#and I’m sure if anyone was to ask me ‘’how was it

[delilahsturniolo]

— ୨୧ it’s ok i’m ok . . . m.s

in which . . . your best friend matt helps you get over your ex boyfriend.

warnings . . . SMUTTY, unprotected sex, degradation, use of pet names, fingering, kissing, oral, (fem!recieving) breast play, wall sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, edging, teasing, dom!matt, veryyy brief (barely) handjob, reader grinds on matt’s face, ummm lemme know if i forgot anything?

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

SO CLOSE TO WHAT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #11

“i don’t wanna talk about it,” you say softly, stretching your arms out, letting your head tilt back. you hear him exhale, and then, after a few moments, you feel him. the heat of matt near you as you both stood in his room. not trapping, not overwhelming…just there. solid. present. your boyfriend of 1 year had broken up with you a few days ago, and you didn’t know how to feel. you were honestly happy…but also pretty upset. you just wanted to get away from your ex, to forget about him.

“you sure?” matt’s voice is low, rough at the edges, the kind that sends a shiver down your spine. you nod, and when you look up, his eyes are already on you, watching. studying. like he’s trying to figure you out, even though he knows you better than anyone. “i’m okay,” you murmur, a little softer now, and it’s true. maybe it wasn’t earlier. maybe you were spiraling, feeling like everything was slipping through your fingers. but here, with him, with the way his fingertips skim against your bare shoulder, you feel grounded.

he leans down, just a little, his breath fanning against your skin. “you don’t have to be, i’m honestly surprised you aren’t a sobbing mess right now.” matt shrugged. your chest tightens, but not in a bad way, not in the way that makes it hard to breathe. but in the way that makes you aware of him, of how close he is, how easy it would be to turn and close the space between you. and god, you want to.

“i just wanna feel good,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. and that’s all it takes. matt’s lips brush against your shoulder first, slow and deliberate, like he’s asking for permission. then, higher…your neck, just below your jaw, where he knows you’re sensitive. his hands find your waist, pulling you back against him, fitting you together like you belong there.

“then let me make you feel good.”

his words send a heat through you, a slow-burning fire that ignites at your core. you turn in his hold, pressing your hands to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. matt’s eyes flicker down to your lips, and you don’t even hesitate. you close the distance, sinking into him, into the way he tastes, the way he moves against you, like he’s been waiting for this just as much as you have. his hands slide down, gripping your hips, pulling you even closer. the rest of the world fades away, the night, the noise, everything but the feeling of him. your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly, and the low sound he makes in response sends another shiver down your spine.

matt is on you in an instant, strong arms hauling you against his muscular chest. his mouth crashes against yours in a bruising kiss, tongue delving deep to claim you. you moan into him, fingers tangling in his dark hair as he walks you backwards until your ass hits the wall. he pins you there with his hard body, one hand gripping your wrists above your head while the other squeezes your boobs through your shirt. mmm, let me make you feel good, let me make you forget about that asshole." he growls against your lips, hips grinding into yours. you can feel his erection straining against his jeans, the thick ridge pressing insistently against your core. "please," you pant, arching into him.

with a quick flick of his fingers, he unhooks your bra and tugs it off, letting your breasts spill free. he palms them roughly, thumbs circling your nipples until they harden under his touch. "oh fuck," you cry out, head falling back against the wall as he pinches and tugs at the sensitive buds. his mouth descends on one breast, sucking the nipple into his hot mouth. he bites down gently before swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh, sending sparks of pleasure through you. "matt.." you whimper, hips bucking against his. matt chuckles darkly.

his other hand undoes your pants, shoving them down along with your panties. he finds your dripping folds, stroking through the slick heat. "so fucking wet already," he purrs, circling your clit with a teasing touch. "you're a needy little slut, aren't you?" you whimper, trying to push your hips into his hand for more pressure. "that's it, grind on my fingers pretty girl.." matt taunts, plunging two digits into your tight pussy. he pumps them hard and fast, finger-fucking you brutally. his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

"cum for me," he demands, fingers thrusting deeper. "cum on my fingers." your orgasm crashes over you, back arching off the wall as you spasm around his invading digits. matt fucks you through it, drawing out your pleasure until you're boneless and trembling. as you come down, he pulls his fingers from your pussy, bringing them to his lips to lick your juices off. "you taste so fucking good," he groans, lapping at his digits. he drops to his knees in front of you, spreading your legs wide. "now it's my turn to eat this sweet cunt."

he buries his face between your thighs, tongue diving into your soaked folds. he licks and sucks at your pussy, alternating between long strokes and hard flicks of his tongue on your clit. you grip his hair, holding him in place as you grind shamelessly against his face. matt drives two fingers into your tight pussy, curling them just right to hit that perfect spot inside you. "fuck, just like that," you moan, walls fluttering around his invading digits. he pumps them faster, tongue lashing your clit as he finger-fucks you hard and deep.

"i'm gonna cum," you pant, thighs trembling. he doubles his efforts, sucking your clit into his hot mouth as he fucks you with his fingers. your orgasm slams into you, making you scream as pleasure explodes through every nerve ending. he keeps licking and sucking, drawing out your release until you collapse against the wall, absolutely spent. he stands, face glistening with your juices. "you're so pretty when you come undone," he says huskily, kissing you deeply so you can taste yourself on his tongue. you return the kiss hungrily, hands fumbling to undo his jeans and free his throbbing erection.

you wrap your hand around his length, stroking slowly from base to tip. matt groans into your mouth, hips rolling into your touch. "i need to be inside you," he pants, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. you line him up with your entrance, feeling the broad head of his cock nudge against your slick folds. "fuck me," you demand, sinking down onto his thick length in one smooth motion. he bottoms out inside you, stretching you. "oh god yes," you moan out, clenching around him. matt grips your hips hard as he starts to move, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in.

the force of his thrusts rocks you against the wall, his cock driving deep into your pussy with each snap of his hips. you hold on tight, nails digging into his shoulders as he pounds into you relentlessly. "ah, oh my gosh matt" you cry out, head thudding back against the wall. he smiles, fucking you so hard the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. "take my cock," he grunts, slamming up into you brutally. "fucking take it." your pussy spasms around him, drawing him deeper. "yes, just like that," you pant, feeling another orgasm building. he angles his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust.

"i'm gonna fill this pretty pussy up," matt growls, one hand snaking between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit. "gonna make you full of my cum." the dirty words push you over the edge and you cum with a scream, your pussy clamping down on his cock. he follows shortly after with a loud groan, burying himself to the hilt as he explodes inside you. you feel his hot seed painting your walls, filling you up just like he promised. he rocks into you a few more times, drawing out both your pleasure until you're boneless and sated.

matt holds you against the wall, panting heavily as you both come down from the high of your shared climax. "holy shit," he says finally, giving you a lopsided grin. "you feel better now?" you can only nod as you stupidly smile, still lost in the haze of pleasure.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

taglist

[coolwyous]

┈─★ 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.

[russo-woso]

Ibiza || Alessia Russo x reader

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Summary You meet your soulmate when you least expect it, in the most unexpected place, Ibiza.

A/N I may have tweaked the request a bit :)

The crowd was something you didn’t expect.

You knew it was going to be busy, you had expected it, but what you didnt expect was just how crowded it was going to be.

You weren’t a people’s person, you weren’t supposed to be here.

But after your friends begged you to come, you had no choice but to come.

The crowd of Ushuaia was frantic, jumping up and down to the beat of the music.

Although you were trying to have a nice time, you weren’t succeeding.

So instead of dancing with random men like your friends were doing, you stood in the corner where it was a bit more quieter, praying that the night wouldn’t last too long.

You had turned around to put your drink on the floor but as you stood back up, you felt a drink splash all over you.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there. Here, let me help you.” A woman said, clearly the same woman who had crashed in to you.

You laughed it off, looking down at your outfit before looking at her.

Your eyes froze - she was gorgeous.

The woman attempted to wipe off the alcohol that she had planned to drink, but it was no use.

“Honestly don’t worry about it. I knew it would happen eventually. You don’t wear your best outfit when it’s somewhere like here.” You joked, sending her a smile as she blushed in embarrassment.

“Can I buy you a new drink or anything?” She asked

“You’re the one that doesn’t have a drink now. I should be offering you a drink.” You pointed out, her cheeks turning even more red.

“I was the one that walked into you. Please let me buy you a drink or something as an apology.”

“Tell me your name and then I’ll consider that drink.” You said

“Alessia.”

“Well… Alessia, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Do I get to know your name? If I’m buying you a drink then surely I get to know your name.” The woman, who you now know is called Alessia, said.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” She repeated with a smile. “What would you like to drink?”

“What drink did you spill on me? It smells amazing.”

She turned to the bartender, ordering whatever drink it was before turning back to you.

“So, Y/N, did you come with anyone tonight?”

“Some friends, it’s girls weekend away.” You responded, watching her face lighten.

“So no partner?”

“Nope.” You said, a smile resting on your face as you slowly understood what she was on about. “You?”

“Single.”

You smiled at her answer before looking away so she didn’t see.

“So, Alessia, where are you from?”

“London, you? Wait let me guess! I’m thinking somewhere in the midlands.”

“Wrong. I live in St Albans but I was born up north.” You told her

“I work near St Albans.”

“Do you? Where—” You began saying but was quickly cut off by a group of people crowding around you.

“Alessia, please can I have a picture?”

“Alessia, can you take a selfie with me?”

“Alessia, can you sign this for me?”

You looked at the group and back at Alessia.

Confusion filled your mind as you heard what the people were saying.

Was Alessia famous?

Your eyes were wide open as you looked at Alessia, but when you saw the panicked look on her face and how her breath quickened, a protective instinct kicked in.

The crowd got closer, practically pushing at shoving at the blonde.

“Hey! Don’t touch her! Go away, now!” You shouted, pushing the people away.

As soon as they had gone, you turned to Alessia with a shocked look.

Alessia looked so shaken up, tears threatening to spill as she fiddled with her fingers.

“Hey, it’s okay.” You cooed, hesitantly rubbing her back.

You’d only known her for five minutes but seeing her cry broke your heart.

“I’m sorry that happened.” She apologised, her voice shaking as she said it.

“Don’t apologise.” You said, your voice soft as you continued to calm her down.

“I guess you want some answers then.” She told you

“Yeah, I’m a bit confused.”

“I’m a footballer. I play for Arsenal and England.”

“That’s amazing. You must be good. I mean arsenals a big team.”

“It is. Thank you for telling them to go away. I get bit anxious when there’s a lot of fans.” Alessia explained, you nodding, understanding what she was saying.

“Y/N! We’re getting a taxi back to the villa. We have to go.” Your friend shouted as she spotted you.

“Well… it was lovely to meet you Alessia.” You said, standing up from your chair.

“You too, Y/N.” She smiled

You began to walk away, but you heard her call your name.

“Y/N! Do you reckon I could get your number?”

“Thank god, I didn’t think you were gonna ask.”

[gojoest]

Sylus leans lazily against the doorframe. His arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You know”, he begins, voice laced with mischief but softened in a way that only appears when his gaze falls on you. “You’re really not as subtle as you think, kitten”

You glance up from your book, raising an eyebrow. “Not as subtle as I think?”, you echo, tossing the words back at him. “I’m not the one lurking in the doorways, making it really obvious that I’m waiting for something”

Sylus chuckles, taking a slow step toward the couch where you’re seated, his gaze trailing to the curve of your lips as they twist into a near-imperceptible smile. “I’m not lurking. I am observing” He tilts his head slightly, his voice low but tinted with amusement. “And you — well, you’re practically glowing right now”

You roll your eyes, trying to hide the rush of warmth spreading across your cheeks. “Glowing? What are you, a walking cliché? Don’t flatter yourself”

His smirk widens, clearly unfazed by your attempt to deflect. “I’m not flattered, kitten. But we both know what’s going on” He steps closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming as he stands directly in front of you, leaning in just enough to tower over you. “You’ve been acting a little… strange tonight. Fidgeting, avoiding eye contact, and—”, he gestures toward your tightly clenched hands around the book. “What’s the matter? You want something but can’t bring yourself to ask for it?”

You scoff, fighting the flutter of nerves building in your stomach. “Oh, right. I’m just desperate for your attention, aren’t I? That’s it. All this time I’ve been planning my grand confession of longing”, you add with another exaggerated roll of your eyes.

Sylus raises an eyebrow, leaning in closer, his grin turning playful as he snatches the book from your hands and tosses it aside. “Maybe not a confession, but you are dying for something. I’m just curious what it is”

You refuse to let him see you flustered. Instead, you offer him a sly grin. “Maybe you are the one who’s dying for something, Sylus. Not everything’s about me, you know?”

But his grin only stretches wider, his voice drops to a teasing whisper. “I’m sure it’s all about me, kitten. You’re just trying to save face, pretending you don’t want it. But we both know the truth”

You huff, narrowing your eyes. “And what’s the truth, Sherlock?”

“The truth”, Sylus says, his face inching closer to yours, “is that you’ve been avoiding me like I’m some sort of plague. But the way your eyes keep flickering to my lips? That’s not the look of someone who’s trying to avoid me, kitten. That’s the look of someone who wants something”

Your heart skips a beat, but you fight to keep your composure. “Yeah, well, maybe I just like pretending that you matter. It’s fun to watch you get all smug for no reason”

His grin widens, clearly relishing every second of this. “You keep telling yourself that”, he says, his hand reaching to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “But your body’s saying something different”

You shiver involuntarily, and of course, he notices. “See?”, he whispers, his hand gently cupping the side of your face. “You don’t need to be so coy, kitten. You want a kiss, don’t you?”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, you almost cave. But you quickly recover, tilting your head and meeting his gaze with a sly, confident look. “If anyone wants a kiss here, Sylus, it’s you. I’m just here trying to survive your insufferable teasing”

For a brief moment, his eyes widen in surprise, but the mischievous glint returns almost immediately. “Oh, really? That’s how this is going to go? You want to make it about me now, kitten?”

You shrug, your lips curling with a playful defiance. “Well, it’s certainly more fun than pretending I’m the one dying for your attention. I mean, we both know you’ve been hinting at it all night. So what’s the deal? Just give in already”

“I’m not the one avoiding the truth here”, he says, his voice low as he closes the distance between you. His lips brush yours in a deliberate, teasing kiss before pulling back, smirking. “Told you. You are the one who wants it”

Your breath hitches at the contact, but instead of pulling away, you close the gap this time, pressing your lips to his in a quick, fiery kiss that causes his smirk to falter.

When you pull away, the playful tension is gone, the teasing fading into something more genuine. A soft, contented smile on your faces, hinting that you both got what you wanted.

“You’re insufferable”, you mutter, though your tone is loaded with satisfaction.

Sylus chuckles softly. “Maybe. But I think you like it”

You shoot him a glare of feigned annoyance, but the soft smile tugging at the corner of your lips betrays you. “Maybe. But don’t think I’ll go easy on you”

“I wouldn’t dream of it”, he softly whispers before pulling you in for another kiss.

This time, without the games. There was no need for teasing anymore.

[lucygraysboy]

“i know you wouldn’t. pretty songbirds don’t tell no lies, not when it comes to serious matters. i was just messin’ with you,” he muses, nodding his head in acknowledgement. the smile on his face only continues to grow, slowly but surely overtaking his entire visage. “good, ‘cause i ain’t sharin’ ‘em with no one. my little cheese balls.” laughing as he teases the cute brunette, he reaches underwater and attempts to tickle her toes. cheeto feet. she doesn’t have smelly feet, obviously, but he can’t refrain from tormenting her from time to time. just how they did back when they were little. “sampling. yeah. right. even costco gives bigger samples, just sayin’,” he huffs, still trying to pretend he’s somewhat offended but failing to do so, grinning instead. 

he doesn’t enjoy having his past relationships thrown in his face, not even jokingly, because he’s deeply embarrassed by his behavior at the time. he regrets doing the things that he did, hurting her, trying to forget and replace her, using people. his heart has been faithful this whole time, though. he needs her to know that and so right as her arm curls around his shoulders, their faces pressed together, he hears himself whispering, “i’ve never loved anyone else. it’s always been you for me.” strong arms curling around her slender waist, eyes closing for a moment, basking in the feeling of being here with her… he could spend the rest of his life in this tub. he knows he’s hurt her terribly, and that to expect her to throw herself at him again instantly would be cruel. it tears him to pieces.

feeling her shift in his lap, he opens his eyes and loosens his grip on her. fingers absently dancing along her sides, stopping when they reach the fabric of her bikini top and heading back down to rest on her hips. “you’re worth the wait,” he insists, looking up at her with adoration, sensing the storm of emotions that’s brewing deep inside her and wishing there was a way for him to calm her nerves down once and for all. assure her that he’s changed. “i don’t care if it’s a week, a month, a year, ten years… i’m done playing games and pretending i can be happy with someone who isn’t you. i’ll be waiting for you. always.” maybe it’s easy for him to say now, but he genuinely can’t imagine moving on without her. “paused by you or paused by me?” he asks for clarification, lifting his hand up and touching her cheek. the same cheek that a while back bore evidence of billy taupe’s anger. it still makes his heart ache, how he wasn’t there for her. he leans in and kisses her beauty mark. “just come back to me, okay? we’ll figure it out.”

“you’re right, but i’d never trick you about this billy bonney,” left hand gently pats his cheek, rubbing with the back of her hand with her knuckles, “my cheeto feet only belong in your face.” lips twitch in amusement, unable to believe she’s willingly calling her own soap scented feet cheeto scented. other hand remains on his shoulder as she easily is tugged to sit on his lap, she perches happily here, legs draped over his lap. “sampling…that’s what we’re callin’ it now.” amusement softly lacing her voice, melting against his hand on her chin.

catching the way he suddenly won’t look at her after she mentions the others… she throws her left arm around his neck, leans into him and presses her cheek against his as she gives billy a side hug. gently nuzzling into his face. doesn’t want him to feel bad for it, even if she’s mad or jealous or still untrusting because of the past. that wasn’t her intention, it was supposed to come off playfully regardless, so this is in case she made him embarrassed. hopefully a small hug will do. when his puppy blues meet her fawn-brown hues again… her heart takes a leap and feels like someone’s got their hand around it, swelling and overtaken by the powerful grip of love but why is it so hard to just say she loves him? again.

“all right,” still smiling as the brunette sits back up straight, despite it slowly slipping off her face, the touch to her hair making her more emotional, “but what if waitin’ might take an awfully long time.” what happens if she doesn’t find the courage to say the three words again? even if it’s there, burning, ready to erupt from the surface. but fear… unable to trust… anchors her in place. thinking back to being brave last time, getting ahead of herself, it fell apart so quickly that it destroyed her in an even worse way. that’s enough to keep her scared and confused on what to trust. how to trust. at some points she always gets to thinking maybe she’s not meant to be tied down, because if it’s not billy, then it’s no one anyway. billy taupe and river have confirmed no one can fill the enormous space he takes up in her heart. but what if something is ready to tear her and billy apart again? the second she decides to fall into this head first? “i’m sure there’s a chance, but what if the membership starts and then it’s paused unexpectedly?” meaning, what happens if her fight or flight responses kick in if she were to jump into this and she takes off. thinking that’s what she might do, if her heart out talks her brain, she jumps too fast again and then things go sideways she’s capable of just taking flight before it hurts too much again.

[delugyu]

pining with a hundred hearts

summary: Confessing to you should be easy. Kai’s got his whole speech prepared, having gone over it about a million times in his head now. All he has to do now is say it exactly as rehearsed. As long as he keeps his cool and doesn’t veer off script, or say something stupid and thoughtless like—“Do you wanna hook up?” he blurts out, wide-eyed and shaking.

…Yeah. Like that.

pairings: huening kai x fem!reader

word count: 11.3k

tags: fluff, smut (mdni), friends to lovers, best friend!kai, yeonjun being a mediocre wingman and the biggest dudebro on earth, kai is a ball of anxiety, a couple religious metaphors, incredible amounts of pining

smut tags: multiple smut scenes… this is only like one step above pwp okay, switch!kai, switch!reader, dry humping, choking (m rec.), unprotected sex, oral (f rec.), car sex, sooo muchhh kissinggg, praise, spit kink kinda, handjob for a second, multiple orgasms

notes: thanks again to this anon for the idea! yes this is another best friend fic i’m sorry i can’t help that this is what calls to me. anyway i hope u luv thisssss!

Kai’s staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, wondering if he should go run and buy flowers or if that would be too corny. He examines his appearance with a critical eye, not wanting to look the slightest bit unattractive when he sees you. A small strand of hair falls into his face, and he pushes it back until he looks perfect again. He tries to imagine how he’d look with a bouquet in his hand.

“Dude, the harder you try, the worse you look.” Kai turns to Yeonjun with a frown, putting his hand back to his side and releasing the imaginary flowers. He deflates when he sees Yeonjun’s unamused expression.

“I’m not good at this stuff like you, though. I don’t know how to ask girls out,” Kai says, moving to sit beside Yeonjun on the edge of the bathtub. He brought Yeonjun here to cheer him on, not to make him feel worse about himself. Kai’s confidence is dwindling the longer he spends in Yeonjun’s presence.

Yeonjun ruffles Kai’s hair, and Kai immediately swats his hand away, scolding him for ruining the hair he had perfectly in place. Kai stretches his neck out to look at himself in the mirror again. He pouts when he sees the mess Yeonjun made.

“Just be normal. She’s your best friend, she’s not gonna bite your head off,” Yeonjun reasons.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Kai says. “Her biting my head off might actually be better. I’m scared of her rejecting me.”

Yeonjun smiles at Kai, making Kai scrunch his brows. It feels like there’s some joke he’s not in on. Before he can ask, Yeonjun’s pushing himself up and off the bathtub, stretching out his legs. Kai looks up at him, wondering how to be even half as carefree as him.

“I’m exhausted,” Yeonjun sighs, looking out the window. Kai doesn’t know what for—only twenty minutes have passed, it definitely wouldn’t be dark out yet. “Let’s just go to her place now.”

Kai’s eyes bug out. “Now?! I’m not ready!”

Yeonjun laughs, “I can promise you that she doesn’t care how you look.” He leaves the bathroom then, and Kai feels like he has no choice but to follow.

He’s so worried, he can’t stop thinking about how you might react to his confession. What if you don’t feel the same? That would crush Kai, but he would never make you feel like you have to say yes to him. He just really, really wants the feeling to be mutual.

Suddenly he’s walking outside with Yeonjun, and he knows exactly where Yeonjun plans on taking him. He recites his confession under his breath, making sure he remembers it all still. I’ve been in love with you for years, I can’t imagine my life spent beside anyone but you, and I really hope you’ll be my girlfriend. Whew, he’s still got it.

“Stop freaking out so much,” Yeonjun says from beside him, snapping Kai back to reality. He blinks at his friend, processing what he said for a few seconds.

“I’m not freaking out.”

“Yes you are, dude. You’re, like, hyperventilating next to me.”

“Oh god, I’m hyperventilating?!” There’s no way he can confess to you like this! He imagines how gross it would be for you to hear him declare his love for you through jagged breaths. He turns around abruptly, ready to walk back home.

Yeonjun stops him with a hand gripping his shirt. “No backing out,” he says, pulling Kai back to him.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Kai says, shaking his head with panicked eyes.

Yeonjun grounds Kai with his hands on his shoulders, making sure he’s looking him in the eyes. “If you don’t do this today, you never will. I’m not letting you walk away now.”

Kai sighs and drops his head in defeat. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s just go.”

Time passes way too quickly, and Kai finds himself standing at your door much too soon. Yeonjun abandons him as soon as your apartment is in sight, telling Kai he’ll be waiting for his success story when he comes back. Kai’s heart is pounding. He really hopes there ends up being a success story to tell.

He’s scrambling around for the words in his brain, making sure he doesn’t choke on them as soon as you open the door. I love you, I don’t want anyone but you, please be my girlfriend—something like that. He’s in the midst of a breathing exercise to calm himself down when the door swings open. He flinches, straightening his posture and sending you a smile.

“Hi Kai,” you say, backing up so he’ll come inside. Is he shaking? It feels like he’s shaking.

“Hi. I have something to tell you.” He wants to slap himself. Why'd he say it like that?! Does he think he’s the grim reaper or something, delivering some message of death?! He sounds so ominous, you must be so scared.

“Alright, let’s go to my room then.” You don’t sound shaken at all. You must be really good at hiding that you’re scared.

When he’s sitting across from you on your bed, he can clearly feel the way his body’s shaking. He almost wants to jump off the mattress so you don’t feel the way he trembles. You’ve done this a million times before, sharing your bed and staring at each other, but it feels so different this time.

You look around the room awkwardly in the midst of Kai’s prolonged silence, then start scrolling through your phone. You’re bored—he’s boring you, he needs to get on with it, this is already going wrong.

He clears his throat, and you return your attention to him. He opens his mouth and already starts stuttering on his words. He shuts up immediately, racking his brain for his confession again, and freaking out when he can’t find it.

“Kai? What’d you wanna tell me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. He just has to spit it out now. He can’t waste your time any longer. He prays the words will just find him if he opens his mouth and starts speaking.

“Do you wanna hook up with me?” he blurts out, wide-eyed and shaking.

Fear crashes upon him so fast. That’s not what he meant to say. He feels the world crumbling around him, and he prays the universe is kind enough to swallow him whole.

Your silence is horrifying him, but he can’t blame you. He should probably see himself out now. You aren’t going to want anything to do with him ever again.

“That’s what you wanted to tell me?” you ask.

Kai gulps. “Um, yes.”

You look him up and down. “You’re shaking so much.” Kai looks down at himself to check. Yep, he sure is.

“Sorry,” he says.

“Are you a virgin?” He can’t be surprised that you asked that; he’s making himself look like the biggest loser ever right now.

“No,” he answers shakily. He’s not super experienced, but he’s definitely not a virgin. He can barely stand looking at you as he waits for your answer, feeling your rejection creeping up on him.

You shrug. “Alright, we can hook up.”

Kai feels his brain start to malfunction all over again. He wasn’t expecting you to agree. You were supposed to scold him and slap him and kick him out of your apartment for asking something so heinous. He’s not sure what to do now. It’s not like he can back out of this—or like he wants to.

“So… can I kiss you?” he asks, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah.” He wipes the sweat off his palms onto his jeans before he leans in to start closing the gap between you. He lets his face hover a few inches away from yours, taking in your beauty from this close up. You’re so pretty that he already feels himself getting hard just looking at you like this. He stares at your lips, thinking about all the hours he’s spent dreaming of how they’d feel against his.

A voice in his head urges him to run away and hide. What if he’s not good enough for you? What if he doesn’t make you cum? Maybe he should just apologize for saying anything and blame it on being drunk or something.

You push forward before he can pull away, and suddenly your lips are on his and fireworks are going off everywhere. Or at least that’s how it feels, Kai doesn’t know—half of his thinking prowess is in his dick right now.

The poets were right, a kiss with your true love does feel different. This is a high Kai has never felt before, one that leaves him lightheaded and struggling to cling onto reality. God is real, the universe is good, and he’ll devote himself to worshipping you for the rest of his life.

His hands find your face with a feather-light touch, unsure how far he should go just yet. One hand tangles itself in your hair, using gentle force to press your face closer to his. He wants to feel your soul enter his body, to become so intertwined that your beings blend into one.

He grants your tongue access into his mouth as soon as he feels you licking at his lips. He has half a mind to be embarrassed by the whine he emits when you deepen the kiss, mentally scolding himself for being so pathetic. He shivers when your hands fall onto his shoulders, completely weakened by your touch. He’ll let you go as far as you want, he’ll give you the world.

You pull away to catch your breath, staring him down like you’re some hungry wolf. Kai wishes that it didn’t turn him on as much as it did. To see your eyes dark and wanting for him makes blood rush to his cock. This is something Kai’s waited years for, and it does wonders for his confidence, if only for a moment.

He drags you back to him, capturing your lips yet again. There’s more heat in his movements this time, conveying all his attraction to you through tongue and teeth. He licks into your mouth, wanting more, needing more, aching to get you delirious off his touch. His hands start moving down your body, dipping below your shirt to hold onto your bare waist. Your skin is warm and soft, and it feels like territory that Kai needs to explore.

He bites your lip and soothes the sting with a swipe of his tongue, then places another quick kiss to your lips. You look like something out of his wildest dreams, your lips wet and swollen and your eyes blown out with lust. He must not be faring any better. Your eyes dart to the bulge in his pants, and Kai feels a smidge of humiliation that you can see how he’s already fully hard. If a little bit of making out is enough to get him like this, he really has to pull himself together for when you actually touch him.

You push down on Kai’s shoulders until his back meets the mattress. He stares up at you and bites his lip, waiting for your next move. There’s a million different things you could do right now, and he thinks he’d be okay with any of them. You could throw your clothes to the floor and ride his face, you could shove his pants down his legs and tug at his cock, you could sit on his lap and just kiss him some more—hell, you could do nothing but sit there and look pretty and Kai would eventually burst.

“So what made you suddenly decide to hook up with me?” you ask while you situate yourself on his lap. He gasps as you let your hips fall into a slow grind over him. He curses the number of layers separating you two, wanting nothing more than to feel you directly. His hands fall to your thighs, gripping the soft flesh.

“I just…” It’s hard for him to find his words when he’s so focused on the sight of you on top of him. He’s fantasized about this countless times, but none of his imaginations could compare to this.

You laugh and let a hand trail up his chest, stopping at his throat to hold it in a loose grasp. He doesn’t want to be a pervert and beg for you to close your fist, but the idea of you choking him while grinding on top of him has his dick twitching in his jeans. The light pressure isn’t enough, he’d let you go all the way if you wanted.

“You just what?” you coax, smiling at him. He doesn’t know if you meant to be condescending or coddling, but either way it leaves him gripping onto your thighs a little tighter to keep his composure. His tongue is useless, no words find him when you’re toying with him like this. “Tell me, I wanna know,” you press. Kai doesn’t have it in him to create some lie on the spot.

“I-it’s kinda hard to think right now,” Kai says, hands moving up to your hips to try to urge you to move a little faster.

“I can stop, then,” you say, pausing your movements.

“No!” He presses his hips up into you and uses his hands to continue grinding you against him. You squeeze his throat at that, which only makes him whimper and buck into you harder.

“Kai,” you scold, and he finally listens and calms down. It takes a lot of willpower to lay still beneath you. You’re so tempting, he can’t help but try to relieve the strain in his pants.

“It’s just been a while, and… you’re really hot, so,” he explains as he tries to control his breathing.

You give an unsatisfied hum. “So you chose me just cause I’m hot and available?”

Kai squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in pain. He thinks you’re doing this on purpose. “No. You’re my best friend, and I trust you, that’s why. Please move,” he says, trying to urge your hips forward again. He’s a little surprised at how easily he can hide the fact that he was originally planning on asking you out today. Being this horny must grant him superpowers.

You sit there for a moment, pondering his words. Those ten seconds feel like torture, but you’re undoing his pants as soon as you decide his answer was satisfactory, and it makes everything worth it. You push them halfway down his thighs before tugging your own shorts off, and Kai’s hands work quickly to feel up the exposed skin.

You’re back to grinding on him, but this time less clothes separate you. It’s still far too much, though; Kai needs to feel skin on skin. His fingers pry at your panties and try to tug them off, but you swat his hands away. He looks up at you with the most pitiful look he can muster, and it only serves to make you laugh at him like he’s some handsy perv. He blushes a little, letting his hands fall back onto your thighs.

“You just can’t wait, huh?” you taunt, hands sliding up his stomach and chest until his shirt is pulled as far up as it will go. You stare at his body with a bitten lip and dark eyes, and the intensity makes Kai shudder.

“I-I can wait,” he counters, rubbing his thumbs on your skin, keeping his hands right where they are to show that he’s being good. If all you’ll give him is some grinding and heavy petting, then he’ll be happy to just shut up and take it. He needs to prove himself to you, to show you that he can be whatever you want him to be. If you want him to be quiet and lay down like a toy, he’ll be ten steps ahead of you, leaning back on the mattress waiting to be used. If you want him to throw you around and treat you like a whore, he’ll show you strength like no one else has. This is about doing everything exactly how you want.

“How cute,” you coo, letting your nails lightly rake down his torso, stopping once your fingers are at his boxers. You let your finger run over the hem teasingly, just tracing it back and forth with no care as to how much this is torturing Kai. His hips rut up without his permission, body acting on its own accord, and he’s worried for a second that you might scold him.

“Sorry,” he’s quick to apologize, but his body betrays him again. He swears he’s not intent on making himself look so pathetic and horny—this is just what you do to him.

“Do you need me now?” you ask, snapping the waistband of his boxers playfully. He whines and nods, squeezing your hips with need. “How bad?”

“So bad I could cry,” he says. You laugh, and he panics.

“Then cry.” His eyes widen. He knows you’re serious when you still your hips over him once more, crossing your arms and grinning down at him. You’re such a tease, he might just die.

“Please, please use me!” If you want him to beg, he’ll put on a whole damn show. He holds you in place above him so he can roll his hips up into yours, making sure your clit catches on the head of his cock each time. His grip is bruising, and your gasps are like music to his ears. He can’t stop now, he’s insatiable. “Hnng—I’ll cum in my boxers if you don’t let me inside you now,” he whines, giving you a particularly rough thrust.

He’s thankful that you don’t push him away again when his hands scramble to yank your panties off. He pulls them down your legs and throws them hastily somewhere off the bed. He flips the two of you over so you’re lying on the mattress, and you’re giggling at him while he loses his mind above you. He takes off the rest of his clothes as fast as he can, itching to feel your hands all over his skin.

He’s panting by the time he’s finally got his dick in his hands, stroking it and spreading his precum down his shaft. You’re way too beautiful beneath him, and the fear of not lasting long enough to make you cum is making him feel incredibly insecure. You’re way too good for him. Oh god. He has so much to prove, so much to live up to.

He tries to dive down between your legs, figuring he could at least get you to cum on his tongue to ease his worries. He’s stopped by your fist in his hair, pulling him back up before he could even get eye-level with your pussy. His fingers are quick to separate your folds then, rubbing up your slit persistently.

“Let me prepare you,” he says, moving his head down again. He only gets to nibble your thigh before you’re giggling and pulling his head away.

“I’m ready,” you insist, spreading your legs a little wider. His head spins. You’re insane. Now he’s really in danger of cumming too soon—like, before he even sticks it in. He leans his head onto your shoulder, trying to get a hold of himself. His fingers swipe rapidly at your clit, trying to get you as close to the edge as he is. He can’t embarrass himself. He has to be good for you.

Your legs shake and close over his hand, and you try tugging him by the wrist to push him away, but he’s too intent on making you cum to be deterred by that. “Fuck, Kai, stop, you’re gonna..!” Your voice is getting high-pitched and whiny, and your pleas for mercy are really only working against you; if anything, it only motivates Kai further.

“It’s okay, just let go,” he urges, watching your face to see if you’re close. Your eyebrows are upturned, eyes glazed over with lust, and suddenly you look a lot less like a hungry wolf and more like a poor little lamb. He realizes then that the most important thing in the world right now is getting you to fall apart under him.

“Ah—oh, god,” you cry, hips rolling up into his hand as he keeps his relentless pace. He watches arousal drip from your empty cunt, leaking down to the mattress, and it’s the most enticing sight Kai’s ever laid eyes on.

“Come on, cum for me. Promise to stuff you so good when you do,” Kai urges, feeling dizzy at the sight of your twitching body. You must be so close. Every part of him aches for your climax.

“Fuck, cumming..!” you gasp out, grasping onto Kai’s arm for dear life. He loves this feeling, it’s like you need him, like he saved you, like he showed you divinity. It gets too much to his head, and he knows at that moment that he just became addicted. He’ll keep searching for this high for the rest of his life.

He lets up once your body starts convulsing too hard, using his hand to gently hold your waist down instead. He looks at you like you’re something magnificent. A part of him still wonders if this is real or not, but his mind could never make up something this life-changing.

He leans down to kiss you, something deep and hungry, portraying all the need that’s nestled its way into his being. Your hands find his shoulders easily, and it feels like they were meant to be there. Kai thinks your bodies must have been made to touch each other.

You pull away from the kiss, smiling up at him like a little devil. “I thought you said you were gonna fill me up now?”

Something about you saying that makes everything seem much more real all of a sudden. Anxiety strikes its way back into Kai’s stomach, and he doesn’t know if he is greater parts fear or lust when his hand finds his dick again.

“I will,” he promises, and he prays you don’t hear the shake in his voice. He holds back a gasp when he brings his tip to your entrance. You’re soaked, and he feels the way your hole flutters pathetically for him. You need him. He almost feels possessed at the thought.

He bites his lip hard as he starts to push in. He’s trying not to get ahead of himself, but you’re so easy to get drunk in. You’re so tight, he would have stuffed you with his fingers if he’d known you’d be squeezing him like a vice.

He bottoms out with a gruff moan, holding onto your waist for dear life. He can’t believe this. He’s inside you. He’s in love with you. He’s as close to you as he could possibly be. The physical world constrains him from tying your souls together infinitely, but the intimacy of this is almost good enough.

How does he prove himself worthy for you? He feels himself getting lost more and more in a fantastical world in which you love him too, and the two of you are making love. But that’s not what this is. You just want him to fuck you.

His hands trail down to your hips, holding you still as he starts to pull out a bit. He’ll give you what you want. He’ll prove himself capable, make sure you know how well he can satisfy you. He’d spend a lifetime making you believe him if he could.

Your breath catches when Kai bottoms out again in a hard thrust. “You’re big,” you say with a little giggle, hands coming up to rest on Kai’s shoulders.

“T-thanks.” He doesn’t know if you’re laughing at his stutter or at his response, but either way it makes his face flush. He fucks into you at a steady pace now, slow enough to keep himself from cumming.

Your hand trails up to the nape of his neck to grip his hair, and it makes Kai whine. You roll your hips up into him, meeting his thrusts deliciously, tugging harder at his hair when he speeds up a little. You’re making things really hard for Kai right now. He wants to give you the best time of your life, but you keep hypnotizing him with how sexy you are.

He can’t be selfish. He brings a thumb to your clit and relishes in the way you groan out at the stimulation. “Just like that,” you praise, clutching onto him a little more desperately.

“Wanna be good for you,” he says, letting his hips buck harder against you. He’s never felt so brainless in his life; he only acts on instinct as he chases his orgasm and your own. There’s a primal urge to claim you, to paint your walls with his seed.

Your back arches up into him, like you’re presenting yourself fully to him. His free hand snakes up your shirt to find your tits, playing with them as he pleases, watching your reactions to everything. You look so overwhelmed. Your mouth hangs open with broken whines as Kai keeps stimulating you, and the sight has his stomach clenching in threat of climaxing soon.

“Kai,” you moan, accompanied by some garble of words that he can’t quite decipher. He doesn’t know if that’s because you’re unintelligible from how good you feel, or if it’s because he’s so far off in his own need to make you cum that everything else is blurred out.

Your walls start tightening around him now, and he knows you’re cumming when you throw your head back with a cry. He almost bursts inside you at that moment. He feels like something more than human, like only the most divine of beings should be able to see things like this. He burns the image in his mind.

“Where can I cum?” he asks, jackhammering into you as he chases his high. You’re whimpering from the overstimulation, but Kai thinks you can take it for just a few more moments.

“A-anywhere,” you stutter out. For the first time, Kai thinks you look breakable. He has a scary thought of wanting to ruin you.

“Inside you?” he asks, coming down to mouth at your neck. You whimper when he bottoms out again and grinds against you.

“Wherever you want,” you say.

Fuck. It’s that same second he spills inside you, almost as if your words were what allowed him to cum. He groans into your shoulder, hands squeezing at your flesh while your cunt milks him dry. He will never get closer to heaven than this.

He’s not sure how many minutes have passed by the time he’s picking himself back up, hovering over you, still sheathed inside your walls. All he knows is that you look even more beautiful now than you have before, and the urge to confess his love to you falls over him once again.

“Is this gonna change things?” Kai asks. He hopes you say yes. He hopes he made you see him in a new light, that you suddenly realized he’s the man of your dreams and you need him to be with you forever.

“No,” you answer, running your fingers through his hair. “But we probably will fuck again. That was mind-blowing.”

Kai’s still a little too hazy to process that. “Alright,” he says. He collapses back down on you, figuring he would take advantage of the moment and hold you like this a little longer.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Admittedly, Kai didn’t think this through very well. He’s pacing around his bedroom, going on and on to Yeonjun about how much he messed up and how scared he is to see you again. Yeonjun lays on Kai’s bed, much more relaxed than Kai is.

“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal,” Yeonjun says. Kai can’t believe how he can be so casual about this. “You can still tell her how you feel.”

“No I can’t! I should have told her before we had sex, this is a nightmare!” Kai holds his head in his hands, trying to keep it from exploding. The amount of stress he feels right now is probably enough to guarantee him heart problems later in life.

“She won’t care, dude. Just tell her you choked,” Yeonjun reassures. It does very little to comfort Kai, though.

“I’m not gonna tell her. I don’t think I can.”

“Yes you can. If you don’t tell her, I’ll ask her out myself.” Kai’s not sure if Yeonjun’s threat is legit, but it strikes a bit of fear in his heart anyway.

“I’ll tell her in, like, a month. That’s enough time, right?”

“Why not tomorrow?” Yeonjun counters.

“Are you crazy?! We had sex two days ago! If I tell her tomorrow, I’m gonna look pussy-whipped!”

Yeonjun laughs, “Well…”

Kai rolls his eyes. “Shut up. I’m not telling her until next month.”

“You’re just gonna push that date back over and over again. Get it over with sooner, that way you don’t have to worry about it all the time,” Yeonjun explains.

“You don’t get it. This is hard for me. Have you even been in love before?” Kai asks, pausing in front of the bed so he can look Yeonjun in the eye when he answers.

“I guess not,” Yeonjun says, shrugging like he doesn’t see how that would matter. “You know I give good advice about dating, though. I can look at it objectively because I’ve never been in love.”

Kai doesn’t have a response to that—not because Yeonjun’s right, but because he thinks Yeonjun’s reasoning is so ridiculous. Yeonjun doesn’t understand what it’s like to feel even a quarter of the yearning Kai holds for you. He doesn’t know a fraction of the fear of losing you.

Yeonjun starts up again, “You’re seeing her tomorrow anyway, so you might as well.”

Kai shakes his head. “I can’t. I can barely handle seeing her tomorrow as is.”

Yeonjun sits up, clearly taking the conversation more seriously now. “Why though? You act like you’re so doomed, but I guarantee you that hooking up once isn’t something to cry about.”

“That’s the problem, it wasn’t just a hook up for me. I will never be the fucking same again. I literally can’t move on.” Mild irritation laces all of Kai’s words.

“Then take a step back and chill out. The more you stress about this, the worse you’re going to make things,” Yeonjun says. He still sounds so unphased about it all. Kai wishes he could make him see how pressing this really is, how this actually feels like life or death for him.

“How am I gonna take a step back when I see her and talk to her all the time?” Kai asks. That’s just scratching the surface; he doesn’t even mention how his every thought goes back to you, how everything in the world reminds him of you one way or another. His devotion toward you feels like it’s embedded in his bones, like it’s part of his wiring. There is no him without an undying love for you—the two cannot be separated.

“I don’t know, dude. I don’t wanna sound like a dick, but if you don’t want my help, figure it out on your own,” Yeonjun says, exhausted.

Equally exhausted, Kai sinks down the wall until he’s sat on the floor. “Let’s just stop talking about this for now,” Kai sighs out.

It’s quiet in the room for a minute as the tension slowly dissipates. Then, Yeonjun chimes in again with a five-star idea: “Wanna get drinks?”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Kai thought he’d be too scared to see you today, but he proves himself to be horribly wrong. As soon as you call him telling him to come over, the only anxiety he feels is in the form of antsiness to see you again. He doesn’t waste a second before driving to your apartment. He could walk, but that would just be more time lost.

He realizes the moment he walks into your bedroom that maybe he shouldn’t have been so careless before coming here.

Your eyes fall to his shirt. “Is that One Direction?”

“No.” He looks down at his shirt only to see the five boy band members staring back at him. He looks back at you, hopefully concealing the fear he feels from his face. “Yes.”

You laugh. Oh god, do you think he’s a loser?

“It’s my sister’s shirt,” he explains quickly. “It was too big for her, so she gave it to me.”

“Please go out in public wearing that,” you say. “I’ll literally treat you to lunch right now.”

Kai feels his face flushing in embarrassment. “I don’t even like One Direction!”

“You do now! I think I’m in the mood for a discography dive, actually,” you laugh. Kai hides his face in his hands as he trudges his way over to you, falling backward onto your bed. He feels your hand run through his hair as your laughter dies down.

“Do you have any of my sweatshirts here?” Kai asks, even though he knows you do.

“Nooooo, I don’t want you taking those from me,” you whine.

“You’ll get it back, I just don’t want to go out like this.” You pout at him before getting up and rummaging through your closet. You throw a sweatshirt at him when you find one, and Kai is quick to throw it on once it lands in his lap.

“It feels like a crime for you to be covering them up,” you say, brushing your hand over where One Direction’s faces once were.

“It would feel like more of a crime letting people think I’m a modern-day Directioner.” Kai relishes in the way you laugh at that.

“You’d be such a Niall girl,” you say with an amused glint in your eye.

“I don’t even know which one Niall is.”

“He’s”—

“And I’d like to keep it that way,” he cuts you off.

“Fine. No one ever wants to talk One Direction with me anyway.”

Kai laughs, and he’s a little starstruck by how pretty you look when you smile at him like this. “Where do you wanna go today?” he asks, changing the conversation.

You shrug. “We can just drive to the city and see what’s around,” you offer.

“Do you wanna just head out now then?”

“Let me get ready and then we can,” you say, getting off the bed.

It’s a miracle how normal Kai’s been able to act so far. He still looks away when you change your clothes, wanting to be respectful, but he wonders if there’s even a point to it anymore. His face heats up when he thinks about how you said you’ll probably have sex with him again.

Yeonjun’s words from yesterday come back to Kai, how he seemed so confident that Kai should confess to you today. For a second, he considers it. Yeonjun’s so much better with girls than Kai is, it would probably be stupid to not take his advice. But then Kai remembers that there’s no stakes when Yeonjun talks to girls; he doesn’t go after his best friend like Kai does, he goes after random girls at random parties that he’ll never see again.

For Kai’s own good, and for the sake of your friendship, he can’t tell you today. Even if it means swallowing down his compliments when you come to him all ready to go. Even if it means staying silent while being at risk of going into cardiac arrest, heart beating rapidly from how pretty you look in the passenger seat of his car.

Kai makes the mistake of letting you control the music on the ride there. He conveys his disappointment with a single glance to you when he hears you play What Makes You Beautiful. You’re grinning so hard that your cheeks must hurt, but your joy is contagious, and Kai finds himself smiling against his will.

“What? It’s your favorite band!” you tease. You turn up the volume as the chorus hits, singing the lyrics to him. Kai can’t help but laugh. He might have to buy a hundred more stupid t-shirts if this is what he’ll get every time.

Once you arrive downtown, Kai walks with you as you look for an intriguing store. He usually lets you pick out what shops you enter, but he catches sight of a building that calls out to him. “Let’s go here,” Kai suggests, motioning toward the sign on the store.

“Palm reading? Since when did you get so spiritual?” you ask.

Kai looks at you for a second, admiring your smile. “I just think it might be fun,” he says. “You don’t like it?”

You shrug. “I’m just not super into it. I’m down to watch you get your palm read, though.”

The shop is typical for a spirituality store—there’s crystals, tarot cards, incense, and everything else Kai usually sees at these places. He walks to the woman managing the register at the back, eyeing the board behind her that displays their services.

“Oh wow, they do mediumship here,” you say quietly as you follow behind Kai. “What the hell is an aura reading?” There’s a bit of amusement in your voice, and Kai hopes the worker doesn’t hear you.

“I don’t know, I’ve never done those,” he whispers back to you. He smiles when the woman behind the counter comes up to him, greeting her quietly.

“How can I help you?” she asks.

“Could we do one of those palm readings?” Kai says, pointing up at the text on the board describing the palm reading service.

“Just that? Would you like me to look at anything else?”

“Just the palm reading,” Kai answers. The woman calls out another worker to watch the store, then directs you and Kai to a room at the back.

“Oh, this room is tiny. It’s like a closet,” you say with a laugh, and Kai hopes the woman knows that you say this with no malice. She motions for the two of you to take a seat at the small table in the room. The chairs aren’t very comfortable—they’re pretty hard, and they squeak when you both sit in them, but Kai thinks of it as another charm to the place.

There’s a lot of unlit candles in the room, and the light instead comes from a lamp that stands in the corner of the room, casting the room in a yellowish glow. Spiritual posters line the walls, as well as shelves that hold huge crystals and other trinkets Kai doesn’t quite recognize. He looks to you for a second, to which you return his glance with a smile and a raise of your brows. His heart races a little, sickly sweet feelings for you rising in his stomach.

“Would you hold out your hands?” the woman says, and Kai immediately places his hands palm-up on top of the table. He suddenly feels nervous, as if he’s baring something as sacred as his soul rather than just his skin.

He’s not sure what he wants to hear today. He hasn’t done anything like this before, but the worker seems nice enough. Kai doesn’t know how to tell if someone is the real deal or not when it comes to spiritual stuff, but he trusts this woman’s vibes. She’s funky, in a good way.

He wonders if palm readings can say anything about love. With you right here, perhaps it’s better if he doesn’t ask.

The worker hums as she assesses Kai’s hands. He can feel them starting to get clammy from the nerves, antsy to just hear whatever she has to say. He hopes he doesn’t have bad fortunes.

The woman rests her thumb over a deep line that runs across Kai’s palm. “Your life line is very pronounced.”

Kai blinks at her. “What does that mean?”

She runs her finger over the full line. “It’s a long, deep line. Usually that means you’re energetic, and you’ll have a successful life. You might be good at sports too.”

You laugh beside him, and if his hands weren’t busy getting read by this lady he would’ve used them to shove you. “Please don’t mind her,” he says, feeling his face heat up.

“There’s just the capacity for you to be good at sports. And it doesn’t have to be a very physical sport,” she continues. Great—your laughter made the palm reader start scrambling for an explanation. She thinks he’s unathletic now.

“I am good at sports,” Kai says, feeling like he has to prove himself. “I like working out.”

“Yesss, and he loves bowling,” you add.

“What? She just made that up,” Kai defends. “I don’t like bowling.”

“He was a pro bowler in high school.”

“No. You’re a pro liar.” Kai is also failing to see why you find it important to sell this lie to the palm reader. He’s lucky enough that the reader doesn’t seem to pay any mind to your antics.

“You seem to have a lot of emotions,” she says, finger lying on one of the other prominent lines in Kai’s palm. He sees you smirking in his peripheral, and he tries his very best to ignore it. “Do you usually repress what you feel?”

Oh gosh. He makes a point to not look at you, but the first thing he thinks of is how he’s been holding in his feelings for you for years. He’s been bottling that up for a while—a lot of other emotions, too, but namely that one.

“Sometimes, yeah,” he answers with a nod, hoping his voice didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

“All the time,” you correct. “He rarely opens up.”

The palm reader hums in acknowledgement. “I can see that. You might want to work on expressing your emotions more. It’s not good to let everything sit in your body.” She looks him dead in the eye to make her point. Kai nods and gulps, feeling a little intimidated.

The reader releases Kai’s hands and turns her face to you. “Would you like a reading?” she asks. You wave your hand in denial.

“I’m alright, thank you. Hey, you got him dead on, though. Congrats,” you say, smiling at the lady and getting out of your chair.

“Thank you,” Kai says, fishing his wallet from his pants. “How much is this?”

“Ten dollars,” the woman answers, taking the cash from Kai when he hands it to her. He runs over to where you stand at the door, waiting for him with a smile. The moment the two of you step foot out of the building, you’re already going on about how fake and scammy this gig is.

“That lady was so full of shit. I could probably do this job. It was actually meant for me cause I love to lie,” you say. You stop walking and turn to face Kai. “Here, give me your hand.”

He hesitates for a second and braces himself for whatever insane story you’re about to come up with.

“Oh yeah, fingertips of a bowler,” you start. You cackle when Kai immediately tries yanking his hand from yours at that, but you keep a solid grip on his wrist. You trace over a line in his palm. “This one means you like long walks on the beach. And this one means you want to go back to the car and give me head.”

His interest is piqued. “For real?”

You drop his hand. “Yeah, says exactly that. That’ll be ten bucks.”

“I can think of a better way to pay you,” he says, unable to contain his grin. He takes your hand and speeds to his car. He doesn’t really care how desperate it makes him look. You’re giggling the whole way there, and the noise just goes straight to his cock. Maybe he is pussy-whipped.

He urges you into the backseat as soon as you make it to the car, getting in behind you and slamming the door shut, too eager to get his hands on you. Your smile doesn’t leave your face when he leans in to kiss you, but that doesn’t stop him at all. He cradles your jaw in his hand, keeping your face connected to his as he works his lips against yours.

“Hope no one catches us,” you giggle, only pulling away long enough to say that before being taken by Kai’s kiss again. Kai doesn’t let your words get to him; he’s too horny to think about anything besides boning you anyway.

Kai hovers over you, and there’s not much space in the backseat of his car, but he’ll sure as hell make it work if it means getting his face between your thighs. He wastes no time pulling down your jeans and your panties, yanking off your top and bra too so that you lay fully nude beneath him.

His eyes scan your body hungrily, taking in your skin at its most vulnerable. “You’re pretty,” he says as his hands find your tits, squeezing them and listening to you sigh at the feeling.

“J-just pretty?” you tease.

“And sexy,” Kai says, lowering his mouth to your nipple, sucking it until he hears you whimper. “And so gorgeous,” he adds before moving to your other nipple. He’s greedy—he wants all your pleasure to be his own, for you to only associate sex and satisfaction with him.

You gasp and arch into him. Kai catches your movement, holding your back to keep you pressed close to him as he continues showing you how beautiful he thinks you are. He could spend lifetimes doing this. He was made to worship you.

Your hand curls in his hair, and Kai wonders if you could cum like this, just from some nipple stimulation. With the way you’re panting and moaning into the air, he thinks you might. He’ll have to try that someday. Today, it’s not enough. Today, he craves you more carnally. He starts dragging his lips down your body, trying not to smile in satisfaction when your breath hitches.

He brings his head between your legs, staring at you with intensity blazing in his eyes. He wonders if your skin is buzzing too. He wonders if you’ve never felt more alive than now, just like him.

“Can I?” he asks, gently maneuvering your legs to rest over his shoulders.

You lean up on your elbows to watch. “Mhm,” you hum with a small smile.

He can’t be bothered to tease you—it would probably be more torturous for him than you, anyway. He dives in right away, bringing his tongue to your folds and tightening his hold on your thighs. He can’t count how many times he’s jerked off to the thought of this. He doesn’t even care that he’s cramped in the tight space of his car, all he cares about is that he finally knows how you taste.

His tongue swirls at your clit, gliding along the bud with determination. He’s dying to feel your legs clamp around his head. He wants to be suffocating, to feel the air slowly leave him as he laps at your pussy. He grunts against you, moving down to tongue at your entrance.

He presses his face further into you, aching to get closer than what’s physically possible. He curls his tongue up inside you, huffing out a laugh when your thighs jolt at the sensation. He repeats the motion until he hears your moans get high-pitched and breathy, and he feels like he’s on top of the world. Nothing could be better than this.

Your hands grab at his hair, desperate and shaking and so needy, and he can’t help but feel the urge to take care of you. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?” you ask, sounding all worked up. Kai thinks it’s very cute. He doesn’t answer, of course—he’s a little preoccupied.

Your words motivate him to go further, lapping at you with more fervor. His brain turns to mush, reduced to primal instinct that begs you to cum all over his tongue. He grips onto you tighter when your hips start running away, not letting you escape him. You whine out as he mouths at your pussy; it’s filthy and messy, but Kai couldn’t imagine a more perfect way to have you.

“Kai—Kai! Like that, shit, you’re so fucking good.” Your legs start closing around his head, and Kai thanks the universe for putting him in this position. You twitch and gasp as you get closer and closer to your climax, hands tightening in Kai’s hair.

He’s feral now, and his vision might be blacking out, but he fucking loves this. He doesn’t stop or slow down, and the payoff comes in the form of his name tumbling from your lips as you finally cum. He can’t get enough, continuing to lap at you even as you try to tug him away.

“I’m sensitive!” you yelp when he comes up to your clit, taking it between his lips and sucking until you cry. He doesn’t do it to be mean, he’s just so crazy about you. He wants you to cum over and over again, but you keep trying to pull him away, so he finally lets up.

He comes up to you for a kiss, taking your hand to hold it as he pants into your mouth. He doesn’t care about catching his breath. He doesn’t want to waste time on insignificant things like taking in air. He only wants to breathe you in, to be overwhelmed with the way you take over his senses.

Your free hand clumsily tries to push his pants down, and he resorts to helping you out after a few failed attempts. He doesn’t separate from the kiss for a second as he gets his cock out, lining it up to your entrance needily. He pumps his shaft in his hand as he sticks his tip in, eating up your moans as they pass from your mouth into his.

Maybe he’s too in his head, but this feels like more than sex between two friends. This feels too transformative to be anything casual. He pushes in further, breaking from the kiss to watch your face as he bottoms out. He brushes your hair back, then lets his hand rest on your cheek. His thumb rests over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. You have beautiful lips.

He pushes his thumb into your mouth the same moment he starts thrusting inside you. He feels the vibrations of your moans as he fucks into you, groaning at the way you clench around him.

“You take me so well,” Kai grunts out, pushing his thumb down on your tongue so your mouth opens up. You look like a wet dream. He brings his other hand to your breasts, playing with your nipples. You mewl, and he finally takes his thumb from your mouth so he can kiss you again.

It doesn’t take long for him to feel ready to burst. He pinches your clit, trying to bring you to the edge with him. You tug his hair, pulling his face away so you can stare into his eyes as you get closer to cumming.

“Cum inside me,” you urge, sliding your hand down from his hair to his neck. You hold his throat in a possessive grasp, and Kai almost sees God in that moment. His hips buck into you faster, motivated by your fingers slowly tightening around him.

Kai bottoms out and bursts inside you with a moan, letting your walls squeeze around him and milk his cock. He moves his fingers over your clit rapidly until he feels you convulsing around his shaft; his head spins from both the noises you make as you orgasm and your hand around his neck.

You finally let go, and Kai gasps for air, leaning his head down into your shoulder as he rides out the last of your highs. He runs his hands all over your body, cherishing the feel of your bare flesh. He licks the skin at your neck and shoulder mindlessly, still foggy from how turned on he is.

He pulls out after a minute, pulling his head from your shoulder so he can watch the way his cum drips out of you. He grins at the sight, and he knows it’s perverted and gross, but he loves the way it spills out. He can’t have his cum dripping onto his car seats, though, so he has to put your panties back on and make sure your cunt keeps it all in.

“How you feeling?” you ask, still laying down and catching your breath.

“Good. That was so good,” Kai breathes out, staring at your lips, then your eyes.

You smile at him. “Is that all you want to say?” you ask.

No, it’s not. He wants to say he loves you. He wants to say that this means more to him than you know. He wants your lips beyond these slivers of moments, he wants your body beyond these hookups. Do you know that? Do you know he wants to say all that?

He grabs your hand and laces his fingers between yours. The lines embedded in his palms spell out a path that was fated for loving you. He’s more sure of this now than ever before. There’s his answer.

“That’s all,” Kai says.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“I don’t get it,” Yeonjun says. “Why’d you hook up with her again if it fucked you up so bad last time?”

Kai sighs, “Cause I’m stupid. I don’t know.”

Kai’s not sure how debriefing with Yeonjun after hanging out with you became such common practice, but it at least offers him some sort of reprieve from suffering alone. Now he doesn’t have to mope around crying about his lost chances with you. They’re sitting in Yeonjun’s car in the corner of some parking lot, since Yeonjun didn’t want to just hang out at Kai’s place again.

“Are you ever gonna confess?” Yeonjun asks. He sounds like he lost hope in Kai.

“Yes, I am,” Kai says, not knowing how to bare himself to Yeonjun like this. “Just not yet.”

“Mhm,” he gives an unconvincing hum.

“I am,” Kai insists.

“When? Ten years from now, when she’s already settled down without you?” That pisses Kai off a little, but he doesn’t let it show. Yeonjun continues, “Listen, dude. For your own sake—and for mine, at this point—just tell her you love her. And not in a month. Tell her today.”

“I’m not seeing her today,” Kai reasons.

Yeonjun puts the car in drive. “Yes you are.”

“Oh my god, you’re not taking me to her place,” Kai says, but Yeonjun’s already pulling out of the parking lot and heading out. Kai’s eyes go wide. “You’re not.”

“I am.” What the hell?! Kai’s not ready for this! You don’t even know he’s coming over!

“I don’t know what to say!” he exclaims, starting to panic.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yeonjun says.

“I just saw her yesterday! You’re making me look desperate!”

“You are desperate,” Yeonjun laughs. Kai doesn’t find it funny. Kai can’t really find anything funny right now.

“I can’t do it. I’m not doing it.”

Yeonjun doesn’t even respond; he just keeps his eyes on the road and continues on the route to your apartment. Kai’s getting flashbacks to when he first tried confessing to you. That was around a week ago now, and look where that attempt got him. He's more pathetic than he was before.

Of course he wants to tell you how he feels. It’s not like Kai wants to be such a coward about this, but the fear of you rejecting him and scaring you off forever is mortifying. Yeonjun doesn’t understand how paralyzing that idea is. There would be no kind of hurt stronger than the one of you turning Kai away. He knows he can’t make you love him, and while he would simply die to have his feelings be reciprocated, he can’t force it onto you.

Yeonjun’s approaching your street now, and Kai has never felt closer to death in his life. There’s no chance he’s getting out of Yeonjun’s car. He’ll rot away here in the passenger seat before he confesses to you.

Yeonjun turns to Kai when he parks by your apartment complex. He raises an eyebrow when Kai doesn’t make a move to get out of the car.

“I’m too scared. I can’t,” Kai says, sounding completely sure of this.

Yeonjun’s quiet for a few seconds, pursing his lips in thought as he decides on what to say. “How much do you love her?” he asks.

This is a stupid question. “You know how much. It kills me how much.”

“So act like it. Pick yourself up and go to her like a man. Quit ruining your own life—she’s not gonna want some bum who can’t even work up enough courage to say he loves her,” Yeonjun says, and his words are harsh, but they strike some kind of determination in Kai. “Dude, I don’t know any guy who deserves her more than you. You’re the best. I mean it. You gotta go get her.”

Kai’s palms are sweating and his heart is racing, but there’s a fire lit beneath him now. Yeonjun’s right. Even if it’s the end of all things, Kai has to tell you his feelings.

Yeonjun continues, “Do it. It’s not as bad as you think. You have to do it.”

Kai finally opens the car door, and he can feel the adrenaline rushing through his body. “I’m gonna call you later,” Kai says before shutting the door. He hears Yeonjun cheer him on as he walks off, letting his feet lead him to your door.

It all feels too familiar when Kai’s standing at your doorstep. He has no script this time. He couldn’t begin to try and conjure one up—his nerves are making him jittery and scatterbrained. There’s no backing out this time. Yeonjun’s words ring in Kai’s mind. He has to do it.

“Oh, hey,” you say when you open the door. Kai steps inside and gathers his breath. “Did something happen?” you ask.

You stare at him with concern, and he figures it must be because he’s visibly anxious. He tries to get himself together, straightening his posture and breathing slower.

“No, not really,” he answers.

“You look like you’re ready to pass out.” You glance at your living room. “Did you want to sit down?”

“No,” he says, then musters up whatever courage he has to grab your hands. He clutches onto them desperately, as if you ground him, as if you remind him to be brave. “I just want to tell you something.”

Your eyes dart between his like you’re trying to find his words before he can say them. “What is it?” you ask.

Kai’s whole world has been building up to this moment. It’s finally time. He breaks the dam open, letting his vulnerability loose.

“I love you.” His heart hammers against his chest.

“I know,” you say.

“No, like—I love you,” he emphasizes, squeezing your hands.

You smile. It’s breathtaking. “I know. Yeonjun told me.”

Yeonjun—what?!

“Are you kidding me?!” Kai forgets everything else he wanted to say in his horror. That fucking asshole, he’s dead! Kai can’t believe this! He doesn’t even know why he’s surprised; this is such a Yeonjun thing to do. “When did he tell you?!”

You laugh like this is all so funny, meanwhile Kai’s world is crumbling down. “The day before we first hooked up,” you answer.

No fucking way.

“You knew this whole time?” Kai asks.

“Yup,” you confirm.

“Why did he tell you?”

“In case you pussied out. Which you did,” you answer. “And because he knew I’m in love with you too.”

Kai doesn’t quite process what he heard. “Huh?”

You grin and roll your eyes, and then you’re pulling Kai’s face in so you can kiss him. His head spins. He’ll wake up any second now. Your lips feel very real, though, and far beyond what his dreams could conjure up. They’re soft and sweet and just as delicious as he remembers.

You pull away. “I love you too,” you say. “You should be my boyfriend.”

Kai’s in disbelief. You love him—the words echo in his mind on a constant loop. He can’t think about anything else; all he can do is pull you back in for another kiss and make it count. This is your first kiss officially together, after all.

“You should’ve asked me before,” Kai breathes out, holding your face dearly. “You knew I would’ve said yes.”

You giggle, “I like the chase.”

The world around him fades away as Kai devotes his full attention to you. Nothing else in the universe could mean more than this moment. You drag him to your bedroom, and he follows eagerly, grinning victoriously the whole time.

“I can’t believe it took you so long to finally say it,” you tease as you push him onto your bed, straddling him and resting your hands on his chest. “Or that I had to hear it from Yeonjun first, a week before I heard it from you.”

“He fucking sucks for that,” Kai says with a little laugh. He holds no real malice toward Yeonjun, but he will definitely be having a word with him later. Honestly, Kai couldn’t even be mad if he tried right now. With you smiling like this on top of him and Kai finally being able to call you his, nothing could bring him down.

You bring Kai’s face to yours for a quick kiss, then you pull away to throw off your shirt. “Let’s make it feel like the first time,” you say, lifting off of him to take off your bottoms.

“It always does with you,” Kai says sweetly as he pulls his own pants and boxers down. You spit in your hand and bring it to his cock, pumping him quickly to get him fully hard. You bite your lip as you twist your hand over him, earning a choked out moan from Kai. He brings his hand to your folds, rubbing at your slit with just as much fervor.

“Do you want me to ride you?” you ask, a little out of breath from Kai’s hands on you. His head nearly explodes at the thought of you riding him. He wants you to do whatever you want. He wants you to use his dick to make yourself cum ten times over, if that’s what you’d like.

“Yeah, fuck, come fuck me,” Kai begs just as breathlessly. He places his hands on your hips while you position his tip to your entrance. You have fun with it, sliding the head of his cock through your folds until Kai starts whining.

You grab his face so he’ll look at you when you start sinking down on him, and the eye contact is so intense, but Kai doesn’t dare look away. He lets you dip two fingers past his lips, and he sucks them diligently, moaning around them when you sink down on his cock all the way.

You grind against him, slow and sensual, while Kai swirls his tongue around your digits. He wants you to feel his devotion. He wants his love to be so apparent that you could never doubt it. His insides are lit aflame with desire, a need to be claimed by you. You don’t know it, but you’ve carved your name into his soul. He’s eternally yours.

“I love you,” you whisper. You put your body to work, keeping all the passion and sensuality in the moment as you start riding him. Kai gasps, and you pull your fingers from his mouth, bringing them to your own to suck his saliva off of them. The act is so dirty, but it makes Kai’s dick twitch inside you.

“I love you too,” he whimpers. You take your saliva-coated fingers to your clit and rub it as you hasten the pace of your hips. His hands find your tits, squeezing the flesh and thumbing at your nipples. Your mouth drops open, and your eyes fall to Kai’s lips. He smiles as he leans in, kissing you and capturing all your moans.

He holds onto your hip so he can buck up into you, trying to get you both to your orgasms. “Cum with me,” you breathe into his mouth. You don’t have to tell him twice.

He bottoms out and releases inside you, cock twitching as his seed spurts out. You’re cumming right along with him, legs trembling and hands clutching onto Kai to keep yourself up. He watches your stomach tense up as you ride out your high. You’re the hottest sight to be seen.

Kai feels euphoric, like the world has blessed him to be the luckiest man on earth. The happiness bubbling inside him makes him feel like he could explode. He’s all giggles and stupid little smiles, peppering your face with kisses.

“I can’t believe this is real. Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he says, staring at you like you’re something precious.

“This didn’t feel real to you?” you ask, rolling your hips over him. He’s sensitive, and the motion makes him jolt. You laugh and pull yourself off of him.

“I’m ridiculously in love with you. I wish I had the words to tell you how much,” Kai professes.

“What a shame. I would’ve loved to hear it.” You peck the tip of his nose.

If that’s a challenge to get Kai to try, he gladly accepts. “I never believed in destiny until I fell in love with you. I don’t think a love this strong existed anywhere else, I think I’m the first person to love someone this hard.”

Kai will dedicate his every next breath to you. He’s yearned and longed for years, with a force much stronger than a human heart has. Feelings like this are bigger than life itself; they’re bigger than celestial bodies, bigger than metaphysical concepts. Feelings like this haven’t yet been given words to describe them.

He feels like a winner when he sees you fluster at his words—getting you to blush is not an easy feat. You look away shyly, but your lips are tilted up in a cute smile.

“Well, I love you too,” you say. Kai doesn’t need the fancy words from you; this much is more than enough. He steals a kiss from you once more.

Kai doesn’t forget to call Yeonjun when he gets the chance, figuring he should still have a word with him. It goes to voicemail. That’s fine. He leaves a very kind message for his friend to find when he decides to check his phone.

“You’re seriously the worst. You’re unbelievable. Call me back when you can, you’re gonna want to hear this.”

notes: ahhhhhh what do we think?? 🙈🙈 i’m issuing a formal apology to the one direction fans and haters who had to sit through the 1d bit. extra apology to niall girls. i also apologize to the bowling community. contrary to what this fic may imply i really do respect you guys. lmfao i hope you enjoyed this! always happy to hear ur thoughts :)

taglist: @dawngyu @fancypeacepersona @hyukarma @kveclair @mental-hollows @moaadiry 🤍

© delugyu 2025, do not translate or reupload

[hardbeingcasual]

“waiting for you, to tie my shoes.”

tie my shoes nat scatorccio fem reader

♪ tie my shoes, beabadoobee

this is how tomorrow moves masterlist

masterlist / yellowjackets masterlist

about. you love natalie, but you aren’t sure if she loves you back

warnings. blood, death, angst, sadness yellowjackets spoilers (for season three episode six)

Just by looking at her you knew you were in love.

You thought at first that you only liked her because you were stranded in the wilderness and she was the only one who had seemed to catch your eye, but it turned out to be more than that. You love everything about Natalie Scatorccio.

You loved her dyed blonde hair that was slowly turning brunette again.

You loved the curve of her lips that you wanted to kiss so badly.

You loved everything about her. You realised eventually that you loved her even way before the crash, you just didn’t realise it.

You caught yourself getting flustered just by her presence. When her eyes locked with yours you felt like your entire body was on fire.

When she was passing out orders to the other yellowjackets her eyes would meet yours, and you swore you felt something pass between the two of you. But that faded away when Natalie looked the other way, not noticing your saddened expression as she made herself busy with a task.

You hoped that maybe, just maybe that she felt the same, that she wanted her lips on yours —

“Hey,” You snapped out of your trance to see Melissa stood in front of you, you almost rolled your eyes but didn’t because you didn’t want Shauna to cut your limbs off. “Natalie put you on Coach Scott duty.” You raised your eyebrow at her words.

“Why me?” You ask.

Melissa shrugs, “She probably trusts you more than anyone else.” She said casually, not waiting for your reply as she walked away. You stare at her retreating figure, her words passing through your head.

Natalie trusted you?

You shake off any of those thoughts, stopping yourself from getting distracted as you make your way over to where Coach currently was, with the animals.

He scoffs when he sees you instead of Natalie.

You lean down to his level, holding a plate of food.

“You have to eat, Coach.” You push the plate on the ground towards him, urging him to eat it, but he just pushes it away.

He ignores your words, “Nat sent you, huh?”

You hesitantly nod, “I don’t want you to die, Coach.” You push the plate back to him, “Eat.” You say more strictly this time.

You go to walk away but Coach stops you in your tracks. “You need to tell her how you feel.” You turn back around to look at him.

You act clueless, but you knew exactly what he was on about. “What are you talking about?” You ask, exasperated.

He rolls his eyes, “You know exactly who I’m talking about,” He then says your name. “She needs you more than ever right now.”

You frown at his words as you walk back over to him, now sitting in front of him again. “How do you know?” You ask shyly, looking around as if everyone was listening in, but no one was and they wouldn’t be able to anyway considering you were both speaking at a quiet level.

“It’s obvious” He says your name again, “I’ve seen it before all of this. As your coach, nothing goes unnoticed.” You swallow the lump in your throat as you stand up again, walking away without a word. You were overwhelmed with what he said. Was it that obvious? Did everyone else notice it?

Coach was dead by the hands of Natalie.

You couldn’t bring yourself to feel sad. All you felt was sorrow for Natalie. You knew her and Coach were close.

The rest of the Yellowjackets were shouting at her, mostly the shouting being Misty, but she seemed so out of it. Coach’s blood on her face as she stares off. She ignores the shouts of the rest of the team and simply walks into where she slept in the camp.

You hesitated to follow her, not sure if she wanted the company but you followed her anyway. She needed assurance that not everyone was mad at her.

Firstly you grabbed a small bucket of water and a cloth, before walking to the ‘door’ of where Natalie

currently was, knocking quietly on the side of it.

She looks up, dazed before sighing. “If you’re here to yell at me, I don’t wanna hear it.” She told you.

You shake your head, “I’m not here to do that.” You assured softly as you hesitated to sit in front of her, placing the bucket and cloth next to you. You look at her hands and her bloodied face as you grab the cloth and dip it in the water. “Can I?” You asked, not wanting to push boundaries. She nodded, her eyes foggy.

Natalie watches you as you take her hand in yours, gliding the cloth along it, cleaning her hands, but no matter how much you cleaned them her hands will never be clean. Coach’s blood will always be on them.

You then move to her face, hesitating once again as you dab the wet cloth on her face, one hand holding the material and the other holding her chin. You didn’t notice her breath hitch as you did this, considering your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.

You get Coach’s blood off of her face, muttering, “All done.” You go to move backwards, giving her personal space back but Nat didn’t seem to want that. She grabs your hands with her hands that were previously bloody, and pulls you back closer.

She whispered a small thank you, you felt her breath on your face due to your close proximity. You almost never heard her due to your heartbeat in your ears.

The blood rushed to your cheeks, as you both stared into eachothers eyes, waiting on who was going to make the first move.

Natalie makes the first move, she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen in your face.

She then bumps her nose with yours, her watery eyes looking into yours as if she was asking if you wanted this. You nodded slightly, Natalie wasting no time to meet your lips, you tasted her salty tears that were now streaming down her face.

You pull back slowly, Nat tries to chase your lips but you put your hands on her face, wiping the stray tears from her cheeks. “Are you okay?” You ask, concern etched on your features.

Her eyes meet yours, her lip trembling as more tears find their way down her cheeks. She shakes her head as she shakily manages to reply to you. “No, but I will be.” Her hands find yours on her face, closing her eyes at your touch.

#NOTES

sorry if this isnt great but i wanted to write for yellowjackets 🙏

please do not repost my work

[harkharknessness]

lucid

summary: In which you keep a journal for writing down all kinds of dreams—including the dirty ones starring a particular blue-eyed professor. What happens when it goes missing?

relationship: Agatha/afab Reader

notes: mention of semi-public sex, smoking, mention of oral sex (R receiving), anxious spiral (R receiving lol), no pronouns used but afab Reader, there's a first-person journal entry but the action of the story is 2nd person POV

word count: 3.7k (ao3)

November 12 It started at a bar. 

The place was like a mix of The Hex and Señor S’s, but with the kind of finishing touches that made everything feel dreamy and just a little uncanny.

Wanda was there with me, for a while anyway. It didn’t seem like we’d been there very long before Viz turned up, and then they disappeared. Hardly anyone else was around, so I started walking home.

I had only walked a block away when she pulled up next to me and rolled the window down. “You look like you need a ride.”

I gave her a grin and a shrug. “I’m fine.”

She tilted her head, looked me up and down, and it was like I could feel her gaze on my skin. “You shouldn’t be out alone like this.”

“I’m not that drunk.” And I hadn’t felt like it. Not until that moment.

Her quick laugh told me she didn’t believe me. She reached over then to pop the passenger side door. “Get in.” 

So I did.

I barely heard anything she said during the drive. All I could see were her hands—the veins and the rings and the forearms that were exposed by the rolled-up sleeves of her blazer. And then there was her tongue pressing against her cheek. The smell of her perfume. Just her being there. Dizzying.

She somehow knew which building to go to, even though I hadn’t said a single intelligible sentence.

When she parked in the spot furthest from the door, I turned to her. “Well..." I wanted to stall, to find a way to stay, but wasn't sure how. “Thanks, I guess.” 

The corners of her mouth just barely curved upward, as if smiling were just another obligation. I got out of the car without another glance. I knew if I looked back—if I saw her start driving away—I’d have to follow.

I was a few steps from the car when I heard her door close behind me. I couldn’t help but turn back.

“Are you coming in?” 

She laughed again but said nothing, then lit a cigarette and leaned against the hood of the car.

I stood for a minute, half considering, half just stuck, before I walked back to lean beside her. 

It started small—arms brushing, fingers twitching toward each other. When I wrapped her hand in both of mine and kissed the back of her palm, then her knuckles, she barely moved, still staring off into the tree line. It was only when I swirled my tongue around the tip of her thumb that she turned her head, just enough to watch out of the corner of her eye. She still had the cigarette in her other hand, raising it up for a drag now and then, seemingly unfazed. 

It was hours (or maybe just a few seconds) later when she finished her cigarette. She stomped it into the asphalt with her loafer, and then—without warning—pinned me to the hood of the car.

I was suddenly, unmistakably, sober. 

She was so close, but she wasn’t moving closer; she was just standing there, lips fractions of an inch away, so I closed the rest of the distance myself. It felt like forever that we kissed, the lingering scent of tobacco coming back into focus every time we broke for air, tangled with the dark notes of her perfume.

She pulled away, fingers brushing my jaw, almost gentle, and that felt like the end. Like she was going to get back into her car and leave without another word. I needed to find something to keep her there, to keep her with me.

But then she locked eyes with me, asking a question that I somehow knew how to answer without words. I watched her sink down to her knees in front of me on the pavement, then felt her fingertips, warm against my stomach as she unbuttoned my jeans and tugged them down, then off. My legs started shaking, but it wasn't clear whether it was due to the cool air or anticipation or both.

She ran a hand along my calf, then up my thigh until she could surely feel the molten heat between them. She wore a smirk the whole time, knowing it was all for her. 

When she finally hitched my leg over her shoulder and started to dip her tongue inside… 

I woke up. Of course. And late, too.

So now I’m just sitting here in class, trying to act normal—like I didn’t just write about my professor getting me off in my dreams. 

If she looks at me today, I’ll probably combust.

———————————

You finished scribbling the last words of the entry and then closed your notebook. 

It was nothing special at first glance—just a spiral-bound book that you’d bought for a science lab a while back, which you’d ended up dropping. So it sat in your closet, holding just a few pages’ worth of lab notes, until the day you decided you were going to keep a dream journal. 

You thought it was clever, really. It just looked like a class notebook. Someone would have to get a few pages deep before they found anything even mildly interesting.

By now, it was nearly full, a couple semesters’ worth of your nighttime imaginings scrawled between college-ruled lines. You could tell which entries you’d written after waking up in the middle of the night—shorter, sloppier, ending abruptly when you couldn’t fight the pull of sleep any longer—and which ones you’d taken more time to flesh out in the early morning sunlight. 

It had started as a silly exercise inspired by one of your gen ed psych courses—what could you really learn about yourself from the imagery in your dreams? At this point, though, it was more of a habit than an exercise in personality analysis. 

Besides, you weren’t sure you really wanted to analyze the way the contents of your dreams had… shifted over time. 

You went from building fantasy lands to scenes that were much more explicit. Sometimes they felt real—real enough that you’d wake up sweaty and heaving and desperate for a touch you’d never felt. And sometimes, they felt real enough that you’d wake up reaching for someone who had never been there.

It wasn’t hard to pinpoint when it all started: at the beginning of the current semester, when you ended up in Dr. Agatha Harkness’s class. The same class you were sitting in at that very moment.

At the front of the room, Professor Harkness was going over the answers to the last quiz, a quiz that you’d aced (or as close to it as one could in a Harkness course). Other students were scratching notes into their own notebooks, except for the guy who was watching a soccer game on his laptop a few seats over and up from you, the sound just a little too loud and spilling from his earbuds. The heater hummed steadily overhead, bringing the room up to “uncomfortably warm” status, but it was better than the alternative.

In other words, there was just enough background activity and just little enough actual information flowing that you didn’t feel too guilty about how you’d spent the first few minutes of class. Since you had woken up late, you didn’t have time to write in your dorm, but if you waited until after class, you’d have forgotten most of what you’d dreamed. So you brought the journal with you, trying to forget how close she was as you recalled the events of the evening.

“All right, that’s enough of that. If you have any questions about your grade, see me after class,” Professor Harkness said, shuffling papers around on the podium without looking up. “As for today, we’re going to be talking about—”

You hurried to swap out your journal for your actual class notes, flipping to the first clean page and clicking your pen into position, ready for the first slide.

The discarded notebook lay half-in and half-out of your tote bag in the empty seat next to you. 

You didn’t notice as, over the next fifty minutes, it inched toward the edge of the half-folded seat until it finally slipped through the crack and landed silently on the floor below.

When class was dismissed, you slipped your things into your bag and stood from your chair, the seat grazing your legs as it sprang back into position. As you walked out of the lecture hall, you were careful to avoid Professor Harkness’s gaze. You may have sat through that whole lecture with perfect focus, but that didn’t mean you’d forgotten what you were writing about at the beginning of the hour.

You went about the rest of the day like any other—you attended your second class, grabbed lunch with Wanda and made plans for that night (Thursdays were basically Fridays thanks to some creative scheduling), and then went to the library to get a head start on next week’s readings. 

By the time 7:00 rolled around, you were back in your dorm getting ready to go out. Your outfit was strangely similar to what you’d worn in your latest dream… 

You shook off the thought, and left to go meet Wanda at the campus gates.

———————————

You barely remembered crashing into your bed several hours later when you woke up the next morning, brought back to consciousness by the bright light filtering in through the windows. 

That was the only nice thing about the morning—the sunlight—and even it wasn’t so great. Everything else felt awful: your head was pounding, your stomach was ready to rebel at the slightest wrong move, and your mouth was so dry that you were mildly convinced that you could swallow sandpaper and not even notice a difference.

Unsurprisingly, you only had the fuzziest recollection of whatever it was you dreamed about last night. You knew you’d had one, but it was hard to picture the specifics. 

After some negotiating with your protesting body, you decided to write about the dream anyway; maybe more details would come as you went. Or maybe they wouldn’t, and you’d just have some hungover ramblings to look back on someday. It wouldn’t be the first time.

You reached behind you to your desk, where you usually had your journal set for easy access, but your heart rate sped up a bit when your fingers brushed only against the wood of the desktop.

You checked in the space between the desk and the bed; you dumped out your tote bag; you searched through the contents of the bookshelf, your clothes hamper, your closet, hoping maybe, in your alcohol-induced haze, you’d put it somewhere unexpected. You looked everywhere. But it wasn’t there.

That’s when the panic truly settled in. If that journal wasn’t in your room, that meant it was out there somewhere, just waiting for someone to pick it up and read some of your filthiest thoughts.

You threw on the nearest clothes you could find—jeans and a sweatshirt—and left the dorm in a hurry, intent to trace your path all over campus yesterday, starting in the lecture hall.

A few hours later, you’d searched your classrooms, the dining hall, and your favorite floor of the library from top to bottom. You’d checked the lost and found in every building you entered yesterday, and in some that you didn’t. You’d even called Wanda to see if maybe she’d somehow picked up the notebook at lunch yesterday. She hadn’t.

You considered heading back over to the bar, the anxiety and paranoia holding strong, but you knew you hadn’t taken anything larger than your phone out last night. You’d be an even bigger fool than you already felt to have taken that notebook somewhere you intended to get drunk off your ass.

So instead, you went back to your room, fell backwards onto the bed, and stared blankly at the ceiling. 

The journal was gone. 

Best case scenario: a facilities worker had picked it up and just hadn’t taken it to the lost and found yet. 

Worst case scenario: someone you never even met was scanning the whole thing, ready to post it online and force you into your own version of the witness protection program.

And all you could do was wait to see if it would turn up, one way or another.

———————————

The weekend passed, and the notebook hadn’t turned up.

Despite your resignation to just wait and see if the journal would turn up after Friday’s search, you spent hours retracing your steps across campus on both Saturday and Sunday, searching classrooms and revisiting the lost and founds. Maybe you’d missed it, or maybe someone had turned it in since you last checked—but you’d never had that kind of luck.

You could at least console yourself with the fact that no one was using it for blackmail or public humiliation… at least, not yet.

By the time you settled into your senior seminar on Monday afternoon, you’d truly given up hope of finding it untouched, unread. Now it felt like the best you could hope for was that it just vanished and you’d never see or hear about it again. 

You couldn’t help but feel on edge, though, bracing for the worst. Paying attention to anything else felt impossible—not the lecture you’d sat through earlier that morning, not Wanda’s stories from her weekend escapades with Viz, and certainly not your classmates’ half-baked thesis ideas. 

Your mind was with that book, wherever it was.

You hadn’t started a new one yet. Not because you were expecting the other one back, and not because you were hesitant to put your dreams on paper again (though you were). 

You just hadn’t been dreaming. 

No vivid memories or even hazy fragments greeted you when you woke from tossing and turning all night long. There was just exhaustion and a fresh wave of anxiety.

On Tuesday morning, you were back in Professor Harkness’s class, sitting in your usual seat. 

Your notes were open, your pen was in hand, but you weren’t really taking anything in. You were only catching every other sentence, and, when you looked up at the screen, you’d make it to the end of each bulleted point only to realize you hadn’t understood any of what you’d read.

By the time Professor Harkness dismissed the class, you hadn’t even written out half a page, and that was going to hurt later. Maybe you could get someone to let you borrow their notes before the next exam.

You gathered your things, preparing to head off to your next class, when you heard Professor Harkness call out your name. 

Your stomach twisted.

“Yes?” you said, looking up at the podium, trying to look like you weren’t suddenly a little bit terrified.

Her icy blue eyes locked onto yours. “Stay after.”

You nodded but quickly looked away to shove the last of your things into your bag.

This had to be a coincidence. She probably just wanted to hand back the draft of the paper you’d dropped off at office hours last week or something. There was no reason for your throat to be so tight or for the cold sweat that had broken out on the back of your neck.

You stood and walked toward the front of the room, fidgeting absentmindedly with the straps of your tote bag all the way. 

Professor Harkness waited until the last student left the room before stepping toward you from her spot at the podium. She wasn’t so close that it was unprofessional, but close enough that you could still smell her perfume.

You cleared your throat, an attempt to distract yourself more than anything. “Is there something you needed, Professor?”

She gave you a quick, assessing look. “You seemed a little preoccupied today.” Her voice was even—not concerned, but not disinterested. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly—too quickly—forcing on a shaky smile. “It’s just that time of the semester.”

“Of course,” she said. She didn’t sound convinced. 

For a moment she just looked at you, as if pretending to consider her next move. Then she pulled out the stack of papers that had been tucked under her arm. 

On top: an all-too-familiar navy blue notebook.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Shit.

She picked it up, turning it over once to look at the back cover, before holding it out in the space between you. “I believe this belongs to you.” 

You swallowed, but it did nothing to clear the lump in your throat. When you tried to speak a broken “Where—?” was all you could get out.

“I walk around the room after each class. Make sure no one left anything behind.” She shrugged, casual, unbothered. “Once in a while, I find something interesting.”

You blinked once. Twice.

In all of your worst-case scenarios, you’d never once considered that she might be the one to find it.

In another universe, you could maybe have played this cool. Shrugged it off, collected the journal and went on your way, assuming she’d just glanced inside for a name.

But in this universe, your face was hot, and the tips of your ears were burning under the heat of her gaze. You may as well have had GUILTY written across your forehead. If she hadn’t read it, you were revealing something just by standing there looking the way you did. And if she had read it? If she knew exactly what you’d written in those pages?

Her expression was perfectly neutral; you couldn’t tell what she’d seen, if anything at all, and that was almost worse than knowing. Knowing would mean resolution. Knowing would mean knowing what you needed to do next.

Not knowing, though, meant you were still scrambling for solutions to every possible scenario. Including the very worst.

Oh, God. 

You were going to have to rip that book to shreds. Burn it. Bury the ashes. And after that, you were going to have to drop her class. You were going to take your first “W” on your transcript because you couldn’t keep your wet dreams to yourself. And… could she report you for this? Could you be expelled?

You’d been silent for at least a full minute, maybe longer, and you’d made no move to actually take the journal from her outstretched hand. She waved it a bit, trying to catch your attention, a barely-there smirk and an expectantly raised eyebrow on her face.

“Sorry,” you muttered, hardly loud enough for yourself to hear. You took the notebook and blindly stuffed it into your bag, like if you didn't look at it, it would just disappear (and with any luck, take you with it).

“You should be more careful,” she said, nodding toward your bag. "Anyone could have found that.”

You couldn’t trust yourself to form actual words, so you answered with what might generously be called a hum of agreement. But it was really just a whimper.

“Well,” she said with a soft chuckle when it became painfully obvious that you weren’t going to say anything more. “I’ll see you on Thursday, then.”

Your eyes snapped up, meeting hers for the first time since before she confirmed your worst nightmare had come to life. “For what?”

She raised both of her eyebrows, like it was obvious. “My class.”

“Oh,” you said, but the words did nothing to slow your racing pulse. “Right.”

She looked at you for one last, long moment, eyes alight with something—amusement maybe—before speaking again. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said as she stepped around you. 

You turned to look over your shoulder as she began walking up and down the rows of seats, as if proving a point. 

“If I find anything else of yours,” she was walking away from you as she said it, but her voice was still clear as could be. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Heat climbed back up and settled in your cheeks. You had to get out of there.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, almost positive she didn’t hear it, before making a beeline for the exit. Once you were safely in the hallway, the door swung shut behind you, sealing away the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

You had another class starting in ten minutes, but you weren’t even thinking about going anymore. Your feet were already steering you back to the dorm as your thoughts raced.

Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought. Had you actually used her name anywhere? Certainly not in anything recent. These days, “she” could only mean one person. And besides, maybe your descriptions were generic enough that it could’ve been another professor. There had to be at least a dozen other middle-aged female professors with dark hair and blue eyes on campus. But you hadn’t been in any of those other professors’ classes last Thursday, the day you had explicitly written that you were in class while making the entry.

You had been in hers.

When you got back to your room, you reached into your bag and pulled out the notebook before letting the tote and the rest of its contents fall to the tile with a thud.

You just stared at the thing for a moment. Did you really want to know if you’d written anything inside that would’ve given you away? Or maybe it was better to leave it unopened—at least you had it back, and there was no more damage it could do. What did it matter what was inside?

No. You had to know. If you were ever going to be able to look Agatha Harkness in the eye again… you had to.

Bracing yourself, you opened the spiral-bound notebook to a random page.

The first thing you saw wasn’t your own writing. 

It wasn’t even the doodles you sometimes made at the tops of the pages. 

It was the red ink that was filling the margins, underlining phrases, and bracketing off whole paragraphs of text.

Your stomach flipped.

She graded your dreams?

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Tails had been told he had low self-esteem more than once. 

Sometimes he’d say something and Amy would look at him with concern. Sometimes he’d make a comment and Knuckles would frown, a deep-set scowl on his face. Other times he would clench his fists and yell at Sonic, and the most important person in the world to him would just grin down at him and ruffle the fur on the top of his head. 

“Hey, watch it, that’s my friend you’re talking about.” 

And Tails could only clench his fists tighter because they didn’t understand that it wasn’t about him. 

Tails didn’t really think he was stupid. Forget stupid, he knew he was smart. Smarter than most anyone he’d ever met. But he was never smart enough to stop Sonic from getting hurt. 

It wasn’t about Tails.

It was about Sonic. 

At first, when he was younger, Tails had thought the way to help was to put himself in the line of fire so Sonic didn’t have to. It was smart. It was the logical, obvious choice, to put the small, useless two-tailed fox at risk instead of the hero hedgehog that everyone loved and relied on. Without Sonic so many people would be lost, Tails included. But He discovered very quickly that no matter how smart he tried to be, Sonic was faster. No matter how much he calculated the risks, no matter how stupid it was, Sonic always saved him. Even if it was the worst decision to make, even if it ended in Sonic with blood running down his arm, soaking into his quills like oil. And he’d never stop grinning, even when he moved Tails to the side, even when there was tension thrumming throughout his entire body and sparks coming off his quills, he always turned to give him a wink and a thumbs up to show just how fine he was. Even when he wasn't fine. Even though he was never fine. 

Tails learned quickly that Sonic would never let this small useless fox be hurt. Even if it would be something small, even if it was a papercut traded for broken arm, Sonic would take the broken bones so Tails didn’t have to take the small, painful, insignificant papercut. 

And Tails could not do anything about it, too slow, too weak… 

“I’m useless.” 

“You’re not useless,” Amy’s voice was sharp. 

Tails gripped his hands into fists and didn’t argue. She didn’t get it. She hadn’t seen it yet. Because she was strong. Strong like Sonic, strong like Knuckles. Strong so Sonic didn’t always have to save them, even if he still did, they could make sure he didn’t get hurt so much. 

But Tails? Tails was nothing without his tech. Without his gadgets and his plane and his remote controls he was dead weight--worse than dead weight because Sonic wouldn’t get hurt for dead weight. Sonic didn’t carry dead weight, but he carried Tails. 

Sonic looked after him because Tails couldn’t look after himself. So he changed that. He carried his heavy equipment without asking Sonic for help, even swatting his hand away when he tried to grab things from him, even yelling at him when he took it speedily to the garage without his permission.

“Why are you so upset?” Sonic was almost laughing. It wasn’t funny.

“I can do it myself.” 

Sonic looked at him with eyes so bright they were starting to hurt to look at. They’d been getting brighter and brighter with every use of the chaos emeralds. Tails didn’t think anyone else had noticed. He didn’t think Sonic noticed. 

“I know you can.” 

“Then stop treating me like a baby. I can carry a screwdriver.”

Sonic scratched the back of his head, quiet private thoughts that he never voiced running through his head, his controlled smile on his face giving away not one iota of that information. “Okay.” And he was gone in a streak of blue, leaving Tails alone in his workshop. 

He stood, staring at the ground between his shoes until he’d fought off the heat in his eyes, then he moved to clean up the mess of dropped tools. 

Tails shooed Sonic away when he tried to ask about what he was inventing. He swatted his hand away when he tried to help him cook his breakfast. He glared at him when he ruffled his fur, even when he wanted to lean into it, even when he missed it after Sonic stopped doing it so often. 

This was important. This was more important than warm hugs and fur ruffles. This was more important than Tails feeling happy to have Sonic around. 

This wasn’t about Tails, this was about Sonic. 

Tails worked harder, got smarter, built bigger and better gadgets, focused more and more about where in a battle it was safe to be. He felt triumph when Sonic looked up at him with wide surprised eyes and then a grin. He hid when he cut his fingers while trying to sharpen a saw and bandaged it up in the bathroom while Sonic was out, fighting back tears so Sonic wouldn’t come running and covering the bandages a new pair of gloves. He built a ladder so he wouldn’t have to rely on sonic to get things from the top shelf. He became someone who didn’t need Sonic looking after him. 

And Sonic spent less and less time with him. 

And it scared Tails with something new, something he had hidden away, tucked in his chest and locked with terror and worry. What if Sonic decided Tails didn’t need him anymore? What if he left and never came back? 

But this wasn’t about Tails, this was about Sonic. If he had to lose him to save him he would. Because Tails wasn’t strong. He wasn’t fast, he wasn't even all that smart. He couldn’t stop Sonic from using his body to shield Tails from danger. He couldn’t force him to take care of himself, he couldn’t ask him to not be himself, to not be the hero for once, it was who Sonic was. 

But Tails could stay out of the way. Tails could invent and invent until his gloves were ripped and stained and there were dark circles under his eyes. Tails could leave Sonic behind in a collapsing tunnel. Tails could grab everyone else and get out of the way so Sonic didn’t have anyone to jump in the way for. Tails could save himself. 

It was small, useless, practically nothing, but he did it. He did it no matter how scared he was leaving Sonic behind in the midst of a battle, he did it no matter how others asked him how it was possible that he wasn’t worried for Sonic’s safety--he was, he was--he still did it. 

Because Tails realized very quickly that saving himself was the only way he could save Sonic.

Yes im thinking about Sonic being the source of most of Tails issues. Not on purpose but just because of who he inescapably is. Yes im thinking about Sonic being so dedicated to making sure Tails never has to worry over him or feel afraid that he won't bounce back being so focused on smiling through everything and anything that he becomes unreachable. Yes im thinking about Tails needing so desperately to be self sufficent because he knows Sonic wants to adventure to run headfirst into danger and Tails needs to be capable and smart so he can be there with him he needs to be brave and mature so Sonic doesn't have to worry about him and can focus on looking after himself and most importantly he needs to not be a burden because Sonic loves running more than anything he loves being free and Tails needs to make sure he never ever slows him down because what if he cant keep up and Sonic runs away and never comes back?

So Tails expresses concern for Sonic after a rough battle and Sonic brushes it off with a grin despite the pain in his side. Sonic reaches to pass Tails something he can't reach and Tails swats his hand aside saying he can get it himself even if it's something so small and simple to have let Sonic pass him the screwdriver. Even if admitting he'd gotten nicked by that last laser would have been easier than wrapping up his side in a cave where no one could see. They've gotta let each other know they're untouchable and they don't need each other. So they won't worry. So they'll know they're okay. So they'll be safe. So he'll stay.

[f4ggydog]

need nat to breed and baby trap me as i beg for her to stop

minors/dark content haters dni (also listen to bizarre love triangle by new order) (it has no bearing or connection to the story this is how I’m gonna promote music to u hahaahahahah)

“Nat please no,” you cry out, your hands gripping the sides of the hut. You’re nervous that its unsteadiness will make the hut collapse. Scratch that. That should be the least of your fucking worries. I mean, what about Nat penetrating you when you clearly aren’t interested? Well, one more problem to pile on top.

Your issues seemed to be an inconvenience to Natalie though. She doesn’t stop. And she laughs at your pleas for mercy as if you’re putting together one big prank.

“Sorry babydoll,” Nat snickers. “You can’t look that good and expect me not to act on my urges. I mean, you're basically asking for it. Look at you.”

“I’m not asking for anything, Natalie! Let me the fuck go!”

“Don’t get mean with me bitch,” Nat snarls, digging his heel onto your head. Your face was now firmly planted into the floor as Nat’s cock pumped out of your warm, trembling hole. “I’ll smack you around like a little piñata.”

“I’m gonna tell the others,” you threaten. “They’re all gonna know.”

“You think anyone’s gonna believe you, you stupid whore?” Nat scoffs, balls slapping against your ass. “My cum’s going in you, whether you like it or not. So quit your fucking whining and show me a smile.”

Okay, not working. Maybe the reasoning route will suffice. “Nat, don’t cum in me. H-How are we gonna raise a kid out here!? This is absurd!”

“We’ll find a way,” Nat chuckles. “I don’t know how, but we’ll figure something out. It’s your baby after all, not mine.”

“You’re the one putting it in me!” You scream, feeling Nat coming close to riding his peak. “Fuck you!”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Nat curses. “I’m about to cum, and you’re gonna take all of it! Every drop! No complaining, no whining, no more hooting and hollering. Just take it like the dumb whore you are.”

You see no more reason to protest as Nat empties her balls inside of you. Cum rushes into your pussy, completely coating it with white. You lay down as Nat pumps and pumps until she’s sure she’s got no drops left. You’re accepting your fate. You’re not proud of it, but it’s too late now.

(Why the fuck did I make nat so mean in this? Oh well I hope u enjoy whoever asked!)

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina,

I wanted to send you a message in the midst of all this madness to tell you my back story in the hope that it’ll cheer you up or at least remind you how important you are.

So back in 2021 I saw that Harry Styles was cast in DWD and that he was dating OW. I remember thinking “how strange”. Why would a 26 year old date his boss who’s a mother a two. But I also remembered that Harry had a reputation of dating older women. Then I watched all the drama unfold: Florence clearly not liking him, spitgate and him seemly ignoring OW (his gf) at the premiere. I couldn’t make any sense of it. All of that coupled with the Vanity Fair cover where he’s in that beautiful dress but in the article he talks about clothes being “fun” and not that serious. He also said that he has never publicly dated anyone (while publicly dating OW). Again I could not make head nor tail of it. The only thing I could come up with was that Harry Styles was a privileged asshole.

But at the same time I watched some of his LOT concerts and he was completely different. So kind, So caring to his fans and providing a safe space to the queer community. This confused me even more. Was he playing both sides? I remember saying to a friend at the time that whatever Harry was selling I was not buying. His whole image just left me scratching my head.

Anyway fast forward to October last year and Liam’s passing. His death really saddened me because I had a friend who died in similar circumstances. So I looked up stuff on Liam which brought me to 1D which brought me here to your blog.

The biggest shock for me, by far, in all of this is not that Harry and Louis are/ were together. I kind of remember that rumour doing the rounds years ago. The biggest shock by far is how Harry’s image has been sabotaged since the age of 16 by his management and the media. Now I know that Harry is sweetheart, a good person who was used and abused by the music industry. But it wasn’t until I found your blog and did my research that I finally saw the truth.

So I want to remind you that the work that you do here (along with others) is important. And that you are appreciated. This is not about proving that two men are together. This is about how two teenagers were treated horribly in the music industry (and how it was been detrimental to their lives) and how the GP is blind to it.

I was playing pool with my 15 nephew the other day and he randomly started to sing Sweet Creature. I said “Oh you’re a Harry Styles fan? Me too”. And he said “I like his music but I don’t think I’m a fan of his”. When I asked him why not he just shrugged his shoulders. And that broke my heart because I could see that he was having the same issue with Harry’s image as I was in 2021/ 22.

Anyway I’ll leave it there because this has turned into an essay!! But I hope you realise how important you are to the community but more importantly to Harry and Louis. If I came across your blog I’m sure they have too x

🥹 honestly, I think this is the crux of why I’m still here. I hate what’s become of their images and how the public has this awful perception of who they are. It makes me so happy to know that there are still people out there who are willing to dig deeper and look beyond that public narrative. And if me/my blog helps in some little way, that makes all this nonsense worth putting up with. ❤️

[p1astr81]

a dream p4

in which: Oscar makes his dream a reality.

pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

warnings: bit of angst😨, that’s it

an: this is lowkey a day late sorry about that guys

previous part

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

Six dates and the title of “girlfriend” all in the span of two months.

You couldn’t believe it. You thought your luck was astronomical. I mean, a formula one driver going for the barista that works for his team? It’s the stuff of fantasies.

Oscar couldn’t believe it either, but for different reasons. After that dream, he thought he’d never see you again. But he did, and it’s safe to say that if he didn’t believe in fate before, he definitely does now.

If he had it his way, you’d already be engaged. He was aware that it was far too soon, though.

The both of you opted out of telling anyone. Prying questions and the eyes of the media were something neither of you desired. It was just you and him.

You didn’t feel like a secret because it’s not like he avoided you.

He continued to visit you in the cafe, just standing and talking to you while you worked. And he requested that you shared a hotel room. So while you didn’t tell anyone, you were sure at least a few people have figured it out already.

There were three races left in the year, and while on break one afternoon, a familiar driver came up to you.

Not your driver, though.

Lando sat across from you. “You’re dating Oscar.” It wasn’t a statement, nor a question, but an accusation.

Your brows furrowed. “Yes.” Your eyes darted around the room.

“Huh.” Lando hummed, an epiphany. “So many things make sense now.”

You tilt your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Leaning back, Lando propped a leg up on the chair and hummed. “Well, for starters, you’re exactly how he described you were in his dream. And now it makes sense why he’s been so giddy. And he’s been-“

“Wait, what? What dream?” You leaned forward.

Lando froze.

“What are you talking about?” You urged.

He remained silent, looking like a little kid with his hand caught in a cookie jar.

The lack of response had your heart dropped to your stomach, your face gone white. You stood quickly, making a beeline for Oscar’s driver room. Lando called after you, but you didn’t hear his words.

A gasp ripped from Oscar lungs when the door hit the wall. You closed it and leaned your back against it. “What dream is Norris talking about?”

Oscar goes white, then a deep shade of red.

And you finally take note that he’s only half dressed. He’s shirtless. In the middle of dressing. Your eyes linger, shamelessly checking out his toned chest. You snap your eyes up once you realize, swallowing.

“Uhm, well, don’t hate me.” His fingers fumbled to get his fireproofs on. “Will you sit down please.” He gestured to the small bench.

Eyeing him with suspicion, you complied and he joined you.

“Do you remember that first day in the cafe?” He appeared calm, but the nervous air around him shattered the delusion.

The memory alone caused you to have to fight back a laugh. “When you looked like a lost little kid? Yeah.”

He gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah. Well,” he struggled to find his words. “That night before, I had a dream. I was married and had two kids.”

You furrowed your brows.

“With you.” He explained.

You blinked, eyes falling to the floor.

Oscar continued to explain. “And- and you know I- uh- I loved you in- uh- well not just in my dream.” He placed a hand on the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I’m saying.” He confessed with a sigh.

“So you’re saying you only asked me out because of a dream you had?”

The tone of your voice startled him. You sounded hurt, or maybe even offended. He didn’t know what to say. How to fix it.

“Would you have even looked in my direction otherwise?” You continued.

No. He supposed he wouldn’t have.

You scoffed a laugh. “This is built on a fucking dream? What if I’m not like the girl in your dreams? What if I don’t live up to her standards?”

Panic set in, and he began to scramble for the words to soothe your own worries. “No. Well, I guess it is in a way?” He didn’t want to lie. He shook his head. “And does it matter? You’re exactly like you were in my dream. A carbon copy.”

You got to your feet, frustration coming to a boiling point. “Yes of course it matters! Because you don’t like me. You didn’t fall for me. You fell for some made-up fantasy version of me.”

How was he to reply to that? You weren’t fully wrong, but you weren’t also totally right. He sighed. “I know it was wrong not to tell you, but I didn’t want to seem like a total creep. I’m so sorry.” He fumbled on his words once more. “And for what it’s worth, I have really fallen for you.” He confessed quietly.

His big, doe eyes stared up at you, shining with regret and begging for you to accept his apology. Your frustration faltered.

You huffed. “Fine.” You threw yourself back on the cushioned bench. You stared ahead at the blank wall, trying to ignore how Oscar continued to look at you. “Sorry for getting mad at you over something so stupid.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” His soft voice consoled you, while he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you to his side.

“You’re too damn nice. And cute. It’s not fair.” You mumbled.

Oscar just chuckled and squeezed your arm.

۶ৎ

5 YEARS LATER

“Dadda!” The three year old Victoria slipped from your grasp and sprinted over to Oscar.

With Jace on your hip, you couldn’t chase after her. “Vik! Careful!”

Oscar had not see her speeding toward him, too focused on the video currently being shot for McLaren’s socials.

She collided with his leg, gripping onto it for dear life. “Momma said you won!” She shouted.

A nervous smile is all he could manage. “I did.” He tried to laugh. “Where is your mom?”

Vicky whipped around. “Shes-! Oh.” Her big, innocent brown eyes looked up at Oscar. “I don’t know.”

You emerge from a crowd of people, looking very nervous and apologetic.

Oscar placed kisses on both the twin’s heads. It was strange. He never mentioned the names of your children in his dream. You were the one to suggest them, unprovoked, like it was written in the stars, a prophecy that was meant to come true. Of course, he agreed right away.

While he thought about the crazy coincidence, you started to ramble. “I’m sorry. She got away from me. I tried to chase her but Jace was on my hip and he didn’t want to get down and-“

“Baby, it’s fine.” Oscar chuckled, his hand rubbing Vicky’s back. “We’ll just edit it out. It’s no big deal. I was just making sure she didn’t run off fully.”

You nodded, but he could still tell you felt guilty. He pulled you into a short hug. “Get back to the hotel and put the kids down for a nap, yeah?” He suggested. “I’ll be back in a bit and then we can go to dinner.”

You smiled and kissed his cheek. “Congrats on your win.” You muttered.

“Ugchl! Ew mommy!” Vicky shouted, causing Jace to laugh at her.

You kissed him again just to hear her squeals of anguish.

“Don’t worry about dinner, go celebrate. You deserve it.” You told him.

He scrunched his nose, a look which tells you he isn’t fond of your idea. “Dinner sounds like a perfect way to celebrate.” He grinned, the apples of his cheeks became more prominent. You wanted to pinch them. Or kiss them.

You chose the latter and received another disgusted noise from Vicky, who had clung onto your hand at some point in the last few moments. “I’ll see you then, I guess.”

It was inexplicable, the ounces of love that swam through the reflection of his eyes. As if you were the only wonder of his world. He hummed. “I guess so.”

[revelboo]

You got me missing LL and Earthspark Screamer 😭😭 you've got so many ideasss!!! I'm jelly

you're giving us straight up gourmet meals 🤤🤤

Sure 🤣 I’m having fun playing with scenarios and characters. Also: Blokees wave 7 renders

I need them both so bad… And there should be another Insecticon in this next batch, too since all of the Constructicons are out

Disaster Hearts Pt 4

ES Starscream x Reader

• Why is it that your heart beats faster watching him smile like that? When he’s genuinely excited about something not acting superior or sneering at you, his alien face is almost handsome. Almost unsettlingly human. Maybe it’s that under the excitement, it’s that he’s just trying to go home and you understand that. “We could go check it out,” you say and those blue optics flick from the map to you and you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Probably dismissing your offer. It’s not like you can actually help him that much and you shouldn’t even want to. Should be plotting your escape, because his drama and problems are definitely not yours. He’d snatched you.

• We. How long has it been since there’d been a we instead of just him? The other two Seekers stranded here help him occasionally out of a sense of obligation to their own, but they don’t like him. Don’t trust him anymore than he trusts them. But you? You’re no threat to him, too weak, too helpless to harm him. To cause trouble. He’d taken you on impulse because he’d been lonely, wanted someone to rant to, to talk to. Had imagined he’d get it out of his system and discard you, making sure you couldn’t tell anyone what he’d told you. But you’re still here. Still alive because he missed having someone to talk to more than he’ll ever admit. And if nothing else, he can send you out to scout ahead of him and make sure the tunnel system is safe. “Perhaps.”

• He’s still staring at you and you can’t figure out what he’s thinking from his expression. Pensive and almost speculative, but the way he’s studying you makes your skin prickle. Reminds you of your kid brother asking for a magnifying glass only to immediately go torch some helpless ants. “What will you do once you get back home?” You ask, hoping to distract him from wherever his processor has gone and his wings flick slightly. “To your world.”

• Spark aching, he wonders if there is a home to return to. Their war had ravaged their world, most of the cities razed in the bombings. Some of them carried out by his own hands. He’d been the one advising Megatron on high priority targets to cripple the Senate and Cybertron’s infrastructure. And it hurts remembering that for a short time they’d been almost equals. Almost friends. Working together toward a common purpose at the start of the war. Himself, Megatron, Soundwave, and Shockwave forming the core of the Decepticon movement. So sure the war would be over quickly, the Senate destroyed and replaced by something better, less corrupt and broken. “Rebuild, I suppose.”

• Voice almost melancholy, he vents and taps a servo on his desk before he’s reaching for you and you flinch. Surprised when his servos brush over your head, touching your hair gently. Looking up, those pretty optics are unfocused as he absently rubs the pad of a servo against your jaw and neck. And you don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it, petting you in gentle strokes. Afraid to say something that might snap him out of whatever trance he’s in because this is the gentlest he’s been with you since kidnapping you and you don’t know what to make of it.

Previous

[holylulusworld]

Indifferent (8)

Summary: Your father wanted a bond between you and the Barnes Empire. No matter what.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Characters: Captain Syverson

Warnings: arranged marriage, angst, arguments, mafia au, strong reader, jealousy, language, mentions of domestic violence/slight violence against Bucky  

Catch up here: Indifferent (7)

Indifferent Masterlist

Bucky Barnes walks around town, searching, sniffing to find any trace of you, his wife. He’s not going to let you get away with divorcing him. No way. If anyone ends this marriage, it’s him, not you.

“Fucking brat,” he grits his teeth as he follows one of your friends into a bookstore. “I’ll find her and spank her ass until she can’t sit properly. No one plays with James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Dude, are you okay?” A young boy watches Bucky pace back and forth at the bookstore. “Are you having a heart attack?”

“What?” Bucky is about to get his gun out to shoot the young man when Steve enters the bookstore. “I’ll show you a heart attack!”

“Buck, she’s not here.” Steve places his hand on Bucky’s shoulder to calm his friend. “Let’s go back home. Maybe your mother knows more. We could call her.”

“You’ll keep my mother out of this,” Bucky yells. “If she knows Y/N left me, I’m done for. Winnifred Barnes is unforgivable when it comes to Y/N. My wife sneaked her way into my mother’s heart.”

“Fine. If you say so.” Steve shrugs. “You can just keep on following that woman around town. That’s not even one of Y/N’s friends.”

“No… She was at my home once.” Bucky cocks his head to glance at the woman he was following around town. “I’m sure about it.”

“Buck, you met her friends once, and that’s none of them.” Steve points at the woman. “She looks a little like Cassie, but that’s not her.”

“You know their name?” Bucky furrows his brows. “Why do you know my wife’s friend’s name?”

“I’m paying attention,” Steve bites back, smirking. “She introduced herself when coming to your house. Don’t you remember one of them?”

Bucky huffs and says, “I don’t have time to remember her little friends. I have a business to run and keep my people safe. I’m not a fucking car dealer or shit.”

Steve scoffs but doesn’t say a thing. It’s useless. His friend is out of blood. Bucky won’t give up before he finds you. Steve only hopes he’ll be by his side to stop Bucky from doing anything stupid.

While Bucky gets his phone out to check on his notes, Steve looks around the bookstore. He nods at your friend, silently telling her to leave the bookstore, before Bucky realizes his friend lied to him.

“Alright. She likes books, flowers, and this stupid little café in town. Let’s go there next,” Bucky recites all the things he found out about you. “I don’t think she’s stupid enough to go to that masseur bitch again.”

“Flowers and books, huh?” Steve teases. He watches his friend scowl but doesn’t mind. Steve has known Bucky all his life and how to react to Bucky’s antics. “You did a good job stalking your wife.”

“I was being attentive, punk.” Bucky snaps at his friend. “Do you want to come with me now, or do you have something more interesting going on?”

“I’ll come with you,” Steve replies. “If only to make sure you won’t kill anyone.”

“Have you seen my wife?” Bucky snaps his fingers in front of the barista at your favorite café. “Hello! Did you hear me?”

“Sir, I must ask you to not snap your fingers at me,” she replies, not afraid of Bucky. The barista handles aggressive and annoying customers every day. “I have not seen the woman in the picture. I don’t know her.”

“Buck, I think they have hundreds of customers every day. You cannot expect them to remember your wife,” Steve tries to be the voice of reason and calm his friend once again. “We should have a break and reconsider your decision to hunt your wife down. All this time, you told her that you don’t want to be married to her. What has changed your mind?”

Bucky narrows his eyes. He tries to find an answer, but he can’t. Steve has a point. For all the time he’s been married to you, Bucky didn’t want you. Now he’s following your trail like a lovesick puppy.

Did he change his mind? Does he even want you back? Why now?

“What will you do when we find her, Buck? You can’t drag her back home like some caveman. If you want Y/N to come back, you should have a plan. Let’s not hurry things. Your wife deserves more than an angry husband. Show her respect and maybe buy some flowers.”

Bucky’s features darken. “That little brat will regret leaving me. She’s mine to tame, to spank, and to—” He clears his throat. “But you’re not wrong. Let’s have a coffee and plan how to get her back.”

Outside of town, you’re still hiding in the hotel room. Sy wouldn’t leave you out of sight for longer than a few minutes. He left his dog with you when leaving the room. 

Today he went out, leaving his dog with you. “Aika, do you think we can trust Sy?” You quirk a brow as the dog jumps onto the bed to lie next to you. “I always trusted him, but he was one of my father’s men not so long ago. And he hid things from me…like everyone else.”

You shake your head. Sy was nothing but loyal and kind to you. Not only over the last days, but for all the years he has been in your life.

For once, you’ll give a man the benefit of the doubt…

[finchyclarkemd]

Shielded Hearts

~Angst/fluff~

George had always loved the way you were so quietly observant, your eyes catching details that others missed, your presence calm and gentle. But tonight, as the laughter and chatter of his friends filled the air, he noticed something different about you. You weren’t speaking as much, your usual easy smile replaced by a tight-lipped expression. Every time someone raised their voice or made a joke, you flinched slightly. He couldn’t quite figure out what was going on, but it made him uneasy.

He leaned in closer as the evening wore on, his gaze flicking between you and his friends, noticing how your shoulders stiffened whenever the conversation turned louder, or when his friend Harry, with his booming laugh, cracked one of his signature jokes. The change in you was subtle, but George knew you too well. You were starting to withdraw.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked quietly, his hand brushing against yours under the table. 

You gave him a soft smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you murmured, but George could tell there was something more, something you weren’t saying.

Later, as the night wound down and everyone began to leave, George walked you to the door, concern etched on his face. 

“Listen,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I get overwhelmed sometimes, when there’s too much going on, too many voices, too much energy. It’s hard for me to process everything at once.”

George paused, a sudden understanding dawning on him. You were a highly sensitive person. He’d heard of it before, but hearing it from you made it real in a way he hadn’t expected. 

“I didn’t know,” he admitted, his tone soft with regret. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head, reaching out to touch his arm. “It’s not your fault, George. It’s just how I am. I don’t want you to think that I don’t enjoy being with you or your friends. I just... need some space when it gets too much.”

He looked at you, his heart swelling with a mix of affection and guilt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise. I’ll make sure to take care of you from now on. If you need a break, just say the word. I don’t want you to feel this way, ever.”

The tenderness in his voice, the way his gaze softened with concern, made you feel understood in a way you hadn’t anticipated. But George wasn’t done yet. He took a step closer, his hands gently cupping your face as if to assure himself that you were really there, really okay. “If anyone makes you feel uncomfortable again, I’ll make sure they know not to. No one messes with you, not on my watch.”

You blinked, surprised at the sudden intensity of his protectiveness, but the warmth in his touch made you feel safer than you had in a long time. Maybe it wasn’t just about explaining yourself. Maybe, for the first time, you were truly seen.

The night air outside was cool, a soft breeze rustling the leaves overhead as George held you close, his arms a comforting weight around your shoulders. The warmth of his embrace felt like a shield against the overwhelming chaos that had surrounded you only moments before. You could feel the steadiness in him, a quiet strength that helped ground you. 

“I’ve always loved how much you care about your friends,” you said, your voice steady but still carrying a hint of vulnerability. “It’s just… sometimes I get lost in the noise of it all. And I don’t always know how to get out of it without feeling like I’m letting everyone down.”

George’s fingers gently traced along your arm, a simple gesture that was more soothing than words could express. “You never have to worry about that with me,” he said softly, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re never a burden. I’ll always take care of you, okay? No matter what.” He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. When he found none, his face softened, and a tender smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

"I want to be the one who makes you feel safe, especially when you’re feeling like this," he continued, his tone low and earnest. "If we ever go to something like that again, we’ll leave whenever you want. Or we won’t even go in the first place. It’s all about you, baby. What makes you comfortable."

You felt your heart swell, not just with affection, but with a deep sense of gratitude. It wasn’t just the reassurance, or the way his voice had grown more protective with each word—it was the sincerity in his eyes. George wasn’t just trying to fix the situation, he was trying to understand it. For the first time, you didn’t feel like you were asking too much. He truly wanted to be there for you, no matter what.

“I don’t want to ruin your nights with your friends,” you said, biting your lip nervously. “You enjoy those hangouts so much. I don’t want to be the reason you miss out on anything.”

“Hey.” George’s hands cupped your face again, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “It’s never a ruin when I’m with you. And trust me, my friends will understand. They want you to feel comfortable, too. If anything, I think they’ll respect that you told me how you feel.” He paused, his gaze softening. “You’re my priority. You come first.”

The sincerity in his words made your chest tighten with emotion. The weight of the evening, the pressure you’d been carrying around for so long, seemed to lift with every passing second as George held you. You wanted to say something, something that would fully express how much his understanding meant to you, but words seemed too small in that moment. Instead, you leaned in, your forehead resting against his, and closed your eyes, letting the silence between you speak louder than anything else.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The only sound was the gentle rhythm of your breaths, the quiet night around you, and the reassuring presence of someone who truly saw you—someone who cared more about your peace of mind than anything else. 

“I’m really lucky to have you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

George chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “No, I’m the lucky one,” he replied, pulling you closer. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re too much. You’re perfect exactly the way you are. I’ll always be here for you—quiet, loud, overwhelmed, or calm. No matter what.” 

You smiled against him, feeling the truth in his words settle deep inside you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could truly breathe, like there was nothing to hide, and everything to be shared. You knew that whatever came next, you and George would face it together.

The quiet between you lingered, a peaceful comfort settling over you both. George held you a little tighter, as if he never wanted to let go. The warmth of his embrace wrapped around you like a safe cocoon, and for once, the weight of the world outside seemed so far away. 

After a few moments, George gently pulled back, his hands still resting on your shoulders, his expression soft but searching. “So, how about we get out of here for a bit? Take a walk? Or… if you’re up for it, we can just head home. I know it’s been a lot.”

You smiled, grateful for his sensitivity, and nodded. “A walk sounds nice. Maybe we can just… talk? No loud voices, no jokes, just the two of us.”

“Just us,” George agreed, his eyes lighting up at the idea. He took your hand, his fingers weaving between yours, and led you down the steps of his apartment building and out into the cool night air. 

The streets were quiet, the usual hum of traffic muted by the late hour. You walked side by side in a comfortable silence, only the occasional soft murmur of your footsteps breaking the stillness. George kept his pace steady, making sure to stay close, his body turned toward you in a way that said he was fully present, fully there for you.

You couldn’t help but steal glances at him as you walked, noticing how his expression had softened. There was something different about him now—something protective, but also understanding in the gentlest way. It was like he’d unlocked a new level of care for you, one that wasn’t about trying to fix or change anything, but simply accepting and supporting.

“How are you feeling now?” George asked after a few minutes, his voice gentle but filled with concern. “Are you still overwhelmed, or… are you okay?”

You took a deep breath, appreciating how he didn’t rush you for an answer, how he gave you the space to feel whatever you needed to feel. “Better,” you said with a soft smile, your fingers squeezing his. “I think it just helps being away from all the noise. I can focus on you. And right now, that’s enough.”

George smiled too, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he glanced down at you. “Good,” he murmured. “I’m glad. You deserve peace. You deserve to be heard.”

There was a pause, and then you spoke again, your voice small but steady. “I’ve never really been able to talk about this before. About how things overwhelm me so easily. It’s hard to explain to people, because it feels like they don’t always get it. But with you… I don’t have to hide it.”

George’s expression softened even more, his hand brushing the back of your arm in a tender, reassuring gesture. “You don’t ever have to hide anything with me. I’m not going anywhere. You can tell me everything, and I’ll be here, no matter what.” 

You felt your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world felt impossibly small—just the two of you, walking through the streets, talking about things you’d never thought you’d be able to share. 

George stopped walking then, turning to face you, his gaze serious and full of love. “If you ever need more space—whether it’s from me, or my friends, or anything else—I want you to feel safe enough to ask. I know it’s hard for you to say sometimes, but I’ll always listen. You’re not a burden. You never will be.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away quickly, not wanting to start crying in the middle of the street, but the emotion surged within you anyway. For so long, you had carried this weight alone—trying to manage your sensitivity, your need for quiet, without ever truly explaining it to anyone. But with George, everything felt different. He didn’t just accept you; he cherished the parts of you that you thought were too much, too complicated.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

George stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your face. “You didn’t have to do anything. I just love you. All of you. Even the parts that feel too much sometimes.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped. “And I’m so glad you trust me enough to share this with me. That means everything.”

A quiet, heartfelt smile spread across your face. And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly seen—not just for your strengths, but for your vulnerabilities. You weren’t just loved despite your sensitivities—you were loved because of them. And in George’s arms, you knew that you could be exactly who you were, and that would always be enough. 

With a final squeeze of your hand, George leaned in and kissed you softly, as if to seal the promise. “Let’s just take it one step at a time. No rush. I’m right here.”

You nodded, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace. No matter what happened next, you knew you weren’t alone anymore.

A few weeks later, George invited you out again with his friends. This time, you were feeling more prepared. You had talked to George a few times since that night, and he had reassured you that he would make sure you felt comfortable. But as the evening drew closer, you felt the familiar twinge of anxiety creeping in. 

When the two of you arrived at the restaurant, the buzz of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses instantly overwhelmed you. It wasn’t just the noise; it was the energy in the room—the people, the jokes, the quick-paced exchanges. You could already feel your body tightening, your mind racing to process it all. 

George immediately noticed the shift in you. His hand found yours as soon as you stepped inside, his fingers wrapping around yours in a gentle, possessive grip. You gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice low and soft, barely audible over the chatter. “If it gets to be too much, just tell me, alright? We can leave whenever you need.”

You nodded, grateful for his words but already feeling the weight of the room pressing on you. He led you to the table, his presence close beside you as you made your way through the crowd. His friends greeted you warmly, but you couldn’t help feeling the pressure of being in a space that felt too big, too loud, too everything.

George settled next to you, his chair slightly angled toward yours, as though he was positioning himself to block out the world around you. His hand never left yours, his thumb tracing soft patterns on your palm, grounding you in the chaos.

As the evening went on, his friends grew more lively, drinks flowing and laughter echoing through the room. You could feel your anxiety building—your breath quickening with each burst of laughter, every conversation getting louder. The voices seemed to overlap, the jokes becoming faster and more intense. It was all too much. 

George, ever attuned to you, was watching closely. His gaze was unwavering as he noticed the way your shoulders stiffened, the way you tried to mask your discomfort with tight-lipped smiles. Without a word, he shifted in his seat, leaning in just a little closer, his presence like a shield between you and the rest of the world. 

One of his friends, Arthur, a bit too loud after a few drinks, raised his voice to tell a joke. The sound pierced through your mind like a hammer. You flinched, and George immediately noticed. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his jaw tightening slightly as his protective instincts kicked in.

“Arthur, can you—?” George started, his voice firm but calm. His eyes never left yours, but he turned to his friend. “Could you maybe tone it down a little? She’s not feeling great tonight.” 

Arthur, who had always been a bit oblivious to anyone else’s discomfort, blinked in surprise. “Oh, sorry, man. Didn’t realise—”

“It’s fine,” George interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. His attention was fully on you now. “I’m just saying… we need to keep it quieter for a bit, alright?”

The shift in George’s demeanour didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the group. They all fell into a quieter rhythm, clearly picking up on his protective energy. Arthur quickly apologised again, and the group settled into a more subdued conversation.

You leaned into George slightly, grateful for his intervention but also feeling a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

“No,” George’s voice was gentle but firm, his hand lifting to your cheek to brush away a stray lock of hair. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for. I want to protect you. You’re my priority.” He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes filled with such warmth that it melted away the tension inside you. “I can’t stand seeing you uncomfortable. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you feel safe.”

You felt your heart swell, not just with love but with a deep sense of relief. You didn’t have to hide how you felt, not with George. And in that moment, you realised that his protectiveness wasn’t about being controlling—it was about caring. About caring in the deepest way possible. He wanted you to feel at ease, to be comfortable in your own skin, even in places that made you feel like an outsider.

The night continued, but the energy shifted. George stayed close to you, never letting you slip into the background. When the group’s volume picked up again, he would lean in to make sure you were okay, his body language quietly commanding attention when necessary. The protective side of him—so tender, so fierce—was in full force.

At one point, as the conversation grew louder again, you felt your heart racing, and before you could even think about it, you were standing up. George immediately followed, his hand landing on your shoulder. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but with a certain weight behind it, like he was prepared to pull you away from it all if you needed him to.

You took a deep breath, giving him a small nod. “I think… I just need a minute. Sorry, I didn’t want to make a scene.”

George’s eyes softened. “You’re not making a scene, baby. You’re taking care of yourself. If you need a break, we can step outside. Or we can leave. Whatever you need.” His protective streak was clear, his concern for you outweighing anything else. “You’re not going through this alone.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling the weight of his love settle around you like a warm blanket. “Thank you,” you whispered, unable to put into words how much it meant. 

With George by your side, you knew you didn’t have to navigate this on your own. He would always be there, protecting you, supporting you, and loving you in the way you deserved. And somehow, that made the noise of the world outside seem just a little more bearable.

The night was starting to wind down, and George was still by your side, never letting go of your hand. You had stepped outside for a few minutes, taking in the cool night air, trying to clear your mind after the overwhelming intensity of the restaurant. With George's calming presence beside you, the noise of the world seemed to fade, and your racing thoughts began to settle.

“I’m sorry if I made tonight weird,” you said quietly, your voice soft in the stillness of the evening. “I just... get so overwhelmed sometimes.”

George shook his head, pulling you closer. “You never have to apologise. I just want you to feel okay. If that means we leave early, or if you need to step outside for a breather, I’m here for it. I’ll always put you first.”

His words wrapped around you like a comforting hug, making you feel safe, understood, and so incredibly cared for. You rested your head against his shoulder as you both stood on the quiet street, the hum of the city seeming far away now. 

After a few moments, you turned toward him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I think I’m ready to go home now.”

George smiled back, nodding. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

The Uber back to his apartment was peaceful, the car filled with nothing but the soft sound of the engine and the quiet rhythm of your breathing. You sat close to George, his hand resting on your thigh, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin, a silent promise that he was there with you every step of the way.

When you arrived at his place, the lights were dim, the apartment quiet and inviting. It felt like the perfect sanctuary after a night of noise and overstimulation. George closed the door behind you both and pulled you into his arms, a soft sigh escaping from his lips as he kissed your forehead.

"Let's just take it easy," he said quietly, his voice filled with tenderness. "No crowds, no loud conversations. Just you and me."

You smiled and nodded, feeling a deep sense of peace in his embrace. It was like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders, and all that mattered now was the gentle, reassuring presence of George beside you.

You both headed to the bedroom, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm, calming light. George pulled back the covers and climbed into bed first, making space for you beside him. You slipped under the blankets, settling into his arms without hesitation. His warmth surrounded you, and you relaxed into him, feeling safe and protected in a way you hadn't known you needed until now.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, his fingers gently stroking your hair. You could feel the softness of his touch, the love in every movement, and the steady assurance that you were exactly where you belonged.

"Thank you for tonight," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "For being so understanding... and for always being there for me."

George's breath was slow and even as he kissed the top of your head. "You don’t need to thank me, baby," he murmured. "You never have to apologise for how you feel. I’m here. Always."

You closed your eyes, content in the silence that enveloped the two of you. The world outside might have been chaotic, but here, in George's arms, there was only peace, only love. You felt the heaviness of the night melt away, replaced by the warmth of his embrace. 

As the minutes passed, the rhythm of his breathing began to lull you into a peaceful sleep, his presence a constant reassurance. You were home now, not just in the physical space, but in the arms of someone who truly saw you, understood you, and loved you for exactly who you were.

And in that moment, everything felt perfect.

——————————————————————————————————Finally got round to doing a request from ages ago! I’m hoping to get another George or Chris one out next week!

Tags-

@themdera

@tyna-19

[earlgreylatte]

Nocturne

(Vampire Hal Jordan x Blue Lantern Reader) You would always be at his side, he’ll make sure of that.

“Hal…”

He was used to hearing you call his name. In shock. In exasperation. In pleasure.

But now you were saying his name in trepidation, the uncertainty clear on your face, as green bindings decorated your body, keeping you immobilized.

Apart of him aches at seeing you look so scared at just the sight of him, another part of him revels the same way a wolf does in sight of its prey.

“It’s going to be okay, you know I only ever want what’s best for you. That what I do is for your own good, even if you don’t see it right now,” he reassures you, hands cradling your face, forcing you to stare into warm, brown eyes, but you can only focus on the glint of his fangs as he talked, breath hitching.

Noticing your distress, he shushes you, bordering on condescending, “I know, I know, but just think about it. Us. Forever. Young and strong. You know there’s no one out there with enough will to take our rings, it’d be a never ending adventure. We’d fly and never land again.”

He still sounded like Hal. He was still Hal, and that was the scariest part. You can only lament at how this could possibly happen to him of all people.

“And at what cost?” You ask, meeting his gaze impassively, swallowing your nerves, “Feeding on others just to survive another day? Being at the heel of some cult leader fuck? You’re better than this, Hal. We can still fix this—“

He only tuts, shaking his head, “You’re still not seeing it. The whole picture. Leave it to you to never act in your own interest, nightlight.”

You exhale shakily at the nickname, and he softens ever so slightly, placing his forehead against yours.

“I need you to trust me. Trust that I’m doing this for you, even if you hate me for it. You promised we’d never part…I’m just making sure you can stick to your word,” he says, nose brushing against yours before he kisses you, gentle and sensual, hands trailing down to caress your neck.

You close your eyes before a blue shockwave pushes him away from you. The green binds don’t waver, but you only turn your attention to his ring, rapidly augmenting the ring’s capacity, until you hear his ring issue a warning as it reaches its limit.

“Stand down, Hal, I won’t let you do whatever you want,” you declare, watching him push himself up from his fallen position. Despite your threat, he looks unbothered, languidly approaching you again.

“You won’t,” he claims, smiling.

“You’re insane,” you glare, unsurprised at his audacity despite the severity of the situation.

“Isn’t that why you fell for me?” He says confidently, “You’re not fooling anyone. You can stop. No one would blame you, least of all me. You don’t want to do this. Just let me take of everything…”

You choke out a broken laugh, eyes burning. Your ring flickers before, dimming as your efforts cease. You were never much good at poker, especially when Hal was around to call your bluffs. Your restraints tighten, forcing your legs to give out as you fall to your knees, head dropping.

Hal would never call you weak of will, not when you could give any Green Lantern a run for their money, but you could never raise a hand to him. You were kind. That’s why he had to keep you, to do what you couldn’t bring yourself to ever do.

He circles behind you, before sinking to his knees, arms wrapping around your hunched form and burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent with a groan of satisfaction.

A sob racks your body, as he nuzzles your neck.

“I love you,” Hal breathes. Too much to even consider letting you go.

Something sharp pricks your neck.

Vampire BL/GL combo creating infinite blood hack, as Barry graciously volunteers to be in the middle of that sandwich…

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