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reiiaokii · 20 days ago

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RAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHDHHAKWGWKQNAS

┈─★ 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 ( 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧 .) / pt ii.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ a few years after the worst heartbreak you've ever known, you're back at the ranch for one week to pay your respects after your grandfather suddenly passes away. you're convinced you're over the stupid farmhand that made you swear off love— until of all people, megan skiendiel shows up at your door, same hat, same boots, same sad brown eyes.

ˎˊ˗ 🌾 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🔓୭˚. ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

➴ pairing: cowboy! megan skiendiel x f!reader

➴ genre + wc: 12k, modern cowboy!au, exes to lovers, jealous + protective bf megan wahhh, explores themes of grief, slice of life, small town vibes, MILD angst, we KILL the cowboy (jk happy ending i swear!!)

➴ you might want to tune in...: 𝗢𝗦𝗧: golden hour - kacey mustgraves. ♫ 𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜: i don't trust myself (with loving you) - john mayer. ♩ 𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜𝗜: still your girl - gamma skies. ♫ 𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜𝗜𝗜: wait by the river - lord huron. ♩ 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗦: superglue - role model. ♫

➴ 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗶 can be found here. ᵎᵎ

cw:// suggestive scene, mentions of death (parent/grandparent.)

your skin crawls being there. same place, 3 years later.

“sorry we couldn’t get you from the airport,” your uncle apologizes.

“it’s okay. the train wasn’t all that bad.”

“it’s so nice to see your face round here again. wish it was under better circumstances.”

you’re not quite sure how to respond. when your grandfather passed away suddenly, your parents did nothing but argue about who would come to represent your family at the funeral. both insanely busy with their own jobs, the role fell to you, much to your protest. but considering his money was what was going to fuel you through your future goal of med school, you had little room left to argue.

(after all, you’d also promised yourself you’d never mention a word of what that summer did to you, and that was a promise easily kept.)

now here you are, back at the place you swore you’d never return to, trying to get through the week unscathed.

“who are they?” you ask, motioning to the two random boys working together to take your bag into he house. they stumble over themselves, struggling to get the handle to tuck away.

“just some sorry excuses for cowboys,” old pete spits. “ever since the kid left, we needed the hands. but they ain’t much help.”

the implication isn’t lost on you. they needed two guys to do what megan did by herself.

“y/n,” your aunt’s voice cuts in, sounding worried. “your uncle should tell you-”

“i don’t want to talk about it,” you cut her off, knowing already by the tone where this is headed.

“she doesn’t want to talk about it,” your uncle reiterates, shrugging.

you’re napping on the sofa by the open window to enjoy the mountain air breeze when a rustle outside stirs you. you hear the crunch of gravel, some footsteps making their way up to the porch, and a thud as someone sits in the old rocking chair.

“use the truck as long as you’re here, you get that old thing to run better than anyone. thank you again for coming,” your uncle’s voice is muffled against the hum of the cicadas.

“don’t mention it.”

you feel a jolt through your spine. you know that stupid voice.

(worse, you remember that stupid phrase. her first words to you.)

you leap off the couch and see her clearly through the window.

she’s leaning against one of the posts of the patio fence, arms crossed over her chest, a suede jacket and blue jeans with those stupid boots and that stupid fucking hat.

you feel immeasurable rage bubble up and out of your chest, and before the sense can kick in, you’re racing past the front door and pushing her backwards full force, sending her toppling backwards off the railing and onto the dirt.

those brown eyes look up at you, wide and full of confusion as she processes what’s going on, and you feel instantly sick to your stomach as you take her in. three years weren't enough to forget every feature of her face, and you ache realizing that her eyes are heavier, the creases between her brows deeper, and her smile lines faded.

(she’s older now, and granted you are too, but years ago, you were dreaming of being the one to grow old with her.)

“you’ve got some fucking nerve showing up here,” you spit.

if you were half a screw more unhinged, you’d slap her then and there, but a part of you knows a girl who takes beatings from thousand-pound cattle or pissed off horses would probably hardly even flinch at you.

she rises to her feet slowly, the patio fence the only thing between the two of you. she dusts off her jeans and eyes you with uncertainty. you want to be in her face again, but she mirrors your movement like a wrangler watching a bull, careful and calculated. for every bit you lean to move towards her, she leans away.

“y/n…” your uncle tries to quell you, standing up from the chair.

“you didn’t even go to your mom’s own funeral and you’re coming to my granddad’s, who you barely fucking knew?” you blurt, barely able to contain yourself as you stumble over your own feet. “what kind of stupid fucked logic is that?”

her jaw goes hard, and she pulls the brim of her hat down to cover her eyes from your view. she waves curtly to your uncle and makes her way over to the truck, and it fills you with rage to see her drive away down the road so easily.

“i tried telling you–” your uncle starts, but you don’t want to hear it. you sprint back upstairs into your room and lock the door, trying to calm your racing heart.

it’s just a week, but it might as well be another summer in hell.

they know not to ask you about her.

“i wouldn’t recommend the fields tonight, stay here,” your aunt tells you gently, seeing you pull a jacket over your shoulders as you make your way downstairs, having been holed up in your bedroom since last night’s interaction.

but if anything, that pisses you off more, this stupid girl won’t be the reason you’re stuck inside all day, and you take a horse out through the property to clear your mind.

(maybe you’ll be less stubborn next time.)

you recognize her instantly once you see her in the steer pen, beer can in one hand, crushed cans littering the fence post where her jacket is hanging and the horse is tied to. your first instinct is to turn around, but your hands stay firm on your horse’s reins instead of backing the two of you out of there.

you can see her outline faintly against the sunset. she’s waving her hat in the steer’s face, taunting the beast intentionally, dipping out of his way as soon as it starts to run towards her.

a one-man bullfight.

as soon as you get your horse finally turning, deciding you’ve had enough, you see her trip over the heel of her boot, slipping and landing back-first into the ground. the steer, seeing red, starts to run directly towards her.

you feel your stomach lurch. as angry as you are, a half ton creature crushing her is probably not the revenge you were seeking.

you dismount quickly and run straight up to the fencing, waving your hands wildly.

“hey! hey you!” you scream at the bull, the desperation in your voice apparent. it breaks the silence between the bull and megan, and breaks his concentration briefly. he turns to look at you, realizing you’re behind the fence, and then turns back towards his previous victim.

but megan, as much as you hate her, is quick on her feet to scramble out of the pen and roll underneath the fence post, her chest heaving as she escapes the near-death experience.

she’s wobbly as she gets to her feet, breathing heavily still. she grabs her hat off from the ground and dusts it off.

“thanks for rescuing me.”

“you’re selfish as shit, for so many reasons, but getting yourself killed by a cow on the week of my grandpa’s funeral would be another notch on your stupid belt.”

“not my best idea,” she wrinkles her nose, and you feel rage boiling from beneath your skin.

“drunk, stupid cowboy.” you shove into her, feeling the hot tears threaten the corners of your eyes.

“you loved this drunk, stupid cowboy, once,” she bites back immediately, faster than you had ever expected, and her voice is strained, as if she’s been screaming or yelling.

or crying.

you say nothing and turn around, mounting back on your horse to leave.

she says nothing, but you hear the crunch of the metal beer can beneath her boot.

“you said she stopped living here,” you tell your uncle over dinner that night. you try to be calm, but your tone changes the words into an accusation instead of a comment.

“she did,” he tries to reassure you. “she came into town for the service.”

“is that where bruce went?” you question, having noticed only tilla’s presence on the property. “you let him leave with megan?”

“who’s bruce?” one of the replacement farmhand boys asks dumbly, and old pete simply slaps the back of his head to chastise him for interrupting.

“she needed him more than we did,” he insists. “i felt bad splittin’ the two up. she sends me pictures of him every week.”

“you guys still talk?” you feel the back of your neck light on fire. isn’t your family supposed to have your back? “is that how she found out about grandpa?”

“your grandpa loved that kid, said she respected the land, understood it,” old pete interjects, seeing your uncle clearly drowning under your line of questioning. “they talked even after she quit workin’ here.”

“the service is on sunday, like he would have wanted, and then they read his will on wednesday when your cousins all get here,” your aunt reminds you, as if it’s supposed to offer you comfort.

“i don’t want to be stuck seeing her.”

“that might be hard,” your uncle rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “she agreed to come help out on the property for a few days, just while we arrange everything—”

“you’re joking,” you blurt. “but those new boys are living in her old room.”

“she’s staying in the old log cabin up the road by the stables. you aunt never let us go in there cause of how cold the nights get, but meg figured out the wood stove and where the smoke was leaking from, that damned kid. always so sharp.”

“y/n, you leave in a week, and it’s not like she’s living in the house and having family meals with us. i know it’s not ideal, but…” your aunt tries to console you, but you’ve already stood up by the time she trails off.

you take your plate up to your room and finish dinner with your book in silence. your aunt’s words ring in your head. just get through the week.

the next day, thursday, you’re going stir-crazy by mid-day. you’re tired of being holed up in your room since the sunrise.

if you run into megan, you’ll simply walk away. free will, or whatever. you deserve the right to go explore and find closure, and then never think of this place again.

and somehow, despite the hundreds of acres the property owns, you’re reading up against the fencepost, trying to enjoy the summer sun and the smell of the clean mountain air through the tall grass, and you hear a quiet hum. that gentle, soft hum that had once calmed every pressing worry in your body.

megan’s words ring through your ears.

you loved her, once.

“y/n,” she breathes, recognizing you as she walks along the trail, hands in her pocket.

“what do you want?” you ask, watching as she approaches cautiously.

“i owe you an apology,” she tells you, kneeling down to be at eye level, still keeping a fair amount of distance between the two of you. her statement catches your attention.

you don’t owe her forgiveness, but part of you needs the closure.

“i’m listening.”

she takes a deep breath, her eyes avoiding yours. her hands wring together, as if she’s rehearsed this and is nervous to forget her lines.

and then she opens her mouth, and your heart sinks.

“i took advantage of you that summer, when you were lonely. that was shitty and irresponsible of me. i should have known better. i’m sorry.”

you feel the bile rise up in your throat. you weren’t sure what to expect, but surely this was the worst possible thing to come out of what she could say. that was the last possible perspective you’d have taken about that summer, the way you two grew closer by equal parts proximity and shared time getting to know each other, like two opposites discovering just how much they balanced the other out.

“that’s how you’re looking at this?” you ask in disbelief.

“i was the only person around your age for miles,” she shakes her head, still avoiding your gaze.

“you are so full of shit,” you breathe, completely unable to say more than that. “my god.”

“sorry, y/n.”

“you know, i was hoping when my uncle said you’d left, that you’d gone and done some reflecting and growing and there would be even a chance at closure with you.” you stand up, worried if you stay seated any longer, you might pen up too much energy and try to push her again. “but you haven’t changed at all.”

you’re half expecting her to defend herself, but instead, she simply tilts her head looking up at you from where she’s still sitting.

“what, like you’ve changed?”

you scowl at her. “i’m a completely different person than i was back then.”

“tiger can’t change its stripes,” megan says simply. “people don’t change.”

“but they grow,” you cut back quickly, feeling the anger threatening to boil over. “and if you don’t grow, you die sad and alone, which is what’s going to happen to you while i go off and live my life.”

you see megan’s brow twitch.

“and i’ll go off and live it with someone who isn’t scared to be in love with me, ‘cause that’s what i deserve, and that wasn’t you,” you continue, before turning on your heel to start walking away. you’d give anything to make sure she doesn’t see you cry. “i don’t deserve someone who minimizes it or writes it off or runs away from it.”

you hear the crunch of her boots against the dirt as she gets up and catches up to you easily, her voice ringing out from behind you.

“sorry for minimizing it.”

“it’s fucking gross for me to talk about it, but i’m not afraid to admit it like you are. i loved you so much and i genuinely pictured the future with you, and to hear you talk it down to me just being lonely and young— i hate thinking that’s what you think of me.” you stop briefly, trying to shake your head to stop the tears from continuing. “you ruined everything.”

but then she reaches out to grab your wrist, and the contact makes your whole body illuminate with electricity. her grip is gentle, but so unbelievably strong. her eyes are finally seeking yours, her gaze hard and serious, as if she’s flipped a switch.

“did you find someone else while you went home?” she asks, her voice low.

“who cares if i did?” you yank your arm out of her grasp. “i wanted it to be you.”

“i care,” she says weakly, and you decide you’ve had enough.

whatever version of megan you might’ve loved is long gone.

“no you don’t care. all you care about is protecting yourself.” you leave your book there, deciding you’ll come back for it another time, and turn on your heel to walk back towards the lodge. “i’m leaving. i’ll see you at the funeral, then i can’t wait to never fucking think about you ever again. bye megan.”

one of the trees by the creek catches your attention as you walk back to the lodge, trying to clear your head of thoughts of the ginger.

there’s a little notch carved into the side of it, like a tally mark.

you turn around the tree and notice that the whole thing is notched. carefully scratched tally marks as high as you can reach, down to the very bottom, made by a hunting knife or a swiss army knife or something.

you keep walking straight back to the lodge. you could swear you hear something like your name being called out behind you, but you chalk it up to the wind and leave it where it lays.

friday morning, two days before the funeral service. you’ve managed to find a rhythm where you move fast enough around the property to not get caught up enough to run into megan again. this time, you’re rustling around in the wooded area by the field, hoping to figure out where the hell your book ended up.

you hear the faint rustle of leaves, and then a quiet set of yips and yelps. your legs go numb as you recognize the pattern— megan had taught you how to recognize the noises of different animals, and coyotes sound an awful lot like what you’re hearing around you.

“hey pete?” you call out, trying to see if your sounds can potentially scare them off. “pete?”

“not funny,” you yell a little louder, your voice shaking slightly. you hear the yelps getting louder, a bit closer, and you try to ramp up your yells, clapping as well. “get outta here! go!”

the noises only come closer, and you wish you would have come prepared with some bear spray or something to get out of this, but before you can worry too much, there’s a rapid sound of crunching twigs through the woods.

someone is running to you.

you can only hope it’s pete, or your uncle, but the ginger hair is quickly colliding into you, landing the both of you into the dirt. you can’t hear the animals any more, and figure it was megan’s chaotic racket that scared them off.

“you okay?” she asks quickly, her arms holding her up to hover over you.

“get off of me,” you huff, trying to push off her shoulders.

she steps away, and you see the fresh rips in her jeans, the scuffs on her boots, and the briars all stuck to her.

you look back from where she had run– a thicket of bristles, and you see the barbed wire just a few yards behind.

“what did you do?” you question, trying to piece it together.

“i might’ve gotten caught up in one of the wire fences when i heard you. came running, probably should have been more careful,” she admits, staring down at her ruined pair of levi’s.

“don’t do that again,” you threaten, but your heart abandons you. the near-miss with the bull was enough. you can’t risk unpacking the pain of something happening to her.

“okay,” she breathes simply. she searches for something in her back pocket, and retrieves your book. “this is yours.”

she leaves the book next to you, and turns to disappear back into the treeline.

friday evening. you’re face to face with the pond. the air is sticky, oppressively hot even as the sun comes down, and you decide you’re not afraid of anything if you’re able to face all these memories of megan and make it out in one piece.

you don’t exactly want either of the new boys watching you strip down to your underwear, so you tell yourself you can teach yourself how to swim without supervision as long as you stay with your head above water.

admittedly, you’re getting more and more confident with each stride. it’s easy enough to think you’re getting the hang of it when you’re only torso deep, and the water is still. you wade in a tiny bit further, enjoying the cool water against your skin.

your foot slips on a rock much too smooth for you to grip, and you feel yourself slip under the water by accident. you miscalculated just how deep this thing is.

you don’t have enough time to gasp a final gulp of air before you feel the water in your mouth, in your lungs, your limbs flailing to try and get a grasp of something nearby to pull yourself out.

you feel the strong hands, much too familiar, wrap around your waist and heave upwards to get your head above the water. you gasp a breath and feel yourself flailing, but her grip is so strong on you, so firm, you go limp as she kicks backwards to get you back to shallower water.

the two of you collapse on top of each other at the shore of the pond, and she lets go of you immediately.

“you okay?” she asks, those too-familiar brown eyes scanning over you, brows knit together. her clothes are completely drenched through, the fabric clinging to her.

you shove her away, trying to build distance between the two of you, as you reach for your flannel to cover yourself up. “fucking hate you.”

“quit saying that,” she grimaces, her nose wrinkling as she turns to look away from you, as if she’s pained by your statement.

“leave me the fuck alone, megan,” you nearly scream, exasperated.

“you were drowning,” she says back, as if in disbelief.

“i don’t want you near me, what part of that do you not understand?”

“i’m not looking for you,” she snaps. “but i keep finding you.”

“somehow,” you snap back frustratedly.

“somehow,” she echoes, but her voice is softer, and you see her face change.

you feel your heart thud. you can’t handle whatever is about to come out of her.

“don’t–” you try, but the stupid cowboy is always too fast.

“i tried calling you,” she blurts, “every day, all of fall season after you left.”

“that’s all i meant to you, the fall time? three months?” you shove her further away. “sounds about right.”

she grabs your wrist, again. you freeze, her gaze locking into yours as her voice drops.

“y/n, for a split second, you meant the rest of my fuckin’ life,” she tells you firmly, her voice unwavering. “after the fall time, i called you every friday morning for a year.”

your heart nearly stops in your chest. your fridays in town together.

it clicks, faintly. the mystery phone number that always called during your friday 8am class, you always let go to voicemail, and it never left a message. you thought it was a spam number and blocked it after three weeks.

“please don’t get back in there,” she starts, motioning to the pond. “if you got hurt…”

she trails off, biting down. you can see the tears welling in her eyes.

you feel yourself eager to bite back, eager to wound her and make her feel half of what you feel.

if i got hurt? do you know what you’ve done to me?

you’re not cruel enough to drive the point home. you know she knows the damage she’s done. she gets up off the ground and wrings her shirt out before she walks in the opposite direction, leaving you alone without another word.

you burst through the door of the ranch house and lock eyes with your aunt, who is at the table peeling onions for tonight’s dinner.

“did megan actually try to call me the whole fall season?” you rush, the words bursting out of you faster than you could think them through.

“why are you wet?” your aunt asks in shock. “y/n, look at the state of you!”

“please,” you press, and you see her face twist. she lets out a sigh and shakes her head.

“after you left, i could tell something was off. she’d take bruce and make the drive out to town every damn morning before anyone woke up just to try and use the pay phone.” she stands up and wipes her hands on her apron. “blew half her pay a week just on gas alone. she said she didn’t trust the cell service up here on the ranch.”

“every morning?” you question, but your aunt has never been one to exaggerate.

“then it was just the fridays, like when you two’d go to town and run your errands. when that stopped working for whatever reason, she got it in her head to start writing on the porch and she’d stay for hours writing these letters. she’d go up to the mailbox every morning, then just turn around without putting it in. i think she thought i didn’t see her, but god gave women a sixth sense for these kinds of things.” she shoots you a pointed look. “sneaking about things.”

“oh,” you say simply, the back of your neck burning.

“she lost something when you left,” her tone softens, reaching out a hand gently onto your arm. “kid wasn’t the same after that. never seen her angry before, but i assume that’s what it was– anger. tried to hide it but you don’t just smoke a pack a day and work yourself to the bone without it going noticed, y’know?”

“sorry,” you say simply, blinking as you try to make sense of it all.

“sweetie, your uncle is simple, and old pete doesn’t know anything.” she shakes her head again, as if she’s letting you in on a secret. “and i’m not the type to tell anyone how to live, much less an independent, smart girl like you. i’ll let you make your own decisions.”

she walks away, and you assume that’s the end of it, but she emerges from the pantry with a small box, heaving it with both hands. she drops it on the table in front of you, and you see it’s taped shut.

“but do i believe these are for you.”

you hesitate, but take the box upstairs into your room. you change into some dry clothes and peel back the tape to open the box.

in it, filled to the brim, are little envelopes, no dates, no addresses, no anything. you fish down to grab one from the bottom and slip a finger under the seal to take the letter out. you sit on your bed, taking in the handwriting.

i think of you every time i go to the rodeo. did you know that’s when i asked for a sign from god? that night was the first time i didn’t beat my own record. every other time, i lasted longer and longer, and the one and only time you came with me, i fell short. i think it was my mom telling me that there’s something else out there that feels better than just winning stupid shit.

you blink, setting the paper down. you read a second, then another, and another. you don’t realize you read through the night until your eyes droop and you fall asleep, pile of papers surrounding you.

(somehow, her voice rings even louder in your mind.)

saturday evening. you slept in til the mid-day to catch up on how late you were up. you’ve spent too long that day reading all her letters, leaving a few of them to save for later that night, your eyes strained from focusing all day. she talks about her mom, about loss, about mourning, about her regrets and her fears.

and she talks about you. every letter, a new memory you didn’t know she had treasured, catalogued away in that supposedly empty brain of hers— a new way to look at each memory the two of you had made that summer.

your fingers slip one in your back pocket, one of your favorites, one that had validated the experience the two of you had shared.

we had dinner on the porch today, because the cicadas were singing so beautifully. it made me think about you and the time you sat and kept me company in the rocking chair while we peeled potatoes for dinner. that was the first day i pictured us getting old and grey. i realized i didn’t need the ranch, i just needed you.

you shake your head and try to empty it of thoughts of her. whoever this version of megan was, it was gone, and the one you have now is what you have to accept.

your stomach twists at the thought. you need to focus on anything but the ache in your chest of reliving all these moments, knowing how she felt on the other end of it.

“can i take auntie’s car into the town?” you call out to the house.

“be safe on the road. you don’t usually drive it alone, it can get tiring,” your uncle calls back to you. “her keys are on the mantle.”

you find the keys, and take your aunt’s vw bug out of the garage and onto the dirt road, starting the hour-long drive out to the town. familiar, but never one you’ve done alone, you figure it’s the easiest thing you can do to get out of your own head.

you end up at the bar, the only other thing open past 9pm in this god forsaken small town. you’re used to a bustling night life in your city, but forget that things are much much slower up in the mountain. the parking lot is full of familiar-looking trucks and old cars, clearly a town celebrating the freedom of the weekend.

you enter and take in the old country bar: neon signs, mounted animal heads, and hundreds of framed photos of people and places around the town. couples dance to the music, others play pool at the tables nearby, and some are getting rowdy near the mechanical bull ride.

you let out a quiet breath and sit yourself at the bar. you feel the crinkle in your back pocket. a letter you forgot to take out before you had left the house.

before the bartender can even get to you, a mustached man posts up in the seat next to you, resting his elbow much too far into your bubble.

“the niece from the city,” he says simply, and you realize you might not be a stranger to these people after all. “let me buy you something.”

“no thank you,” you nod politely. whatever his intentions are, your focus was to spend the night alone in a new place, and considering you weren’t even old enough to enter the bar last you were here, this is your best bet at making a memory in this town for yourself, without megan’s hands on it.

(and how predictably rude of this man to ruin it…)

“i insist,” he pushes, flagging for the bartender to come over.

“i promise i’m okay,” you press back, rolling your eyes. nothing good can ever exist outside of a man ruining it.

but then he’s taking a strand of your hair in his dirty hand, and you feel yourself tense.

“pretty hair, on a pretty girl,” he tells you, playing with the lock within his fingers, leaning in much too close for your comfort. “how’re you likin’ the countryside so far?”

you feel yourself try to move away but you freeze at how imposing he is in your space. you’re sure any other interested girl would swoon being in your position, a confident man making it clear he’s interested, but this is quite possibly the opposite of what you’d want in this moment right now.

your mouth opens to protest, but there’s no sound. his hand is suddenly yanking backwards, and you see his body swing back out of the chair. you realize he’s been shoved away from you.

you smell it before you see her. pine and campfire.

and in an instant, she lands a punch to his face, square in the jaw.

“sorry sorry, my hand slipped,” she apologizes to him lazily, shaking out her wrist from what you can assume will be an impact bound to bruise. she takes a quick look at him, and you’re shocked when she spits on the ground next to his head, her eyes narrowing. “i’d stay down there if i were you, my hand might slip again.”

“out,” the bartender growls, whistling towards the two of you and pointing to the door. “now. come back when you’re sobered up, kid.”

“what the fuck?” you scowl at her, before a random pair of hands are shoving the two of you out the door and into the parking lot, the chill of the night air nipping at your nose.

megan doesn’t seem the least bit unphased, her eyes wide but focused on you.

“did you get a lot of people flirting with you back home?” she blurts, almost breathlessly. you can see her hand already start to swell, but she’s paying it no attention.

“why do you care?” you jab back.

“i can’t–” her face twists, her eyes scrunching shut. “i can’t stand the idea.”

you can’t give any thought to her rambles right now. “how the fuck do you keep finding me?”

“i am kinda–” she pauses, wrinkling her nose, “a little drunk. no liquor store so the bar is the only option when the gas station closes. came here and wanted to forget about you.”

you stare her down, contemplating what comes next. the choice is easy.

you sprint right over to your car and lock yourself in, megan irritatedly following behind you and knocking on the glass that now separates you.

“open,” she grunts, testing the door handle.

“go away.” you scowl at her through the glass. “i’ll scream, and someone will come and beat your ass.”

“don’t drive an hour home when you just drank like that,” she pleads, her voice softening slightly. she slumps against the car, leaning her face near the window to be able to look you in the eyes. “i’m gonna stay as long as i need to fix this. i’ll stay all night if i have to.”

her eyes are so warm and inviting, even through the barrier of the glass. you have half a mind to kick the car in reverse and let her go tumbling over the hood.

“i don’t want to be around you, what part of that is not getting through your skull?”

“i hurt you and i ran away instead of running towards you,” she says suddenly, pressing her forehead against the window. you’re shocked by how tender her voice sounds, a world of difference from her apology on the ranch. “i was scared to love something that deep and have it ripped away from me, and i ran away from it instead so it’d hurt less.”

“but it didn’t hurt less,” she continues, her eyes avoiding yours. you see her lip tremble, but she hardens her jaw to steady it. “it left something.”

“i was angry with you. i was angry for the first time in my adult life,” she admits. “i had gone numb after my mom, and then you show up, and it’s like everything was back to full volume after being silent for so long. being up here, it gave me a routine to fall into. it made me stop thinking, and then you showed up, and all i wanted to do was think about you, and the future, and the beauty in everything. you put something back in my head, and when you left, it made me angry.”

“i didn’t leave you on purpose,” you finally manage, silent throughout all of this.

“you could have stayed. we could have kept everything the same, and you had to go off and leave me,” she pushes back, but her voice is small, barely audible now across the glass.

“the same?” you question.

“we could have lived on the ranch and lived so easy, y/n.”

“i tried to bring you with me–”

“and i wasn’t ready. and that will haunt me forever.” her lips press into a fine line, and your heart thuds as she lets out a quiet breath. “i’m sorry i wasn’t ready to love you how you deserved.”

the apology. a real apology.

with that, you feel it rise from the gravel, the summer you had burned and buried, the feelings you had worked so diligently to try and rid yourself of before they destroyed you. you can close the chapter where you hate her, and move away from it all.

“i guess we were just kids,” you breathe after a moment.

“i’m sorry,” she reiterates. you roll the window down, and she leans on the frame, her head poking into the car. “i am really truly sorry.”

“no.” you don’t want her to grovel and ruin the moment, waving her off. “you gave me closure. done being angry.”

“you are?” her eyes light up.

“i leave wednesday night, and it’ll be easier not having to seethe with rage every time i see you,” you offer as a truce.

“i’m more than good with that,” she nods, and you feel the next chapter writing itself.

“i’m hungry,” you say simply, and she arches a curious brow at you.

“the diner is 24/7,” she offers.

“dinner, at the diner?” you ask, pointing up the street.

“i need to sober up before i try driving back to the ranch, and so do you,” megan says. “it’s a five minute walk. we can get the cars after?”

you nod and the two of you walk together to the diner, keeping a cautious distance in between yourselves. you ignore the crumple of paper in your back pocket, the letter begging to be read.

she orders a black coffee and watches you the whole time you eat your pancake platter.

you watch her back. your heart echoes something each time your eyes meet silently, but you do your best to quiet it as you make small talk about the town.

home.

sunday finally comes. the service is beautiful, and they bury your grandpa next to your grandma.

“they get to be together even after all they’ve been through,” your aunt says, something like admiration in her voice.

you look at megan, and she’s fixed her eyes on the hole in the ground, biting down on her bottom lip to stay anchored. you can already tell what she’s thinking of and what this brings up for her.

before you can stop yourself, you reach for her hand. she takes it and squeezes it, and doesn’t let go.

that night, after the service, your uncle insists on taking the whole family out to the bar, saying it’s what his father would have wanted. your grandpa was a big character, and it’s not out of the picture to think he had asked for something like this to lighten everyone's spirits.

(you don’t mention having been kicked out last night. luckily, nobody asks.)

“you know, when god shuts a window, he opens a door,” your great aunt says, motioning to the couples all paired up for the dances.

“slim pickings,” your cousin wrinkles his nose, motioning to the local singles at the bar.

“oh your generation— i was married at your age. stop being such a pill. just find someone good looking and go from there,” she huffs.

“bet you $20 that you won’t go walk up to the best lookin’ person in this room right now and give ‘em a dance,” he teases you. his side of the family have always been bolder and brasher than you have, but with a newfound sense of confidence, you don’t feel quite ready to step down.

you bite back. “bigger stakes. i want grandpa’s truck.”

“no chance!” he gawks, but the mischievous grin tells you he likes your mettle. “i know for a fact he signed it to me in the will. you’ll see wednesday.”

“no money. i get a dance, and i get them to last longer than 30 seconds on the bull,” you push, upping the stakes.

“ha! i’d like to see what idiot can last past 10.” he laughs and shakes you on it. “truck’s yours if you can do it.”

“the both of you are so crass,” your great-aunt scolds. “we laid him to rest not hours ago and you’re already pawning off his belongings!”

“i want that truck,” you emphasize, before throwing back one more shot to try and muster the courage to do this.

you scan the room of the people who aren’t family, and your cousin is right. not many options left to try, much less people who seem strong enough to be able to win you that mechanical bull bet.

your eyes land on the tall figure, leaning up against the wall, in that same stupid hat and those stupid boots. you hear the echo in your ear again, but push it away as you approach her.

“hi,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around her neck much too easily. her eyebrows arch nearly off her forehead in surprise, but her hands take to your back with far too much ease.

“hi.” megan says back simply, her nervous eyes looking over your shoulder and then back down at your now-swaying bodies. “is there a reason why your great-aunt looks like she wants to kill me?”

“no,” you grin, and megan can instantly tell you’re up to no good.

“sure it has nothing to do with two girls slow dancing?” she questions, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. she’s so steady on her feet, swaying the two of you along to the song playing over the speakers.

“might,” you continue with the short answers, trying not to give yourself away.

“i figured.” she shakes her head and lets out a snort, but before either of you can question it, her hands are dipping down from your back to the dip of your waist. you want to correct her grip, but you can’t find the words to tell her to move her hand. it feels much, much too comfortable there, like the grooves were made for her strong hands to hold onto.

“if she’s mad about this, she’s gonna hate watching you beat all my boy cousins at riding that mechanical bull,” you laugh.

“what? i’m not getting on that thing.” she wrinkles her nose, motioning over to the bucking machine. “no self respecting bull rider would.”

“i can’t convince you?” you bat your lashes up at her, though the thoughts of the bet are starting to fade from your memory as you look into those perfect brown eyes.

“convince me?” she echoes, laughing. “you want to convince me?”

“maybe i just wanted to see if i’ve still got it.” you’re not sure where this sudden rush of boldness comes from, but you chalk it up to the drinks and the lively vibe of the bar party.

“oh, like you don’t have suckers for you back home?” megan teases, though her voice waves and drops the slightest bit. “i’m sure you’ve got a line waiting out the door for you.”

“i might,” you goad on, curious about her shift in tone.

“please tell me you’re not interested,” she insists, eyebrows knitting together, and part of you buzzes at the way her voice shifts in the slightest.

“not many cowboys in the city to pick from.”

“is that your type?” she inquires, and you feel her grip on you tighten slightly.

“maybe it was, at one point,” you hum, trying to stop yourself from playing with the baby hairs at the base of her neck. “but only the cowboys who’d do anything for me.”

“hm,” is all she says, her eyes searching for something in you. you’re about to say something more, but the song ends and megan lets go of you, excusing herself with a nod of her head. you wonder if you’ve pushed her too far.

you head back to the bar to grab another drink. you’re barely getting the cup from the bartender when you hear an obnoxious rise of cheers from the other end of the room. you look up at what’s causing the ruckus, and feel yourself smile against your will.

stupid megan, riding that damn mechanical bull, her knuckles white as they grip onto the handle and her face tensed with focus. the timer on the wall with big red numbers keeps ticking up, up, up, until she’s set the new bar record without so much as a slip.

“fuck!” you hear your cousin scream from across the bar, throwing his drink angrily into the wall.

you offer a slow clap of congratulations as megan fans herself off with her hat and comes marching up to you.

“hope that’s proof you’ve still got it.” she points a playfully menacing finger in your face. “please don’t go testing any other cowboys. this one will do just fine.”

you feel something pluck at you from deep in your chest. those eyes that know you. those hands that make you feel safe. that voice that unnerves you and comforts you all at once.

the feeling from the diner comes back. home.

“drive me back to the ranch, cowboy?” you ask suddenly, reaching out to her. “i want to get out of here.”

her eyes widen, clearly caught off guard. you can see the debate in her eyes, the pause between the two of you, the quiet, hesitant swallow she takes before opening her mouth again.

“of course,” she nods, grabbing her jacket off the barstool and handing it to you, out of habit. you see her freeze and start to pull her hand back, her uncertain eyes meeting yours.

you grab the jacket from her and step ahead of her into the parking lot, slipping the worn denim over your shoulders. you take a deep inhale. pine and campfires. home.

the drive back up is mostly spent with you listening to her hum along to the radio, your first time listening to country music in god knows how long. her voice is soft as it’s always been, melodic and peaceful, and you’re focusing on the moonlit grass as the truck finally makes it to the trail leading up to the property.

“i— um, thank you, for today,” she breaks the silence, avoiding your gaze to focus on the road. “i’m sorry it wasn’t the other way around.”

“don’t be. i knew my grandpa was at the end of it,” you reassure her. “i’m sure it wasn’t easy for you thinking about your mom.”

“it was easier with you,” she says softly. “thank you again.”

there’s a heavy pause between the two of you. you don’t know what possesses you to speak up, but you do.

“i read your letters,” you blurt. “i think all of them.”

“oh,” she blinks, eyes widening.

“thank you for writing them like you said you would.”

“of course.” she lets out a quiet breath as the truck takes a familiar turn up the road. “thanks for reading them, i guess. never thought they’d see you.”

“is this the cabin where you’re staying?” you wave for her to stop the truck, wanting to get a better look at the tiny log cabin off by the pasture. “my uncle said you fixed the stove in there, got it to heat up.”

“you know me,” megan shrugs dismissively. “still no good at much else but fixing and wrangling.”

you swing the truck door open and step out, wanting to get a closer look at it. it’s tiny, likely only one room, but it suits her somehow. you can picture her so, so cozy here.

“you could come in, and see how the stove works,” megan offers slowly, her eyes hesitantly following yours.

you know it could be a clean end, to ask her to drop you off at the lodge and go from there, but something is calling you to her, and you can’t seem to quiet that voice this time. you nod, and she fidgets with her keys for a moment to get the door open, grabbing a log from the pile in front of the door.

you enter behind her, and she’s tending to the woodfire stove that warms the whole cabin. it’s tiny, exactly how you’d imagined, but the roar of the fire and the coziness of the space makes you admire how megan had managed to make this old abandoned cabin seem like a home.

(or maybe, that’s just megan’s touch.)

“what are you thinking about?” you ask, noting how she keeps her gaze fixed on the stove, her hands in her pocket as you two stand on opposite sides of the fire to warm yourselves.

“just felt nice to dance with you again,” she breathes quietly, as if it’s a confession.

“reminded me of that night in the field,” you admit, without thinking. you notice her brow twitch, and you take a careful step closer to her, tilting your head to try and meet her gaze. your voice quiets. “did it remind you?”

“it did,” she confesses.

the way her voice shifts is stirring something in you. you reach out, gently wrapping your index finger around her pinky, as if to test her.

“i think you should leave,” she breathes quietly, looking down at your now-laced fingers.

“why?” you ask gently, carefully.

“i can’t tell you why,” she answers quickly, something worried in those big brown eyes.

“i want you to tell me why,” you press, and you can feel it in your chest, bursting against your ribs, begging to be spoken out loud.

megan gives you a look, a look of hesitation, and you try to meet her eyes with your own pleading gaze.

“i want to ask you to stay,” she says slowly, “and then it’s going to crush me when you go.”

“so then i just don’t leave,” you whisper back, taking another step closer towards her.

“i can’t keep you here forever.” her brows are furrowed, and you can tell she’s debating something within herself.

“be brave enough to ask,” you press again.

“please stay the night,” she pleads, reaching for your entire hand, eyes sincere and voice shaky. “and then stay forever.”

you feel the thud in your chest multiply into a thunderstorm.

“do you remember my birthday?” you ask, holding tighter onto her hand.

“of course.”

“i wished for you,” you admit. “that i’d get to stay with you.”

“oh,” she says simply, her eyes softening.

“and then you promised me you’d take care of me for the rest of my life, and i felt like i was dreaming.”

megan bites her lip. “i broke any chance of that, didn’t i?”

“i want you to ask me again,” you press one last time, and megan doesn’t leave you waiting.

“i’d like a chance to fix it.” her eyes, wide, pleading, warm, dig into yours. she takes your hand and presses it against her cheek, scanning over every inch of your face. “all of it.”

“i need to hear you—” you start, but she cuts you off quickly. this stupid cowboy, who knows you like the back of her hand.

“i love you, y/n,” she beats you to it, your hand still caressing her face, but she pulls at your belt loop to bring you close, her strong arms pulling you in to press you into her. she presses her forehead into yours, her eyes scrunching shut as if the confession pains her. “i love you like you wouldn’t believe. loved you then, love you now, think i’m gonna be stuck loving you until i’m old and grey.”

you don’t need anything else, and a part of you thinks megan knows that. you pull at her jaw to kiss her, a kiss to make up for each one she’s owed, and the echo silences itself as she kisses you back forcefully, eagerly, her strong arms wrapping around you to lock you in place against her.

back in megan’s arms, you are home.

“i missed you,” she breathes into your neck, sliding your shirt over your head much too easily, the kisses she plants along your collarbone sending shivers through your entire body. “a lot.”

“mmhmm, less talking,” you hum playfully, one hand grasping the back of her neck to keep her close as the other trails off under her shirt and up the hard planes of her stomach.

“i’m serious,” she pushes, nearly a growl. you haven’t heard her voice like this, low and gravelly in your ear, and it sends a twinge through every nerve in your system.

“i know you missed me. you punched some stranger in a bar just ‘cause he tried buying me a drink,” you tease. you pull her hand away from your belt and point to her swollen, bruised knuckles as if to prove your point.

“i punched him ‘cause he touched you,” she blurts, stopping her movements to hover over you in the bed and meet your eyes. her dark eyes are taken over by something that makes your heart race. “i saw red. i couldn’t even look at another person after you left.”

“the whole time?” you ask breathlessly, wanting to squirm beneath her but she has you trapped beneath her strong arms as she simply stares, looking you over. “were you waiting for me to come back or something?”

“i felt sick thinking about anyone else,” she grimaces. “and i felt sick thinking about you with anyone else.”

“i didn’t think i was ever going to see you again,” you confess, and you feel her pause, connecting the dots.

“did you think of me?” she finally asks, eyes searching for something in you.

“all i could do was wish they were you,” you admit.

there’s a heavy pause, megan still hovering above you, but you see something flip in her, those dark eyes unrecognizable. she sits up, pulling her own shirt over her head in a swift motion before she runs a finger along your bottom lip, her calloused thumb tracing your teeth. you’re eager to beg for her to do something, anything at this point, but the moment you try to sit up to kiss her back, she pushes you back down by the sternum, her hand staying pressed against the base of your neck. her forcefulness makes your brain go numb.

“each of them, all i could do was wish they were you each time, megan,” you repeat desperately, seeing the effect it had on her the first time. your wish is granted, and she leans back down to nip a quick, forceful kiss into your neck.

“that’s my girl,” she murmurs into your ear, before stepping back next to the bed to stand and let you watch her undo her belt buckle. you feel your mouth go dry at the sight, your pulse racing at the clank of the metal and the impending zip of her jeans.

“yes i am,” you grin, before she reaches back for you, strong hands pulling at what’s left of your clothes to reclaim what belongs to her.

the next morning, you’re back in time 3 years and reliving the summer romance with the wrangler. you know your timeline is shorter now, but that doesn’t make it any less thrilling to be back in megan’s arms.

she’s carrying you on her back as you two wade through the pond, your arms wrapped around her neck as you bury your face into the crook between her neck and shoulder. your whole near-drowning thing had traumatized her, and she refused to let you near the water without her present. you don’t mind– you’re enjoying the feeling of her strong back, admiring her pretty face and slicking her hair back from the water our of her eyes.

“why did you quit the ranch, when you said you’d stay?” you ask curiously. there’s two days left with her, and you want to use it making up for lost time, unpacking everything left unanswered.

“found something that i loved more than i loved the ranch.” she says, as if it’s that simple. she splashes at a dragonfly along the surface of the water. “it hurt too much to keep thinking of you everywhere i looked.”

“you missed me,” you repeat from the night before.

“if only you knew half of it,” she hums.

“what did you do to that tree out there?” you point to it, the cut up one by the water. “it looks like a wolverine mauled it.”

she hesitates for a split second, before a sheepish smile takes to her features.

“i told myself i couldn’t keep driving myself crazy, so i’d make a notch in the tree for every day i still felt like i missed you. i promised myself that once i stopped putting tallies in there, i’d be officially over you.”

you wait for the resolution, but it never comes.

“i killed the tree. too many notches,” she says flatly. “the days i’d missed you didn’t end.”

“that’s a lie,” you laugh, splashing water onto her face.

she shakes her head and turns to look at you from over her shoulder, her gaze serious.

“y/n, i never got over you. you took a part of me with you,” she breathes.

“i’d like to take all of you with me, this time around,” you tell her quietly.

“as you wish,” she smiles, and you reach for her jaw to melt into a kiss over the song of the cicadas and the frogs.

tuesday comes, and you’ve spent every moment with megan, to the point that it’s your first time coming back to the lodge in almost 24 hours to pick up fresh clothes.

“you plannin’ on staying the rest of your trip up there at the cabin with the kid?” your aunt asks, arching an eyebrow at you as you run into each other by the stairs.

“maybe,” you eye her hesitantly, but she waves you off quickly.

“don’t play coy, i’m not bein’ nosy,” she rolls her eyes, pushing you by the shoulder as a reprimand. “i need to know if i can give your room to your other cousin when she finally gets up here tonight.”

you smile faintly. “that should be fine.”

moments later, megan shows up on one horse for your two person trail ride, and you realize all notions of keeping this to yourselves are good as gone. your aunt gives you a look after she spots the ginger out the window.

“i’ll have the boys take your stuff over to the cabin while you’re gone.”

“thank you,” you nod.

megan spots you through the window, and breaks out into a giant smile as she tips her hat down at you. you look up to see your aunt witnessing the entire thing.

“i’m glad you came back, y/n.” she says simply. “i think we all are.”

“i am too,” you finally admit. she waves you off, and you slip out the door to go run into your cowboy’s arms.

the night before the will-reading, you get an email that your flight is delayed til thursday, and it gives you an extra few hours with megan. you change your train ride to thursday morning, and the two of you spend the extra time locked away in the cabin.

“i owe you a real apology,” she mumbles, pressing her lips into your shoulder blade from behind as she spoons you. her voice is soft against the combination of evening crickets and curious owls. “i’m sorry about everything.”

“you already apologized,” you shake your head, watching the flames from the oven cast shadows against the wall, outlining her face into the wood. “i forgive you. i owe you an apology too.”

“you have nothing to be sorry about,” she says back quickly, her fingertips dragging along the skin of your thigh and up to your hip.

“i tried to push you to heal sooner than you were ready for. i thought i could fix you.” you had done your own reflection, and granted, it doesn’t excuse how things ended, but you know there’s no moving beyond this without accountability. “i wouldn’t know what it’s like to miss someone like that. i judged you for something unimaginable. i’m sorry.”

she kisses the dip between your jaw and your ear, her nose pressing into your neck.

“it used to be easy to just run away, but i think i’m healing confronting it head on,” she says quietly.

“proud of you,” you murmur back, reaching to pull her hand to your lips and kiss along her almost-healed knuckles.

“i wish you could have met her,” she says suddenly, her lips still against your neck, and your heart aches for her.

“i’m sure she was perfect,” you say simply, and megan nods in approval.

“she would say the same about you.”

wednesday. the will reading, which they decide to do on the porch of the ranch, as your grandpa would have wanted.

your cousin is less than thrilled when the attorney reads off the list of allocations and indicates that grandpa’s truck is indeed in his name. he gives you the keys as soon as they’re handed to him, and megan’s eyes widen in surprise.

“the old ford?” she questions, her voice quiet to not disrupt the rest of the proceeding. “it’s your uncle’s favorite.”

“uh, it was your favorite if i remember correctly,” you laugh. “you spent so much time fixing that stupid thing up.”

“i fucking loved that thing,” she beams, and you realize maybe that was your motivation this whole time. “you’re so cool.”

your cousin’s whining voice bursts you and megan out of your bubble.

“y/n’s not even listening, and she’s got the ranch in her fucking name!” your cousin bemoans.

you feel your heart fall into your stomach. “excuse me?”

“i told him i’ll take care of it until i’m tired, but i won’t turn into old pete and waste my life wrangling cattle til i’m grey.” your uncle dusts his hands on his jeans, getting up from the rocking chair where he was seated. “we don’t have kids. i saw this coming. he said you were the only person who saw it for what he saw it for.”

“but med school is–” you start, but he waves you off.

“i’ve got a few more good years left in me. do what you gotta do, then sell it when the time is right.”

“that’s all in your name,” the lawyer nods at you as a dismissal, and you immediately turn to meet megan’s wide eyes.

“holy shit,” she says simply in disbelief, and you hear your great-aunt grunt in disapproval.

“you could give it to the kid,” your aunt suggests, motioning to megan. “we all know she’d take care of it like nobody’s business.”

you look at megan, who stares back at you, dumbfounded.

“what would you want to do with it?” you ask.

“baby, it’s the fucking ranch,” she gapes. you take her hand and pull her a few steps away to hide out inside, away from the ears of your family.

“do you want to stay and watch it with my uncle, while i’m gone?” you ask her gently, holding both hands in yours, offering her the solution you feel she’s been waiting for. “you could go back to your old life.”

for some reason, the offer feels like you’re letting her go. but you know how much this property meant to megan, and something about her coming back to claim it as its steward feels so, so right.

but instead, she looks at you with determined eyes. she shakes her head.

“i’m not making the same mistake twice,” she nods, assuring you. she gives your hands a squeeze. “i choose you, and everything else will turn out alright.”

“i don’t know if you’d be happy in the city,” you sigh, brushing your fingertips across her sun-kissed cheeks.

“not running from anything any more.” she grabs your hand off her face and presses a kiss into your open palm. “i’m happiest where i’m with you.”

“okay,” you breathe. “so we let my uncle keep going til he retires. does that mean you’ll come with me now?”

“i’d need to get brucey,” she says hesitantly. “and he doesn’t fly very well.”

“i’ll go with you to get him.”

“you will?”

“let me fly home, then i’ll come to wherever you are. we’ll road trip, move you out, grab bruce. when is your lease up?”

“i’m monthly, work for lodging and pay.”

“okay. so we get bruce, you move in with me in the city. i start med school, you…”

you pause, seeing the look in her eyes. the planning, the talking about the future so concretely, it scares her, you know it does. the last time her face changed like this was your last day, that summer. you feel yourself want to vomit.

but megan knows you, and she can sense your apprehension. she reaches for your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“i can work on cars,” she offers gently, a smile on her lips. “until you’re done with school.”

“that’s an option.” you nod, beaming at her optimism. they feel like shaky steps towards you, not away. your eyes water at the thought of a happy future with her, one you had imagined was ripped away from you.

“or work with animals.” she grins back.

“or go to trade school,” you build on her idea.

“the future, it’s scary,” she breathes. “but it’s gonna come whether i’m ready or not. might as well get ahead of it.”

“and then i finish school, do a fellowship, and once i’m finished, we come back.”

“really?” her eyes light up brighter than anything you’ve ever seen. “you don’t want to sell it?”

“i don’t need a busy life. just a rewarding one,” you tell her, smiling. “small towns need doctors too.”

“i don’t want you to give up your dreams,” she says worriedly, tilting her head in concern.

“you taught me how to slow down. please don’t expect me to be helping wrangling baby cows every morning, but i wouldn’t mind you still being a cowboy. it’s what you live for.” you reach up to tilt her chin back up, reassuring her as you fix her hat. “it’s not giving up. it's a beautiful compromise.”

she grins back at you, and takes the hat off her head to fix it on your own head.

“i like compromise with you.”

your final night before your 6am train ride to the airport, she takes you camping in the fields.

she explains the concept of a harvest moon— a full moon so big and so bright, early farmers could work all night collecting their harvest by moonlight alone.

the fire she’d built starts to dim down, and you feel the exact same way. you could watch her in the moonlight for the whole night.

“that’s sagittarius.” she points up an arrangement of stars, her feet crossed and her head propped up on a backpack she’s using as a pillow. you’re laying so comfortably cuddled into her, your head resting on her chest, lulled into a cozy haze by the song of the mountain and her perfect voice in your ear.

“no way,” you drawl, forever impressed by her knowledge.

“and that’s asparagus.”

you blink quickly in confusion. “what?”

“and that’s me getting a headshot in fortnite.”

“you’re stupid.” you push into her shoulder, laughing. “i knew you were full of shit.”

she smiles back and presses a sweet kiss into the top of your head, letting her lips linger against your hair.

“i’ll see you in a week?” you ask, and the question doesn’t feel as heavy as you had thought it would.

“yes you will.” she kisses your head again, humming into your hair. “that’s a promise.”

“thank you.”

“i had you once, and that meant everything to me,” she tells you, breathing you in once more. “i think i spent my whole life waiting for you.”

“i’m here now,” you remind her, cuddling in closer.

“never letting you go again,” she reassures you.

(you believe her.)

“hey baby, the neighbor is asking again when you’re going to sell him the truck,” you call out, pushing past the door into the apartment.

you’re kicking your shoes off in the hallway, giving a quick rub to bruce’s head as he greets you. you hear the rumbling from the kitchen, and you pop in to see the jeans and a vintage tshirt, with her head and torso under the sink, doing something to the garbage disposal.

“he can kiss my ass. that thing is staying in the parking spot that i pay for until the end of our lease,” she threatens back, sliding out from under the sink and washing her hands before hitting a switch. in an instant, the same garbage disposal that was broken this morning is magically back and working. “i’m not driving anything smaller.”

you laugh, reaching out for her. “you and your stupid ego.”

“hey, everywhere i’ve ever lived, lifted trucks are like, the shit,” megan grins, wrapping her arms around your waist to pull you in for a greeting kiss. “it’s the biggest thing we work on at the shop.”

“oh, i bet you’re the number one lifted truck modder in the city,” you nod playfully.

“i’m alright.” she shrugs, wrinkling her nose, but she’s fixed on the topic of her damn truck. “thinking about how sad you’d look getting dropped off by some rizzless loser in a cowboy hat and boots, in a fucking minivan or something. just wouldn’t sit well with me.”

“yeah, all my classmates think the coolest think about me is you,” you gripe. megan’s insistence on taking you to class every day, in the truck, wearing what she always does, has made you quite the talking point among your first year med school classmates.

“so crazy, ‘cause i think you’re the coolest thing about me,” she grins, looking down at you with a glint in her eyes. “y’know what else i’m thinking about? summer time.”

“that’s still 2 months away,” you laugh at her eagerness. your last summer break before medical school fully takes over your life, planned to be spent on the ranch with megan, rotting away without a care in the world.

“we could get married up there,” she suggests out of nowhere, but her voice is so so sweet, it makes your heart melt.

“what is this, farmer needs a wife?” you tease, arching a brow at her. “i thought it was supposed to be a vacation.”

“okay, okay,” she holds her hands, clearly playfully displeased with your response.

“hold your horses, there,” you goad on, and she narrows her gaze at you.

“oh, now you’re just being a pain.”

you grin. “if the boot fits.”

“enough with the puns,” she groans, rolling her eyes, grabbing you by the waist to swing you easily over her shoulder and whisk you into the bedroom, your scream laughs filling every corner of your apartment.

your summer vacation comes, and the chilly montana nights welcome you both back with open arms.

she slips her jacket over your shoulders, and the motion feels as natural as breathing. you see the front pocket is still full of the flowers she picked for you along the trail, meant to press into your book along with a few of the letters she had written you. you keep your favorite letter one in your back pocket, eager to read it to her in between chapters of your book.

you’re walking behind her, following her steps as she confidently leads you two through the field. she’s singing something mindlessly to herself, her voice filling the air comfortingly.

you tuck your hand into the pocket, trying to warm your fingers, and feel yourself freeze. your fingertips trace along the edge of the object, the edges too wide to be her swiss army knife, the top being the wrong texture to be a pack of cigarettes she might be hiding–

your pulse quickens as you realize inside the pocket, you feel a little box. small, velvet, that kind of box.

“where are you taking me?” you ask quickly, the realization striking you.

“don’t worry about it,” she waves you off. you can’t see her face, but you can hear the grin in her voice, and you can’t tell if you finding the box is part of her plan or an innocent mix up. with megan, it could quite frankly go either way, and you can’t tell which one makes your heart swell more. “ain’t anyone told you that it’s bad luck to question a cattle wrangler on a full moon?”

“you’re making that up.” you try to keep your voice even, not wanting to ruin her plan as the two of you keep walking, but you feel the back of your throat go dry.

“maybe,” she shrugs playfully.

“stupid cowboy,” you try to bite back, but you feel your voice shaky, and she simply reaches back behind you for your hand. she grabs you, and the two of you keep walking, her paces strong, steady, keeping you alongside her easily. she smiles knowingly, and tips her hat down, her eyes fixed on the skyline.

“i love you too, city girl.”

(the letter rings through your ears, your favorite one out of all of them, etched into your memory at this point so deeply, you know it by heart.

i don’t know if you’ll ever read these, but i fell in love with you that day that you read to me. which one? your smart ass is going to ask. not the one by the creek, or the one by the cows. it was the one on the roof, where you told me to quit smoking. i realized that day i have something really, really beautiful i’m excited to live for. i really, really love you, y/n.

-your cowboy, forever.)

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reiiaokii · 21 days ago

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chat guess what drops tomorrow.....

(tbh lwk excited that i beat my own anticipated timeline? both parts in 1 week that's that cowboy!megan espresso)

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reiiaokii · 21 days ago

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THIS IS THE BEST THING IVE SEEN ALL DAY OMG WTFAKKAAKKAKAK

mel x cait as doechii x jennie

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reiiaokii · 29 days ago

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┈─★ 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵 ( 𝗯𝗼𝘆, 𝘁𝗲 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗼 )

⊹ ࣪ ˖ everyone has warned you about the less than shining reputation of women's hockey team captain daniela avanzini. arrogant, hot-headed, so, so bad for you, and extremely off-limits. so why is it that you can't get the blonde out of your head?

ˎˊ˗ ❄️ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🔓୭˚. ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

➴ pairing: hockey captain! daniela avanzini x coach's daughter! f!reader

➴ genre + wc: 23k, college au, forbidden/off-limits romance, friends w benefits to lovers?, sneaking around, slow burn, angst, bad communication, they start off toxic sorry not sorry, fuckboy/fratboy jock dani, reader's "i can fix him" energy is much too strong, however "you fall first she falls harder."

➴ you might want to tune in...: te quiero - kiss of life

┈─★ a/n: and we are all now officially full circle in the ditto verse to welcome home our fav fuckboy daddy dani <3 let me know what you think. i know it was a ton but i had so much fun exploring this dynamic i just couldn't stop adding to it. i'm gonna miss u hockeyverse!wigline but they were genuinely so much fun to write. hit me up with any ideas for anyone, i'd love to write a few shorter things/imagines and get more creative! thank you again for your time and all the love everyone has given this series! <3

cw:// mentions of recreational drug use, suggestive themes, mild violence but it's a hockey fic so that was to be expected i think....

[*set one year following the events of ditto/hlbwfil!]

“and another thing, your location stays on at all times.” your dad’s rambling to making sure you know exactly how little freedom you have. “you go to class, you come to practice, you go to the library maybe, and you go home.”

you cross your arms. “dining hall?”

“fine, dining hall.” he huffs. “i want permission before you step foot off this campus.”

“not happening,” you tell him simply. the vein in his forehead looks like it’s about to burst.

“oh, are you paying for your own lawyer? after all the shit you pulled, you’re lucky you were even able to transfer.” he glares you down, his brow twitching. “i’m trying to keep you from ruining your life, y/n.”

“y/n,” your mom adds sternly, as a warning. “you have no idea how lucky you are that you get to start fresh after this.”

“yeah, no cheer, no friends, basically under house arrest, finishing college in the stupid boring city i grew up in instead of literally anywhere else. i feel like a real winner,” you roll your eyes, disappearing upstairs to go find your laptop before they can keep lecturing you.

you can talk back all you want, but they’ve never listened anyways.

the last thing you want for your junior year of college is to have to start over, but here you are, trying to memorize the layout of this confusing campus before classes start tomorrow. you slip your earphones in and close your eyes, trying to get some rest. you have a feeling this semester is going to be a hard one.

you’ve always hated growing up in this city. he drives you to campus together and you hate the fact that you’re a year away from graduating and getting a ride from your dad still. you find your way around your first few classes and end sitting next to a gorgeous bobbed girl in your world literature class.

“do you care about this stuff?” you ask, figuring you might as well make friends if you’re going to have to start over.

“i do,” she nods.

“would you be down to study with someone who doesn’t?”

she laughs and gives you a quick once-over. “you give trustworthy vibes.”

your dad was extremely clear. classes, practice, then straight home. you make your way to the stadium to get to their practice, under your dad’s direction after you get lost twice. you hate feeling the eyes on you as you walk into the training area, clearly a new face amongst people who’ve been training together since the summer time.

“new prospect?” someone asks.

your dad clears his throat and motions to you. “this is y/n, my daughter, she’ll be shadowing for the season.”

“i didn’t know you had a girl, coach,” a blue-haired girl says curiously, waving up at you as you set your stuff down on a bench.

you’re not surprised. he usually only talks about the boys, your two older brothers, and how one is currently a commentator for the nhl and the other runs a hockey training camp on the east coast.

“she’ll be stats manager,” he tells them, and it catches you by surprise— it’s the first you’re hearing of it.

“isn’t that the assistant coach’s job?” you question.

“always good to have an extra pair of eyes,” he says, glaring over at you, almost threateningly, and the double meaning isn’t lost on you.

“welcome to the team,” a tall brunette says to you as she gets on the ice, and you smile appreciatively at everyone who acknowledges you, even if it’s just kissing your ass to get better with your dad.

you hate starting new. you watch a red-haired girl, a ginger, and a blonde coming down the rafters, gear in hand, the blonde laughing as the red-haired girl tries grabbing her by the shoulder. they’re approaching you quickly, and maybe you should move out of the way of the player box, but by the time the thought occurs, they’re in front of you.

“off limits,” you hear the red-haired girl say quickly.

“what is?” you ask, but you’re cut off by a rush of someone in your bubble.

“hi,” the blonde girl, now just inches out of your face, greets breathlessly, a giant smile on her face. “you are absolutely gorgeous.”

oh god. it’s a strong first impression, but the way her dimple creases in the corner of her cheek makes your heart thud. you feel your cheeks turning red and already abandoning you.

“thank you,” you manage, before the taller ginger yanks her back.

“are you sure you’re related to our coach?” the red-haired one laughs. “the big bald dude who looks like he’ll shit himself at minor inconveniences?”

“dna test says i’m his,” you joke weakly.

you can hear them mumbling amongst themselves as they get on the ice and skate away.

“god damn,” the blonde shakes her head.

“off limits,” another girl echoes, shoving into her shoulder.

your dad hands you a clipboard, and the assistant coaches comes up to you to break down your new job. you look up and spot the blonde on the ice. the assistant coach’s words get lost in your ear. maybe you’ll let yourself enjoy the view.

practice is long and tedious. you’ve never been a hockey girl, much to your dad’s frustration, so watching this is like torture for the past two hours.

you hear a sharp whistle, the one that someone blows from between their teeth. your eyes snap up to meet those sharp mischievous ones, staring you down from the ice.

“dani, don’t fucking start–” you hear the goalie warn, but the blonde is already blasting past her, building up a dangerous amount of speed.

realizing her pleas are on deaf ears, the goalie cheers instead, hollering at the top of her lungs. you laugh. what a girl– if you can’t stop her, might as well cheer her on.

without a single ounce of hesitation, this “dani” girl pivots to skate backwards, braces down, and leaps up to land a recklessly tossed backflip. you almost wish she’d crash, just to wipe that shit-eating grin off her face– but no, she wobbles but sticks the landing, and you get the hint that this isn’t the first time she’s done something like this.

“avanzini, we said no more with the fucking backflips! stop showing off,” the assistant coach grunts. “ten laps since you want to be such a smart ass.”

she looks over at you one last time and flashes a grin at the assistant coach. “i’ll do eleven as an apology.”

she’s still doing laps when your dad gives a quick reminder about tomorrow’s practice and waves the girls off. they trickle off the ice and towards their gear one by one. you’re waiting for your dad before you hear a tap on the plexiglass, turning to spot the blonde waving at you from the other side.

“hey, don’t forget about me when you leave here today, alright?” she grins.

“already forgot your name,” you tell her, and you won’t mention having picked up on it from the goalie.

“it’s dani.” she breathes up against the plexiglass and traces the letters in. she grins charmingly, pointing to the word written in the fog of her breath against the glass. “d-a-n-i. now you won’t forget it, promise?”

you shake your head laughing as she skates past you. your dad is on another lecture as the two of you drive home, him rambling something about who knows what. you’re not listening, anyways.

you don’t want to give her the satisfaction, but her stupid antics worked. you can’t get the blonde out of your head.

chaewon, the girl from your literature class, adopts you and somehow you’re always 2 degrees of separation from that stupid team. chaewon is dating one of the defenders, the blue-haired girl named yunjin, but luckily chae’s other friends don’t care for hockey quite as much.

going to practice is still a pain, but the girls are never mean to you. you start to pick up on the names, the dynamics of the girls, and how your dad sees them. he mentioned last names to you before, but the names never stuck. you’re way better with faces anyways.

there’s a clear star on that ice, an insanely fast ginger who pushes so hard, she’s dripping sweat within minutes of each practice starting.

your dad never critiques one of the goalies, simply nodding at everything she does the way he used to approve of your brothers. you pick up on her likelihood of being your dad’s favorite and make a mental note of it. she’ll be the one you hunt down when you need to get out from under his radar.

and that damn blonde. you see the way his head gets progressively redder and redder each time he screams at her. but what you like about her is she bites right back— for every call your dad makes that someone else swallows and takes on the chin, daniela is pausing practice entirely and challenging him on it.

“i’m not arguing with you again, avanzini,” he growls at practice during week 2 of school. his face reddens as he blows the whistle. as much as you expect for the whistle to resume play, daniela holds her hand up to the rest of the team. they stay frozen on the ice.

listening to this girl, instead of the head coach? when you did cheer, your coach’s word was like god. to see just how much influence the blonde has on the group is terrifying.

“give me one good reason why kazuha should sweep left if she’s right dominant instead of passing,” dani questions.

“throws off incoming offense,” your dad responds.

“no, it throws off our outgoing offense,” daniela pushes back, nearly a growl. “if zuha passes backwards to yunjin, megan’s fast enough to catch whatever she sends up and i can block off anyone incoming.”

“megan’s fast but not—“

“i can be faster,” megan chirps up, nervous eyes on your dad as she hides behind the shorter blonde. “dani always knows where to put the puck. if we fake it and send it back to yunjin, dani can make a hole, and i can be there.”

“do you hear how insane you guys sound, intentionally losing ground?” your dad balks.

“kazuha’s strongest doing what she does best: covering right. yunjin’s powerful enough to get the pass up, and megan is fast enough to receive it.” daniela skates right up to your dad, where he stands in the player box, and gives a confident smirk. “and i’m damn smart enough to see who’s gonna try to intercept it.”

you can tell this is the girl that has cost him many sleepless nights. “the shit-head” as he used to refer to her when he’d rant about work.

the team has a friendly scrimmage against a neighboring team later that week before the season starts, you see the team’s synergy on full display. your dad runs them like a well oiled machine, working like a pack of lions to take down a kill with your dad orchestrating all of it.

and daniela, with that damn smirk as she blasts past everyone on the ice with expert precision.

“she’s not exactly the biggest, but she’s smart on that ice,” your dad tells you in the car after their scrimmage win, shaking his head. “smart as all hell. kills me that our team captain is such a shit-head, but damn can she can perform.”

“and left wing, that position with that ego?” he keeps rambling. “when i met her before her freshman year, when she had first signed with the university, i was shitting myself thinking she’d be a puck hog, but she’s such a team fucking player. her and kazuha set megan up like clockwork. that little megan is shaky off the ice but such a force when she’s got the right set up.”

“and daniela is the right setup?” you question curiously.

“daniela and kazuha. they work together.” your dad explains, gesturing with two fingers side by side. “the defensemen keep to the back to support the goalie, and the wings work together up front to support the center.”

“okay,” you breathe, but your mind is still on that damn captain for reasons you can’t explain. maybe hockey has some redeeming qualities.

“you know, kiddo, it’s nice to see you so interested,” he smiles as you guys pull into the driveway.

you choke back the laugh. maybe you’ll spare your poor dad from your inner thoughts.

the hockey girls are nice to you, but almost too nice. you can tell they’re tip-toeing as they assess how delicate you are. it sucks, because you’d love to make friends with them if you have to spend every day seeing them, but at least you have chaewon, and she’s exactly who you seek out when you decide to do a little digging.

“what do you know about daniela avanzini?” you ask her one day out of the blue, as you’re in line together for coffee.

“oh, she plays hockey with my girlfriend,” chaewon says, but you can tell there’s more she’s not telling you just by how she stiffened at the name.

“and?” you press.

“she’s the captain of their team.”

“and?”

“y/n, what are you trying to find out?”

“i’m just curious,” you shrug. “my dad can’t stop talking shit about her but she’s nothing but nice to me.”

“i’m sure she’s nice to you, just like all the girls are, so your dad doesn’t kill them,” chaewon laughs. she pauses, then shakes her head, letting out a sigh. “yunjin has her thoughts. dani’s… somethin’. i’m not a fan, personally.”

“you’re the first person that’s been honest with me,” you thank her. you hold onto her words for the rest of the day, even at the end of the night when you’re curled up in bed scrolling through your powerpoints for the next day.

chaewon doesn’t forget, and sends you a link. you open it and it sends you to a tik tok.

“who on the team would you not let your kid date?” the girl behind the camera asks, before cutting to several other girls on the team.

“dani.”

“oh, definitely daniela.”

“daniela avanzini.”

the final scene of the tik tok is the blonde herself, a big toothy grin, clearly not in on the joke.

“my name is daniela and i’m a left wing.”

you stare at the comments.

oh i get it

HI DANIELA (louder than the rest)

raw, in reverse, on my knees, whenever she wants it, til the bed breaks, til the neighbors call the cops-

you feel your curiosity multiply at the next related video, one of her giving a few press statements following last year’s championship win.

“we played smart and worked together. the only thing you can ask for is unity, and this year proves what a good unit can do.” she seems so serious in the clip, yet equally playful as you’ve seen her. an interesting balance for the face of their team.

“you were able to focus on all his despite losing player of the year?” the interviewer asks.

“i’m player of the year in many people’s hearts, and that’s good enough for me. gotta keep a good head game up if i want to rep that C,” she responds.

you roll your eyes at the way she smirks at the camera. the comments all go crazy over her suggestive double meaning, but it’s the most viewed video on the account, so you kinda get it. dani is infuriatingly charming, and that makes for a great face for the team.

you feel your pulse race. god, what is it with you and the intrigue of this girl who everyone is telling you to run far, far away from?

“hey!” lara greets you the next day after the girls all finish up with physical therapy. she’s always been particularly passionate about making sure you feel included, and recently, you’ve let yourself believe it’s a sincere attempt at forging a friendship.

“what’s up?”

“a few of us are going back to my place to watch tapes on the tv, prepping for the game.” she hands you her phone, opened to the dial pad. “you’re welcome to join us.”

“you sure i won’t be intruding?” you ask before giving her your contact info.

“not at all. we’ll be up late. it’ll be like a fun hockey sleepover.” lara smiles, before motioning over to the ginger. “don’t let the puppy dog scare you off, we fed her once and now we can’t seem to get rid of her.”

“if i knew being your housemate meant you’d keep making that stupid stray dog joke, i would have just stayed living in the dorms,” megan glares at the older girl.

you laugh and nod in appreciation. “i’d love that. i think chaewon is getting tired of me interrupting her study time. i’ll be there.”

your dad is actually quite pleased to hear you’ll be reviewing tapes, and drops you off at lara and megan’s place just a few minutes off campus. you figured lara’s name would be the key to getting out of house arrest, and you were right.

the house is huge and slightly messy, littered with clothes and meal prep boxes, the clear home to some very serious student athletes.

you’re getting comfortable on the couch as megan runs to get you a water bottle, when a bedroom door opens and you’re staring directly into the dark mischievous eyes that have been stuck in your head for the past two weeks.

“what are you doing here?” she asks quickly, narrowing her eyes in confusion.

“reviewing tapes.” you blink as you realize whatever room she came out of, she came out in only some shorts and a sports bra. you try not to objectify her, but damn is she making it hard. “same as you?”

“i live here,” daniela responds quickly, and you come to the realization that lara didn’t specify megan as her only roommate.

“put some clothes on,” lara rolls her eyes, throwing a hoodie in dani’s direction. “we have company, you animal.”

“sorry you’re jealous of my insanely hot bod. if you looked like this you’d be half naked everywhere too,” the blonde pushes back, and you try to ignore the way you feel your heartbeat in every vein as she hops over the back of the couch and gets comfy next to you on the couch as lara turns on the first video.

you begrudgingly share with lara that your dad is extremely protective, and she’s the only one he trusts you to hang out with. she beams proudly and promises to not get you into any trouble with curfews or whatever.

lara’s girlfriend joins you guys just a few minutes later, as do a few other girls from the team. being alone with them away from your dad helps them loosen up a little, and it’s actually really fun to see their actual dynamic instead of the fake niceties you see as they try to be on their best behavior at practice.

11pm rolls around, and your dad shoots you a text letting you know he expects you back before midnight. you want to scream at how little freedom you have even at your grown age, but the girls are all extremely understanding and offer their own solutions to helping you get home without having to rely on your dad to come pick you up.

“i can uber,” you wave them off, not wanting to inconvenience anyone.

“no, dani’ll drive you home,” lara states firmly, pulling out her phone. “i’ll vouch to your dad for you since i’m your designated guardian angel.”

you don’t want to be a burden, but the thought of getting to finally talk 1 on 1 with the girl stuck in your head sends your pulse racing.

“is that okay with you?” you ask, turning towards the captain in question.

“yeah,” she nods, getting off the couch and slipping on her sneakers. “lar, give me the keys.”

“no stops, no detours, no nothing,” lara warns, tossing her the keychain. “it takes 15 minutes to get there so i’m gonna watch your location. if i don’t see you driving back home in 16, i’m calling the police on you.”

“fine,” the blonde responds curtly, motioning for you to follow her outside.

“daniela, i’m so serious,” lara threatens. “be decent.”

dani rolls her eyes and waves her off as you two make your way to the car.

“thanks for being willing to take me,” you tell her, trying to be loud enough over the heater blasting. you don’t know how she’s able to just be out in the fall-time weather in a hoodie, shorts, and some socks.

“no worries.” she shakes her head, eyes locked on the road. “coach doesn’t want you out of his sight or what?”

“he thinks being on high alert keeps me out of trouble,” you roll your eyes.

“what kind of trouble did you get into?” she asks curiously.

you freeze. ugh. and this was supposed to be your fresh start.

“i just really, really like doing things i’m not supposed to,” you answer after a moment, hoping it’s enough.

“ah,” she says simply, her jaw hardening, but there’s a smirk threatening to come out. “that’s my bad habit too.”

you admire the way the red lights illuminate her skin, the roundness of her features, the contrast against the sharpness of those mischievous eyes.

“kind of embarrassing that you know my dad like that,” you wrinkle your nose.

“he’s not that bad, as far as coaches go, obviously can’t speak about him as a dad.” she snorts. “i’d kill to have a dad that passionate about hockey.”

“have your parents ever seen you play?” you ask, hoping to get to know more about this girl.

she looks at you in surprise. you wonder if she’s ever been asked this question or what.

“when i was a kid, they were at every game. not so much for collegiate.”

“live too far or what?” you ask curiously.

she smiles, but it’s a smile of hesitation. you try to read what she’s debating within herself.

“they cut me off when i was 18.”

“why?”

“tried to bring a girl home for my birthday.” she clicks her tongue. “big mistake.”

“you’re serious?” you ask, half-shocked at the answer.

“they cut me off, and the girl dumped me. double whammy. luckily, lara’s family took me in for the summer.”

“how far back do you guys go?” you ask, curious about their dynamic. of course they’re also close with megan, but lara has always seemed particularly protective of dani, weird considering dani is technically in a position of power over her friend.

“we met at a hockey camp in the 5th grade,” daniela smiles. “every time her parents see us play, they cheer for me too.”

she’s so sweet, sharing this piece of herself with you, you figure she deserves a piece of your puzzle too.

“i got kicked out of school because they caught me with drugs.” you confess, and you don’t know what it is about daniela’s sincerity that makes you feel like you can trust her. “they weren’t mine. they were my friend’s, and she needs to be there, getting a cheer scholarship, going to school.”

“you took the fall?” she asks, and her voice is full of surprise without being full of judgement.

“i have a family, a house,” you explain, “she had literally nothing.”

she arches a brow and smiles at you through the corner of her eye, still looking at the road.

“i just thought you had a bad attitude,” she teases.

you laugh. “i have that too.”

“as someone who could have easily been in your friend’s shoes, she’s lucky to have someone like you,” daniela tells you, and the sincerity in her voice makes your whole body go warm. you can’t help but dive into a deeper question, something that’s been clawing at you.

“dani,” you start, your voice dropping quietly. “can i ask you something?”

“as long as you’re prepared to not like my answer,” she laughs, and you catch yourself in the shimmer of her tooth gem.

you breathe out softly, trying to connect the dots.

“how come everyone is telling me not to be friends with you?”

daniela’s smile falls ever so slightly, her hands tightening around the steering wheel.

“are they?” she wrinkles her nose.

“kazuha said i’m off limits, lara’s whole ‘be decent,’ thing,” you remind her, trying to think back to other times the team has been weird about dani being around you. “have you bullied people off the team before or what?”

“something like that,” she shakes her head, staring off at the street.

“you’re the only person who doesn’t treat me weird because of my dad,” you tell her, “you’re not delicate or super nice to me like i’m going to snitch on you.”

“i’m an asshole to everyone,” she laughs.

“but you’re not an asshole,” you push. “you’re actually very, very decent.”

“is that a compliment? i’ll take it as a compliment.” she beams. “i thrive off attention, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“you’re hard to not notice,” you poke back.

you both laugh together as the car pulls into park. you half think about asking her to kiss you, those insanely beautiful lips achingly close, but your eyes dart to the time and you realize it’s 30 seconds until lara threatened to call. you hate this stupid house arrest shit.

“hope you don’t get your ass beat,” she says simply, and you laugh again.

“thank you for driving me.”

“don’t get used to it,” she reaches over your lap to unlock your car door, and the proximity of her body sends your brain into overdrive. she swing the door open and pulls back into her own seat. “you won’t get the princess treatment here.”

“wouldn’t want it anyways.” you give her a quick once-over before leaving the car, taking the moment in one last time. she waves as she watches you disappear back inside.

maybe the team thinks they know her, but the version you saw tonight of the blonde makes you feel like you’re going crazy. daniela checks off all the boxes. authentic, unfiltered, and infuriatingly hot. you fall back onto your bed once you get upstairs and let your mind roam into fantasy world, and you finally admit to yourself what it seems your body has known for much, much longer.

you have a crush on daniela avanzini.

the first game throws you straight into the deep end of college hockey. you didn’t realize how serious women’s hockey was to the university until you see the jam-packed crowd, nearly every single seat in the arena filled with screaming fans for the team’s season-opener game.

“good luck,” you tell the girls, nerves fluttering in your chest as you take to the coach’s bench next to your dad and the assistant coaches.

you spot megan press a quick kiss to her girlfriend’s lips and raise a thumbs up at you. a few other girls nod at your well-wishes, but that blonde is pushing past them all without an ounce of fear.

“don’t need it,” dani tells you simply, grinning before hitting the ice.

the game is insanely fast paced, and you never realized just how fun keeping up with hockey can be when you’re actually invested. the scrimmage was interesting but the actual game is addicting, violent and coordinated all at once, making it impossible to tear your eyes away. the girls dominate the first period, keeping an early lead on the other team. the second period is a strong play for defense to keep their lead up. it’s in the third and final period where they get a little shaky, the rookies starting to stand out from the veterans as a missed play accidentally gives up a shot to the other team, tying them back up 1-1.

your dad, infuriated by this misstep, calls a timeout and the girls all come zooming to the player box, dripping in sweat and drinking hurriedly from their water bottles.

“who cost us that fucking shot?” your dad roars angrily from the time out.

you know the only reason the other team got the puck was because of that new little freshman eunchae, who was losing steam in this last period and ended up too far back in her zone to catch the pass back from yunjin, giving it up by accident to allow the other team to score.

“me,” daniela immediately speaks up, and you feel your face twist in confusion. “it was me. i wasn’t open for eunchae to make it to me.”

before you can call her out for the lie, she shoots you a glare, and you realize what she’s trying to tell you.

“you’ll feel it in practice,” your dad threatens.

“i’ll get us up by two,” daniela bites back immediately.

“big talk for someone who just let us get tied in the bottom of final period.”

daniela leaps over the wall and takes back to the ice before the timeout is even called over. she’s skating hard enough to look like she’ll smash through the ice with each stride.

you analyze it. lara and yunjin sharing a look, eunchae looking both panicked and relieved as she sits on the bench and lets the other defenseman swap her in, megan skating up to dani and trying to say something to her. but daniela waves her off, pointing to a few spots on the ice, before the timeout ends, kazuha regains her position, and the faceoff starts once more.

you hate to admit it, lest it feed your crush any more, but holy shit, is daniela good.

the debate with your dad ramps her up into 6th gear. she was good before, but she’s insane now, her movements sharper, her skating harder. every time the puck ends up in her control, if she’s not taking a shot, then she’s making sure megan can. she’s absolutely relentless in her pursuit of catching up.

“she’s freaking their goalie out,” the assistant coach says, realizing what daniela’s intention is. the blitz at every opportunity has clearly exhausted the goalie on the other team, meanwhile lara in the goalie box has barely gotten a chance to see the puck due to dani’s aggressive offense. kazuha passes to dani, who makes a shot to bring them up a lead 2-1, but it doesn’t seem to be enough for daniela.

true to her word, the buzzer hits with dani sending a pass to a waiting megan, who scores them a final point.

ending score: 3-1.

“i better see you a half hour early tomorrow for that extra point you cost us,” your dad huffs at dani as the girls are barely coming off the ice.

“bring me a donut, big guy,” she bites back dryly, her chest heaving. you’re amazed she can manage to get the words out after how tired she seems.

you wait in the car as your dad does the post-game debrief, but when he gets in the driver’s seat, you have some pressing questions based off what you saw.

“she got the team up to the win. why are you so hard on her?” you ask as your dad drives you guys home.

“avanzini? that’s what a captain is for,” he responds in confusion.

“to be a punching bag?”

“to be responsible,” he corrects. “it was her call to start eunchae instead of letting her watch from the bench. i’m not blind, i know it was hong’s fault she lost that pass.”

“so then why did you let dani take the fall if it wasn’t her fault?”

“because it was her call.”

“but this is eunchae’s first game. i’m sure it gave her tons of confidence to see playtime and know her mistakes won’t cost her.”

“then hopefully avanzini finds it worth it.”

you won’t pretend to understand. you finally decide to commit and follow each of the team members on instagram. they all follow you back within the hour– all except for daniela.

your crush only grows, and yet, you feel like since that night in the car, something shifted for her. she’s less attentive to you, less eager for your attention, almost intentionally cold. she avoids your eyes during group meetings, stops sitting next to you during tape reviews, and she still hasn’t fucking followed you back on instagram. you don’t know what her deal is, but your intuition tells you to push deeper.

that’s why, when you spot the blonde curls peeking out from under a beanie at the coffee shop near your house your dad gave you permission to walk to, you tug her by the sleeve and smile as she turns around, pulling her headphones off her head.

“hi, did you drive here?” you ask curiously, noting that she’s breathing heavily and covered in sweat.

“i always stop here when i finish my runs,” she answers, but the way she’s eyeing the door makes you wonder what exactly she’s so eager to escape.

“perfect,” you sing song, reaching out to her with your hand outstretched. “walk me home?”

“bad idea,” she says quickly.

“good idea,” you push back. “plus, i owe lara her textbook back.”

it’s true, lara’s girlfriend had let you borrow a book for your class, and it’s sitting on the corner of your nightstand. maybe you just need an excuse to talk to her again, to figure out why she’s playing this game of hot and cold with you, and you figure she’ll respond best to directness.

“you’re avoiding me,” you tell her, less of a question than an observation.

“not true.” she shakes her head, taking a sip from her drink. “just been busy.”

“yeah, busy avoiding me,” you push.

“maybe you’re just annoying as shit,” she bites back, but there’s a slight grin at the corners of her lips that make it feel more teasing than hurtful.

“you wouldn’t know if i’m annoying or not, ‘cause you’re avoiding me, remember?” you answer.

“fine,” she gives in, wrapping her headphones around her neck and reaching for your arm. “ i’ll walk you home, just to prove my point.”

you can’t deny the satisfaction of knowing she’s giving in, and the way she guides you out of the door of the coffee shop by your arm makes you relish in the closeness. you’ve only had one real conversation with her, but it was enough to crave another one, and walking side by side up the sidewalk gives you a warm sense of victory in your chest.

“i know you covered for eunchae,” you start, feeling the breeze nip at your nose.

“don’t know what you’re talking about,” she smiles playfully, eyes focused on the concrete. “you know me, i just like making coach mad.”

“if you want a dad to yell at you ‘cause yours doesn’t, feel free to keep him.”

“you make me sound super fucked up when you put it that way,” she shakes her head. “like it’s a daddy issues thing.”

“the way you try to push his buttons on purpose makes it seem like a daddy issues thing,” you laugh.

“i just like getting under people’s skin,” she shrugs, and you feel your heart thud at that stupid damn dimple.

“you’re good at that,” you admit, and you almost forget what exactly you two are talking about. “too good.”

before you know it, you’re in front of the house, a cozy two story with a giant tree in front of your window that you and your brothers had planted when you were just kids.

“this is where coach lives?” daniela asks, looking up and down in surprise.

“i grew up here. i’d rather live alone in a dorm than with my parents, but that’s consequences or whatever,” you roll your eyes. “let me give you lara’s book. it’s upstairs.”

you push past the front door and realize dani is still lingering on the porch, staring hesitantly at the entrance.

“you can come in,” you reassure her, before noting, “nobody’s home.”

you see her eyes flicker up to you, assessing the lack of cars in the driveway, before she kicks off her shoes and follows you in.

daniela avanzini is in your room. you try not to make a huge deal out of it, but your mind is absolutely racing.

“don’t mind the boxes, i still haven’t unpacked all the stuff i brought back from school,” you warn. motioning to the piles in your otherwise tidy room.

“cute,” she smiles, pointing to the framed picture of you with your former cheer team. “do you miss them?”

“all the time,” you admit. “but we talk a ton, so it’s easier.”

“this one’s hot,” she says, pointing to the picture.

“don’t piss me off,” you warn, laughing.

you see something return to those mischievous dark eyes of hers as they flicker up to meet yours, her tongue pressing against her teeth.

“what if i like pissing you off?”

“you’d be admitting to liking me,” you answer quickly, and she grins back at you.

“you’ve got a smart fuckin’ mouth on you,” she says, wagging a finger in your face.

“yeah?” you challenge, feeling your pulse race as you push her finger away. “you’re pretty cocky yourself.”

“i like the attention,” she reiterates.

“but not from me?” you question playfully, taking a step closer into her bubble. “why were you avoiding me?”

“i was avoiding you,” she finally admits, reaching up to rub her jaw as she avoids your eyes. “i know you’ve done your research.”

“i want to get to know you, and you’re not letting me get to know you,” you push back, reaching out softly to link your fingers. the touch sends sparks through every nerve in your limb.

“i need to stay away from you,” dani groans, but the way her eyes come to fixate on you abandons what her words try to convey. you realize what’s happening– she’s cracking.

“says who?” you ask, reaching down so your fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. your fingertips brush lightly against the dip of her abs and you feel your mind go numb.

“says literally everyone,” she laughs lowly.

“everyone also says you have a mind of your own,” you push back, tilting your head to look at her.

“that i do,” she breathes, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips as her gaze flickers across your features. you feel drunk under the dizziness her gaze alone has.

“so are you going to think for yourself?” you challenge.

“i’m not a decision to take lightly,” she mumbles, bringing her fingers to trace up your arm and across your collarbone. “i think you’ll hate me if you get to know me.”

“i want to make that decision for myself,” you experiment with your fingers running along the elastic of her shorts. your hands are both starting to seek more and more skin along the other’s body.

“they made it crystal clear how off limits you are,” she groans. “you set me up to fail, and i fucking hate losing.”

“i think you should kiss me, like, now,” you breathe anxiously. you feel your pulse in your ears as she watches as she leans closer and closer.

but before she can close the gap between you two, you hear the loud shut of the front door, and the click of your mom’s heels against the floor. dani’s eyes flash to the open door, and she cooly moves away from you to sit easily on your bed, pushing you away ever so gently.

“y/n? d’you get back from your walk yet?”

“hi mom,” you call out. “ran into dad’s captain and she walked me home.”

“hi, mrs. y/ln,” dani grits through her teeth, eyes still locked on you, as your mom comes upstairs and greets you both. you hope the flush of your skin isn’t enough to sell you out.

“daniela, nice to see you again. thanks for keeping an eye on y/n for us.” your mom smiles sincerely, and you figure you’re in the clear. “i didn’t know you and y/n were friends, you’re welcome to come around more often.”

“i think coach y/ln would flip if he saw me here,” dani smiles knowingly, flashing you a quick look. “but i’ll be around.”

dani excuses herself, and your mom starts going on about the lawyers calling and how your case is going to get argued down to something that’ll easily come off your record. it’s a relief, but she’s still clearly irritated with the whole situation, and you ask to go to bed early to end the conversation there.

you look down at your phone as you make it back into your bed. dani has finally followed you back, and you see a private story posted.

a picture of the top of her head, simply captioned “tryna get up to something.”

you feel a pit in the bottom of your stomach and decide to just go to sleep. at the very least, you know you didn’t make it up.

“coach, can y/n come out with a few of us tonight?” lara asks at the next practice. you look up at her in surprise. they had just gotten back from an away game and lara had mentioned something about a greek life party she was eager to hit up. you knew there was no chance, but lara gave you a confident shake of her head and insisted she’d figure something out to get you there. you didn’t think this meant being so confident as to ask your dad directly.

“something small?” he raises an eyebrow at her.

“i’ll share my location if it makes you feel better,” she smiles.

“i trust you. stay with lara,” he waves you off, and you stare at the red-haired girl in disbelief. you won’t test your luck. she gives you a time to be ready to get picked up, and you thank god that your dad has favorites.

your history with college parties has been iffy at best. your cheer coach was notoriously strict. you’re jealous that the hockey girls have a different standard, but you try to push that thought away and focus on the positive: at least now, you can party without fear of punishment.

there’s another thought you want to push away: the thought of daniela in your room. lara, megan, and their respective partners are all in the car when they stop by to pick you up, but dani is nowhere to be seen. you make up your mind that tonight, you’re going to get over this stupid fucking crush, and you’re going to do so at all costs.

you’re only a few minutes in to the less-than-tiny house party and lara has already disappeared somewhere to go be alone with her girlfriend. megan is outside in the backyard laughing insanely loudly on the swingset with her own girlfriend. you start to regret not inviting chaewon or someone else outside of the hockey team, leaving you there alone on your own.

but then blue haired yunjin is popping up in your peripheral, offering you a shot, and you take it, deciding you have nothing to lose.

“no girlfriend tonight?” you ask.

“chae’s studying for her comps,” she wrinkles her nose. “i’d give anything to be making out with her right now.”

you laugh. “i’ll kiss a few strangers in honor of chae.”

“she’d hate that,” yunjin cackles, before serving you another drink. “but i love your intentions, so let’s pick your victim.”

“no, i get too picky,” you shake your head. “give me a criteria and that’ll be my victim.

“oh fuck yeah,” yunjin laughs, and you love how down she is. “hmm. next person to offer you a drink?

“you better put that fucking bottle down then or your girlfriend will kill you.”

yunjin shrieks with laughter and sprints off to leave the bottle back at the bar. she finds you once more and you two dive into the mosh pit of bodies all dancing together. she dances stupidly alongside you, and for a split second, you’re grateful that despite all you’ve been through this year, you can still find decent people you enjoy being around.

a pair of hands snake around your waist, and you see a bottle of tequila get presented to you from behind you. you feel the sweat and the faint musk of a familiar clean cologne from the stranger behind you. you nod at the bottle, looking up at yunjin as you realize your victim has been selected.

but yunjin simply stares back at you with wide eyes, shaking her head as if to warn you, before you turn and realize just what has her in such a panic.

or rather, who.

the stranger grabs your waist and pulls you closer, and you turn to come face to face with that mess of blonde curls. dani’s skin is flushed from what you assume is both adrenaline and drinks in her system. the two of you lock eyes and you feel the room slow down.

“hi,” you greet, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“hi,” she breathes back. those damn eyes scan over you, searching for something.

“we should find somewhere quiet,” you tell her simply. she eyes you, something dangerous in that dark gaze, but within moments she’s leading you upstairs, grasp tight around your wrist. you can see the shimmer of someone else’s lip gloss smeared on her mouth already, and part of it infuriates you.

but you’re finally alone, the back of your legs hitting the bed and leading you to sit down. she’s quickly invading your space, stepping in and planting an arm on either side of you to lock you in beneath her.

“i don’t make good decisions,” she warns you, and you let your hands untuck the front of the jersey she’s wearing, exploring the skin of her torso experimentally. she doesn’t stop you, and it makes your whole body tense.

“that’s fine,” you breathe quickly, the proximity dizzying you. “the bad choices are always more fun.”

you see her jaw clench as your fingers trace along her back, your nails pressing into her strong shoulders as an experimental test.

“last warning,” she breathes into your ear, her head falling to press her temple against yours. your heart feels like it’s about to leap out of your chest with how her guard falls.

“you’re finally going to let us be friends?” you grin, watching as she pulls away to go lock the door.

she glares back at you, something dangerous in those eyes, and reaches back to pull her shirt off in one smooth motion before a devilish grin takes to her lips.

“we’re not going to be friends,” she says simply, before leaping forward to finally claim you.

“you look like you’re in a good mood,” chaewon chirps as you race into the seat next to her in the early morning literature lecture.

you mention nothing of the fact that you’re on 2 hours of sleep, waking up late, ready to fall asleep at the table.

“did i miss anything?” you huff, trying to get a grip.

“colonization, racial undertones, empiricism, the usual good stuff,” she smiles, before eyeing you in concern. “i’m serious, everything okay?”

it’s one thing to hook up at the party, but when lara called you to let you know it’s time to go, it’s another thing to be pushing daniela off you so she doesn’t make you sound suspicious over the phone.

the ride back was spent in complete silence, lara not at all suspicious as to where you both disappeared for the few hours, but by the time you get back to their place, dani is covering your mouth with her hand to slip you into her room instead of letting you sleep on the couch where lara had initially offered.

you shudder as you fight off the flashbacks and try to focus on the lecture. “i’m totally good.”

“yunjin said she had fun hanging out with you last night,” chaewon goes on, showing you a picture the two of you had taken together that yunjin had sent her. “you guys went to that party together?”

“we ran into each other there,” you smile, loving how yunjin was so immersed in the party and still found a way to include her girlfriend. “we missed you. we both would have killed to have you there with us.”

“next time, maybe i’ll join,” chaewon smiles, and you drop your head into your hand.

class ends, and you’re almost disappointed to not see anything from daniela. no texts checking in on how you got home (an uber to your house before your dad woke up) or dm’s letting you know she’s even alive. you’ve never been clingy before, and you don’t intend to start now, but just being acknowledged would be nice.

your head is pounding as you walk to practice. as soon as you get home, you’re going to sleep as long as physically possible, and try not to think about how incredible daniela’s hands are at–

you push the thought away, but you spot the flash of blonde curls approaching the stadium at the same time. you swear she spots you out of the corner of her eye, but she keeps walking, bag slung over her shoulder.

you’re no stranger to one night stands, but at the very least an acknowledgement would be nice? you have to work together for the rest of the season. the least she can do is not be a giant fucking jerk.

you speed up to catch her and shove into her to get her attention.

“hi, i’m alive or what the fuck ever, if that matters to you,” you push into her shoulder.

“i warned you, and you found me.” she gives you a disinterested glare, and you almost can’t believe this is the same girl you had played such a fun cat and mouse game with. she keeps walking, and you speed up to keep up with her as you guys head to the locker room. “if you’re pissed that i didn’t call you, just call me first.”

“you are really fucking full of yourself,” you spit angrily.

“you can’t say you weren’t warned,” she shrugs, entering the empty locker room to put her bag into a locker. she takes off her jacket and hangs it up, reaching for her helmet out of her bag. “i’m not stupid. i know every single person on this team warned you about me. if you didn’t listen, that’s on you.”

“are you proud of that reputation?” you ask in disbelief.

“i know your type,” she smirks smugly. “you play hard to get and then you’re pissed when you give in ‘cause there’s no more mystery.”

“you don’t know shit about me,” you growl back, and something about having shared so much with her stings. you’re not mad about the hookup, you’re mad about buying all her vulnerable bullshit and thinking she wasn’t going to be every bit as shitty as everyone warned you she’d be.

“i know what you sound like screaming my name and you can’t take that shit back,” she laughs, and you want to absolutely fucking murder her.

“i don’t know why the fuck you’re being such an asshole, but you’re a piece of shit, and i hope you choke on that ice today,” you blurt, storming off towards the player box.

“you good?” yunjin asks, noting your expression as you two cross into each other.

“i’m fine,” you wave her off, and you have to bite back a scream as daniela hops on the ice, laughing her head off with megan and lara as if your interaction had never happened.

you try to hide your disappointment. a crush you had believed in so wholeheartedly, only to see that everyone else was right to warn you.

you’re relieved that your dad makes you stay home for the away games, and a break from having to see dani’s stupid face is exactly what you needed. the team leaves that weekend for a game and your mom takes over the hawk-eyed supervision, but it gives you a chance to introduce her to some of your new friends. chaewon comes over to do homework with you and brings along a friend from her english class named sophia, and you find out sophia is friends with megan’s girlfriend.

you desperately need someone to open up to about your entire experience with daniela, but knowing chaewon is less than her biggest fan, and sophia does her best to avoid hockey drama, you realize you’re probably shit out of luck. plus, you were fairly warned by literally everyone, and you still were stupid enough to get yourself involved with her, so really, it’s a fitting punishment that you deal with the consequences.

halfway through the study session, megan (sweet, angelic megan,) reaches out to you that night to ask you to run her stats from the game. the assistant coach took from the game, and you start running the numbers while sophia and chae bicker about where the best study spot on campus is. you feel your heart sink as you realize you’ll have to do this all over again for the rest of the semester: run the numbers from every game and inform the players, and you let out a loud groan.

“i fucking hate hockey,” you tell them, interrupting their debate.

“oh, do you know how beat up my girlfriend is when she comes home to me?” chaewon shrieks. “she’s like a zombie half the time. i can’t wait for her to be done with this stupid sport.”

“all the players are massive-ego’d idiots,” sophia echoes. “well, maybe not yunjinnie–”

“no, i’m not offended, yunjin can be so loud,” chaewon butts in, wrinkling her nose. “but that megan is really sweet.”

the three of you laugh. the ginger may be single handedly balancing the reputation of the team on her shoulders.

“well, they have an idiot for a leader,” you say, and they both chirp in agreement.

“i just have to hear about them, but you’re up close and personal,” chaewon gapes, shaking her head. “you’re a saint for dealing with all of them.”

you feel your ears get red. your closeness with daniela would probably be categorized as anything but holy, but that’s something you’ll end up taking to the grave, it turns out.

you guys end the night with a quick goofy round of youtube karaoke, sophia and chaewon trying to out-do each other so loudly your mom drops by in concern, and you can’t help but feel a little better at the idea of facing the team tomorrow.

“it’s like what, three more months left in their season, and then you’re free?” sophia reminds you as her and chaewon get into the car. “so easy.”

you’d like to believe her, but unfortunately, daniela wants to make it anything but easy for you.

you go player by player before practice starts, pulling them aside to show them their graphs. lara smiles at her current save rate, megan nods as you show her how fast she’s improving on her shot ratio, kazuha mumbles something to herself about more strength training when you give her the statistics on her pushbacks.

you suck in a deep breath and approach the blonde last, out of all the girls, to try and get it over with the fastest.

“your numbers are dropping.” you tell daniela simply, dropping the clipboard in her lap as she laces up her skates.

she shoots you a glare, biting the tip of her glove to pull it off her hand and flip through your pages, and you have to physically remind yourself to stop thinking about what those teeth felt like on your skin…

“what?” she questions, brows furrowing. you’re almost surprised by how shocked she sounds. clearly, you’re telling her something she isn’t expecting.

“your average. compared to this time last season, you had this many assists under your belt.” you point to the comparison curves on the graphs. “this season, you’re hitting numbers almost a third lower. harder time keeping up?”

“check your math, there’s no way,” she huffs, standing up and tossing the clipboard off her lap. you feel your blood boil at her attitude, but there’s something giving you a power trip about seeing how angry she’s getting.

ugh. you don’t want to admit the high it gives you to get under her skin.

“ouch, that struck a nerve.” you observe, fighting the grin that wants to take over your features. “you’re underperforming, avanzini.”

“i’m competitive,” she says curtly, eyes darkening, and skates off without another look in your direction. you hear her mutter something with a curse word in spanish, and somehow, it feels like a win in your book.

it’s not that you want to give daniela a hard time, especially if you’re going to have to be stuck together for the rest of the season, but by the time practice starts, she’s looking over at you every time she makes another pass or takes another shot. you won’t admit how much you like the attention she’s giving you, even if it’s just to prove that she’s every bit as good as her ego claims, but you hold onto the feeling of irritating her and how satisfied it makes you feel.

lara invites you out to dinner with them again, but dani stays back on the ice after everyone else leaves, and you consider yourself the winner that day.

dani calms down the rest of the week at practice, and is right back to ignoring you as you do your best to ignore her. you know there’s a chance you two can coexist peacefully– your friendship with lara and megan is actually quite enjoyable, even if dani makes a big deal of disappearing every time you come over or join the red-haired girl and her ginger sidekick. you kind of like the ability to not have to worry about daniela being around, but something in your stomach lurches every time you realize you’re still on her close friends story and she’s posting another shirtless photo surrounded by gorgeous random strangers.

you know she’s probably not even thinking about you, but she’s so fucking aggravating, you need to get back at her somehow to regain your sense of control.

so at the next evening practice, you decide to test another theory.

usually it’s just your dad who gives feedback to the girls, but he’s busy chatting with the assistant coaches and the trainee physical therapist, so you decide to put your clipboard down and lean against the half-wall to call out to the girls as they continue through their drills.

“nice shot, kazuha.”

as if they’re surprised to hear your voice, nearly half the team looks up at you, kazuha herself looking confused before breaking into a giant grin.

“oh, ah, thank you, y/n,” she beams, and the pure joy in her face makes you wonder what the fuck your dad puts these poor girls through if the slightest affirmation is enough to excite them this much.

“me next, me next!” lara calls out to you, and the two of you laugh as you wave her off. these poor, compliment-deprived jocks.

“you gotta do something worth cheering on, first,” you yell back to her, and all the girls scramble on the ice to push further. your original plan was to compliment every single player and leave out the captain, but as you look up, dani is glaring daggers at kazuha, who is still smiling from your call out.

maybe this will be a little easier than you thought. if dani is the attention seeking type, what easier way to piss her off than showing her how easily she can be ignored? and if you can find someone specific to make it feel personal, even better.

you try remembering the dynamics you observed among the team. your dad mentioned kazuha and daniela being partners on the ice, you know she’s protective of megan so that probably won’t make a difference, lara is too goofy to take the compliment anyways–

it clicks. you remember the way chaewon doesn’t like daniela. yunjin and dani might have some kind of rivalry between them.

you pray yunjin won’t make things weird. but as if perfectly on cue, yunjin practices a spinning check on daniela and sends the captain flying backwards, slamming into the plexiglass as easily as pushing a child.

“good shit, huh,” you call out loudly as the defender skates off. yunjin’s head snaps up from the ice, and she shoots you a bright grin and a thumbs up. a few of the girls even go so far as to laugh, and you send her a matching thumbs up to emphasize your point.

you look over at the blonde, and you see dani’s jaw twitch. something about yunjin specifically strikes a nerve. bingo.

your dad takes over practice again, and daniela skates like she’s trying to smash through the ice with each stride. she’s ignoring you fully this time, taking all her passes and shots as if she’s trying to break her stick each time she hits the puck, and you’re absolutely relishing in the fact that you got the upper hand. you write down a few notes in your binder and lose yourself in thought, before a whistle from your dad catches your attention.

“huh was wide open, avanzini,” your dad glares.

“i had a clear shot,” dani shrugs. you look over at yunjin, who is shrugging confusedly at lara and rolling her eyes.

“it was your idea to pass back to her,” he reminds her.

“an idea,” dani bites back, before skating off. “not a promise.”

your dad gives some quick recap speech about the upcoming home game, and the girls break. a majority of them head straight to the showers, and you’re there waiting for your dad to finish touching base with the assistant coaches, but you notice a small handful stay on the ice. all the starters, actually. you figure it’s what gets them their starting position– extra effort, extra talent.

kazuha is the first to leave after an extra 15 minutes on the ice. then lara follows, and yunjin. your dad is back out 45 minutes later, hand on your shoulder. you wave him off as he asks about taking you home.

“i’ll get a ride with lara or stay at her place. is that okay?”

“you want to watch these two? i knew there was a hockey girl inside there all along,” he smiles proudly.

“i want to finish my notes,” you tell him, pointing down to your clipboard.

“go home,” the assistant coach tells the girls still on the ice. it’s just dani and megan left taking shots, passing between the two of them, now almost an hour after practice has ended. you have no idea how the two have the energy to make it through practice, much less show up early and stay behind this late, and not be collapsing the next day. finally, an hour after practice, megan leaves to go to her girlfriend’s, and that leaves you alone with daniela.

she glares over at you, cold stare as she heads into the locker room. you follow, like a moth to a flame, not even sure what you’re planning on getting out of this conversation besides hopefully irritating her even further.

“i thought you weren’t a puck hog?” you taunt her, in reference to the reprimand from your dad for dani not passing to yunjin.

she shrugs, avoiding your gaze, as she pulls her helmet off her head and drops her gloves into her bag. “what can i say? i like the eyes on me.”

“hm, i can tell.” you say back.

“did you have fun watching huh today?” she asks, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she peels her jersey off her back. the black compression shirt she wears underneath is clinging to her, drenched in sweat, and it takes everything in you to peel your eyes away.

“yunjin is my friend, and i’m allowed to fucking cheer her on,” you remind her. “i thought you guys were friends?”

“we are friends.” before reminding you, “you and i aren’t.”

“you seem really weirdly jealous of someone you call a friend,”

“i don’t want to talk about yunjin,” she nearly growls, and you can’t wait to keep exploiting this soft spot of hers.

“why not? she’s improving, like a lot, and it didn’t sound like she had a lot to work on–”

in seconds, she’s grabbing you and pressing you against the locker, her hand against the bottom of your jaw.

“y/n,” she seethes, “if you want my attention that bad, you fucking have it.”

“tell me you’ve been thinking about me,” you press, and it feels almost obsessive. her full weight is pressing against you into the lockers and it makes your pulse race att the memory of her touch. “there’s no way you’re that fucking good at pretending.”

“of course i haven’t stopped fucking thinking about you,” she breathes, and it feels like a confession. “i’ve been trying to ignore you but you’re annoying as shit. are you pissed, or do you want me? you’re sending mixed signals.”

“i thought you could think for yourself?” you challenge back.

“i can,” her eyes are trailing off to scan up your body, her grip still firm against your jaw. “if it were up to me, i know exactly what i’d want from you. but coach’s daughter is extremely off-limits, in case you didn’t remember.”

“i know what i’m getting into,” you push back.

“i warned you the first time too,” she reminds you.

“just don’t play games with me,” you growl. “do what you want, and i will too.”

“it sounds like you want me,” she grins, leaning in so that your foreheads are almost touching.

“you think everyone wants you,” you roll your eyes, but your hands are already pulling at her waistband to pull her close. something about the fresh layer of sweat slicking her baby hairs to her neck and forehead is infuriatingly attractive to you.

“that’s ‘cause they do,” she hums back easily.

“you look at every reflective surface you walk past.” you shake your head. “you’re obsessed with yourself.”

“you’ve seen what i can do, i think you get it.” she leans down, experimentally letting her lips brush against your neck. “i’m pretty easy to be obsessed with.”

you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of a single word more, but the proximity between you two and the craving inside your bones takes over. she’s sweeping you up in one easy motion, your lips colliding with bruising force, and you lose sight of whatever it was you two were fighting about. when dani’s hands take over, everything you hated her for disappears from your mind, and all you focus on is losing your fingers in those curls as she pulls you into the showers with her.

you told yourself you wouldn’t get involved with anything dangerous at this new university– no bad influences, no friends that did illegal things, no risky behavior that can make things worse for you when you’re trying to start over. but when you made this list, you never considered that you’d get addicted to hooking up with the very hot, very irritating, very bad-for-you hockey team captain that already makes your dad’s life a living hell.

and it’s confusing, to say the least. she ignores and avoids you through the day, and then stays fixated watching you throughout an entire practice. she can go hours without texting you back but as soon as you post that you’re out with yunjin and chaewon, she’s climbing up the stupid tree in your yard to tap on your window and sneak in as if she hadn’t been radio silent the whole day.

you know it’s just a hookup, and nothing more, but something about how she overdoes it with ignoring you makes it even weirder when you two are rushing to see each other, desperately making up for the time spent apart. you won’t complain: between school, practice, friends, and now daniela keeping you busy, you don’t even have a chance to think about getting into anything else.

“i know what you’re doing,” she warns you one night after sneaking into your room again. she pushes you off her lap when you’ve spent a little too much time with your lips on one spot on her neck.

“feeling possessive,” you hum, running your fingers through her curls, admiring your work against her soft skin.

“you’re fucking crazy,” dani groans, but you catch the way she grins looking at herself in her phone. “it’s getting late, i should go.”

some would even call it romantic the way she steals lara’s car to come park it up the street and sneak into your room on the nights you can’t spend with her at her place. you guys are quiet enough to make sure nobody else hears, and you’ll admit that the sneaking around part makes things so, so much more fun.

“just leave before my dad wakes up,” you tell her, pulling her down by the neck to plant another kiss against her jaw.

“i’m only gonna spend the night in your room once you specifically ask me to,” she pushes you away and smirks at you playfully. “i’ll be around if you need me.”

“whatever.” you roll your eyes and turn to pull up your phone. “not gonna beg.”

“someone else will,” she says back, but not before jumping on the bed to plant a forceful, dizzying kiss on your lips. “bye, y/n.”

you want to rip your hair out, but it doesn’t make your heart thud any less watching her climb down and out of your bedroom window. you roll your eyes as she stops, looks up at you, and does another one of her stupid backflips right on your front lawn before disappearing into the night.

dani shows up to practice the next day wearing every single hickey you gave her on full display. she didn’t even try to cover them up. you guys lock eyes briefly and you can’t tell if she’s playing a mind game with you, or is just trying to play with fire and test your limits. you won’t give her the satisfaction though– part of you likes knowing the secret stays between you two.

“ah, heartbreaker dani strikes again. another sorority girl?” kazuha arches a brow, shoving playfully into daniela’s shoulder. lara shakes her head laughing and follows onto the ice.

nevermind. you feel your blood boil. maybe next time you should leave your initials.

your dad makes dani get off the ice and go put on a neck guard to stop distracting everyone. dani rolls her eyes but does so begrudgingly. your eyes meet as she hops off the ice and towards her bag.

“are they really a distraction?” she asks you casually.

“extremely.” you say, trying to match her non-chalance. “tell your girl toy to stop trying so hard next time.”

“she’s got a mind of her own,” she shakes her head, eyes lighting up with something unholy. “but i’ll do my best.”

the weeks pass and you guys don’t discuss the nature of your arrangement, but you both know it’s critical to keep it under wraps. your dad is thrilled that you’re spending so much time at lara’s, and lara and megan are too busy with their own things to notice dani either disappearing all night or letting you in.

your phone buzzes in the middle of homework and you spot the number, saved simply as “captain.”

come over

say please

i don’t beg but i’ll make sure you do so, again, come over

you roll your eyes at how easily you’re convinced.

“taking the car and going to lara’s,” you call out to your house, and your dad calls back in approval from the other room.

your stomach hasn’t quite stopped flipping when you pull into the trio’s driveway. daniela is already in the doorway, looking stupidly attractive in her oversized hoodie and baggy shorts, and you two nearly don’t make it to her room before she already has her hands on you, pulling you in.

you two fall back onto the bed and you’re straddling her much too quickly to call it casual. she pulls at your top and you try to regain some of your dignity by poking fun at her.

“wasn’t i just here this morning? so eager to have me back so soon,” you tease.

“you can stop showing up whenever, you know,” she bites back, putting her hands over yours to guide them to her hoodie. you take the hint and pull her hoodie off over her head, biting your lip in eager anticipation.

“you’d miss me too much,” you clip back easily. she smirks and reaches up from beneath you to capture your lips with hers, her fingers hooking into your waistband to start sliding your pants down your thighs. you know the motions by now and start to lean up to let her get them off from your ankles.

that is, until you hear the door swing open.

“have you seen my bite guard? i left it in the–” megan starts, but immediately pivots into a half- scream, hands flying up to cover her eyes. “oh, bro, jesus christ–”

oh fuck.

you and dani move equally fast to push off each other. you truly had convinced yourself that you two had mastered the whole sneaking around thing, so you’re not exactly prepared for whatever may come next. the dread sets in immediately. you can trust daniela, and you can trust yourself, but the last thing you need is someone else involved.

“you can’t tell my dad,” you blurt out immediately.

“oh my fucking god, not coach,” megan panics. “he’s going to kill me if he finds out.”

“why would he kill you?” dani squints at the younger girl.

“bro, i’m letting this happen.” megan brings an open palm to her forehead, beginning to pace around daniela’s room. “i’m complexit, or whatever.”

“complicit,” dani corrects quickly

megan ignores the correction and keeps rambling. “no, this is so bad. i’m basically putting the strap in your hand.”

“okay, meg, please, too far,” you groan, and daniela lets out a loud hollering laugh.

“i’m going to die and i literally just barely beat the virgin allegations,” she gasps.

you shake your head and give a look to daniela. is she always this neurotic?

“meg, please, go like, take some deep breaths over there. we’ll stop if it’s freaking you out that bad,” daniela tries to soothe her, pointing out the door.

“how long?” the ginger asks.

“oh my god bro, we’ve only fucked like, the past month.”

megan’s dark puppy eyes go wide, honing in on you. “a month is more than zero. i was hoping you would say zero.”

“are you asking for an apology?” you try to ask, desperate to make sense of why exactly she’s panicking.

daniela groans and finally gets out of the bed, tossing a hoodie over herself and handing you your pants back. she grabs megan by the back of her neck and waves over to you. “we’re gonna go.”

“where?” you question. it’s nearly 10pm and the tail end of a freezing october.

“where else? the lake, duh. she needs to hit the ice to calm down. we’ll be back.” she groans and grabs a few sticks tucked away in the corner of her room, before she drags the ginger out the door and shuts it behind them.

you let your head fall backwards onto dani’s pillow and stare at the ceiling, the dread sinking in.

you’re not quite sure when you dozed off, but you’re woken up to the sound of the door creaking back open. the familiar curls enter the room and dani comes to kneel in front of the bed, eye to eye with you. the gesture is sweet, almost tender, as if she’s trying to be close without waking you.

“i didn’t think you’d still be here.” she tells you quietly, before gently poking at your cheek. “awake?”

“i told my dad i was sleeping over at lara’s and he has my location. i can’t just leave my phone here,” you groan groggily at her. “meg okay?”

“she’ll be fine. she won’t say anything. believe it or not, we can keep secrets surprisingly well. ask lara what we pulled for her girlfriend last year.” she sits on the edge of the bed. “you stayed?”

“does me being here ruin your plans somehow?” you ask, confused about what she expected.

“i mean, no, i’m going to a party anyways.” she shrugs, her demeanor hardening. “might bring someone back. if you don’t want the couch, then you might want to room with lar.”

“you’re a fucking joke,” you blurt at her, sitting up to meet her eye-level. “always so irritating.”

“what happened to feeling possessive?” she arches a brow playfully.

“no, shut up dani. tell me something– why were you so much nicer to me before we started hooking up?” you question, narrowing your eyes at her. “you weren’t this big of a dick until the first time. i didn’t even think you were capable of being this big of a piece of shit.”

“i didn’t know you noticed how i treated you before,” she says simply, crossing her arms over her chest and giving you a curious look. “you cared about that?”

you take a second before ripping her a new one and read into her implication. it really does make sense in her head that if you only wanted her for sex, there was no need to keep up the dynamic from before.

is this the root of all this confusion? is daniela just playing a role she thinks you assigned to her?

“tell me something about you,” you blurt out.

she un-crosses her arms and arches a brow in confusion. “like?”

“anything. what’s your favorite color?”

“blue.” she pauses for a second. “yours?”

“blue,” you repeat, and she smiles at the coincidence.

“do you miss cheer?” she asks quickly, as if to not let the silence take over.

“you remember that i did that?”

“yeah,” she says simply, before fishing in the pocket of her hoodie for a protein bar she had clearly just been eating. “do you want a bite? did you eat while i was gone?”

you feel rattled by her sudden change in demeanor. where did the fuckboy from 5 minutes ago disappear to?

“where is all this coming from?” you ask.

“if you wanted to be friends, you just had to say so.” she seems so casual about it, the flip, but you won’t question it further. this feels like the dani you met in the car, that first time alone. the sincere, unabashed one you got so inexplicably hooked on, and you want to make the most of it while she’s still showing you that girl still exists.

you take the protein bar as a peace offering and take a bite. “i do miss cheer, if that matters to you.”

“try out for our team,” she says quickly, like the solution is obvious.

“it’s not that easy. it’d be like you trying to play for a new team right now in the middle of your season.”

“so then cheer just for me,” she grins.

“i’d rather die than be an ice girl.” you roll your eyes. “i can’t even skate.”

“seriously? with your dad?”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes. “dani, please don’t talk about my dad while i’m debating getting naked for you again.”

“yeah?” the way she grins at your confession makes your heart thud.

“but you said you had a party to get to, so…” you trail off, eyeing her.

you almost let out a scream as daniela leaps and tackles you back into a laying position, biting playfully at your jaw.

“you’re going to get me in so much trouble,” she sighs, pressing feverish kisses against your neck.

“good thing he won’t find out.” you lift her chin to face you and press a finger to her lips, admiring her pretty, pretty face. “don’t tell me you’ve never kept something a secret before?”

“i’m gonna have to,” she breathes, her arms snaking under your back, “‘cause i’m having a hard time keeping my hands to myself.”

“do something about it,” you grin, and dani doesn’t make you wait.

there’s no point in lying to yourself. you can fool the world, maybe, between the stolen glances and rushed kisses in the empty locker room or in the secrecy of your bedroom, but you can feel the way dani’s eyes never quite leave your head. you find yourself thinking about her at every turn, remembering new things as she keeps opening up to you about her past, her hopes for the future, her experiences as captain. you want to think that of course, if she’s the best hook up you’ve ever had, it’d be obvious why she’s on your mind, but you know it’d be a lie to pretend your feelings weren’t getting involved, despite your better judgement.

each time you watch her wink at you from the ice, or order your coffee perfectly as if she’s memorized it, or see her leave a stupid cute note on your clipboard, you can’t help but wonder if she’s this damn charming with all her other hookups too.

you try not to overthink it and instead focus on the newfound freedoms your dad is slowly loosening up to allow you, with each passing week that you stay out of trouble (at least, trouble that he’s aware of.)

can i go to a party if i stay w lara and megan the entire time?

You’ve got some nerve asking If I call you need to pick up at any point

i’ll leave with her and text you each step of the way

you text to the group chat that you’re good to go and they all send a variety of cheering gifs or stupid memes about how fucked up they’re going to get you.

(at least, all of them except for dani, who never acknowledges your texts in the group chat.)

you appreciate that they’ve finally stopped treating you just as coach’s daughter, finally brave enough to stop babying you. you’re especially grateful when you get to the party and yunjin is feeding you shots much to chaewon’s disapproval, the defenseman screaming laughing as lara and kazuha try to race to take down their drinks before megan even manages to take a single, nervous sip from her cup. you’re grateful to have made so many stupid fun friends who are so so nice to you, but you can’t help but feel like the shenanigans would feel complete with the presence of one particular frat-boy-like captain who thrives in these environments.

you try to not be obvious about looking around to seek her out, but you can feel the eyes on you from the other side of the room. like two magnets finding the opposite ends of each other, always pulling to touch.

unfortunately, when you do spot her, looking painfully attractive in an oversized university polo and a backwards hat, she’s standing way too close to a random girl for your liking. you guys had never discussed the parameters of what was and wasn’t allowed, and a part of you had always known she wasn’t likely the type you could lock down if you were just friends with benefits.

fine. you don’t owe her anything. you turn back around and reach for chaewon’s hand, inviting your friend to dance with you as lara’s girlfriend hands you another drink. you’re over trying to push dani. if she wants anything from you. she knows exactly where to find you.

you’re almost able to push her out of your head until chaewon trades to be dance partners with kazuha, landing you with yunjin holding you by the waist. you think nothing of it– her super secure girlfriend is literally two feet away from you, doing the same with kazuha, and yunjin has always been nothing but platonic with you, doting on how much she loves chaewon.

“i’m sure these moves have your girl so, so happy,” you laugh, motioning to how she can manage to both lead you so smoothly and also trip up over her own feet at the same time.

yunjin grins back at you in response. “i always step on her feet, and she’ll still kiss me. i think she pretends it doesn’t even happen.”

“now that’s true love,” you coo, motioning over to the bobbed girl in question, who blows you both a kiss as kazuha dips her over and over.

“i like to think she’s into me,” yunjin smiles.

“y/n isn’t drunk enough to be able to keep up with your whack ass moves, huh.”

the hair on the back of your neck tingles. you’ve gotten too good at picking up daniela’s husky voice absolutely anywhere.

“funny. if anyone knows about getting shit-face wasted, it’s you, cap.” yunjin raises her cup to the blonde, words teetering dangerously on the edge of disdain. she motions to you and shoos you two off irritatedly. “take it away.”

before you can protest, dani is pulling you into the hallway, secluded from the bustle of the party centered in the living room.

her hands are all over you, her teeth in your neck painfully fast with no warning, as if to assert herself. you shove her away.

“what the fuck, dani?” you hiss, wincing at the sting of your skin.

“missed you,” she says simply, pressing you back up against the wall, and you’re in shock about hearing her blatant confession. you think back and realize it might be the first time she’s ever admitted something like that.

“you’re sending me mixed signals,” you call her out, putting a hand on her chest to keep some space between you two. “you don’t want me to get mad at you but you go crazy when you see me complimenting someone else.”

“fine then,” she growls, though you knew she’d avoid taking accountability for the whiplash she’s putting you through. “so should we just fucking quit while we’re ahead?”

you see the way her eyes change, something pressing beneath that calloused exterior, you know dani, deep down, and you know what it means when she acts out. so you decide to take a chance.

“i want to know more about you,” you breathe gently, looking around quickly to make sure there’s no prying eyes, before cupping a hand to her cheek. “and i want to keep seeing you. please stop trying to fuck with my head.”

her eyes soften, and your heart melts. your bet pays off– her guard is dropping.

“you won’t like what you find,” she warns, and the way her voice hardens makes you wonder what she’s possibly been through to think so low of herself.

“let me decide that on my own,” you tell her, tilting your head. “why do you keep pushing me away?”

“i thought i was fine with it, but i kept thinking about it. and i don’t want to hook up with someone who’s just using me to get back at someone else.”

“me liking you had nothing to do with my dad. it’d be easier to like you if my dad wasn’t terrified of you,” you shake your head, realizing how fucked up the reality of the situation is.

you don’t realize what’s slipped out of your mouth until daniela’s eyes are lighting up, even in the dim lighting. her voice is so, so eager, you want to risk it all and kiss her right there and then.

“y/n, you like me?” she questions.

“duh,” you wrinkle your nose, embarrassed but unable to find a way to take it back. “are you blind? is it seriously news to you?”

“i thought yunjin was fucking with me.”

“god, yunjin could see it,” you want to shrivel up and die– you had never mentioned dani to her, but yunjin is dating chaewon, the super genius, and is clearly no idiot herself. “but why would she lie to you?”

dani bites back a guilty smile. “i’ve been kind of shitty to her before.”

you remember the first time watching their rivalry at practice, the smoothness with which they play but the very obvious tension off the ice. you even remember how dani didn’t bother you until it was yunjin who started dancing with you.

“why are you so fucking weird about yunjin?”

you expect an excuse, but dani simply grits her teeth and lets out a breath. “yunjin is like, what i could be if i wasn’t so fucked up. she’s confident and stupid but people really like her.”

“people really like you,” you press back.

“people put up with me,” she corrects, smiling painfully. “you and i both know i’m bad news.”

“that’s not true.”

“you know it is,” she insists “coach only tolerates me because i’m lara’s best friend, and because i got captain.”

“you’re a star player, that’s why you’re captain.”

“megan is a star player,” she corrects you again. this is new territory for you– daniela’s always been so infuriatingly cocky, you almost don’t know what to make about the overload of sincerity she’s sharing with you. you regret every time you’ve talked shit about her ego, realizing it was probably the only thing protecting her from this terrible notion she has of herself.

“you almost won player of the year last season,” you remind her, the party now lost behind you both. “that’s nothing small.”

“your dad got so mad when i got nominated that year and not lara,” she laughs, but you can hear something painful in her voice. the pain of being constantly compared.

“you earned it for a reason,” you answer quickly, and you see something click in her.

“you’re the only person who’s never sized me up to lara,” she tells you. “or yunjin.”

“no comparison,” you answer quickly. “you’re so one-of-a-kind, dani. it’s mesmerizing.”

“i love lara, but even she puts me in this box, like i can’t be trusted. i know she means well but it’s hard sometimes. she’s so perfect, yunjin’s so likeable, and i’m too much,” dani breathes.

“you’re not too much,” you disagree. “you’re so human. you’re like the most authentic person i know.”

“i feel like my feelings are too big for my body sometimes,” she admits, and you can’t believe she’s sharing all this at a frat party at like 1 in the morning. “like they control me instead of the other way around.”

“that makes you so special. you’re not hiding away like everyone else. you’re not scared to treat people like human beings.”

“nobody cares about that,” she snorts.

“i care about that. my dad always treats me like i’m some breakable doll.” nobody has ever made you feel safe or seen enough to confess the frustrations of being the youngest in your family comes with. “my brothers were always the ones allowed to get away with everything but i had to be under his thumb.”

“i wish we would have met any other way,” she says simply, and you feel the weight of her words resonating from inside of you. she leans in before adding a quiet whisper, “y/n, you like me?”

“i should have never said something,” you roll your eyes, but she reaches for your hand.

“you guys okay?”

your eyes both snap up at the voice. you breathe out a sigh of relief as you realize it’s those big brown puppy eyes looking back at you.

megan.

“i was going to steal lara’s keys so we could go–”

“kiss, a lot,” her girlfriend chimes in, cheeks flushed from clearly one too many drinks.

“no, she’s too tipsy for that, ignore her.” megan wrinkles her nose, holding the girl tightly by the waist to help hold her up. “i was going to let her sleep it off in the car but i’ll just get us an uber to take her home. take the keys, and go talk. that way, nobody interrupts.”

“i’m gonna teach her how to rock your shit once you’re all sobered up,” dani promises, pointing a finger at the both of them.

“dani, i am so serious, please shut the fuck up,” megan begs, and you can see her ears flushing red from beneath her beanie.

her girlfriend grins mischievously. “nooo, you should hear what she can do when–”

megan interrupts by simply turning them around and walking away with the girl in tow, throwing the keys at your feet as her eyes go wide. you hear her tone soften as she walks off in search of somewhere to let her clearly drunk girlfriend sober up. “okay, baby, not now, but especially not ever with dani…”

you’re a little nervous that you’re being driven home without lara present, but you figure being home is better than staying out in your dad’s book. dani admits she hadn’t actually been drinking that night, which is a surprise to you, but you’re absolutely counting it as a win that she confessed all these thoughts sober.

you don’t remember who reaches out first, but her hand is holding yours as she drives down the familiar streets to your house, and you feel like you can picture it forever.

“how did you get captain after lara turned it down?” you ask, after she had opened up about so many other issues in her life, answering each of your questions more honestly than the last.

“it was our old coach, she was training your dad before she transitioned to a new team.” you remember this. your dad had been assistant coach for years, and when the old head coach announced her retirement, your mom threw the biggest celebration to cheer him on for his promotion. “coach misty looked me in the eyes and told me that even if the athletics department wanted lara, i was always her first pick.”

“really?”

“she said i needed the responsibility so i wouldn’t do more stupid things.”

“that worked out,” you deadpan.

“i was worse, when i first joined the program. i’d skip practice, i had a shit attitude, i’d show up to games hungover. i threw up once offsides because i had been partying the night before too hard. at least now i stop before i get sick.”

“really?” you can’t imagine it. as destructive as dani is off the ice, her commitment to her sport is sacred. sure dani can be a goof during practice, but never during the drills themselves, or the games. you’d never once seen her show up with less than 110% when it comes down to it, laser-focused on whatever she’s doing.

“she saw the worst in me, and still believed i could be good,” dani shrugs. “good enough to announce me captain. i cleaned up my act a little once that happened. wanted to make her proud.”

“someone believed in you, once upon a time.” you tell her softly. “maybe you should remember that when you feel reckless.”

“fine.” she lets out a sigh and taps the steering wheel as if she’s thinking. you’re about to make a dumb comment about how good she looks in that hat, but she catches you off guard with her next statement:

“i think we should stop hooking up with other people.”

“what?” you question, as if you heard her wrong.

“just make it easy.” she shrugs again, avoiding your gaze. “plus finals are coming up, we’ll be able to stay focused and blow off steam with less time in between.”

you’re too caught off guard to give a straight answer. instead, you want answers to your pressing questions. “when we first met, why did you get weird when i told you everyone was warning me about you?”

she hums for a moment, her thumb running across your knuckles. “i let myself start to like you, then i remembered who i am and what i do.”

“you’re not a bad person, dani,” you shake your head.

“you can’t even claim me,” she pushes back, pulling up in front of your house.

“you’re not exactly showing me off either,” you point out.

“your dad would kill me,” she laughs, pointing to your house with all the lights off, “and i have one more year before i go pro.”

“fine.” you turn in the seat to face her, bringing your interlaced hands up to examine her knuckles. “we keep it secret for one more year, and once we graduate, if we’re still together, we say something.”

“so, we’re not gonna sneak around forever?” she asks, eyes lighting up.

“i’m private, but i want to make it very clear that i’m not ashamed of you.”

“you’ll hate me in a year,” she pushes you teasingly.

“i hated you for a little bit, but you grew on me.” you reach over to plant a soft kiss on her lips, feeling much too bold considering your dad is asleep just inside the house. “maybe you’ll hate me in a year.”

“guess you’ll just have to stick around a year and find out,” daniela smirks, before reaching across your seat to let you out of the car door once more.

you make it upstairs to your room, and she sends you a screenshot of her lockscreen.

look at what time i made it home.

the time is irrelevant. all you see is that her background has been changed to a team photo, where you and her are sharing a glance. your heart thuds as you hunt down the same photo and change yours too.

“this fucking stupid ass crush,” you mumble to yourself, before letting yourself fall asleep. you don’t have to have a name for it. whatever it is with dani, at least as of tonight, is perfect.

there’s two semifinal home games left until the championships, and you’ve never felt more anxious to be through a game in your life. between finals coming up, your dad extra on edge, and now trying to make time to see dani outside of just when the sun is gone, you feel like something is dangerously close to bursting, and yet you’re not sure which part of your life is bound to burst first.

the semi-final game, however, gives a hint that hockey is probably going to be a huge stressor for the next two weeks.

the game is absolute insanity. the girls are playing like maniacs, both intense and borderline sloppy as they barely manage to keep a lead up above the attacking team. your dad is beyond himself, screaming so hard he ends up snapping a clipboard over his knee out of frustration when the team lands another foul and gets away with it.

dani, however, is not one to let things slide, and makes sure the team knows she won’t tolerate a dirty play against megan under any circumstance.

daniela takes the other team’s center down, gripping her by the back of her jersey, and slams her into the ice. she drops on top of her, swinging two fast blows in succession against her helmet before the ref can swing over. yunjin jumps in quickly, dogpiling onto the other girl as her teammates come to her rescue. kazuha, freakishly strong, reaches down to yank a girl off dani’s back.

the referee finally makes his way over and calls a 2 minute penalty for daniela. it’s the first time you’ve ever seen her in the box. she storms over and slams the half-door shut, watching anxiously as her team tries to play without her for the next 120 seconds.

“never seen you fight before,” you tell her through the glass, trying to distract her as her eyes stay laser focused on the ice.

“this team fractured my eye socket last year.” she tells you back sharply, and she seems genuinely pissed. “and now trying a high-stick on meg? they had it coming.”

they barely scrape by with the win, and you have to sit through your dad’s lecture about how playing sloppy is almost worse than losing.

you, the golden trio, and their girlfriends are all leaving the stadium towards the parking lot, ready to go to their place and go straight to sleep after such a heavy game. but there’s an unfamiliar voice calling out from the dimly lit lot.

“you had to try and play dirty to win?” the girls call out, and you recognize them as some of the players from the other team. you look around and realize it’s just the few of you in the parking lot, last to leave. you get a sinking feeling in your stomach.

dani, fearless as always, is the first to step in front of your team and snap back against the attempts at intimidating her team.

“i was gonna apologize for beating your ass bare in front of thousands of people, but it sounds like you deserved it,” she bites back.

“you call a dirty dogpile beating my ass?” the girl scoffs. “try again alone and you won’t come out as easily.”

“not worth it,” lara rolls her eyes, unlocking the car door to load her stuff into.

“easy to say when you can only win on home turf,” the girl responds.

“home court advantage? are you serious? look at our fucking record. you talk a lot of shit for a team that just got their asses whipped,” dani bites back, chest puffing as lara reaches out to hold her back. you feel frozen at the exchange.

megan is stepping backwards with nervous eyes, tutor girl pulling her by the wrist to try and distract her.

“oh come on, come step up like a fucking grown up.” the other team’s player points at the ginger in question and how tutor girl is trying to redirect her. “or does your little loser girl do all the hard shit for you?”

you see something twitch in megan’s jaw, her eyes blowing dark.

holy shit.

within seconds, megan is launching forwards, both hands pressing into the other girl’s shoulders and sending her slamming into the ground with one harsh push. she stands over her as you all bolt to grab her.

“next one ends as you with no teeth,” megan says, voice cold and even. you have never once heard megan talk like that, much less think she was capable of it.

ugh. to be her girlfriend, having someone claim you that hard.

“she gets it, baby,” tutor girl pulls her back.

you can tell this was the catalyst to something terrible.

“you wanna start something then not finish it?” the other girl snaps angrily, lifting herself up off the ground with the help of the two other girls.

“your girlfriend says that’s a pattern of your’s,” dani snips.

oh, this idiot and her big mouth.

“try it again, blondie,” she challenges, gesturing for her to approach.

“walk away, daniela,” lara pushes her, but dani’s too fucking stubborn to back down.

in seconds, dani’s shoving into the other girl, despite the height difference, pressing her face into the other girls’ fearlessly. you’re in awe of how she seems completely unphased.

“they might not fight, but i do,” she bites, “and i’m not known to fucking lose.”

the other girl shoves back and before you know it, they’re at blows, even scarier now without all the padding from the game. you’re seconds from running in to try and pull them off of each other when you see a flash of another girl coming up behind her. you realize her intentions look less than a friendly way to blow off steam.

megan’s scream is the loudest. “dani!”

the girl lifts her foot to land a kick straight into the side of dani’s knee, and you see the sickening bend of a joint that shouldn’t go in that direction.

daniela screams and drops to the ground face-first, and the other team’s girls freeze as they realize what just happened of their teammate taking it too far. they sprint in the opposite direction, disappearing into the night, and you feel your heart start to race as dani stays on the ground. you’re waiting for her to make some stupid joke, to pop up and do a backflip or something, but once you see her swollen cheek and bloodied lip dripping with silent tears as she grips her knee, you realize something is horribly wrong.

“dani?” you whisper.

“i think we need a doctor,” lara utters, starting the car.

“dani, can you get up?” megan asks worriedly, and daniela keeps ignoring everyone to clutch her leg.

“this is not good,” you whimper, feeling your body go numb.

you immediately direct megan to help dani to her feet, and lara is racing to pull her car around. megan and her girlfriend help dani limp into the car, and the blonde is ignoring all of you with wide eyes.

“i think she’s in shock,” lara says worriedly, and you bring a hand to dani’s face. the gash above her eye from where she hit the ground is bleeding profusely, and she looks pale.

“hey, you’re okay,” you reassure her, trying to bring her back to earth.

“y/n, i felt two pops. both my ligaments.” she says it solemnly, eyes still wide, as if she’s processing it over and over. “that’s my knee. that’s my career.”

“you also hit your head which i’m sure didn’t help,” you push back, knowing dani always manages to get out of things with the craziest of luck. you press a kiss to her knuckles, forgetting the world around you. “you’ll be okay.”

“that’s it for me,” she says quickly, before her face pales again and her head slumps forward, the shock clearly wearing off.

the ER nurse takes one look at daniela, bloodied, bruised, and her limp body only held up by megan’s sheer strength at this point, and hurriedly gets her in a wheelchair and out of the lobby.

your group waits anxiously in the lobby, intentionally leaving out mentioning this your dad yet. you can already hear what he’s going to say to her, and you figure the last thing she needs is to hear his lecture right about now. hours pass by, megan and her girlfriend curled up in one chair, lara falling asleep on your shoulder, as you fidget with your phone waiting to hear literally anything back.

they allow one person back to go see her, and lara wakes up and volunteers immediately. part of you wishes you could go back with them, but you figure if only megan knows, you shouldn’t be spilling to just anyone especially when dani can’t stand up for herself.

lara comes back a few minutes later, shaking her head. the disappointment is written clearly on her features.

you realize now, why it had to be dani as captain. yes, lara is lovely and easy to like and responsible, but as soon as the pressure hits, you can read the distress all over her features. she’s shutting down, clearly bearing bad news.

dani would be frustrated, maybe, but her energy would stay up and she’d find some way to make even the biggest problems seem like no sweat. that’s what coach misty had seen in dani, all that time ago, to appoint her captain. an undying tenacity and a willpower of steel– the kind that inspires people.

“the forehead needed three stitches, which they did.” she lets out a sigh. “um, but they’re putting her in for a cat scan right now to see what’s going on with the knee and how bad it is.”

“they’re going to go straight into surgery to see what they can repair in her knee. the acl and the mcl both ripped from the impact. they said we should look into pressing charges.”

your heart drops.

“the good news is my girlfriend has seen plenty of acl rips that can heal fast enough to finish a season. we might not have her for championships but she’ll be with us next year.”

you look over at megan, who is teary eyed at the thought of all of this. “can we see her?”

lara nods. “she has a room, they’ll let us know when we can go in.”

lara decides to be the responsible one and steps outside to call her girlfriend first, and then face your dad. once a nurse comes down to say she’s accepting visitors (albeit, sleepily due to the pain meds,) megan is leaving you guys in the dust to race upstairs towards the room.

dani’s peaceful snores from her bed bring you some source of comfort. megan curls up in the chair next to the bed and pulls out her phone, mumbling something about calling out from class the next day.

lara’s girlfriend arrives and the other girlfriends wait outside the door, peeking in through the crack in case dani stirs.

“poor lar is still on the phone with coach y/ln. you can imagine how it’s going,” she wrinkles her nose. tutor girl grimaces.

“hate to be her right about now.”

“check it out. your puppy dog doesn’t want to leave her side,” you laugh.

“you haven’t either,” tutor girl points out playfully.

“someone sane has gotta keep an eye on our captain,” you shrug.

“dani is like a big sister to her,” tutor girl says worriedly, watching from the window as megan lays her head on dani’s bed. “she loves her.”

lara’s girlfriend turns to you, and with zero judgement in her voice, asks simply: “what’s she to you?”

“loaded question,” is all you say, and they both laugh in response.

megan bursts out the door with an eager smile. “she’s awake!”

you let the other girls go in first and say their pieces. at this point, it’s nearly 2am after all the waiting, and the adrenaline doesn’t balance out how tired they all must be from the game and being up this late. you let them trickle out of the room as they finish up, last out being megan, before you nod to her and promise you’ll keep an eye on her best friend through the night.

they leave, and you step into the room, feeling a small breath escape you at the sight of her.

she’s sitting up in the bed, beaming that stupidly gorgeous smile at you, but the stitches on her forehead and the scrapes and bruises on her face make your heart ache. she looks so small in the hospital gown, your otherwise larger than life daniela, but all you can think about is how grateful you are that she’s in one piece.

“will i sound too familiar if i start screaming about your dumb fucking choices tonight?” you start, but your voice can’t hide the fact that you’re not actually angry at her, as stern as you’re trying to be.

“sorry i’m such a shit-head,” she apologizes simply, the smile never dropping.

“how’d you know my dad’s nickname for you?” you tease.

“‘cause he calls me it like it’s my government name,” she winkles her nose back at you, looking around before reaching out a hand to you.

“i don’t think you’re all that bad, daniela avanzini.” you smile gently and take her hand in yours as you stand next to the bed.

“you haven’t known me long enough,” she snorts. “you’ll find something.”

“shockingly, i’ve liked what i’ve seen.” you press playfully into her chin. “i hope i get to know you long enough to prove you wrong, but you’re gonna have to stop doing stupid shit like this.”

“careful,” she clicks her tongue. “people might think you’re soft for me.”

“you got under my skin at some point.” you shrug, the smile on your lips only growing. “unfortunately, i think i like you there.”

she pauses for a moment, and you wonder if she’s going to say something stupid, but instead, she simply looks up at you with those sharp gorgeous dark eyes.

“will you stay, please?”

“you know,” you tell her, relenting instantly and cuddling into the bed with her, “i had this sick fantasy of finally hearing you beg, but now that you’re begging, i feel like a horrible person because it doesn’t actually turn me on.”

“you’re so evil,” she laughs. “maybe we are meant to be.”

“slow down, playboy,” you tease, before letting out a quiet nervous breath. “what’d the doctor say?”

“good thing i’m still insanely hot,” she says, flexing her biceps beside you, “cause it sounds like i’m never playing hockey again.”

your heart drops. “what? but lara said–”

“recovery for all the ripped joints is well over a year. that’s this and next season.” she holds up two fingers. “there’s no chance i’m going pro missing my rest of my junior and then my senior season, and that’s if my knee even heals right.”

“dani…” you feel your heart ache at the implication.

“that’s what, almost 15 years? just down the drain.” she shakes her head, dropping back against the pillow with wide eyes. “everyone is asking me what the fuck i’m going to do next and all i can do is stare back like an idiot.”

“you don’t have to know that yet,” you tell her gently, resting your head on her shoulder. “i think you should give yourself a chance to rest.”

she scoffs and runs a hand through her hair, sarcasm dripping in her voice. “still want to sneak around with me? broken knee, no more games, useless ass captain with her career down the drain? at least i can smoke so much more weed while i rot on the couch.”

you blink once, twice, as you realize the warmth in your chest has overflowed in a way that never had anything to do with daniela’s status. you like her for her, and you’re hurt she couldn’t see that from the start.

you cup her face gently in your palm and turn it to face you.

“dani,” you say quietly, trying to take in every inch of her features, her poor cut up face. “i don’t think i want to sneak any more.”

your heart pounds at the way her eyes light up.

“even like this?” she questions.

“especially like this.” you nod. “just give me some time to find the right chance to talk to my dad. maybe you can tell lara. we can figure it out from there.”

you’re mentally prepared for an excuse, from the pushback of wanting to still be single. you’re prepared for her to flip that switch and slap you with some stupid fuckboy ecxcuse, as she does whenever feelings start to get too heavily involved, but you know that’s a risk you run wih her anyways.

instead, she just stares back at you with those beautiful eyes, her smile threatening to split her face in two.

“okay,” she says simply, and it’s enough for you.

“you’re going to be okay,” you reassure her, carefully leaning into her chest to not disturb her bad leg. she wraps and arm around your shoulder and plays mindlessly with your hair. “you’re so one of a kind. things always work out for you.”

the night finally catches up to you, and you fall asleep in her arms. at this point, you don’t care who sees you. all that matters is dani needs you, and you want to be there for her, and there’s nothing your heart wants more than to make her feel cared for.

the championship game finally arrives two weeks later, and your heart breaks as the teams make it a special point to roll out a carpet on the ice to celebrate dani, who limps out in her leg brace and blows kisses all around her at the roaring fans.

the collegiate sports world was rocked by the news after your dad helped file the police report last week. the headlines hit immediately after:

“hockey champion’s career cut short due to violent assault from opposing team.”

you know it breaks her heart to have to watch the game from the bench, but dani’s calling out and making suggestions to your dad, screaming at the girls from the box to make sure they know she’s down but not out for the count. you can tell it does wonders for their morale, their leader still pushing as hard as she can from the constraints she has.

they’re wobblier on the ice than usual– like a creature on four legs that just lost it’s front foot. megan is compensating for the new left wing, who doesn’t match up with kazuha quite as gracefully as dani did, but they’re making it work. the game stays at a tense 0-0 even down to the bottom of the final period, and that’s equally lara’s job as goalie as well as yunjin’s work as defenseman to keep the puck away from their net.

it’s the offence that is feeling dani’s absence the most. it had always been kazhua to dani, zuha making a hole as dani runs the puck up, and then both of them clearing a clear pass to megan to make the final score. megan is overcompensating, somehow in multiple places at once, and by some miracle, makes a buzzer-beating shot that brings them up to their second championship victory.

1-0, and no easy feat.

the girls all swarm megan on the ice, but you quickly realize megan is crying her poor little eyes out as she races out of the swam and instead runs straight to the player box, crushing daniela in a hug as she tosses her helmet to the side.

dani furrows her brows and gives megan back the tightest hug she can manage with all the padding still on her. the other girls come to quickly trickle in and follow suit, and you can hear megan’s loud sobs heard over the hums and sniffles of the other girls. the reality sets in. their beloved captain is done for.

“we’re going to announce the next captain tomorrow after the championship recap press release,” your dad tells them, after a few pictures with the trophy and a debrief about the game. “get some rest, you all played your best tonight.”

he points to yunjin and daniela and motions for them to follow into his office. you figure you’ll give them some space and wait outside with lara and her girlfriend, but once you see yunjin step out and hurry away, you hear the volume increase. lara and the physical trainer both exchange concerned glances and walk away to offer them more privacy. you try to focus on other things, but you hear a thud of something hitting the desk, and walk into the office.

you catch the tail end of their argument. daniela’s jaw is hard and her face is red, almost as red as your dad’s, and you can tell the two have probably been screaming at each other a fair amount of time before you got there.

“captain goes to yunjin.” he presses firmly, slamming his fist down again into the table. “you thank the program for their time, you make the announcement that it’s huh, and you train her until the season starts. you can still see your scholarship out as long as you’re training with us since the injury wasn’t your fault.”

“i don’t give a fuck about my scholarship. yunjin is the wrong call for captain,” daniela bites back fearlessly.

“if you wouldn’t have gone looking for trouble, we wouldn’t have to be making this call.” he growls, shooing the both of you out of his door. “you don’t get to call shots any more, avanzini, you are done for. do what i say. announce huh at the press conference and stop causing issues.”

daniela storms out of the office, and you follow behind her, your dad slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

“if i wasn’t stuck in this fucking brace, i’d beat his ass too,” she rants, waving lara over. “let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“enough with fighting people,” you growl, following them to the car.

you spend the night, and daniela doesn’t want to say a single word more about it, instead simply laying in the bed and letting you play with her hair until she falls asleep. you want to leave it there, but something inside you is pressing to dig a little deeper, so you slip out of the bed as gently as you can without waking her, and ask lara if you can borrow the car to make a quick trip. your dad is clearly too stressed out about the conference tomorrow to be checking where you are, so you figure maybe you can dig a little deeper into this as you give chaewon a quick phone call.

you make it to chaewon’s apartment complex and just as you had the hunch, yunjin is pulling up at the exact same time, looking like a zombie as she tries punching in the access code to the front door. you park and race up behind her before she can leave you behind.

“hi yunjin,” you greet, making your presence known.

“y/n.” she forces a smile, spinning on her heel. caught. “good to see you.”

“i thought we were cool, but you don’t seem that thrilled to see me,” you wrinkle your nose. “did chae tell you i was asking about you?”

“unfortunately, yes,” she wrinkles her nose back at you. yunjin straddles the line between being confident and cocky, just barely able to rein it in that you’re never quite that annoyed with her.

“sorry for you, but i need answers,” you press.

“all for a girl who won’t claim you?” she arches a brow.

you bite back a grimace, not wanting to admit how deep that cuts. “this isn’t about dani.”

“when it comes to this team, everything is about dani.” she shakes her head.

“when it comes to dani, everything is about the team,” you insist, and you see yunjin’s eyebrow twitch slightly.

“i hate admitting when daniela is right, but i also disagree with the call to make me captain.”

“so don’t accept,” you state simply.

“i have to,” yunjin sighs. “it’s not that easy.”

“why don’t you think it should go to you?”

“i love hockey, but i don’t live and breathe it. coach y/ln just wants an incoming senior who can say the right polite things, keep the sponsors happy, and then graduate and be out of there. i’m the closest she could get to lara raj. dani, as much trouble as she caused, also got us the right kind of attention. it was supposed to be her keeping captain until she graduated. someone like that isn’t going to pop up again. lightning doesn’t strike twice.”

you marinade on her words. that might explain why dani is so irritated about the call– yunjin seems ready to be a puppet for the next year, and daniela would rather die than let captain go to someone who doesn’t see the sport as their whole life.

“i’ve never seen her like that before, so reasonable. she’s crazy about you,” yunjin adds as an afterthought. “she met her match in you.”

“crazy knows crazy,” you laugh.

“i think you believing in her changed her.” yunjin corrects you, offering a small smile as a peace offering. “she’s a pain in the ass, but she’s our favorite pain in the ass, so thank you for taking care of her.”

suddenly the door swings open, revealing a sleepy-eyed chaewon.

“oh hi, y/n,” she blinks, looking between the both of you. “i wasn’t expecting you to actually come over.”

“not crashing, just needed to find yunjin. thanks, chae. see you tomorrow.” you nod to them both and head off. you don’t have a plan, but you at least have a better idea of what’s going through daniela’s head, and maybe that can be enough for now. you drive back to her place and squeeze right back into bed with her, wondering what this new chapter could possibly have in store for you.

the press conference finally comes the next day, and you’ve never seen so many bodies packed in the conference room before. photographers, reporters, even what looks like scouts and coaches invited from other teams. yunjin is seated next to you in the front row by the coaches, and megan and lara are right outside the door watching on the screen outside the room with the rest of the team.

dani limps her way onto the stage, unreadable expression on her face. they offer her a roaring round of applause, their university’s mini-celebrity, before quieting down as she takes to the microphone to start the speech.

“hockey has given me the most beautiful past 15 years of my life. i’d like to thank the program, for giving me a home to call my own, and the coaches, for pushing me to be my best. i’d like to thank the girls, most of all, for trusting my decisions, following me into the dark, and picking me up every single time i’ve fallen in pursuit of perfection.”

“as we celebrate this win,” she continues, “i know my time as captain has come to a beautiful end. i will mourn the season i never got to share, but i know the next captain is going to set the most incredible example for the team moving froward. being captain changed me. it gave me something to be responsible for, and a reason to believe in myself, even on the hardest days, when nothing felt redeemable. this is not a decision the program has taken lightly, as the job of team captain is only for those strong enough to lead by example, and believe in themselves to do it with a clear focus on the team.”

she presses her lips into a fine line, clearly trying to fake a smile. your heart aches as you know she’s being forced to do this against her better hopes.

“i am proud to announce my successor,” she starts, her face cold.

theres a pause, and you see her eyes change. she looks up at you and that glint of mischief shines as your eyes meet. you whisper a scolding to yourself but the grin on her face tells you that her mind is made up. she leans into the microphone and takes measures into her own hands.

“the women’s hockey team is in no better hands next year than incoming junior megan skiendiel. thank you,” she nods and stands up, and the conference room bursts into a roar of flashing cameras, overlapping questions, and a few whistled cheers.

you know your dad is going to fucking kill her but she walks off the stage with no fear and heads backstage.

tutor girl texts you immediately.

holy shit

daniela’s too smart. the university is in too tight of a position to retract her statement. dani is adored by thousands, and the sob story of her early retirement locks in her legacy as a hero– if your dad retracts her statement, he’s as good as dead.

you all rush to find her backstage as your dad scrambles to the mic, announcing “no further questions.”

megan is the first to spot her, and you can already see the color drained from her face in shock as her lip quivers. “dani–”

“listen, megs.” daniela grabs the taller girl by the shoulders, pulling her in to look her deep in the eyes. “you are our top scorer. you are first to practice every time and always the last to leave. you live, breathe, and die by this sport. everything i know, i’ve taught you, and you’ve surpassed me. you are a better, younger version of myself and you are the heart of this team.”

you didn’t know where dani’s head was at with yunjin, but you can see it now. experience and composure vs talent and dedication. yunjin is perfect on paper, but megan is obsessed with the sport down to her very core. and when daniela needed a reminder she was more than just a stupid little problem child, she recognizes that megan needs the same push to see she’s not just some nervous idiot little kid.

“i can’t do what you do,” megan hiccups, and you can see how hard she’s biting down on her lip to stop herself from bursting into tears. “i can’t do any of this without you.”

“you won’t have to.” dani pulls her into a crushing hug, and you feel your heart warm. “i’ve got your back, and you’ve got all of ours. believe in yourself, or at least remember that at least one person believes in you, and the rest will come naturally.”

your dad’s voice booms over all of you, interrupting the otherwise tender moment.

“avanzini, my fucking office, now.”

he’s stanced menacingly in front of the group, finger pointed in the direction of the coach’s offices. you all fall silent, clearly terrified of what comes next from him.

well, all except for daniela, who steps right up to him and points a finger just an inch from his face.

“yeah, keep swearing at me ‘cause i got more to say to you, you bald-headed bitch,” she pushes back fearlessly.

“oh, don’t start, avanzini,” he groans, backing down and walking towards the office.

you want to die of laughter as you watch her limp after him. daniela and her incessant need to run her mouth.

you give megan a quick squeeze of reassurance and leave her in the arms of the girls. whatever is about to go down between daniela and your dad should probably involve a witness, so you chase them down and follow into his office. they don’t even notice you entering, right back into a screaming match they’re all too good at.

“do you know the shit you just got us into? i have a whole department losing their minds over their top spokesperson having to transition off and now you’re going off script picking your own fucking captain! do you know the position that puts us in?” he’s seething so hard, you see the spit flying from his lips as he can barely contain himself. “do you ever fucking think about anything besides yourself?”

“yes, actually.” daniela’s face is hard, she’s standing tall, taking the verbal beating but snapping back just as forcefully to make sure he knows it won’t be an easy fight. “i think about a lot of other people, actually.”

“forgive me for finding that hard to believe, between the partying, the disrespect, and the self-centered attitude.” he holds up a finger for each vice he lists. “you carry yourself like some cocky frat boy and i’ve enabled you for way too fucking long. sometimes i wonder what the fuck goes on up there in that brain of yours besides thinking about yourself.”

you see daniela’s fists clench, and she lets out a sharp breath.

“you wonder what i think about?” she snaps, before taking a step back and laughing bitterly. “this is a great time to tell you that i’m in love with your daughter.”

you freeze. oh christ.

“don’t joke like that, avanzini.” he waves her off, immediately attempting to call her bluff. “you’ve already put my blood pressure high enough. don’t pick the low fucking blows.”

“coach,” dani says simply, and her eyes flicker to you.

you look back at her, and realize your dad is staring between the two of you. his face falls instantly as he sees the look you share.

“y/n, if she’s roped you into some prank, it’s not fucking funny, and this is not the time. this is serious, kiddo, you can’t let her use you to make a joke at my expense–”

your eyes meet dani’s once more, and you realize you have a choice. be stuck under his thumb forever, or choose to be impulsive and brave.

and something about those eyes makes you feel like maybe, it wouldn’t kill you to be your own person.

“i know daniela is a pain in your ass, but she’s also passionate, and brave, and she loves hard.” you start, and your dad groans in exasperation as he buries his face in his hands.

“not you, y/n, i literally told them the only rule was not you,” he sighs, before pointing back at daniela. “i should have known i couldn’t fucking trust you.”

“you don’t see the good side of her because you’re too busy wishing she was lara, or yunjin.”

you see dani and your dad tense simultaneously.

“i’d be pretty annoying too if i couldn’t exist by myself,” you continue. “you’re always comparing her and she never gets a chance to just be celebrated for everything she does right.”

“no. not being trusted is a consequence of your own decisions,” he tells her.

“you don’t know everything about me,” daniela growls.

“no, avanzini, i do know you,” he snaps back quickly, an accusing finger in her face. “i know you’re arrogant and hot-headed. i know you act first and think later, and that’s if you even think at all.”

“and all of those things make her someone you can depend on to give 110%,” you jump in to her defense. “do you know how many times she’s shown up to cheer someone up after a hard game? how she teaches others how to show up first to every practice? how she’s there the moment anyone needs someone? every time the girls start to beat themselves up because you’ve been a dick, she’s the first one helping them feel better about themselves.”

“it’s not just about being composed,” you go on, “it’s about being connected, and daniela cares about everyone equally. doesn’t pick favorites, unlike you.”

“y/n, are you trying to kill me?” he runs a hand over his bald head, his skin redder than you’ve ever seen it before. he glares once more over at daniela. “and you, shit-head, you are to stay away from my daughter or i kick you from the team.”

“i’m not approved to play anyways,” dani snaps back immediately. “you can’t stop me from shit.”

“kicking her isn’t your call,” you push back.

“she’s going to ruin your future,” he warns, but it feels like the weak final attempt of someone losing to try and get the upper hand.

“you not listening to anyone else is going to ruin yours. watch how your team falls apart without dani to guide them,” you snap back, grabbing daniela’s hand to yank her out of the office with you. “she’s not some fucking monster.”

you pause for a second in the doorway, before adding a final thought.

“and for the record, dad, dani did everything possible to ignore me. i sought her out, over and over, because she was the only person who treated me like a human being and not like your little puppet.”

your hands are shaking as you two simply keep walking, making your way out of the building. you’ve never once pushed back against him like that.

“holy shit,” daniela says simply, slumping up against the giant oak tree by the athletics building.

it’s not enough for you, you’re all adrenaline, and if there was ever a time to claim and be claimed, it’s now.

“you could say it to my dad, right in his fucking face, and yet you can’t look me in the eyes and say it to me?” you tell her hurriedly, grabbing her hands and holding them in your own shaky ones. “you can look him in the eyes, tell him off, tell him you’re in love with me, and still not be able to look me in the eyes to say it here?”

“i didn’t think the chance would ever hit me again,” she admits. “i did it, but i was fucking scared.”

“big bad avanzini, scared?” you laugh, throwing your head back. “never thought i’d see the day.”

“i want to be a different person for you,” she tells you, her tone dropping into a more serious one, as she brushes a few strands of hair from your face. “a good one.”

“you are a good person,” you press, taking her face into your hand. “i wanted you then, before you knew you were good, and i want you now.”

“it’ll kill me if i hurt you,” she clenches her jaw.

“dani, we’ve already hurt each other and we weren’t even together.” you shake your head at all the time you two had wasted being stupid and playing games. “and you forgive me, and i still forgive you, and i still know you’re good at your core.”

“i want you bad, y/n,” she breathes shakily. “but things i’ve loved in my life never really end up working out.”

“because you sabotage them, thinking you’re not worth it.” you hold her perfect face in both of your hands, forcing her to look at you. “you are perfect for me.”

“it’s risky,” she warns you, but you can see her guard falling one last time. “being in love can be really fucking painful. it’s a huge risk.”

“luckily for me, i fell in love with the most reckless, relentless daredevil i’ve ever met,” you grin, and she matches your smile with her own. “i trust you, daniela avanzini. with my whole heart, actually.”

she pulls you into a searing kiss, and you realize it’s the first time you’ve ever kissed in the fresh air, not hidden in someone’s room or in a dark hallway. you relish it, her soft, warm lips against yours in the brisk winter time air, the way she pulls you in to press your bodies flush together. your heard thuds at the realization.

it’ll be the first of many.

megan taps the microphone nervously, pulling at her tie to loosen it.

“uh, hi.”

tutor girl is recording next to you, looking like a proud soccer mom. she told you just moments before how hard megan had worked on this speech. the summertime pre-season press conference is no joke, usually it’s how the program will set the tone for the upcoming season, and the team is eagerly waiting in the front row of the conference seating to cheer on the ginger on stage.

“i take the torch of leadership from a mentor who is extremely dear to me.” she starts slowly, and you notice that she has no notes in front of her, having memorized the speech itself. “i’m excited to work to bring out the best in this team, the way our former captain brought out the best in me, and in every one of us. i will aim high not to achieve, but to improve. all i will seek is that we improve upon ourselves, and the rest we’ll take as it comes for the love of this beautiful sport. thank you for believing in me, and i hope this season gives everyone something to be proud of. my name is megan skiendiel, and i am extremely honored to be named the women’s hockey team captain.”

she nods, bowing slightly, and stands up once the photos have all been taken.

dani watches on the other side of you, arms crossed. her lips are pressed into a grin.

“you did this,” you tell her, motioning to the packed conference and the roars of cheering fans from outside the conference room. “your stubborn self made this all happen.”

“someone once described me as relentless,” she smiles, poking you in the hip.

“no, i said you’re annoying,” you correct, as the two of you make your way back towards the coach’s area.

“i’ll be honest, i probably wasn’t listening either way.” she teases, and you roll your eyes. “you start yapping and i get lost in those eyes.”

“okay, alright loverboy,” you push her face away, but she presses back twice as strong to plant a kiss on your cheek. you squeeze her cheek in response. “ugh, you’re so fucking cute it makes me aggressive.”

“you’re always aggressive,” she laughs.

“don’t let anyone look at you during the faculty meeting,” you warn. “if someone smiles at you, you say–”

“‘i have a girlfriend, i love her with my whole heart, and she’ll kill you,’” dani nods, remembering the lines you two playfully ran the night before.

“you’re so good.” you hum happily.

“if anyone looks my way, i’ll call you and then punch them in the head,” she reassures you, laughing.

“no violence.” you warn her. “you’re not a frat boy any more.”

“i love you,” she says simply, but the firmness in her tone and the way she reaches for your hand speaks volumes.

you grab her by the chin and stare deep into those beautiful dark eyes. her tooth gem sparkles as she smiles widely back at you.

“be good, and have fun. i’ll wait for you at home.”

“naked, hopefully,” dani quips back quickly.

“we can’t keep traumatizing poor megan,” you laugh, shaking your head.

“you are the best thing that ever happened to me,” she tells you earnestly, eyes looking over you as if seeking something.

“if someone discovers how to quit you, i hope they let me know,” you wrap your arms around her neck and plant one last kiss on her forehead.

“hope that never fucking happens.” she says easily. “you’re stuck with my ass.”

“ugh.” you push her away with one last kiss to her cheek. “go be charming and stupid somewhere else before i drag you into a bathroom.”

she looks so fucking cute in the university polo. a popped collar and a red cup in her hands and she’d look much too comfortable throwing back to her frat boy days. she runs off and joins the familiar figure of your dad as the hockey program faculty head into a meeting room.

your dad shoves her, and she grins twice as big up at him as she jumps up to slap the back of his big, bald head and then sprints off. he grumbles something and you watch as the two disappear into the room with the rest of the staff. you couldn’t be more proud of the way dani has found a way to keep chasing her dreams.

daniela avanzini. incoming senior, and new assistant coach in training.

and, her title for you and you alone, daniela avanzini. the most passionate, caring, insanely brave girlfriend anyone could have ever imagined.

562 notes · View notes

reiiaokii · 1 month ago

Text

something, somehow, someday

"they're a whiskey drinking, barely thinking, got no destination. she's a plane ride home."

pairing: megan skiendiel x reader (university au)

synopsis: you're known for your bad reputation on campus. people often talk about your wild escapades and have dubbed you as 'bad news.' but the way you look at megan, the way you smile at her, tells her otherwise.

JUST FLUFF. yall are soooo welcome. CW: drinking, smoking, kissing, lots of swearing lol

a/n: just want to put out there that this is not a REAL portrayal of the people mentioned in this fic. all events are fictional and are for entertainment purposes only.

wc: 4605

now playing: something, somehow, someday - role model

Megan lays her head in your lap, eyes closed, listening carefully to the audiobook playing through your earphones. She spotted you lying on the grass in the quad after class and decided to say hello. Originally, you were reading the book on your own but once Megan joined you, you decided to switch to the audiobook, starting from the beginning.

You look down at the Chinese girl and smile softly.

No words could describe this feeling. But it was clear to you and her, and that’s what matters.

Megan first meets you in a coffee shop right next to campus.

After ordering, she looks down at her wallet and realizes she left her credit card in her car.

She looks up, her eyes wide. The person at the register tells her the total again, but Megan is not really sure how to ask if she could run and grab her card. She is aware of how long the line already is and considers giving up on her coffee run altogether until someone walks up beside her, their card in their hands. Megan looks over and sees you. Her breath catches in her throat because oh, wow. You don’t notice her mental gymnastics as you tack on your coffee order and give the person at the register your credit card.

Megan looks down at your hands and sees your chipped nail polish. She’s curious about the dried paint that stains them.

When she looks back up, she sees you smiling at her with an amused glint in your eyes. Together, you two walk over to the other side of the counter to wait for your orders. Megan looks at you with a shy smile. “That was… Really embarrassing… I am so sorry…” You shake your head, waving her off. You respond with a chuckle, “It’s no problem. You seemed stressed. We all have those days.” Megan nods, sighing loudly. “Yeah… Classes kicked my ass all day so I decided to get a sweet treat.” You laugh loudly at her words. You look at her, your curiosity about the ginger girl piqued. “Do you go to school at the university nearby?” She nods, smiling at you and your heart beats quickly.

“Yeah. You?” You nod as well, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yep. I’m a Studio Art major.” She lights up at your words, the dried paint on your hands making more sense. You both fall into an easy conversation. Megan finds herself laughing at all your poor jokes, listening to you ramble about an art professor she has no idea about, and follows every time you change the subject unexpectedly. She observes that your mind must go at a 100 Mph and finds it rather endearing. Eventually, your name is called and she can’t help but feel disappointed, knowing the conversation with you will have to end.

You grab your coffees and you offer to walk her to her car. She waves you off, smiling. “No, don’t worry about it. You probably have a million other things to do. You already did so much just now.” You look down at your invisible watch, pretending to check the time. You look up, shrugging your shoulders. “It looks like my schedule is pretty empty.” You say playfully and it makes Megan giggle. She nods, accepting the invitation to continue talking with you. Purposefully, the walk to her car is slow. It was only down the block but neither of you cared. In the few minutes it takes to get to her car, Megan finds out you’re a K-Pop fan, prefer painting over drawing, and a huge nerd. You learn that Megan loves to dance, she’s from Hawaii, and her guilty pleasure is Roblox.

Once you’re at her car, you stand nervously. You extend your hand, smiling. “It was really nice meeting you.” Megan laughs at the gesture, her eyes twinkling as she grabs your hand and shakes it. “I hope I see you around campus.” You nod, pulling your hand back. You wave her goodbye and turn around, feeling your heart beating rapidly. As you walk away, you bite your lip anxiously. Fuck it. Suddenly, you turn around, walking back to Megan quickly. She watches as you walk back to her and looks at you curiously, an amused smile forming on her lips.

You take a deep breath before pulling your phone out, extending it toward her. “Your number,” your voice cracks slightly. You quickly add, embarrassed, “Please?” Megan giggles at your attempt to get her number but it apparently succeeds when she takes your phone and types her number. When she gives it back, you glance at the screen and chuckle at the name she gave herself.

‘the broke girl from the coffee shop’

You roll your eyes as you pocket your phone. “You weren’t broke. You just forgot your card.” She shrugs, giggling. “Doesn’t mean I’m not broke.” She replies and you throw your head, laughing loudly.

You end up talking to her for another 30 minutes after that.

Later that night, Megan receives a text from you. After shamelessly waiting all day to hear from you, once she saw the notification from an unknown number, she eagerly opens it. She giggles at the message, biting her lip.

You: hey :3 its ur knight in shining armor (Y/n).

After exchanging numbers, Megan begins to kinda, sort of, develop a crush on you.

You were just so sweet and matched her unique personality perfectly. Since meeting you, there hasn’t been a day where you weren’t talking. Megan would send text after text, telling you about her day and you’d do the same. Out of all the things Megan has learned about you, her favorite is your spontaneity. Your hangouts were never planned, always last minute and would often last longer than expected. She would always meet you at your car and allow you to pick the destination– usually being a coffee shop you found or the beach. She enjoys being in your company and her heart flutters thinking you may feel the same way.

When Megan tells her friends about her developing friendship with you, they immediately shut it down.

Sophia crosses her arms, her expression hardening when Megan reveals your name. She raises an eyebrow. “Y/n L/n? The Y/n?” Megan looks at her with a confused expression. She didn’t realize you were a well-known presence on their campus. “Yeah? What about them?” Megan asks and Manon clicks her tongue, shaking her head and says, “I’ve heard some pretty crazy shit about them…” Daniela quickly adds to Manon’s thought, “I’ve heard they’ve been arrested twice!” Megan’s eyes widen. She looks over at Lara who confirms their statements, nodding. The Indian girl sighs and places a hand on Megan’s shoulder. Her voice is soft as she speaks to Megan, “Also, someone told me how they hook up with literally everyone on campus.” Megan looks away from Lara, thoughts of you swirling in her head.

Megan couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Their words made it seem like you were public enemy #1 on campus. But she was just playing Roblox with you until 2 AM the other night—certainly their words weren’t true. Sophia reached toward Megan, grabbing her hands and squeezing them gently. Sophia’s voice was soft yet stern at the same time. “Be careful, okay?” Megan silently nodded, not really knowing what to do with the information presented to her.

You’re sitting together on the ground at a spot you and Megan found on one of your many late-night drives. Every other night, you end up here with her just to talk about anything and everything. She watches as you take out your cigarettes and lighter. She nudges you playfully, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna get you to stop smoking one day.” You chuckle in response, putting one of them in between your lips. You attempt to light it but continue failing. After the third time, Megan snatches the lighter from your hand and tries to assist you. The action causes you to laugh, “You just said you’re gonna get me to stop.” Megan rolls her eyes at your playful tone, her hand on your shoulder as she shifts closer. “Do you want this stupid thing lit or not?” You raise your hands in defense, amusement in your eyes.

Megan manages to light your cigarette, watching as you inhale the smoke into your lungs. You exhale slowly, glancing at her with a grateful look. She smiles, admiring you. She shifts back, pulling her legs up to her chest and rests her chin on her knee. Megan bites her lip, becoming lost in thought. “My friends told me things about you.” You look at her and frown slightly. Although you saw this coming, it still made you nervous. You lean back, propping yourself up with your elbows. You look up at her, trying to remain unphased by her question. “What’d they say?” You ask, preparing yourself to hear the latest gossip. You bring your cigarette to your lips and inhale.

She looks away from you and shrugs. She says, “They told me how you’re pretty well known on campus for… Not so good things.” You nod, keeping your eyes on her. Megan looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Is it true you got arrested twice?” Your eyes widen at her question, sitting up suddenly. You shake your head frantically, “No, oh my god! That’s not true!” You exclaim, rubbing the back of your neck. Suddenly, you look away and chuckle. Nervously, you add, “I got arrested once.” Megan picks her head up from her knees and looks at you with her mouth agape. “Once?!” You sigh and avoid her eyes. “I got into a fight at a party freshman year. The guy was messing with one of my friends so I… Punched him…” You whisper the last part, your cheeks becoming red.

Megan stares at you in shock, not knowing what to say. Her silence makes you nervous and you’re scared you’ve ruined everything but she just giggles, covering her mouth. “Well that’s stupid, did you win at least?” You laugh at her question, shaking your head. You look at her, slightly embarrassed. “No… He beat the shit out of me. I only got that one punch in.” She pushes you playfully, laughing even louder. You roll your eyes, taking another hit from your cigarette. “You’re not being very nice right now, you know?” You say as you exhale the smoke from your lungs. Megan reaches over and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together. She looks at you with teasing eyes. “I’m not the one who started a fight with a guy.” You scoff playfully, eyeing her with an amused glint in your eyes.

You squeeze her hand. “Well. He deserved it.” Megan only smiles in response. She lays down on the grass, pulling you down with her. You lay together, shoulders touching with your connected hands at your sides. You look up at the sky, grateful that Megan isn’t judging you for your poor decision making. After a few seconds of silence, Megan breaks it. “Is it… Also true, you hooked up with a lot of people on campus?” You turn your head to look at her. At the same time, she does the same and you almost forget your words. She looks at you as if you were the only thing worth looking at and it makes your head spin. “I’ve only been with three girls on campus. I don’t know where that rumor came from but I’m used to it…” Megan looks at you softly. “Does it bother you?” She whispers to you. You shake your head, smiling. “Nah. I don’t really give a fuck anymore. My life is a lot quieter now and I like that.” She squeezes your hand as if to tell you that she gets it. And you know she’s serious. You stare at her, taking in the way she looks underneath the sunshine. She’s ethereal.

Megan notices you're staring and just giggles, her whiskers on display. “What?” She whispers. You shrug, still smiling. “I like being around you.” Her eyes light up at your words. She smiles shyly and glances down at your connected hands. “I like being around you too.”

Megan: dammit i left my bookbag with my dance clothes in ur car

You: want me to bring them to you?

Megan: omg no u have class

Megan: im sure the other girls have something i can borrow LOL

But you’ve already made the trip, swinging Megan’s bag over your shoulder. You walk to the dance building with a pep in your step. You had no urgency to be on time for your art class, you were already ahead on your projects anyway. Once you’re in the building, you text her asking which room she was in. As soon as it sends, you hear one of the doors open and look up to see Megan on the other end of the hallway. She smiles, running up to you. She jumps into your arms, her head nuzzled in the crook of your neck. You can feel her playing with the hairs on the back of your neck as she whispers, “I told you, you didn’t have to do that.” Her breath against your skin causes your head to spin. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her closer. You close your eyes as you relish in her presence.

You respond, “I don’t mind.” And you don’t. God, you would do anything for Megan Skiendiel.

When she pulls away, she looks at you, her soft brown eyes twinkling. You hand her her bag, mesmerized by how beautiful she is. Everything about Megan has consumed you, and you don’t want it any other way. You want to tell her. You really want to confess your feelings. But you want it to be perfect. She leans up, kissing you on the cheek. She pulls away with a shy smile and you only blink in surprise, your cheeks turning pink. Megan swings her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you after practice?” She asks and you nod eagerly. She waves you goodbye and skips back to the practice room. You stand there, raising your hand to where she kissed you.

You pump your fist in the air, whispering, “fuck yeah,” to yourself.

Megan stands with her friends at a party they decided to attend. She sips on her drink as she listens to Daniela complain about something that happened at dance practice earlier that day. Her eyes trail off, trying to find one person. Her eyes land on you and she can’t help the smile that forms on her lips.

You were standing with your friends, engaged in a lively conversation. You say something and she watches as they all push you playfully, causing you to spill your drink a little on your shirt. Your laughter fills the already loud environment, but it’s all Megan could hear. Her smile grows wider seeing you happy. She feels a slight tug on her wrist, causing her to turn her head, seeing Lara and the rest of her friends giving her unhappy looks. Megan sighs, bringing her drink back to her lips. Manon nudges her, her voice slightly exasperated, “Meg… We keep telling you, girl. Y/n is just straight up trouble.” Sophia nods in agreement. She looks at Meg with a worried look in her eyes. “The stories about them are so scary…” Megan frowns at her words.

They don’t know you like she does. She wishes they would just get to know you.

Megan takes another glance at you and feels her breath hitch when she sees you looking back at her. A soft smile appears on your face as your eyes connect. Megan waves and you do the same before getting pulled away by your friends to begin another beer pong match. She looks back at her friends, shaking her head. “Not trouble. Just a little silly, I think.” As she says this, she feels a hand on her shoulder and turns her head to see you smiling at her with a lopsided grin. She tilts her head and looks at you, giggling when she realizes how drunk you might be. She grabs your bicep, squeezing it gently. “Hey, what are you doing over here?” She asks. You simply wrap your arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. You sway her side to side, happy to see your Megan. You didn’t see her all day and you were afraid you weren’t going to see her at all. You hear her laughing and it makes you smile even wider– if that were even possible. You pull away and grab her shoulders, your eyes shining with excitement. “Wanna be my beer pong partner?”

The question makes Megan laugh even louder. She is terrible at pong and she is sure she has told you that a million times already. But the way you look at her with pleading eyes, how could she say no? She looks at her friends who are looking at you with disapproving looks. This only motivates Megan. She grabs your hand and looks into your eyes, smiling brightly. “Hell yeah. Let’s do it!” Suddenly, you pick her up, holding her bridal style. She squeals as you carry her toward the pong table. “Y/n! What the hell?!” She exclaims as your hold on her gets tighter. You yell, “This is my pong partner, everyone! I called dibs!” Megan covers her face with her hands, her cheeks becoming very red.

But she is enjoying every second of being in your arms.

One night, Megan receives a phone call from you at 3 AM.

She shifts in bed, annoyed with the persistent ringing underneath her pillow. She slides her phone towards her and sees your contact photo on full display. It’s a .5 photo of you wearing your glasses and one of Megan’s hoodies. Megan is usually thrilled to see your name on her phone. However, at 3 AM, she’s a bit aggravated.

It doesn’t stop her from answering though.

She turns to her side and answers. She whispers, “Y/n, what the hell?” It’s silent for a moment on the other end. Megan doesn’t hear anything and thinks the phone call is simply a buttdial. She is about to press the red button but your voice rings out. Your speech is slurred, “Mei Mei… Do you know how pretty you are?”

You’re drunk.

Megan sits up in her bed, quickly grabbing her glasses. She places them on and gets out of her bed quietly. She walks onto the balcony, not wanting to disturb her roommates. She sits down on one of the chairs and takes a deep breath. “Are you drunk?” You hum in response, causing Megan to chuckle. “Are you being safe?” Another hum can be heard. You respond, albeit incoherently, you manage words. “Yes… Had to walk outside… Needed air.” Megan nods, leaning back in the chair. She responds, “Do you need any help?” Your next words are unexpected.

“Do you know how much I like you?”

Megan freezes. Her breath catches in her throat and she isn’t sure if she heard you right. You continue, as if you didn’t just drop the biggest bombshell on Megan just now.

“It scares me how much I like you.”

Megan replies quietly, her voice betraying her as it shakes, “Why?” She hears you laugh on the other end. “Because I’m a fucking mess, are you kidding me?” Your response makes Megan frown. She shakes her head as if you were right in front of her. “You’re not a mess, Y/n…” She can hear you shuffling a bit on the other end and she imagines you pacing around. It makes her smile, everything about you makes her smile. You speak up again, groaning, “You’re like. The most beautiful person I know,” She stays silent on the other end. She bites her lip, trying to contain her smile as she hears you continue rambling.

“You just get it, you know? You get everything I say. You’re just so vibrant. And fun. And just so… Fucking beautiful,” Your words are so slurred and so messy but Megan loves it. She sits up, taking a deep breath, “Y/n–” You cut her off, continuing, “And you don’t care about all that shit about me. For the first time, someone actually wants to know me and I don’t get it. Why are you so nice to me?” The question makes Megan’s heart ache. She whispers, “Well… I like you.”

You chuckle. Megan doesn’t know it, but tears are brimming in your eyes. “Not like I do.”

Megan bites her lip. “You don’t know that.” She whispers in response.

There’s more shuffling on the other end and Megan covers her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. “Wait. I’m really fucking drunk right now… Can I talk to you about this tomorrow?” You ask. As much as you would love to have this conversation, it certainly did not go as you thought. You imagined your confession to Megan would be a lot more romantic than this, you had a plan and everything. Megan laughs loudly and all you can see in your head is her eyes squinted, her whisker dimples. She replies, “As long as you don’t regret what you just said then sure… I can wait.”

But when Megan said she could wait, she expected you to call her back in the afternoon when you were sober.

She doesn’t expect to hear a knock on her apartment door at noon. When she opens it, Megan’s eyes widen when she sees you standing at the door with a potted orchid. The determination in your eyes causes Megan’s heart to race. You look at her and whisper, “Did you mean it?” Megan nods. Her heart racing even faster. She whispers back, “Did… you?”

A beat.

Megan suddenly tastes mint toothpaste, spearmint gum, and the honey chapstick you always put on. It catches her off guard, but when she realizes what’s happening, she melts into the kiss. Her eyes flutter close as she cups your cheeks, her lips moving in rhythm with yours. You pull away, quickly setting the orchid down on the ground. Megan laughs but it’s silenced when you kiss her again, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her even closer. A content sigh escapes Megan as you deepen the kiss. She pulls you by the collar, dragging you into her apartment. She didn’t know what she expected, but god is she glad this is how it ended up.

“WAIT! The orchid!”

A bright light shines in your face and you squint, holding your hand up in an attempt to protect your eyes. “Is the light necessary?”

Megan’s friends stand in front of you with serious expressions, pointing a flashlight in your face. The lights are off and the Chinese girl sits in your lap, arms wrapped around your neck. She groans and buries her face in your shoulder, murmuring, “You guys are fucking crazy.” Sophia turns the flashlight, pointing it at Megan instead. “We are doing research.” She turns it back to you, shining it closer. The Filipina glares at you and it scares you shitless. When Megan told you that her friends wanted to get to know you better, you quickly agreed, wanting to hopefully change their opinion of you.

But you didn’t realize how poor that opinion was.

“So, you want to date our Megan?” You look up, trying to find the voice speaking to you. It’s Daniela and she scares you even more than Sophia. You realize you’re in for a long night. You nod pathetically, feeling a lump in your throat as they all continue looking at you as if you killed someone. You open your mouth to respond but a quiet knock is heard on their door. Sophia shines the light toward it, saying, “It’s probably Yoonchae. She asked to hang out with us after school.” You widen your eyes.

Another one? Fucking hell.

Manon walks to the door, opening it to reveal the girl. As she steps inside, you recognize her immediately. She seems to recognize you too because her eyes light up when she sees you. However, her face falls when she sees Sophia holding the flashlight. “What are you guys doing to my tutor?” Sophia quickly turns the flashback toward you, her eyes wide. “Tutor?!” She exclaims and you can’t help your eye roll. You sigh, holding Megan tighter. “Yeah… On the weekends I tutor high school students… I help Yoonchae with English.” Lara looks at Yoonchae with furrowed brows. “You never told us Y/n was your English tutor!” Yoonchae scoffs, putting her book bag down as she walks over to Sophia. She snatches the flashlight out of her hands with a glare. “You guys never asked. Now whatever this is, can it stop? I’d like to keep doing well.” Sophia sends you an apologetic look as Daniela walks over to the light switch, turning the lights back on in the living room. Yoonchae looks at Megan, who sits in your lap and puts the pieces together.

She points at Megan, eyes wide. “The girl you talked about for months is my best friend?!” Megan picks her head up from your shoulder and gives you a shit-eating grin. “You’ve been talking about me for months?!” You groan at her words, the entire situation feeling unreal as it unfolds. You push Megan off your lap, murmuring, “Maybe…” The Chinese girl squeals, wrapping her arms around you again. She is elated to know that none of it was in her head– that this entire time, you felt the exact same way. Megan’s friends look at you two, their eyes softening when they realize that you really weren’t as bad as people said you were. Lara smiles, happy that Megan found her person. “Okay… I guess you have our blessing, Y/n.” Lara’s words make you light up, looking up to see everyone finally looking at you with positive expressions. However, Manon points a finger at you, her eyes deadly, “But if you do anything to hurt Meg, we’re cutting your dick off.”

You choke on your words. “I- I- don’t have–” Daniela cuts you off, her tone sharp, “We said what we said!” You close your mouth, effectively silenced. It brings you happiness to know Megan has such amazing friends but it sure does make you piss your pants.

“Are you coming out with us tonight?” You look up from your easel to see one of your friends from class. You shake your head, turning your attention back to your task. You reply, “Nah, I’m hanging out with Megan tonight.” Your friend groans, pushing you gently. He crosses his arms with a disappointed look on his face. “Dude, that Megan girl got you on a leash. Come out with us!” His statement makes you chuckle. You shrug your shoulders, still working on your piece. “Bow wow, I guess.” You deadpan and he just sighs, walking away to ask another friend of yours if they are coming out for the night. You subtly take your phone out to send a text to your girlfriend.

You: missing you

You: wanna hang out tonight? im free

Megan: i thought you were going downtown tonight with your friends???

You: plans were cancelled :P

Megan: MY MANIFESTATIONS WORKED

Megan: ROBLOX. MY BED. AFTER CLASS. You: YOU GOT IT PRETTY <333333

a/n: LOOK I DID IT!!! ITS FLUFFY AND EVERYONE IS HAPPY!!! i hope everyone enjoyed this fic and pls lmk what you think <3 this is dedicated to everyone who begged me for fluff content LMAO

requests are open

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reiiaokii · 1 month ago

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MYMYMYMYMYMYM YES LAWDDD

┈─★ 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 ?

⊹ ࣪ ˖ when an unexpected breakup leaves you without a date to your sister’s wedding, it’s perfect, confident lara raj, the goalie for your university's hockey team, who jumps in to your rescue and volunteers to keep up a charade until your family is off your back. but as your friendship deepens, the lines begin to blur between what’s real and what’s for show.

ˎˊ˗ ❄️ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🔓୭˚. ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

➴ pairing: hockey player! lara raj x physical therapy major!f!reader

➴ genre + wc: 12k, college au, FAKE DATING!, mutual pining, extremely slow burn, friends to lovers, denial of feelings, charming hockey jock lara, super domestic and slice of life-y, reader is a chronic overthinker and people pleaser...., just more fluff idk

➴ you might want to tune in...: sticky - kiss of life

┈─★ a/n: goalie lara anyone? the hockey au expands w our favorite team mommy <33 this fic is set overlapping the events of ditto, so if you're waiting for ditto pt 2, this gives a tiny behind the scenes. i am so in love w writing the dynamics in this verse, i hope everyone enjoys! dani's upcoming fic will complete the trio and prob be the longest of the three. also should clarify: megan + ditto!y/n are freshmen; hlbwfil!y/n, lara and dani are sophomores; sophia and manon are juniors.

cw:// mentions of recreational drug use, some suggestiveness? also reader BRIEFLY dates a man...

[*set overlapping the events of ditto-- read first here if you don't want spoilers!]

a new semester, same routine. it’s your second year as the women’s hockey team’s resident physical therapist in training. kinesiology isn’t an easy major, but you love it with your whole heart, and the girls all make it worth it.

“i’m just saying, matching tattoos would look sick,” daniela says as the golden trio approaches the physio room after their showers.

“yeah, but not of each other’s faces,” megan grimaces. you laugh at the notion that dani would even suggest it.

“oh my god, the world’s most beautiful girl,” lara smiles, dropping down onto the cushioned bench in front of you.

“oh my god, i must be a mirror,” you grin back.

you won’t talk about your soft spot for the trio. you love all of the girls on the team, but there’s a special bond you built with the three musketeers. megan, the baby of the team, who opened up to you about how much she misses her mom as you walk her through some stretches for her back strain. dani, the chaotic team captain with no boundaries, who beams every time you compliment her after she makes it through her ice bath without flinching.

and lara raj. you especially won’t talk about your soft spot for lara, the confident, secure goalie who you’ve grown especially close with.

you know lara makes it a habit to be this nice to everybody. it comes with the territory. you know lara comes from money without flaunting it, always offering to cover meals for the girls with that insanely heavy black credit card with her dad’s name on it. she’s told you a little bit about how good she’s had it, the perfect parents, a super nice older sister, solid grades and of course, a talent for making sure a puck never flies past her.

it’s easy to love lara— perfect, confident, generous lara.

(so maybe you let yourself love her, just a little too much, but that’s for you to keep to yourself.)

lara’s compliments can sometimes come off as a bit much, but that’s the thing you’ve realized with her. while megan is usually too nervous to choke out anything, and dani says whatever is on her mind with no filter, lara finds the perfect balance. lara is observant and attentive, and she sees people for what they care about and finds a way to make them feel seen for it.

well, you don’t exactly prioritize being beautiful, but it’s a bonus that lara likes to call her loved ones pretty.

“can i talk to you about something?” she asks as you put stabilizing tape on her shoulder. your supervisor is in the office coming up with treatment plans for that week for the rest of the team.

despite daniela being the one that boasts the giant “c” on her jersey, lara is the de facto team mom. while dani is the one screaming in coach’s face about his unfair treatment of a player, lara the one constantly waving you down when someone tries to hide an injury or fake feeling better, making sure they get the attention they need instead of toughing it out. their dynamic is polar opposite, the defender and the caretaker but the two best friends complete each other.

“what’s up?” you hum, watching as the strips of KT tape start to make a mesmerizing pattern against lara’s soft skin.

“i’m worried about meg’s grade in our english class.” she whispers, ensuring the girl can’t hear you guys from outside the door. “dani chat gpt’s it all and gets away with it, i feel fine, but we’re struggling to help her keep up.”

“you told her not to take intro to british lit with you,” you remind her.

“i know, but i don’t think it’ll help to rub it in right now,” she sighs. “it’s so much reading."

you feel your brow furrow as you remember your assistant coach whispering something about academic probation to your head coach once last week, when they were doing their monthly grade assessment. the season is going so well, and megan’s been absolutely killing her position as center to the point that she’s the starter, so you can imagine how bad the team would suffer if she gets temporarily barred from playing.

you see the look in her eyes. lara’s worried about what it’ll do to megan if she gets dinged for her grades and has to stop playing, even for a short amount of time.

“when yunjin got diagnosed with adhd, she was able to talk to the university resource center to ask for more time during tests,” you remember, wracking your brain for a solution. the defenseman had told you about it at the very beginning of the semester, as if it was a hack.

“okay, period. we have a plan a,” lara beams. “you and that big brain, y/n.”

you feel your ears redden and shake your head. “what’s our plan b in case my big brain fails?”

“i will seduce her professor and change the grade myself,” she decides. you laugh but quickly feel yourself furrow as she winces at the you bend her shoulder. she tries to keep you away from changing the topic. “i’ll take one for the team. maybe that should be plan a, actually.”

“hey, no,” you press gently, concerned. she had told you the shoulder was pain free. “is your rotator cuff still bothering you?”

“it’s sore when i don’t stretch it, but that’s just me getting old,” lara waves you off.

“what do you think i’m going to say to you next?” you ask her.

“oh my god, y/n, always so non-confrontational. like my little conscience in my ear, asking me questions until the guilt eats me alive,” lara laughs, shoving you away from her. “it’s so annoying how good at that you are, you pacifist.”

you smile and put your supplies away, but lara’s words are nothing but the truth. you’re so painfully fearful of confrontation, it’s almost a joke that the career you’ve picked is with a full contact sport.

you open your mouth to say something, to ask further about the injury, when your phone ringing catches your attention. you feel yourself tense as you see the contact photo.

but lara, perfect, attentive lara, never misses anything with you.

“boyfriend again?”

she gives you a questioning look. she knows everything about you, including how rocky things have been with your less than attentive boyfriend lately.

“distance isn’t easy on anyone,” you say simply, but her look says enough. she gets up and offers you a reassuring hug.

“you’re not just anyone, so don’t let him treat you like you are.” how the hell does she always manage to sound straight out of a soap opera? you nod, blinking back the rising heat in your chest at the nerves

“it’s complicated,” you remind her, but she’s already giving you that look. you hate how you guys can communicate so much with so little.

you flag your supervisor to come check your work and step outside to take the call. you can feel lara’s eyes on you the whole time.

“hi felix…”

a week passes by, and so do two more phone calls that go the exact same way. all ending with a knot in your stomach at his words. you’re silently grateful that your roommate dropped out in the second week of school. a solo dorm all to yourself is a luxury you don’t take for granted when you’re so constantly fighting on the phone with someone into the late hours of the night.

“he’s mad about me not calling him when he got out of class again,” you sigh over facetime with daniela, as you flop onto your bed after a particularly boring history lecture. “i have explained so many times that i go straight from class to go work on you guys after practice.”

“go cheat on him or something,” daniela says simply. “he’s an annoying little bitch.”

“dani,” you sigh exasperatedly. you love her, but it’s easy to see why coach blames her for his going bald. she can be extremely difficult and give zero fucks about it.

you’ve always kept an extremely small circle. but lara’s in class, megan has never been in a relationship, yunjin is out with her girlfriend, and you’d rather die than talk to your sister about your boyfriend issues.

which leaves daniela, whose brash, calloused responses remind you just how perfect and emotionally in-tune with you lara is.

however, what daniela lacks in tact she makes up for in passion and pure heart, so you can always read between the lines and see her intentions are good.

“dude, come get fucked up with me and the kappa theta girls this weekend and you will literally never want to talk to that limp dick loser again.”

okay. mostly good intentions.

you remain silent as you assess the lack of food in your minifridge. usually, the silent treatment works wonders to get dani back on track, and this time is no exception.

“well, either way, you’ve always got lara who’d drop anything to marry you in a heartbeat.”

you laugh. that’d what you needed, the thing the three musketeers are so good at– saying the stupidest things.

“i’m ready when she is,” you tell her jokingly, tossing an old box of leftovers into the trash.

“been ready. break up with your soggy bitch and i’ll take y’all to the courthouse tomorrow.” you hear her laugh, but then you hear something like water bubbling, followed by a long exhale.

“don’t you have a press conference tomorrow?” you laugh, realizing exactly what the noise was.

“why do you think i’m getting baked out of my mind right now instead of in the morning? for a smart girl you’re kinda dumb sometimes, y/n,” she teases.

“don’t flirt with me too loud now, my dorm’s gonna end up burnt down by one of your crazy stalkers,” you deadpan dryly, realizing you need to go get something to eat.

“when you decide you’re done with that fucking joke of a man, i know a girl who’s lined up waiting for you,” she tells you between coughs, “and unfortunately for you, it isn’t me.”

“thanking god that i’m the one girl on earth who won’t take a ride on the avanzini train,” you laugh. daniela has always been respectfully inappropriate, and she’s one of the few people you feel comfortable enough to tease. “your ride’s probably messed up anyways.”

“100% satisfaction rate, lots of insistent repeat customers actually,” she defends herself passionately. “i wouldn’t be so bold, y/n, your shit is probably whack if it’s got your man tweaking so bad.”

“and the convo ends nee-ow,” you sigh, shaking your head, but your heart feels a little less heavy after dani’s nonsense. “thanks for cheering me up, captain.”

“thanks for patching us up all the time. we love you, y/n. keep your head up.”

the line dies out, and you go to lace up your sneakers. as much as dani loves to say shit to get a rise out of people, you think back over her words. lara.

perfect, confident lara has always been honest about how much she adores you. at first, you used to think it was just her way of making you feel comfortable around all of them. the hockey team is close, freakishly close, and she was always so warm and thoughtful enough to invite you to all their outings and make you feel included. she never had to– you’re only with them through next year, and then senior year you’ll be at the university medical center working in a real physical therapy clinic for your clinical rotation. your end goal is sports medicine, and you’d love to get hired by the hockey team once you graduate, but you need to keep your options open and be prepared for anything.

plus, you and felix are supposed to look for jobs in the same city once you graduate, move in together, build a life…

that beautiful, melodic voice enters your head as you hunt down your wallet. lara loved to bat her eyes at you whenever you mentioned not knowing what comes after graduation: “aw y/n, don’t you wanna take care of me forever?”

in the early days, you used to think she and dani were the same breed of college athlete. cocky, arrogant, flirtatious. the flirting rang true for the both of them, but you started to see where lara differed. she was tender, caring, and empathetic at times you had least expected.

the first time she ever told you she’d liked you, you thought it was another one of her mindless flirtations. you had learned to let them roll off your shoulder by that point. but even after you had laughed, she stood there, brows arched, and reiterated it. “y/n, i’m serious. i really am into you.”

you feel your spine tingle at the memory. what are you supposed to do with that? you and felix had just hit a year. a rocky, bumpy year, but you had met just after high school and you figured you owed it your best shot. lara was quickly one of your closest friends, and you had confided everything in her.

she never defined it as a crush, nor did she ever make you feel guilty for it. her transparency was equal parts confusing and refreshing. it made your friendship stronger, if anything. never crossing the line of touching too close or flirting too passionately. you two existed in a weird limbo– lara raj was somehow in love with you, openly so, and yet was so damn perfect she never made it big enough to affect your friendship.

(this is the part where you try to stop thinking about it before your head has a hard time making sense of it all… but… don’t you love her too?)

you step out of your dorm and spot an unfamiliar girl letting herself into your neighbor’s dorm. your neighbor, baby megan skiendiel’s dorm. you feel a rise of suspicion. chronically bitchless megan, as the trio calls her? maybe you’ll give her roomie danielle a heads up?

meg’s got someone over. she’s reaaaallly pretty

i appreciate you! ;-; best neighbour ever!

ofc <333

i think she mentioned something about a study partner?

you smile and step out of the building into the chilly night air. lara made it happen. you know megan would have been too nervous to ask for the support on her own, so it must have been with the guidance of the older girls that–

your phone buzzes. felix, again.

“i just barely got home and headed to dinner, like the second you called me,” you tell him quickly as you pick up, wanting to avoid another fight. you can feel yourself already breathless and anxious.

“why do you always talk to me like that? like i’m an idiot. i’m not an idiot, y/n. did it ever occur to you that your standards are just too unrealistic?” his voice is so cold, making your stomach turn as you keep walking towards the dining hall, trying to avoid letting your eyes water before you see someone you may know.

“i don’t think it’s that ridiculous. we’re long distance. we don’t have the easy things to fall back on,” you furrow your eyebrows, nearly disgusted.

but then he pauses, and you can hear him suck in a breath. your stomach drops at the way his tone changes.

“maybe we should think about that. if the distance is too hard.”

“what the fuck, felix?” you try not to make it a habit to swear, but the tears are already pricking at the corners of your eyes. you want to scream but everything stays trapped in your chest.

“you gave up forever ago,” he accuses you.

“you think so?” is all you can manage to ask. it’s moments like this where you admire someone as unhinged as daniela, who you’re sure could easily give him a piece of her mind, or yunjin, who won’t stand for even a whiff of disrespect.

or lara, you think, who’d know her worth enough to just hang up and move right on along.

you lose yourself in silence as felix unleashes a rant that feels much too pre-prepared to be brought on by simply missing his call. you feel your chest ache at the thought of everything changing for you. you don’t know how much time has passed before he realizes you haven’t said anything. you’ve always hated that about him. you’re naturally reserved, and it’s almost like he just assumes you have nothing to say.

he ends the call when he’s ready, with a “sorry it had to be like this, y/n,” and you’re too drained to fight him on it. you stop and sit on a nearby bench to wipe your face clean and send a quick rescue text to the only person you really want to talk to in that moment.

lara’s calling you less than 30 seconds after you hit send.

“lar, you’re in class, you didn’t have to call me,” you chastise her gently, but you know there’s no point.

“i know you said call you after class, but that’s such an sos, you never need anything so i know this has got to be the real deal,” she tells you.

“i just needed to get out of my head.”

“everything okay?” she asks tenderly.

“um, no. not really.” you take a deep breath and look up, trying to avoid the well of tears coming back up. “i think felix and i just broke up.”

“oh, fuck that guy. never liked him. i’m coming to get you in 5.”

perfect, always-knows-what-to-say lara raj does exactly that, tracking you by your location just a few minutes later, and insists you two go out to eat and tell her everything. it stings, but lara’s presence makes everything more bearable. maybe this isn’t the worst thing that could have come out of today.

you wake up in your dorm and feel the dull, anxious buzz in your stomach as you remember yesterday’s call. but spending the rest of the night with one of your favorite people had made it practically melt away, and by the time she had dropped you off, felix was far out of your mind.

you’re taking the breakup better than most would expect, but then again, you’ve also been called “the statue” by coach by how non-reactive you are.

what’s the point in losing your cool and letting others get the best of you? sure, your sister grew up walking all over you, but most of the time, it wasn’t worth it to get into it with her. you’ve been like this since you were little– you hoard your emotions, stoic through all hardships, too afraid to let people see you struggle and think any less of you. your dad’s always been such a worry wart, your step-mom is insanely judgemental, and your sister jordan gets everything she wants, never once having understood what it’s like to feel like a burden.

your sister, who you haven’t thought of all night. why would you? this breakup is about–

oh god. your very demanding, very aggressive, very engaged-to-be-married-in-two-weeks, sister.

your jaw nearly drops as you realize the extra layer of what your breakup means for you. your hands shake in panic.

breakfast with lara. you feel it anchor you, ever so slightly. there’s an idea that pops into your head that you barely let yourself contemplate before realizing if there’s anyone who could come to your rescue, it might be perfect, angel lara.

“you know i’d never ask anything of you, ever, right?” you start as the two of you sit down, setting your trays onto the table.

“yes, you’re too proud and too hardworking,” lara nods, grinning as you smack her shoulder.

“okay,” you breathe nervously, “well i am extremely embarrassed to ask you this, but my psychopath of a sister is getting married in two weeks and i already told her i was in a relationship, so if i show up alone, she’s never going to let me hear the end of it, ‘cause she planned for a specific seating arrangement and—”

oh my god, you realize you’re rambling. you try to pivot to what the bigger issue is.

“damn, okay, well let me just say that my my stepmom will be weird, my dad is gonna overreact and make me come back home, i won’t get to finish my program–”

oh my god, again you gasp at yourself. this is why the hell you don’t let yourself panic. you crack.

there’s a pause as you see lara digest all of it.

“parents love me,” lara finally grins. you let out the breath that had been stuck in your throat. you feel an immense gratitude that she isn’t pushing you to say it.

how could you possibly mutter the words out loud? will you be my fake date to this real wedding?

“i’m so sure yours did,” you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but laugh. she’s got the confidence of a child who was never told no.

“all parents,” she pushes back, poking you in the ribs.

“don’t get too cocky. it was between you, daniela, and meg, but meg gets nervous when someone even breathes next to her and dani is-”

“oh my god,” lara covers her mouth with her hand at the image in her head. “she’d be forcing your family members to drink shots out of her mouth and harassing the dj.”

you hold three fingers up, and fold them down as you go through the lineup of your options. “our infant daughter who can barely remember her own name, hot-headed attention whore with no boundaries, or charming and slightly overconfident sweetheart.”

“i’m going to pretend my competition wasn’t those two idiots and just tell myself i was the clear winner from the start.”

“i’ll owe you everything,” you tell her gently.

“i’m happy to do it.” she shakes her head, before a beaming grin. “you know it’s inevitable that we fall in love though, right?”

you laugh, but she reaches out to you, and your hands meet over the table. what a massive reassurance.

“lara i can’t stress enough how thankful i am, and how anxious over all of it i am.”

“i got this,” she reassures you, confident nod. “i’ve got you.”

“thank you,” you breathe quietly once more, and you feel your heart stir. you do trust her, with your whole heart actually, to make this work.

you’re supposed to be sleeping in when the blare of your phone ringing shocks you awake. again, grateful to live alone.

“ugh, jordy, it’s 6 in the damn morning,” you groan as you bring the phone to your ear. your sister has her own special ringtone, love by keyshia cole, her stupid go to karaoke song.

“y/n,” jordan drawls, and you roll your eyes as you remember she simply does not care about inconveniencing you. “my friend wants to know if you’ll let her third wheel you at the table. i’ve never met your boyfriend so i want to know he won’t be weird with her.”

you almost don’t remember what she’s talking about, until you feel your body tense. the damn wedding looming over your head.

the good thing about being notoriously private, you realize, is that you had kept your relationship entirely between the two of you. felix had hated how you never posted him, never let him tag you in anything, never let him meet your family or friends, simply told them “i’m seeing someone” once you had hit six months. you bite your tongue. maybe you could see why he’d be so frustrated… but you’ve always wanted to keep your business to yourself, and having someone associated to you for people to judge you off of would be entirely unfair to you.

“girlfriend,” you correct her quietly. as soon as the word comes out, you can’t hide from it any more. you and lara are committing to the charade.

“girlfriend?” she sounds surprised, but not annoyed. “okay, but she needs to wear my colors or i’ll kill her.”

you breathe a quiet laugh. at least jordan can always make things about herself. “i’ll make sure she knows.”

“anyways, my friend, she’s so cute, says she’s in your research methods class,” she pivots back to her initial ask. “i’ll tell her she can link up with you whenever. i’ll give her your instagram.”

before you can say anything, jordan hangs up unceremoniously. you furiously get dressed and brush your teeth, trying to rush to lara as soon as physically possible. this adds a kink to your plan.

you make it to her dorm in a few and punch in her keycode, letting yourself into her room quietly. you poke around to see if her roommates are home and if you’ll wake her, but luckily, the only person you see in the bed is her.

your heart thuds. perfect, sweet lara raj, slumbering like an angel, her lips parted slightly and her brows furrowed in her sleep.

“lar,” you gently hum, approaching with caution. “lar, it’s y/n.”

you had let yourself into her dorm after her insistence before, and as she stirs awake, a smile takes to her lips. “i was hoping it’d be you when i heard the door.”

“um, so, issue.” you whisper, kneeling by her bed as you play with her hair to help her wake up. “my sister basically wants a friend of her’s to hang out with us so she’s not uncomfortable at the wedding, but i have no clue who the friend is.”

lara rubs at her eyes sleepily, reaching for her phone as she looks up at you. “which means…”

“i’m really sorry.” the weight of this isn’t lost upon you. “is there any way we can be like, pretend exclusive for the next week and a half? if this girl sees you out with someone and texts my sister then it’s all pointless.”

“oh, so like, fully off the market?” lara arches an eyebrow.

“i know it’s a huge ask.”

there’s a heavy pause, and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you alive. what an embarrassing situation to force lara into. you’d fully understand if she’d push back.

but perfect, helpful lara raj simply grins up at you and shows you her phone, finger hovering over her dating apps folder as she deletes them one by one in front of you.

“i’ll delete my tinder right now.” she says easily. “not about to blow your cover.”

you let out a deep breath and swarm her in a hug. “lara, you’re a godsend.”

“not my first time hearing that,” she beams back at you.

you get a dm in that moment from a random photography instagram that had followed you later that morning. the profile picture is of a tree, giving you no hints about this girl’s identity.

peanutbutterlover02: hey <3 jordan said i could come crash you guys! are you busy today? maybe we can do dinner together?

you breathe shakily. your first test as a fake couple.

“let’s do it,” lara says confidently, and you realize she’s reading over your shoulder.

“if my asks ever get too weird, please, please say something.” you tell her firmly. “i don’t ever want you uncomfortable just to help me out. we can scale it back any time if the lines get blurry.”

“y/n, this is like a dream come true for me,” lara teases. “i’ll speak up if i need to, but don’t worry too much about me, okay?”

“thank you,” you breathe shakily, and send a reply to this girl with a time and place.

you’re getting ready for the hang out after practice when lara texts you.

meg and dani found out we’re going to the makers market and want to come... maybe a small group will make her more comfortable?

our first exposure is a group thing?

if that’s okay?

won’t they be weird about us acting like that?

do you trust them to keep a secret?

you’re heading out the dorm but pause in your tracks. one massive factor you didn’t consider— the girl with no filter.

oh my god daniela

and that big mouth

i will beg her

no don’t do that, pretty girl. i’ll talk to her. she’ll always do it for the team.

lara always manages to find a way. you feel your chest loosen and keep walking, shooting a message to jordan’s friend before jumping back to lara.

my hero

;)

we’ll be there in like 5

you spot the girl on the bench in front of the library, exactly where you agreed to meet up.

“hi!” she greets, pulling you in for a hug. “you’re jordy’s sister. i’m manon.”

“how do you know each other?” you ask curiously. jordan is a bitch, in every sense, and manon seems so… normal?

“jordy is my hair girl.” she smiles and taps at the intricate patterns along her scalp. “cleanest parts i have ever seen.”

“i’m y/n,” you smile, and let out a small breath before you commit fully to the act. no turning back now. “my girlfriend and her friends will be here super soon.”

as if on cue, you hear old justin bieber rnb blaring from an approaching vehicle, and recognize lara’s car right away.

“hi ladies,” lara beams from the window as she pulls up to the curb. you see the ginger hair and blonde curls in the back. “your uber is here.”

manon squeezes into the back, and you take the passengers seat. you suck in a breath. maybe you and lara should have practiced how to be, what to do, how to navigate this, especially in front of two of your closest friends. lara makes easy work of chatting up manon and keeping the conversation flowing until you guys get to the makers market, a bustling farmers market for art where they block off a whole street for vendors.

you’re too busy overthinking to notice megan and daniela’s widened eyes as lara snakes an arm around your waist as you all start walking. your skin tenses at the contact.

lara, confident, unshakable lara, does it as if you’ve been hers for years. this might not be a mission destined for failure after all.

manon is extremely sweet and undeniably hilarious. the evening goes on without a hitch (maybe besides dani trying to race megan to see who can eat their korean corn dog faster causing both of them to choke) but even the small hiccups are nothing compared to how natural lara is at making this so convincing. she’s touching you at every opportunity, taking pictures of you each time you turn back to look at her, buying every thing you even look at. you know it’s all for show, but you can’t help but think of how easy she makes it seem. if felix was this competent, he’d be the one you’d want here right now, but lara does all the things you begged him to do, without having to be asked.

you guys are back on campus before 9pm, but you’re having too much fun. you spend a lot of time buried in anatomy textbooks or watching orthopedic surgeries, and tonight, you just want to enjoy it with your friends.

“we can go back to my room,” you offer to the group as you guys wander out of the parking garage. “i have a single.”

the group agrees, and the five of you make it to your dorm in just a few minutes walking. lara’s hand snakes into yours, and you feel your spine tingle.

“do you guys smoke?” manon raises her brows hopefully, holding up her bag. you guide them all up the stairs of the building and into your room, plugging in your twinkle lights.

“fuck yeah,” dani beams.

“aren’t we getting drug tested this week?” megan asks worriedly.

“next week, kiddo,” lara rubs the top of her head playfully. “and we’ll just skip you. no pressure.”

manon takes a pre-roll out of the hand-painted altoid tin in her purse and you head over to crack the window. in just a few minutes, you’re all laughing on the floor of your room, nodding along to music playing from your speaker, passing the joint around amongst the group.

“why didn’t they give you captain?” you ask lara. “you’re such a good role model. minus the recreational drug use and flirting with everyone you know.”

“they wanted to, actually. did you know that?” megan says, a bright grin on her lips.

“you said no?” you ask in surprise. lara is staring at the ground, thumb rubbing along the bottom of your braids.

“i didn’t want it.” she shrugs calmly, taking another inhale. “i like hockey, i just like other things too. can’t make it my whole life, duh.”

“plus, she doesn’t have the same face i do for interviews,” dani butts in, flexing dramatically. “cameras love the curls + dimple combo.”

manon snorts, and you and lara exchange smiles. you won’t talk about how comfortable it feels to have lara leaning against your shoulder, playing with your hair, the proximity of her washing a wave of comfort over you.

“hey do you guys think i have negative aura just ‘cause i didn’t smoke?” megan asks, nose wrinkling as she watches you guys hand the joint amongst yourselves.

“no. you’re bitchless because you’re scared of your own shadow,” daniela quickly answers, and megan’s face drops.

“bro, i can totally pull.”

“i see no bitches,” dani claps back. “all you do is text that tutor of yours. get her to at least show you a titty or something, come on.”

the four of you laugh in tandem as megan glares at the blonde.

“don’t talk about my tutor like that.”

“a boundary, from the baby?” lara all but cries, beaming so brightly you feel like she might fall over. “baby’s first boundary! get the camera!”

megan rolls her eyes and waves her off. you guys talk and talk into a random hour of the night, enjoying the calm of getting to know someone new and change up the routine just a bit. this yap session is a welcome change of pace, and you’ve never enjoyed yourself more than listening to dani debate with anyone who disagrees with her, watching megan push back weakly, manon simply laugh at everything, and lara reel it in when it gets too crazy while still adding fuel to the fire. you could stay like this forever, you think to yourself.

“it’s so late,” you realize as you finally look at your phone for the first time all night. “you guys can stay so you don’t have to walk back when it’s so dark.”

“i live next door,” megan tells manon, excusing herself. “this was fun.”

“we should totally do it again, thank you guys for being so fun,” manon smiles, before assessing your room. you have your bed, the extra bed, and a wide space between the two beds in the middle of the dorm. “if it’s okay to stay, i can totally sleep on the floor with no issue.”

“no way, you’re the guest,” you insist, reaching under your bed to locate your extra blankets. manon and dani start cleaning up the ash tray and trying to air out your room.

your brain runs through the possible combinations. manon on the floor, jordan finds out and kills you. dani on the floor, she’ll complain all night. you guys could figure out sharing beds, manon and dani could—

your eyes widen, and as if she’s thinking about the exact same combination, lara’s panicked gaze meets you at the exact same time.

“no fucking chance,” lara whispers. “the animal needs her own bed,”

the only viable solution makes itself painfully clear as you shrug and whisper back to lara. “we could sleep on the floor.”

“perfect. always with the plans,” she beams back happily. lara directs the two, gesturing to the separate beds. “you’ll be here, and you’ll be here.”

“i can’t do that to you,” manon frowns, seeing you set up the pillow and blanket on the carpeted floor.

“it’s too small for us to both fit. we’re happier like this anyways,” lara insists, and it’s enough for manon to offer a smile of gratitude. everyone gets into their assigned spots, the smell of incense and the buzz of your fan lulling you into drowsiness after lara turns off your lights.

“good night manon, thanks for hanging out with us,” you tell her, happy to have made a new friend.

“say good night to me,” daniela pouts.

“you’re the reason we can’t make normal friends,” lara snips back.

manon laughs. “i love you guys already.”

“good night,” lara whispers in your ear as she arranges herself besides you, pressing a kiss into your hair. the feeling is so foreign coming from her, and yet you feel your body seek her out as you press back into her hug.

you close your eyes and let her pull you close. you know there’s an end in sight, but maybe you’ll let yourself pretend it could be longer.

the next morning, everyone disperses to their own dorms before the day starts. you make it through your classes though it’s a struggle with the lack of sleep. by the time you come out of your final class of the day, ready to head towards the ice rink to prepare for the girls’ practice, a familiar figure is standing outside your classroom, leaning against the wall. her eyes light up as she spots you.

“what are you doing?” you ask, seeing her practice bag slung over her shoulder.

“we date, so i walk you to practice,” she says simply, reaching out for you. “duh.”

you remember that her last class of the day ended over an hour ago, meaning she must have waited for you. you shake your head in surprise. “your class is closer to the stadium.”

“i’d rather walk with you,” she says back easily. perfect, charming lara raj, always ready to push back against your excuses.

“there’s no need to be that public,” you respond. ugh, why can’t you just accept the gesture. she wants to make your life so easy and yet something in you can’t accept the generosity.

“what if manon sees us and is wondering why we don’t seem loved up?” lara challenges you. “i’d hate to have her tell your sister we’re fighting.”

“more people might ask questions,” you whisper nervously.

“let them.” she smiles, forever a beacon of confidence. “not their business.”

you’re running out of reasons to push her away. “coach?”

“we can tell him it’s new. who’s he gonna tell?”

she takes your hand in hers, and you let her, wishing you had let her a long, long time ago.

it becomes way too easy to go through these motions with lara. when you’re alone, she’s respectful, never needing to make any advances that don’t suit the moment, allowing your friendship to still be anchored in some normalcy. the touches are intimate but never suggestive, the compliments are tender but never too intense, and she’s only ever kissed you on the head or on the hand.

but you start to struggle when you’re alone, craving her closeness but confused as to why you’d want that if it’s just the two of you. you think about the timeline of this insanely busy week. tomorrow, the pre-game party. day after, the championship game, and the day after that, you fly in the morning to make it to the wedding by the evening. your facade is coming to an end, and you know you guys should figure out what the story will be as to why you’ll inevitably “break up,” but each time you guys hang out late at night with manon, all you can focus on is immersing yourself in the experience.

you’re all laying on the floor of your dorm, smoking dani’s weed this time (megan as the exception, too nervous to risk it the week of such an important game) and chatting mindlessly. manon won’t be able to make it to tomorrow’s party, so you guys all make it a point to have another of your yap sessions in your room.

“with the exception of the obvious happy couple,” manon starts her question, staring up at the ceiling. “have you guys ever been in love before?”

“no.” megan’s nose wrinkles. “i just barely started kissing people.”

“a few times,” lara confesses, calmly. she had mentioned a few of her relationships back when you guys were just friends, a few flings you noticed her get caught up in. you never minded, lara was never ever supposed to hold back just because she had admitted to liking you, but you couldn’t help but wonder about these girls every time you noticed her get into something new. “maybe three. i’m not in the business of denying my feelings.”

“which one was the deepest?” manon asks curiously.

lara pauses, contemplating. you don’t expect anything from her. in 48 hours, she won’t owe you anything. but yet, perfect, angelic lara, always manages to catch you off guard.

“this one,” she says, and you can’t tear your eyes away from her. her confession rattles through your chest. “it’s like a dream, but i know it’s a dream, and i’m trying to enjoy it as much as i could before i have to wake up.”

you feel your pulse in your neck. manon and megan both turn to look at you. any other time, you’d avoid the question and leave it there– sure, you had liked felix, enough to stay with him all that time, but there was never anything about him that rattled you, that unnerved you and comforted you all at once. had you ever even really liked him in the first place? had you admired, respected, felt seen by him?

(had you ever once loved him, even half as much as you love lara raj?)

you let out a shaky breath. maybe you can be brave enough to say it out loud, just this time, let yourself pretend before it’s all over.

“once,” you finally admit. lara’s eyes come to meet yours.

“yeah?”

“perfect girl is easy to love,” you tell her simply. your chest warms and she brings her nose to rest against the tip of yours.

“once, for me too,” dani says, staring blankly at the ceiling. the admission surprises you, and you can tell lara and megan seem just as caught off guard. daniela lets out a quiet breath. “just once.”

“what happened?” you pry gently.

daniela laughs, and it’s the first time in the two years you’ve known her that you’ve ever heard her with a hint of something more in her voice. “it fucking hurt. i didn’t ever want to go through that again.”

“should i be scared?” megan asks, brows furrowing in concern.

“no,” daniela says quickly, waving her off. “i’m a lightning strike. being in love is so, so beautiful.”

“how do you know when it happens?” the ginger asks, voice gentle.

“you just know,” manon says simply.

megan pauses for a beat, before letting out a quiet breath. “i want to change my answer.”.

“oh?” you ask.

“tutor girl?” lara arches a brow, turning away from you to peer over at the youngest girl.

“she’s so easy to like. she’s so, so smart, and so nice to me, even when she’s being playful, she’s doing it to make me laugh. she believes in me, through everything. every time i’m around her i just feel like i don’t have to be anyone but myself, whoever i am that day. i’ll call her when i’m on the road, and it makes me feel better.” megan doesn’t usually have this much to say about anything, and it warms you to hear her go on and on like this. she looks down at her hands, playing with her fingernails. “i invited her to the party tomorrow, and it sucks ‘cause i know i’ve got no fucking chance.”

“i think you’re really brave for letting yourself dive in. sometimes it just feels to say it out loud, even if nothing comes from it,” manon tells her, smiling in encouragement.

“i think i’m in love,” megan whispers quietly.

gentle snores are heard from the corner. you all peek over to see dani peacefully slumbering from her spot on the floor.

“leave her there,” lara laughs. “we’ll deal with her complaints in the morning.”

“can i stay here tonight?” megan asks, grimacing. “i can’t tell if my stomach hurts because of the party, the game, or the fact that i’m super down bad.”

“always,” you offer a nod of reassurance.

manon and megan shuffle in to fit into the other bed, and lara joins you in yours. dani’s quiet snores are somehow extremely comforting.

“thanks for letting me talk about it, guys,” megan thanks them quietly. manon smiles and the two turn back-to-back in the bed.

lara’s eyes are warm, still fixed on yours as you face each other in the tight squeeze into your twin bed. you close your eyes and curl up, lara resting her chin on the top of your head as she hugs you from the front. you feel your entire body melt into her.

her voice is gentle, and infinitely tender as she murmurs into your hair.

“y/n y/ln, i’m in love with you.”

“ugh. i want that,” manon groans from the bed.

you don’t open your eyes. lara’s voice lingers in your ears. what a beautiful song to fall asleep to.

the party the next day is 10x as insane as the girls initially told you it would be. bodies everywhere, volume threatening to split your eardrums. jordan has tried to call you at least twice to make final arrangements before her wedding in two days, but each time you try to find an empty room, you’ve found either yunjin and her girlfriend making out, a random group snorting something off a table, or a screaming couple in the middle of a fight. you make your way back downstairs and decide your sister can wait.

besides, it’s one of your last times getting to play house with lara. perfect and confident lara, who lights up as soon as she spots you coming back downstairs, handing you back the drink she had so dutifully been watching over.

“watch watch watch,” lara pulls you in, motioning over to the corner. “i think the baby is trying to make a move.”

you see your favorite awkward ginger and a cute little sorority girl in the corner of the room, trying to speak over the pounding loud music. you instantly recognize the body language between the two of them.

“uh, wrong. that girl is trying to make a move, and megan is in fight or flight.” you laugh, taking a sip from your drink. “except she’s doing neither, and instead she’s freezing.”

“okay, whatever, no more national geographic. let’s go get drunk,” lara grins devilishly, snaking an arm around your waist before she pulls you over towards a circle where daniela is holding some frat boy friend of hers hostage and getting him to drive the boat as she screams in laughter.

you’re still worried about baby megan though, until you see the familiar figure of her tutor slipping out the door, the ginger following soon after. you give them a few moments but they don’t come back in together. either megan will have a lot to share tomorrow morning, or you’ll have a lot for lara to ask about.

daniela comes around to everyone in the circle, pouring shots out into each of their mouths from the bottle of hennessy she’s got gripped. you laugh at the antics of the team captain. lara pulls you closer and you’re transfixed by the smell of her perfume, the softness of her hair on your bare shoulders as she anchors you close to her to dance.

you don’t mind getting lost in her, maybe this once.

you’re not sure how much time has passed of you two dancing, locked in your own little world, before dani is pouring shots out again, clearly trying to get rid of whatever of the bottle is left.

“where’s the baby?” dani asks as she gets to lara, pouring the shot and assessing the room around her.

“i saw her going outside like a half hour ago. hasn’t come back,” you inform her.

lara swallows down the shot and makes quick work of pulling out her phone, never once letting go of your waist. “it looks like she’s walking back from campus.”

you do the math. 20 minute walk to campus, she left 30 mins ago and is already heading back to you guys. 10 minutes with tutor girl? maybe you won’t ask her about what she got up to tonight or why she was gone. you guys chat a little longer before the ginger in question pops back in through the door, making her way to you guys with a frazzled expression.

“hi puppy dog,” lara welcomes her back, teasing grin on her face. “how was it?”

megan shakes her head, clearly disoriented. “i don’t even know any more.”

“i know how to fix it,” daniela reassures her, before dragging out a table in the middle of the circle you guys are in and dragging a few randoms to surround it. she lifts up the empty hennessy bottle before placing it on it’s side flat on the table. she cheers, stealing a cup from the girl next to her and downing its contents in one easy go. “spin that fuckin’ bottle, baby!”

lara laughs and holds her cup up to yours. your buzz has already set in, and you want to be coherent to get you all home that night, but one quick knock back won’t kill you. you grimace as you tap cups with her but swallow it down. daniela grins and cheers’ against megan’s forehead (much to the younger girl’s displeasure) before screaming loudly about how the game is about to start.

lara is laughing along with you at dani’s antics. “she gives the hockey players such a bad fucking rep.”

for a split second, you second guess not inviting daniela to the wedding– if all went south, dani would know exactly how to create an incredible distraction as you ran away.

but instead, you have to be brave and face it head on.

with lara, you remember, and your chest loosens at the thought. you’re grateful it gets to be with her at your side.

“hanni pham, meet baby megs,” daniela beams, and you realize the bottle is pointing directly at your adopted ginger daughter. lara can’t stop laughing, and you get it– megan looks like she’s about to shit herself.

hanni, a cheerleader who you met in your communications class, seems to love the hollering of the circle as she struts over and plants a quick peck on the corner of megan’s mouth. dani is screaming at the top of her lungs for her to do more, but megan’s strong hands keep a polite placement on her shoulders to distance the two of them.

“thank you, um for that, but i’m good for the night,” the ginger wrinkles her nose sheepishly. “gonna go wait in the car.”

“another boundary,” lara emphasizes, turning to you, and the both of you laugh.

“our baby girl is so, so grown up,” you fake-cry, slipping a hand into the furthest pocket of her jacket. she pulls you in closer and the two of you realize each time you say something to each other, you miss what happens in the outside world. how beautiful to get to disappear away from it all with just a look.

the group is staring expectantly at you as you realize daniela’s on the couch, the swedish exchange student from your calculus class perched comfortably on her lap, the two of them oblivious to the world through their frenzied make out. you were next in line, thus it now being your turn.

you comply nervously, terrified to get paired with some gross stranger, but lara, perfect, confident lara, off one too many shots, reaches down to stop it with her thumb, causing it to land on her. you hear some groans, but a majority of the people in the group cheer you on, chanting your name as lara turns to face you, not once letting go of her grip on you.

your throat goes dry at the look she gives you. her dark eyes twinkling, her beautiful rich skin, shining from the heat of the party and the alcohol running through both of your veins.

“come here baby,” she beckons, smiling widely at you, bringing the hand not on your waist up to your neck. your skin tingles at the contact. “been wanting to kiss you all night, you’re so pretty.”

you have two choices: push back and make an excuse, or commit. and with all the bravery in the world, the bravery that perfect lara raj gives you, you’re able to push past the what-if’s and let yourself crash into her.

the kiss, tasting softly of lara’s gum and the drinks you’ve shared, is electrifying. you’ve never once allowed yourself to wander that far into imagining what kissing lara would be like, and you’re almost grateful. nothing could compare to how perfect kissing perfect, incredible lara raj would be. she’s confident and assertive, letting her tongue brush against your lower lip, your mind going absolutely blank as she tightens her grip on your waist.

“how was that?” she asks with a grin, and the rest of the world is lost to you guys once more.

“how do you think it was?” you ask back breathlessly, unable to form words beyond that.

“perfect,” she whispers, the smile she has threatening to split her mouth.

“okay,” you breathe. you can still feel the tingle of her lips on yours.

you don’t mention it once the hour is late and megan is dragging a half-slumped daniela into the car with you guys while lara offers a ride to meg’s crush’s little roommates. you don’t say a word about it as lara drops belle and minji off, then presses a kiss to your temple when she drops you and megan off at your building, insisting she can keep daniela in her room to keep an eye on her. you fall back into your bed after a quick shower, the feeling still lingering.

the end is near, and you know it. you decide you won’t think about it, and fall asleep.

you wake up to a knock on the door. you rise with a slight headache, letting out a quiet groan, before you peek out the peephole and recognize a flash of bright orange hair.

“can you help me?” megan asks fervently as you let her in. she holds up various materials: paper, pens, an envelope, and a bright red ticket. “i want to make something for someone, but i feel so fucking lost as to where to start.”

“you want to invite her to the game tonight?” you ask, connecting the dots.

“yes,” her eyes light up. “i’m giving her my spare ticket. front row, so she can see us.”

“the one you think you’re in love with?” you smile, loving the enthusiasm.

“i think i want to say something, or at least try.” megan nods, confidently for the first time since you’ve known her, and drops her voice into a sigh. “you don’t know how special it is to feel seen for yourself.”

“oh, i do,” you breathe, memories of the past two weeks taking over your head. you rub a reassuring circle into her back as she parks herself at your desk. you head over to the bathroom to take down your hair and start your morning routine. “say what you feel. i’ll stay with you if you’re nervous.”

“your sister’s wedding is tomorrow, right?” megan clarifies, looking up from the desk. “what happens after that? between you and lar.”

you feel a pang in your stomach. 24 hours left in your little charade, and now, you don’t know how to untangle everything you’ve intertwined with her. you feel your smile threaten to fall, but you try to put on a brave front for the concerned younger girl. “don’t worry about that. focus on you.”

“i don’t think you should end it so fast,” she responds, her eyes softening. you hate the way her puppy dog eyes pierce straight into your heart. “you guys have something really amazing there.”

“it’s not real,” you remind her.

“looks pretty real to me,” she tells you back simply, and it lingers with you. you shake it off and approach her to start braiding her hair for the game.

lara has to do follow-up interviews with dani and the team following their championship win, and she promises to make it on the first flight out to your hometown. you’re kind of grateful she misses the rehearsal dinner, since manon does nothing but gush about how beautifully in love you and lara is and how she’s certain you guys will be doing this in no time. jordan, suspicious of you until manon opens her mouth, simply presses a kiss into your temple.

“happy you’re happy, sis. maybe the quiet ones do win every once in a while.”

lara stays at a hotel instead of with you and your parents in order to give you guys somewhere to drop the act. you find it increasingly difficult to remember what it used to be like before the touches, before the embraces, before falling asleep together every night.

she looks so beautiful in her incredible dress and your dad can’t stop gushing over what a peach she is. your step-mom, who never approves of anything you do, doesn’t look completely unimpressed by the gorgeous date you’re seated with. you’ll take it as a win.

the ceremony goes off without a hitch, and you make it to the reception dinner in one piece. halfway through the night without incident is a huge win. and lara, perfect, charming lara, is making friends with every person she introduces herself to, a cheeky compliment for every aunt of yours in their sunday best or every cousin asking suspiciously if you’re actually together. she finds the perfect balance of affection, not too much to be overdoing it, but just enough to keep you feeling calmed throughout the night.

“you play hockey with y/n?” your stepmom asks as she and your dad join you at the table with lara and manon as you all eat. you bite back a groan, considering you’ve explained a million times that you don’t play, just help treat the players.

“i play goalie, yes,” lara smiles good-naturedly. “y/n basically is there to patch us up after every game. contact sports can take quite the toll on the body.”

“what do you want to do with hockey?” your dad asks curiously. you can see your sister and your new brother-in-law dancing like idiots behind him on the dancefloor and let out a content sigh. somehow, lara is carrying herself without a single bit of help needed, and it soothes your anxious nerves.

“reminisce about it fondly when i’m old and grey,” lara laughs. “i just finished this sophomore season, so i’ve got two more seasons playing collegiate, and that’s it for me and hockey. after i graduate, i’m going to do a fellowship with a clinic.”

“physical therapy, like y/n?” manon asks curiously.

“marriage and family therapy. i want to be a therapist. i would love to work with student athletes.”

“no way,” you breathe quietly. how has lara never mentioned this? she had started school as a business major.

“my friends have a hard time balancing school and sports and some of them are really hurting over it. i’ve always been lucky enough to have good grades.”

“nobody should ever have to pick something they love over their wellbeing,” your step-mom says to no-one in particular, and you swear there’s something like approval in her eyes.

“lara is an extremely nurturing person,” you tell your dad in particular. “i think she’ll make a huge impact in whatever she does.”

“well, miss raj, i hope y/n doesn’t hide you away from us any more. i’d love to see you around more often,” he smiles, and you two exchange a glance.

“that’s up to y/n, isn’t it?” she asks, something twinkling in her eyes.

“i’m certainly thinking about it,” you smile back. the night is won.

you come back with her to her hotel room so you can celebrate the victory in peace, without worrying about your family overhearing.

“did i kill it, or did i destroy it?” she beams excitedly, kicking her heels off as she swipes one of the shots from the minibar in the fridge. “that went so fucking smooth.”

“you were perfect.” you could cry. perfect, angelic lara raj, making the impossible happen. a weight is lifted off your shoulders.

“i told you parents really like me,” she beams brightly, swooping you up in both arms to snake her arms around your waist and pull you in to a hug.

“everyone really likes you,” you laugh, pushing her back, but her arms stay locked around you. you could push again, but you don’t want to.

she’s never held you like this, behind closed doors. you don’t know what possesses you to let her. memories of your kiss from spin the bottle race through your mind. you feel your mouth go dry as you realize what your body is seeking– it wants to kiss her again.

“all that matters is what you think about me,” she tells you.

you simply hum in response, feeling her hands trace lower on your hips.

“hey, y/n,” she whispers into your ear, the warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “remember how when this all started, you wanted me to tell you if things ever got too blurry?”

you nod, your words caught in your throat. you barely manage to get anything out. “it’s over now, don’t worry.”

“that’s the issue. it’s supposed to be over, but…” she trails off, her fingers tracing circles into your back. she looks away, but you feel a sudden wave of bravery take over you, and you reach around her neck to trace gentle lines into her nape. her eyes come back to you, dark and hooded.

“tell me,” you press gently, and the room feels like it might collapse in on you both.

“lines are a little blurry,” lara breathes,

“i think i’m okay with that, if you are,” you whisper back.

“you already know what i think,” lara says, almost as an accusation. but then she’s reaching for the zipper on the back of your dress, eyes flickering to you as if to ask for permission.

you push past your own thoughts and let yourself capture her lips with your own, an answer to her question. you won’t overthink it, not this time.

you wake to an empty bed, the smell of lara’s skin still lingering on the sheets. you inhale deeply as you try to hear for the shower in the bathroom, maybe her voice if she’s in the hallway on the phone. but as you hear nothing, you sit up, and realize lara’s belongings are all completely gone. she left without letting you know? after all that? you can’t wrap your head around a viable explanation, so you reach for your phone. among the texts from your friends and family, you see lara’s contact, a text from 30 minutes ago.

changed my flight. i added late check out so don’t worry about overstaying. we can talk when you’re back on campus. be safe.

you see the next notification.

6 missed calls.

all from felix.

you feel your heart sink. lara has always been a light sleeper, first to rise at the slightest noise. you can only imagine what she must’ve felt seeing his contact pop up over and over, so insistently, as if he’s even entitled to your attention any more. your heart aches at the thought of lara’s confusion.

(that’s not to even touch on your own confusion– where does all this leave the two of you?)

you call her immediately.

“lara,” you say, and it’s like a warning and a question all in one. “i haven’t talked to him since the breakup. i don’t know what he wants, and i don’t care.”

the line is silent for a moment, and you’re caught off guard. you can hear the airport PA system from behind her, but you’re more surprised at how quiet she is. lara, confident and forward, always has something thoughtful and ready to say, forever the model of composure. she finally lets something out, and you feel your heart break all over again.

“i know you, y/n, and i wasn’t ready to hear you tell me it was over.” she confesses, and her voice sounds so, so painful over the phone. you wish you could wrap her in your arms then and there. “i got lost in it, i know i did, maybe it was selfish because you just got out of something serious, and i wanted you to myself.”

“lar, i’m sorry. what are you thinking right now?” you ask, but you quickly realize it’s the wrong question. her tone changes quickly, faster now, almost insistent.

“no, y/n, please stop. you do this thing, where you won’t give a clear answer. you’ll just ask questions and put all the options out on the table and let people draw their own conclusions.”

“here’s my clear answer,” lara continues. “you are my favorite person on this planet, and i’m so serious about that. so i want to hear it from your mouth. i want to hear what you pick, no bullshit, no yielding to let me make the final choice. with a super clear head, i want you to pick me, or not pick me, knowing all the facts and hearing me say it first. you need to have the final say in something for your life.”

you’re in complete shock, staring into the mirror as she presses forward, her voice firm over the hum of the phone.

“i won’t hate you, if you don’t pick me,” she tells you, voice softening, always the reassuring one. “but i wanted to make sure you knew that i’d pick you if it came down to it, and i’ll be waiting patiently for you to pick me. just how i always have.”

“lar…”

“think about it,” is all she says, before the line goes dead, and you’re left alone with your thoughts.

the airport makes you sick to your stomach and all you want to do is just talk to lara, but you know she deserves more thought than just your anxious impulse. a clear head, and no hesitation. you owe it to lara.

a day of traveling later, and you’ve dragged your bags with you to the hockey rink. megan, yunjin, and dani are all there, taking practice shots into the net even though the season won’t start up again until the fall time.

you see lara’s gear on the bench, but she’s nowhere on the ice to be seen. you hunt a little further to see her in the very top nosebleed seats of the stadium, watching the three practice intensely. you don’t hesitate before racing up the seats, and your stomach drops as she locks eyes on you. her eyes are distant, cold even, but you can’t blame her. she deserves answers.

“i need to tell you something,” you press, sitting down in the seat next to her.

she lets out a quiet breath and turns to face you. you reach out, holding her face in your hands, and your heart aches. she is so impossibly perfect. the truth, as much as it terrifies you, is the least she deserves.

“that night, our kiss, the past two weeks, it meant everything to me,” you admit, your voice shaky. “maybe i’m worried that i’ll lose you as a friend, if we take this leap, but we tried on these hats and it was honestly the most perfect experience ever. and you are so, so perfect, it would be impossible to not want to be with you, and i’m sorry i was such a coward about what i asked of you without acknowledging what it meant for us. it was unfair and it was confusing.”

her eyes warm, but you drop your hands. you have something more to add, the part she truly does deserve, and the part you’ve been too afraid to confront. you continue, your heart threatening to leap out of your chest.

“i need to choose myself, for just a little bit. i’m not going to ask if that’s okay, because i know you’d tell me it is even if it isn’t,” you tell her, and she laughs quietly in response. you take it as the encouragement you need to keep going. “i'm going to be alone for a little bit, i won’t go back to my ex, i won’t find someone new, i just need to be alone to figure some things out, and i’m going to tell you to go do your thing and not wait up for me. if we can be friends through it, that would be amazing, but if not, i won’t hate you either.”

you drop your head slightly to meet her gaze. she’s looking up at you with something in between heartache and pride, and you know exactly how she feels. there’s something painfully bittersweet about the moment.

“i need just a little time to learn how to be a better me, and then it’ll be my turn to come ask you to pick me,” you whisper, tracing your finger across her lips, your favorite lips, before resting your hand on her cheek once more. “and i’ll be okay if you don’t pick me, or if by then you’ve picked someone else.”

“i’m proud of you for this,” she says simply, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into a hug.

you feel hot tears pricking at your eyes, but you manage to smile at her anyways. the end of one chapter, the start of another, you can only hope.

your dad has asked about lara every single time you call for the past few months, and you simply navigate around the question with expert precision. you can’t tell him everything, but you can tell him parts of the truth.

we get to see each other every day. we’re still the team moms. daniela still conspires to make us get married. we’re going to see each other over the summer once the semester ends.

you won’t tell him about how your sleepovers have stopped, and you guys haven’t been alone together in a room since the day after the wedding. she’s still so, so nice to you, but there’s a boundary now.

it’s not awkward, as much as you know things could have ended in disaster. perfect, generous lara raj, who’s always put your friendship ahead of whatever feelings have come up for her, doesn’t flirt with you any more, but still makes an effort to make you feel seen.

manon, who you got so close to that she moved in as your dorm roommate, is shockingly understanding as you come clean and tell her everything. nobody makes the dissolution of your fake relationship weird, and your family is none the wiser. you come out relatively unscathed from the whole thing, the only casualty being you and lara. your friendship is different, you guys aren’t as close, but that’s okay, because she’s still in your life, and that in itself is more than enough.

except for tonight, two weeks before finals, where you decide it’s the night to put into practice all the growing you’ve done to stop being so scared of the what-if’s. it’s your turn to be confident and brave, and let the potential win outweigh the risks.

you feel your stomach lurch as you call her, the starting part of your plan. you guys don’t do this any more, the late night phone calls, so you’re half expecting to have to pivot to a plan b, but she answers by the second ring.

“y/n,” she says simply, and you feel your stomach flip at how genuinely excited she sounds. what an angel.

“hi,” you breathe. “um, just curious about your plans tonight.”

“what’s up?” she asks, half-curious, half-suspicious in her tone.

“are you free?” you ask again.

“for you?” she asks, and you half-expect her to turn you down then and there. but she doesn’t and her soft tone makes your heart thud. “always.”

“no, don’t start,” you wrinkle your nose. “i’m supposed to be the one trying to charm you.”

“charm me? why?” she asks, and you can practically hear the smirk on her lips. ugh, it was almost easier when you guys were back to being just friends. you wouldn’t get this flustered this easily.

“i want to see you when i say it.” you shake your head, feeling the familiar flush that lara leaves you with. “damn, you’re throwing me off. ugh, lara, okay just, come to your car.”

“my car?”

“i have your keys, before you freak out. dani helped me. so just come to the car and be patient.”

you hang up, and you wait eagerly. grand gestures aren’t your thing, but they’re lara’s, so you figure she deserves something that reflects how well you know her.

she arrives, and you can’t suppress your smile as she takes it all in. her car, filled to the brim with pink balloons, three different bouquets of flowers in the passenger’s seat. you’ve decorated it with pictures of the two of you from your years of friendship, including countless of candids taken by the girls of the two of you together. on the dashboard, you have a giant, handwritten sign with pictures of lara’s face, and in big bold letters: #17, GO OUT WITH ME?

her eyes are wide, and you wonder if you’ve maybe gone too far with everything. in the months since the wedding, you guys have stayed friends, sure, but maybe you misread her? maybe this wasn’t the grand gesture you thought it would be?

“y/n…” lara starts, before offering you an apologetic furrow of her brows. “i have a girlfriend.”

you feel your stomach sink. you’ve deleted your instagram since all this happened, and you and lara don’t talk about those kinds of things any more, plus megan was so heartbroken about you guys not ending up together, it’s super possible she didn’t want to mention the new relationship to you. plus plus, daniela’s terrible with secrets, so why would she help you with this whole thing in the first place, but she can absolutely show up when she needs to– damn. your shot disappears in front of your very eyes.

“oh my god, lar, i’m so sorry. i um–” you stammer.

she’s staring at you with those dark eyes, before a stupid grin takes over her stern features. “hah! see, told you you should have jumped on me sooner.”

you feel your eyes nearly bug out of your head. oh my god.

“what do you think i’m going to say to you right now?” you nearly growl, your heart still pounding at the near miss.

lara screams laughing, nearly doubling over as she pokes a finger into your cheek. your skin jumps at the contact. “hopefully you’ll say, kiss me and be mine, no more waiting.”

you sigh and take her face in both hands, emboldened by your new outlook on life. no more being afraid.

“lara raj, i’m sorry for making you wait. thank you for being so, so perfect, and letting me be ready for you. i’d like to love you for a really long time, if that’s–” you pause, realizing you were about to ask for her permission.

you clear your throat and look her directly in the eyes. “you better let me love you until the earth blows up.”

“i like that so much better than what i thought you’d up with,” she beams brightly, opening the door to he car and sitting in the drivers seat, motioning for you to come towards her.

“i bet you do,” you laugh, letting her pull you into her lap.

“told you we’d fall in love eventually,” she grins cheekily.

you sigh and press a fingertip against her nose. “actually, i was in love with you way before all this. just needed to figure some things out.”

for the first time since you’ve known her, lara raj is speechless.

“got your fine ass,” you grin, before you lean in. “now that you’ve shut up, i’m going to kiss you.”

“you were so, so worth the wait,” she whispers, and you let yourself believe her. the girl of your dreams, perfect and confident lara raj, and she’s finally yours.

255 notes · View notes

reiiaokii · 2 months ago

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just read your megan fic, and OH MY GOD. i was actually so invested i was more locked in than ever reading it, genuinely one of the best pieces ive ever read not just for katseye, but in general

wahhhhh PLEASE 😭 it was truly just brainrotted fluff but thank you so much... i had so much fun w it and knowing people enjoyed it means the world to me! tysm for sharing i hope i can pop out some more fun little things soon

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reiiaokii · 2 months ago

Text

I NEED MORE BF MEGANNNNNN

┈─★ 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ( 𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 — 𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙤. )

⊹ ࣪ ˖ your professor contacts you to ask if you’d be willing to share your notes with a classmate that has requested a bit of help. you’re more than happy to help, until resident hockey star megan skeindiel is hitting you up every week, expectantly waiting for you to hand them over...

ˎˊ˗ ❄️ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🔓୭˚. ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

➴ pairing: hockey player! megan skiendiel x english major!f!reader

➴ genre + wc: 10k, college au! one-sided enemies to friends, friends to lovers, dorky hockey jock megan, mostly fluff tbh

➴ you might want to tune in...: ditto - njz

┈─★ a/n: wigline was giving boyfriend in that livestream and i was trying to decide what sport before i was struck w the idea of megan and her beanie bros as wanna-be-frat-boy hockey stars. planning on making this part of a larger universe, goalie!lara and captain!dani coming next. enjoy!

eng121: intro to british literature. meets tuesday and thursday from 11:00 to 12:15.

you’re always a few minutes early, an easy walk considering your world history lecture is just upstairs. you’ve always been punctual, thus why you’re first to class every time. it’s definitely not so you can get a front row seat in the lecture hall to make a good impression on your favorite professor teaching your favorite subject.

the lecture hall starts to slowly trickle in. you don’t know anyone in this class, which is okay– you’re there to focus anyways, and given that your grade is an impeccable 98% by the end of week 5, you figure you’re doing something right. of course, minji and belle would say you’re doing way too much, every late night study session you pick instead of joining them for another party celebrating the hockey team–

your mind trails to thoughts of that damn women’s hockey team. they’re loud, they’re arrogant, and worst of all, they’re everywhere.

you hope they’re gone on an away game today. it’s so much easier to focus when they’re not there.

but unfortunately, you’re not that lucky. the idiots come bursting in through the door. a curly haired blonde, a grinning brunette with red tips, and the tallest of the three, a button-nosed ginger. each wearing the team’s signature letterman jacket. you hate the sight of that damn letterman jacket.

they’re rough housing with each other, pushing and shoving, until eventually, one of them crashes into your desk, sending your bookbag and its contents flying. you feel your teeth grit together— any closer and it would have been your coffee all over your brand new laptop.

“sorry, sorry,” the blonde screech-laughs, scrambling to catch herself before she tumbles. you spot the hickeys shamelessly scattered on her neck. you wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if she had showed up half drunk to class.

“bro, pick them up for her at least,” the red-haired one laughs.

“i got it,” you say through gritted teeth. you want to say as little as possible to these idiots.

but it’s the tall one who is kneeling down with you, scooping up your pens in her hands, offering them to you all while avoiding your gaze. “uh, sorry ‘bout that.”

“it’s fine.”

“cool miffy eraser.”

“thanks.”

is she expecting you to thank her? for picking up four pens and an eraser that her friend dropped?

your professor clears his throat once the teaching assistant arrives, signaling the start of class. the three stooges share a look between themselves before hurrying up the steps of the lecture hall, making their way up to a back row where you’re certain they’re planning to just good off and distract everyone for the rest of class.

you sigh as you return to your seat and focus on the words in front of you on your laptop. you hate hockey.

“hi y/n,” sophia, the delightfully nice upperclassman TA of your course approaches you as class ends. “got a minute?”

you nod, packing up your backpack. sophia has taught a few lessons in the course, her powerpoints engaging and meticulous, and you can’t help but admire how perfectly she navigates the content. talk about goals.

“the university resource center reached out to us and said a student is requesting accommodations. a note-taker is all they’re asking for. that means we can find someone in class to assign to take notes for the student.”

“me?” your eyebrows arch as your realize what she’s asking.

“i’ve been grading your class’ discussion posts. you very clearly love british literature.” she smiles, and you feel your neck burn at the compliment. “it’s a decent pay, and you can just offer whatever notes you’re already taking. we just need to let the student know by friday. let me know?”

minji gives you the push you need when you get home to your dorm later that day and explain your situation to your roommates.

“you’re already taking the notes. might as well get your bag,” she shrugs from her bed where she’s playing animal crossing.

belle nods in agreement. “plus, you love being helpful. our bleeding heart.”

you roll your eyes and shoot an email to sophia, receiving a smiley face as her reply just a few minutes later.

you printed out your notes up to that point in the quarter to have them ready for thursday’s lecture. sophia said she’ll introduce the two of you at the end of class, all you have to do is hang back. you ruffle through your backpack once class ends, tucking your laptop away as the last of your classmates begin to trickle out the door.

your professor waves to you as he leaves, and you happily get up from your seat to approach sophia.

at least– until you’re cut off by someone clumsily stepping in front of you, in a flash of ginger hair.

your heart drops. no way in hell.

“hi.” she says simply, face unreadable. today, her and the three stooges kept showing tik toks to each other in the middle of lecture, at least three accidentally blasting at full volume. you want to tell her the hell off for always disrupting your favorite class, but sophia’s eyes are eagerly on you, and you want to impress your new mentor.

“hi,” you manage to get out behind gritted teeth.

this girl is way too overdressed for an 11am english lit course. white button up shirt, a messily knotted tie, dickies and that stupid letterman jacket with the leather sleeves. the beanie she usually sports is nowhere to be found, letting you get a better look at her features.

not that you particularly care to look at her. she’s not even giving you the decency to look you in the eyes, instead, just fixing her glance at your hand and pointing.

“i need that,” she finally says after an awkward pause. she points again. “uh, those.”

“you?” you’re still in disbelief. you’re going to spend every thursday after class giving your beautiful, pristine notes to this entitled fuckboy jock?

“unless uh, if you’re not y/n y/ln, and those aren’t for me,” she adds, peeking down at her phone to confirm the details.

“i typed today’s lecture.” you feel a scream bubbling in your chest, but you manage to suppress it. “let me send them to you. let me give you my email.”

“ah, cool.” she hands you her phone, already opened to her student email account. you glance at the cinamoroll phone case, when she finally catches you off guard, adding a quick “thank you.”

“no problem.” well, yes problem, but maybe it’s more of an ego thing. at least she finally said thank you.

“if you could send, uh, all of them. that’d be easier.” the athlete scratches awkwardly at the back of her head. you’re a bit irritated that you wasted all that paper trying to print them and be polite, but whatever. bleeding heart or whatever belle said, you figure you can’t exactly be choosy about your good deeds if you want the karma.

“and we have an away game next week, so i’ll be missing class on tuesday. if you can email me then too…”

“got it.” when did you sign up to be a freaking personal assistant?

“thank you.” she dips her head down, lips pressing together into a fine line. “i’m megan.”

“bye megan,” you wave, before snatching up your backpack and getting the hell out of there.

you’re left in peace next week as the three stooges aren’t there on tuesday.

thursday rolls around, and megan is waiting for you in the hallway by the door again, leaning against the wall. you’re starting to feel extremely irritated by the whole situation. she didn’t even reply to your emails from last week or this week to say thank you for the notes you emailed. at the very least, she could let you know that she got them, right?

“you can just email them, all of them, in the future. save the paper,” she tells you as you hand her your annotated paper copy of that week’s powerpoint. you squint at her and walk off without a word.

the one good thing that comes out of this arrangement is that sophia invites you to get coffee with her after class, and your mentor becomes one of your favorite friends in the span of a week.

“i didn’t know you got accommodations for being a jock that misses half a semester’s worth of class,” you say irritatedly as you pick your order up off the counter.

sophia laughs. “i’m so sorry… they don’t tell me why they need the notes, just that they’re approved for them.”

“ugh, i’d kill for someone to give me all their notes,” minji, who tagged along, complains. “stupid hockey players get everything handed to them.”

“do you think that’s really it though? like they get free access to a notewriter because they miss so much class? and the university obviously wants to keep making money off of them,” you speculate. “holy shit. that’s so unfair.”

“i don’t know anything about how the student athlete system works,” sophia wrinkles her nose.

you’ve already made up your mind. come this thursday, you’re putting your foot down.

thursday’s class comes. megan’s stupid blonde friend does actually spill your coffee this time. now, you’re not only pissed with megan, but pissed with everything that surrounds her. her friends leave the lecture hall with the taller girl trailing behind them, but you grab her by the sleeve to stop her. she’s dressed normally today: beanie, hoodie, sweats, and that stupid jacket on top of it all.

“y/n,” she greets, almost cheerfully. “you don’t have to keep waiting for me, the emails are fine-”

“i don’t think you deserve my notes any more,” you cut her off. you’re waiting for it, the entitlement, the meltdown, whatever it is that shitty people who take advantage of you do, but it never comes.

megan simply wrinkles her nose and shrugs, scratching awkwardly at her forehead.

“well, i’m dyslexic, so there’s that.”

“oh my god.” that’s why she got the accommodation approved. not because she’s a jock. you’re swept over by a wave of instant regret. you pray to god you’ll live this down. “i am so sorry.”

“your notes are also really, really helpful.” megan holds up the paper she had been hiding in her hand. a bright red 72 is circled on the quiz.

“a C?”

“technically a C minus,” she corrects you playfully. “and it’s the best i’ve done on one of these stupid quizzes since the semester started.”

you feel your nose burn with embarrassment. “i’m sorry.”

“i’d be annoyed too if someone took advantage from all my hard work.” she offers a tilt of her head. “i promise i’ll be more grateful.”

“no, you don’t have to do that.” you’re still reeling from megan’s quiet confession. “i was being neurotic.”

“here, ah, put your number in,” she hands you her silly cinnamoroll phone case. “i’ll send you a QR code, you can scan it for free drinks at the cafe. student athlete discount.”

“i’m sorry again,” you grimace.

she shakes her head. the smile playing on her lips stirs something in the pit of your stomach.

“it’s no worries. i’ll see you next week.”

two weeks after your whole expose on megan, you two have fallen into a cordial rhythm of nodding to each other at the end of every class. you appreciate that she acknowledges you now.

however, this does not diminish your burning hatred for the hockey team as a whole.

you’re in the middle of impressing your professor, explaining the contrast between romanticism and modern cynicism, bringing in points you had connected from your intro to philosophy class.

but it’s hard to finish the thoughts when the three stooges are causing a ruckus from their corner of the room. you see lara smack dani in the shoulder, the two struggling to catch their breaths in between silent laughs. megan, stuck in the middle of them, looks clearly distressed.

your eyes meet, and you swear there’s something apologetic in the way she looks at you.

your professor is equally as unpleased as you are, glaring at the trio as you finish your thoughts.

“miss skiendiel? any thoughts?”

you can’t help but feel bad. if anything, megan was the least guilty of the three. it was the other two that were giggling like little stupid frat boys.

“uh yeah,” megan leans back in her chair, clearing her throat. she’s quiet for a few moments before she simply shrugs and scratches at her nose. “ditto, y/ln.”

dani bursts out into laugher and a few other snickers are heard throughout the lecture hall. you grit your teeth. is she too cool to care? you had started to let yourself think that maybe she was more than a mindless jock just coasting through classes so she could focus on playing. but every chance she gets, megan just feeds the fire.

she tries to nod at you after class, but you’re not having it. it surprises you when she steps into your way, ducking her head down to meet your gaze. you curse silently at how much taller she is than you.

“hey,” she chirps.

“what do you want?”

“i’m sorry about them. they’re—“ she pauses, processing your tone. “hold up, are you annoyed with me?”

“i shouldn’t be?” you snap.

“why would you? i was trying to tell them to shut up.”

“and then you opened your mouth, and it was like you couldn’t be bothered. you act like you’re above it all.”

she’s staring at you in disbelief, that stupid beanie obstructing her brows but you can see the confusion in her eyes. those big round puppy dog eyes widen.

“that? y/n, you think my dumb ass is gonna be able to come up with something on the spot right after you just sounded so smart? much less in front of everyone?”

“you’re always so over it.” you roll your eyes, reaching down to grab your backpack. “care at least a little.”

“y/n, listen to me.” megan holds her hand out to stop you and her voice drops, but it’s not threatening. it’s almost… shy? “y/n, you scare the fucking shit out of me. that’s why i’m so quiet. i’m trying to think of what to say.”

you blink back in confusion. “i’m not scary.”

“you’re like a super genius.” the athlete gives you a pleading look. “my brain feels like i dropped it in the toilet and soaked it in rice.”

you laugh at her comparison. she grins and you figure you can forgive her, at least this time.

“that’s dramatic.”

“i’m hopeless. your notes are the only thing keeping me holding on.”

you feel an ache in your chest. megan isn’t all that bad— just a girl desperate to make progress even if she’s sinking.

“are you busy tonight? i can come help you study,” you offer, and you can already hear belle clowning you for your charity work.

her grin widens, exposing the whites of her extremely nice teeth. you feel yourself soften, even if just for a moment.

“you’d be saving my life. i’ll text you my dorm after practice.”

“don’t stand me up,” you warn. you wonder if it went to your head, hearing megan admit you intimidate her.

but then her lips curl into a playful smile, nodding as she strides backwards out of the classroom. “yeah, ditto, y/n. i better see you then.”

you’re in her building as soon as she texts you that she’s out just a few hours later. you double check the number on the door and feel your heart pound as her neighbor walks out, eyeing you up and down before heading down the hall. ugh, you pray you don’t look desperate.

“megan?” you call out, knocking on the door. the door gives way, clearly not locked or even closed all the way, and you immediately spot the flash of bright orange hair. she’s hunched over in front of her bed, eyes fixed on the laptop with a set of headphones covering her ears. her hair is in two braids falling over her shoulders.

“y/n! sorry, these things are noise cancelling,” she apologizes, motioning for you to come join her. you step in, and she tries to turn the laptop away from you, which you flag as suspicious. “i got started without you.”

you lean over a little further and roll your eyes as you see what’s actually pulled up. it’s a hockey game.

“so much for studying time, skiendiel.”

“no, no,” she says hurriedly, pulling the headphones completely off her head. “i’m listening to your notes. look.”

she pulls up her phone and true to her word, she’s using speech to text to read the document out through her headphones.

your heart breaks at her brows furrowing together, those dark eyes pleading up at you. she’s just a fucking puppy.

“it’s the only way i can focus. i have to watch my games back to relax. i already did my workouts, ate, packed for tomorrow. it’s the only way i can fit everything in and not go crazy.”

“i can read them to you,” you offer.

“i can read,” megan wrinkles her nose. “i just waste more energy trying to figure it out than actually retaining anything.”

“i can read, and explain it to you,” you modify your initial suggestion, before you even realize what you’re doing. why are you so eager to help this girl? a month ago you were complete strangers, and she was the bane of your existence.

but there she is, the jock you hoped would never show up to class again, looking up at you with the most round brown eyes that keep rustling something in you. is it pity?

“you must think i’m so fucking stupid,” she grimaces, shaking her head.

“i think you’re willing to work hard,” you tell her gently. “that counts for a lot in my book, actually.”

she says nothing, flipping open her copy of the class textbook. but the look she gives you, warm and full of gratitude, says everything.

you two spend the next hour, criss crossed on her floor, papers and books strewn around you. your review is going better than you anticipated: she’s quiet, focused, and attentive to all the comparisons you draw.

“i hate this fuckass romantic period,” megan hisses as you finish your next reading of a lord byron piece. you noticed her brows furrowing halfway through as she tries to keep up. “so much poetry bullshit.”

“you’re good at poetry. it’s all metaphors for big feelings,” you encourage her, before a memory that comes to mind helps carry your point across. “the thing you said about your brain the other day was an amazing metaphor.”

“that? my brainrot? i speak like that ‘cause i can’t figure out how to say what i really want.”

you realize what it is, your question from earlier. it isn’t pity. megan is just a nervous, hard-on-herself girl, stuck in the expectations of others, a victim even to your unfair judgement. literature has always come easily to you– you can’t imagine how hard it must be for someone to be trying to navigate that at a disadvantage and still give it their all.

you put a finger on it. it’s not pity. it’s admiration.

“it paints a picture, perfectly,” you tell her, pushing back against what you realize is her constant cloud of self-doubt. she shakes her head, but the smile is there, telling you you’ve broken through to her. you press on, preparing the next passage to read out loud. “just imagine these old white dudes are trying to do the same.”

you don’t finish up until 10pm, when her roommate enters and seems genuinely surprised to see you both.

“hi marsh,” she greets.

“ah, i was wondering why our neighbor warned me that you had a girl over,” the accented girl greets, grinning cheekily. “they couldn’t possibly imagine you’d just be studying.”

you see megan’s face burn red. you laugh to cover up the flash of heat that takes to your neck from the speculation.

“they’re conspiring against me ‘cause i’m really not like that,” megan groans, standing up hurriedly. “you’re gonna make my tutor think i’m a piece of shit.”

“don’t let her fool you,” the brunette smiles warmly, pointing at megan. “heart of gold, this one.”

“ah okay, now that’s too much.” megan tries to bury her face in her shoulder awkwardly, handing you your shoes. “let me walk you out.”

belle texts you to remind you that she’s outside the dorm to pick up dinner with you, like you had agreed. megan walks you down, waving awkwardly to your roommate before turning to you with that same awkward wave.

“uh, bye. thank you again. made a lot of sense when you broke it down.”

“i’m happy to come by again soon, if it made a difference,” you smile.

“only if you were already planning to study by yourself. don’t go out of your way for me,” she tells you forcefully.

“i’m happy to,” you reassure her. “good night megan.”

maybe you catch her off guard by saying her name, but the way her eyes widen makes you laugh. there’s something charming about her undeniable awkwardness. she waves again, and watches carefully from the building doors as you stride up to belle, waiting for you on a nearby bench.

“that’s your charity project?” she questions, “your horrible hockey jock?”

“i might’ve been quick to judge,” you admit, looking over your shoulder. megan is still there, leaning against the doorframe, watching you guys walk off. “she’s not all bad.”

“not all bad? you made her seem irredeemable,” belle laughs, looping her arm in yours.

her only crime is liking hockey and being awkward. you sigh, and belle changes the subject, but you’re stuck thinking about it for the rest of the night. megan deserves a chance to show you who she is before you decide it for her.

and she does exactly that. megan, once she feels more comfortable, turns out to be a complete goofball. you’re laughing so hard at her stupid jokes one study session that you cough up red bull out of your nose and megan nearly passes out laughing with you. megan exposes that despite the hockey player stereotype, she is completely harmless. you watch her awkwardly let people cut her in line, or sip a drink made incorrectly when you get coffee together, all because she’s too nervous to speak up. megan is a mama’s girl and has nightly calls with her mom, sometimes interrupting your sessions, but she’s quick to mumble an ‘i love you too, mom,’ when she thinks you can’t hear her. and you learn that megan, more than anything, loves hockey.

megan is also insanely humble, and is used to hard work. you start to realize just how much the athlete has on her plate.

you guys are leaving class one day, trying to decide when your next study session should be, when she explains what a normal day looks like for her. conditioning, nutrition, physical therapy for an old back strain, at least a half hour every night of reviewing her game tapes to see how she could have played better. and that’s not even including the hour-and-a-half practices she attends every day. and in megan’s case, you realized, she shows up an hour early to get a head start. that’s not even to mention the travel time involved with away games.

no wonder she only hangs around those stupid jock friends of hers. with the exception of her roommate, it doesn’t seem like she’d have much time to make friends outside of that.

you’ll admit, however, that lara and daniela are slowly growing on you. dani lives in your dorm building, and lara is the only one with a car on campus, so megan will sometimes end up inviting them to come and study with you guys. lara, confident and forward, is extremely friendly and makes you feel at ease once you stop seeing her as some frat boy wanna-be. dani, a self-proclaimed attention whore that you discover also is extremely emotional, has a laugh so infectious it’s easy to see why her and lara are usually distracted in class.

and then megan, tagging along like their dorky little sibling, constantly begging them to stop drawing attention to themselves. you start to read her face, noticing when she’s dying of embarrassment from something they do.

you start to really know megan, and she lets herself be known, an open and honest response for every question you ask as your friendship deepens over the weeks.

“why do you come to class so dressed up sometimes?” you ask one night, trying to figure out how to help her pre-loop up her tie for the next day. you’re sick of seeing that crooked knot on her neck and offered to teach yourself on youtube to help her out.

“you’re supposed to dress formal on game days.” she explains. “like, to respect the sport or whatever.”

“i see,” you hum, trying to focus on remembering where the next loop goes through. you realize on the days megan is dressed up, you see a ton of people wearing their fan merch. you finally connect the dots. “i didn’t realize this many people liked hockey.”

“yeah, ‘cause you’re a giant nerd and don’t pay attention to sports. hockey is our biggest sport here.” megan teases. “half of our graduates go pro.”

“oh,” you blink. you’re becoming painfully aware of how close you two are, your fingers sliding behind her neck to tuck the tie behind her collar. “you must like the attention.”

“no. i like the game.” megan’s still awkward, but as your friendship has grown, she’s gotten better at correcting your incorrect assumptions. “the attention makes me lose focus.”

“do you wanna go pro?” you ask.

“yes,” megan says, and it’s quiet like a confession.

“i think you can do it.” you say it so confidently, but megan lets out a deep breath that tells you she’s doubted this. you hope she takes your faith in her to heart.

“i would say you should come see a game, but you wouldn’t know the difference if i played great or got my ass beat out there,” she laughs.

“i think you’re the hardest working person i know. you’ll make anything happen.”

“that’s really nice, y/n.” she watches as your fingers finish the final loop, pulling the knot into her collar snugly. “you’ve always been so down to believe in me.”

“promise you won’t forget about me when you make it big?” you grin teasingly. you smooth out her collar around her tie before feeling your neck burn at the proximity between you two. and yet, you don’t find yourself rushing to move away.

megan’s eyes draw to you with something in them, something gentle and different than before.

“of course,” she smiles, but there’s something more. you’re not brave enough to ask her about it.

your phone buzzes you awake. you don’t bother to reach for your glasses, simply seeing 1:29am is enough to irritate you. but then you see the contact photo, a goofy candid of megan with her beanie pulled down over her eyes, and you figure you can’t be that mad.

you slip into the hallway to not wake belle and minji before picking up.

“hi.”

“y/n?” her voice is raspy and so, so sweet. you wonder if she’s just as tired as you are. “what’s up, what do you need?”

“you called me, dumbass.” you laugh. “in the middle of the night, i might add.”

“oh shit, right right,” she says cooly.

you laugh again. megan’s humor is so, so stupid, and you have no clue how she can manage to make you laugh every single time.

“how’s the hotel?” you ask. it’s an away game against washington state.

“too stuffy, and we have a red-eye in like three hours.” she sighs. “daniela just got back from partying and woke me up.”

“at least she didn’t bring anyone back to the room this time,” you say.

“god, please do not remind me of that, y/n,” megan pleads, and you can picture the way she’d give you that panicked glare at the memory. you laugh at the way she told the story when it had first happened– rooming with dani for a game against oregon when the blonde made megan sleep in the bathroom so she could hook up with a sorority girl. megan described being traumatized by what she could hear through the door, and you nearly died of laughter.

“try to sleep. red-eyes can be brutal.”

“i’ll nap when i’m back home,” she reassures you. you’re already planning out what you’ll bring her for lunch as a celebration. you didn’t know much, but you knew that these semi-finals were no joke.

(you don’t mention minji clowning you for tracking the score of the game, and sophia giving you a questioning look when you screamed in the middle of the dining hall once megan’s team had won.)

“i’m literally whispering and dani says i’m making too much noise. i’ll kill her,” megan adds, and you can practically hear the eye-roll.

“you’re not killing anybody, you big dork,” you laugh. “you should go to sleep.”

“fine fine, bye hater.”

“good night, megan.”

“good night, y/n.”

you attempt to pay no mind to the flutter in your chest as you make your way back into your dorm, diving into your bed. before you close your eyes, a text from megan makes that flutter even harder to ignore.

wanted to hear your voice

yeah?

i get homesick on the road :/

aw you poor baby

thanks for picking up

sure jsyk u can call whenever, you big baby

ditto

“what are you doing tomorrow?” she asks you, after a session in your room where you’ve finished drilling the different dates of publications into her head with a stupid memorization song.

“i don’t have any plans besides–”

“besides reading books by boring dead dudes,” megan gripes. “some of the older girls are having a party to celebrate making it to the championships. you should come. you can bring your roommates. the house is so close, it’s like a 20 minute walk from the dorms.”

“i’ll think about it,” you smile.

“think about what?” belle’s voice rings out as she enters the room at the perfect time.

“just a small house party. i’ve never seen you out before, y/n,” megan says.

“y/n’s a homebody, but i’ll get her there. send me the details?” belle grins.

you groan as the two exchange numbers, seeming much too devious for your liking. but the night ends, the next day passes by, and you won’t give megan the satisfaction of letting her know how excited you are about this as your uber drops you and your roomies off far later in the night than you’d like to be awake.

minji squints as the music pounds from the house, barely containing the people that you see through each window. the three of you let yourselves in, immediately met by familiar faces.

“i thought you said small?” belle laughs as lara and daniela greet you with hugs.

“dani posted it to her public story instead of her private,” lara snorts. “half the university is here.”

“if my crime is to love being surrounded by beautiful women, fuckin’ arrest me,” dani defends herself, hands in the air.

“y/n.” megan’s voice rings out from behind you. your heart thuds as she stands there smiling, like a puppy wagging its tail. “you made it.”

“take this with me!” dani grins, handing you a cup of god knows what. you haven’t had enough experience to know your tolerance, but you figure you can start with one and go from there. the blonde cheers as the drink disappears down your throat, megan giving you a concerned yet amused look.

“you’ll die if you try to keep up with her,” she laughs. “she’s fucking crazy.”

“thanks for the tip,” you smile back. you see the cup in her hand. “should i keep up with you instead?”

“it’s gatorade,” she grins sheepishly. “i’m play to win, and i don’t like to take risks the week of such a big game. i try not to even let myself get upset. gotta focus, y’know.”

“well let’s pour one out for baby megs,” lara toasts, pouring from a bottle into everyone’s cups. “and y/n, who saved our girl from academic probation!”

“alright lar, not too much now,” megan wrinkles her nose.

you laugh, and her eyes meet yours, a smile behind their warmth. you’re surrounded by some of the most exciting people you’ve ever met, and yet all you want to do is find a quiet corner and talk to this dork. you feel your chest tense with a weight of something, but you shake your head before the thoughts can develop.

“gonna go get another drink,” you excuse yourself quickly. maybe you need something stronger, just for tonight.

you’re in the kitchen pouring yourself something random when the flash of ginger hair catches your attention from the other room. except, megan’s not alone, and there’s a girl standing a bit too close, touching something on megan’s forearm.

your mouth goes dry. you’d spent so long getting to know the side of megan the world doesn’t see, it hadn’t occurred to you that she could still have a bad side to her. is it even a bad side to be flirting with a cute girl at a college party? you swallow a lump in your throat and drink whatever you’ve put in your cup. of course she’s allowed to do what she wants, and that doesn’t make her a bad person.

you look up again, and megan leans down to whisper something in the girl’s ear. the girl laughs a little too hard, touching her arm again in the process. megan’s funny, but there’s no way she’s that funny, and plus, the only person who ever laughs that hard–

you pause. the only person that laughs that hard at her is you.

the shots you took are catching up to you. you race outside to the front yard to try and get some fresh air, accidentally shoving into a guy who’s lingering by the door.

“woah, slow down there,” he snaps.

“please don’t talk to me,” you reply quickly, head still spinning

“don’t come to my house and be rude as shit,” he growls in response. “i’ll stop talking to you when i want to stop talking to you.”

you try to diffuse it by walking away, but he grabs you by the arm to make you look at him. you feel hot tears spring from your eyes. an angry frat boy is the last thing you can handle right now.

“no smartass comebacks? c’mon, push back you little bitch.”

before you can even do anything, she’s there, like a knight in shining armor, the outside of her forearm crushing against his windpipe as she shoves him into the wall. the movement comes easily to megan, no doubt her 15 years of aggression on the ice. her eyes are wide, darker than you’ve ever seen them before.

she barely registers him before those brown eyes come to you. you feel your breath catch in your chest with the way she looks at you.

megan drops him in an instant, instead coming to chase you down.

“i couldn’t think of anything cool to say to scare him.” you realize she’s shaking, her voice quivering. she’s unnerved, but her presence is so so comforting, her rambles are somehow exactly what you need. “i wanted to say ‘i’ll fucking kill you’ and then ‘i’ll kick your ass’ but instead i almost said ‘i’ll fuck your ass.’”

you manage a snort through your tears. somehow, megan makes you laugh even through this.

“‘i’ll fuck your ass’ may have been scarier, actually,” you laugh, sniffling.

“god, y/n.” her brows are knit together in concern. she looks up at the sidewalk, the dorm lights barely visible down the street. “can i make sure you get home okay?”

“it’s so late already, i can’t let you walk back alone.” you shake your head.

“i’m sure as hell not letting you walk alone.” she scoffs, before giving you a nod of reassurance. “dani lives in your building, i’ll sleep at her’s once i’m in the dorm, i have her keycode. please.”

somehow, despite it being god knows how late, you know nothing is going to happen as long as megan is there. she insists on giving you her jacket and as much as you push back, she ignores you and drapes the zip-up over your shoulders anyways. she chats your ear off about how excited she is for friday’s game and before you know it, you’re back in your room, wobbling on unsteady feet through the dorm, grateful your roommates are still partying it up.

“thank you, for everything,” you tell her, watching as you sit on your bed and she quietly unlaces your shoes.

“i owe you a lot, that was nothing.” she shrugs, tossing your shoes into the corner. “if i’m good for anything, i’m good for shoulder checking weirdos.”

you laugh. “hopefully that’s the last time i’ll need your services.”

“you can need me forever,” megan tells you softly, smile on her lips. “i’m here.”

“i judged you so hard when i first met you,” you confess, falling backwards onto your bed. you blink, staring up at the ceiling. “i was so wrong about you.”

“yeah?” she laughs, taking a seat next to you to help put your hair into a bun.

“you’re such a sweetheart,” you sigh, sitting up. your hand brushes a tress of her hair out of her face. “biggest, most thoughtful dork i know.”

“i’m not dorky,” megan furrows her brow. you laugh as her nose scrunches up.

“you were talking to someone, i’m sorry.”

“she was talking to herself and calling it a conversation. i promise, as soon as i saw you walk out, i followed you asap.”

you feel yourself studying her, your heart pressing against your ribcage with something eager to come out.

“i bet you kiss so many girls.” the words spill out of you as the alcohol takes its toll. “how come you’ve never tried to kiss me?”

you see megan’s cheeks flush red, her gaze fixed on the tv as she pulls up a 10 hour dancing fruit video to leave on in the background.

“i don’t kiss that many girls,” she defends herself softly.

“you’re so special. megan the future superstar.” you groan, realizing how fleeting your friendship is. all you’ll probably be is a footnote in her life’s story. you furrow your brows. “i want a kiss from megan the future superstar.”

as drunk as you are, you’re shocked when she seems to comply.

your breath hitches as she leans in. her lips press gently against your temple.

“there.” she whispers, checking down at her phone. “minji and belle will be here soon, okay? good night, y/n.”

she pulls your blanket up over your shoulders and slips into the hallway. you’re too out of it to ask her to stay.

you wake up, and realize someone is in your bed.

you panic for a brief second before you realize that person is playing animal crossing on their switch, completely unbothered by you gaining consciousness. you’ve never been so grateful to see minji before, even if she is smothering you as you cram into the twin sized bed.

“she’s alive,” minji calls out from next to you. belle comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered, and pulls something out of the mini-fridge for you. a pedialyte in your favorite flavor and some pain relievers.

“thank you,” you sigh to your roommates, feeling your head pound as you sit up and start to chug, swearing off college parties for the rest of your years.

“can’t take credit. your jock left them for you this morning,” belle informs you, a teasing grin.

“oh god, megan,” you wince, recalling your behavior from the night before.

“she wouldn’t go away,” minji complains. “not until i texted her a picture of me in your bed so she knew i was there.”

“she does the same thing when i walk home with y/n from their study dates.” belle says. “just watches us from the doorway until we can’t see her any more.”

“y/n adopted a stray,” minji teases.

“if you say some shit about a bleeding heart, i’ll throw up in your bed specifically,” you threaten belle, and your roommates laugh at you as you let out another groan. you figure skipping class for the first time all semester won’t kill you as you lay back down.

after skipping all your classes, you’re at a table in the dining hall, meal untouched, your focus instead on trying to draft a text to megan that even begins to fix the mess you left behind last night. you’ve been at the same table for at least an hour, trying to figure out how to even start.

“hey, y/ln.” you recognize the voice as dani’s, calling out from behind your booth. “can’t hang?”

“leave her alone, dani.” the voice makes you freeze in place. you didn’t even get a chance to send your text.

“we missed you last night for spin the bottle,” dani grins. “meg had to get it on with that cheerleader.”

despite all the work you did last night to remember megan’s allowed to do what she wants, your stomach drops at dani’s reveal.

“yeah, okay, go away,” megan groans, shooing the blonde. dani complies, and megan sits so you’re alone in the booth together, side by side. she rests her head in her hand on the table. “so…”

“i’m really sorry about all i put you through last night,” you immediately start, feeling the regret press in your ribs.

“you don’t have to be,” she tells you softly, head shaking.

“no, i am.” you insist, realizing how stupid it was of you to think anything would ever come of this. megan doesn’t see you as anything but a tutor, a familiar face at best who she’ll leave behind as soon as she makes it big. “i got so caught up. in the game, the party, the celebration.”

“oh. um, yeah?” she asks quietly.

“you’re not a hockey star to me. you’re just megan.” you furrow your brows. “i’m sorry again for all that.”

you were hoping it would clear things up. but it’s like a cloud comes over megan, her gaze hard and more importantly, avoiding yours.

“no yeah, totally,” she wrinkles her nose, eyes clamping shut. you wonder what’s coming over her and panic that you’ve done something you can’t take back. you try to pivot away quickly.

“your game’s tonight, right?” you ask, but she’s already getting up from the table, gathering her bookbag in her hand.

“megan?” you check in.

“yeah, don’t worry about coming,” she tells you, shaking her head. “i know it’s not your thing.”

and before you can utter a single word more, she’s gone.

you take a couple of hours to try to do homework in the library, but you couldn’t possibly focus. not with megan’s final expression haunting you, the pained scrunch of her nose, her inability to bring herself to look at you. you have a tab open to a youtube livestream of the game that you can’t seem to draw your eyes away from.

“you look constipated,” minji says plainly as you get back to the dorm.

“you are such a-” you stop yourself. you’re not angry at minji, you’re angry at yourself. no need to take out a civilian in the crossfire. you suck in a deep breath and try again. “minji, please be nice to me for once. i’m having a shit day.”

“cheer up.” she says so devoid of emotion, you wonder if she was dropped as a baby. but then she’s handing you a card, in handwriting familiar to you but definitely not minji’s own. “your puppy dog gave this to me when we got coffee.”

your eyes nearly bug out of your head. “you got coffee together? today? since when do you hang out?”

“when you were passed out this morning. and i said she was determined, not that i didn’t like her.” you’ll never understand how this girl’s brain works. “anyways, letter, for you.”

you want to ask so many more questions, but a lightbulb goes off as you try to think about the web of connections at this university.

“and your friendship has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been admiring her roommate from afar with absolutely zero rizz to approach her with? are you trying to have her put in a good word?”

you would pay to watch minji’s demeanor crack like this again.

“wah, shut up. you spread lies on my good name.” she shakes her head furiously, but nothing ever triggers minji, so you know you’ve hit a soft spot when she gets this worked up. “megan is…”

“the closest you’re ever going to get to danielle marsh,” you burst out laughing.

“shut up and read your letter.”

you open the envelope and a ticket falls out. today’s date, 7pm, the championship game at your university ice arena.

y/n. i wrote this by hand and took my time. thank you for everything this semester. i think meeting you was my favorite part of this year. i’m grateful you saw me, the way you really saw me. hope that makes sense. hanging out with you felt like being a book that someone finally took off the shelf and opened up. hope to see you at my big game. i saved you a seat by the box, so you can help me study in between plays.

– megan

ps. just kidding about the studying thing, don’t you dare bring a book into my sacred space. anyways, thanks again.

“minji, i think i fucked up,” you breathe quietly. how unfair to keep judging megan when this whole time, she’s shown you exactly who she is. was it easier to say megan was this or that in order to soothe your own confused feelings? who did it ultimately hurt in the end?

“what would belle say?” the girl asks. “go bleed your heart out or whatever.”

you don’t correct her. it’s honestly the perfect advice.

you check your phone and see the game is at halftime, and they’re down 0-2. the stadium is on the other side of campus, but you remember megan’s words from the party. she doesn’t even try to let herself feel upset the week of a game, and there you are on the night of her team’s championship game, being the worst friend possible to her.

your heart races, then aches. you have to make this right, the sooner the better. you order an uber and pray this is the right call.

you race into the stadium and realize it’s absolutely packed with thousands of people, and thunderously loud. it looks like a professional stadium, even at the college level. the game is tied now, 2-2, but you remember enough of what megan’s told you to recognize that they’ve gone into overtime. next to score wins.

you stumble hurriedly down the steps before you make it to the front row. just as the note said, there’s an open seat directly in front of the player box. you see the flash of ginger hair from under a helmet, hunched over on the bench as she watches the play, clearly nervous. you lock your gaze on her and run up to the plexiglass wall.

there’s a tiny slot in the glass, usually where the players hand a dead puck or a broken stick through the slot to an eager fan, but you’re too desperate to get a hold of megan that you yell to her through it, hoping she can hear you over all the noise.

“megan!”

she looks around confusedly, before turning around to see you against the glass.

“y/n?”

“you deserve so much more than an apology, but i can at leas start with saying i’m sorry,” you know the confession is terrible timing wise, but you’ll never live with yourself if you don’t get it off your chest, especially on such an important night for megan. “i’ve been so horrible to you, assuming all the worst, and you’ve been nothing but an angel to me. ugh, i just…i feel so stupid, because i know how this ends, and i don’t want to get hurt, but i feel like i’ll regret it if i don’t say something.”

“how this ends?” you see megan’s brows furrow together underneath her face guard. “y/n, i could never even dream of hurting you.”

“you didn’t want to kiss me,” you remind her, but you don’t want it to feel like a guilt trip. “and that’s okay, i just know that changed a lot and-”

“because you were drunk.” she cuts you off, shaking her head quickly, her nose wrinkling as she clamps her eyes shut. “that’s- it’s just- fuck.”

“what?” you ask, but before you can finish, daniela slams into the player box and leans in towards megan.

“kazuha’s getting killed out there. she needs a stronger center out, coach is gonna put you in,” dani yells over the roar of the crowd, reaching over to grab a fast sip of water. she shoots a look at you, then a warning glare at megan to wrap it up. “30 seconds.”

“y/n—“

30 seconds is all you need. you won’t waste your shot.

“megan, i really like you. as in, really like you.” you feel the hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you finally hear the words out loud. “as in, i think i’m falling for you, which is so scary. i’m sorry for messing up our friendship. these feelings are way too huge for me to push away. knowing you was amazing and i don’t want you thinking for a second that it wasn’t.”

“skiendiel, in for center. push up and get that puck into that damn net!” coach yells, tapping the back of the ginger’s helmet to get her attention.

megan gives you a look, your confession hanging in the air, before she leaps over the door and back onto the ice.

she’s so insanely fast. you don’t have to know hockey to know she’s zipping circles around the other team, their yells of frustration loud and clear as megan swipes in to intercept pass after pass.

she’s so focused. you watch in awe.

dani is yelling something to which kazuha nods, dropping her shoulders to book it towards megan. megan uses their proximity to take the pass, running the puck once more up the ice. the defense of the other team are playing dirty, a high stick to the eye immediately taking daniela flat down onto the ice. lara calls for a foul from her spot in the goalie’s box, but the ref didn’t see it, so the play goes on at break-neck speed.

despite the chaos, megan is locked in to what she needs to do.

she spits the puck back out in a blazing pass back to kazuha, spinning off an incoming check from another player. she eyes the goal for a split moment, the clock trickling down into its final seconds, before kazuha’s pass is already blasting towards her.

megan shows no hesitation. she checks a defense into the wall before spinning off, stick lifting into the air to take the most perfect shot off kazuha’s pass.

your breath catches in your throat as the puck seems to suspend in air, everything going in slow motion. then, your eyes meet, in the middle of it all.

the goal lights up red just as the buzzer hits. the entire stadium erupts into a deafening roar as you watch megan get swarmed by her entire team. final score 3-2.

they’re cheering as a team, but you see the flash of ginger hair as a helmet comes off and a body starts skating back towards you. you move to the tunnel, where megan comes off the ice and can finally be face to face with you. she’s breathing heavy, stray hairs clinging to her face through the sweat.

“i didn’t kiss you that night because i wanted it to be perfect.” megan’s still catching her breath, but she seems desperate to clear her name. you feel frozen in front of her, but she presses on earnestly. “i didn’t want it to be another kiss with a random stranger i’d forget about in a week. i’ve spent too much time thinking about kissing you. i didn’t want it to be anything less than perfect for you.”

“i’m crazy about you, y/n,” she gasps breathlessly, arm wrapping around your waist without hesitation. “i like everything about you. i like you so much it scares me.”

“why didn’t you say anything?” is all you can manage, shaking your head in disbelief.

“are you serious?” megan lets out a high pitched laugh. “look at you. you’re the most brilliant, incredible, hilarious, kind person i know. i didn’t think i stood a chance. i’m nowhere near cool enough or smart enough to think i was good enough to talk to you, let alone getting to be your friend. it was so worth it to just be your friend. i would have been happy with that forever.”

you feel your head spin. megan thinks all this about you?

“i literally asked you to kiss me,” you press, confused about how it could have been misread.

“i didn’t think you were being weird about me being popular. when you cleared that up, my next thought was that you were pitying me, like how you pity-tutored me.” she confesses. “i overthought and it messed me up. i’m sorry.”

“if you don’t just damn kiss already,” lara barks at you guys as the team starts to trickle off the ice and into the tunnel, daniela grinning teasingly right behind her as she ices her eye. you wince at how bad her eye looks following that high stick, but then you realize what she’s teasing you about.

you look back at megan, those perfect brown eyes searching for something in yours. you can’t possibly understand how someone who just won her team a national championship can still seem so hesitant.

“may i?” she tilts her head eagerly.

“oh my god, asking permission after all that.” you groan and wrap your arms around her neck, head reeling from all that’s just unfolded. “megan, you chivalrous loser, i swear to god.”

she grins something so angelic, you choose to forgive her.

and the kiss she gives you, gentle yet eager, her arms wrapping around your waist to anchor you in place, is so, so perfect. so insanely worth the wait.

you walk into your 11am intro to british literature class that tuesday, door held open for you by your chivalrous loser.

sophia’s grading papers at the professor’s desk when eyes drop to your hands (your interlaced, holding-hands-with-megan hands) and smiles at you so giddily, you can’t help but smile back at her just as big. she’s never going to let you live this down.

dani and lara sit in the row directly behind you guys, hooting and making kissy noises to taunt their younger teammate. you won’t admit how much these idiots have grown on you.

megan’s arm snakes behind your shoulders as she leans back in her seat next to you. her laptop is already out, open to a new document. you’re so insanely proud of her for her determination.

you’re too busy admiring her to realize you’re staring, and by the time you’re aware, she’s side-eyeing you.

“eyes on your own paper, cheater.”

“oh my god, class hasn’t even started yet. you literally haven’t even typed anything.”

her fingers quickly hit the keyboard, a few strokes before she turns the computer to face you.

i <3 my super cool gf

girlfriend. your heart races at the memory of how you made it official over the weekend after being her date to all the celebratory dinners. you smile and type something back.

i <3 my dorky sweet gf

megan won’t ever let you catch a break. “oh, so you get to be cool and i’m just a dork again?”

“my dork now,” you remind her.

“you’re on thin ice,” she rolls her eyes. “you’ll have to take me on a date to make up for it.”

she reaches forward to take your hand in hers, letting them dangle between the desks. you give her hand a gentle squeeze. she peers at you from the corner of her eye, scrunches her nose, and re-focuses on the board as the professor sets up his presentation.

this stupid letterman jacket you’ve always talked shit about is actually kinda warm. at least, you like it a whole lot better when you’re the one wearing it.

“i like you so much,” you breathe quietly as the lecture begins.

she smiles eagerly, bringing your hand up to plant a kiss along your knuckles. she’s been so open about her affection for you, you feel like you’re in a dream.

“the guy is trying to teach,” she chastizes you, and you roll your eyes at the change in roles. the way she looks at you tells you she has so, so much to say, and your heart pounds as she focuses back on the lecture. your responsible girl.

she doesn’t leave you hanging, however, adding a final thought.

“but yeah, ditto.”

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