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shellshocklove · 2 days

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does anyone know where the love of god goes? | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU

summary: crossing the country alone as he searches for his brother, joel stumbles on a farm. winter is closing in, and against his better judgement he's convinced to stay. as the frost covers the land like a blanket, a warmth ignites in his heart for the young woman who's home he finds himself in.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), swearing, dead animals, joel being a sad man, masturbation, no use of y/n

a/n: i soft launched this ao3 last month and it flopped lol so i'm gonna keep my expectations low for this series. anyways this has been a story i've been thinking about since probably october. this is the first part of what i'm hoping will be 3 parts. happy reading i guess

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The leaves rustled against Joel’s boots with every step he took. The sun had turned traitor cold, and he couldn’t feel its kiss against his cheek no more. The trees shivered above him in the wind – the only sound for miles except his heavy steps.

Did he still exist, with no one around? Joel had never minded being alone; after the breakout he’d found that he sometimes preferred it. People could be… well, when you’ve seen the worst of humanity, maybe it’s best to leave it behind.

And wasn’t he the worst of humanity? The things he’d done. The people he’d killed, and killed for. The people he’d lost.

But he had to keep going. For Tess. He promised.

Every night as he stared into the flames his thoughts would drift to her – the memories flickering in the fire. They should’ve never gone through that museum – it was supposed to have been empty – they should’ve never left Boston in the first place. Now Tess is gone because of him, him and his stupid plan to find his brother.

And for what? How is he ever gonna find Tommy?

Joel didn’t even know where he was. Nebraska? South-Dakota? Maybe he’d made it to Wyoming and just didn’t know it? Abe had told him ‘Cody Tower’, but Joel hadn’t seen anything other than mother nature for weeks.

Everything had started to look the same. Trees and more trees, a mountain in the distance, a grey and heavy sky above him. He’d been walking for forever. Slowly he moved west– or at least he thought he was. On the days where the sun hung high in the sky and wasn’t shielded behind a cloudy partition, he liked to watch it as it dipped below the earth. As the days turned shorter and shorter, the display of color had started to get more vivid. Joel would watch the light blue turn red and bloody, fiery tongues of flames licking over the horizon while the sharp edges of the mountains, and the triangular shapes of the trees faded into an intense black– like the shape of the mountain and the trees had been cut out with scissors. There wasn’t much to stay alive for anymore– but Joel lived for those few moments where nature painted with fire. Humanity might’ve gone to shit, but the cyclical regularity of mother nature gave Joel a small sense of peace.

But he missed the kiss of the sun against his cheek now. He’d moved into a large forest a few days ago. Tall trees hovered over him like giants and cast shadows down at him. It was colder here than out in the open country, but at least he’d been somewhat shaded from the rain pouring from the grey cover above his head the last few days.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The sound stopped Joel in his tracks. Muscle memory worked on its own, gripping the shotgun slung over his shoulder. He listened for the sound again, to the steady rhythm echoing through the forest.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

With slow calculated steps Joel walked in the direction of the sound with the shotgun held tightly to his chest, his finger hovered over the trigger. The chopping sound got louder as he closed in on a man. He couldn’t tell his age with the man’s back turned – but he was strong – Joel could tell from how hard the man’s axe hit the tree trunk.

Taking another silent step, Joel got in position, “How ‘bout you slowly turn around and place that axe on the ground.”

Joel’s voice was hoarse after no use, but still cold and calculated as he spoke his order. He could see he’d startled the man, probably thinking he was alone, just like Joel had thought mere minutes ago.

The man obeyed, turning around slowly. He was older than Joel, maybe mid-seventies, maybe older if the wrinkles and creases around his eyes and nose were to be believed. His hair was white as snow matching his unkempt beard. Joel caught his eye. Strong and steady, no trace of fear one would think a man would feel while having a gun pointed at them.

Joel’s grip around the gun tightened. He wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger if that’s where this was headed. The man watched him calmly before he bent his knees, throwing the axe haphazardly on the ground.

“Kick it over here,” Joel commanded again, and the man obeyed, kicking the axe clumsily towards Joel.

Slowly Joel crept closer, gun still pointed at the man. He locked the heel of his shoe against the shaft, dragging the axe behind him and out of the way.

“Hands where I can see ‘em.”

“Are you going to kill me, son?”

The man’s question puzzled Joel. He said it so calmly, like how you’d ask someone to pass the salt.

“That depends on you.” Joel’s answer pulled at the old man’s lips, a small huff of a laugh escaping them.

“Well, you’re the one with the gun. I think it depends on you.”

Joel tightened his grip on the shotgun again – he didn’t know why –to frighten the man? He didn’t seem very frightened.

“Are you alone?” Joel asked.

“Not anymore,” the man answered.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Joel gritted through his teeth, “who you travelin’ with?”

“No one,” the man’s eyes never left Joel, “I live at a farm about a mile away.”

“Take me to it.”

The man walked with a limp Joel noticed. It was barely there, you wouldn’t see it if you didn’t pay attention, but it was there. The man acted tough enough, but his body revealed his weaknesses. It would be easy to kill him, Joel thought, if it came to that.

He followed the man through the trees with his gun pointed at his back. When they reached the end of the forest a clearing revealed itself. They followed a path through a field of, tall but wilted, brown grass until they reached an overgrown gravel road with a fence running along it. Looking out in the distance, Joel could see small spots of white and black wool. The gravel moaned under their feet as they closed in on a small farm. A two-story house sat in the middle of the barnyard where it was surrounded by a barn who’d seen better days, a silo, and a smaller farmhouse – a stable – Joel noticed as they walked closer.

The man trudged up the front stairs of the main farmhouse, a hand on the handrail keeping him steady.

“Put that gun away would you, son? I don’t want you frightening my wife.” The man broke the silence between them, speaking for the first time since they left the woods.

Joel’s grip on his shotgun didn’t loosen. How could he be sure that this man’s ‘wife’ wasn’t some gang of raiders hiding behind the front door? A question he asked the man through gritted teeth when he turned around to look at Joel.

“There’s nothing of the sort around here,” the man said, “we don’t even see any infected.”

When Joel didn’t say anything, and didn’t lower the gun, the man spoke again, “Who are you?”

“Just someone passin’ through,” Joel answered, making the man chuckle.

“You’re something else, passer-througher,” the old man smiled before he turned around again and stepped inside, leaving Joel on the porch alone.

Abandoned outside he lowered his gun slightly. Inside he could hear muffled voices, a deeper one, definitely the old man, and a brighter one, a woman’s voice. He listened, trying to make out their words with no prevail. The man seemed to have spoken the truth up until now. He most definitely lived on this farm – a seemingly normal farm. This man was just someone making an honest living – even after the apocalypse.

Lowering the gun completely, Joel put the safety on before he slung it over his shoulder. Taking a hollowed step towards the front door, movement in the window to the right of him caught his eye. It was there and then it was gone – just a ruffle of blonde curtains. Then, the door opened revealing an elderly woman.

The man’s wife.

“Welcome, traveler,” she greeted, stepping aside to let Joel in.

He passed through the doorway with a “Thank you, ma’am,” never forgetting his manners even after pointing a gun at her husband.

Inside it looked like a picture taken straight out of a Homes & Gardens magazine. The house was cozy, but it was small. He’d been welcomed into what probably used to be a parlor, but now served its purpose as their living room. It was hard to get a read on the house. Not like those open-floor plan houses he’d built too many of back before the outbreak – this was old, maybe hundreds of years old. The floorboard creaked under his shoes as he walked deeper into the living room, the rest of the house locked away like a secret behind three closed doors. The man was seated in a lounge chair by the fireplace, watching Joel with an expression Joel found it hard to decipher.

“Would you like some tea?” the woman asked, “It’s peppermint from our garden.”

Joel turned his head to the woman. She must be around the same age as the old man, Joel thought. He cleared his throat before he answered with a nod, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pointed to the sofa, urging him to sit down with a smile before she disappeared through one of the doors to what Joel thought must be the kitchen. He felt the old man watching him as he slid his backpack off his shoulders, placing it on the creaky wooden floor behind the sofa. Joel hesitated for just a second when placing the shotgun up against the back, but decided he wasn’t in any imminent danger.

Joel almost groaned as he sat down. He’d been walking for so long, slept on the hard ground for months, he’d almost forgotten what a comfortable chair was. It almost felt surreal, being invited in for tea, like the outbreak had never happened. Here, it was like the time had stood still.

“So,” the man started, “where are you heading to if you’re just ‘passin’ through’?”

Joel cleared his throat again, “I’m lookin’ for my brother,” he answered truthfully, “last I heard he was somewhere in Wyoming.”

“If you’re going to Wyoming, then what you’re doing all the way up here?” The man queried with a chuckle.

Annoyed, Joel grinded his teeth, “Not many signs in the fuckin’ woods are there?” He huffed.

“I guess not,” the man shrugged, “but you’ve made a heck of a detour… where did you come from? Texas? You sound it.”

“Boston.”

“Boston?” the man didn’t hide his surprise, breathing out chuckles in disbelief, “I’ll give it to you, that’s one long trip.”

Joel only huffed in agreement, turning his head from the man to the window overlooking the barnyard.

“Well,” the man broke the growing silence between the two men, “you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner and for the night– you look like you could need a hot meal and a warm bed.”

Joel’s instinct was to say no, but before he could the front door opened, revealing a young woman. You.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you laid your eyes on Joel, “Oh!”.

The door slammed behind you. Under your arm you were carrying a metal bucket filled with apples. You were beautiful, young, but still beautiful – Joel couldn’t deny it.

“This is…” The man paused.

“Joel.” He cleared his throat, introducing himself, “Joel Miller.”

“Mr. Miller is just passing through– he’s looking for his brother,” the old man explained to you.

You nodded at the information, sat the bucket down before you reached out a hand for Joel to take, introducing yourself. Your hand in his was warm and soft while his own dwarfed yours, rough and calloused. He couldn’t help but think about what his hands had done, the people they’d killed. He shouldn’t be tainting yours, painting them red. Joel quickly drew his hand back, balling it into a fist at his side.

Joel looked over at the old man, “Your daughter?” he asked with a tilt of his head in your direction.

“Oh, no,” the man answered with a playful smile, “You’re not the first person ‘passin’ through’ who’s shown up on our doorstep.”

The door to the kitchen opened to reveal the old woman with a teapot in her hand, and a stacked tower of teacups in the other.

“Let me help you Alma,” you said, taking the teacups from the old woman’s hand before placing them on the table; one in front of Joel, a second in front of the old man, “Here you go Arthur,” and a third next to Joel.

“Did you also want some tea, sweetie?” Alma asked you as she placed the steaming teapot on the table.

“Yes, please, but I can grab a cup myself– sit down,” you smiled and padded the old woman’s shoulder, then you grabbed the bucket of apples and disappeared into the kitchen.

Alma started pouring the tea as a silence fell over the room. A small, “Thank you, ma’am,” left Joel’s lips as she moved on to pouring tea for her husband.

“So,” the man started before taking a sip of his tea, “what do you say Mr. Miller? You staying for the night?”

That night as he laid in a real bed for the first time in months, Joel had trouble falling asleep. He wasn’t used to this. Hadn’t been used to it for a while. His belly full, soft fabric against his skin, feeling warm, and clean. The old couple had offered him one of the two bedrooms on the first floor, the two mystery doors in the living room now revealed. Laying in his new bed he tried not to think about who he was sharing a wall with.

You.

You were something else, helpful and kind. Everything Joel hadn’t seen since the outbreak. At the dinner table you’d asked him questions and listened intently – even when his answers were short and brisk. There was a glimmer in your eye, and it touched something inside him he hadn’t felt in a long time. But you were young, mid to late twenties he reckoned, maybe a little older– anyways, he shouldn’t be harboring anything for you, it wouldn’t be right. Especially now, now that he’d agreed to stay.

After the dinner plates had been cleared, Arthur had folded a big map out on the table. “Here are we now,” he’d pointed a finger at the map. Montana. Southern Montana to be precise. “I’ll give it to you Mr. Miller, if you’ve made it this far on your own you probably won’t have any trouble making your way down south to Wyoming.”

“But?” Joel watched the grimace pulling at the old man’s face.

“But,” Arthur had said, “Winter is just around the corner and… well, going back out there in the wilderness alone during our winters is a dead trap, I’ll tell you that much.”

Joel had let the man go on about the far below freezing temperatures, the heavy snow, and the tough wind, but Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew the winters up here were harsh. It wasn’t even winter yet, but every day he’d felt the temperature drop lower and lower, and the last few of nights he’d even had to get a fire going, against his better judgement.

So– the deal was: Joel would stay over the winter. Just for the winter, he’d been adamant on not staying longer. He’d get a place to stay, a warm bed to sleep in, and food in his belly on one condition – he’d help out on the farm.

The fire crackled loudly, red tongues licking up the chimney as Joel fed it another log. He watched as the fire caught in the new log, devouring it quickly and with no mercy. It was really starting to heat up now. A small flicker of pride sparked in Joel chest. He’d always been good at building a fire. It was one of those things, Joel had come to learn, where you needed to pay attention, to have patience.

When he was younger, he’d take Tommy out camping sometimes, just the two of them. Mostly they’d go during the summer; Tommy wasn’t a fan of sleeping outside in the cold, though cold had meant something different back then in Texas. But Joel remembered one time he’d managed to convince him to go with him. It was right after he’d gotten his driver’s license, and his parents had given him a beat-up truck for his birthday – for sharing – they’d told him, “You need to give your little brother a ride when he needs it!” Joel wasn’t exactly thrilled about his future as Tommy’s private driver, but it didn’t mean he didn’t love his brother.

A few weeks into October he’d managed to convince Tommy to go camping. They’d packed the truck with their tents, sleeping bags, and fishing equipment, before they’d gotten on the road, driving to a lake where they knew there were fish to catch. Finding a place to camp was always difficult with Tommy. They’d parked Joel’s truck at the edge of the forest before they’d followed a hiking trail. Joel was convinced they’d walked at least three quarters of the way around the lake before they found a spot good enough for Tommy.

It had to be flat, but also shielded. There couldn’t be too many rocks, but there also had to be enough rocks to build a hearth. Tommy wanted it to be private, but he also wanted it to be open enough that he could see if someone would stumble upon their camp. Joel knew not to argue with him when he got like that, opting instead for a defeated, “Whatever.”

Setting up camp went relatively easy. They’d worked together building the tents, collecting rocks for their fireplace, and even managed to find a fallen tree to use as a bench. When the night slowly started to cover them in darkness, Tommy decided to get the fire going. Joel watched him work the logs into a pile as he started on filleting the fish they’d just caught.

“You’re doin’ it wrong,” he’d told his brother, “You’re suffocatin’ it.” He’d washed his hands in the lake, ridding himself of the slimy smell of fish, before crouching down next to Tommy.

The fire was one big bowl of smoke, and Joel caught himself wondering what messages Tommy must’ve been sending to the heavens. He removed some of the heavier logs, and the fire could breathe.

“See?” he’d looked at Tommy, “It just needed air.” Joel had shifted the smaller pieces of wood around and not long after the fire was alive.

That Joel, that green boy who liked to take his little brother camping, that Joel didn’t know how much those skills would come in handy in a few years when the world would get turned upside down.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?”

Your question pulled Joel from his memories. He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze from where you were huddled up in the corner of the couch. You looked cozy, but he knew you weren’t. The house was cold this morning, outside a thin layer of frost had stuck to the grass during the night. It was early too, the sun not having climbed high enough yet to peek over the mountains. You looked tired where you sat, clad in a wool sweater with a blanket pulled over your knees. Under the blanket Joel remembered you were still wearing your pajama pants, and in your hand you held a steaming cup of tea, peppermint, Joel knew, his own cup abandoned on the coffee table.

“What?” Joel answered, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?” you repeated softly, like the way people tended to speak in the mornings, like they were afraid they’d wake up the world.

His calves were starting to burn from the strain of being crouched in front of the fireplace for a moment too long, and he tried his best to hide his groan, biting his teeth together as he stood to his feet, knees cracking loudly.

“Um, no,” he said, confused about your question.

“I’ll knit you a pair then,” you smiled before putting your cup down next to his.

“That’s… that ain’t necessary,” Joel hurried, but you waved him off.

“Sure it is,” you smiled again, much to Joel’s annoyance. He didn’t deserve your kindness, but you gave it away like it cost nothing. “If you’re gonna be helping Arthur out in the woods this winter, you need some mittens.”

Joel watched as you got up from your home on the couch and vanished into your bedroom. A moment later you appeared in the doorway with a basket under your arm.

“Also…” you gave him another smile as you sat back down again, placing the basket in your lap. It was close to overflowing with yarn, balls of black and white in varying sizes peeking over the top, the homespun ends fraying against the rough edges of the basket. “I’ll have something to do during the evenings,” you winked before you rummaged through the basket and fished out a measuring tape.

Joel shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you. Mittens? Joel can’t remember if he’s ever owned a pair of mittens. Gloves, sure, but mittens?

You patted the cushion next to you, urging him to sit down, kind smile hanging off your lips like always. Sitting down, he folded his hands in his lap, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting. It wasn’t like he hadn’t sat next to you before; he’d been here a few weeks now, and he was starting to know you, but for some reason, this felt different. Maybe it was the early morning, the quiet house, or the fact that Alma and Arthur were still sleeping upstairs, but it felt like it was just the two of you, alone, and Joel didn’t know how to feel about it.

You shifted towards him, the blanket slipping slightly off the couch with your movement, in your hands you held the measuring tape while you looked at him expectantly.

When Joel didn’t move, a smile quirked at the corner of your mouth before you grabbed one of his hands resting in his lap. You uncurled his fingers slowly, one by one, making Joel hold his breath.

“I need to see how big I need to make them,” you whispered, holding his hand very gently.

Joel’s heart hammered in his chest. Your hand was warm and soft, like the last time he’d touched you as you’d introduced yourself to him. Joel didn’t dare look at your face, or he’d say something stupid, so he didn’t. He looked at your joined hands, his brain trying to remember the last time someone had held his hand as gently as you did, your thumb running over the back of it soothingly.

He can’t remember. His hands are always empty.

With your other hand, a finger curled around the measuring tape, you slipped it around his wrist before leaning closer to look at the numbers.

“Is this too tight you think, or do you want them to be looser?” You asked through your lashes, eyes sparkling in the low morning light.

Joel cleared his throat, “No, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” you nodded, slipping the measuring tape from his wrist to write down the measurement. He hadn’t noticed your notebook until now. It was a little rough around the edges from use, the spined cracked and the paper a little yellow. Placing the pen in the seam, you grabbed the measuring tape again.

Loosening your grip on his hand you placed it over the thick of your thigh. Joel drew a quick breath, his heartbeat hammering in his ears, under his hand he could feel the warmth of you through the soft flannel.

You continued taking your measurements. You didn’t say anything, so neither did Joel, but you looked up at him through your lashes sometimes, and Joel thought that maybe the most useful thing one can do with empty hands, is hold on.

The creak of the stair made Joel jump, and like he’d been burned his hand retracted on reflex, as Arthur’s heavy steps got closer.

“Morning,” Arthur greeted as he ducked his head through the door to the living room.

“Mornin’,” Joel mumbled, head lowered as he gathered his hands in his lap.

“Good morning!” you smiled, always with that kind smile, “Did you sleep well, Arthur?” you got up from your seat before grabbing your teacup to follow Arthur into the kitchen, leaving the yarn and Joel.

Taking a deep breath, Joel pinched the top of his nose. He needed to get it together. You were just being your regular kind self; your soft touch was nothing more than that. Standing to his feet, Joel grabbed his own cup, trudging into the kitchen.

In the kitchen Arthur sat in his usual spot at the dining table, the chair closest to the window. “I need to get on with this barn soon,” Joel heard him say as he sat down opposite him. “It’s gonna fall apart come spring if we get as much snow as we did last year.”

Joel tried his best not to look at you as he heard you hum. You were stood at the kitchen counter slicing the bread Alma had baked yesterday, readying breakfast. Instead, Joel opted to gaze down into his teacup, where the peppermint leaves had all gathered at the bottom.

“Um,” Joel cleared his throat, “what needs fixin’?”

“What doesn’t need fixing in that barn?” Arthur sighed, peeling his eyes from out the window to Joel.

“I can uh,” Joel eyes shifted quickly to you before he cleared his throat again, “I can take a look at it, if ya want?”

Arthur’s eyebrows met in a furrow as he looked at Joel.

“I used to be a contractor,” Joel explained with a shrug, before taking a last cold sip of his tea.

“So, you know a thing or two about buildings I reckon?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, well I used to,” Joel leaned back in his chair.

“Well, that would be very helpful Joel– I’d appreciated it!” Arthur smiled before leaning back in his chair making room for you as you started setting the table. Joel gave him a short nod in return, trying to fight the urge to look at you as you placed the food on the table.

Arthur had downplayed the state of the barn – it was a mess – it was dangerous, and had Joel told him as much. But it was nothing Joel couldn’t fix, as long as he had the right supplies, fortunately for him the forest would provide them with what they needed.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The axe dug a deep wound into the bark with every swing. Joel’s breath was heavy, and his arms ached, but it was a welcomed form of tiredness. A month into it, he was starting to get used to the work. There was something so satisfying about manual labor, of using his hands, of making something – he’d almost forgotten.

The routine of the work felt good. Waking up at dawn, then breakfast, he could use his body for something useful for the first time in twenty years and end the day with a warm meal for supper. This new temporary life was simple, but it was strangely normal.

Originally, Joel was only helping Arthur out in the woods for firewood through the winter– but now with the barn, they’d changed course. The last few days they’d started to become more selective with the trees; looking for the tallest and straightest ones that would fall safely.

A frozen sky hovered over the men as they worked. This morning when Joel had woken up, the thinnest layer of snow had fallen like powdered sugar during the night, turning the world bright with winter. Earlier in the week the frost had perched on the farm, and Joel had known winter was closing in. He’d lost count of the days and months passing while on his own, but Arthur had told him it was late October.

“It will start snowing properly soon,” Arthur said, breaking the silence between them.

Joel hummed before taking a bite of his packed lunch. They’d worked all morning – Joel felling the trees and Arthur cleaning them up and removing the branches. Now they were sat on a fresh tree stump each, their first break of the day.

“I have an old logging sled in the barn– used to be my father’s,” Arthur explained, “I think we should leave the trees here until the snow gets deep enough for the sled and have the horses pull them back to the farm.”

“Fine by me,” Joel took another bite of his lunch.

“The logs will have to dry out over the winter,” Arthur mused, “Then come spring we can start the repairs on the barn.”

Spring. If everything goes according to plan, Joel won’t be here come spring. He needed to find Tommy– he couldn’t, and he wasn’t gonna stay on the farm for any longer than necessary. He’d already decided– when the snow finally started to melt, Joel was gone.

Joel hummed, a non-committed answer. It was easier that way, to not get Arthur’s hopes up. He liked Arthur, he was a good man, a hard worker even in his old age, and silent when Joel wanted him to be. Joel liked Alma too, but her age shined through more easily than Arthur’s. Joel couldn’t help but notice her repeating herself more often and forgetting where she put things. It made life harder for you, Joel could see it. Your responsibilities were already a lot to handle as you took care of the animals mostly by yourself, but as Joel had discovered Alma starting to struggle with the housework, he’d noticed you starting to help her more often. In Joel’s mind it was unfair to you, but it wasn’t like he could blame Alma for growing older, in this world it was a feat.

Still, he’d try his best to help you when he could, like doing the dishes after dinner as you dried them off and put them away. The first few times you were both quiet, it was strangely intimate, only the sound of splashing water filling the space between you. One night he'd gotten brave, breaking the comfortable silence and asked you ‘What you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?’ You’d looked at him with big eyes, searching his own for something, but before he could figure out what it was, you’d answered him with a shrug. It was unlike you, unlike you to be this silent, but Joel didn’t push. The next night the silence persisted, and he’d thought adding ‘Sweetheart’ had been too much, but then the next night you’d sighed quietly and whispered, “I’m worried about Alma.”

Looking down at the mittens in his lap, the guilt gnawed at him. The look of worry in your eyes, Arthur’s hopeful wishes, and Alma’s aging. Joel couldn’t have anything tying him to this place. He was supposed to find his brother.

Suddenly, a black and orange butterfly landed on Joel’s knee. Joel stopped breathing, body going rigid as he tried not to move. How the hell was this butterfly still alive? It sat quiet on his knee, wings slowly retracting and widening behind it. Memories pushed its way to the forefront of Joel’s mind then.

Sarah. Another year had gone by, and the thought made his chest tighten.

“That’s quite a sight at this time of year,” he heard Arthur say, “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Y-yeah,” Joel stammered out an answer, afraid his voice would scare it away.

The longer Joel watched the butterfly he found his guilt started to slowly melt away. It’s okay, dad. It was like the rustling of the trees carried her voice with them. You’re on the right path.

“I can do that f’you want, sweetheart.”

Joel’s boots creaked under him as he walked across the barnyard. You looked up at the sound of his voice, smile blossoming across your face as you tightened your grip on the shovel.

“It’s alright,” you said with a grunt as you picked up more snow, adding it to the growing pile, “Good for me to get some physical work in.”

Joel nodded as you straightened up, hand going to your hip while the other leaned on the shovel, your heavy breath curled in small plumes out of your mouth. You took him in for a second, eyes flickering over his form before they fell on the rabbits hanging over Joel’s shoulder.

“Where’d you get those?” you asked, and Joel shrugged.

“Shot ‘em,” he said simply, “they walked right by me as I was choppin’– seemed too good to pass up.”

“Not for the rabbits,” you muttered, and Joel had to fight the urge to smile.

“You a vegetarian or somethin’?” he asked with a single raised eyebrow, and you waved him off.

“No,” you said pointedly, but a teasing lilt lingered, “Just stating a fact... we don’t eat a lot of rabbit around here, is all.”

Joel nodded slightly; it made sense. He knew there was a gun in the house, but it was a revolver– too small to do any real hunting, and Joel didn’t even know if there were bullets for it. So, Joel didn't ask further. Lucky for him, you did.

“So, you just shot those?” you asked, a frown pulling at your eyebrows, “Aren’t they fast?”

Joel made a nonchalant sort of face. “Ain’t that hard when you can aim straight.”

“Well, how do you aim straight?”

“You learn to shoot.”

You let out a small laugh, one that pulled at Joel’s lips. “And how did you go about learning that?”

Joel felt his smile drop, the leather strap of his shotgun weighing heavy on his shoulder, “Practice.”

You didn’t seem to notice the change in his demeanor as you dug the shovel into the snow, so it stood by itself like a watchman. “Can you teach me?” you asked, the snow creaking under your shoes as you took a few steps closer.

His lips pulled at the corner, “No.”

Your eyes widened with disappointment, eyebrows pulling together in a frown as you asked, “Why?”

“Nothin’ good ever comes from it,” Joel shrugged.

“Okay,” you huffed a laugh, “that’s sinister.” Then you narrowed your eyes at him, gearing up for an argument no doubt with the way you rested your hand on your hip. “What if I also wanted to go hunting?” you posed, and Joel shook his head.

“That ain’t happenin’, sweetheart.”

“Okay, but now you’ve brought us rabbits– and what if I end up really liking rabbit?” you bit down on your bottom lip, unconsciously showing off you own rabbit teeth.

Cute.

“Then I’ll shoot as many rabbits as you want,” Joel countered with a teasing smile before tightening his hold on the rope slung over his other shoulder (the one he’d tied the rabbits to), and walked towards the kitchen door at the back of the farmhouse.

He heard you huff in defeat behind him, your creaky steps following him up the stairs and inside. Walking into the kitchen Joel placed the rabbits on the table before he pulled at his mittens, stripped off his jacket, and hung it neatly over the back of one of the dining chairs. Grabbing one of the rabbits he brought it to the kitchen counter to start dressing it, fighting the urge to turn his head as he heard you enter the room.

“Come on, Joel,” you whined, “Why won’t you teach me?”

“Told you already,” Joel replied, “Nothin’ good comes from learnin’ to shoot things.”

Shifting the rabbit around on the counter he reached for the butcher knife in the knife block.

“You know, that’s a really stupid way of saying you don’t want to spend the time,” you told him, your voice closer now as you leaned against the kitchen counter.

“When exactly did ya hear me sayin’ I don't wanna spend time with you?” Joel asked, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

“You won’t teach me to shoot,” you teased, and Joel could hear the smile in your voice.

Joel huffed out a laugh, “Damn right I won’t.”

He heard you let out a whiney huff, before you turned on your heel, muttering out a curse under your breath when you accidently bumped your hip into the counter and Joel couldn’t help the smile teasing at his lips. You sat down with an overdramatic sigh, and Joel still didn’t look at you – he knew he’d cave eventually if he did, say yes against his better judgement – so he kept his eyes on the knife in his hand.

“How’s Arthur?” Joel asked as he worked.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “The same I think– Alma was up there looking after him last time I checked.”

This time Joel allowed himself to look at you. You sat sideways on the wooden chair, legs crossed and tucked under your chair with your head hanging, eyes glued to your lap. Gone were the teasing, and gone were the smiles.

“He’ll be fine,” Joel said, his eyes back on the rabbit, “it’s just a cold.”

“Yeah… but he’s been getting sick a lot more often,” your voice was low, like you didn’t want them to hear you upstairs, “you can’t help but think the worst you know?”

Joel put the knife down and moved over to the sink. He quickly washed his hands before grabbing a towel to dry off, twisting it in his hands as he approached you. Placing the towel on the counter, he hesitated for a moment as he watched you, watched the way you twisted your hands in your lap with no sense of purpose or intent. It was like the worry dripped down your body. Pushing off the counter Joel knelt in front of you, a grunt escaped him as his knees clicked loudly, his balance slightly off on his haunches.

“Shit,” Joel huffed out a laugh, and you followed. Your palms landed on his knees to keep him steady, warmth spreading like jolting electricity.

“Sweetheart, I’ll tell you what–” he stopped himself when you looked at him through your lashes, trying to ignore the way your eyes focused on his mouth as he spoke. “’s just a cold, he’ll be up ‘n walkin’ tomorrow– man’s got gumption.”

“Yeah?” your eyes flickered upwards, meeting his.

Suddenly, under your gaze Joel felt brave. His hand moved on its own accord, cupping your cheek in his hand. He let his thumb ghost over your skin, still cold under his fingertips from being outside, but warming under his touch.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, you only watched him with glimmering eyes, like you were under a spell. Maybe he was too.

“Still,” you sighed, “Would be better if I could pick up more of the slack around here... Arthur does a lot, and I wish I could do more to support them.”

“Like what? You take care of the animals all by yourself– that’s more than enough.”

“Well, I could learn to shoot rabbits,” you told him, before the corners of your mouth pulled into a pleased smirk as he rolled his eyes at you.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, making a move to stand when you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“I’m kidding, Joel,” you smiled, before a more serious look washed over your features. “I mean it’s… It’s gonna be empty here without you,” you said, “I’m starting to really like having you here, Joel.”

Joel turned his hand to rest the back of it on your thigh, your hand fitting in his.

“I uh,” his eyes fixated on your joined hands, then he cleared his throat, “I’ll stay as long as you need me to. I’m not leavin’ you alone, sweetheart.”

Your eyes lit up at his words, smile growing large across your face. Joel’s heart drummed in his chest as your eyes flickered down to his mouth again.

“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, and then you did something Joel thought was gonna make his heart stop beating. You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It bloomed against his skin, and made wings flutter against the walls of his stomach.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller,” you whispered before you pulled away, looking at him with kindness in your eyes.

If only you knew, Joel thought, if only you knew the blood on his hands.

He couldn’t look at you when you looked at him like that. Like you believed your own words. So, he cleared his throat awkwardly and stood to his feet, his knees clicking as your hand slipped from his movement. He walked back to the counter, fingers grabbing the towel with no other purpose than to calm himself down.

After placing the towel back where it usually hung, he grabbed the knife again, turning his attention back to the rabbit, allowing himself to steal a few glances at you where you sat looking out the kitchen window.

“Hey, uh,” Joel broke the growing silence after a few minutes, “how ‘bout rabbit stew for lunch?”

Your head snapped to look at him as he spoke, a smile ghosting over your lips as you said, “I’ll go get some vegetables from the cellar.”

Joel wouldn’t necessarily call himself a good cook – he wouldn’t even call himself a cook in the first place. Back before the outbreak he’d been forced to learn the basics as a fresh single dad, but he’d never been able to provide Sarah with gourmet meals very often, and when Sarah had gotten older, he’d been embarrassed to say that her food was always better than his – eggshells and all. One summer he’d bought himself a nice grill– one of those way too expensive gas grills with too many fancy accessories for Joel to regularly use. He’d had a job that ended up paying well, some rich guy’s mansion that needed renovating, and decided to treat himself for once. That summer all their meals had come from that grill, well mostly, and afterwards Joel looked at himself as a pretty good griller, if nothing else.

You on the other hand, you knew what you were doing, it was clear in the effortlessly way you moved beside him as you got the vegetables ready for the stew. Joel seared the meat to the best of his abilities, making sure it was properly browned on both sides before setting it aside. After that, it was clear that you were in charge, and Joel let you boss him around and tell him what to do. It made his heart warm around the edges, watching how you put so much love and care into everything you did.

An hour later you finally sat down to eat; two hearty bowls of stew each as light snowflakes covered the world outside. You’d let the pot simmer on low over the heat as you’d wanted to bring up a bowl for Arthur and Alma later.

“So…” you started, watching as Joel dug into his bowl, “How’s the stew?”

“’s good!” Joel nodded through a mouthful, and he wasn’t lying. It was good, really good in fact.

“Yeah?” you bubbled through a smile, before you dug into your own bowl to see if he’d spoken the truth. He watched as you face brightened as you chewed, nodding your head to confirm his verdict.

“I think I really like rabbit, Joel,” you said through a teasing smile, and Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle from spilling.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, teasing smile not going anywhere, “So… when are you teaching me to shoot?”

“Shut up.”

The living room was quiet, safe for the cracking of the fire. It had almost died out when Joel had stepped out of his room. He’d been twisting and turning again, counting sheep, but nothing had been able to pull him under the blanket of sleep. He was plumb tired too, that was the worst part. The embers hummed with a low light, and with a small stick Joel had spread them out before placing a small piece of wood on top. No less than a minute later the fire fed on the log.

Taking a seat and leaning back in the lounge chair, Joel looked out the window with tired eyes. The moon looked down on him, big and bright, it shone its white light over the barnyard like a spotlight. His thoughts were clouded over as he gazed up. A billion little lights turning into bright spheres in the sky.

On nights like this, Joel felt like he was barely breathing at all.

His thoughts didn’t stray for long before they found you again. Lately, you were always on his mind. He thought about how you’d looked mere hours ago, when he’d sat in this same exact chair, only this time it was facing towards the sofa and not the window.

You’d been sat curled up in the corner, blanket thrown over your lap with a book in hand. You’d told him you’d read all the books in the house already, but it didn’t stop you from coming back to your favorites. Joel had been reading his own book, an old western he’d found in the bookshelf in the upstairs hallway a few days ago. It was entertaining, but not enough to hold his attention. He found his eyes had a mind of their own, slipping over the top to steal a peek at you as you read, feeling a smile tug at his lips at the barely there furrow of concentration between your eyebrows.

“Joel.”

Joel perked up at the whisper of his name, the memories fading like ripples in still water. He looked around the room –nothing. He sat quietly in his chair for a moment, listening, as his heartbeat quickened in his chest. It had been your voice, hadn’t it? Or was he starting to lose it? His eyes fell to the door of your bedroom. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but he could see it was slightly ajar.

“Joel.”

The voice was louder this time, almost strained, but it was yours. A thousand scenarios flashed before his eyes then at your tone. Was there someone in your room? Were you in danger? Seconds later Joel crossed the room, a mix of fear and protectiveness overcoming him.

Leaning up against your door he listened for the intruder as he readied himself. The soft crinkling of your sheets combined with your strained whimpers was all it took for him to push the door open, fearing the worst.

And…

It was empty, your room, you were alone. Joel immediately felt stupid– the only intruder here was him.

He was about to step out, embarrassed at his actions, when he heard it again, his name falling from your lips. It was all Joel needed to finally take in your body, squirming under your sheets, still asleep. The realization of what he’d just walked in on made Joel’s eyes widen.

Laying on your back, the duvet had slipped down your torso from your movements to reveal the thin t-shirt you wore to bed. Like this he could see your perked nipples through the fabric, as your chest quickly rose and fell, making Joel’s imagination start to run wild.

“Joel.”

In his pajama pants, Joel could feel his cock come alive from the soft whimper that left your lips along with his name. He couldn’t move, like some farm elf had glued his feet to the floor while he wasn’t looking. He watched as you scrunched your face together in pleasure, another whimper falling from your lips, and all the blood in Joel’s body rushed down south.

As if the soundwaves from your voice had broken against him, he took a step backwards, and then another, and another until he crossed the threshold of your door. He tried his best to be quiet, to not wake you and have you catch him in your room in the middle of the night.

The image of you squirming under your sheets, dreaming of him, didn’t leave him as he closed the door to his own room. With a sigh his head fell against the door, a strong hand gliding down his front to hover over his aching cock.

Joel Miller was no saint, but what he was doing– what he was about to do, was bad.

“Shit,” he quietly hissed, running his hand up his clothed cock. He hadn’t touched himself properly in a long time, not since he left Boston.

His cock reacted to his touch, growing harder and harder until he couldn’t take it anymore. He hooked his finger around the hem of his pajama pants, pulling them down to the thick of his thigh, freeing himself. He hissed at the cold air hitting his length, as it bopped with the movement of being freed. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Joel spat, before he wrapped his spit-soaked hand around himself.

His mind found you again as he started stroking himself, slowly at first, pumping himself with a practiced hand, squeezing himself at the base before bringing his hand up to thumb at the tip. Joel couldn’t get the way you sounded out of his mind. Couldn’t forget how you were squirming in your bed, dreaming of him. Couldn’t shake the thought of pulling those moans and whimpers from you with his hands, and his mouth, and with his cock.

“Fuck.”

Joel tried to be quiet, but he couldn’t fight the moan from slipping from his lips. Fuck, he wanted you. He wanted his hands all over you. Closing his eyes his mouth dropped open as he imagined what he was dying to do to you.

How much he’d wanted to help you out of your t-shirt, run his hands over your breasts and tease your nipples. Take his time to pull those moans and whimpers from your soft lips as he teased you with kisses down your body, down the valley of your breasts, your tummy, down to you to your–

Another low moan fell from Joel’s lips. He squeezed himself tighter as he jerked himself off, precum pearling at the tip, and slipping down his length, mixing with his spit.

The sound of the slick rhythm of his hand filled his bedroom as he increased the pace of his strokes. He had to bite down on his lip to strangle a groan when thoughts of getting between your legs, spreading them open and getting his mouth on you filled his head. He fantasized about how you’d taste falling apart on his tongue–Fuck, how you’d sound falling apart around his cock.

His eyes fell shut as he fisted himself faster. Joel could feel his orgasm quickly building, coiling tight in his tummy. With his free hand he cupped his balls, and then he couldn’t help but imagine it was you, a picture of you on your knees before him flashed behind his eyelids, your tongue lapping at his balls while your hand pumped his cock.

“Shit.”

With a strained groan, thick ropes of cum spilled over his knuckles and down his length, coating him in his release. His breath came out ragged, as he continued his strokes, milking himself of the rest of his release.

Fuck.

His cock softened in his hand as he calmed down from his high. With a quiet groan he pushed himself off the door, looking around his room for something to clean himself up with.

The guilt of what he’d done washed over him quickly, settling in his chest like a heavy weight. You were so young, and beautiful, and Joel just an old man. He shouldn’t want you like this, shouldn’t want you this much.

Climbing under the covers, Joel couldn’t shake his thoughts of you, of you dreaming about him in your bed, about your smiles, and your touch. A supercut of you rolling like a tape in his minds eye. A supercut of you bundled up under a blanket on the sofa, knitting him his mittens. Of you, your own knitted hat pulled tightly down over your ears as you stepped out into the snow to check on the animals. Of the way you’d looked at him for the first time, with the bucket of apples under your arm, and the sweet taste of them as you’d offered him one later, after dinner.

Finally, Joel could breathe.

i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal

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multifandomgirl08 · 3 days

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Time to Move? [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fiancée!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: When Max had brought up moving, it was because the lease on his apartment was going to be up at the end of the year. Maybe it was time to find a new place for all of you.

Warning(s): Implied Sexual Content in the first half

Words: 2.6k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

Nico was already in bed for the night after refusing to go to bed without Max reading him a story. He had protested until you offered to read Nico two stories if he let Papa finish his race. Nico perked up and then dragged his feet to bed. He made it through the first story, and by the time you were getting through the second one, he was falling asleep.

You joined Max in the living room after Nico had fallen asleep, where he was sitting on his racing sim talking to someone before he logged off for the night. Max and the guys from Team Redline had been streaming tonight.

“Yeah, I’ll be back on tomorrow.” He said before clicking something on the steering wheel.

“Sure, bye guys.” Max turned the sim off before pulling off his headphones and stepped out of his seat.

Your laptop was open looking at houses. You and Max had been talking about moving from his apartment to a house. You had been looking at houses online for the last few days and you couldn’t find anything in Monaco that looked like it was a good house for Nico to grow up in. You wanted things like a few bedrooms for you and Max to have your own spaces in the house, a pool, and a yard for Nico.

“How’s looking at houses?” He asked taking the empty can of Red Bull before throwing it in the recycling bin in the kitchen.

“It’s like there is nothing for sale. Maybe we should hire someone to find something for us.” You shut your laptop and put it on the coffee table.

“We don’t have to stay in Monaco, we can move further out.”

“We could, maybe moving out a little further would help.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something, there’s no rush.”

He was right there wasn’t, there was just so much going on for all of you right now. You were sitting down with the wedding planner while working, and you had recently just started to figure out how Nico’s karting schedule would end up working with Max’s schedule for the rest of the season. You didn’t even want to think about what was going on at work right now.

“I know.”

When Max had brought up moving, it was because the lease on his apartment was going to be up at the end of the year, so you suggested looking at buying a house instead of renting. You would be able to have your own office, instead of just having your desk set up in the living room, Max could have his racing sim in one of the guest rooms, and Nico would have more room for his toys since he was slowly growing out of his bedroom. Max’s two-bedroom apartment made sense when you had moved in but now there wasn’t as much room for the three of you to grow into. It just made sense for you to find somewhere with more space.

Max had pulled you from the couch guiding you towards the master bedroom to take your mind off of the events of the day. Max leaned down, your lips meeting, feeling his eyelashes flutter closed against your cheekbones.

Your hands went to his back, letting your fingernails slightly dig into the fabric of his shirt. You slid your hands under the hem feeling his warm soft skin under your fingers. He pulled back only to start to pull at the tight fabric of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor hitting your bare feet.

It had taken another month looking at houses before you and Max even bothered talking to a real estate agent. Eventually, on a Sunday, both you and Max woke up early, dropping Nico off at Daniel’s for the day before going to meet the realtor. The Aussie had taken Nico from your arms, almost shooing both you and Max out of his apartment, wanting to spend every moment that he could with his godson.

“Uncle Daniel has it all handled,” He said, taking the bag out of Max’s hands. Nico was already situated on the couch asking Daniel if he had any fun games that they could play.

After that you and Max walked down to the garage to get into his car. He pulled open your door for you before you slid into the seat.

Max had gotten in and then started the car, you were making a small list of all of the things the house would need, “Pool, gym, 4 or 5 bedrooms.”

“And a big garage, I’m going to need a workspace to keep working on Nico’s kart.” Max’s focus was on the road but it seemed like the list for what you wanted was never ending.

You were meeting the realtor just outside of Monaco in a gated community. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about privacy. Max had pulled the car up to the house, and it could only be described as a big, modern, white box.

“I bet the moment we step into the house, we’ll be able to smell that the paint isn’t all the way dry.” You gave a small nod agreeing with Max. The house was new, too new for your liking.

You met the agent inside, he spoke with a thick French accent and told you the basic information of the house. It was on almost a full acre of land, had a pool, 4 bedrooms, a kitchen, a 2-car garage, and it was under 14 million euros. However, as you looked around the house there was no grass for Nico to run around on, and the closets in the house were small with the master bedroom sharing a single small closet.

This wasn’t the house for you and Max.

The next house you and Max drove to wasn’t on the market yet, it would be going up in about a week, and it didn’t even have an estimated price from the seller. It was close to Monaco, but a little higher up in the hills. You were concerned that since it was just outside of the city, it may not be considered as a part of Monaco, but rather in the next part over.

As Max pulled up to the gate, the guard had let you through. It looked like a cream one-story house, and you could see that there was a small water feature that led to the front door. The agent had walked in front of you with the key that had been in the lockbox before opening the door leading to a long entryway. It looked like going left would lead to the living room, and going right would lead to the dining room and the kitchen. But your eyes went front and center, looking out on the big backyard and pool, you felt like asking if all of the outdoor furniture came with the house.

You could feel Max’s hand on your hip, leading you down the hall to the kitchen. You could tell from the kitchen that it was a little dated but not too bad. It had a free-standing coffee maker instead of one that was built in, and an induction top stove, instead of a gas top like at the apartment. If you and Max got the house it was something that would need to be re-done before you moved in.

You and Max walked around the house for a while longer, the house turned out to be two stories, not one. It had two bedrooms upstairs both with en-suite bathrooms. When you had taken the stairs from the kitchen, it led down a long hallway that was photoless aside from the doorways that led to other rooms.

Max had stopped in front of a set of double doors, before pushing one open to reveal what could only be the master bedroom. There were doors that seemed to lead outside, the bed was up against the wall on the opposite side of the room, and it seemed like two doorways were hugging each side behind the bed. You and Max walked through one each, you ended up in a closet with white built-in shelves and a center island before seeing what was another doorway. You walked through it, and ended up meeting Max in the middle of the bathroom, which was settled between the two large closets; his and hers.

You gave the bathroom a quick look over, a big walk in shower with a bench, freestanding tub, makeup counter, and two sinks. From there you walked the rest of the second floor, there were another three bedrooms, a gym, and a wine cellar tucked away in the corner. The house had more than enough room for you, Max, Nico, and the cats.

From there you made your way back upstairs, finally walking outside to see the pool. The upstairs terrace had stairs leading down to the pool.

Max took your hand and led you down the stairs before you both stopped in front of the pool to see the birdseye view of Monaco and the Mediterranean sea from the backyard, even this far up in the mountains the sea still gave off a bright blue shine almost as if it was mirroring the sky.

You could hear Max’s shoes against the grass as he moved to lie down in one of the lounge chairs, his head already laid back closing his eyes. You pulled your heels off, moving to sit next to him on the lounge before he pulled you flush against his chest to lay down next to him.

“You like it?” He muttered into your hair.

“Yes.” You answered simply.

“I’ll ask him when it’s going to be put on the market.” Max didn’t even move from his spot, he just wrapped his arm around your waist, forcing your legs apart so that you were straddling one of his thighs.

“We don’t even know how much it is,” You started. “And the kitchen needs to be re-done.”

Max ran his hands over your arms, silently telling you to calm down, “We’ll figure it out. Besides, the last house is all the way on the other side of Monaco.”

You laid your head against Max’s chest, nuzzling your nose into his white t-shirt.

“Now you're just being lazy.” Max let out a loud laugh at your words.

“You wore me out with your late night activities.” His hand moved down to grip the inside of your thigh.

“You weren’t complaining then.” You gave him a small pout. Max gave you a crooked smile and then reached for your hand, kissing the band of your engagement ring.

You and Max laid there for a few more moments before making your way back up the stairs and into the living room to see the agent on the phone.

He looked up at the sound of your heels clicking on the white stone outside of the pocket doors.

“So, what do you think?” He asked.

“It’s nice,” Max started.

“That’s good. A little more what you were expecting… And it’s still within the Monaco postal code, so you don’t have to worry about not being considered a resident while you’re living here, even though you're technically in Saint-Jean Cap Ferret.” As the agent talked, you knew that it meant that the price would go down a bit since you weren’t actually in Monaco still.

“What’s the price?” The agent widened his eyes. He wasn’t expecting Max to just outright ask about the price.

“Well… Umm… I think the owner was looking at 17.5 million euros.”

“17.5,” You stated, the agent nodded. “What about 16.5? Given that I want to re-due the kitchen, and I would want to negotiate for the furniture to come with the house.”

“The kitchen is brand new,” The agent stated, but you knew he was lying. “And all of the furniture is from a staging company.”

“No, the kitchen isn’t, it has a free standing coffee maker, and the fronts of the cabinets need to be replaced. I’m sure the seller can pay out the staging company. Let’s also talk about the fact that it also isn’t on the market yet. I bet that the seller will want to list it at 17.5 and it’ll sit because the price is too high.”

You didn’t work in real estate but after all of your years in banking, private asset management was something you were knowledgeable in. Homes like this one were important assets in a portfolio. Since the house wasn’t new construction, and the seller wasn’t the original builder, they couldn’t price it at 17.5 million given the other homes in the area.

“He won’t go for that.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” You weren’t really suggesting it. But the agent was making it hard for you, you had clients at work who were more decisive in their choices then this guy.

It took a few seconds, but it was almost like the agent had scurried off to the other side of the house with his hand tightly gripping his phone.

“So this is what I’m missing while you’re working all day.” Max said softly, as he laid one of his hands on your hip.

“Max,” You said. He had pulled you into his chest and quickly dropped a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“I’m sitting in on one of your meetings next time.” You couldn’t tell if Max was joking or not. You knew that he was only trying to make you relax a bit.

“And what are you going to do while I’m busy?”

“I’ll find something to entertain myself with.” You saw Max’s eyes drop to your neck, before they quicked moved up again to meet your eyes.

“Want to play my assistant for the day?” You asked him. You could see the excitement fill Max’s eyes, and knew that if Max was going to watch you “work” you weren’t going to get anything done that day. He gave you a wordless nod before you heard footsteps again.

“16.5 million, all cash, outdoor furniture included.” The Agent was quick to say with his phone pressed into his white shirt.

Max just looked at you, and you read it as he was letting you take care of this. You gave the agent a half nod, “With a 14 day inspection contingency.”

The agent just stared at you, and you could hear sound coming from his phone. He gave you a curt nod, and placed his phone back up to his ear reiterating your additional stipulation.

It took a few moments before the agent got off the phone. “The seller is willing to take the additional stipulation.”

“Great.” You said.

“I’ll start the paperwork and we should have everything ready in the next few days.” The agent placed his hand out towards you. You shook his hand, and then he shook Max’s. “Congratulations on your new home.”

The agent left both of you in the house, instructing you to place the key back in the lock box. Technically you weren’t allowed to have the keys until the paperwork went through and everything was signed and notarized.

“Welcome home.” Max said with his hand on your hip.

“Tell me that again when we get the keys and the kitchen is re-done.”

Max laughed, “I’ll make sure, mijn leeuwin.”

You leaned into Max and up to kiss him. It would take a little bit but you couldn’t wait to make this house into yours and Max’s home.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca

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notsosweetchan · 2 days

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Warning: Smut (Minors Do Not Interact)

Paring - Chan x Reader -

Late night recording

Link

Chan has been touring for almost a month now, and it had been way too long since he last saw Y/N. The longing in his heart ached with every beat as he stroked his massive cock, the head already leaking pre-cum that glistened in the low light of the hotel’s room interior.

He pulled out his phone, hitting record as he let out a breathy moan, "I wish you were here baby." He couldn't help but imagine her reaction if she could see him now - her eyes widening at the size of his erection, her soft lips parting in anticipation as he began to stroke gently over the thick length.

He moaned louder as he imagined she was there with him, her delicate hand replacing his own, stroking him in sync with those memories. Chan groaned louder into the phone, knowing that she would love to hear how much he missed her touch. "I can't wait to taste you again...every inch of you..."

His hand moved faster now working more pre-cum along his shaft as he fantasized about plunging into her warmth, feeling her tightness envelop him like a second skin.

"Mmm, baby... I'm so hard for you." Chan groaned, his hips bucking slightly. He knew he was close, but he wanted to savor the thought of her as much as he could. "I miss your pretty moans," he moaned into the phone, thinking about how she would bite her lip when she was close to climax.

"I wish I could feel you clenching around me... your pussy milking my cock..."

Chan could almost feel her around him - hot, wet, and tight. His hand moved faster now, his heavy breaths and moans filling the room and being captured by the phone's microphone.

As he neared his climax, Chan couldn't help but imagine Y/N's slender fingers wrapping around his shaft, the soft giggle escaping her lips as she watched him lose control. He wanted nothing more than to hear her voice in his ear, begging him to cum for her.

"Come for me, Channie," she would whisper, her fingertips dancing across his sensitive skin. His body shook with anticipation, his muscles tense as he felt himself getting closer and closer. He gripped the phone tighter, biting down on his lower lip at the thought of her touch.

With a loud groan, he came, his eyes squeezed shut tightly as streams of warm liquid spurted out onto his stomach and chest. His hand slowed down, the aftershocks of his orgasm coursing through his body as he breathed heavily into the phone.

"Fuck, I love you," he panted, the words barely audible.Little did he know, Y/N lay in her own bedroom halfway across the world, her hand between her legs as she watched him cum all over the screen of her phone.

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paleroze · 3 days

Text

Blade Imagines 🔞

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Having a lover that is literally a wanted criminal, of course you would rarely see him. You, Blade's significant other that he always desires to return to after weeks, possibly months, of not touching you would always be his top priority once he sets foot in your shared home.

You knew of Blade's occupation, you're familiar with his work but never really dwell on it to keep you safe, according to him. Blade wanted to keep you out of trouble as much as possible, as his lover, you are meant to keep your relationship hidden.

He could only keep an eye on you when he's away, a quick visit in the town you reside secretly with him and you don't know of such activities he's done when stalking you, just to keep you safe.

It has been a month since he was gone, and as soon as his script was finished, Blade travelled back home as fast as he could.

Weeks since he last saw you, Blade searched around the house in hope to hold you again. Fortunately, he found you just stepping out of the kitchen, a food in hand.

Your eyes widened as soon as you saw him standing in the living room, placing down the food you were holding and ran up to him, hugging him tightly as he returned the gesture, kissing your neck in the process.

"I've missed you.." You muttered, pulling away from him. You smiled as you inspected him, no new wounds on his body, and he looked.. he still looked handsome.

"Have you eaten?" You asked, despite you pulling yourself away from him, Blade still holds your hand.

"I did." A white lie for you to not get worry, Blade ate like hours ago before he was finished and out of the Stellaron Hunter's base.

"You should rest, you're probably tired." You turned off the screen that has been playing for a while now to keep you distracted and led him to your shared bedroom.

You have so many things to tell him while he's away, and Blade knows you do. The man had stalked you once a week while he was out on a mission, and you were unaware of all of it.

You urge Blade to lay beside you, and he takes off those agonizing layers of clothing, keeping only his pants and he lays beside you, holding you close as he rests on top of you.

Blade held you close, as soon as his body touched yours, his mind drifted somewhere else. He kissed your body that stops you from speaking. But he urged you to keep going, wanting to hear your voice.

"Then I.. bought you something. Ah–" He bit your neck stopping your thoughts from forming.

"A gift for me?" He whispered. You nod, "I think I already got it." Blade sits up from crushing you, even if you liked the weight he puts on you.

You aren't dumb, you know what he meant and he waits for you to prepare yourself. "Okay.. if that would make you happy." You spoke.

"I am more than happy, Darling." To be able to touch you like this, Blade was in euphoria and he knew he would dive deeper as soon as he gets to taste you.

Blade traveled down until his face was on your crotch, he pulled down the shorts you were wearing and he almost moaned to the sight in front of him. He didn't waste any time and Blade rested both of your legs on his shoulders and wrapped his arms around your thighs, leaning down to kiss your pussy that has begun to leak.

"Blade..." You moan his name, your fingers tug on his hair and you push yourself closer to his mouth, aching for him to go deeper. Both his arms remain locked on your thighs, keeping you in place as you push and pull, despite knowing of wanting more of his tongue on your pussy.

His head, trapped between your thigh and your legs wrapped around him locking him in place as if he would want to pull away from the meal that is presented to him.

Breathy moans kept the room in noises, along with his tongue lapping on your hole as he sucked your clit earning him a thrust of your hips and his name escapes between your lips in a whisper.

You kept your mouth shut, shy to make a noise but the whimpers. He slaps your thigh, a warning to not hide the moans he adores after not hearing your voice for several weeks.

His tongue flicks on the bud, thrust and laps on your pussy, his content moans suppressed while he keeps his face between your legs. His eyes remain fixated on you, adoring of how you look at being pleasured and the teary face of yours made his cock throb.

You can feel him getting faster, eating you out as if it was his last, and you couldn't keep your noise anymore, barely holding on to the thread that kept you from release. His large calloused hand caress your hips, with a suck on your clit, you came with a cry, spilling on his mouth and you pull him closer with your legs. Blade choked from the pull and he swore he's in dreamland from how your thighs wrapped around his head and your pussy pulsating from the release, he continues and you tried to push him away to avoid being overstimulated but Blade is a stubborn man, and quite a mean one.

"Mn s-stop..! Bla-de, stop! I'm– oh...!"

You cried out, the heels of your feet jab on his back, begging for him to pull away, your hands tug on the messy hair of his to push him away but he's persistent to keep you on coming.

You sob as tears fall on your cheeks, unused with too much pleasure despite how many times Blade had fucked you to the point you would pass out till he gets satisfied.

"S-stop I'm gonna cum again! 'm gonn- cum!"

Spurts of liquid cover his face, the mess beneath him is just your fluid that he desperately laps on.

Your back arched from the bed as you ride out your second orgasm, clawing on the sheets and you hide your face on the pillow to hide your embarrassment.

Minutes have passed and your body shakes from the overstimulation, Blade kissed and cleaned you with his tongue, eyes too hazy and focused on your glistening pussy.

His hot breath on your hole made you shiver once he pulled away, he trailed kisses up to your body until he's face to face with you. Blade kissed near your eye and your shaking arms wrapped around him, holding him close and his lips met yours.

His skilled tongue explores your mouth, and you try to keep up with him only to drown to the bliss of his gentle hold he could muster.

Blade unbuttoned his pants and pushed down until his cock was free from its confinements. He aligned himself in your pussy and thrusts in while you were distracted, the sudden intrusion made you gasp from pulling away, feeling how big he is and missing the feeling of your walls clenching around his thick cock.

He moaned from the tightness, "Calm down.. Breathe." He eased, caressing your side.

Once you've gotten used to his size again, Blade experimental thrusts slowly into you which causes a moan from you. His lazy thrusts build up your orgasm once more.

"Hm?" You whined, unused with how Blade is going slow rather than his usual fast thrusts. You're more familiar with his rough treatment, but with how things they are right now, Blade was being rather gentle.

He chuckled, "I love you.."

Even if he was being slow, his thrust was still hard and met your satisfaction, his tip kissing your cervix and your inside clench around his cock.

It didn't take time for him to chase his own release, his movements getting faster until he spills inside of you. You came one last time with him, mixing with his cum, he continues to thrust into you that some even spilled out of your pussy.

Blade kisses you as he lays down on the bed, switching the both of you until you're on top of him, his cock still inside you and he made no plans on pulling out.

You rest your head on the crook of his neck, leaving marks, a reminder that he's taken.

Eventually, you fell asleep first. Blade plays with your hair and traces his fingertips on your body he worships.

His touch has never been this gentle, and making love with you is what he has been looking out for ever since you came to his life, and Blade would cherish every moment he's with you.

#pale writes 18 #blade smut #blade x reader #hsr blade #blade x y/n #blade x you #blade x female reader #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr smut

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henry7931 · 16 hours

Text

Babe It’s Okay, I’m Bi

James:

This beautiful man right here is my girlfriend Chloe. It’s a very weird situation so let me explain, a couple weeks ago Chloe was in some strange science experiment accident that caused her to swap bodies with this guy named Derek.

And from what information we’ve collected this may be a permanent situation. As you can imagine she’s been pretty upset the last couple of weeks. And I’ve been trying to be the best to support her while she figures everything out.

It’s been a challenge for the both of us especially since we just moved in together a couple of months ago. We’ve been dating for a while but I think we’re at a point where I’ve been thinking about proposing which this just messed everything up. Well not completely I guess…

I have been holding on to a secret from her for years now and I don’t know how to say it. Not that I ever thought it really mattered until now.

The truth is really don’t care if she swaps back to her old body, I love her. Okay let just say it, I am sexually attracted to girls but I also like dudes. Specifically dudes like the body she’s in.

She or he is so freaking handsome! He’s tall, tan skin, has this really sexy stash, and I can’t get over his tattoos. So hot!

But I’ve been trying to walk a very careful line with him. And we still low key flirt all the time but I can see his hesitation.

Which makes me sad, I just wish I can tell him without hurting his feelings.

On the flip side, it would so help since every time he asks me something about being a guy I get extremely turned on. Like why are his balls itchy from time to time, why is it easier to pee standing up, and the boners!

I don’t know if he even notices but he’ll walk around with a hard on in our apartment and it’s everything in me not to reach out and dig into his briefs.

Which makes me wonder, when the hell does he jerk off? I know he’s been staying busy lately, I’m just curious how he makes the time.

He’s been hitting up the gym a lot and when comes home. He’ll kick off his smelly shoes, workout clothes, and walk around sweaty in nothing but his undies. Which I can’t help but stare.

And the hardest part is at night, we still sleep in the same bed.

It’s my favorite part because he will cuddle with me in his sleep. I don’t think he even notices that I let him. But every night I’ll something poking my back and then his arm will wrap around me. He’ll start humping me in his sleep from time to time.

But I need to get this off of my chest. This is probably going to be permanent and I desperately want my relationship back!

So tonight I’m going for it. I’m going to let him know that I’m into him.

That Night:

I get off of work around 6 and the second I walk through the door I hear a light moaning coming from another room.

I walk to the outside of the door and peak inside.

That’s when I see Chloe stroking it on our bed with his headphones in. I don’t think he can hear me.

I hear his voice, “James..” so softly…

Fuck, he’s jerking to pics of me.

“James… baby I want you so bad…”

I start unbuttoning my shirt and I kick off my shoes ready to jump in any second.

“Holy shit! James!”

All of the sudden Chloe grabs a pillow and covers his massive boner.

I grin at him and say, “You don’t need your cover yourself I was enjoying the show babe.”

“Oh shut up you’re just saying that!”

“No, I mean it,” I say walking over and unbuckling my pants.

“Babe, you don’t have to pretend for me. I know this isn’t ideal but—“

I immediately grab the pillow and pull it away. His dick is fully exposed and he has this shocked look on his face.

Before he can react, I grab his junk and say, “does this look like I’m pretending?”

“But… but… I’m a guy!”

I start fondling his junk just lightly tickling his balls.

“Yeah and I haven’t been honest with you,” I say leaning in to his face.

“Yeah?” he says to me softly.

“I don’t really care what body you’re in, I’m attracted to you. And sides, you wouldn’t be the first guy I’ve been with.”

“What the hell James!”

I start rubbing his cockhead and he lets out a yelp noise.

“Can we talk about this later? I’ve been waiting to do this with you for a minute now,” I say right before kissing his neck.

“Oh my! James that feels so damn good.”

I kiss down his neck until I get to his nipples.

I twist one of them which makes his eyes roll back into his head.

I kiss down his chest to his happy trail until I’m at his thighs.

“God you have the nicest dick,” I say to him.

He grins, “thanks I think I like it too.”

“Well I think you’re going to like it more after this.”

“Huh?”

I wrap my lips around his dick giving it a very sloppy kiss. I begin to take down my throat which causes him to moan even louder.

“Holy shit yeah I love having a dick!!” he lets out.

I stop for a sec to let out a giggle.

“You know this is going to change everything for our sex life right?”

“What do you mean?” He says confused.

“Well, I’m vers but we don’t know if you’re a top or bottom yet,” I say grinning.

His eyes get wide, “I mean I’m open to anything but will it hurt?”

“A little at first but we don’t have to try right now,” I say back.

I look over his fully naked lower half, it’s the first time I’ve gotten to see it this close.

I rub his thighs down to his feet. I look up at him and say, “hey can I do something?”

“Sure babe as long as you go back to sucking this,” he says holding out his hard cock.

I lift up his feet and bring them to my face. I take deep breath before inhaling them.

“Are you kidding me?!? You’re not just bi but have a foot fetish?”

“Well I wouldn’t go that far, you just have some sexy toes,” I say kissing them.

“Yeah they are nice I guess, even for a boy.”

I pull off my pants and boxers, we’re both naked now.

“Oh I’ve missed your dick babe!”

“Aw thanks!”

“Can I touch it?” he says reach out.

“I would love nothing more”

I feel his hands touching all over my junk. It feels so good. Thats when I got another idea.

“Hey since we both have dicks now? What if we 69?”

“I’m not opposed!”

Chlo gets on top of me and starts to lower his crotch towards my face. I can feel his lips touch my dick. That’s when I feel his mustache which makes he squirm at bit.

It takes us a second before we have a full rhythm down. I’m sucking and we start pacing faster before Chlo lifts his head.

“Oh my god! I’m about to cum!!”

And with very little warning, Chlo pushes his 10 inch dick down my throat and shoots so much cum out.

As he pulls out it’s dripping from my mouth. It takes a second to register but his cum tastes pretty good.

“That was amazing,” he says panting.

“Well I’m not done yet,” I say pointing at my eager boner.

“Well how a nice surprise for you.”

That’s when he does something I’d never expect. Chlo wipes a bunch of cum off my mouth and proceeds to rub it on the soles of his feet.

“Since you like them so much,” he says with a silly grin.

He takes both of his feet and wraps his toes around my dick.

He begins to move back and forth with them and it’s so hot that I can’t even take it.

His feet touch my dick for like 1 minute before I burst all over them.

I look at the cum covered toes and I can’t help myself from licking them clean.

I go grab us a couple of towels and walk back in to see my beautiful boyfriend laying in bed grinning.

“You wanna go somewhere for dinner?” I say to him.

“Nah let’s do take out, I’ll be ready for round 2 here soon,” he says patting at the bed for me to come back.

“Fuck, I love you!”

“I love you too, even if you forgot to mention the whole liking guys thing.”

“Well babe, what can I say? I’m bi.”

#body swap #male body swap #permanent tf #ftm tf

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gretavanmoon · 2 days

Text

S17

Spinning Now: "Birthday Sex" by Jeremih (2009)

Pairing: Danny x female reader

Word Count: 14.3k

Description: Danny's always been that friend and roommate who you never thought of as anything more, until a birthday proposition presents itself in a way that neither of you can deny.

Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, Heavy Flirting, Praise, Dirty Talk, Touching, Wax Play

Smut: Kissing, Oral M!Receiving, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex (use protection!!)

+ This little diddly of an idea has been swimming around in my head for months now, and I've been so excited to get it going. And thanks to the reader who suggested it be a roomies trope ;) Hope ya like xoxo

Girl you know i i i...

HER POV

White or red?

There is no special occasion, simply just the bi-weekly dinner gathering of your friend group that has turned into an every-Thursday-night habit. Not that an occasion constitutes your wine choice, but still yet, the thought quickly crosses your mind. You are all meeting at your and Danny’s house tonight, along with the conjoined group of friends that has been steadily keeping each other fed for the past two and a half years, now.

You’d been living with Danny for as long as you could remember, taking claim of his spare room sometime after everyone collectively moved out of your parents’ homes. The arrangement worked perfectly, the two of you already knowing how the other ticked after being friends for many years. Your jobs kept both of you busy, giving the other enough room that you didn’t feel like you were invading space in the small house.

You pull your phone from your pocket as you peruse the wine selections, texting the group chat to check on tonight’s menu.

You: What are we making tonight again? I already forgot

Jake: Salmon and quinoa and some other stuff

Jake: God your memory sucks

You: Emma, come get your man he’s being mean to me again

Emma: Quit picking on her babe

You: Ok so I should get white wine, right? Pairs with fish?

Sam: Just get three fuckin bottles of wine, who cares

You: Ok I’m not coming if you guys are gonna continue to harass me

Sam: Too bad it’s your house and you have to be there anyway

You: I’ll lock myself in my room I don’t care

Danny: No Y/N, if they’re gonna be assholes they don’t have to come over. They can stay home and we can order pizza :)

Jake: Shut the fuck up Sam, I’m making the damned salmon and quinoa

Josh: What the fuck is quinoa

You shove your phone back in your pocket as you roll your eyes, the buzzing still consistent as you imagine they are still arguing with one another.

It's funny how much Danny has been defending you lately. He’s still his normal self, your very good friend who sometimes lets his sweet side get the better of him, but in the past couple of months, something has switched. The more the brothers pick on you, the more he stands up for you. It used to be the opposite, with him joining in on your playful dog-piling any chance he could get. But ever since a couple of months ago… ever since his last birthday…

Almost three years ago now, you and Danny had found yourselves wrapped up in each other’s arms in his bed after a drunken night that started out like any other, dinner, socializing, cards, and way too much to drink. It was his birthday party, and after everyone else had cleared out, you stayed up to clean up the multitude of plastic cups and empty bottles that were scattered around the house. You were both fairly drunk, and you knew if you got the majority of the party cleaned up that night, you wouldn’t have to bother with it all while being inevitably hungover the next morning.

“I’ll get out of your hair soon, Danny. I’m about to call an Uber to go stay with Emma.” You’d said as you dried the last of the dishes. He was sprawled out over on the loveseat, his shirt halfway unbuttoned and his mess of curls pulled up on top of his head. You’d always found him attractive, but you’d always been positive he was way out of your league. He’d never even given you a passing glance in that way. Except, that night, he looked exceptionally delicious… and your hazy, drunken mind undoubtedly had started to drift.

“What? Whyyyyy…? Don’t get an Uber, it’s too late,” he’d slurred as you walked over to sit on the ottoman his feet were rested on.

“Becauseeee… it’s your birthday and I don’t want to interrupt your time with whatever guest you might have coming over.” You remember the words felt heavy in your mouth, like it was strange that you had never talked about Danny’s personal life out loud before. Or yours, for that matter. Even after all the years of being friends and roommates, the two of you had always taken things as they’d come… watching as strangers made their way in and out of your bedrooms without a second question.

“Guest?” His face contorted. “I ‘ont have a guest coming over, Y/N…”

You’d let your mouth gape open and your hand clutch your chest in a display of over-dramatics. “Really? No one to give you a happy ending on your birthday?! You must be falling off the wagon, Wagner.”

What you do remember, though, was how hard he laughed at your half-assed attempt at a shitty joke.

“I swear! Just me, tonight.” It was at that very second that you remember becoming enamored with the way he licked his lips, how he clicked his tongue just a little, and how his eyes had fluttered closed under his lashes. He’d reached his hand out for you to grab, so you did.

“You gonna let me be lonely on my birthday, Y/N?” His warm fingers slowly worked their way to interlace with yours. This flirtatious tone wasn’t something you’d ever seen from him before, but for some reason, you found yourself tumbling for it. The deep rasp in his voice signaled something else, something so unexpected from him that you almost laughed it off as him kidding with you.

Your eyes had glanced around the room in confusion, and when you didn’t answer, you felt his foot kick into your leg, bringing your eyes back to look at him. His eyebrow was cocked in the air, as if he was waiting for an answer.

“You’re drunk, Danny… you don’t…” you’d anxiously answered, nodding your head side to side in disbelief.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t want me to… stay…” for some reason, he was making you nervous, and you were having trouble answering him. There was no way he wanted you to stay, of all people. No way in hell.

He’d laughed, sitting up on the couch and leaning over to take you in his arms in a giant bear hug. His face was buried into your shoulder, pulling you close in the warmest embrace you’d had in a while. It was strange feeling him this closely, and you shivered a little at his touch. You’d hugged him back, and then felt his lips drift close to your ear.

“I actually do… want you to stay here with me. In my room, in my bed, until tomorrow morning…” his voice crackled in your ear, the faint scent of spicy tequila still on his breath. It’d sent chills all over your body, and you had to admit, it was a strangely welcome feeling. Danny had never been this close to you, like this, ever before. His words had shocked your system, though, temporarily deeming you unable to respond.

So when he finally pulled back from the hug and confidently met your eyes again, you let yourself go with it. You were still fairly intoxicated, but this drop dead gorgeous friend of yours who had hardly ever given you the time of day was now throwing himself into your lap. Why turn him down? It was his birthday, after all.

“I never knew you were into me, Danny,” you’d cooed, watching as his fingers drifted across the back of your hand.

He sat back and dropped his head against the cushion again, cracking his fingers above his head. “I‘ve always been into you, Y/N. You’re gorgeous and fun, make me laugh… always been so good to me.”

You’d never admitted it, but of course you had pictured yourself with him a time or two. How could you not? Talented, handsome, kind and genuine…always looking for fun and always including you in his outlandish plans. But this…him laying it out on the line like this? It had your body beginning to physically yearn for him, completely out of nowhere.

“Stop playing, no you haven’t…” you’d argued, still in disbelief.

He held his hands up in surrender, cocking a sideways smile. “I swear. I just… never had the guts to say anything…”

You contemplated it all for a second, giving him a questioning look that begged for his reassurance.

“Why not, ya know? Not like we’re strangers…” you’d muttered through a sharp inhale.

You stood from the ottoman and slowly began stepping one foot in front of the other toward him, standing just between his legs. Your heart rate spiked as you answered him, your face flushing with the reality of what you were about to do. “Just a birthday hookup, huh? Just this one time?”

You let your hand brush against his thigh, your fingers lightly tickling until they reached his hip. It felt as though your hands were disconnected from your body, making their own decision to reach out and touch him as he sat reclined in front of you. Gently, his hands pulled around your waist, his thumbs digging into the flesh, strong and inviting.

“Just this one time…and that’s it.”

That night, the two of you stayed up until the winter sun was striking through the windows onto Danny’s white down comforter, and only then did the two of you finally drift off to a short but sweet slumber, until the alarm on his phone woke you both in a panic.

You’d fallen asleep upside-down on the bed, both of your heads at the foot of his king-size. His arm was draped across the small of your back, and his hair was still a messy bundle of curls at the back of his head.

“Fuck,” he’d muttered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, it’s your alarm…”

Suddenly, now, in the light of day and the brightness of the room, the both of you became very conscious of your unclothed selves. You’d felt your cheeks blush at the sight of him, skin still dewy with the after-effects of sweat and sex. You didn’t miss his passing glance of you, too, still halfway wrapped up in his sheets as he maneuvered to the top of the bed to check the time.

“‘S only seven. Shit, I’ve got a headache…” he said, running a hand over his face.

“Me too,” you mumbled as he laid back down beside you. You pulled the covers up a bit more over your body, feeling extremely exposed in the bright sunlight. He propped himself up on his elbows, giving you a sweet and questioning look. “So, what are we supposed to do now?” you’d asked. “Cuddle?”

His laugh bounced off the walls, the glitter in his eye sending a wave of nerves through your body.

“We cuddled plenty last night, Y/N. We didn’t end up falling asleep until like, six,” he said, his voice groggy with sleep, or lack thereof.

“Fuck,” you breathed. “I’m sorry for keeping you up all night, I know you have things to do all day–” he cut you off with a kiss, his neck craning down to meet your lips with the sweetest surprise touch.

After a few fleeting seconds he pulled away, meeting your eyes as he spoke again. “Don’t you dare apologize to me, Y/N. I asked you to stay in here. Asked you to keep me company on my birthday.” His hand reached up to pull the hair away from your cheek, bringing instant flashbacks of his hands on your face and shoulders last night as he pinned you down, fucking you into his mattress. “I was just completely unaware that both of us would last for that many hours…” he laughed, rolling away to cover his face.

“God, Danny, don’t embarrass me!” you laughed along with him.

“What is there to be embarrassed about?! Shit, I think we were great together,” he went on, holding his hand out for you to low-five.

You pursed your lips together, letting your hand clap onto his. “We were, weren’t we? Never would have thought.”

“Shit, I thought about it all the time…” he admitted.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you played, smacking him across the chest.

“I don’t know, you’re just a girl in my friend group, ya know? My roommate that helps me with rent…didn’t want to freak you out or something and make you hate me,” he explained.

You propped up on your elbow, shaking your head at him. “So we could have been doing this all along?”

“Oh, so you enjoyed yourself, then?” he countered, rolling you to lie on your back as he pulled himself over you again.

As you gazed up at him above you, small curly strands falling around his face and onto yours, you felt your face get hot, the same need you felt in your stomach for him last night coming back full force. A need you never thought you would have for him. A need that came back to you over and over again the night before, and left you both too exhausted to even bother to see the morning.

“Danny, we fucked like five times, of course I enjoyed myself,” you tried to keep the confidence heavy in your voice.

His nose scrunched up as he giggled, light and airy into the room. He laced his fingers with yours, lifting your hands together into the air and pulling them back down between you again. This time, you took the initiative and kissed him again, straining to keep things from moving as quickly as they had moved once you finally climbed into his lap on the couch last night.

When you finally separated, both of you refraining from letting it go any further, he disconnected your hands and clenched his jaw. “What do we do now?”

You didn’t want a relationship. And neither did he. That much was very known amongst your friend group, the both of you way too busy with your own lives to devote your time to another. You stood strong in that decision, and you knew for a fact that he would, too. So your mind began wandering, thinking of ways to end this entanglement you’d found yourselves in.

“What if we just… did this sometimes?” you proposed.

His brow furrowed. “I’m listening…”

“Our birthdays. Yours in December, and mine in June… it’s perfect. If the both of us are single on our birthday each year, we make a plan to not leave the other lonely…” The idea seemed preposterous, but at the same time, it didn't. A sure-fire way to make each of your birthdays interesting each year, and after the night you’d shared last night, you’re positive he wouldn’t turn the idea down.

His eyes dashed around the room as he considered it, taking a deep breath as he sat up in the bed. You caught a glance of his naked lower half, and your eyes rolled back on their own accord as you pictured his hips pounding into yours last night in the darkness of his bedroom. You sat up too, challenging his gaze.

He held his hand out again, this time for you to shake.

“Deal.”

—-

After deciding on the three bottles of wine, two white and a red, your mind begins wandering off by itself, causing you to hardly pay attention to the fact that you are singing the words to the song playing in your headphones out loud. You bite your lips, glancing around to see if anyone had seen you, or worse, heard your horribly flat singing voice. Luckily the aisle is clear, so you make a mad dash for the checkout line, ready to get out and head back home for dinner.

The drive is short, and when you finally arrive in the driveway, you find that you’re the last one to get there.

“Hello, hello,” you sing as you let yourself inside, kicking off your flip flops at the door. You set the bag of wine bottles on his island where Jake and Sam are busy preparing the meal.

“Thank god, the booze is here!” you hear Josh sing through the house as he makes his way over to stand beside you, opening the drawer of the island to search for Danny’s wine opener. You set all three bottles in line on the countertop in a nice straight line. “Shiraz, Y/N? That’s surely a bold choice…” Josh says, rolling his eyes.

“The label looked pretty, I don’t know!” you counter, shoving your shoulder into his. “It already smells really good, guys…” you say as you leave Josh to the wine, leaning over Jake’s shoulder as he stirs a pot at the stove. Suddenly Danny is leaning over his other side, sticking his finger in whatever sauce Jake is stirring.

“Aht, aht!” Jake swats his hand away just as Danny sticks his finger into the saucepan. “It’s not perfect yet…”

“Tastes good as hell to me,” Danny says, locking eyes with you as he pops his lips over his finger. You feel your insides churn.

“So Y/N, your birthday is next week, you guys planning your weird little bi-yearly birthday hookup still?” Josh nonchalantly asks as he yanks the cork from the bottle of red. Fortunately, it only took nearly two years for your friends to catch on to your and Danny’s little birthday agreement, when Jake inadvertently tried to surprise Danny with filling up his bathroom with balloons, only to find you bent over the bathroom sink.

“Christ, Josh, you have to put it like that?” Danny intervened. “Geez…”

“What?! That’s what it is, right?” Josh says as he pulls glasses down from the cabinet. You feel your face blush, even though it’s an open topic, at this point.

Danny pulls himself up to sit on the corner of his countertop. “No, we simply enjoy the other’s company on our birthdays because both of us suck at the dating playing field and always decide to indulge in one another’s availability, right Y/N?”

“That’s correct,” you confidently agree as you listen to the others groan.

Josh throws his head back and laughs loudly.

“What?” Danny yelps.

“You don’t think it’s funny that neither of you have ever had a significant other on your birthdays for the past what, three years now?” Josh says, eliciting silent looks of agreement from his brothers.

“Mmm, no, I don’t think it’s funny. We both suck at dating, you heard him. This is just…our way of making sure we aren’t alone twice a year.” The attempt at explaining yourselves is transparent, at this point. You know you’re lying to yourselves. It's obvious. Each and every time you pull yourself from Danny’s bed, or he from yours, you feel your bones begging you to stay. You like him, you’ll admit it, but only to yourself.

Twice a year isn’t enough, it was never enough. And you know for a fact that it will never be enough. On his birthday last year, you could have sworn you heard him say something close to the ‘L’ word as he came for the third time that night, his voice low and whining as you clenched around him, bringing him to his completely fucked-out state of mind. Each hookup had gotten hotter, heavier, and more serious. Each time was better than the last, and this last one was so intense, that you ended up staying in his room a second night, completely breaking your own rules.

As you slipped out of his bedroom that second morning, his honey brown eyes were begging you to stay, his lips touching his fingertips and blowing it your way as you quietly shut his bedroom door behind you.

That morning broke you. That morning your heart told you what it wanted.

That morning was the last time you denied it to yourself– you were absolutely head over heels for him. The yearning you’d felt had begun overtaking your whole self. And it wasn’t just yearning, it was something else. Something more powerful, something you couldn’t grasp the notion of, because you’d never felt it before. It’s now become something that makes your days drag by with the thought of him, not only sexually but personally, too. You feel wrapped up in his life, intertwined with his decisions, and some days you barely even have the time to give each other more than a goodmorning and goodnight. Sure, you still meet up every week with your group for dinner, but the subtle touches and the intense glances that are being shared almost on the daily now have become too much. You want to tell him. You need to tell him.

“Hm. Okay, so… what’s the plan this year?” Josh asks, obviously wanting to pry into your business, just like always.

“Josh, it’s none of your fucking business. Can you leave them alone for a second?” Sam says as he empties the box of rice into the insta-pot.

“No, it’s fine. I have big plans…” Danny bites his cheeks in as he denies himself a cheeky smile, swinging his bare feet as he sits on the counter. His eyes are boring into yours, and you swear just a simple word from him would have you on your knees for him, anymore.

“Big plans, huh?” you try to avoid his stare.

“Mmmmhm…” he says, grinning to himself. “Might have you running away and never coming back, though.”

You nearly choke on the sip of wine swirling in your mouth. Throughout the years, you will admit, your hookups had gotten more and more mischievous as time went on, both of you pushing each other’s boundaries just a little more each time. Nothing had ever gotten too crazy, but after his birthday last year, it was an unwritten understanding that not much was off the table, at all.

Sam plugs his ears with his fingers. “La la la I don’t wanna hear details!”

Jake pulls his wooden spoon from the sauce, turning to face all of you. “I do, I wanna hear it. Keep going. What’s the plan?”

“I’m not fuckin’ tellin’ you guys, it’ll ruin the surprise,” Danny argues as Josh hands him a glass of wine.

“Okay well you can tell me after her birthday then, right?” Jake pushes.

Emma steps in front of him, taking the now dripping spoon from his hand and running her tongue up the side to catch it from going into the floor. “Yeah Danny, maybe you should give him the rundown, maybe it’ll get his wheels turning,” she challenges, bouncing her eyebrows to Jake as she places the spoon back into the sauce. You laugh at her, feeling no embarrassment in the least.

“Get my wheels turning?! What is that supposed to mean?!” Jake yells, grabbing her waist from behind and spinning her around the kitchen.

You lock eyes with Danny again as he gives you a suspicious look of excitement, like he’s trying his hardest to keep his idea locked inside.

—---

After a rambunctious and wine-drunk dinner, everyone begins to file out of the house, stumbling away to either walk down the street to their respective homes, or catching a ride out with other friends to the nearest bar. You’re left behind again, like always, helping Danny with dishes and pouring out the remaining bits of wine left behind in the glasses.

“So, next week. The big 2-5. You still down for hanging out?” he asks as he dries the last dish, as if you would ever say no.

“Actually, I think I’m going to spend this year alone, ya know? Keep it low key, order some take-out and curl up on the couch,” you say with a cheeky tone.

His jaw hangs slack as he nearly drops the towel in his hand. “Really?”

You scoff. “No, Danny. Are you serious? We shook on it, and I don’t break my promises,” you laugh. You slowly walk toward him, the line between friend and more than a friend getting blurrier as time goes on. You want to put your hands on his bare chest, press yourself against his warm body, crane your neck up to meet for a sweet kiss, but you don’t. Because you can’t. Because he isn’t yours.

So instead you just simply stand before him, leaning a hand onto the countertop.

He lets out an audible sigh of relief. “Shew, good. I was about to be pissed at you, Y/N,” he breathes as he playfully shoves your shoulder. “Standing me up on your birthday…”

You smile as you realize your feet are carrying you closer to him on their own. You try to stop them, try to tell them no, but you can’t. Now you’re standing in front of him, your chests almost touching as you let your finger trail up his arm to his neck. “I’d never stand you up, Danny. Not in a million years,” you murmur.

You feel his body stiffen as you let your singular fingertip connect with his skin, your touch a featherlight drift. You glance down at his hand balanced on the cold marble countertop, his fingers tightening and loosening under the weight of his own want to touch you back. You hear him breathe in, fast and choppy as you begin to manipulate the line between friends and more, truly unable to keep it black and white no matter how much you try. Finally you let your eyes look into his, dark and brooding and looking a lot like they do after a few rounds of self-indulgence with you.

“Good,” he growls, “because I have a hell of a night planned for us.”

Us.

“Is that right?” you question, still trailing your fingertip across his arm and neck. You can see the chill bumps forming on his skin now, and you can tell he is physically restraining himself from succumbing to his mental constraints. You have to admit, you’re finding it very satisfying, watching his mind tell his body no. The muscles in his arms flex and tighten as you step closer, slowly tiptoeing to bring your faces close, your lips barely ghosting his.

“That’s very right,” he whispers, opening his mouth slightly as if he’s going to kiss you, but instead pulling back a little. The proximity is enough to make you feel soaked already, your entire body buzzing with fire for him.

“When do you want me ready?” you breathe, letting your lips graze across his, your finger now hooked behind his bicep. His hands are still gripping as he balances between the island and the countertop as he leans down to you, restraining himself still yet.

He’s inhaling and blowing air quickly through his nose, and you know for a fact that he’s holding himself back with everything in him. His jaw clenches hard as his eyes stay trained on your lips. “Want you right now, if I’m being honest…” His words make the butterflies in your stomach explode their wings.

You can taste the wine still heavy on his breath. “But it’s not my birthday, Danny…” you retort.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m getting to a point where I don’t care.”

You swallow it down. Maybe your thoughts are mutual… Your heart is absolutely racing, like it would do when you found out your elementary school crush liked you back. You don’t even know what to say, at this point, you want him so badly…your vision blurring with the mental snaps of the two of you wrapped up in one another again.

“You should care, we have an agreement,” you admit through your teeth, as badly as it hurts to say it. “We set our rules.”

He scoffs hard. “I don’t remember signing my name on any dotted line, Y/N,” he spurts back, making you feel that drop in your stomach again. He wants to break the rules, too.

You bite your lips in, deciding to cut your losses. You step back from him, disconnecting your finger from behind his arm, and stepping away. The flushed look on his pink cheeks is enough to make you want to run back into his arms, and the look on his face makes it seem as though he just lost the one thing in his life he never planned on having, anyway.

“I asked you a question, Danny. When do you want me ready?” you say strongly.

He closes his eyes and recenters, swallowing down his thoughts. “Uh, uhm. F-Friday. Around 8.” He finally cleans up his expression and meets you with a smile again. “Be ready to celebrate.”

—--

DANNY POV

Friday rolls around more quickly than you thought it would. The group had decided to rain-check family dinner this week, planning on celebrating Y/N’s birthday the following weekend when everyone would be in town at the same time.

Your palms had been sweaty all day just at the thought of what tonight would hold, and you realize that you hadn’t been this anxious for a night together with Y/N, yet. The nerves are positively eating you alive, but you shove them down, knowing that you shouldn’t be having them in the first place. She doesn’t feel for you the same way you feel for her, and she likely never will.

It’s heartbreaking and wasteful, really, knowing that your sexual chemistry with her is only put to good use twice a fucking year when it should be being shared with her whenever you wanted to show her how much you really care, but. Here you find yourself.

She’s taking up all the extra space in your mind these days. You feel like you’re floating on air each and every time the vision of her face pops into your mind, you feel like you can feel the blood in your veins rising to a hotter temperature than you’ve ever experienced, and you find yourself wanting to give her all the things she’s ever wanted, and more. Your friend, one of your best friends, you’d say, unknowingly spinning herself into your life in a way that you can’t even tell her about.

That last birthday you shared together, your twenty-fifth, wasn’t the same as the rest before it. Sure, fucking her was high on your list of excellent sexual experiences thus far, but that last time, shit. Had your head spinning for days after. Never had a woman gotten you more fucked up than she did after that night. Two nights, really. That was when you knew it was real. When you wanted to ask her to stay, don’t go… be with me here and don’t ever leave… But your pride got the best of you. So you let her walk out, taking every single last bit of hope you had to make her yours with her as she walked out your bedroom door.

Could she not see it? Did she not notice how horribly you want her, all the time? Surely she doesn’t think you’re just being nice when you do little things for her… offer to change the oil in her car, take her lunch to work, send her every single funny meme and video you have ever come across simply because you know they’ll make her laugh…

Apparently not. But you don’t want to push too hard, too soon, either. If it’s meant to happen, it will. Hell, you hadn’t even told Sam about these feelings you’d been having. No one knows. This is a secret you’d kept bottled up for months now.

You come back inside after a quick trip to the grocery store and gently place the items from your arms onto the island, making sure the champagne bottle doesn’t tip over and break. You stick the bottle into the fridge and remove everything else from the plastic bags before rushing into your bedroom to make sure it’s presentable.

While she was at work, you’d spent the majority of the day cleaning up the general guy-ness of your bedroom, putting on a fresh set of sheets and giving the bathroom a good wipe-down. You’d never cared this much, for what she thinks of your surroundings…

…But you want tonight to be special. You want this birthday to be her favorite one, yet. And you’re determined to do so. You’d placed various candles around the surfaces of your bedroom, trying to make it romantic, but not so much that it will make her think you’re trying too hard.

When you decide that your room is as neat as it’s going to get, you go back into the kitchen and tear into the small cardboard box that’s been hiding away on top of your refrigerator for almost a month now. You’d seen an ad for it while scrolling instagram or something, and you knew right then that you had to get it. Your birthdays spent with her were becoming more and more experimental, and the idea for this year had fallen right into your lap.

You rip the packing tape off the box, letting it fall to the wayside as you open the flaps, finding the perfectly wrapped 2 and 5 candles in all their glittering glory. Shiny, crimson red wax with metallic gold trimming, long wicks and a thickness that regular store-bought candles just don’t have. You smirk as you pull them from the packaging and lay them in front of her small cake- chocolate with white buttercream icing. Her favorite. A glance at the clock on the stove lets you know you have an hour until she gets home, so you scurry off to the shower to get a last-minute scrub before you inevitably hear her coming through the door.

—--

Your stomach nearly falls to the floor when you hear the front door unlatch, and you find her a tired and flustered mess after her long shift. You busy yourself on your laptop, trying your best to seem more involved with what you’re doing than watching her unload her things from her arms onto the table.

“Hey birthday girl,” you mutter without looking back at her. “How was your day?”

You feel her lean all her body weight across the back of the couch beside you. “Long,” she huffs, “but not bad.”

You find the confidence to turn your head to her, finding her resting her head into her palm as she eyes you. You have to reel it all back in as you feel her so closely in your presence again.

“Good,” you reply, keeping it short. “Not too tired to skip our date?”

She hums a sweet laugh. “No. Most definitely not.”

“Are we…leaving the house? I’m trying to decide what to wear…” she asks shyly.

You have to remind yourself that she’s your friend, there’s nothing to be scared of, you do this all the time…

“No, actually. We’re staying home,” you reply.

Home. Your home, with her.

“Eight o’clock?” she reiterates.

“Yep, on the dot,” you tease as she stands to make her way to her end of the house.

She sways down the hallway, tossing her jacket over her shoulder as she disappears into the shadows. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

—---

A few hours later, you’re leaned on the island swirling a lowball glass of tequila, waiting for her to emerge from her bedroom. You’d been standing patiently, fashionably early for your birthday date in the kitchen as you listened to the faint sounds of her music playing as she got ready.

Your nerves are already shot, the tequila doing little to assist in qualming the nervous anxiety swirling through you. So when you finally hear her bedroom door open and her steps coming down the hall, you have to tilt the rest back in hopes that it will hit you a little more quickly.

She’s dressed cute, but comfortable, and you can tell she did her hair that special way that you’d complimented a few weeks ago. She smells like sweet sugary flowers mixed with the woodsy smell of rain, and just her scent as she approached you was already driving you insane.

You meet her in the middle of the kitchen, grabbing her hand to twirl her around into your embrace. “Happy birthday, gorgeous,” you mutter, your face falling into her hair for a second.

Her arms lift around your neck, squeezing just a little as she places the sweetest kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, Danny.” You allow yourself to hold her for just a second, your right hand gripping the wrist of your left at the back of her waist.

“You hungry?” You ask as you pull away from her.

“Yeah, whatcha making?” she replies, taking a seat at the island.

You grab the box of the frozen pizza you’d previously thrown in the oven, displaying it for her.

“Oh my god, my favorite!” she squeals. “I’m so excited.”

You laugh as you fold the box up, cramming it into the trash can. “Knew you would be. It’s not a five-star birthday meal, but. Let’s be honest. I can’t cook for shit, and you love this pizza more than you love a lot of things…”

“No, you’re so right. I’ve actually been craving it for a while,” she giggles.

“Wait, I also gotttttt….” You make your way to the fridge, pulling out the bottle of champagne.

“Shit, pizza and champagne? You know exactly how to make a girl happy, Daniel.” She blushes a little, and you know you’re on the right track for the night.

“You gotta open it, though. It’s bad luck if someone else opens the champagne bottle on your birthday,” you lie, scooting the bottle to her across the countertop.

“You’re crazy. Give it,” she rolls her eyes as she takes the bottle, twisting the key seven times and removing the wire casing. She stands from her chair, gripping the bottle in both hands as she searches for somewhere to aim.

“At the wall! Just not toward a window!” you warn, closing one eye as she begins to push on the cork. Finally it pops off, flying toward the wall as the bubbly pours from the neck of the bottle. “Get it, Y/N, get it!”

She cups her lips over the overflowing bottle, slurping up as much as she can before it flows into the floor. The two of you laugh as you bring two glasses over, letting her pour them up. Just then the timer for the pizza goes off, and the sound of the beeps reminds you that time is ticking, making your nerves rush for the main event.

——-

After stuffing yourselves with pizza and downing the bottle of champagne, the two of you are piled up on the couch sharing a six pack of some crazy peach flavored beer she’d bought last week.

You’re seated on the couch as she reclines across it, her legs in your lap. You’d talked a lot tonight, like more than you maybe ever have before. Sure, you’d been friends for many years now, but majority of the time, you’re surrounded by the other guys always intervening on your conversations, or interrupting your discussions.

But after three hours of deep exchange, you swear you could talk to her until the end of time, and never get tired of it. She looks natural with her bare, sunkissed legs draped across your lap, and your hand that’s mindlessly drifting over her thigh and knee looks like it belongs there.

Her drunken laughter bounces off the walls and right into your chest, making your entire self beam with happiness and adoration for her. The way she takes up space in the home you share gives you an inexplicable feeling. Roommates doesn’t even begin to describe what you want to title your living situation with her.

Your faces are blotched red and tears are falling from your eyes as the two of you come down from a laughing fit, and a sweet recovery silence falls over the both of you. Her eyes are bloodshot from the alcohol, and her face is flushed from the belly laughs.

“You’re really pretty, Danny,” she flits, making you whip your head her way.

“What?” you ask, embarrassed.

“You’re pretty. Well, you’re handsome, of course, but. You’re also pretty,” she explains, her words making you feel shy.

“Oh, thank you, Y/N. Don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before…” you respond. Your hand grips into her thigh a little bit as your head falls back onto the couch cushion. You meet her eyes, the both of you staring at each other while everything else in the room disappears. You hold the gaze for a long while, each passing second making your breathing pick up. Fuck, she makes you nervous.

Finally, she stands, pushing her hair back behind her ear as she reaches for you to take her hand. “Take me to bed, Danny…” she whispers.

Okay.

You slowly stand, keeping her hand in yours as she pulls you into the center of the room. Like magnets, your bodies are pulled into one another, your hands finding both of hers as you turn to walk her backwards down the hall to your room. You move in slow motion as the two of you glide across the wooden floors, taking your sweet, special time.

You take her chin between your fingers, and push her hair back again before leaning down to press your lips to hers. It’s gentle and sweet and slow, her lips parting only just a little bit as you guide her down the long hallway. You allow yourself the indulgence of her lips, the feeling of her tongue gently swiping across yours, the flavor of everything that she is. It’s all perfect, she’s perfect.

Her hands finally find your face and hair, entangling themselves like they always do, pulling you further into her. For this only being the sixth time you’ve done this, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to you. It doesn’t make any sense that you waste your time thinking about it, instead of giving her the loving that she deserves.

But you plan on showing her tonight. You may not be able to tell her, but damned if you can’t try your best to show her.

“Wait, I almost forgot,” you pause as you approach your bedroom door. “I’ll be right back. Stay here,” you command, squeezing her shoulders. “No peeking,” you whisper as you watch her eyelids close.

You’d already strategically placed her cake on the table in your room, with two forks and no plates. But the last finishing touch is the sporadically placed candles. You grab your lighter from your nightstand and light them one by one, watching as the flickering flames cast a warm glow across your walls. Perfect. Lastly, you place the 2 and 5 candles in the center of the cake, but wait to light them.

You slip back out into the hall, finding her still standing with her eyes closed. You grab her hands and pull her to walk toward you. “Keep them closed.”

Her smile lights up your entire world. “What are we doing, Danny? I’m scared…”

“Don’t be scared, babe. S’just me…”

You pull her inside, instructing her to sit down on the bed as you grab the cake and lighter. You balance it in one hand and flick the lighter with the other, lighting the wicks of both the number candles.

“Open your eyes.”

Her eyes flick open, finding the room completely illuminated with orange glow. “Ah, Danny…” she gasps, glancing around the room, and finally to the cake in your hands in front of her.

“Hm hm hmm hm hmmm hmm…” you hum the Happy Birthday song, your voice a bit shaky and jittery with nerves. “Don’t forget to make a wish,” you say, watching as her eyes flick to yours, then back to the cake in your hands. She closes her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, and blowing out the flames of her 25.

“You wanna know what I wished for?” she asks.

You shake your head. “No. But I hope it comes true.”

You set the cake down on your nightstand and you sit back down beside her on your bed. You bring her in close again, letting your forehead balance on hers before you make contact. You swear to it, you could get lost in kissing her more easily than you could get lost in a foreign country. You’d kissed her a hundred times before, but lately…now…

Things move slowly, things move sweetly…normally the two of you waste no time in ripping one another’s clothes off, biting and scratching and devouring each other like you’re starved, but tonight feels like it deserves more attention than that. It deserves to be appreciated.

Your hands drift to the bottom hem of her cream-colored eyelet lace dress, your hand drifting up her thigh. You pull the dress as you go, revealing her thong hugging her hip. Your hand slips below the waistband, and you run your fingers along it and down the front pantyline, the backs of your knuckles skimming across her heat. She whines a little at the contact, and you feel your vision growing blurry.

You continue kissing her while slowly letting your hands explore her in a way you’ve never let them before, taking special care to pay attention to your every move. The kiss becomes more longing when you let a digit slip into her folds, feeling her wetness coating your finger for the first time in six months. Her hands grip onto your shoulders, pulling your upper body into her. You push her back to lay on the bed, never once disconnecting your mouths.

Her left knee is bent into the air while the other one lies flat, so you push it to the side a little as your hand still hides in her panties. Her hand is yanking at the back of your hair as your featherlight touch drifts up and down, finally landing on her sweet spot. She cries quietly into your mouth when you land on it just right, using your middle finger to swirl her wetness across it.

She sits up a little, reaching to your back to pull your cotton t-shirt over your head. You disconnect for just a second to help her, and toss it to the floor. “Mmm there you are,” she mumbles, her hands rushing across the skin of your chest and arms while you go back to work.

You feel her legs spread, giving you the ok to move further. You let your two middle fingers dip inside of her to the hilt, her muscles already tight and twisting around you. “Fuck baby, you’re tight…” you pull away long enough to say. With your words she tightens around you on purpose, clenching herself as you begin pumping your hand in and out of her. You start to wonder if you’re the only one she’s slept with since December. Not that it’s any of your business, but, lately you’d decided that your feelings for her had gathered so heavily in your chest that that six month gap would be worth it, if it meant she could be all yours.

You watch her face in awe, suddenly feeling no ounce of shyness in the least in watching her come undone around your hand. Her bottom lip bites into her mouth as her eyelids flutter open and shut, and the sounds that escape from her lips make you realize how beyond ready for her you are.

You continue pumping your fingers in and out of her, feeling her drip down onto the bed sheets below you. “You wanna let go like this for me, baby?” you ask, having trouble keeping your breaths even.

“No. Yes, but no…” she concedes. “Wanna… want you…”

You smirk. “Go ahead, Y/N, we’ve got all night. You know how we are...” You take the opportunity to twist your fingers inside of her, turning your arm so that your palm is now pressed against her heat instead of perpendicular with it. You lean down and lick a stripe up the side of her neck as you leave your fingers buried deep, stopping the pumping altogether and instead wiggling the tips of your fingers against the spot deep inside her.

“Fuck Danny,” she breathes. “Keep it there keep it there…” Her eyes squeeze shut as you watch her chase her high, her hand squeezing at your pec and gripping onto it with everything she has.

It’s impressive really, how much you’d learned her body after just being with her a handful of times over the course of three years, learning her ins and outs and what drives her crazy for you, and stowing them away at the back of your mind until the next birthday.

You make quick and heady work of brushing your fingers across that spot, pressing your palm against her clit and adding just the right amount of circular pressure in both places. Her legs fall open even further and her head tilts back, all of her muscles tightening as she cries out, giving you her first orgasm of the night. And you had barely even removed any clothing yet.

When she’s done, you gather up her wetness and pull it onto her stomach under her dress, letting your middle finger massage it onto her skin. “Fuck…” she breathes out, wiping the hair from her face. “That didn’t take me long,” she laughs.

“No, it didn’t,” you agree, sitting up on the bed. “Must be excited to see me.”

She sits up and stands from the bed, pulling her flowy cream dress up over her hips and hiking one knee after the other across either side of you. You lean back away from her straddle, resting your arms back on the bed as you get a good look at her, already glowy. She reaches up and clasps her hands behind your neck. “Very excited to see you,” she admits shyly.

“Hm, really? You see me every day,” you poke, trying to feel out her level.

“Yeah but we can’t do this on random Tuesday afternoons, or in front of our friends, now, can we?” she presses, letting her hips fall onto your lap. You reach one finger to her chest and trail it up to under her chin, pulling her into you. Your heart begins pounding as you fall into a ravenous kiss again, this time bringing more heat than you even began to touch on a few minutes ago. Your hands fall to her waist, pulling her down onto you as she moves her knees to sit closer, pressing your chests together. Your hands travel across her thighs and to her waist, then finally around to grip her ass.

Though your tongue is burying itself deeply into her mouth, you’re metaphorically biting it. You want to tell her that yes, you do want to move things in another direction with her, you do want to hold her hand in front of your friends, you do want them to know how crazy you actually are for her. So in an act of boldness, you try.

“Maybe not in this regard, but they probably wouldn’t mind a little PDA…”

She giggles as she wraps her hands in your hair. “PDA? Like flirting with each other? In front of them?”

“Yeah, just like that. They already know we sleep together sometimes, they have to know we, ya know… are allowed to let it flow into days that aren’t our birthdays…” you swallow the words down, feeling so anxious that she may take them the wrong way, or hate them altogether.

“You think they’d make fun of us?” she asks, her mouth kissing behind your ear.

“Oh yeah, they would. But, I’d be there to slap the fuck out of them if they embarrass you,” you respond, squeezing your hands into her hips.

Her tongue is tickling the sensitive skin around your ear as she lays tiny pecks near your hairline. “I think I’d be okay with a little flirting… sometimes it almost happens naturally, anyway,” she says, making your heart rate soar again.

“Really?”

She nods, coming up to face you now, her cheeks tinted the palest pink. “Mmhm, sometimes I have to stop myself from touching you in front of them. You know, just innocently.”

You swallow hard, knowing the exact feeling all too well. When you’re surrounded by your friends making dinner or whatever it may be, you’ve found yourself having to stop your hand from grazing across her lower back as you walk by, from leaning down to kiss her cheek, anything, all the time. She’s right, it does feel natural to want to do that.

“I do, too, actually,” you admit. “You… It feels normal to me. Just a reflex.” You buck your hips up into her as you speak, your body begging you for some contact.

The whimper that leaves her chest ignites that deep carnal instinct inside you, wanting, needing to connect yourself with her again. You gather the soft fabric of her dress in your hands, signaling to her that you want to pull it off. She lifts her arms above her head, allowing you easy access to tear it all the way off of her. As her hair cascades back down over her shoulders you realize that her dress didn’t require a bra. So, you’re left staring at her left only in her thong, her breasts sitting more perfectly than you remember them. “You’re so gorgeous, Y/N, I swear…” you grit, raking over her body with your eyes.

She hops off of your lap, motioning with one finger for you to stand. When you follow her order, she falls to her knees, working her fingers to unbutton your jeans. “Fuck, wait,” you say. Her eyes glance up at you through her eyelashes. “Pull your hair back.”

She does as you say, pulling her hair into a ponytail at her neck while you undo your jeans with one swift movement. She gets done with her hair quickly, swatting your hand away and pulling your zipper down. “Take them all the way off, Danny,” she demands, and the backs of your knees hit the mattress as you lean over, kicking them and your underwear off one leg at a time. You kick them to the side as she walks on her knees closer to you, taking your already over-hard dick in her right hand, licking her lips just a little before she swirls her tongue around the tip. Everything had just happened really fast, her urgency making your blood pump. Her tongue flattened out against you, and she pressed you all the way to the back of her throat, almost making your knees buckle under you.

She grabs your hand, pulling it toward the back of her head. You take the signal and wrap your hand around her hair just as her lips meet your base, and you hold her there, feeling the saliva already beginning to pool in her mouth. “God damnit, baby, fuck you’re so good at this. Don’t even need my help…” You loosen your grip and allow her to drag her lips across your shaft, adding hard suction as she slowly ascends off.

“Want your help, though. Do it…” she motions, so you do. You use her ponytail to guide her up and down you, forcefully pushing and pulling on her head just like she likes it. The first time you did this, you were a bit thrown off, as you’ve always just let whoever was pleasing you do whatever they felt. But she likes it when you tell her when and where you want her to be.

The candles are physically heating up the air in the room, providing a heat that feels like a heavy blanket on your skin. Your mind flashes with remembering the special candles, and you feel a spark of excited electricity shoot through your body. The baby hairs around her face are beginning to stick to her forehead as her eyes glance up to look at you, doelike and pleading.

She hums onto your dick as you squeeze her cheeks together, taking a hard hold on her jawline as your opposite hand guides her motions. Your head falls back as you feel the knot tightening in your stomach, but you can’t let go just yet. Her tongue swirls around your tip and the sounds that her mouth is making sound downright ruthless, spurring on your albeit degraded current situation.

She moans onto you as her lips pull on and off, all by the force of your hand. You pull her hair particularly roughly, watching as the string of saliva connects her mouth to you, still. You take the second to sit down on the bed, physically unable to stand for another second without losing all will to hold yourself up. She moves in closer and digs her nails into the soft skin between your legs, sending a shake through your body. “Mother fucker baby, keep going with that…” you say, biting your bottom lip as you watch her. She scratches at your skin a few more times before you finally decide you can’t take it anymore, pulling and pushing on her head at a quicker pace.

“Mhmm…” she moans as she nods her head ‘yes’, and you feel the deep rumble in your stomach, telling you that you’re not far. She kisses her lips down tightly on you this time, flicking her tongue in all the right places as you feel her throat tightening around you.

“So fuckin’ deep baby, shit…” you say as your hips jut forward a few times, your dick hitting the back of her throat. Suddenly you feel your world falling apart as you let go into her, the dim orange light of the room turning into flashes of black and white as you send your streams down her throat. You wrap her hair around your hand as you hold her just where you want her, pulling her closely into you as you hiss through your release.

When you finally take a breath and your vision unblurs, you watch as she wipes her chin with the back of her hand, standing to her feet again and joining you on the bed, a completely smug and satisfied look on her face.

“The fuck are you grinning about, huh?” you ask, pulling her in toward you again.

“Nothin’, I just really love being the one to make you make noises like that,” she says, biting back another smile.

“Well, you’ve got me figured out, seriously,” you compliment her, and it was the absolute truth.

She shrugs you off. “Eh, I’m out of practice, really.”

Oh?

“No way, you’re like… well seasoned,” you kid.

“You dick!” she yells, stifling a laugh. “I haven’t even done that in six months.” You can tell she regretted saying it as soon as she did, suddenly avoiding your eyes and pulling one of your pillows up to cover her chest.

“...You’re kidding,” you breathe, truly in disbelief.

She shakes her head. “Lame, huh?”

“N-no, not lame. I–You haven’t, since…?” you stammer.

“Nope. Since your birthday. Go ahead, laugh at me all you want,” she says, motioning with her hand.

Her words hit you right in the gut. She hadn’t been with anyone since you…

“I’m not gonna laugh at you, Y/N. I… I actually haven’t been with anyone else, either.”

Her eyes meet yours in disbelief. “Really?”

You nod. “Not this time around.”

She sits for just a second, hugging the pillow to her. “Why not?”

You shrug, the nerves bubbling in your stomach. “I dunno, no one’s really…struck my interest. Not enough to bring back home, anyway.”

She pulls one shoulder up toward her ear. “Yeah, mine neither. I’ve…tried, ya know, but.” She swallows. “My birthday is my favorite holiday for a reason.”

You can’t stop the joy that rises in your chest, your extremities tingling and your heart beating in your ears as she basically admits she doesn’t enjoy anyone but you. She hasn’t made it work with anyone else in six months.

“Six months is a long time to wait, Y/N,” you mutter quietly.

She pulls the pillow down, moving closer to you on the bed. “Not when what you’re waiting for is all you can ever think about.”

Fuck… it feels like your head is going to float right off of your shoulders out of a pure high at her admission. Your chest gets warm and your mouth goes dry, and you swear if you were looking in the mirror, there would be stars in your eyes.

She feels the same.

After a few seconds of disbelief, you find the nerve to answer her, a hardly audible whisper as you bring your face close to hers. “I think I’d wait for you for fifty years, if you wanted me to…”

Her hand cups your jawline as she grits her teeth, pulling you into her again. Your mouth wants to devour her all over again, but instead you take note of the tender moment, laying a sweet kiss to her lips that has a promise behind it.

Her eyebrows furrow together when you pull away, a look you’re familiar with but also one that told you she’s confused. She opens her mouth to speak, probably to ask you if what you’d just said is true. But nothing comes out. She just stares at you in disbelief.

Your hand finds her hip as you yank her body in with a little force, almost nose to nose now.

“Yeah, you heard me right. I’d wait for you, I will wait for you, if that’s what you want me to do…” you say, feeling so anxious for the outcome of this conversation you could almost be sick. It’s either going to end really really well, or so badly that you’d end up alone in bed tonight. But the risk outweighs the outcome, and you are ready and prepared to take it, whatever it might be.

She swallows hard as you watch her eyes become glazed. Her hands are balancing around your neck and across your shoulders, and you can feel the heat rising in her palms as her digits nervously fidget. It feels like a hundred years pass in the time you wait for her to respond, and you contemplate taking it all back. Making up an excuse, saying just kidding, we’re just friends… But the panic stops as soon as she finds her words.

She shakes her head. “Wait for me… you’d, you wanna actually…?”

“Be with you more than just twice a year? Yeah, Y/N, I really would. You– you kinda have held a really special place for a long, long time now.” You swallow again, letting the words you’ve kept pent up for so long finally flow, but still feeling a little embarrassed by the admission. “I just never said anything, ya know, because of our arrangement. It worked so well for us but. I… I don’t know. It feels like more to me, lately.”

She nods hard again, a tiny smile crossing her lips as her eyes stay trained on yours. But she stays quiet.

“Can you say something, Y/N?” you ask through a huffed laugh.

“It is more, Danny. It’s been more to me for a long time, too. You take up more space in my mind than I’d like to admit,” she says, now avoiding eye contact.

Wow… finally. Finally, there it is.

“Why do we both deny it?” you whisper.

She shrugs, massaging the back of your neck. “I don’t know. But I don’t really want to anymore.”

You wrap your arm around her torso, pulling her weight from underneath her as you lay her flat on her back.

“Then we don’t,” you say as you tower over her, the candle light flickering in her eyes and off of her skin. Her body is beautiful, there’s no denying that, but what has always gotten you is how she carries herself…how her body language is always reflective of exactly what she’s feeling in the moment. And right now, as her midsection arches up into you begging you to touch her again, you have no other thoughts than to appease her.

Your mouth travels down her chest and across her belly, leaving long, lingering kisses across her body. As you get closer and closer to her heat, you move to kneel on the floor just as she had for you earlier, slipping your hands underneath her to pull her to the edge. Even in all your wild, drunken sexual adventures with her, for some reason, you’d never concentrated on this. You’d never gone down on her. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, as it was one of your favorite activities, but the immediate pull to one another on these nights always ended up with getting straight to the good part. Neither of you really ever left time for the embellishments.

She perks up onto her elbows as she gazes at your face between her legs. “Danny…”

“Let me show you what I mean, baby,” you more ask than say, running your tongue down the inside of her thigh. Her body stiffens as she still gives you that look of hesitation. Your tongue drifts over her opening as you tease her, barely ghosting overtop of everywhere but her sweet spot. She shudders again. “Unless you don’t want me to…”

“No! No I want you to. Please. You’ve just…” she finally relaxes her head back down.

“I know I haven’t. And that’s on me. But I wanna show you that I’ve been thinking about this, doing just this since the last time I had you…” you explain, finally delving your tongue deeply into her. Her reaction is immediate, her back arching up again as her hands find your hair. The sounds she makes make you strain to keep it together, and the taste of her finally on your tongue is enough to make you want to stop altogether, and get to the good part, but you savor this instead, realizing you’ve wanted her like this for so long.

You squeeze your lips over her, inching your tongue languidly inside of her and moving it back up to circle her clit. When you finally find it, she squeals, exhaling as her hands rip into your scalp. You glance to the head of the bed, pulling down a pillow and positioning it underneath her back to get a better angle. Your hands snake under her again, squeezing her ass as you pull her in.

“Fuck Danny, why did you hold back on this for so long?” she asks through a pant, her legs opening and closing over your ears. “Shit…” You realize that you don’t really have an answer.

She’s writhing and fighting herself, and you can tell she’s nearing the peak, until she backs off again, likely wanting to make this last. She hums and purrs as you work over her clit, using your tongue and lips to kiss every single drenched inch of her. You feel like you can’t get enough, until you remember. Her birthday gift.

You slow things down, pulling away a bit until you see the disgruntled look on her face at the disconnect. “No, don’t stop… don’t go..” she begs. Her expression is desperate, and you want nothing more than to feel her lose herself at the mercy of your mouth. So you dive back in, this time with a purpose.

“‘M not goin’ anywhere, baby,” you manage through kneads of your tongue against her. You bring your arm up between the two of you, using your elbow and hand to press her legs apart while your free hand’s two middle digits enter her again. Your tongue never lets up, circling and swirling furiously as her muscles tense. You take that as your cue to work harder, feeling her clenching around your hand already. You pump in and out of her again, making sure your tongue is pointed exactly where she needs it.

“Fuck, Danny baby… yes…” she breathes, and the pet name sends a shockwave straight to your dick, hearing her utter your name followed by a word so personal. You cup your lips over her clit, using a quick and harsh suction motion as you flick your tongue across it.

When she finally lets go, her cries and slurs of curses echo through your room, the most beautiful sound you’re sure you’ve ever heard. Her hands stay tangled in your locks, forcing your face into her as close as you can get. You savor it all, the sight, the sound, the taste… you wonder why you ever denied yourselves this piece of the puzzle after all this time, but then again, maybe saving something this intimate for right now is exactly what was supposed to happen.

Her body jolts and shakes as she lets the pleasure wrack through her, and you devour every last bit. You crawl up her once she opens her eyes again, her hand freeing from your hair and back down to your face, pulling across your cheeks and mouth as she wipes her wetness from you. Her voice is strained as she finally speaks. “Fuck that was…”

“Fucking delicious,” you finish, pressing your lips to hers again, making her nod into you.

“Yeah, fucking delicious,” she agrees, wrapping her legs around you and using the leverage to pull you onto her. If you weren’t rock hard before, you surely are now after witnessing her falling apart for you like that. You can tell she’s already ready to get things going again, but you stop her, pulling away like you had done before. You stand from the bed, watching that same look of disappointment come across her features.

“Don’t look at me like that, just wanna give you your birthday gift,” you say, walking around the bed to your nightstand. You grab the cake and place it carefully into your lap, grabbing the lighter again as she comes and sits beside you.

“I already blew out my candles, Danny,” she says, balancing her chin on your shoulder.

“You did, but I didn’t tell you that these are special candles. Not meant to be blown out,” you explain, flicking the lighter to life and igniting them both.

“Not meant to be blown out? Why–”

“Because they’re really an oil,” you say, putting the lighter down and grabbing the plastic tray under the cake again, holding it up between you. “These are candles specially made for us to let melt and drip onto each other. Not like regular wax, these don’t burn as hot. Once they start to melt a little, they turn into a body oil.”

“Like a massage oil?” she asks, and you nod.

“Mmhm, see, you can already smell the lavender and bergamot. They had birthday cake scented, but. I thought that might be overkill,” you smirk. Her eyes drift down to the candles with intrigue, and she bites her bottom lip in. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But, I’ve heard good things…”

She picks up one of the candles from the cake, carefully licking the icing off the bottom. She holds her opposite hand out palm down, and lets the melty wax oil drip down onto the back of her hand, a few droplets of dark red liquid dripping down between her fingers.

“Doesn’t burn at all,” she says, reaching to grab the cake from you to set on the table again. She then takes your hand, letting the wax drip down onto your hand, too.

The sensation is more of an extremely warm electrical pulse than the burn you’d expect, and it quickly dulls as the oil cools. It doesn’t harden like normal wax, instead it just turns into a thick oil. You take your other finger and rub it across your skin, feeling the softness of the lotion-like liquid sink into your skin. “Wow, no, it feels good,” you agree.

“Lay back,” you suggest, and she does, handing the candle off to you.

You question the situation, not knowing exactly where to drip the oil to make her feel the best. You assume maybe her chest and stomach, maybe even down her legs, if she feels up to it. You hold the candle directly above her sternum, raising your eyebrows in final question before you let it drip.

“Yeah, go ahead,” she says, her hand landing on your knee.

The red liquid finally falls through the air, a singular drop that lands and splatters across her chest. Her mouth opens just a little, but then her surprise quickly turns into a devious smirk. “Feel good?” you ask.

“Aha, yeah, actually. It burns pretty bad for a split second but it goes away…shit, do more,” she pleads.

You go along with her request, drizzling tiny drops between her breasts and down her stomach, nearly completely coating her in the oily liquid.

“You sure you like it?” you ask as you watch her face repeatedly turn from a surprised grimace into a devilish look of satisfaction. Thankfully, that second look, you’re more than familiar with.

“Yessss…” she hisses as another drop falls onto her skin. “I feel so…” her mouth lies open as you continue letting the oil drip and pool, the floral scent filling your nostrils.

“So what?” you ask.

Her eyes bore into yours as she bites her lips between her teeth, her hand still gripping hard into your leg muscle. “I like the pain. It’s like… I don’t know how to explain it…” she breathes. “Like a sensation I don’t want to ever end.”

You take your free hand and gently massage it in, taking time to work over her nipples and stomach. “God, that feels so good…” she whispers, her hand now digging into the muscle of your thigh. You place the candle back on the cake, turning to pay special attention to rubbing your hands over her muscles.

The heady scent of the oils mixed with the residual alcohol still flowing through your system brings a whole new dizziness to the atmosphere, and you feel as though the whole situation is only becoming heavier. You reach over to your phone sitting on the night stand, and flip your music to some psychedelic playlist. The distorted guitar and scratchy bass sounds bring you both to a new plane, and you take the moment to recognize the woman you have your hands on, and how she feels underneath them.

Her eyes flutter open and closed as your hands drift, massaging the soft oils across the mountains and valleys of her body. “You want me to do you?” she asks, eyes flicking back to the candle.

You shake your head. “No, shh. It’s your birthday, just relax.”

She smiles a little as she gets comfortable again, moving her body a little closer to yours on the bed. Your hands travel up her shoulders and neck, slowly kneading the tense muscles. Then you move on to her hips and waist, squeezing at the thickness of her. You feel yourself getting turned on all over again just by touching her this way. You watch as her hands drift across the tops of her legs, gripping at her own thighs. The visual is almost too much, watching as her fingertips pull at her skin. You reach to grab the still-lit candle, adjusting your body to sit beside her legs.

“‘M gonna try your legs, that okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, go ahead…” she mumbles, her eyes still rolling around behind her eyelids. You move between her legs and let the wax drip onto her inner thighs, not really caring if any lands on your comforter. “Ffff…” she hisses, biting onto her bottom lip. Her face contorts from pain to pleasure as the oil cools, and you replace the candle, making your way back to massaging her.

Your hands nearly cover the entirety of her upper thighs, your fingertips digging into the skin just as hers had done a second ago. You push the oil all around, paying special attention to start at her knees, and slowly work your way up. You have half a mind to lick into her again, seeing it now from this view, but you stop yourself. Your thumbs rub into the creases where her legs meet her heat, and she practically moans out at your touch.

“You’re being such a fuckin’ tease, Daniel,” she says, her hands cupping her breasts.

“Mmm, I don’t think you understand how hard it is to stop myself right now…” you huff.

She bites her lips again and shakes her head side to side, obviously feeling the same emotions as you. This doesn’t feel like it normally does, and you feel more anxiety than ever to satisfy her. You watch as she reaches her hands for you, signaling for you to get things going.

“Don’t stop yourself then,” she stutters, her voice almost shuddering. Her hand grips into your hair again and pulls you up, your hands crawling up either side of her as her nails claw and pull at your back.

Suddenly your mind finds itself again as you remember to grab protection. You balance your forehead on her sternum, both of you already panting and sweaty as you pull yourself away to reach for your bedside drawer.

“No, just—it’s fine,” she says, grabbing onto your arm.

You meet her with a puzzled look, not quite understanding that she’s changing her mind on a whim. This is one part of your agreement that you both have always stuck to.

“What? I’m—“

“Just…it’s fine. Don’t get it,” she says, giving you a look that could kill. “It’s been six months…right…”

You think it over, rolling the thought over and over in your mind. “You sure?”

She nods, “Yeah, yeah I’m sure. I’m…we’re good. I promise.”

You feel your heart growing in your chest, feeling a new wave of anxiousness and…something else bubbling up. It’s almost blinding you to even think about what’s about to take place, this already feels so different than before.

The slick of the oil across your chests make your bodies slide against one another as you line yourself up, both hands on either side of her head. Her hands gently drift across your hips, a devilish smirk sneaking across her lips.

“Gonna feel you for real for the first time…” she says gently, looking more excited than you’d seen her in ages.

“Yeah, no pressure,” you answer, pressing yourself through her folds. The sensation alone is making you quake, feeling her against you without a barrier.

“What, you nervous or something?” She asks, digging her nails into your scalp.

You clench your jaw, feeling the tip enter her just a little bit. “Kinda.”

“Daniel…shut up. No you’re not.”

“I swear,” you reply, pressing in just a little more. “Different now, like this.” You feel your heart beating from your ribcage.

Her hands grip behind you, pulling you in towards her, but you hold back. “S’okay, just me… please…” Her legs lift and her ankles cross at your lower back.

You push forward, telling yourself it’s okay to fill her all the way to the hilt. It’s now or never, and you’ve waited so long for this, wanted her for real for so long. You make sure to watch her face as you bottom out, taking in every single detail that you can.

HER POV

It’s almost dreamlike…

The dim and comforting glow of the room, the sweet scented oil that’s relaxed your muscles, the dying feeling of excitement from the gift Danny had gotten you…

But mostly, the feeling of his body towering over you and buried as deeply as he can get, finally without the use of protection.

You’d been wanting Danny for real for longer than you’d like to admit, now, and now that it’s finally happening, it’s almost as if you couldn’t have dreamt it up any better. Of course he feels nervous…you do too. Something in the air has shifted, and it’s not just because you both had finally admitted to wanting more than your predisposed agreement.

“Fuck, Danny…” you can’t help but yelp in a pitiful high-pitched squeal. Feels just like you always thought, but somehow better.

Much, much better.

He begins to pick up a pace after you lock your ankles against him harder, forcing his hips to find a rhythm. “You good?” he asks, almost shyly.

“Yeah, better than good, shit…”

His left hand grips your jaw with a little force before he brings his lips to yours in a heated mess. His thrusts are working in perfect time, hitting you in just the right spot to tighten the knot deep inside you already.

“You feel so perfect baby…god, never thought I’d have you like this…” his lips are hot against your skin as he speaks, his teeth nipping at your sensitive spots every few seconds.

“Leave a mark, baby… gimmie a reminder…” you breathe into his ear, making the light nips on your chest switch into slightly painful lovebites that you’re positive you’ll be able to see turn into bright red marks tomorrow. He growls into your skin as his teeth sink in just enough to make you squirm beneath him.

Though the room is flickering with a tangerine glow, the multicolored vibrance of the light flashing behind your eyes brings a whole new depth to what you’re experiencing, an overwhelming feeling of unwarranted pleasure that is undoubtedly ripping you apart at the seams. He’s all you’ve ever wanted, better than anything you’ve ever felt, and he’s been living under the same roof as your best friend for way too long.

You can tell he’s getting closer by the tumbling of his thrusts, but you swear you never want it to end. The euphoria taking over your mind is making you dizzy.

Suddenly he slows down a little bit, rolling himself to the bed but keeping himself inside as he plucks you to straddle his lap. Your hands find his pecs as you begin swirling your hips, feeling him at a completely different angle, now. His curls are laid out behind him on the white blankets, and his chest is gleaming from the oils.

You begin bouncing on him, his hands gripping into the thick muscle of your thighs as you grind on him. His head leans back, his jaw moving between hanging open and clenching tightly. “Y/N, shit…I’m not gonna be…”

You can feel the twist in your stomach, the deep tightening letting you know that you are close, too. You lean down and press a slow and needing kiss to his lips, showing him all the emotion that’s currently coursing through your body in the act. “Me too baby, just do it. Want to feel you…” you stammer through the ravaging feeling of your impending orgasm. You squeeze him hard, sending you both over the edge, tumbling down together in a flustered mess of echoed praises for one another.

He stays buried inside you for just a few seconds as you both come down, neither of you wanting to be the first to speak when you finally catch your breath. After a minute of silence, you let yourself come out of the cloudy bliss, sliding yourself up and off of him.

As soon as your body hits the bed beside him, he’s craning over you again, gathering you up into his arms into the most loving embrace you’d felt from him yet.

“Every six months isn’t gonna work for me anymore, Y/N…” he admits, fully submitting himself with an honest look in his eye. “I just…”

“Me neither, Danny. It’s not enough. Won’t ever be enough,” you admit, taking his face in your hands. And it was true, after experiencing him tonight in the way that you did, there was no way you’d ever be able to wait for him again. There’s too much emotion involved that you’ve both been hiding for too long. Too much still yet to explore.

“Stay, please? And not just for tonight,” he whispers, his thumb gliding across your cheek.

You nod. You know there’s nothing on this earth you want more than to wake up every day next to him…the friend who has always been just a little bit more.

“Okay,” you concede, sliding your body into his.

“Okay? Yeah?” He asks with an excited lilt.

“Yes. I’m not going anywhere,” you respond. “Couldn’t leave you if I wanted to...”

The low chuckle that rumbles through his chest and onto your cheek pressed against it feels so longingly familiar that you wonder why you ever thought it wouldn’t work out to begin with. “What took you so long?” he asks, wrapping and squeezing you hard.

“Could ask you the same…” you laugh into his chest.

You fall asleep with him that night a different woman than the one you were when you walked into his room, and not just because you’re a year older, now. You’d finally gotten everything you’d ever wanted.

Danny nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, sleep already lacing his voice. A soft feeling of comfort washes over you as you realize how safe and protected you feel in his arms, and how you aren’t too shy to admit that this feels more right than you could have ever anticipated.

Now you won’t have to wait six months to share your love with him again. You’ll be able to share it with him tomorrow, over coffee in the kitchen.

He presses a sweet kiss to your temple as you let the heaviness of sleep overtake you, already falling into a dazed place of complete contentment.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

Taglist:

@wetkleenex-gvf @britney-gvf @gretas-sweat @josh-iamyour-mama @highway-tuna @bestfriendsallstrungout @jjwasneverhere @gretavanbrie @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @myleftsock @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @jjsooobsessed @ageofcj @starcatcher-jake @capnjaket @cozyjakey @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @stardustjake @dancingcarbon @builtbybrokenbells @gretavangroupie

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the-kaedageist · 1 day

Text

It is years before her hard work pays off. The time is worth it.

She’s done her homework well. She figures out the best time to approach, when her son will feel least threatened. Not when he’s alone. Preferably when he’s in a public place, providing as much safety to him as to her. After five years, the last thing she wants to do is spook him badly enough that she has to track him down again.

She has lived over a millennium. That doesn’t stop her from pausing outside the crowded tavern in Ank’harel, shrouded in the image of a high elf, her heart echoing in her ears. A millennium of life has been nothing without taking risks – but it has been centuries since she’s risked her heart.

She takes a final breath and ducks inside.

The tavern is loud. A band in the corner plays a Taldorian jig, which she recognizes from her three months spent negotiating a trade agreement in Whitestone. Raucous chanting rings from the opposite corner, where a halfling woman and a purple-skinned tiefling are chugging from enormous mugs. She’s so appalled by the drinking competition that it takes her several seconds to turn her attention back in that direction, realizing that they’re exactly the group she’s looking for.

“HA!” shouts the halfling, audible even over the band as she slams down the ceramic drinking mug; it’s a miracle it doesn’t shatter on impact. “Suck it, Kingsley!”

The tiefling lowers his mug half a second later, groaning. “You’re cheating.”

She takes a moment to survey the rest of the group. There are nine of them in total, gathered around a long rectangular table running along the length of the side wall.

Next to the tiefling, a dark-skinned human woman in blue waves a similar mug, shouting, “it’s my turn next! Bring it on!” A larger woman with striking hair is staring at this next challenger with clear fondness as she sips from a clear glass. On the other side of the table, a tall pink firbolg and half-orc are deep in conversation, ignoring their companions. A blue-skinned tiefling woman braids the firbolg’s hair and cheers at the drinkers.

On the halfling’s other side, a redheaded human man is tapping his fingertips to the music. He leans against the man she seeks.

She takes a moment to study her son. He’s completely undisguised, his hair a tad longer but just as carefully styled as she remembers, his ears dangling with silver jewelry. From her surveillance, she knows he ordinarily operates in disguise; he clearly has decided to forgo caution here, on another continent surrounded by his friends.

She expects him to look uncomfortable or displeased at the antics of the group – but he is laughing, leaning his forehead into the redheaded human’s shoulder, a flash of fang revealed in his open joy.

In over one hundred and twenty years, she’s never seen him smile like that. It is startling, unbalancing; had she ever truly known him?

Read the rest on AO3 (4,793 words)

#critical role #essek thelyss #deirta thelyss #caleb widogast #the mighty nein #mighty nein #shadowgast #campaign 2 #cr fic #critrole #critical role fanfiction #outsider pov #my fics #this has been sitting on my computer since NOVEMBER #please enjoy

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wihellib · 1 day

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This is inspired by @/luceafarul-de-dimineata’s post about lacking motivation to play WHB.

The issues that this game has had since launch and it’s slow content release schedule really highlights that PrettyBusy is a very small game developer that has never made a gacha game before. They seemingly did hardly any research on how to make a successful gacha game.

With gacha games you need to release a lot of content in the first year to keep people’s attention and engagement. You need to give people constant reasons to come back to the game, so it cements a place in their life.

It was smart for them to have 4 chapters available right at launch. Front-load a lot of content to keep people entertained while they work on more content. The problem was (and still is but not quite as much) all the bugs and glitches with the game. So they had to use the time to try and fix those instead of working on continuing the story.

PrettyBusy should be releasing new chapters every two months. Their main story chapters are not long enough to justify needing any more time than that to complete new chapters.

They should also release a new event each month. Have a schedule of two weeks on, two weeks off for events. But skip adding a new event when a new chapter releases (so a month between events instead of 2 weeks).

PrettyBusy needs to be more open and communicative with the fans about where they currently are in their process. They had said they would implement a friend system and update the pancake shop by April and obviously that didn’t happen. The most egregious is them saying they’ll release new main story chapters every three months, but it has already been longer than that since the last one released. Again, they should not need that long for new chapters, they’re story chapters are not complex enough for that.

They should be updating the fans on their social media about when updates are going to happen and why they are late. You can’t promise to deliver something by a certain date, not deliver it, and then ignore that you said that. As a game developer, you can’t do that. You’ll alienate your fans.

I really really love the concept of this game despite the many many issues I have with the game itself. I do find myself wishing that a more experienced game developer had created the game. I think many of the issues have to do with PrettyBusy’s inexperience and the fact that they’re constantly trying to play catch-up because of the game’s disastrous launch. I hope that they’re able to fix their issues and speed up the release schedule and communicate better with fans, otherwise I can’t see the game lasting long, which would be unfortunate.

#what in hell is bad #whb #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in “hell” is bad?#prettybusy what in hell is bad #prettybusy

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writingonleaves · 6 hours

Text

don't wanna scrape you off the pavement (i can't be your savior) - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character (reckless driving au)

warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, hopeful ending (bc its me), possibly inaccurate dynamics of the 2020 - 2024 umich hockey squads but i tried, some biphobia (not from any main characters), an awful lot of talking about michigan for someone who’s never been there (the college or the state)

inspired by + title: "reckless driving" by lizzy mcalpine and ben kessler

word count: 23.7k

author's note: after about 7 months in the making, it’s Finally here lol. this piece means a lot to me, and not only because it took so long. a labor of love, if you will. i'm very proud of it, so i sincerely hope you all enjoy it as much as i loved writing it! please do let me know your thoughts <3 takes place the summer of 2024

~*~*~

day one - amelie

Amelie Fishel has a love-hate relationship with the state of Michigan.

She loves it enough that she stayed in the state she was born and raised in for college. But even she knew she would’ve been an idiot if she denied the offer four years ago when University of Michigan offered her an academic scholarship that ended up covering her full tuition. She enjoyed her time at college enough, making a smattering of friends that she really does want to keep in contact with for the rest of her life and developing a solid foundation academically with various experiences that will hopefully help her out for the future.

It’s a dream job because it falls in line with what she enjoys doing. But it’s also a dream job because it’s taking her the fuck out of this state. That’s the only request she’s had when trying to close in on an offer — it can be in any state except for Michigan.

But despite her feeling that she’s outgrown this state, she’s sticking around for one more summer. One more summer of no internships or responsibilities before she has to be a working adult for the rest of her life. A few more months to enjoy the few perks this state does have before getting to leave.

Currently, she’s sitting in the backyard of her grandparents’ new lakehouse. It’s admittedly beautiful and in a wonderful location that offers the tranquility that they’ve been searching for. The lake in their backyard glistens under the sun and the sunsets are stunning.

It’s a hot day in mid-July and she spent her first full day catching up with her grandparents in the backyard. After she had graduated, she splurged on a trip to Europe with some friends that definitely made a dent in her bank account. When she voiced getting a job for the summer, her parents and grandparents immediately said no. Enjoy the summer, they said.

After dinner, when the sun’s rays are barely peeking out, she volunteers to walk Susie, her grandparents’ golden retriever that is far too energetic for Amelie’s liking. Amelie grabs the leash, beckons Susie over, and they’re on their way to a walk around the neighborhood.

She forgoes her Airpods for whatever reason and shoves both her hands in her sweatshirt, walking leisurely behind Susie. She’s so lost in her own head that she almost misses the sound of her own name.

“Amelie?”

She blinks, stopping at the end of someone’s driveway. Susie trots happily to the guy who’s holding his hand out to pet her. “Luke?”

“Yeah,” Luke clears his throat and bends down slightly to pet Susie, who is loving the attention. “Hey buddy. What’s your name?”

“This is Susie.”

Luke chuckles as Susie’s tail wags crazily. “Hey girly. What a cutie.”

Amelie gently tugs the leash. “Easy, Suz. We don’t wanna kill him.”

She watches for a few seconds as Luke keeps petting her. Yankees hat atop his head and wearing a white t-shirt and swim trunks, it’s been over a year since Amelie’s seen Luke Hughes. The last time she saw him was after the devastating loss against Quinnipiac at the Frozen Four. He had jetted out to Boston that night, but not without giving Amelie an unexpected but genuine hug goodbye.

As a photographer for the Michigan Athletic Department during her entire college career, she became at friendly with many athletes, especially the guys on the men’s hockey team, since her boss put her on assignment with them a good amount. But she hadn’t expected Luke to remember her or recognize her.

“You live around here?” Luke asks, standing back up as Susie calms down.

“My grandparents just bought a place a few houses down and I just got here. You live here?”

“Kinda,” he gestures to the house behind him. “My brothers bought this place a few years back.”

“Small world,” she remarks.

He nods with a small smile. “It sure is.”

“Who’s your friend, Moose?”

She turns her head to the open garage to see a shorter, tanner version of Luke. This guy is wearing a black t-shirt with sweatpants, his hair less curlier than Luke’s. He must be one of his brothers, and even if Luke didn’t just tell her it was his brothers’ place, she would’ve put it together. They both have the same half-smile.

He’s also beautiful. Almost annoyingly so.

(If her sisters were here, they’d immediately point out that Jack is exactly her type. Well, Charlotte would point out that he smiles similarly to Cooper and Colette would immediately scold Charlotte.)

The guy walks over and Susie gets excited at a new presence. He also bends down to pet her. “This is Amelie,” Luke says. “She photographed a lot of the games back at Michigan.” He turns back to Amelie. “Did you just graduate? Or do you have one year left?”

“I just graduated.”

“Congratulations,” the guy stands up and sticks out his hand. “I’m Jack. Luke’s brother. Well, one of them.”

She shakes his hand with a polite smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack. And thank you.”

“You said you’re gonna be here for the summer?” Luke asks.

“Most of it, yeah.”

“Where do you live?” Jack asks.

“My grandparents are a few houses down. 118.”

Jack perks up. “Stanley and Ruth are your grandparents?”

“Yeah,” she narrows her eyes. “How do you know them?”

“They ran into our parents golfing last week. And I’ve waved at them a few times driving down the street.”

“That sounds about right,” she chuckles. “They love their golf and they love sitting on the front porch.”

Luke straightens up, and with Amelie’s previous interactions with him, that means that he’s about to suggest either a great or horrendous idea. “You should come over for dinner this week. You and your grandparents. Our parents are still here for a few days and we’re going a bit stir-crazy with each other, I think.”

So it’s a horrendous idea this time. She immediately tries to deny the offer politely. “Oh no, that’s okay. I wouldn’t wanna intrude your-”

“We’d love to have you. And your grandparents,” Jack says with an air of finality. “And I know our parents would say the same. They’re sick of also just having us around.”

“I still have your number from when you used to send me pictures after games,” Luke says. “I’ll text you details and we’ll find a time that works?”

“Okay,” she says after a few seconds. As if Susie understands, she barks.

Jack gives her one last pet with a grin. “This floofer’s welcome as well.”

After one last smile, she and Susie are on their way as the brothers head back into the house. Once they’re out of earshot, she sighs.

She has no idea how she feels about this.

day three - jack

Jack Hughes is convinced he’s going insane.

Well, that’s not exactly true. He’s perfectly fine, great, even. Recovery is going well. He’s back with his family in one of his favorite places in the world. Even in July, the season still seems so far away. Some days he itches to get back to The Rock in front of the fans. But most of the time, he’s enjoying his off-season rehab and training, being on the water and being on the golf course.

But Amelie – which first of all, an incredibly beautiful name — and her just as beautiful dog Susie have been at the back of his mind for two days straight now. That’s weird. Jack doesn’t usually think about girls like this, especially girls he’s barely met.

All he’s gotten from Luke so far is that she’s a year older than him, which makes her a year younger than Jack, she photographed a bunch of the Michigan games during Luke’s two years there and she’s a bit quieter than some of the social media team’s counterparts Luke knows she worked with.

And she’s so, so cute. But Luke didn’t tell him that one.

A few hours before she’s supposed to come over with her grandparents, Jack’s lounging on the boat, as Quinn, who’s in the driver's seat, and Luke are talking about…something. But he’s deeply focused on his phone, trying to do what every Gen Z person does when they see someone cute. Find their Instagram. The fact that he’s held off for over 48 hours is already impressive.

He finds it relatively easily, as some of Luke’s former teammates who Jack follows follow her, and Amelie isn’t a common name. She’s private, but linked in her bio is her photography account, which is public. While there’s no pictures of her on there, it proves to him that she’s an insanely good photographer. Not just hockey, either. There are some beautiful shots of divers, gymnasts, soccer players, etc. You name the sport, it seems like Amelie’s photographed it.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Quinn asks.

Jack quickly locks his phone. “Nothing.”

Luke, like the pest he is, narrows his eyes. “Sure.”

“Don’t make me push you into the water, Moose.”

An empty threat, Jack knows, but he starts leaning forward and Luke yelps. “Quinn!”

Quinn rolls his eyes, “You’re both annoying. We gotta head back though. I wanna shower before dinner.”

Dinner. Right. Amelie. Coming into him and Quinn’s home. Great.

Something must change on his face, because a shit-eating grin grows on Luke’s face. “Oh. That’s what this is about.”

“What?” Jack feigns cluelessness.

“Amelie’s pretty, isn’t she?” Luke says. Jack just shoves him and Quinn chuckles, catching up.

“If you think she’s pretty, why didn’t you make your move first?” Jack retorts back. “You had two years.”

Luke shrugs. “Just because she’s pretty doesn’t mean I’m interested. She’s cool though. Way too cool for you.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Luke rolls his eyes, “For once, no.”

“Was she friends with the guys?” Quinn asks. And Jack’s silently grateful that he doesn’t have to be the one to dig for more information.

“I don’t know if I would say friends, but definitely very friendly with everyone,” Luke says. “I think she was a TA in one of Rut and Adam’s classes or something. She seemed to get along with them the best. And I feel like she had a soft spot for Eddy, for some reason. I think it’s that thing where we just all are around each other all the time and the more we saw of her at the rink, the more we got to know her.”

Huh. Interesting. He doesn’t know anything about Rutger McGroarty except that he went to the program a few years after Jack did and was drafted to the Jets. Ethan Edwards is one of Luke’s closest friends from Michigan and could be signing with the Devils organization this upcoming season, and Jack likes him. Adam Fantilli trains with the guys in the summer so Jack’s gotten to know him decently well. That one might say the most.

Luke gives him a pointed look. “I’m serious. Don’t mess with her. She’s too nice for that. And she can put you in your place.”

And Jack’s downright offended that Luke would even insinuate something like that. But as Quinn guides them home, he thinks. Luke’s never given an opinion on any girl Jack’s dated or had a thing with. He’s spoken maybe three sentences to Amelie, didn’t even directly express his interest and Luke is already all up in his ass.

He hears when Amelie arrives hours later, Susie barking and the sounds of Stanley and Ruth talking with his parents. He tries to be nonchalant as they all come out into the backyard, when he sees her conversing with Luke, instead making himself busy by introducing himself to Stanley and Ruth.

But her pink linen pants match her headband and her smile is dripping with gold and Jack is going insane.

They have dinner outside surrounded by the sound of the rippling lake, the view of a cotton-candy sunset, the feel of light breeze and the warmth of easy laughter. Jack sneaks a few small pieces of chicken to Susie and Amelie catches him, glaring at him from across the table. Jack just smirks as she rolls her eyes, chomping away at her corn and tuning into whatever conversation is going on.

His parents ask about her background and her time at Michigan and he can’t help but smile when she talks about her double degree — communications and design — and how going to an activities fair turned into working as a photographer for the athletics department. She talks about her first time photographing a hockey game and how hockey is the fastest and in a way, hardest sport she’s ever photographed. But it’s become her favorite. That puts a smile on the faces of the entire Hughes family.

She gets asked what her plans are post-grad, and she just breezes through it casually, saying that she’s been talking to US Soccer and the NHL but nothing finalized yet. She says it so casually that Jack’s almost in awe.

Jack never believed in love at first sight, and still doesn’t, thank you very much, but the sound of Amelie’s laughter has him feeling so nervous and stupid and ridiculous.

Whatever. He’ll unpack this later.

day six - amelie

Amelie’s cameras and her camera equipment are her babies, which, duh, considering her passion and career. Which means she’s very excited to take out the vintage 35 MM film camera she got for a graduation gift from her parents.

After lunch, she takes one of the many outdoor chairs her grandparents have, plopping herself decently close to the lake to fiddle with some of the settings. She has her trusted DSLR camera next to her as well, the sounds of the birds and a Michigan summer her soundtrack. One of her neighbors must be playing the guitar outside and Amelie finds herself at peace.

The peace is slowly shattered as she hears a motor coming from the lake. She rolls her eyes to herself. Fucking boats and boatowners who think they’re the shit.

She does point her camera towards the boat though. It’s a cool shot.

She doesn’t realize it’s slowing down until it practically stops. She squints and sees someone waving their hand maniacally. She tentatively walks a bit towards the lake.

“Luke?”

He nods enthusiastically and Amelie kinda finds it endearing. She quickly takes note of Quinn at the helm and sees Jack’s head popping up from behind Quinn. The boat slows to a stop and she comes to the edge of the lake.

“Morning. Or afternoon, I guess.”

“Hey,” Jack says with a friendly smile. “What are you up to?”

She holds her camera. “Testing this out. I actually just got a pretty cool shot of the boat.”

“Is that a special kind of camera?” Quinn asks.

She nods. “Mmhmm. It’s a vintage 35 millimeter film camera, which is the exact opposite of what you want when photographing any sport. What are you guys up to today?”

Luke shrugs. “The usual. Probably gonna be on the boat for a few hours.” He lights up. “Do you wanna come on?”

She opens her mouth to say something but Jack pushes on before she can get a word out. “Yeah, come on!”

“If you don’t already have plans, that is,” Quinn adds.

She closes her mouth and thinks. She doesn’t have plans today and hasn’t ever been on a boat. Plus, even though she partially chose to spend time out here to reflect on herself and be by herself, she knows it’s good for her to be talking with people that aren’t her grandparents. And, they’ve been nothing but nice to her so far.

“On a few conditions.”

Jack tilts his head. “Which are?”

“I don’t have to get in the water and I get to bring my cameras.”

“Deal,” Jack says quickly.

Amelie gives a close-lipped smile. “Give me two minutes.” She sets her cameras down carefully by the chair side and jogs back into the house. She grabs her favorite Michigan crewneck in case it gets cold and grabs her tote bag which has sunscreen, sunglasses, her keys and wallet. When she comes back out, the boat is docked as close to the edge as possible. Without hesitation, Amelie takes off her flip-flops, wades into the water and hands Luke her bag and cameras carefully before Jack pulls her up into the boat.

She wobbles a bit and Jack’s hands hover behind her back in case she falls. “You ever been on a boat?”

“Not in awhile,” she says, settling down in a seat next to Luke. “I prefer having my feet on the ground.”

Luke’s eyebrows furrow. “You can swim, right?”

“What?” Amelie jokes quietly. “Are you planning on pushing me in?”

“No one is getting pushed in,” Quinn assures, sending a light glare at his two brothers as he starts steering them deeper into the lake. “Especially with those expensive cameras on board.”

“Are you really the one responsible for every photo of Luke playing hockey taken at Michigan?” Jack asks.

She blinks, absolutely taken aback. “Not every photo, I’d say.”

“Definitely a good amount though,” Luke says. “I feel like you were always at every game.”

She shrugs, “Well, my boss started putting me on hockey more because I’m pretty sure I was the only one who could do it well.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hey, it’s a tough sport to photograph. It’s fast and unpredictable and you have to have a sense of where the puck is going before it gets there.”

Amelie internally cringes at that last part. She sounds like a coach.

“Did you like hockey before?” Quinn asks.

“Not really, to be honest. The first game I ever watched was at Michigan when I was shadowing.”

“You must’ve figured out pretty quickly where the puck will go, then, if you didn’t know much about hockey before,” Jack says with something like respect in his eyes.

Amelie smiles. “I guess.”

Quinn nods to the film camera that Amelie had picked up the second she got on the boat. “Can we see the picture you took of the boat?”

“I wish. I’m gonna get the film developed at the end of the summer and that’ll take a few weeks.” Quinn hums in understanding. She takes out her regular camera and pops off the lens cap, shoving it in her back. Luke’s eyes light up in recognition and she can’t help but chuckle. “You recognize this one?”

“How could I not?”

She points it at three of them. “Smile. All of you.” She snaps a couple before putting down her camera and playfully glaring at them. “Geez. At least act like you guys like each other.” She looks quickly at the photo with a satisfied nod, before turning her camera towards the brothers so they can see.

They continue chatting, talking about various things from Michigan (the state and the school) to one of their cousins who just got engaged to where Amelie’s parents are (they also live in Michigan, though further south, but are currently visiting family in France that Amelie had seen last year when she studied abroad in France) to the upcoming season. Amelie mostly keeps quiet on that front, because she doesn’t need to let them know that she got a call yesterday with news that the NHL is closing in on a job offer that will determine where she spends the next few years.

The thought that she could be seeing these three multiple times throughout the season when she’s currently on their boat right now is just downright weird. She just met Quinn and Jack six days ago. She hasn’t seen Luke in two years.

This whole thing is just weird.

But whenever she feels too much in her own head, she just picks up her camera and points it at one of them or out at the lake, fiddling with lighting and focus settings. Sometimes she forgets that photography isn’t just going to be her career and that she can love it differently with no pressure and in a different light, no pun intended.

With time, she gets more comfortable, sunglasses perched on her nose, chin tucked on her knees and laughter flowing out lighter and easier. It’s easier to pick up her camera when they start taking turns wakesurfing, her eyes widening when Jack jokingly tries to drag her out, and she’s either semi-impressed at their ability to make it look easy or laughing her ass off when they flail and fall.

As she’s shutting off her camera — contrary to popular belief, she does need to put it away after a certain amount of time — Jack plops down next to her. Quinn and Luke are entranced in their own conversation towards the front.

Jack runs a hand through his damp hair, “Do you mind handing me my shirt next to you?”

She hands it over with a weary look. “It’s boiling out.”

“Oh, so you want me to keep my shirt off.”

The smirk on his face has Amelie rolling her eyes. Boys. “You’re gonna wanna take it off again in like, 5 minutes. I just think you’re being dumb.”

Jack puts a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Ouch. That might be the harshest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I met you six days ago.”

“And my point still stands.” She scrunches her nose a bit when Jack shakes out his hair and some water droplets land on her. He just smiles that half-smile that she’s not sure if she likes or hates. “Are you sure you don’t wanna get in the water?”

“I’m not wearing a bathing suit. And even then, I’m not a huge fan of being in the water.”

“Well, then, what are you a huge fan of? Besides being behind the camera.”

She tilts her head so that it’s leaning against her seat, turning to face him completely. “I used to dance competitively and continued dancing a bit in college. I read a lot. At school, I used to love just camping out at a cafe for hours for the vibes.” She shrugs. “Nothing much else though.”

He nods, before looking at the cameras in her bag. “Why photography?”

She smiles, like she always does when talking about photography. “Taking photos is really cool, I think, because you’re the middle man. You frame the story. And if you frame it well, people will look at the photo and know exactly what’s going on. With sports, it’s all about the timing and the moment. You can write an article describing a game with quotes from the players or whatever, and no disrespect to that. I have a good amount of friends who are journalists. But photo is different, because you can see it, you know?”

Jack nods. “I think I get what you mean. You got a boyfriend waiting for you somewhere? Or a significant other?”

Her eyes widen and a sharp laugh erupts out of her. That’s random. “What?”

Jack just shrugs like he didn’t just completely throw her off. “It’s a valid question, no? Don’t wanna assume or give off an unwanted vibe if we’re gonna be hanging out all summer.”

“Well, uh, no. No boyfriend or partner of any sort like that.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know why that surprises you.”

“Because you’re pretty. Nice. Talented, clearly. Surely the guys and gals and pals at Michigan aren’t stupid enough to turn you down.”

She bypasses all the compliments because that’s too much to think about right now, instead focusing on the latter half of his sentence. She wraps her arms around her legs to clasp her fingers together. “I dated a girl for a bit freshman year. Nothing happened. It just fizzled out. We’re still decent friends. And then I dated this guy for about a year. But that fell to shit pretty extraordinarily.”

“Most of them do, don’t they?”

Amelie unintentionally chuckles. “Oh yeah? And what about you? How’s your love life looking?”

Jack looks out into the distance, breaking eye contact for the first time this whole conversation. “Was in a relationship around two years ago. It didn’t work out because of distance. Nothing much since then.”

Amelie highly doubts that, but she keeps her mouth shut, leaving it alone. “Fair enough.

“So why Michigan? Anything in particular draw you in?”

“Well, I think Michigan is on anyone’s radar who grew up in this state,” she twists her ring around. “And then, uh, when I got offered a full ride, I knew I would’ve been an idiot to turn that down.”

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “A full ride? You serious?”

“Yeah. Academic scholarship.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Jesus. You’re smart smart. Even I know full academic scholarships aren’t given out easily.” Amelie ducks her chin down. She can feel herself blushing and she hates it. “Was it your first choice? Going to Michigan?”

“No,” she admits softly. And she knows she’s talking to someone who may not have gone there, but who might as well have. He might love the college more than she does and she’s the one who actually is an alum. “NYU was my top choice. And I got accepted, but I couldn’t afford it.”

He nods, and then Quinn asks Jack to take over so he can go on the water and the moment passes. She does move closer to the front partially so she’s under the sun again, mostly so she can be closer to everyone. Luke tosses her a bottle of water and she chugs a good half of it, shooting him a thankful smile.

Amelie’s missed this, to be honest. Despite deeply cherishing her alone time, she’s always enjoyed being around a small group of people, observing them and their dynamics to evaluate what kind of people they are. It reminds her of when she used to tag along with her two older sisters and their friends.

And these three are easy-going. They don’t allow Amelie to get in her head because they’re always talking about something and asking for her two cents. In Amelie’s 22 years of life, she’s become quick to notice if people are being nice to be nice or being nice to be kind.

The Hughes brothers are being nice to be kind. And Amelie hates herself a bit for thinking it would be the other.

She sits back and relishes in their company.

day seven - jack

Jack’s had a great day.

Practice this morning went well, he beat Quinn at ping pong (though that’s not hard to do) and the three brothers have confirmed who’s coming to the lakehouse in a few days after they’re back from their mini trip to visit their grandma for her 90th. There’s gonna be quite a few of the guys and Jack’s pumped. He always likes combining different groups of friends.

After dinner, he’s feeling a bit restless, so he decides to go out on a drive. Maybe he’ll grab some ice cream, though if he comes back with ice cream and none for Luke or Quinn, they’re gonna bitch about it. He puts on his summer playlist, which is filled with country, and rolls down the windows before backing out.

He’s probably driving too fast for what’s acceptable in a residential neighborhood, so it’s at the last moment does he stop when he recognizes Amelie in front of her grandparents’ place walking Susie. He slows down, and she looks behind her as he rolls up.

He leans his head out of his window just as he hears her say, “Hey Char, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Yeah. Bye. Love you.” She takes her phone away from her ear and shoots him a small smile. “Hey Jack.”

“Hi. Was that one of your sisters?”

“Yeah, that was Char. Or Charlotte I guess. The middle one.”

Susie paws up to the window and he scratches her head. “Hey cutie. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”

“She’s been off the rails the whole day, so she actually hasn’t been.” Amelie says dryly, making him snort.

“You up to anything right now?”

She narrows her eyes. “Why?”

He nods to his car, “Get in.”

“You sure?”

“Of course.”

“Gimme a second to let Susie back in. Pull into the driveway.” Jack obeys, idling the engine and unlocking the doors as he waits for Amelie to come back.

While he’s waiting, he thinks back to yesterday, being on the boat for hours with Amelie, learning more about her. Jack’s been told that he can be pretty excitable and eager, which is probably how he has acquired so many friends throughout his life. But, despite what a lot of people may think, he isn’t that stupid. He’s been around Amelie the last week enough to know that she’s a tougher nut to crack. And he knows there’s more to her than what she’s shown so far.

So he’ll take every chance, every moment, to get to know her better. Because September will come around sooner than he thinks. It always does.

She comes back out and climbs into the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt as he backs out of the driveway. She’s thrown on a Michigan Hockey sweatshirt over herself, settling her small bag on her lap. “You’re not gonna kidnap me and bury me in the woods, are you?” She asks.

Jack turns down his music with a chuckle. “No. I don’t have the brainpower for that. Have you eaten?”

“Yeah.”

He nods, starting to navigate them towards his favorite ice cream place around here. “Where’d you get the sweatshirt?”

She looks down at herself, as if she didn’t realize what she threw on. “Oh. I don’t remember, to be honest. Either it was given to me or one of the guys let me borrow it and I never gave it back.”

“Luke mentioned you were a TA in some of the guys’ classes?”

She leans back in the seat, leaning her head on the seatbelt so that she’s facing him. “Yeah. I was a TA my junior year for one of Adam, Rutger and Gavin’s classes. Senior year Luca and Nick, who I think came in after Luke left so you might not know him, took the class.”

“Were they good students?”

Amelie snorts. “Good enough. Though one time Rut tried to bribe me into extending an assignment since they had a big game away that weekend — I think it was Ohio State. I also had to go on that trip and I had to grade all of their stuff plus deal with my own classes, so I told him, in polite words, to fuck off and submit his fucking paper on time.”

Jack laughs. He can picture it in his head, Rutger with his good looks and childish smile turning on the charm to 100 to a skeptical Amelie, bored but amused eyes as she watches him plead his side. Maybe she’s wearing a headband. Maybe she’s not.

(She’s wearing one right now. A tiny white one that you’d miss if you weren’t looking)

“Those boys…were they good?”

“You’re the hockey player. Shouldn’t you know?”

“No. I mean, like, were they good to you? Nice to you? Because if they were dickheads…”

“No!” Amelie is quick to assure him. “They were great. Honestly. During my entire four years working with the team, I never really had a problem with any of the guys. And I can’t say that about every team I had to photograph.”

“Oh?” Jack sneaks a look over to her as she’s looking at her hands.

“Yeah.”

Jack wants to dig, but he doesn’t. He just doesn’t like the idea that people could be outwardly rude to Amelie when she’s just doing her job. He doesn’t like the idea that people could be outwardly rude to Amelie at all.

They climb out of the car and he locks it with a click as they walk side by side to the counter to order. He smiles to himself as he lags behind a few steps, watching her bounce on her toes to try and see the flavor options.

His attention is brought back into the moment as he feels Amelie tug the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Is the Chocolate Delight good?”

“That’s Quinn’s favorite. It’s super chocolatey.”

“Perfect.” They both step up to the window. Jack orders himself a small Strawberry Cheesecake in a cup. Amelie orders a small Chocolate Delight in a cup and before the girl at the window can even finish listing out the total price, Jack practically shoves his credit card into her hand.

Amelie gives him a scathing look. “Jack. Come on. You didn’t even give me a chance.”

“Precisely.” Her glare stays on her face. “It’s not a big deal. My treat for kidnapping you on our boat yesterday and kidnapping you tonight.”

“So you are kidnapping me,” she says, referring to her earlier comment. She relaxes and Jack calls it a win as they’re given their ice creams. They snag a high-top table that’s a bit away from the other crowded tables. He watches as she digs in, a small satisfied smile on her face, turning sideways to look at the sunset.

He’s not the photographer, but he wishes he could take a picture of her right now.

They eat their ice cream in relatively comfortable silence, and he feels satisfied when he plays with her foot under the table and it causes her to chuckle. She does kick him back hard enough to make him flinch though.

20 minutes later, they’re sitting in the back of Jack’s car at a lake lookout catching the last streaks of the sunset when he pipes up. “Colette. Charlotte. Amelie. Very French.”

“Well, that’s what happens when your mother is French.”

“What do they do?”

“Col’s doing some cool stuff with fashion merchandising in New York. Just got engaged and getting married sometime next year. Char’s at Stanford getting her PhD in…something that involves physics and is over my head.”

Jack chuckles. “I feel that. My sister’s doing her residency at NYU and no matter how hard I want to understand, when she gets on her tangents, I can never follow.”

Amelie’s eyebrows furrow. “Sister?”

“Oh, well, not actually. It’s Clementine. One of us must’ve mentioned her yesterday,” Jack says. “She’s not my sister by blood, but our parents have been best friends since forever and we all grew up together, so she might as well be. Went to UCLA and then, also Stanford, actually. So for eight years, I didn’t really get to see her that often.” Jack digs out his phone and flickers through his photos before clicking on the one his mom took of him, Quinn, Luke and Clementine in New Hampshire earlier in the summer.

“She’s pretty,” Amelie remarks softly.

Jack smiles. “I don’t think I’d be the same if I didn’t have her growing up. We actually live together in Jersey now. Me, her and Luke. It’s a fun time, even if she pretends it’s not.”

“She’s doing her residency, you said?”

“Yeah,” he takes his phone back. “This I do know. Combined residency with pediatrics and the ER. Just finished her first year out of five.”

Amelie whistles. “Good for her. So she’ll be in New York and Jersey for the near future?”

“Yup,” Jack’s smile seems to always be permanent on his face when talking about Clementine. “Though now she’s dating Hisch so that’s a whole thing.”

“She’s dating your captain?” Amelie chuckles, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I sure hope you like him.”

“I love Nico,” he defends himself. “I was rooting for them to get together. They were tiptoeing around each other all of last season. But now that they’re actually dating I just like being a bitch about it to give them a hard time.”

Amelie shoves her hands in her sweatshirt. “That’s what siblings do.”

“I can’t imagine you being a bitch to your sisters’ significant others they’ve brought home.”

She shrugs, “I don’t think I am. I’ve been told I can be a bit closed-off when you first meet me though.”

“Hey. Nothing wrong with taking time to feel people out.”

“Some people don’t have the patience for that, though.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. A lot of people just assume people who aren’t outwardly charismatic aren’t worth their time.”

Jack blinks, thinking about her words over and over again like a broken record. “Well, then they’re missing out.”

She looks at him and he’s momentarily distracted by the way her white headband creates a sort of halo around her. She lets out a small smile. Jack wants to frame it and put it on the wall of his room back in Jersey. She chuckles, and Jack feels defensive all of a sudden.

“What?” He asks, trying not to sound indignant.

“Nothing, it’s just…I don’t know. That’s such an interesting thing coming from someone who I imagine is exactly just that.”

“Just what?” He’s not doing a great job today at keeping track of where a conversation goes.

She huffs. “Outwardly charismatic. You’re telling me you’re not?”

Jack’s hands suddenly start to sweat. “I mean, I guess. But that doesn’t come easy to everyone. I still don’t think it comes easy to me. I’ve just been forced to be okay at it because of what I do.”

She starts swatting at bugs so they hop out of the trunk and start driving back. She doesn’t miss a beat in their conversation. “That’s another reason why I love photography. No one expects anything out of me or pays attention to me.”

Jack can’t help but laugh, thinking back to his rookie year and all the damn expectations that were placed on him that he didn’t surpass. It’s water under the bridge now, but he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t think about it once in awhile, especially when the draft bust comments come back after a stretch of bad games.

“I don’t know what that’s like, having no one expect anything out of me,” he admits, carefully pulling out on the main road.

“Do you like that? Having a chip on your shoulder?”

“Yeah, in a way. Definitely lights a fire under your ass and motivates you. But, I don’t know, it can get to be a lot, I guess. But I’m used to it. People have been expecting things out of me since I was 16. Younger, even.”

Amelie hums, adjusting her headband. “Must be a lonely place to be at times.”

“Where?”

“The top.”

Jack mulls over her words in his brain. Once. Twice. A third time. He clears his throat. “I’ve never thought about it like that.”

When he’s about to sleep that night, he replays their conversations in his head until he finally drifts off.

day twelve - amelie

Amelie’s a bit glad to have had a few days away from Jack — from any of the Hughes brothers — as they went on a mini trip to Canton to celebrate their grandmother’s birthday. She’s been filling her time by taking walks with Susie, tagging along to help Ruth with groceries and humoring Stanley when he wants to go sit at his favorite diner for hours to talk. Retirement’s pretty nice, Amelie thinks, but even she’s starting to get a bit restless.

So when she gets a text from Jack after finishing her morning coffee — she forgets when they exchanged numbers or if they ever even did. Luke could’ve given it to him — she’s actually excited.

Weird. When’s the last time Amelie has felt excited to get a text?

Jack Hughes

amelie my amelie

we just got back last night

and a bunch of your boys are here for a few days

you should come by and say hi

Amelie furrows her eyebrows as she responds.

Amelie Fishel

my boys?

Jack Hughes

beniers, briss, blankenburg, fants, brindley and eddy

i might be leaving someone out but you get it

Amelie blinks. She hasn’t heard some of those names in years. And they’re just all over the house right now?

Hockey players are weird. Their friendships and circles and how they overlap are even weirder.

Amelie Fishel

that’s a lotta boys

Jack Hughes

yeah and that’s not even all of them

luke mentioned that you’re nearby and they’re kinda harping on me to get you to come over

i also just wanna see you

“You should go,” Amelie jumps out of her seat. Luckily, Ruth isn’t directly behind her. She doesn’t particularly want to be nursing her grandma’s injuries.

“Don’t eavesdrop on my conversations, Grandma.”

“You should go,” Ruth repeats. “Those boys were sweet and polite over dinner. And you know their friends?”

“Yeah. Photographed quite a few of them at college throughout the years.”

“Then you should go.”

“Aren’t we about to go to lunch with some of your friends?”

Ruth tuts. “They’d perfectly understand you ditching us old gossips to hang out with your friends.”

“I’m going to lunch with you. I haven’t seen them in awhile either and I like your friends,” Amelie says firmly. One look from Ruth and Amelie relents. “I’ll go see the guys after dinner. If they even want me.”

Amelie Fishel

won’t be around until after dinner

dunno if that changes your invite

Jack Hughes

see you after dinner 🫡

i’ll try to hold off your fan club in the meantime

(As Amelie goes upstairs to change, Ruth chuckles to herself. She remembers the middle Hughes brother unable to keep his eyes off Amelie at dinner that night.)

After dinner comes, and she shuffles through her dressers before reminding herself that it doesn’t matter what she wears. She throws on her favorite pair of jean shorts and tosses on a Stanford sweatshirt she stole from Charlotte ages ago. She grabs her tote bag, kisses her grandparents goodbye and pats Susie on the head before walking out the door.

As she approaches the Hughes home, she rolls her eyes at all the cars parked in their driveway and lining down the street. Exactly how many people are here?

She hears voices coming from the back and decides to forgo the front door and paddles over through their side yard into the back. Amelie pauses at the sight, taking in what must be at least ten people by the firepit. She tries to be discreet, figuring out where or who she should head to first. But a voice calling out loudly stops her.

“Mimi!” Before she knows it, Adam Fantilli crashes into her body. She grunts into his chest as he lifts her up.

“Call me that one more time and you won’t have a season to get back to in Columbus.”

Gavin chuckles from behind Adam, before reaching out for his much tamer hug. Good. “Nice to know some things don’t change.”

She huffs, but her heart does feel lighter. “I saw you, like, three months ago, Brinds. No one changes that much in three months.” She lets the two boys each swing an arm around her shoulders and gets smushed in the middle, both simultaneously talking her ear off. She’s not really catching what they say, and she thinks they don’t actually care, but it’s nice to be around them again. Really nice. Familiar.

She’s led to the fire, and feels her smile grow as Nick Blankenburg, Brendan Brisson and Matty Beniers all bounce over and give her enthusiastic hugs and greetings. God, it’s been so long since she’s seen them. Even though she was younger and more naive when photographing them her freshman year, they were on her first roster. And there’s always something special about the first one.

“The fact that you decided to stick around the boys for four years says a lot,” Nick says with a smile. “Did you like them as much as the guys during your first year though?”

“You never forget your first!” Matty chimes in and Brendan throws his head back in laughter. Amelie’s sick of them already, rolling her eyes as she greets Luke with a tight side hug.

She beams at Ethan, whose smile is just as big. “Hi Eddy.”

“Hey Ami,” She lets out a laugh as the smiley Canadian smothers her in a hug. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon. I’ve missed you.”

“Me neither,” she mumbles into his chest before pulling away. “Missed you too.”

“Well, we obviously know who the favorite is.” Someone pipes in and her eyes track toward the voice. This guy definitely didn’t go to Michigan, but has one of the most contagious smiles she’s ever seen. “I’m Trevor. Friend of Jack’s. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Ah, yes. She remembers Jack mentioning him a few times. “Nice to meet you, Trevor.” She turns to the last person she doesn’t know. Dark brown, curly hair and pouty lips. “You must be Alex.”

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up and Amelie kinda likes that he doesn’t hide his surprise. “Yeah. Jack talk about me too?”

“Yeah. Mostly Ellen though. Said that you’re the favorite.” Alex grins as Trevor howls in laughter.

“He is,” Jack grumbles from behind her. “Even to this day, It’s quite annoying.” Jack shoots her a quick smile and Amelie smiles back before thanking Quinn quietly as he passes her a cider.

She looks around to see that all of the guys have beer in their hands. She had mentioned off the cuff on the boat that she hates beer. She’s touched that they remembered. She takes a seat in one of the adirondack chairs, Jack on one side and Adam on her other.

“I saw Luke’s story. How was golfing?”

“Good,” Quinn says.

“You a golfer, Mimi?”

Again, Amelie glares at the young Blue Jacket. “I think I’d rather do anything else.”

Brendan chuckles. “I recognize that glare. I’ve almost missed it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Amelie says, sipping her drink and wrapping her arms around herself. Jack tosses the large blanket over both their legs and she nudges his foot with hers as a thank you.

The boys are loud and talk over each other and Amelie can’t remember the last time she’s rolled her eyes this much. She takes the bag of chips that Ethan passes her and finishes it off, much to Luke’s dismay. And of course, true to herself, she takes out her camera to snap a few photos. As the sky darkens and fire blazes, Amelie feels warm, chiming in occasionally when she sees fit but mostly listening.

Amelie’s attention is pulled back to the present with Ethan asking her a question. “You mentioned at the end of the season that you were looking at jobs with some different sports leagues.” She doesn’t remember telling him that, but if there’s anyone she would tell, it would be him. “Did any of that, you know, go anywhere?”

Amelie smiles. “I’m in the final stages of, uh, figuring out something with the NHL.”

Jack’s eyes widen. “No US Soccer anymore?”

Amelie shrugs. “Maybe in the future. But no, not right now. Least not full-time.”

“Wait,” Ethan pushes with wide, excited eyes. “Ami. Are you gonna be-”

“I don’t wanna jinx it,” Amelie says with her hand up, but a smile peeks through. “It’s not a sure thing yet. They’re trying to figure out with what team or area of the country. Or that’s what they told me.”

Cheers erupt and she kinda wants to hide her face behind her hands. Popcorn is thrown at her and she swats it away. She turns to look at Jack, who smiles and picks a kernel out of her hair.

It’s a beautiful smile. She wishes she saw it more often, instead of the half smirk half smile he always does.

“Any chance you’d be in Jersey?” Luke asks as Ethan grins and Jack nudges her elbow.

“Columbus also works!” Adam calls out, high-fiving Nick and Gavin.

“California sunshine is nice,” Trevor sings out.

“Just the west coast in general,” Quinn adds as Brendan, Alex and Matty all nod emphatically.

“Your pitches all need some work,” Amelie snorts, before shrugging. “Honestly, I’ll be fine anywhere. Just not Michigan. I need to get out of here.” Everyone laughs, but she catches Jack’s inquisitive look. She quickly lets herself get dragged into a conversation with Quinn, Nick and Adam instead.

She eyes the pool table through the window of the sunroom and Jack catches her, challenging her to a game. She, along with Jack, Adam and Ethan decide to go in for a quick game. They split up into teams, her and Jack on one, Adam and Ethan on the other.

She eyes the chalkboard and grimaces at Jack’s less-than-desirable record. “Do I really want you on my team?”

Jack follows her eyeline and rolls his eyes. “Ignore that.”

“Kinda hard to,” she squints. “Damn, I should’ve dragged Quinn in here.” Jack pouts as Ethan snickers, her waving at Adam to break.

What Amelie failed to voice when she saw the pool table is that she is pretty damn good at pool. During the few times she went out in college, it’s how she and her friends liked to get free drinks. She would challenge a few of her overconfident guy friends or acquaintances and bet a free drink or two. Though actually, she remembers she played against Adam at least once and absolutely destroyed him. She’s surprised and amused that he doesn’t remember, if his wide eyed indignation at her sinking a seemingly-impossible shot says anything, much to Jack’s amusement.

“Holy shit,” Jack says, impressed. “Who taught you to play? Can you give me their number?”

Amelie shrugs with a small smirk, watching Adam take his turn. “There was a diner I grew up nearby that had a table. I honestly can’t remember who taught me. I just played against my sisters a lot.”

“We should’ve placed a bet on this. You two didn’t know about this secret talent?” Jack says, directing the question to the former Wolverines.

“Yeah, Adam,” she eggs on, laughing as his shot misses. “You should remember. I got you and Truscott to buy me a drink out of it once.” Adam curses in realization as Ethan cackles.

“Wait, I remember that,” Ethan says. “I was even shocked that you were out and about, considering all the times you turned our invites down. Imagine me hearing that not only are you out, you also just single handedly took down the two best pool players on the team.”

“Turning down invites to parties, huh?” Jack chuckles.

Amelie rolls her eyes, watching Jack take his shot. “No. They were all just up in my business when I was trying to be professional.”

Ethan scoffs. “Professional? Yeah, okay.”

“Professional,” Amelie repeats. “I was working for you guys, technically.”

“Ew, no you weren’t,” Adam says, crinkling his nose. “Don’t say that. God. You were just as much part of the team as we were.”

“I don’t know about that,” she watches Jack mess up his shot and just rolls her eyes. “All I did was take pictures of you all.”

“Part of the team,” Ethan emphasizes, also messing up his shot. God, Amelie thinks. These boys are bad at pool. “Stop pretending we weren’t your favorites to photograph.”

“Yeah, admit it!” Adam chimes in. “You were easier on me when grading papers too.”

“I was absolutely not,” she says. “The fact that you treated pre-game as office hours made me grade you harder.” They just wave her off and Amelie huffs.

“Look where being professional got you,” Ethan smirks. “Some fun friendships, eh?” She smacks his shoulder.

“You’re lucky I like you,” Amelie warns, before sinking in the 8-ball with a smirk. Adam and Ethan groan as Jack cheers, placing an overzealous kiss on her cheek before going to the chalkboard. “You’re welcome for the win.”

When the fire starts to die out and more people start yawning an hour later, Amelie decides to call it a night. She gives everybody a hug, promising more than once that she’ll see everyone at least one more time before they leave in five days. Jack offers to walk her home and she doesn’t even bother fighting.

They start walking. Amelie flips her hood up and Jack shoves his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “You lied to me.”

She furrows her eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Said the guys were just nice to you. They love you.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“And you love them.”

Amelie stares down at her shoes with a shrug. “Like I said, they’re good guys.” She looks back up and tugs at his sweatshirt sleeve. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Of course.” Jack says. “You’re always welcome.”

“I don’t think you mean that.”

“I never say things I don’t mean,” he says lightly. “Waste of time and energy.”

Amelie swallows, Jack’s woody cologne filtering through her nose and all of a sudden, it feels like he’s too close, but she can’t pull herself away. “Thank you though. Seriously. You’re right. I-I’ve missed them.”

She lets him pull her into a side hug and doesn’t say anything when he keeps his arm swung around her shoulder. “Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

Amelie chuckles. “What are you thinking?”

“Well, turns out some of the guys want a rematch because they’re mad I beat their asses so we’re golfing again tomorrow, but we’re starting early.”

“I’m not going golfing. Even the best bribe couldn’t bring me out there.”

“I’m not asking you to come golfing,” Jack laughs. “It’s just, contrary to what you may believe, I’m kinda annoying in the morning and need caffeine and fuel to deal with that many people, especially before going on the course.”

“Jack, what are you-”

“Do you wanna grab breakfast tomorrow? Just the two of us? Those fuckers never get up in time.”

“So you’re gonna let them starve?”

“They can figure themselves out.”

They stop at her front door and she turns around. Him being on the step below causes them to be at the same height. “Sure.”

The left side of his lips quirk up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Though subjecting me to your pre-caffeine self seems like you’re trying to sabotage me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Does 9 work?”

Despite herself, Amelie grins. “See you then.” She reaches behind her to twist the doorknob. “Thanks for walking me home. Goodnight Jack.”

“Goodnight.”

She watches through the window until he walks out of sight. She then looks at the lone light still on in the kitchen and has an idea.

day thirteen - jack

Jack’s not an idiot, despite what his brothers and teammates may tell you. He knows this isn’t a date.

But it sure feels like one.

Jack’s looking at the suitcase he probably should’ve fully unpacked by now, figuring out what to wear. It’s literally just breakfast with a girl he met not even two weeks ago, so he shouldn’t really care what he’s wearing.

Breakfast. With a girl he met less than two weeks ago. A girl whose company he really, really enjoys.

He shakes his head at himself, pulling out a black t-shirt and khaki shorts. He decides to clasp on a watch before he can overthink himself out of it.

At 8:57, he quietly paddles downstairs and grabs the keys off the hook before jumping into his car. He barely pulls into her driveway before her front door opens. A smile spreads across his face at Amelie, her floral pink dress flying behind her as she rushes out, quickly checking she has what she needs in her tote bag before opening the car door.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Hey,” she breathes out. She scans him up and down really quickly. It makes him swallow. “You look nice.”

He backs out of the driveway. “You do too.” When he gets to look at her again, he notices the matching hair scarf hanging from her ponytail. “I like the thing in your hair. You look like a fairy.”

“A fairy?”

“Yeah.”

She blinks. “Oh. That’s…really nice, I think? Thank you.”

“Definitely a compliment.” He bites his lip to stop his smile from growing too wide. She hums along to the song on the radio and looks out the window. He rolls it down for her and watches her lean her elbows at the edge, her head peeking out.

Jack has to drag his eyes back to focus on the road. The sight of Amelie sitting shotgun while he’s driving brings a feeling in his stomach he’s never felt before. At least not to this depth.

She turns to him. “Where are we going?”

“Sunny Side Up right off Beecher Ave.”

She chuckles. “That’s Grandpa’s favorite place. We might catch him come in as we leave.”

He freezes a bit as he slows the car down with a stop at the light, at the thought of Stanley coming in to see him with his beloved granddaughter, both semi-dressed up on a Wednesday morning, just the two of them.

When they arrive, he holds open the door for her, and breathes in the smells of coffee and eggs and everything good coming out of the kitchen of Sunny Side Up. The place is emptier than he expected, but he also knows the typical brunch crowd rolls in a bit later. The hostess tells them to sit wherever they like and he follows Amelie to a spot by the window. They barely slip into their seats before he hears a familiar scratchy yet comforting voice.

“Amelie!” The woman then turns her head and doesn’t even hide her surprise as her grin grows. “And Jack Hughes. What a nice surprise.”

“Hey Sherry,” Jack nods with a grin.

He sees Amelie’s eyes light up, even if it’s subdued. “Hi Sherry.”

The older woman that Jack has seen here every summer since he moved here sets two menus down. She offers Jack a pointed look that looks awfully like his mother’s. “I haven’t seen you here this summer as often as past summers. You cheating on us with some other cafe?”

“I’m a loyal guy, Sherry,” he charms. “I would never.”

Sherry narrows her eyes, “Mmhmm. I’ll get you two some coffee while you decide what you want.”

Amelie nods and flashes a warm smile. “Thank you.” They watch Sherry scurry away. The sound of Amelie’s gentle laugh pulls his attention back to her. “You come here often, huh? Well, clearly not often enough this summer.”

“Hey, you can’t even say that,” Jack whines. “Clearly you come here often too.”

She shrugs, “Like I said, it’s Grandpa’s favorite place. I come here with him at least once a week.”

“Do you have any friends around the area?” Amelie’s eyebrows shoot up and Jack immediately backtracks. “Not that-I didn’t mean it like that. I just-”

Amelie snorts, leaning back in her seat. “Chill Jack. I know what you meant. The ones who are in Michigan aren’t close by and the rest are spread out across the country. I came to my grandparents’ knowing that I wouldn’t see a lot of my friends. Kinda purposeful on my end, in a way. But then Luke saw me walk Susie and now here we are.”

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t enjoyed our company.”

“It’s definitely made my summer more eventful.” Their coffees come and neither of them look at the menu before ordering. Jack orders the french toast with strawberries and blueberries and she gets the house omelet. Jack ignores the pointed look that Sherry gives both of them, because he’s right with her and kinda has no idea what to make of this but is trying to enjoy it while he can.

He feels her nudge his feet under the table. He snaps his focus back to her as she nods to the cup of creamers next to him. “Pass me two?”

He nods, obliging. “Sugar?”

She shakes her head. “I’m good. Thanks.”

Jack watches her stir the creamer in before a sudden thought pops up. “Yesterday, when you said that you don’t care where you went as long as it wasn’t Michigan, what did you mean by that?”

Amelie, to her credit, doesn’t seem surprised by the sudden question. “Exactly what I said. It’s nothing against the Red Wings. I just need to get out of here.”

“Why?”

She stares at him for a few seconds, and Jack gets nervous. Before he can take back the question, she answers. “When you haven’t really gotten the chance to travel or live anywhere your whole life and a job offers you to go anywhere, you take the chance.”

Jack nods slowly. He’s gotten to travel to a lot of places through hockey, but he still considers Michigan his home and often feels an urge to come back during the season — as much as he thoroughly enjoys living and playing in New Jersey. It’s hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that someone could want out of Michigan.

She smiles and chuckles a bit suddenly. Jack raises an eyebrow in question. She just shakes her head. He thinks she’s adorable. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I just thought of something.”

“Do share with the class.”

“I’ve been so excited at the prospect of leaving Michigan, but it’s so clear you and your brothers love it and I don’t know. It’s nice to be reminded of the good parts of this state.”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. I guess throughout the season I don’t really get to be around Quinn or my friends and family that often, so when all of us have the off-season, we all naturally gravitate towards home, which nowadays, is here.”

“You don’t have to defend yourself about why you like this state, Jack,” she says with a small chuckle. “I get it. My family’s technically all here too, so I can’t escape it completely.”

Their food arrives soon after and they spend a few silent minutes just digging in. He cuts a piece of his french toast for her and she in turn cuts him a portion of her omelet. He’s hoping that she’s not catching the fact that he can’t keep his eyes off of her.

When they finish, Jack shoves his card into Sherry’s hand when she grabs the check, they’re walking out of the diner, full and content. The sun is beating down but not too hard that Jack feels gross. Hopefully it stays that way when he and the boys go out golfing in an hour.

“Do you have a second to come inside?”

Jack’s eyebrows immediately shoot up his forehead, killing the engine. “Yeah. Why?”

“Just come inside,” Amelie rolls her eyes. “I’m not gonna kill you.”

“Reassuring,” he deadpans, following her through the front door and immediately bending down to pet Susie and prevent her from running out. He watches Amelie disappear into the kitchen for a moment before she comes back out with a tupperware container filled with…cookies?

“For you,” Amelie hands him the tupperware. “And the other guys.”

“What are these?”

“I kinda got a burst of energy after I came home last night and wanted to do something with my hands. You’re gonna tell me you guys are gonna turn down fresh cookies?”

“No,” he says, looking back at her. “Thank you.”

She smiles. “You’re welcome.”

Jack opens his mouth and then closes it. He wants to ask why she made the cookies. Why she’s giving a large container of them to him and their friends. If it means anything.

Instead, he backs towards the door. “See you around?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Have fun golfing with the boys. I don’t want to hear a single thing about it.”

He laughs. “I won’t subject you to that. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it. And thanks for breakfast.”

“Of course.”

“Stop paying for me though.”

“Never.”

She playfully shoves him out the door with an eye roll. He thinks he could see that eye roll for the rest of his life and feel content.

day fifteen - amelie

As she’s pouring herself a second cup of coffee, she hears someone knocking on the front door. Ruth’s out walking Susie and Stanley’s out golfing with friends the day, so Amelie trudges over to the front door.

It’s Quinn, in a Canucks sweatshirt and basketball shorts, his hands shoved into his pockets.

Amelie smiles easily, albeit confused. “Hey Quinn.”

“Morning.”

“What’s up?”

He shifts on his feet. “Are you busy?”

“Not really,” she opens the door wider for him to come in. “I was just editing some photos. Coffee?”

“Please.”

“Anything in it?

“A bit of milk if you have some.”

She hums, preparing his coffee and carefully sliding it over to him as he rests his forearms on the island. “Where are the rest of the guys?”

He shrugs. “Either asleep or just hanging out. We had a tough practice this morning.”

“And you decided to come here?” She teases. She doesn’t want him to think he’s not welcome, because she actually really likes Quinn, despite spending the least amount of time with him compared to his brothers.

“Kinda wanted some peace and quiet, to be honest, which is hard to find in the house when there’s so many people,” he admits, before nodding to her open laptop. “You said you were editing photos? What for?”

“Partially to update my portfolio. Partially to brush up on my skills.” She moves the laptop so he can see it. Pulled up is a picture she took last year at a Michigan swim meet. “See how it’s a little too bright here?” She clicks on the dodge tool in the open Photoshop tab and quickly edits. “There.”

“Do you do this with every photo?”

“Sometimes I switch between different softwares, but it’s generally the same process. The big differences that I have to be aware of are lighting and composition when editing.”

Quinn nods. “This is sick. Like, super cool.”

She quickly saves her work before turning her full attention back to Quinn, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Do you have any photos you’ve taken of us the last few weeks?”

With that, Amelie scoots herself closer to him and slowly scrolls through a bunch of photos, starting from that day onto the boat and then to the fire the other night and other miscellaneous ones inbetween. Quinn lingers on a picture that’s one of her favorites, one that makes her smile everytime she sees it. It’s of Jack the night of the fire. The light from the fire is illuminating the front of his face while the dawn of the Michigan sky behind him casts him in a subtle light.

He’s looking away from the camera — at Gavin, if she remembers correctly — in the middle of laughing. His hair is all tousled over his forehead, some loose strands going over his eyes. His blue eyes are bright and if she showed this photo to anyone who didn’t know Jack Hughes, she’s sure they would be able to hear his laughter anyways.

He looks radiant. Everything like the bright and intense first-overall draft pick he was projected to be. As she watches Quinn’s eyes flicker over the photo, she thinks there’s something incredibly intimate about the way the camera captures the middle Hughes brother.

(“The subject of the camera makes up less than one percent of the photograph,” Professor Yang, one of her most trusted mentors said to her once. “The majority of the beauty of a photograph comes from the photographer themself and how they see the subject.“

It’s always at the most inconvenient times does Professor Yang’s voice ping through her head.)

She watches Quinn click through other photos, some edited, most of them raw. He makes small comments here and there asking about the mechanics of photography and how she knows when and what to shoot her lens at. She tries to explain in a way that would make sense to someone who knows little to nothing about photography and Quinn, to his credit, is keeping up the best he can. She goes to pour Quinn another round of coffee as Ruth comes back in through the side door, Susie trotting over to Quinn happily, who pets her. Ruth merely smiles as she’s sliding off her shoes at the sight of the eldest Hughes brother.

“Good morning, Quinn.”

Quinn grins. “Good morning. Sorry for interrupting.”

Ruth waves him off, coming to kiss the top of Amelie’s head. “Not at all. I see Amelie here has offered you some coffee. Would you like some chocolate chip cookies? Also courtesy of Amelie.”

“Not on the meal plan, I’m sure,” Amelie comments dryly.

Quinn laughs loudly. “No, but it is the summer.” He reaches into the container in Ruth’s hands. “Thank you. I actually had some of the ones you gave Jack last night. They’re really good.”

Amelie ignores the look she knows her grandmother is giving her. “Thanks. I could teach you how to make them, if you’d like. My, uh, an old friend of mine taught me a trick his mom taught him that make it extra gooey.”

She, again, ignores the look her grandmother is giving her. Quinn doesn’t need to know that old friend is her ex-boyfriend.

(Humans are interesting in the way that they’re mosaics, made up of the pieces — people, in this case — they’ve encountered in their lives. Amelie hates what Cooper did to her, but she will never forget the methods he taught her about making the perfect chocolate chip cookie)

Quinn grins. “I’d love to know, actually. I’ve been wanting to figure out how to bake simple things to, like, bring to events and stuff. I should, right? Being captain and all.”

Amelie snorts as she starts getting ingredients. “If you say so.”

Quinn and Ruth start chatting inbetween Amelie telling Quinn what to do. She can tell her grandmother is absolutely charmed by Quinn’s politeness and overall presence. And to be honest, she is as well.

It makes sense that he’s captain, in the way he speaks, listens and guides. Amelie thinks if she were on a sports team, she’d ride into battle with, for and alongside him.

Quinn spills a bit of flour on the counter and Amelie just snorts, waving away his apologies and telling him to crack the eggs. She just eyes him to make sure he isn’t fucking that up while listening to Ruth talk about something Charlotte told her on a call the other day.

“You know,” Ruth starts and Amelie immediately doesn’t like where her tone is going. “My granddaughters are pretty great people, present company included. Colette’s engaged, but Charlotte’s single.”

Amelie bursts out in laughter as Quinn starts blinking, no doubt trying to think quickly about how to respond to that. “Grandma, at least try to be subtle about it.”

“Why? I’m too old for that.”

“With all love, I don’t think Quinn is Char’s type. Char only dates assholes, remember?”

Quinn laughs in surprise as Ruth taps her chin with a small smile. “I suppose that’s true. The boy she brought back last summer wasn’t too bad.”

“He told me photography wasn’t a real career and that I was wasting my time,” Amelie deadpans as the oven beeps. She nods at Quinn to put in the trays. “I get that he’s in academia like Char, but what a shitty take.”

“Maybe introducing Quinn to her will break her streak,” Ruth suggests.

Amelie rolls her eyes to humor her. “How do you even know if Quinn is single?”

Ruth eyes him. “Are you?”

Quinn clears his throat, “I am. Newly single though.”

Amelie didn’t know that, and it’s not her place to pry. She grimaces as she pulls him into a side hug. “That settles it, then. I’m keeping Quinn to myself.” Luckily, that gets him to smile.

Just as the oven beeps and Ruth moves to start preparing lasagna, (“Sit down, Quinn. You’re not going anywhere.” Ruth had said with a firm voice as Quinn was trying to leave, not wanting to intrude for lunch), the doorbell rings. Amelie blinks. She has a feeling she knows who’s on the other side of the door.

It’s a slightly smaller group than the night by the fire. Jack, Luke, Adam, Ethan, Alex and the sweet smile of a guy who wasn’t here last time. But Jack has shown her enough pictures and he’s talked about Cole Caufield enough that Amelie is 99% sure it’s him.

“Hey Mimi!”

“Don’t call me that,” she automatically responds to Adam. “You all here for lunch?”

“Ruth invited us,” Luke pipes up. Well, that explains why she was taking out such a large portion of lasagna sheets. “Susie saw Jack getting the mail and kinda mauled him.

“Of course she did,” Amelie steps aside as one by one, they greet her with a quick hug. She hugs Cole for a bit longer. “Cole, right? It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Cole beams. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She chuckles softly as they follow everyone else. She tries to ignore Jack behind them, knowing he’s listening in. “Anything Eddy says about me is 100% true. The others you can take with a grain of salt.”

“Even when Jack tells me he thinks you’re one of the prettiest and talented people he’s ever met?”

Amelie’s eyebrows jump up as she looks at Jack, who doesn’t even look ashamed. He even shoots her a quick wink and she’s for sure blushing. She turns back to Cole with a shy grin. “I don’t know about that.”

They walk towards the kitchen, where Ruth is shooing everyone out with the plate of cookies Amelie and Quinn just made. Amelie leads them all outside, squinting against the sun as she quickly grabs a few chairs so everyone has a place to sit. She leans her head on her chin as she focuses on what seems a continuation of a previous conversation about relationships, or lack thereof. She rolls her eyes. Typical. She’s honestly surprised this didn’t come up at the fire the other night in the Hughes backyard.

She munches on a cookie and merely smiles as Jack finds his way to the seat next to hers. He nudges her knee with hers and she bumps him back.

“Hey,” he says softly so that only she can hear him.

“Hi.”

“I like your bow. You look pretty.”

Amelie reaches up to touch the black sheer bow clipped atop her ponytail. “Thank you. Sorry Suz attacked you earlier.”

Jack shrugs, the sunshine painting his cheeks an endearing rosy pink. “Gonna get lunch out of it, aren’t I?”

“You flash your smile at Grandma and I’m pretty sure she’d bake you a cake everyday.”

He only smirks before they both tune back into the conversation. Though from where Jack is sitting, Amelie has a perfect peripheral view of him. He has a Yankees cap on backwards, his curls peeking out at the ends. His summer tan is obvious against the white t-shirt he’s wearing with light-washed jeans.

It’s not the first time that Amelie has noticed how attractive he is. It’s the first time that she has to swallow and force herself to focus on Adam’s voice because she wants to…kiss him. Shit, she really wants to kiss Jack Hughes.

Horrible.

“What do you think, Amelie?” Her head whips at the sound of Luke’s voice.

“What are we talking about?”

Luke smirks and Amelie wants to slap him. “Past relationships, to sum it up. Mostly Adam’s.” And Quinn’s, Amelie fills in in her head, because it’s true, even if it’s unspoken.

“What about them?”

The air suddenly feels a bit heavy, the most solemn it’s been since Luke saw her at the end of his driveway two weeks ago.

“Do you think it’s a thing to lose feelings for someone? Like is it real?”

Some sort of noise erupts out of her mouth before she can stop it. If the guys weren’t intrigued before, they are now, as they fall silent, waiting for her next words. She chooses her next words carefully.

“I think it’s more of an excuse that people use when they don’t want to justify or dig into the real reason why they’re feeling the way they are.” Someone whistles. She thinks it’s Alex, but she’s not 100% sure. Amelie winces. “Sorry, did I just attack someone?”

“Just my ex,” Adam says.

“Oh good. No one here then.” Amelie offers him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry though. I know how much that sucks to hear.”

“It does.”

“I had to learn that it’s rarely your fault that they supposedly lost feelings. It took me awhile to figure that out, but I did.” She turns to Adam and tries to give him a reassuring smile. “It sucks. Agonizing over everything you could’ve done better and asking yourself why you weren’t enough for them to stick around. At least that’s how it was for me.”

“That’s…kinda exactly how it felt,” Adam admits. “Feels, even now, sometimes.”

Amelie shrugs. “There’s no set timeline for the process of moving on. And it ebbs and flows too. Also no fault in that.”

“You seem awfully knowledgeable about breakups,” Luke states. Amelie catches Ethan’s subtle but pointed glance. How much does she want to tell them about that part of her life?

“A story for another time,” she says with a dry smile. Cooper Volt and his douchebag ways are not a conversation she wants to have before noon. Or really ever. “But I’m serious, Adam. And whoever else needs to hear it. Feelings can shift and feel and look different overtime, but losing them completely? I don’t know. It’s heartbreaking to hear from someone who used to be such a big part of your life.”

“Commitment is scary,” Cole pipes up. “And it’s hard. Especially, I feel like, with what we do.”

It’s like getting a bucket of ice cold water dumped on her when she suddenly remembers who exactly she’s surrounded by.

“Do you even want commitment?” Amelie blinks. “Sorry, that’s harsh. That’s not fair of me to ask.”

“It’s a fair question though, I think.” Jack says. Amelie suddenly feels her hands clam up. “I mean, for me at least, I think it’s changed throughout the years. You know, at the start, like five years ago, when it was still chaotic and still an adjustment period, a relationship probably wasn’t on my mind.”

“But now?” Cole presses.

Jack shrugs. “I think so. But you can’t force it, you know?”

“A relationship would do you well, Jacky.” Luke says, taking a sip of his water. “Don’t know who’d want to deal with you though.” Jack throws his half-filled water bottle at him and Luke squeaks as everyone laughs. Jack nudges Amelie’s knee with a light smile and she has absolutely no idea what to make of that.

“I didn’t know you were dating someone, Adam,” Amelie comments.

Adam shrugs. “It was for most of last season. Met her through a mutual friend of a mutual friend. I thought it was going well. Clearly it didn’t work out.”

“But you tried your best?”

“Of course I did. Well, what I thought was best at the time.”

“Then that’s all you can do,” Amelie curls up in her chair. “Sometimes our best isn’t enough. It sucks to hear, but it’s true. And that’s not on you.” She avidly avoids Jack’s eyes that she can feel boring into the side of her head. She should probably stop talking before she reveals more than she wants to.

Luckily, the conversation steers elsewhere with courtesy to Jack. “Well, what do you look for in someone, Amelie?”

Amelie snorts. “You trying to matchmake for me, Hughes?”

“Maybe.”

Everyone laughs and she puts her chin on her hands in thought. “I mean, tough question.”

“One thing. That shouldn’t be hard.”

“It’s not. Just give me a minute to think. I wasn’t prepared to be talking about our love lives today.” Amelie bites her lip, staring out at the lake in thought. But in reality, it’s an easy answer. “I think, honestly, the biggest thing for me is someone who’s just, kind. Kind to the point where they care about the people around them and how they treat others and the world and….I don’t know. It sounds dumb.”

“It’s not,” Jack says. “Being kind and considerate is underrated, I think. It’s hard to find people like that.”

“Or maybe you’re not looking in the right place,” Alex adds.

“That too.”

Amelie summons some courage. “Well, I’ll flip the question back to you then. And anyone else who wants to answer. What’s one thing you look for in a partner?”

It’s like Jack makes sure she doesn’t break eye contact before answering. “Honestly? Someone I can have fun with and feel completely comfortable around. Which I know isn’t a real trait, but I think if I feel like I don’t have to pretend at all with somebody then they’re worth keeping in my life.”

“That’s quite sweet, Rowdy,” Quinn comments, Jack just shrugs, her eyes still on hers.

Okay, yeah. Amelie needs space. Or water. Or three shots of vodka.

The universe listens to her, because Ruth is suddenly calling them all in. Amelie bolts out of her seat and rushes in to help set up utensils. Thankfully, no one outwardly calls her out on it as they all trickle in after her. The conversation shifts to easier topics, and she relishes in being more of an observer than a contributor.

Along with the delicious lasagna, Ruth somehow found time to make some brownies which Amelie is almost sure is not allowed in any of their diet plans. Nonetheless, she watches them devour the gooey treats and shower Ruth in praise. She herself has one before standing up to put dishes away. She and her grandmother stop any of them, either with their eyes or words, from getting up and they all reluctantly sink in their seats and continue their conversations. Ruth asked them about going to Michigan a few minutes ago and they’re still on that, with Cole and Alex talking up Wisconsin even though no one asked.

Amelie’s putting the last dish in the dishwasher when someone’s voice in the kitchen causes her to yelp in surprise. She whips around to see Jack’s wince. “Jesus, Jack. Warn a girl next time.”

“Sorry,” he comes around the counter. “I just wanted to see if you needed any help, but it seems like you got it covered.”

“Grandma let you get away?”

“I might have told her I was gonna use the bathroom,” he admits.

Amelie snorts, shutting the dishwasher. “Why lie?”

“I wanted to see you without everyone’s eyes on us.”

When someone just says that, so honestly, almost rushed out as if he wasn’t thinking of saying it in the first place but it just slipped out, how is she supposed to react, really?

She resorts to what she knows best. Apathy. “Well, here I am.”

“Here you are. Quinn told me you taught him how to make those cookies.”

“I did,” a smile peeks out at that. “He did pretty well. And we made a lot, so please take them with you when you guys leave.”

“Kicking us out so soon?”

“No,” she sighs. “But as much as she’s gonna pretend not to, Grandma doesn’t have as much energy anymore, so I will at some point in the near future gently kick all of you out so she can rest.”

“No worries,” Jack says. “We have plans to head out on the boat anyways. You wanna join?”

She actually does want to, but she already had her own plans to have a day for herself, and those days are important. “I think I’m good. I’ll leave you boys to it. But thank you for the offer.”

“Anytime.” They’re practically touching now, but Amelie doesn’t mind. She doesn’t ever feel like Jack is encroaching on her space. “Earlier, outside, when we were talking about relationships…”

“What about them?”

If he catches her clipped tone, he doesn’t take note. Instead, he tilts his head to the side in curiosity. “You mentioned wanting someone that’s kind.”

“I did.”

“A bit of a low bar, no?”

She scoffs, leaning her back against the kitchen counter. She crosses her arms and looks him straight in the eye. “Well, maybe I’ve just dated some shitty people.”

He holds the eye contact steady. She’s not sure why it surprises her. “Maybe you have.”

Despite herself, she’s amused. “You’re awfully nosy sometimes, you know that?”

“Not the first time I’ve heard it.”

“Does it usually work for you? Being nosy?”

“I call it just being interested.”

She swallows, deciding if she wants to push. She takes note of the voices in the other room. If she wants to push, she needs to do it fast.

Amelie’s 99% sure this is where her and Jack are the most alike. They’re stubborn and can never back down from a challenge.

She steps even closer to him where she thinks she catches a whiff of his deodorant. Jack’s eyes are still trained on her, passive, but with something in them that she can’t quite read. “I did, by the way.”

“Hm?”

“Date someone shitty.”

“I’m sorry about that.” He sounds sincere about it.

“Not your fault.”

“Not yours either.”

She chuckles, “Debatable.”

“Nah,” a smile curls at his lips and she thinks it’s beautiful. “Don’t think you’ve done anything wrong in your life.”

“Does the charm usually work for you?”

He lets out a loud laugh. The sound of it spreads warmth on her skin. “You tell me.”

Oh. That’s a challenge if Amelie’s ever heard one. But even with his close proximity, this building tension of sorts that’s been present ever since they’ve met and his watchful but kind eyes, waiting for the next move, she’s still not sure.

Fuck it.

She kisses him anyway.

Jack responds immediately, his hands finding a home on her hips in a way that has her smiling into his lips. She thinks he’s smiling too, but she pulls away too quickly to really know. He is grinning when she pulls away though, a sparkle in his eye she hasn’t seen quite yet.

He pouts playfully and she wants to kiss him again. But she restrains herself and glares at him instead. “What’s the pout for?”

“What’s the glare for?” He shoots back, squeezing her hips lightly. “You kissed me yet I feel like you’re about to accuse me of killing Suzie.”

“Suzie would probably kill you first,” she replies absentmindedly, before stepping away. Mostly so she doesn’t lose control again and kiss him.

Amelie might be starting to question her decision, but Jack’s smile is easy. Light. “You gonna let me kiss you again?”

She snorts, but it’s more fond than anything. “Next time.”

He sticks his bottom lip out in displeasure, but he backs away. “I’m holding you to that.”

She follows him back to the kitchen with a light pep in her step paired with an alarm bell in her mind.

day twenty - jack

Jack automatically smiles when Clementine Sandoval’s face appears on his phone screen. “Hey Clee.”

“Jacky!” She exclaims. “You look tan.”

He gasps in delight. “Really? Thank you.”

His pseudo-older sister rolls her eyes, “Nevermind. I take it back. How are you? What’s up? How’s Michigan? Where are Q and Lukey?”

He chuckles at her onslaught of questions, a pang of guilt in his heart because he hasn’t called her that much since he left New Jersey mid-June. To be fair, he didn’t want to interrupt her trip to visit her new boyfriend in Switzerland — Jack still has to remind himself sometimes that his captain is dating someone who he’s considered a sister ever since he can remember. He loves it, but the fact that Nico could basically become his brother-in-law is a fact he still hasn’t wrapped his head around.

But that pang of guilt washes away quickly, like it always does, as he looks at her warm smile. “I’m good. Michigan’s great. Quinn’s out getting groceries and Luke’s probably still napping. Are you busy?”

“Not at all. I’m just making dinner. I actually do miss you guys at the apartment a lot.”

Jack grins. “We miss you a lot too, Clee. Wish you were here.”

“So what’s up?”

“Hm?”

“You’re chewing on your drawstrings. You only do that when something’s on your mind.”

He lets the drawstrings fall from his mouth as he narrows his eyes. “How do you know that?”

She snorts, “Because I know you, Jack. What’s going on?”

The sound of her sink water running fills the air as Jack takes a deep breath. “I met a girl.”

He snickers as Clementine, with her back towards the camera, freezes. Slowly, she turns back around. “You met a girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” she starts chopping some garlic. “Tell me about her.”

“Her name’s Amelie. She’s a year younger than me. Just graduated from Michigan. She knows Luke, actually, used to photograph the hockey games.”

“She knows Luke?”

“Yeah. Her grandparents just bought a place two houses down from us and she was walking the dog one day and…yeah.”

Clementine hums, clearing the chopped garlic off her knife and into a small bowl. “What’s she like?”

“She’s a bit quieter, but quick and sarcastic as hell when you get to know her. She’s creative, because, you know, photographer. She’s really pretty. Hang on, I’ll send you a picture,” Jack does just that, sending one he took of her and Adam the other night, waiting for Clementine to look at it before he continues. “She’s always saying something really interesting and cool. I don’t know. We’ve been hanging out a lot the last two weeks and she’s just, really great.”

“You met two weeks ago?”

“More or less.” Jack bites his lip, trying to read the abnormally-unreadable look on her face. “What?”

“Nothing. She just graduated? Any plans after post-grad?”

“Said she’s talking to a few NHL teams for a photographer gig.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “For real?”

“Yup.”

“Damn,” Clementine says. “That’s awesome. So what? You like her?”

“I think so?”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“Fine. Yes. I do.”

She smirks. “That wasn’t so hard, was it now?” Jack glares at his phone as she giggles. “Okay. Does she like you back?”

“She kissed me the other day.”

“Oh,” Clementine’s eyes sparkle and Jack feels bashful for some reason. “Did she now? So she must.”

“Hopefully.”

She gives him a look. “Jack.”

“What?”

“You’re being annoying on purpose.”

“I’m not being annoying,” Jack responds instinctively. Okay, maybe he is. “I just, I don’t know. I haven’t felt like this in awhile. Maybe ever.”

“Felt like what, exactly?”

And this is why Jack called the older brunette. She pushes him in a way that isn’t overbearing, but just the right amount where she’s not gonna take getting brushed off. Sometimes, Jack thinks he gets away with brushing things off too easily. Blame it on growing up with two brothers. Luckily, Clementine doesn’t let that happen.

“Felt this excited about someone.”

“That’s a good thing, Jack.” She says.

“Yeah.” Suddenly, it’s like a dam breaks. He hasn’t really talked to anyone about how exactly he feels about Amelie yet. “She’s…..I think I really like her, Clee. Like, I just want to be around her all the time. When I’m around her, I just, I don’t know. I can’t stop smiling.

“She must be some girl.”

“She is,” he responds confidently.

“So now what? You two have kissed. What’s next? Labels or no?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.”

“No. I don’t.” Silence. Clementine stops the movement on her end and looks at Jack. He swallows. It’s the kind of look that she only pulls out when she’s about to say something he might not want to hear. “What?” He says defensively.

“Nothing. Well, that’s not true. It’s okay to not know. You guys literally just met. Really. Just…be careful. I’m sure she’s lovely, but I don’t..you seem to really like her. I’d hate to see you get hurt over this.”

“I won’t,” Jack says confidently. “Clee, you know me. I don’t get my heart broken.”

“You also don’t get like this about girls,” Clementine points out. “And you know how I know that? You’ve known Amelie for two weeks and you’re already telling me about her. It took you three months for you to even mention to me that you had a girlfriend last time. Just…be careful, okay? You’re only in Michigan for so much longer.”

“I will,” Jack says.

Clementine only nods, before they switch the conversation back to her trip to Switzerland. But the rest of the conversation, Jack can’t help but keep seeing Clementine’s worried look in her mind.

Clementine’s usually right. He hopes she’s wrong this time.

day twenty three - amelie

Amelie takes a deep breath before accepting a good luck hug from her grandparents and shutting the front door. She smiles at the sight of Jack’s car and slides over into his passenger seat with practiced ease.

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“We’re literally going to the same place.”

“Still.”

Jack backs out of her driveway with an easy smile. “You nervous?”

Like, yeah. But she shrugs. “Even if I am, nothing I can do about it now.”

“You’ll get the job,” he says confidently. “I know it.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she chuckles. “Where are Quinn and Luke? Don’t you all practice together?”

“Yeah. I forced them to take another car.”

“You didn’t have to kick them out.”

“I think I did.” She just gives him a look. Jack smiles easily. “Don’t worry about it. Remind me of the address again?”

She wordlessly connects her phone to his car and puts in the address of the cafe she’s meeting Heather at. 47 minute drive and she has to be there at 10 a.m. sharp. She’ll have around ten minutes to spare.

It’s clear they both woke up not long ago, content to spend most of the drive in comfortable silence with her occasional humming to whatever song she has playing from her phone. It’s mostly softer tunes to accompany the earlier hour, Maggie Rogers, Lizzy McAlpine and Noah Kahan appearing the most frequently. She’s 99% sure this isn’t close to Jack’s style of music at all, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

As he turns off the highway, she takes a deep breath, smoothing down her silk navy short-sleeved blouse she’s deemed her good-luck shirt — she wore it during her first interview with the NHL months ago. Luckily, it’s different people this time.

“I’m serious,” Jack says. “You’re gonna be great and you’re gonna get that job and get the fuck out of Michigan.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” They pull up to the cafe and she turns to face him with a grateful smile. “Thank you for driving me.”

“I’ll come by as soon as practice is done.”

She waves him off. “Take your time.”

He leans in to kiss her cheek sweetly. “Good luck. You’re gonna kill it.”

Her stomach is flipping now for a whole different reason. She quickly opens the passenger door and looks at Jack’s sweet smile one more time before shutting it.

The interview goes…so well. So well that she has a job by the end of it, with a promised contract being sent to her email within the next hour. But she barely has to answer any questions before they’re asking her if she’ll take it. It catches Amelie by complete shock and happiness that it takes so much for her to keep her cool in front of Josh, her possible future manager, and Sasha, the recruiter she’s been in touch with this whole time.

All of her hard work has accounted for something? She wants to pinch herself as she shakes both of their hands and watches them walk out.

But something settles in her stomach when she looks down at the notes she took. In her cursive-like handwriting.

Main coverage teams: Rangers, Islanders, Flyers, Devils

Staring at the last word on the page, she swallows. The Devils. She’s gonna be photographing Jack.

Realistically, she knew that this always would’ve been a possibility. But she never let herself entertain the idea.

But now it’s real. And it’s terrifying. And she kissed Jack eight days ago. She wants to throw up.

With shaky hands, she texts Jack that she’s done. He doesn’t respond right away so she takes a deep breath, tapping her fingers against her coffee cup, her brain going a million miles an hour.

She’s responding to her family’s texts before Jack’s name flashes through with the alert of a call. “Hello?”

“Well?” Jack’s voice echoes through her ears. “Did you get it?”

“Come pick me up and find out,” she tries to tease. She hopes he can’t detect her shaky voice over the phone.

“Amelie,” he whines. “Come on. You can’t leave me hanging like that.”

She lets out a quiet chuckle. “Do you think I’d be this happy if I didn’t get it?”

A pause. And then, “Let’s fucking go, baby! I knew you had it in the bag.”

“Come pick me up so I can tell you more about it,” she mutters

“You got it.”

11 minutes later, she sees Jack park by the curb and she walks out of the cafe, willing her hands to stop sweating. He quickly comes around the car and gives her a giant hug. She laughs as he lifts her up.

“So,” he sings as he starts the engine. “Do you know with what team? Or teams?”

Amelie hopes her poker face is intact. “Actually, not yet. That’s the only thing they haven’t fully settled on yet. And I might not know until, like, a month before I start.”

He tuts. “That’s a bit annoying. They just expect you to move to wherever on such short notice?”

She swallows roughly, hoping he doesn’t notice. “I guess. They said they can help me find housing though, which is helpful.”

He hums, before shaking her thigh with a laugh. “Amelie. This is amazing. You should be so proud of yourself.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Instead of turning onto the highway, Jack takes a right. “Where are we going?”

“Do you have anywhere else to be today?”

“Not until like, 4.”

“Perfect.”

She has to laugh out loud when the USA Hockey arena comes into view. “You forget something?”

“No,” he says simply. “Have you ever skated before?”

“I photographed your younger brother at Michigan.”

“But that doesn’t mean you’ve skated.”

Fair. “I have. I’m not very good though.”

He kills the engine and flashes her a charming smile. “Come on. To celebrate.”

Amelie lets Jack charm the person working the rentals and watches him tie the skates on her feet, smiling softly as he does it carefully, making sure they’re tight enough. She takes his hand as she steps onto the ice, wobbling a bit but quickly gaining her balance. There’s no one else at this particular rink, which she’s thankful for. People would have questions, and she doesn’t have any of the answers.

She lets herself laugh and have fun as Jack spins them around. She takes a deep breath, letting the smells and sounds of an empty hockey arena fill her senses again.

This is gonna be her future for the next while. If she thinks too hard, she can picture herself in Newark, in the Prudential Center, with Jack across from her, just like this. She swallows at the sight of Jack’s bright eyes.

Main coverage teams: Rangers, Islanders, Flyers, Devils

“You’re amazing,” Jack says a bit later, as they’re gliding in the middle of the ice, her hands in his, facing each other. “I’m serious. You’re going to crush it.”

She tries not to tear up, looking down at their skates. “I’m really excited,” she says. “This is, kind of, everything I’ve been working towards.”

“I know,” Jack smiles, tugging at her hands lightly. “You nervous at all?”

“A bit. Is that weird?”

He snorts. “No. I was scared shitless my rookie year, despite trying to act like hot shit.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“But you’re not me, because you’re healthily humble and you have the talent to back up your skill. It’s okay to be nervous, but it’s all gonna work out just fine.”

She hums, hands boldly reaching out to cup his face. She only has so much time left. She swears he softens into her touch. “Quite good at the pep talks, huh?”

“Not usually,” he murmurs, leaning closer as his lips ghost hers. “But, I don’t know. You seem to bring out a different side of me.”

“That’s sappy as shit.”

“I can be sappy.”

“Sure you can.” She hums as he presses a delicate kiss on her lips. She chuckles airily as he pulls away only to start peppering kisses on her cheeks.

For a bit, Amelie squashes her overthinking and just breathes in everything Jack Hughes.

(Unbeknownst to both Amelie and Jack, Jim sees them from the offices upstairs. He smiles to himself, as he watches his son spin the brunette girl around the ice, the joy palpable on both their faces)

day twenty five - jack

He doesn’t even bother to come up with an excuse anymore when he shows up on Stanley and Ruth’s front door the next morning. He accepts a cup of coffee when Ruth tells him Amelie’s in the shower, chatting casually with them both about the weather, golf, his family and the upcoming season.

When Amelie comes down the stairs, she doesn’t even look surprised, simply waving before tossing her hair up and grabbing her bag. She mentioned over text that she just had to run some “boring” errands today. He jumped at the chance to join her.

With some argument, she relents and lets him drive. He has to stop himself from looking over at her, overwhelmed at…her. Just her.

The grocery store first to get groceries for Stanley and Ruth, which causes Jack to swallow because God, the way Amelie takes care of the people in her life reminds him of Clementine, who always saw the best in Jack before he was anything.

Then a stop by at a farm to table place for lunch where Amelie says she’s been dying to try. Then Target, then CVS, then the bank. They never really hold hands, but they’re always in each other’s orbit comfortably. That’s enough for him.

Before being done for the day, a quick detour to a small beach that Amelie claims has “incredible sunsets.” He follows her obediently as she jumps out of the car with her film camera. The sunset is beautiful, but, and it’s so cliche and gross and he would get chirped to hell if his friends could read his mind, Amelie’s prettier.

He can’t help but take out his phone to take a picture of her back against the cotton candy sky. He always posts some sort of a summer dump on his Instagram. Maybe this picture will go in there.

day thirty two - amelie

“Who’s gonna be there again?”

“Honestly, who knows at this point?” Jack’s voice floods her ears through her airpods as she takes Susie on a walk and Jack’s driving back from who knows where.

“And this is tonight?”

“Yup. Because it’s someone’s birthday? Ethan’s, maybe?”

“Not Eddy,” she responds automatically. “His birthday’s in June.”

“I forget how close you two are.”

“To be fair, the only reason I remember is because he’s like, five days older than I am,” Amelie shushes Susie, who’s barking at a squirrel. “And you’re all gathering at some sort of sports bar at fucking Ann Arbor of all places to… celebrate? Reminisce?”

She can practically hear Jack’s pout. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she chides gently. “I, just, I’m just confused about-”

“Confused about what?”

“About why you’d want me there.”

“Why wouldn’t I want you there?” Jack says softly.

She swallows, playing with Susie’s leash. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome,” she knows Jack’s smiling through the phone and she can’t help but smile as well, even though she feels a pit forming in her stomach. “I’m DDing because I lost a bet against Luke on the course yesterday, so you can go as hard as you’d like.” A rustle on his end of the phone. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later?”

“What time are you coming?”

“Around 7:30?”

“Perfect.”

“See you soon.”

Amelie hears him pull up at 7:23 as she’s scrolling on her phone. A deep breath before opening the door and she doesn’t expect Jack to be walking up her steps.

“Oh,” she blinks. “Hi.”

Jack smiles up at her. “Hey.”

She looks beyond his shoulder and sees some movement in the backseat of the running car. “You didn’t have to step out.”

“Feels impolite just honking.” She lets him wrap her in a quick hug before she slips into the passenger seat. She turns around immediately to smile at Ethan, Luke and Dylan. “Hi boys. You sure none of you wanna take the front seat?”

“We are under strict orders from Jack that as long as you’re in the car, we will be banished to the back,” Luke snickers.

Jack blindly reaches back to smack his brother’s leg. “I’m already driving you losers. Don’t make me regret it.”

Luke gasps. “I’m not the one who lost the bet.” Another slap to the leg from Jack and another yelp from Luke.

Once they reach the bar and Jack somehow finds street parking, the boys pile out quickly and head to the bar. Her and Jack stray behind, and he locks the car before swinging an arm around her shoulder, sneaking a kiss to her temple.

She shouldn’t, but she leans into it. Leans into him. The bustling bar is coming into view and she’s getting nervous.

He pokes at her side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He offers her a skeptical look but lets it go. “You’ll know most of the people there. No need to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” she lies.

He snorts, but doesn’t respond. He does pull her closer to his side though.

Immediately when they walk in and Amelie realizes she has been here before. Not many times, maybe only three or four, but enough for the environment itself to not be unfamiliar. She surveys the scene while letting Jack steer them both towards a corner where both people she knows and doesn’t know are gathering. The first person she makes eye contact with happens to be Carina Scholl, a girl she went to high school with. Because of course. This state is so damn small. Before she can spiral over it, Amelie’s quickly distracted by the sound of Mark Estapa’s voice.

And then it’s like a floodgate opens. Members of the Michigan Men’s hockey team, present and past, greet her, standing in a sort of messy line, almost like they’re queuing to hug her. It starts with Mark, then Rutger and Kienan and Luca. Then Mackie and Nolan, who she hasn’t seen in far too long and didn’t realize she missed until now.

She feels quite touched that they all seem so excited to see her, wrinkling her nose when Rutger pulls her ponytail lightly. When everyone calms down, Jack slides her favorite cider towards her. She smiles at him in thanks and he just winks before being pulled into a conversation about hockey that honestly has Amelie immediately tuning them out.

She ventures to familiar territory — a booth housing Ethan and Luke — and they happily let her slide between them, introducing her to the faces she doesn’t recognize as she politely nods. She does brighten up when one of the girls, Sarah, she notes, says she recognizes her from her photography. (“I was on the gymnastics team. My family might have one of your photos framed in the house.”).

Photography and Michigan. Those are topics Amelie can talk about.

After a bit, the boys slide out and she finds herself gravitating towards Sarah and two of her friends Amelie doesn’t know, content with sitting back and listening into their conversation, with some comments here and there. She spots two more girls she went to high school with — Shannon and Abby — and swallows roughly. She’s pulled back in the conversation with a call of her name from Madison.

“I saw that you came in with Jack Hughes,” Madison says. Immediately, Amelie wants this conversation to end. But Madison’s smile is curious, not malicious. “Are you two…you know?”

Amelie blinks, stomach suddenly dropping. “Are we…”

“Together,” Sarah finishes with a teasing eye roll. “I don’t know why you didn’t just say it, Maddy.”

“I didn’t want to be impolite!” Madison exclaims as Ellie, the third girl, laughs. “I mean, we just met. It’s none of my business, really.”

“We’re not,” Amelie says, softly but firmly, even though she wants to crawl under the table right now. “Friends through Luke, I guess. Found out my grandparents live by him and Quinn’s place just a few weeks ago.”

“You hadn’t met beforehand?”

“Nope.”

“Huh,” Ellie says. Amelie follows Ellie’s eyeline to where Jack is talking to Adam. With a High Noon in one hand, the other shoved into the pocket of his jeans and that stupid backwards cap on his head, Amelie can’t look away. “I wouldn’t have predicted that. It seems like you’ve known each other forever.”

Amelie laughs shakily. “He’s like that with everyone.”

The girls let it go, but Amelie can’t. Is it that obvious to people? Should it be? Is he like this with everyone? It wouldn’t surprise her if he was. Just because they’ve kissed, doesn’t mean she’s anything special.

After a bit, she excuses herself to go grab another drink. If Jack is also at the bar as she approaches, that’s just a coincidence.

It’s interesting. She simultaneously wants to be away from him, especially because it seems like “Main coverage teams: Rangers, Islanders, Flyers, Devils” is flashing through her mind at all times. But she also wants to be around him because he makes her feel at ease

She nods at Luca, who Jack was talking to, with a wry smile. “Luca.”

“Amelie,” he sings in the same tone. Amelie considers herself closer to the younger Fantilli, but Luca’s constant positive energy was always a welcome sight when she entered Yost. “You look beautiful.”

“That’s kind of you to say.”

“I feel like you’re about to yell at me for not answering the question again.”

“That was one time,” she says dryly. “Let it go.”

Jack looks between the two of them with interest. “Amelie being a strict TA? That doesn’t surprise me.”

“She wasn’t strict, perse,” Luca teases. “Just didn’t want to deal with our shit.”

“Because I dealt with it enough at the rink,” Amelie says. She brightens up momentarily when Jack shoves another cider in her hand. Without thinking, she presses a quick kiss on his cheek as a thank you. Luca, to his credit, just raises his eyebrows before Gavin beckons him elsewhere.

She pokes at Jack’s chest. “You trying to loosen me up? You didn’t have to buy me another.”

“I told you to go crazy, didn’t I?”

“I think I’ve spotted three people here who went to my high school.”

Jack just raises an eyebrow casually. “No shit. Did you say hi?”

Amelie snorts. “No.”

“Why not?”

She gives him a look and realizes he doesn’t understand. She doesn’t want to get into it. “I just don’t feel like it.”

“You sure?” He nods at something behind her and she turns around, making eye contact with Carina.

She turns back around to face Jack again. “I’m sure.”

(She’s not. She’s not sure about anything all of a sudden. It’s starting to feel like too much for her. But that’s not Jack’s problem to deal with)

“Okay,” he stops pushing. “Who should we tackle talking to next?”

“Didn’t know this was a team effort,” she teases lightly, the weight on her shoulders deflating by the second.

He readjusts his hair under his hat with a roguish grin. “Hey. I dragged you here. And these are mostly Luke’s friends. Of course we’re in this together.”

She rolls her eyes. Because he’s a liar. But she humors him, nodding over to a group consisting of Rutger, his girlfriend Kayleigh, Nolan, Mackie and Mark. “They seem safe.” Jack snorts, but obliges, letting her lead the way.

More time passes, and Amelie’s buzzed. Jack mutters in her ear that they’re probably gonna head out within the next 20 minutes or so, which she could’ve predicted, as their crowd is getting smaller and smaller. Adam already smacked a kiss on her cheek as a farewell. She figures she should probably go pee before the drive back.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, she walks out and pauses suddenly in her tracks. She watches a girl blatantly flirt with Jack, which is fine, it is. The frog she has in her throat isn’t anything. The prickling she feels in her spine is because of the heat, not because of the girl’s hand placed on his bicep. She can’t even let herself feel any sort of satisfaction when Jack casually shifts himself a bit away from her politely.

It suddenly all hits her in the face. It’s like the bubble she’s been living in for the last however many days has immediately popped.

Of course he’s being flirted with. This probably happens everytime he goes out. How could she be so stupid?

Jack’s never going to be anything more than a friend. He’s based out of New Jersey for most of the year — which, to be fair, Amelie might also be in a few months, which he still doesn’t know — and Amelie’s 99% sure it just wouldn’t work. They’re too…he’s him and she’s who she is and this isn’t how it all works.

Sure, she kissed him first. But she didn’t mean for it to go this far. And sure, he kissed her back. But he’s one of the biggest up and coming superstars in the league that she’s about to work for. To some degree, she knows how this is gonna end. She’s lived through it.

(Sometimes, she’s relieved that MLB never got back to her. The idea of having to photograph Cooper almost makes bile creep up her throat._

She has to stop this before it crashes at their feet.

Amelie takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders, before making her way back to Jack. He looks towards her and brightens up, excusing himself from the girl before jumping off his stool with her jacket she asked him to hold while she went to the bathroom.

“Ready to go?” He mutters.

Amelie nods stiffly. “Where are the others?”

“I told them to wait by the car. Do you need to say goodbye to anybody else?”

She looks around. “No. I did my rounds before I went to the bathroom.” He hums and she follows him out of the bar. ignoring his outstretched hand.

(She misses the flash of hurt that passes by Jack’s eyes. But it’s gone as quickly as it came)

“Thanks again for coming with me,” Jack says, his voice suddenly sounding so loud contrasting with the quiet Ann Arbor air. “Really. I know it’s not your scene but I appreciate it anyways.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, hoping he doesn’t pick up on her sudden change of mood.

He does, furrowing his eyebrows. “Is everything alright?”

“Fine. Everything is fine.”

“You’re lying to me.”

She doesn’t quite snap back, but it’s close enough to it. “How would you know that?”

He blanches slightly, but they’re at the car. So he just wordlessly opens the door for her. She smiles softly at Ethan, who ruffles her hair from the back and snorts at Dylan and Luke, who are sleeping with their mouths wide open.

The drive goes by extremely quickly yet painfully slow at the same time. Amelie actively avoids eye contact with Jack, busying staring out her window and making mindless conversation with Ethan. If he feels the tension. he ignores it.

Jack pulls up to his place first, rolling his eyes as Luke, Dylan and Ethan clamber into the house. As soon as the door shuts, Jack turns to her. She reluctantly turns to him.

“Are you okay?” His eyes hold so much concern. It makes Amelie bite her lip. “And please be honest with me.”

“I’m fine, Jack,” she croaks out. She’s a bit tipsy. She’s very tired. Her resolve is crumbling fast. She feels like she’s running out of time. “I think I’m just overstimulated.”

“I’ll drive you home,” he says softly. He places a gentle kiss on her forehead and it takes everything in Amelie not to let her eyes tear up.

He’s barely backed out of his driveway when she can’t take it anymore. “Rangers, Islanders, Flyers, Devils.”

Silence. “What?” He says.

“Rangers, Islanders, Flyers, Devils,” she repeats, trying to keep her voice steady. “Those are the teams I’m covering.”

He parks in her grandparents’ driveway, killing the engine. “Did you just find this out today?”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “No. I’ve known since I got the official offer.”

The silence washes over her like the most destructive tidal wave. “You lied to me?” He whispers.

“I’m so-”

“Why did you lie to me?” He asks in a hurt voice.

“Jack-”

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” She snaps her mouth shut. That gives him his answer. He swallows roughly, running a hand through his hair. “So what? You were gonna just walk in during media day and pretend we haven’t met before?”

“That’s not fair,” she manages to get out.

“Pretend we haven’t kissed before?” Jack presses on.

That makes the fire in Amelie’s stomach flame. “We’ve known each other for like, a month, Jack. I don’t owe you anything.”

He scoffs. “You don’t think so?” She flinches at his harsh tone and he softens a bit with a sigh. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

There’s plenty of reasons why. Many of which Amelie doesn’t want to say out loud. She settles for: “I mean, would it have mattered?” Her voice cracks. “You were always going to go back to Jersey and I was always gonna leave Michigan and whatever this was would’ve only lasted for so long.”

“Whatever this is?” Jack repeats, tilting his head back against the headrest in frustration. “So what? You thought that we’d go back to our regular lives and all of this would just…be forgotten?”

“I don’t know,” she says, frustrated.

“But you clearly thought about it.”

“Of course I did,” she squeezes her eyes shut. “Jack, you’re…you’re Jack Hughes. I don’t necessarily care about it like that but I know you have a franchise on your shoulders and you’re the best of the best and we met under weird coincidences and I’m glad we have, believe me, but this always had a timer on it.”

“What exactly is ‘this?’” The roughness in his voice has Amelie simultaneously feeling like she wants to cry and scream. Jack laughs humorlessly. “And it’s funny you bring up all that shit now, considering you never for once cared about who I was and all of that since the day we met.”

“I don’t care,” Amelie insists. “In fact, it’s probably the thing about you I care the least about, in the nicest way possible. But whether we both like it or not, it’s a huge part of who you are. And I don’t know if I…”

“If you?”

“If I have a place in your life when it comes to that.”

“Because of what I do? Because of my job?”

Amelie scoffs. “Stop trying to underplay what you do and the impact you have on the league, Jack. I may have just met you a month ago but I, in some way, work in the same fucking industry you do. I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not stupid,” he rolls his eyes. “You’re probably one of the smartest people I’ve met in my life. I’m not trying to underplay anything. At the end of the day, hockey is just my job. LIke photography is yours. I don’t see how that has anything to do with us.”

“Well, maybe that’s exactly the problem.”

Jack huffs. “It’s my life. Shouldn’t I have a say in if I want you in it or not?”

And sure, Amelie thinks, Jack has a point, but so does she, even if she’s not explaining it well. She turns in her seat to fully face him and tries a different angle. Tries to get him to understand. “Have you thought about this at all? Like, sat down and really thought about what’s gonna happen when we both leave Michigan? Jack, you know I don’t want to come back unless I have to.”

“What does that have to do with us at all?”

“Jack,” she deadpans. “You love this place. You feel the most comfortable here, you told me that yourself. All I want to do is get out here and all you want to do is stay.” She deflates. “You really didn’t think about the future of any of this?”

“Yes! No. Maybe?” Jack raises his voice in frustration. “I just-I enjoyed, enjoy, spending time together. You kind of make me forget how to think when I’m around you in the best way possible. And I want to be around you all the time. Isn’t that enough?”

“I still don’t even know what we are! Friends? Friends who kiss sometimes? Dating? Hooking up because it’s convenient?”

He blanches. It’s the most hurt he’s looked this whole conversation. “Amelie-” he whispers.

“I know I’m being unfair, but please try to understand my reasoning,” she wipes her tears with the sleeve of her top. “I was already up for this job before I met you. And then I met you. And then I thought, oh, maybe I do care about where I end up. Wouldn’t that be nice and convenient? But we’ve known each other for a month. And I’m not gonna let someone I’ve only known for so long dictate the start of this really important moment for me.”

“I wouldn’t have ever asked you to do that,” Jack says meekly. “I know how important your career is to you.”

“And I believe that,” Amelie softens with a swallow. They’re not getting anywhere productive. “I-I’m sorry, Jack. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“But you did,” he says. He runs his hand roughly through his hair again. The curls are beginning to become very unruly. “Was this whole month just, I don’t know, were we not on the same page?”

“Maybe we weren’t,” she bites her quivering lip. “I like you, Jack. I do. But I can’t…I can’t do this. Us. Whatever this is.”

Silence, before his voice cracks. “Now or ever?”

“I don’t know,” she sniffles. “I’m sorry.” She cries, rubbing her eyes roughly with the palms of her hand. She knows this is all her fault. She knows this isn’t the only thing he kept from him. She knows that she’s been cautious telling him important things about herself this whole time, where he’s been nothing but fearless and honest. She knows she fucked up.

But she can’t say any of that out loud. He wouldn’t get it. And maybe she doesn’t really want him to. Isn’t ready for him to

She feels his hand on her cheek, which causes her to cry harder, her tears falling cascading onto his fingers. Through blurry vision, she can see him swallowing roughly. “Can I say one last thing?”

She can’t help but let out a weak laugh. “Sure.”

“A few weeks ago, you asked me if the top was a lonely place to be. And you know, it can be a lot,” he admits. Her heart aches at how vulnerable he’s being. “My brothers and teammates and friends understand mostly, but it’s not the same. Y-you’re the first person in a long time who's made me feel like it doesn’t have to be lonely.”

That causes Amelie to cry even harder. Every part of her is fighting her to fight for him. To keep groveling, even though it doesn’t even seem like he wants that, which is somehow even more heartbreaking. To fill in the gaps for him about why she can’t fully let go and let him in. But she can’t. “I-I’m sorry I lied to you. And I’m sorry it had to be this way,” she croaks out.

“Me too,” he says, backing away slightly. She misses his touch instantly. “I-I’ll give you some space and n-not contact you for awhile. Um, you have my number. When…if you ever wanna reach me, you know how to.”

Her heart splices in half completely. She’s the one who lied to him and he’s the one offering space. Amelie knows she’s selfish for asking her final question, but she does it anyways. “And you’d pick up?”

Jack laughs with a watery smile, “Every time.”

It takes all her willpower to not kiss him one last time. She unbuckles her seatbelt and rushes into her grandparents house. She closes the front door and leans her back on it, sliding down and muffles her cries into her hand.

day thirty three - jack

Everything hurts.

That’s the first thing Jack thinks when his eyes blearily open with the sun. His eyes hurt from crying too many freaking times the last few days. His ribs hurt from where Luke checked him into the boards yesterday. It wasn’t even a particularly hard hit, but Jack’s head was anywhere but the ice and he didn’t see it coming until it was too late.

And his heart just…hurts.

Luckily, they have the day off today so he can sulk without feeling too guilty. Maybe he’ll take the boat out into the water by himself and just lay there. He hears some voices downstairs and squeezes his eyes shut to try and decipher them. Quinn, Luke, Dylan and Ethan. The latter two obviously don’t know him as well, but Jack knows them well enough that they’d probably actually be really nice about Jack’s situation. Especially because Ethan’s close to…yeah.

Jack launches himself out of bed, quickly brushes his teeth and splashes some water in his face before stumbling downstairs, his pace faster once he smells a fresh pot of coffee.

“Mornin’” Jack croaks out, nodding at Dylan and Ethan who are sitting around the island with Quinn, who just slaps his shoulder in greeting. Luke wordlessly pours out a mug for him and Jack smiles at him gratefully.

“You look like shit,” Luke says bluntly. Jack would face wash him for that if he had the energy. And if he was wrong.

“Luke.” Quinn chastises.

Jack waves his older brother off. “It’s fine. He’s right.” His eye catches the sight of an envelope at the end of the table. “What’s that?”

It’s silent for a few seconds too long until Ethan clears his throat. “Uh, Amelie said she developed the shots for her film camera. Dropped some by that she said you guys might want.”

Jack swallows with a curt nod, chugging the whole cup of coffee in one go. He nods at Luke to pour him more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Quinn asks tentatively.

Immediately, Jack wants to shoot that down. But then he looks up, and he sees all four of them looking at him with varying degrees of worry in their eyes. Jack shoves down the instinct to avoid — like he’s been doing the last few days. “I don’t even know where to start.” He whispers.

“Anywhere that makes sense to you.” Quinn suggests, because Quinn’s always been the one who directs. Who guides.

So Jack lets it all out. He talks about how he purposefully didn’t want to cling to her all night because he didn’t want to come off that way but how he couldn’t take his eyes off her no matter where she was in the room. He talks about how beautiful she looked (“I mean, you guys aren’t stupid. That top with her eyes? Lethal combo.”) and how he had a moment where he felt like all was right in the world. He talks about that subtle shift in her mood after he lost her for a bit and how quiet she was in the car ride home.

That’s the easy part.

Jack inhales a muffin from a box that someone must’ve gotten this morning from the local bakery before continuing to recall him and Amelie’s conversation in the car after he dropped off everyone. When he drops the revelation that Amelie’s actually going to be around the Tri-State area covering the Rangers, Islanders, Flyers and the fucking Devils, all four of them look shocked, but don’t say anything. He talks about how his initial reaction was that he was hurt that she hadn’t told him because he thought that they had something going on between them. He talks about how he felt like the conversation escalated so quickly but also calmly because Amelie doesn’t raise her voice and Jack is not a yeller and how it almost would’ve been easier had they been screaming at each other. He talks about how he can’t really remember when Amelie started crying but how he can remember how he felt his stomach dropping to his feet when she did. He can barely remember how they fucking got there in the first place.

Jack sniffles, hastily wiping his tears away before they can fully fall. “All I know is that I fucking made her cry and whatever we had is probably ruined, which is extremely fucking convenient considering I’m gonna be seeing her around during the season.”

“It’s not ruined,” Ethan speaks up after a few seconds of silence.

Jack snorts. “No offense, man, But how would you know that for sure?”

“I know you two have gotten close in the last month or so, but besides that, I would argue that out of everyone here, I’m the closest with her.” And Jack swallows, because shit, Ethan has a point. Ethan continues. “Despite her lying to you and everything falling to pieces, it’s not ruined. Amelie isn’t like that. You have to really fuck up for her to cut you out.”

And like, yeah, Jack knows that, to a degree. But, “I don’t think she’s ever gonna wanna see me again.”

“Well, did you say anything that was particularly horrible?” Luke asks.

Jack swallows. “No? Maybe I was snappy at some points, but I don’t think so”

“I mean, it’s fair,” Quinn says. “Even though it’s harsh, you were right to be mad about her lying to you.”

“Did I give off that impression that she couldn’t talk to me? Like yeah, we practically just met, but I feel like, I don’t know. I just don’t really get why she’d hide that from me.”

“I might have an idea,” the guys turn to Ethan as he swallows and debates something in his own head. “Uh, this is random, but hear me out. Did she ever tell you about her ex?”

“Which one?” Jack asks.

“Cooper Volt. Baseball player at Michigan. Drafted to the Mets, I think.”

“A bit but not much. Why?”

“Look, I’m not trying to, like, spill her secrets or anything. I think it just might put things in context.” Jack nods and Ethan sighs. “So basically, she was dating him, right? Pretty serious. Lasted for a little over a year. Anyways. I don’t know the details, but I know that the break-up wasn’t pretty. Or, I just assume it wasn’t, because I only found out they broke up after I saw Cooper with another girl on his arm and was confused and literally asked Amelie about it. Apparently, it had only been two weeks since they broke up and he had already gone out and found someone else?”

“What an asshole,” Dylan says, his first verbal participation in the conversation. He’s been munching on cheerios, intensely listening. Quinn’s eyebrows are furrowed in a way that only appears when he’s concerned or really pissed off and Jack’s kinda fuming that someone put her through that.

“Right? Yeah, so that’s that. And typical Amelie, you know, said she was fine and I knew that she had her own friends checking up on her.” Jack’s nodding, following on to his every word, even if a bit confused on where Ethan is going with this. “Okay. So, this is, our sophomore year, so her junior year. The seniors are hosting a party and we convince her to come for once. You know how those parties go. They get big. People are filtering in and out. I just remember coming to the kitchen to refill my drink and seeing Amelie looking so fucking dejected as Cooper and his new girl are talking to her.”

“Did you hear what they said?” Luke asks.

“No, but I didn’t need to, not with that look in her eye,” Ethan scoffed. “I caught the tail-end of their conversation though, which, like, I don’t even wanna repeat, but it was basically Cooper just saying shit about how he never liked her anyways and he took a shot at her being bi? I don’t think I remember it quite accurately to be honest because the second I heard him say that shit I just saw red.”

“He threw the fact that she’s bi to her face?” Jack asks sharply. He’s trying his best not to throw his cup at the wall.

“Something like it,” Ethan says. “Yeah, I know. Absolute piece of shit. I kicked him and their friends out of the party, because, like, there was no fucking way they were staying.”

“How did I not know about this?” Luke asks. “I’m pretty sure I was at that party.”

“You were. If they had refused to leave or whatever or put up more of a fight, I would’ve gotten backup. But they didn’t. And you know Amelie. She begged me not to make a big deal out of it. So I just kept an eye on her for the rest of the night.”

“That’s so shitty,” Quinn says softly. “Putting that against her. With his new girlfriend there too.”

“Yeah, but…anyways. The point is, a week or so after that I kinda caught her after a game or something and I drove her back to her place and she kinda exploded. Went on a whole rant about athletes and sports culture from what she’s observed and all that, which I’m not saying isn’t true, but basically, I think the situation with Cooper was kind of the nail on the coffin.”

“That what?” Luke asks. “All athletes suck?”

Ethan clears his throat. “I think getting fucked over by Cooper, and then meeting Jack and realizing she has feelings for him then thinking back to the last time this happened and how it ended…can you blame her for being a bit scared?”

“She should’ve told me she was covering the Devils when she found out where she was gonna be placed.” Jack says firmly, and he stands by it.

“Probably,” Quinn agrees. “But Jacky, think about it. Even just some of the guys we’ve played with. Not saying they’re all assholes like this guy…it’s just, even if it’s unfair she might place you in the same category, that might be how she feels.”

“She should’ve told me,” Jack repeats. He squeezes his eyes in frustration.

“But did you tell her you were serious about her?” Luke says. Immediately, Jack wants to snap back at his younger brother, because he’s a pest and who is he to doubt Jack about his own fucking relationship, or lack thereof. But then, Jack realizes and a whole new pit appears in his stomach.

“She kept interrupting me,” he whispers. As he puts his head in his hands, he misses the sympathetic looks the other guys exchange. “Fuck. I never-I should’ve been clearer.”

“Jack-”

“I should’ve made that clear from the start,,” Jack says as Luke immediately shuts his mouth. “She had to have known. She had to.” Jack swallows roughly. He’s not the smartest, but he knows now. She didn’t know. And he never clarified what she meant to him.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Ethan says softly. Jack just waves his apology away. This is all on him. He excuses himself, putting his dish and mug in the sink.

“We’re heading out on the water later. You should come,” Quinn gently urges. Jack just nods, before clamoring up the stairs to take a shower or do something, anything to get rid of the feeling in his stomach.

The feeling that he’s fucked it all up.

day fifty six - amelie

Amelie’s at the Prudential Center by 6:30 a.m. The players start rolling in just after 8, while she’s finishing up helping to set up equipment and lighting. She has two cameras on either shoulder and one hanging by her neck and she has a headband in her hair and she feels happy. She feels at home.

She gets introduced to the guys that she’s been researching for a month now. All of them are pleasant and patient. She does let out a genuine smile when Luke reaches out for a hug in greeting. What happened between her and Jack has nothing to do with him, and she hopes he knows that as she gives him an extra squeeze before pulling away.

When she introduces herself to the captain, she swears there’s a spark of recognition that flashes through Nico’s eyes, but it leaves just as quick as it came. Within their first few minutes of conversation, she concludes that Nico is almost unfairly kind. No wonder Jack loves him.

It’s 10:19 a.m., and she still hasn’t seen Jack yet. She knows he’s scheduled in for his on-ice media shots sometime in the late morning. She purposefully didn’t grab herself a second cup of coffee after finishing her first one. She can’t be shaking when she’s trying to get pictures of him.

Jack comes in and shakes everyone’s hand. He just waves at her with a polite smile and she waves back, her stomach dropping. They can play it off as Amelie being across the ice and too far, but in reality, she’s not sure if she would try to fake a handshake and pretend they’ve never met, hug him and never let go, or do something incredibly fucking stupid like kiss him.

He looks so handsome. He must’ve cut his hair recently, in a shorter style that makes him so carefree and young.

His stuff takes around 20 minutes, and she doesn’t really have to talk to him, instead just taking direction from Mira, head photographer / videographer.

He’s not directly interacting with her, but she feels her stomach swirling and her palms sweat, causing the camera to almost slip out of her grasp multiple times. She wants to smile at the comfort he brings her just from being near him and wants to cry at how they left things in her grandparents’ driveway. At how bad she still feels for lying to him. At how much she’s missed him, as pathetic as it sounds.

It’s neither of their faults that things fell to pieces the way they did. But now, as she snaps a silhouette shot of Jack, she’s deathly afraid that this is just what it’s gonna be.

Jack’s the last one before lunch, so while everyone is taking their lunch break, Amelie takes a few moments to head to an empty room. She braces her hands on a table and takes three deep breaths. Her heart is beating fast. Her mind is starting to get away from her. She needs to focus. She cannot fall apart at work.

“Amelie?” She whips around to see Jack, dressed back in his Devils hoodie and shorts, looking at her in concern.

She wipes her sweaty hands on her jeans. “Jack. Hey. Can I help you with something?”

“No,” Jack shuffles into the room. “I just heard your sighs. I- I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

It feels like she has molasses in her throat, but she manages to respond. “I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Okay. Good.”

He’s about to walk out of the room but her brain thinks before her mouth. “Jack!” He turns back around and she takes a breath.

“Yeah?” His face is unreadable.

She forces herself to keep eye contact. “Would you wanna maybe grab dinner or something?”

Jack blinks. Amelie wonders if he’s ever been rendered speechless. His voice doesn’t give anything away either. “Like, on a date?” She nods. Her stomach is dropping and she feels shame cripple up her spine until-”

“Yes.”

Her stomach drops, but for an entire different reason. “Really?” She asks in a small voice

“Of course,” His eyes glow and the light smirk on his face doesn’t feel arrogant. It feels light. Fond, even. “That sounds..perfect.”

“Oh, okay.” She whispers and her throat closes up as he steps closer.

“I’ll text you?”

“I’ll text you.”

He smiles brightly, and she can’t help but smile back. She’s missed that smile so much. “Okay,” he whispers. “I can’t wait.”

“Thank you,” she croaks out. “I’m sorry about…well. I’m sorry.”

Jack chuckles, and it makes her heart feel a bit lighter. He gingerly grabs both her hands, looking right into her eyes as he brings them up to his lips and kisses them softly. She bites her lip, overwhelmed. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he says. “Promise.”

“Jack,” she whispers.

He walks backwards shyly, but his eyes stay on hers stubbornly. “You know, with you, it’s always gonna be a yes.”

“Jack.”

He just winks. Amelie’s breath hitches. “I’ll see you later, Amelie.”

She smiles as he walks out of her sight.

~*~*~

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