#and if they wanted to go in that direction so be it! it's fine!

[trivia-yandere]

Can I request a very smuttyyy storyyy? Pairing a successful & huge actor yandere jungkook x starlet/newbie actress reader pls!

starstruck (1)

jungkook, a highly award-winning actor, has his eyes set on you, an upcoming actress, to be his love interest in his new movie.

word count: 5.652

warning: yandere themes/tendencies, power imbalance, naive reader, manipulation, coercion, dub-con, non-con (acting) scenes, oral sex, dirty talk, face-fucking, ass-slapping, choking/w belt, squirting, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie,

“I want her.”

The director’s lips snap shut as Jungkook points at your portrait photo. Dare he say he takes several deep breaths before he speaks. 

“She has little acting experience.” the direct murmurs. “She’s only ever starred in indie horror films that are complete trash-”

“I happened to enjoy “Attack of the Killer Space Beetles”.” Jungkook jokes. He couldn’t help but begin to laugh at how ridiculous the name sounded. “Besides, you said you wanted a fresh face, right?”

The director sighs, but nods his head. A new face alongside Jungkook, an academy award-winning one, was needed. He wanted the audience to come to the theatres because of Jungkook, but stay long enough for the story.

“Exactly. She auditioned. Her credentials are…” Jungkook trails off. 

You did a lot of horror movies that only “horror lovers” would watch - for the sake of saying they’ve watched a lot of horror movies. They weren’t blockbuster or household names. They did, however, have a cult following. You were a newbie, but you did have a small fan base that enjoyed you being dragged across the ground covered in fake blood.

“This is a horror movie, as well.” Jungkook shrugs. He leans back into the leather seat and stretches his arms out. “Right in her element.”

“Yes but…there’s sex scenes.” the director shakes his head. “She’s never done that. She hasn’t even been nude before. I don’t have time to coach a new girl-”

“You don’t. That’s what the intimacy coach is for.”

The director ponders why Jungkook was fighting so hard for you specifically. Being a big name  in the industry, Jungkook cost millions and was the highest paid in any movie franchise or television series he starred in. He directed a few movies himself, and even assisted in producing them. He was the reason as to why a few celebrities had careers today - he had an eye for talent.

Jungkook’s current eye was now on you - a fresh face. Your acting was good and you had the potential. You went to college for acting and all; a degree not everyone had. Your heart was in it, you just needed the opportunity.

Jungkook was going to be that opportunity for you. He watched the way your eyes widen as you walked into the audition room, script in hand. You were immediately nervous when your eyes locked with his that it caused Jungkook to smile with how innocent you were.

So new and naive to the world of cinema - anyone would take advantage of such naivety. 

“Fine. If you think she’s good, then I’ll give her a call.” the director throws his hands up. Jungkook wasn’t a fool. He put on many celebrities - Kim Taehyung was one of the highest paid actors a part of a soap opera right now. The man hadn’t even come to the audition for himself, but instead as support for his friend. It was Jungkook who spotted the deep voiced man and asked him to audition for a role and said “Jungkook sent me”.

When your phone rings with an unknown number you hadn’t recognized, you assume it was either a spam call or a call from your agent telling you that you didn’t get the role but “there will be other roles available”.

You weren’t expecting to get a call from the same director as a week prior telling you that you got the role. You had forgotten how to breathe when the news was given to you that when the director asked if you were still there, you almost fainted.

“I’ll get in contact with your agent and pass her the details. In the meantime, Jeon Jungkook-” Your heart instantly pounds at the name. “-will be speaking with you soon. I hope it wasn’t bad that I’ve given him your contact information.”

“No!” you nearly scream, and you want to slap yourself. “I mean no, it’s not an issue.”

“Good.” the direct chuckles. “Jungkook has a good eye for talent, Ms. Y/L. He chose you himself.”

Your heart jolts and your eyes widen.

“If things go as planned, you could be just as big as him one day.”

Just as big as Jeon Jungkook one day.

Jeon Jungkook - thee Jeon Jungkook - had picked you. The award winning actor who’s graced your screen since you were a teenager had chosen you. You out of hundreds of female leads.

Upon your arrival at the audience, you were already nervous. You were in a room full of beautiful women, some you recognized. You contemplated turning around and going back home to this very apartment you rent for far too much than you can truly afford.

But you hadn’t. You stayed for hours and once your name was called, you entered. You audience and you got the role.

All because of Jeon Jungkook.

You could faint right now, your eyes swelling with tears. This could be the moment you studied so hard for. The acting classes you took daily cost you to work night shift, along with you studying in college for acting. You took your dream seriously and now…

“It’s paying off.” you say to yourself. You’re in complete silence now, head against your satin pillowcase. You’re staring up at the ceiling.

Your phone begins to buzz against your chest. You’re alarmed by the amount of notifications that are coming all at once.

Instagram notifications were coming through rapidly, all too quickly for you to grasp as to why. You open the app and find out for yourself.

You were an actress, yes, and you did have a bit of a following. You posted behind the scene pictures to your instagram sometimes and it garnered you over 10,000 followers.

You were shocked to see the following count rise from over 10,000, to nearly 100,000.

“W-What…?”

You understood why. The post shows up right as you click “home”. 

Jeon Jungkook has followed you. He had uploaded a picture of him with a script in his hands, smiling. His lips are a rosy pink and the lip-piercing adds a touch of attractiveness - how was that even possible? 

jeon.jk can’t wait to start filming our new horror movie “starstruck” with @yn. we’re both going to look good covered in blood 😭

Your breathing quickens. 

Breathe.

Breathe.

“Oh fuck.” you gasp out, palms sweaty. This was an exact reminder that this was all real. Jeon Jungkook acknowledging you publicly. He appeared excited to work with you - fuck, he was the one that chose you.

Not to forget that Jungkook also said you were going to look good covered in blood.

“Oh fuck.” you repeat.

You’re running, your feet nearly getting caught on the pavement. The sky is dark and cloudless, and the street lights don’t do enough to shine your path. 

Your heart is racing outside your chest and you feel as though your body is going to give out any moment now. You want nothing more than to stop and catch your breath, but you don’t. You don’t dare to.

Your footsteps are not the only ones you hear. The ones behind you are catching up - growing closer and closer. You don’t look back - that would only distract you. You could only wish that they are further than what they sound.

A loud screech releases from your throat when your hair is being pulled and you’re set backwards and right onto your back. Your manage to not hit your head on the way down, but your body is soaked in mud.

“Why are you running?”

That voice.

Your ankle is grabbed tightly and you’re being dragged. You continue to scream and cry as the man drags you closer to him. You attempt to kick your feet and to free yourself from this crazed man, but you’re unable to.

“Stop fucking screaming.” the man roars suddenly, his yells echoing off of the trees. “You,” a hand is slammed against your lips. “are only alive because I want you to be.”

Your heart pounds with how close the man was.

With how handsome, too. A handsome man like him didn’t do things like this. Handsome men with good jobs and money didn’t stalk you. They didn’t threaten your livelihood.

They didn’t chase you in the middle of the night, either - yet here he stood.

“Please.” you shake your head, crying. The tears finally spilled down your cheeks and your vision of the handsome man was blurring. “Please…”

“You’re so pretty when you cry.” the man laughs. His thumb rubs away a stray tear. “You’re pleading now because you’re scared. Where’s the woman that fought me earlier?”

You cry harder when the man shakes you roughly, now screaming in your face.

“Where is she? Where is she?!”

Your eyes grow wide when the man clenches your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. His dark eyes stare a hole through you. Almost if he was looking right through you - inside of you.

“Open your mouth.” the man commands.

You stiffen. Slowly, your eyes drifted to the side.

The director is seated in a chair. He’s watching the scene unfold, intrigued with how well you are acting. He doesn’t seem fazed that Jungkook had deviated from the script.

“I said,” Jungkook, in character, hissed. Without much thought, he squeezes your cheek until your mouth opens. He forces two of his fingers inside of your mouth and you’re entirely distraught to do anything. “open your mouth.” he repeats.

DId you somehow forget this scene? You’ve read the script countless times - there was no way this was in it. You’re far too shocked to do anything and neither Jungkook nor the direct stop. 

“Let me see what that mouth of yours can do while you’re afraid.”

Your chest rises and falls, eyes widening. Jungkook’s fingers force themselves deeper inside of you, holding onto your limp form.

“Cut!”

You gasp when Jungkook’s fingers remove themself from your mouth. He wipes them onto his pants without a care and smiles at you. “You okay?”

The demeanor changes instantly. Jungkook’s eyes soften and the hardened expression you witnessed before is gone entirely. 

This was all an act, of course. Jungkook was an actor. Of course he wasn’t some psychotic psycho chasing you through the woods.

“Y/N, you’re a natural.” the director calls from his chair. “I’m actually shocked by how well you’re doing. We’ve filmed all day now so we should have enough.” he says, clapping his hand. “Need everyone back here first thing tomorrow morning. Jungkook, Y/N,”

Your eyes turn back to Jungkook who is now standing. He offers you his hand - it’s covered in makeup to hide the tattoos - and you hesitantly take it.

“I’m sorry about the sudden change in script.” Jungkook murmurs to you. “I was told to improvise. He likes raw reactions.”

Raw reactions.

You nod your head, cheeks warming. “No problem, really.” you assure, yet you’d be lying if you say the change in script didn’t terrify you. It all seemed too real, even with countless people around you watching. Jungkook had a way that made you feel like it was only you and him around - and that’s just with the little scenes you and he acted in already.

“Intimacy coordinator wants to meet with the two of you.”

You bite your lip.

You knew that this was a horror film and there were scenes you’ve never done before. Sex scenes to be precise. You’ve read the script and you were left an embarrassed mess when you had to read the lines over with Jungkook, but he was professional. He made it easier for you with how polite and reassuring he was.

“You’re doing great.” Jungkook says as you and he walk down the grassy hill towards the trailers. 

Jungkook had his own trailer and much to your surprise, he had even rented you one. Typically, there was a trailer for people to share, but you’ve never had your own. It was never in the budget for the films you’ve done.

“Thanks.” you smile at him. “I was hoping I wouldn’t fall on my ass before you got to me.”

Jungkook chuckles. “You’re a natural on camera.” he says, and the compliment causes your body to warm up. “You can tell that you’re accustomed to the horror vibe.”

You nod your head a bit. “I try to be. I’ve been in corny horror movies though.” you joke. 

You recall when you and Jungkook had officially met to go over the script and he mentioned he enjoyed ‘Attack of the Killer Space Beetles’. You were immediately embarrassed, but Jungkook had actually watched and enjoyed it. He recounted scenes from the movie that even you forgot about. 

“Corny movies are only a stepping stone to your big break.” Jungkook says. He places a hand onto your shoulder and squeezes it gently before bringing you closer to his side in a sideways hug. 

Meeting with the intimacy coordinator had only reminded you that you’ve indeed never experienced anything like this. She was sweet in asking for your opinions - if you felt comfortable in the amount of sexual activity that would be happening behind the camera.

 A sex scene was new to you, but not to Jungkook. That also caused more nerves to be added onto your shoulders. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself too much in front of him and the rest of the crew.

Jungkook, however, was more supportive. He insisted that things weren’t as they seemed and most outcomes were just illusions.

“So since you’re new,” the intimacy coordinator states. “you’re possibly wondering how scenes are executed on set. These are modest garments.”

The coordinator shows you different skin-color shades of garments. “They’re strapless things with a barrier inside of them. Do you want to feel?”

Though you’re humiliated, you are also intrigued. You touch the garment and hum as you nod your head. You suppose this is how things are done - so you wouldn’t actually be feeling Jungkook.

“For men, we have them wear something called a modesty pouch.”

Jungkook leans back into his chair. He watches the way your eyes examine all of the garments, genuinely intrigued by it all as the intimacy coordinator explains to you how everything is done. Your naivety with how everything works is what causes Jungkook’s lips to form a small smile - you were cute, he thinks. This was like a whole new world to you that you’ve never been a part of; one that he was showing you.

“We have different types of garments you could wear and try on. Since you are new, we’ll have to find your size.” you nod along to her speech.  “And we’ll also have to work on what we call “faking it”.”

“Fake moaning.” Jungkook nods his head at your confused look. 

“We have to make it look real while we’re filming so the final product appears as such. But as you can see, it’s all fake at the end of the day.”

For the next hour, you were explained step-by-step of how intimacy works, camera angles, faking sounds and all. Once the meeting was over, you felt that this was something you could actually do without feeling like such a newbie.

“Feel better?” Jungkook asks. 

You and Jungkook are side by side now as you make your way out of your own trailer. You changed back into your clothes and decided that it was best for you to head back home. The evening sun casted a burnt orange type of hue over the set entirely.

“Yes.” you nod your head with a soft grin. “I can’t wait to watch the movie when it’s all done. I want to redeem myself from my past work.”

Jungkook snickers. “You’ll be amazing. Trust me.” he assures. “I waited to ask if you wanted to grab dinner and go over the script.”

You blink a few times, uncertain. Your stomach was rumbling and you could go for food right now - but did you truly want to go over the script? “What scenes did you want to go through?”

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “A few. Especially if we’re going to get told to keep improvising.”

Improvising. Your mind flashes with the way Jungkook looked and sounded earlier, followed by the way he forced his fingers into your mouth. It was eerie, especially when you didn’t know it was happening. You’re positive, however, that the raw reaction the director was looking for was highly evident.

“It shouldn’t be an issue, I guess.” you shrug your shoulders. You didn’t want Jungkook to think you weren’t passionate about the project - you were!

This is how you and Jungkook found yourselves, eating takeout while attempting to go over the script. You willingly drink the wine Jungkook gives you, admitting to yourself that it actually was an amazing taste - he told you it was thousands of dollars and you cannot comprehend just how someone could spend that much on it.

“Okay, let’s get back to the script.” you say after another sip of wine. “Where did we leave off?”

Jungkook turns a few pages before looking up at you. “We should try an intimate one. Get it out of the way so tomorrow it’ll be easier to perform.”

Nodding your head, you take a deep breath. You had read this scene countless times to memorize your lines. Watching Jungkook get into character was amazing. Even while practicing, he still gives a stellar performance.

“I missed you.” He says, taking a few steps towards you. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I-I haven’t.” you say. This scene involves you being in bed, but you and Jungkook are in his living room, so the couch would have to do.

“Yes you have. Are you afraid of me?” Jungkook comes closer until he’s hovering above you, dark eyes tracing over your body. “You know I’ll never hurt you.”

You flinch when a hand comes near you. “I-I…you told me you’d kill anyone who touched me. That’s not normal.” you quip.

“I can’t help how I feel!” Jungkook hisses. He plops down besides you, his eyes softening. “Please, baby…I’m sorry. Just give me another chance. You know I’ll never hurt you. Sometimes I get angry and…”

This was where the intimacy got started. Jungkook’s lips are on your neck immediately, kissing at the nape of it. His hand places itself onto your inner thigh and he squeezes.

“You drive me crazy.”

Your eyes close for a moment, swallowing. Jungkook kisses up your neck, hand growing closer and closer to you.

“We shouldn’t be doing this…” you murmur. “...you-”

You stop immediately when Jungkook’s hands touch your clothed heat. He cups it in his palm, your cheeks warming.

“Sssh…” Jungkook hums, continuing to rub. You weren’t wearing any safety garments - Jungkook knows this. You’re unable to move as he continues to rub. “...just let me.”

Jungkook squeezes your cupped heat, eyes flickering to see your reaction. Your shy face appears bewildered and you’re unable to move.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks. That wasn’t part of the script, and neither was him touching you. “Does it feel good?”

“Jung…kook?”

You say his name so sweetly that it causes him to moan.

“I like the way you say my name.” Jungkook admits. He’s so close to your face. It’s warm with embarrassment and nerves. This wasn’t part of the script - was he improvising again? Even this is too much.

“W-What are you doing?” you ask. He’s close like he was before, his eyes dark with someone else that you couldn’t put your finger on. Your heart is pumping so loudly, your thighs quivering.

“We’re going to be around one another for months. You and I have to look like we’re intimate on camera.” Jungkook’s tongue swipes along your neck. The hair on your skin rises. “We mind as well get comfortable.”

Comfortable…

The way Jungkook’s hands forces it’s way into your pants, you’re entirely stiff. You’re afraid to move, especially when his fingers rub along your clothed heat through your panties. A soft gasp comes from your lips.

“It feels good, right?” Jungkook hums against your neck. His tongue slides up towards your ear, his teeth nibbling slightly on it just to tease you further. “Talk.”

“Is this…okay?” you ask him, as if you aren’t the one that should be assured. Jungkook looks into your eyes and it drives him crazy. Those sweet, innocent eyes. Such naivety behind them.

“Of course this is okay. You feel good, don’t you?” Jungkook asks.

You nod your head a bit. It felt good - but you and Jungkook were co-workers. You didn’t want to go too far with him and have things be awkward on set later on. Nor did you want him to think you were a groupie who is willing to jump his bones at any given moment.

“We’re going to have to act in front of the camera, Y/N. You’re going to have to moan…” Jungkook murmurs. “I want you to be completely comfortable for me. It’s just us.”

You don’t move when Jungkook tugs your pants down and discards them on the floor. His eyes are intense, watching you the entire time. He places his hands back between your legs, continuing to rub your wet core through your panties.

“You’re new to this.” Jungkook chuckles. “But it’s just you and me. I want you to be comfortable enough for me, okay? Tell me how you feel.”

You aren’t new to sex, but those hookups weren’t Jeon Jungkook. You were self-conscious already. You’re positive he’s done this with countless women - all beautiful models and actresses. You were just you; a newbie in the world and you’re positive you look it.

“It feels nice.” you mumble.

“Yeah?” Jungkook chuckles again, just because you were so cute. “And now?” 

Pushing your panties aside, Jungkook slides his fingers across your wet clit. He rubs a bit more profusely, hissing as just how good he knows your pussy feels. He knows it's tight and would milk him for everything he has.

“In order to look convincing on camera, we’re going to have to experience it behind the scenes.” Jungkook explains. “Don’t you want this? This movie is going to be big.”

Jungkook wouldn't say he was manipulating you. You could push him away and say no - he just knows you won’t. You did want this. He was going to open doors for you that would’ve remained closed if it wasn’t for him.

"The scene we’re acting out is a bit aggressive, but not all of them are.” Jungkook assures. His cock tightens at just the thought of handling you the same way his movie character handles yours. “You trust me right?”

Slowly, and slightly unsure, you nod your head.

“Good.” Jungkook removes his hand from your clit. “Get up. And strip.”

Jungkook was blurring the lines between reality and the script. But you wanted to be good - good enough for him to realize that he didn’t make a mistake in choosing you.

“Yes, sir.” you nod your head, following along with the script.

Jungkook watches you peel off the remaining clothing. Your bra falls right besides your panties, erect nipples staring back at him.

“Go up the stairs and to the right. That’s my bedroom.” Jungkook instructs. “We can’t act this scene out on the couch.”

You can feel Jungkook watching you as you do as he says. Being fully nude before him is nerve wrecking and you just hope you can appear sexy as you’re supposed to. You and him were actually going to do this - there’s no garments to hide either of your parts from one another.

“You think I’d allow anyone else to have what’s mine?” Jungkook hisses. He removes his belt as you sit on his bed, innocent eyes looking up at him.

“N-No, sir.” you murmur back.

“Exactly. I’d kill anyone who thinks they’ll take you away from me.” Jungkook pushes his pants off. You don’t want to stare at the obvious bulge in his underwear, but it’s hard not to. “How should I punish you then? You tried to run away from me.”

You swallow. “Sir-”

“How about you get on your knees?”

You lick your lips. Your character is supposed to be frightened, doing whatever it takes to survive Jungkook’s character - the obvious bubbling psychopath. Witnessing you on your knees, naked with those eyes causes something in Jungkook’s chest to rumble. His cock throbs, wishing you’d touch him already.

“I’d do anything, sir.” you say. Your soft hands lift up to touch him, sliding up his bare legs until they are on either side of his thighs. 

“Open your mouth.” Jungkook demands. His free hand is placed on your chin. “Wider.” he instructs over and over until your tongue is out.

You’re trembling when Jungkook pushes his underwear out. This is something you’ve never done. Oral sex wasn’t something you were interested in with simple hookups. His cock is big, veiny with a wet tip. Without warning - though you should’ve expected, he rubs his tip against your tongue. It’s salty and at the first sign of your hesitance, Jungkook tightens his fingers on your chin.

“You’re doing good.” Jungkook instructs. “You’ve sucked on a lollipop before, right? Treat it like that.”

This was Jungkook talking to you, not his character. His breathing increases when you listen. You were such a good girl - and your compliance would be rewarded. He could make you into the perfect actress - highly awarded just like he was. In due time, of course.

You do as Jungkook says, licking his tip just as you would a lollipop. It’s new to you and you aren’t sure if you’re doing it correctly, but Jungkook’s gasping lowly so you assume you are. Your eyes flicker up to look at him for reassurance.

“You’re doing good.” Jungkook says as if he knows. “Just…take more of me, yeah?”

Jungkook thrusts himself deeper into your wet mouth, groaning when you allow him to with little resistance. His hand holds onto your cheek. “Stay like this, okay. Let me…”

Jungkook begins to pump his cock in and out of you slowly. His moaning increases, his dark eyes fluttering every so often. You’re shocked with how wet you were, your thighs clenching together. Doing this for Jungkook and witnessing how good it makes him feel makes you feel good.

“You’re so beautiful taking my cock.” Jungkook speaks, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “You’re so good.”

Jungkook picks up the pace, as does his moans. Watching the way your wet mouth takes his cock deeper and deeper with little resistance, even if he can see the whelming tears forming to your eyes with how overwhelming it was. Fuck, you were such temptress.

“You’re such a good girl, Y/N. I promise you’d have it all. Just be good to me, okay?” Jungkook’s cock is so deep in your mouth that you cannot physically respond, but a hum vibrates from your throat and sends Jungkook into a frenzy. 

You’re unsure how you haven’t gagged more than a couple times with how deep Jungkook was, growing more aggressive by the second. You’re breathing through your nose heavily for air, your eyes glossy.

Jungkook spills entirely into your throat, the salty, warm substance causing you to actually gag. You swallow it, unsure what else to do after he removes his cock from your mouth. You finally breathe from your lips, blinking away the tears from your eyes.

“Look at you,” Jungkook hisses. “turn around.”

You were going by the script again. Once you can see again, you do as you’re told. You already know what’s next - the belt still in his right hand. You had to prepare for when you and him do this scene you suppose.

Jungkook wraps the leather belt around your neck, tightening just enough that it isn’t choking you. He forces you onto your feet.

“This is what I do to whore’s who don’t listen.”

You’re forced onto the bed. You immediately know what position to get into, having read the script. And Jungkook thinks you’re such an obedient person that it drives him crazy.

You aren’t sure how this scene was going to play out in front of the camera, but Jungkook isn’t hesitant to slam a hand directly on your bare ass. You yelp at the sudden action - and the sensation of it.

“Count.” Jungkook demands.

“One.”

SLAP!

“Two.”

SLAP!

“T-Three…”

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

Your thighs are quivering, forced apart so Jungkook could watch the way arousal trickles down your thighs helplessly. Your ass is stinging, a pleasurable feeling you’ve never experienced until now. 

Jungkook yanks at the belt and you’re forced upward and against his chest. You struggle a moment, eyes widening. 

“You’re wet.” Jungkook says against your ear. “You like this, don’t you?”

You nod slightly, cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“That’s okay.” Jungkook assures. “I want you to feel good, too.”

Jungkook’s free hand slides between your legs. He doesn’t allow you to move and his grip onto the belt is firm. He likes the way you helplessly lean against his chest while his hand rubs along your wet clit.

“Let’s see how well you take my fingers.”

Jungkook’s fingers are intruding, but he doesn’t care. He slides them between your folds and  right in you. You’re tighter than he thought, fully taking him entirely. 

You gasp at the feeling, your pussy clenching instantly. Jungkook doesn’t intend on being soft with you - no. It’s what you were going to have to get used to. This wasn’t a soft movie - it was hard. It was intruding and invasive - showcasing just how obsessed Jungkook’s character was with yours.

Your pussy is squelching so loudly that Jungkook adds another finger. You’re moaning helplessly, your thighs aching too close to stop the overstimulation but Jungkook isn’t going to allow it. He forces his knee between your legs to assure you stay exactly like this.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, a hand on his wrist. “s-slow down, please. I-i can’t-”

“Shut up.” Jungkook hisses. He was enjoying fucking his fingers into your pussy. He can feel it - the throbbing and clenching and unclenching. 

“I have to…” you’re breathing heavily. Your eyes squeeze shut and your hands, to no avail, are attempting to pry Jungkook off of you. His hand only tugs on the belt.

There’s pressure building up in you. You felt as though you had to pee and you weren’t going to humiliate yourself and do that now. “P-please…!”

“Let go, Y/N. I know you feel it.” Jungkook’s voice is so deep that it tickles something in you. He wasn’t going to release you - not until you did what he said.

You have no control over the pressure that builds and builds until your body forces it out. It sprays entirely onto your thighs and onto the silk bed sheets.

“Such a good girl you are, Y/N.” Jungkook shakes his head, his wet fingers removed from your hole.

Jungkook isn’t going to let you regain any peace - not when you and he had to perfect your roles. When you feel something else at your entrance, you’re too overstimulated to say anything.

Jungkook enters you. You’re so wet that he slides past your walls effortlessly. He groans, feeling your wet pussy around his cock is mind blowing. You were amazing, he thinks, so wet and willing. He finds pleasure in knowing that it was him that is going to discover you and all your talents.

Jungkook begins to pump, forcing you onto his bed so he can get a better grip on you. Your legs are forced apart and your head is shoved into the wet sheets. You’re unable to form words and your eyes are still shut. He’s so deep, pounding into you with every ounce of aggression the script calls for.

“You’re going to be a star, Y/N. I’ll make sure of it.” Jungkook hisses. He’s positive that you’re only half listening, the other half of you babbling and moaning to yourself. But he’ll make sure to tell you once more in the morning. 

Your hands grip the sheet, unsure if you were going to be able to handle another orgasm, but Jungkook wasn’t going to stop until you both were there.

Your ass bounces against his abdomen, your wet pussy gushing with more and more juices that he’s unsure just how this was possible. You’re creaming around his cock, so good that he’s positive you’re cumming over and over again.

“You love this, don’t you? You get to get fucked by me and have the world at your hands. You and I…” Jungkook speaks, now more to himself. To think about it, he could be your guide. Someone to protect you from harm in this industry - you were new and naive. Anyone could take advantage of you. “...I’ll protect you, Y/N. Make sure no one has their way with you.”

You whimper once more when you feel another sensation flowing though you and Jungkook are chuckling with delight. You’re limp, forced to allow Jungkook to have his way with you.

“Maybe we should become the next power couple, huh? Dominate the industry…the perfect actress I can have you be…”

Jungkook’s thrusts become sloppy, satisfied with the possibility of making you the star he knows you can be. The one you and he could be together - fuck, he was going to cum. His eyes squeeze shut, a few more thrusts and-

You feel warmth pool through you and Jungkook falls right on top of you. Your thighs are trembling and your eyes are heavy. You’ve cum more than you ever had before and you had no energy in you to move.

Jungkook is panting, his mouth right against your shoulder. He’s still pumping cum into you, sweat forming on his forehead. One thing for sure, Jungkook couldn’t wait to make you a star.

@investedreader @sweetempathprunetree @minshookie29 @darkuni63 @chimmy-licious

trivia-yandere: i think this calls for a second part :3

[invoncible]

FAILSAFE ✧˚. 00 / PROLOGUE There's only a handful of people with the skillset to raise a gifted child.

knock, knock

Debbie stopped in her tracks. She just closed the door on a potential nanny who was, unsurprisingly, working for Cecil. Was he so desperate to keep tabs on her and her family that he would send these poor employees to wait at her door day in and day out?

She rolled her eyes as she turned around, walking back to the front entrance. He could send as many as he wanted. She wasn't going to budge—and she'd show him by sending away the next agent he put on her doorstep.

"Hi! I'm April Howsam, here for the nanny position?" The woman greeted cheerfully. "This is my aide, Y/N."

You peeked out from behind your mentor, offering a small wave and polite smile.

Debbie's tired eyes darted between you both but before she could put her foot down, April spoke up.

"Before we begin, you should know that Cecil sent us. Now, I wasn't supposed to tell you, but I think it's unacceptable to mislead a potential employer." April clutched her files close to her chest, her brows furrowing. "Especially one looking for someone to take care of their child."

Your gaze landed on Debbie's face, studying her shock with a hopeful heart. A moment of silence passed, but it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward, rather... like an understanding was being shared.

"Please come in." Debbie stepped back, her eyes holding onto a shred of suspicion but clearing the way for you and April to enter her home nonetheless.

You both smiled at her as you shuffled in, the scent of a clean home infiltrating your nostrils almost immediately. Everything was in place—pillows, rugs, art... It was clear Debbie ran her home diligently.

The door clicked shut behind you, Debbie joining you in the foyer. April handed her the file with your resumes.

"As you can see, I have extensive experience working with gifted children ranging from newborns to late teens." April explained as you rounded the corner.

Your eyes lit up upon seeing the baby in question; the cutest little grape-colored boy crawling on the ground. Your lips broke into a smile, mouthing a little hi! and fluttering your fingers in his direction.

He raised his head to look at you, tilting in confusion slightly before crouching lower to the floor like a lion cub about to pounce. He pushed himself up to his feet and returned his efforts to his excursion across the living room.

"So you know that Oliver is..."

"Half Thraxan, half Viltrumite." April answered. "I also know that Nolan Grayson is Oliver's father, and your son, Mark, is Oliver's half-brother."

"You've been thoroughly briefed, I see." Debbie's eyes lifted off the pages in front of her to glance at you and your mentor.

"Yes, we have," April turned to you with a warm smile, reaching an arm around your shoulder and bringing you into the conversation.

"And—I'm sorry, what's the purpose for both of you?" Debbie asked.

"Thraxans are known to grow quickly. I can foster Oliver's learning and mental abilities just fine, but he'll need someone younger who can keep up with him should he want to play outside, for example." April gestured to you. "Which is where Y/N comes in."

"Ah." Debbie's head tilted in acknowledgment, her lips pursing in thought.

"While I don't have the experience April does, my whole life has been centered around taking care of kids." You piped in, glancing at April for reassurance. She nodded kindly.

Debbie raised an eyebrow. "How old are you?"

"19." You answered quickly. Debbie's face fell just a smidge but you quickly continued, "Finished school at 16, spent the years since learning April's trade. You can rest assured I am well equipped to handle Oliver."

Confidence restored, if only a little bit, Debbie smiled. April waved to Oliver as he approached you.

"My philosophy on child-rearing is simple. Encourage a child's natural curiosity," April bumped your shoulder, handing you a teething toy and nodding towards Oliver. "while giving him structure and a safe space to grow."

You swiftly caught up to him, gently holding onto his wrist before he pulled out a pair of scissors from the plant pot. He whined, but you dangled the toy in front of him as a peace offering.

"How about this one?" You hummed. He grabbed it without any fussing, ditching the scissors. You watched him waddle away with a small smile and handed the scissors back to Debbie.

"I also play a mean lullaby on the ukulele." April joked lightheartedly.

Debbie sighed, putting the scissors away at a safe height before dropping onto the couch. "I appreciate your honesty. I just don't want a GDA agent in my house running interference for Cecil on how to raise Oliver."

"There's only a handful of people in the world with my skillset." April flattened her hand over her chest emphatically. "And I'm choosy with who I pass those skills onto. This allows me and my mentee freedom from government oversight. We work for you, Ms. Grayson. Not Cecil."

"You're the boss." You emphasized. Your attention was drawn to Oliver who was sat at Debbie's feet, toying with the teething ring.

"Mama boss." He chirped, twisting to look at her. Debbie instantly smiled, scooping him up in her arms.

"See? Oliver knows who's in charge." April's eyes closed as she laughed brightly, leaning back slightly in her chair. You couldn't help but go awwww at the endearing sight. You had worked with many kids over the last three years, but none as young as Oliver yet.

Debbie smiled, a low sigh passing through her lips. "Let's do it."

[]

Debbie left you both to your devices, deciding to take a meeting with her company to see how she could integrate her way back into her full-time schedule. She still kept a close eye on you, setting up on the kitchen island while she took calls.

"Alright." April cooed, pulling the coffee table out of the way to free up more open space in the living room. "What do you say we assess your abilities, Oliver?"

He babbled happily and April chuckled sweetly as she pulled out her checklist and notepad.

You sensed a break in Debbie's meetings, getting up and strolling into the kitchen area. "Do you mind if I grab a glass of water?"

"Oh, not at all. Help yourself." She smiled over her computer, fingers clacking away at her keyboard.

You thanked her, opening the fridge and pouring a glass. The fridge door swayed shut, revealing Debbie on the other side. You jumped slightly at her sudden appearance, eyes snapping to where she was just sitting.

"You're the same age as my son, you know." She began.

"Yes," You answered smoothly, refilling the pitcher and shelving it back in the fridge. "Mark Grayson. Invincible's a pretty big name right now."

"Ugh, I know." She groaned, a bitter glare focused on the floor.

You cast her a quizzical look before she quickly shook her head of her frown, clarifying, "I'm so happy for Mark, really. But I just worry sometimes. He's working so hard, and Cecil doesn't make it any easier for him—"

You laugh softly, calming her ranting to a stop. "Oh, believe me. I get it. Cecil doesn't make anything easy for anyone."

She smiled appreciatively. "It's so... refreshing to have people I can talk to about all of this, even the GDA."

The Graysons were a popular name at the GDA, what with Omni-man's betrayal, Mark's penchant for attracting the worst kinds of enemies, and now the new baby. You were well aware of Debbie's situation, her burden—it was one of the reasons you jumped at the offer for this case.

"Like April said, we don't work for the GDA and we have a wide skill set." You leaned against the countertop beside her. "Whatever counseling you need, or if you just need to vent, I'll listen. Nothing leaves this house."

She paused, considering your words. Debbie was smart. Even smarter to be naturally distrusting of anyone who is a part of her or her sons' lives. You and April were convincing enough, though, to make her lower her guard just a little bit.

"Yeah." She whispered, eyes creasing with a genuine smile. "I'd... I'd like that. I tried something and... it didn't really work out." Her face drooped, her waterline growing glossy as she recounted trying her luck with the support group.

Her moment of reminiscing shattered when her phone buzzed. "Uh... another time. Rain check?" She chuckled, rounding back to her station and answering the call.

"Of course." You smiled politely when she met your eyes, sipping from your glass.

You wondered how long it would take them to find out you're lying through your teeth.

[]

Mark wanted to drop dead after spending hours trying to do the exact opposite. But no—he negotiated with Cecil for a few days off so he could spend time with Amber. He wasn't going to crash when he had to prepare for their date tomorrow. He wouldn't forgive himself if he slept in.

Dusting off his sweater and pants as he flew back home, he quietly slipped in the back of the house. It was dark, as expected. His mom was usually asleep during this time, Oliver included on a good day.

It seemed to be a good day.

He wiped his shoes on the mat at his feet, trudging into the kitchen for a quick snack before bed. He had to be up early if he wanted to beat the crowds at the Comic Convention.

He froze when he heard Oliver's sniffles. His head twitched to the side, tuning out the low buzz of the fridge to listen in. He heard a voice—light and sweet, comforting, but most definitely not his mother's.

Panic snaked its way around his heart and tugged, his breath short as he bolted up the stairs. He stood tensely in the hallway, peering into his mother's room to see her untouched bed.

His brows furrowed as he burst into Oliver's room. "Oliver—?"

You and Oliver both flinched at the sudden intrusion, staring up at Mark with saucers for eyes. Oliver giggled happily, reaching out for his brother.

Mark lunged forward. Not to embrace his brother, no—his hand curled around your throat instead, driving you into the wall behind you.

You gasped sharply, eyes screwing shut as the force knocked the wind from your lungs. You clawed at his arm, feet kicking helplessly with nothing to stand on. "Wait—"

He hovered over your squirming body mercilessly, squeezing to watch you splutter.

"Who are you?"

© invoncible

[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.

[hivemuthur]

request: jayce and mel decided to invite their friends with them to a beach trip, viktor isn't the type to enjoy the hot sun and being sweaty, but doesn’t mind staying under the shade away from the heat, because imagine wasting the chance to see his crush in a cute bikini.. maybe a sunscreen scene too <3

Hi Anon! I miss summer so much that I wrote this for you:

Lips Burn Too

viktorxfemale!reader explicit/mature idk it's just horny. Kinda modern uni AU. Lots and lots of yearning, Reader wears a one-piece swim suit, because I find it sexier, Jayce is a matchmaker secretly, some heated kissing, very very slight dry humping, like for a second, a very gentle Jayvik nod. Also @ihopeinevergetsoberr changed my brain chemistry and Viktor is a thigh man through and through.

word count: 2,9K

author’s note: This is for the Freaktor Nation. The still comes from One Day. I listened to Contaminado by La Femme and Mykonos by Fleet Foxes writing this if you want to check it out! Also, I'm still brainrotten from D&M, so if you see Pride and Prejudice reference, no you don't. @rennethen pre-read, merci!

—

“Viktor, I beg you,” Jayce pleads, quickening his pace. For a man with a cane, Viktor is unexpectedly fast, and Jayce has to take quick steps to keep up.

“No,” Viktor replies flatly, granting Jayce nothing more.

“Viktor, look at me.” Jayce reaches out, catching Viktor’s arm to halt him. Then, to Viktor’s absolute horror, Jayce drops to his knees. In the middle of the academy corridor.

A group of passing girls giggle; one of them calls out, "Say yes!" earning the spectacle a few more turning heads.

Viktor’s mouth twitches into an involuntary smile as he leans on his cane, gazing down at his friend. “As much as I’m enjoying this, the answer is still no.”

“Viktor,” Jayce groans, bowing his head in exaggerated resignation. He sighs, rubbing his thighs as if steadying himself for further negotiation.

“Jayce,” Viktor states dryly, then asks, “Why is it so imperative that I accompany you to the beach?”

“Because,” Jayce huffs, scrambling back to his feet, “I don’t want you sulking around here while we’re all there.” He gestures vaguely toward there, as if the direction alone should be convincing. “And the sea is nice. And it’s warm. Please. I’ll bring the biggest umbrella. SPF 99. Anything you want. Just say yes,” he begs, hands gripping Viktor’s shoulders, eyes imploring.

The truth is, Jayce desperately wants to take Mel to the beach. But she, being the merciless tease she is, declared she would only go if everyone went. No particular reason—just to watch Jayce struggle.

Viktor sighs, dragging a hand down his face. It isn’t the promise of shade or excessive sun protection that gives him pause—it’s that single, fateful word: everyone.

If Jayce means what Viktor thinks he means (and he usually does), then you will be there. Which means that, had Viktor remained stubborn, he would have missed the rare opportunity to compare the version of your thighs that exists in his imagination with the reality. One in a million chance for field research. He cannot let it slip away.

Jayce watches him carefully, spotting the exact moment hesitation turns into reluctant acceptance.

Viktor exhales dramatically, purely to emphasize how troublesome Jayce is being. “Fine. I will go to the beach.”

And so, it happens the following weekend, when the sun scorches the land mercilessly, and Viktor briefly worries that his skin will sizzle under the heat—until he sees you approaching the car.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary, yet it serves as the first glimpse into his ongoing research when he realises you’re wearing shorts, granting him a tantalising view of bare skin. And in that moment, he is convinced that if anything will make his skin sizzle, it won’t be the sun’s radiation, but you.

By the time you arrive at the place, Viktor’s back is already damp—partly due to the busted AC in Jayce’s car, partly because the two of you are wedged together in the back seat, pressed close by the massive umbrella Jayce insisted on bringing for him. Your thighs brush and bump against his with every pothole, and the only barrier he has—his cane—proves almost useless in keeping any distance.

His gaze fixes on your knees, and when sunlight streams through the windows, he catches the fine peach fuzz on the inner side of your thighs. He wonders if sunscreen will cling to it, momentarily turning it white before sinking into your skin. He would like it for his hands to be the ones that make it happen.

From the parking lot, he’s handed a small shoulder bag filled with fruit and a cooling container to carry. That’s when he notices—your back is damp too. Your shirt clings to your spine, outlining the shape of your bathing suit beneath. It’s a one-piece, low-cut, ending at the small of your back and leaving the rest bare. He can’t wait for you to take the outer layer off.

The cane proves useless on the sand, forcing him to lean on Jayce’s arm for support, despite Jayce’s hands being full—the umbrella swings over his shoulder, his forearms burdened with bag straps and a deflated mattress. You and Mel walk ahead, carrying blankets and towels, laughing and holding your hats against the wind.

The beach is wild and untouched, with only a handful of people scattered across the sand dunes. It’s a raw meeting place between land and sea where the elements have shaped it with no regard for humans. Old tree barks lie bleached, half-buried in the sand, twisted like grotesque limbs. The dunes rise and fall, sleepy, with their peaks crowned by scorched patches of grass that cling stubbornly to the sunbaked earth. Here, among the hollows and ridges, the world feels utterly private—hidden from prying eyes, as if nature itself conspires to keep secrets.

A gust of warm wind rushes over, catching the hem of your shirt and tugging at it insistently, exposing the curve of your waist before you press it back down. Viktor watches the way the fabric clings to you, how the heat of the day has already begun marking the skin of your neck, turning it darker. He imagines the press of the sun’s warmth sinking deeper, how it might feel beneath his hands, beneath his lips.

Sand swallows your sandal and the heat of it licks the sole of your foot as you stand on one leg to shake it off. Viktor watches the way your calve flexes in the light, pictures himself licking over the burnt skin, easing it down. His mouth goes dry, and lids grow heavy, grains catching in his eyelashes as he tries to blink the images goading his thoughts toward dangerous places away.

The spot you choose to set up camp is a hollow dip nestled among the sand hills, high enough that when you spread your blankets, the sea is visible only as a thin strip of blue on the horizon. Once everything is settled—including the wide umbrella that rattles in the wind above your heads—Jayce grunts, claps his hands together, and declares, “Alright then,” before promptly hoisting Mel upside down over his shoulder.

“I’m taking you for a swim,” he announces playfully, securing her ankles in one hand as she kicks and squirms. Her wild curls tumble downward, brushing against his back as she protests, her laughter carried away by the wind. Viktor watches as Jayce carries her off through the dunes, their figures shrinking into the distance until the crashing waves swallow the sound of her shrieks.

He settles down on the blanket and tugs his shirt off in one boyish pull, welcoming the tickling sensation of the wind against the heated skin of his back. Rolling the fabric awkwardly into a lumpy pillow, he places it beneath his head, determined to ignore the burning stare you’re directing at him.

You let the moment linger—Viktor’s eyes are closed, his lashes resting against his cheeks, and he cannot see you, you think. The wind is gentler here, in your little cloister, sending only the laziest grains of sand tumbling across his stomach as it rises and falls with his breath. They catch in the fine trail of hair that guides your gaze from his sunken navel, down between his hips, before disappearing beneath the bridge of the waistband stretched over his hipbones.

With this sliver of privacy, you undress down to your bathing suit. Viktor’s eyes crack open, his face half-shielded by the crook of his elbow as he steals a glance, masking the little act of voyeurism. You step from foot to foot, slipping free of your shorts and shirt, and he inhales deeply, trying to remain. Just remain. Just not sink into the sand under the weight of this sight.

Your thighs are as lovely as he imagined. And oh, your hips are dipped in a way that tempts his hands, as though they were shaped to be held. You ass cheeks slit diagonally by the swimsuit’s bottom, the parts peeking out from underneath it tempt his mouth to land there and his teeth to bite down so much that his jaw tightens.

He is so focused on making himself look as though he’s not looking that he doesn’t notice the sudden spurt of cold sunscreen on his stomach until it makes him jolt.

“Ah! What’s this?” he exclaims, spreading his hands apart.

“You’ll burn,” you tease, setting the bottle aside after applying some—oh…—to your thighs. And whatever Viktor had conjured in his mind does not compare to reality. Your fingers sink into your skin, leaving faint white streaks that catch on the fine hairs, turning them silver under the sunlight. When you shift just beyond the shade of the umbrella, the cream finally disappears, leaving only a satin glow and the scent of summer clinging to you.

“We are in the shade,” he mutters, transfixed, struggling to drag his eyes away.

“It doesn’t matter. You’ll fall asleep, the sun will shift, and you’ll burn,” you say knowingly, motioning toward the bottle, though the amount you’ve already placed on his stomach is more than enough for his entire chest. He still hasn’t done anything about it, and it inches lazily toward the waistband of his trunks.

“I’ll have you know that I already did this before we left,” he counters, but instead of rubbing it in, he simply picks up the bottle, inspects it for a second, then tosses it aside. “And I’d burn anyway with this inferior protection.”

You snort. “Oh, please. SPF 99 is just marketing. Fifty is enough.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” The sound is barely more than a hum as you twist your arms, straining to reach your shoulder blades.

“Do you need help?” The words tumble out before he can stop them, and the bottle is back in Viktor’s hands in an instant. You nod, then glance over your shoulder just as he warms the lotion between his palms. You attempt to tease him—“So thoughtful—”

But the words die in your throat when the back of his hand brushes your hair aside, sweeping it over one shoulder.

“I am,” he says quietly. Then, a palm full of sun screen presses against the nape of your neck and stays. The heel of his hand rests on one side while his fingers stretch across to the other, spanning the delicate space where your pulse flutters, quickened beneath his touch. To his utter joy.

“Thoughtful,” he finally murmurs into your ear. And then he rubs it in—both the words and the cream. His hand slides from your neck lower and to the sides, dipping underneath the straps, rubbing the balls of your shoulders. You roll them back instinctively and inhale deeply hoping that the sound drowns in the sea.

Lower he goes. To your shoulder blades and between, where muscle meets bone, and Viktor is so painfully quiet that silent breathing becomes harder and harder to achieve. His fingers bleed not only thoughtfulness, you realise, but tenderness. It seeps into your skin, when he dares to slide beneath the material and tease your sides, and oh—the small of your back. Flat palm comes there when he pulls the stretchy band away from your body and explores, calloused pads ghosting over your sacrum.

“It’s cut rather low, isn’t it?” he hums in an attempt to offload the tension.

You chuckle, grateful and muse, “Hmm, good thing I didn’t put it on backwards then.”

“I think it depends on perspective,” he huffs a laugh and before you can answer, adds, “All done.”

You turn to face him and swing your legs over one of his. “What about you?” you ask, pointing at his belly painted white.

“I don’t know,” he breathes, so quiet that you itch to move closer. You shift again, moving one of your legs so that now you are sat with your knees bent over his thighs, your torsos facing each other.

“Do you need help?” you ask, matching his tone.

“If you’d be,” he swallows, “so thoughtful.”

His tummy sucks in involuntarily when your fingers dip into the pool of sun screen gathered at the waistband. You pull it away from his navel, scoop it up and Viktor breathes out, “Oh.” His head falls forward, foreheads nearly touching. Your hands glide up, over the flat plane below his stomach, whitening the sparse hairs there before reaching the ridges of his ribs making him exhale loudly through his nose, as he does nothing to hide what kind of effect your touch has on him.

Palms smooth over his chest, brushing his nipples, and he huffs an embarrassed laugh but still says nothing. Not until you reach his neck, where your fingers meet at his nape, tracing the hairline, then his earlobes—and that’s when he exhales a quiet, “Oh, fuck,” slipping through parted lips.

You hum, letting his forehead press against yours. Your thumbs move with intent in slow circles over the freckles dusting the column of his throat, the one above his upper lip, and the delicate skin beneath his eye. Then you inhale, a soft, measured sound, and murmur, “I’ve heard that lips burn too.”

“Is that so?” Viktor whispers, his nose brushing against yours.

Gentle fingers, bearing little to no lotion now, ghost over his mouth, and his lip quivers under the pressure. You rub, stretch, tease the tender flesh until it slips from your touch and bounces back into place. His jaw slackens, inviting—waiting—and then, when you least expect it, his tongue flickers out, hot and wanting.

Oh. You think you’ve reached the edge of indulgence, but then he redefines it for you—his lips close around your fingers, and he sucks.

“Oh, fuck, Viktor,” you moan, shameless, shifting closer. Your thighs close around his ribs, and he shudders, hips jerking forward, pressing the thick, insistent heat of him against you.

His hand closes around your wrist, thumb stroking the pulse beneath your skin when his tongue curls around the tip of your fingers, tracing every ridge and every sensitive dip. He sucks, drawing them deeper, the wet heat of his mouth sending a bolt of warmth rivalling the sun down. His teeth graze—just lightly, teasing—before he soothes the spot with another languid swipe of his tongue.

A sharp inhale catches in your throat. "Viktor—”

Your name hovers on the edge of his breath as he pulls off, lips parting with the softest pop. His pupils are dark and blown wide, fixed on your mouth like it holds the answer to something he’s been dying to know. He licks his lips before murmuring, “What about your lips?” His voice is rough, almost hoarse, and he swallows hard, the bob of his Adam’s apple visible in the dip of his throat.

You blink, breath uneven, caught between teasing and the cramp twisting your stomach. “I don’t know, Viktor,” you say innocently. Your fingers brush your own mouth, still slick from his. “If you’d be so thoughtful.”

Viktor leans forward, twisting his fingers into your hair, his free hand slips bravely to squeeze your ass and then hook into your hip, just as he wanted. And indeed, it’s made to be held, the lovely hip of yours. His lips cover yours entirely, wet and filthy as he cocks your head back so his tongue can dip in properly. You can taste the balm of you and the salt of him as you slide your hands up his ribs again, graze your nails against his neck to finally settle into his hair. Viktor fills your mouth with moans, and they all taste so sweet you could melt.

A low groan rumbles against your chest when you roll your hips against him, hist body answering with a sharp involuntary thrust. Sand tickles your ankles as your hook them over each other behind Viktor’s back and press on him hard and Viktor swears to God, he’s about to roll you over and fuck you, because he can’t stand it, when—

“Jayce! Get out of the water, you’re burned!” Mel’s voice reaches you from the nearby.

“Shit,” you squirm, still holding his face. “You—oh God. Lay on your stomach,” you offer eyeing the tent in his trunks, apology seeping from your tone.

“Shit, indeed,” he chuckles, cheeks flushed, and he sighs, as if considering if it’s worth the risk after all. Moment lingers, but he finally untangles his legs from underneath yours and with a grunt splays flat on his belly, a book marking his innocence opens on a random page when he makes himself look engrossed in it.

Mere seconds later, Mel, looking like she was just made by the gods, emerges over the crest of the sand dune, Jayce right behind her, his nose and shoulders glaring red. His still-cold body slumps down next to Viktor in the shade. He pokes Viktor’s calf with his toe and asks, “So? Not too bad, is it?”

“Who said it was going to be bad?” Viktor responds, his nose buried in his book.

“Well, you— Ow!” Jayce hisses when Mel spurts a cold gush of sunscreen onto his back.

Viktor only smiles, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Oh no. I love the beach,” he says, grinning stupidly. “Most ardently.”

“Good to know, V,” Jayce smiles, knowing. “I’ll make sure we come more often.”

[makeitworse]

DANG, IS SHE THAT GOOD?

talking ji-yong through topping you.

nsfw. minors dni. c/w: fem!reader / sub!ji-yong. glimpses of domestic life. age gap. praise. unprotected sex. soft smut. a/n: typed w one hand tbh

ji-yong always found himself under you during sex. that’s just how he liked it best.

he’s a busy man, and he’s not young anymore either. after a long day at work, he just wants to kick his feet up and let you take care of him. and that’s fine by you! you’ve got youthful energy to spend, and there’s not many sights as precious as the king of kpop himself sprawled out beneath you, completely at your mercy.

he finally has the rare chance of some free time with you— a breather amongst his packed schedule during his comeback. actually managing to get him out of bed on his days off was a rarity. but today he’s eager to take you out, dedicate a day to you; make-up for how work’s been demanding most of his focus. you shake your head when he pulls out his black card, but he’s not taking no for an answer.

later that day you found yourselves tangled on the couch in a hot flurry of kisses. he couldn’t keep his hands to himself while you were out; you had to tell him off for being so touchy in public, cameras could be anywhere.

pinning you down was the first thing on his mind once you were back home. your hands are lost in his hair, his are snaked under your top. his knee’s hiked up and digging into your core, and he mumbles a cuss as you rock yourself on his leg. you figure, since you’re already here, you may as well ask:

“ji, baby. would you be on top?”

he’s taken aback. for a beat, he hums and tosses the idea over. it’s certainly been a while since he’s had the energy to take the reins of your intimacy. the imagery of you beneath him gets ji-yong hot— sending a pulse straight to his dick. then, he kisses you with such force that your head cranes back. he’s hungry and his tongue’s on yours and he’s grinding down into your core with a newfound vigour.

you’re fully committed: you’re biting your lip, arching your back. you even encourage him with soft mewls as he sucks at your neck. he’s already panting at the sight of you. you slide a hand between your bodies to palm at him, finding his trousers damp with his arousal. ji-yong trembles over with a moan. on instinct, he’s keeling over for you to take control.

your mouth’s hot on his ear as whine how bad you need him. with that, he practically rips off your bottoms, and is too impatient to tug his own all the way off as they bunch at his knees. your hand is atop his as he guides himself in, his face scrunching as he fills you to the hilt. he stays there for a beat— dick twitching inside of you. you hum:

“fuck me, hun.”

and he obeys. ji-yong sets a gruelling pace, snapping his hips in and out of you like crazy. you egg him on by letting moans slip from your mouth, and he has to bite his lip to muffle his own. you guide his hands all over your body: fondling your breast, squeezing your neck, even tilting your own hips up so each of his thrusts hit the sweet spot.

even though he’s on top, you’re directing ji-yong through his actions: “kiss my neck there again.” “go faster, i can take it.” “put my leg up, honey.” and of course, you reward him with compliments when he follows: “that felt really good, ji.” “you’re doing so well for me baby.” he was hanging on to your every word. the noises spilling from him were diabolical— he sounded like a pornstar.

a little greedy, you tease him with a few pulses of your core. ji-yong’s thrusts turn shallow before he pauses, dick spasming inside of you. as little whines left his mouth. your hands find his pelvis, coaxing him to move, but his body falls onto yours and pins you against the couch.

he shudders, “w-wait, please..”, you can feel his muscles flexing on your bare stomach. he’s begging you to not make him cum. he has to screw his eyes shut and focus, else your naked body’s going to teeter him off the edge. he does a quick snap of his hips— but has to immediately pull out and suck in a breath between his teeth. you soothe him, caressing his sides and pressing reassuring kisses to his nape. he frowns at himself. he’s not usually so quick..

“i want it, ji. c’mon,” he huffs out a sheepish laugh. “if you couldn’t tell..” his dick twitches on time. something cruel stirs in you; you snatch his hips and pull him to thrust back into you. his hands fumble in an attempt to restrain you, and he’s out of breaths to say it with words. you’re undeterred, leading him in and out for your own pleasure, and ji-yong can’t help but take it as you grind onto him. his head’s buried into your shoulder, your ear soaking up all of his cries.

“if you keep, ah,.. i can’t—” “go on, hun.” ji-yong tried to move his own hips between your control. he’s a whimpering mess as he cums, laying lifeless on-top of you as warm ropes shoot inside of you. you hum, pleased with him, drawing lines over his back muscles.

“ah, i don’t have the back for this.” that made you chuckle. “you made me feel so good, baby.” he groans, disagreeing about his performance. “no, i’m sorry. you didn’t cum,” he pressed his sweaty forehead into your neck. “sorry, just give me a minute and i’ll, yeah..” his voice was hoarse, still breathless from his orgasm. but he snakes a shaky palm to your cunt and fidgets for your clit. you giggle, moving his hand off of you with a reassuring peck. he had no idea you were about to roll over and ride him till you came.

💌 | @emmiesoverthemoon @kam0p @gguktro @990002 @captain-ducks-swim-in-the-pond

[wendichester]

hi! A fan here! Can you please do a dean x reader where she's a substitute teacher at the school that makes the supernatural play, she turns out to be a hunter as well and she's on the same case as the Winchesters. Thank you so much!

✮⋆˙ the substitute,

summary. the real winchesters come to join the supernatural musical

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 554

notes. thank you so so much for requesting, lovely 😙

The first time Dean sees you, you’re standing at the front of a high school auditorium, wrangling a bunch of teenagers who clearly couldn’t care less about whatever speech you’re giving.

“…And remember, if you forget your lines, just keep going,” you say, clapping your hands. “The audience doesn’t know you messed up unless you tell them.”

Dean leans toward Sam, who’s sitting beside him in the back row. “I don’t get it. Why the hell are we wasting time at a school play?”

Sam sighs. “Because kids keep disappearing from the drama department. And—” He gestures toward the giant banner above the stage.

Supernatural: The Musical!

Dean groans. “Right. ‘Cause that nightmare needed to make a comeback.”

Before Sam can reply, you spot them. Your gaze flickers over the two men in the back, assessing. Then, with a quick word to the students, you step down from the stage and make a beeline for them.

Dean straightens, expecting some kind of lecture about visitor passes or whatever, but when you reach them, you cross your arms and smirk.

“You must be the Winchesters.”

Dean blinks. “Uh—sorry, what?”

You tilt your head. “You guys aren’t as sneaky as you think. And you definitely don’t look like parents of a student here.”

Sam shoots Dean a See? look.

Dean recovers fast, flashing you his signature grin. “Depends. If we say yes, do we get detention?”

You don’t take the bait. Instead, you gesture toward the exit. “Let’s take this outside.”

Dean exchanges a look with Sam before following you into the hallway.

The second the doors swing shut behind them, you turn on your heel. “So, which one of you is the genius who thought it was a good idea to work a case without checking if another hunter was already on it?”

Dean blinks. “Excuse me?”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’ve been here for three weeks investigating these disappearances, and then you two waltz in, stepping all over my toes.”

“You’re a hunter?” Sam asks, surprised.

“Yup.” You pull a small flask from your pocket, unscrewing the lid and taking a swig. “Been tracking this thing since the first kid vanished.”

Dean crosses his arms, studying you. He’s met plenty of hunters in his time, but none quite like you. You seem… comfortable here. Like you actually like the whole teacher thing.

“So, what’s the play?” he asks.

You grin. “Oh, that’s easy. I keep being a responsible adult, and you two try not to traumatize any more students while I figure out where this thing is hiding.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “And what exactly is this thing?”

You hesitate. “Still working on that part.”

Sam frowns. “The bodies—”

“Never found.” You nod. “No sulfur, no EMF, no signs of witchcraft. Just kids vanishing without a trace.”

Dean scratches his jaw, intrigued despite himself. “Alright, teach. You got room for two more on this field trip?”

You smirk. “That depends.”

“On what?”

Your eyes flicker to his. “How well you can follow instructions.”

Dean’s grin is slow and lazy. “Sweetheart, you have no idea how good I am at taking direction.”

Sam groans. “Oh my God.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Fine, Winchester. You’re in.”

And just like that, the case—and whatever this is between you and Dean—just got a whole lot more interesting.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

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[snoopychris]

leave me alone

in which... chris just cant get reader out of his head

inspired by this song!

chris was three drinks in when he saw you walk into the club. they were minimally alcoholic, but it was enough for him to feel a buzz. it felt like his drunkness hit him like a ton of bricks when you walked over to him. he had been fine just a few minutes ago, what had happened during the thirty seconds it took you to walk over? chris swallows as his grip on his drink tightens instinctively, glancing at nick for a lifeline. that’s when chris pieces together that you weren’t here for him. you were here for nick. right. you could still be friends with nick even if you and chris weren’t on speaking terms. chris pushes all of his emotions to the side as he pretends to be okay. just for the night. for his brothers sake. 

the alcohol streaming through him wasn’t doing any wonders right now. he couldn’t help but glance the way you moved on the dance floor. your black dress was incredible on you. it sparkled like you were the only diamond in a jewelry store. chris wanted to know if feeling this way five months after a breakup was normal. if it was normal to have what’s basically a heart attack whenever he locks eyes with you. he hopes it is. 

“chris?” chris hums in response to the voice, whipping is head to find the source. the last thing he expects is to see matt standing with a girl by his side. well, two girls. one to his right and one to his left. how was it possible that matt could get two girls in one night and chris was still struggling to work up the guts to talk to one of them. chris brings up one of his hands to run through his hair, the other extending to the girls next to his brother. matt gestures to the one on the left, smiling gently. “hailey here… is hoping that someone’s gonna take her home tonight. do me a favor and grant that wish for her will you?” matt smiles, heading back into the crowd with the other girl. chris can’t help but chuckle at the fact that matt got him a date. this was a step in the right direction. a step in the direction towards moving on from the girl who had the entire dance floor in a trance. 

“so you’re the youngest triplet?” hailey asks, her hand resting on the small of chris’ neck. the club is so crowded that there’s barely any room to move, but he’s making it work. he nods slowly, his grip on her waist tightening. “yeah… by twenty or so minutes.” he smiles, lips moving close to her ear. she lets out a shaky exhale as he nips on her earlobe, tightening the grip she had on his hair. chris is so close to closing the deal and taking her home that he feels freer than he has in weeks. he feels like there’s nothing restraining him. he feels just fine. it all ends in a flash when he bumps into you while dancing. 

“shit… sorry.” you whisper, sipping your drink as your eyes go between the blonde and chris. you hold back a laugh at the sight, biting down on your bottom lip. the look you give chris at that moment gives him flashbacks to the day you broke up. a day full of yelling and screaming and crying where the last words you said to chris were  “you’ll never be moving on.” he hated how right you still were. Chris felt so sad right now. he didnt feel sad in the way that he thought he was about to cry, but sad in the way that he felt pathetic. he felt pity for himself. he didnt know it was possible for a person to pity themselves until now. “you two have fun tonight…” you whisper, locking eyes with the girl who was seemingly your replacement. “hes a power bottom by the way… hope you can do some squats.” chris feels his breath hitch as you walk away, talking another step in the direction towards moving on from you. he pulls hailey from the dance floor and the club entirely, walking towards the alleyway nearby. she looks a lot like you now that he can see her in slightly better lighting.

Chris, still continuing his move on journey, presses a long passionate kiss to her lips. the alcohol is still coursing through his system, but its a different kind of rush thats going through him right now. this feels right. moving on feels nice. he thinks that maybe, just maybe, hes finally out of the woods and at this point, youre just a thing of the past. when chris pulls away, he smiles at the lip gloss smudge on haileys lips. he licks his own for a brief moment, eyes furrowing as he pieces things together in his mind. “you um… what is that? that lip gloss? thats colourpops cherry glaze lipgloss?” he whispers, rubbing his mouth with the back of his palm. Hailey nods slowly, pulling out the product from her purse and placing it in lips hand.

he’s all too familiar with the packaging. the flavor. the color. the scent. the way it was yours. you had at least three different tubes of it when you were together. one at chris’ place, one in your car, and one in your house. Chris sighs when he realized that he liked kissing hailey so much because it was the closest he would ever get to kissing you again. God, chris hated himself so much right now he could cry. he felt like he was leading the poor girl on by thinking that she was you in his head. he hates himself more because he doesnt let that stop him at all. 

it doesnt take long for chris to end up back at his house with hailey. and yet, it takes a lot longer than he wouldve liked it to take. within seconds of having her inside, shes being pinned to the wall. flashes of you in her place fill chris’ mind. he wants to shout to whichever version of you is haunting him and tell it to stop. to leave him alone. he wants to tell you so desperately that one day youre going to have to leave him alone. but he cant bring himself to. especially since chris knows that deep down, you left him alone months ago. he moans against the girls lips quielty as she slips off his shirt, pulling him further and further through the depths of his house. they end up in his bedroom eventually, quickly jumping onto the bed. Chris goes first, and despite wanting you out of his life, despite wanting to move on, all chris can picture is your naked body next to him.

his eyes dart his bedside table when hes grabbing a condom, holding back a sigh when he lays eyes on the picture frame you had gotten him once. as if that wasnt enough, theres an old bobby pin laying there too. its also yours. Chris doesnt want to begin to think about the amount of things in his room that are all rightfully yours, and thats still where his mind is going. despite having kicked you out months ago for the final time, youre still living in the roots of the room. you had helped him put the bed together. you helped him paint the walls a color he enjoyed. this room would always be part you. the poor girl above him doesnt even know that the entire time that shes doing anything with him, all chris can think about is you. its a relief to chris that this night is probably going to end and he’ll never have to face poor hailey again, but he still wants to keep her around long enough just to be able to have any version of you nearby. 

a/n: this song has actually been stuck in my head all day. this was also supposed to come out last week but. whatever.

tags! @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @bluessturniolo @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @marrykisskilled @cykss @13hoax @riasturns @oopsiedaisydeer @darksturnz @chrisbratt333 @throatgoat4u @whore4mattsturniolo @camzeecorner @joanakaulitz @starrysturns @muwapsturniolo @darksturnz @bernardsbendystraws @strnilolover @ilovedanielcaesar @sturnshood @immaqulate @batbabylolo @lol-milfy

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Part V

The sun shone hot and fresh over a world newly risen. The rabbits ran back and forth between bushes and the smell of earthy green could have powered you for days on end. My heart was hammering from one end of my chest to the other and I flung my bag down.

I had spent too much time at home, wasting my afternoon showering and arguing with my mom. The other two were already in position. Sven and Fern were camped out in the corner of the parking lot, star chart in hand, and taped-together sheets of paper in the other. Fern had tiny bubbly handwriting that scrawled across her own home-made chart of the parking lot, a diagram of the different puddles and landmarks. Sven was tying his boots in a runners position.

Samantha was lying face down on the ground. 

I practically yelled, “We have to get her home!”

Fern adjusted her glasses. “Yes, of course.” She frowned and folded her maps out. “Everything alright?” “Of course. Just showered. A lot.” My frantic breathing did not convey a very long shower, however. Sven gave me a cursory once-over. 

“Beginning soon, I believe.” Sven’s eyes were lasered-ahead.

I nodded, catching my breath and looking between the couple and Samantha. “Hey, do you think we’ll know when we find it? There could be other oceans of, you know, other places.” Dragons, fairies, these vespers they kept talking about.

Maybe even the terrors that haunted my own mother. Sven shrugged and nodded to the middle of the parking lot. “She’ll know.” “Because she won’t come back. Right.” I got down next to Fern and her maps. “Any progress?” “I think it will be in the right corner of the parking lot.” She smiled her tiny tight-lipped smile. “If she arrived 45 days ago, then the alignments have been moving in that direction. Though, I can’t be any more accurate than that.”

“Cool, cool, cool, we’ll start there.”

The Target parking lot had never seemed larger and my thoughts never so close. The house, completely empty when I got back. No more 20 dollar bills left on the counter. No more singing from the basement. I imagined asking Fern and Sven for a ride in their van. But how would Liz or Bethany know? Miss Maudlin would have no one to spy on.

I held my head between my hands. A hand rested on my shoulder and Fern gave my arm a squeeze.

“Look.” The sun streaked through the trees in water-color dark purples and reds. Samantha reared up on her tail. A gasp, clean and loud, came from the bushes. I stood up at the same moment and Sven got into position. 

“Hello?” I called, clutching my own hands. Samantha thrashed her tail and there was someone else close at hand.

Sven shook his head. “Come out and help or stay back. We are doing the forest’s wishes. The mermaid doesn’t want to be here.”

“Harper, honey,” Miss Maudlin stuck her head up. “Is this where you’ve been? Oh my god, that woman has something on her legs. A growth? This is no place for a kid.” “It’s fine!” I ran over to her, sweating and spiraling and pushing down the utter relief flooding my system at seeing her. I had been followed, afterall. Several paces away, Samantha swayed back and forth in place. “Miss Maudlin, this is Samantha. Samantha, Fern, Sven, this is my neighbor.”

No one was really paying attention to introductions, including Miss Maudlin. Her eyes were enormous and she clutched at my hand the second I came close enough. She smelled warm and slightly of chlorine. 

Miss Maudlin’s voice came out in a whisper. “Did you see the pigeons?” I wanted to groan. I knew she was not going to be cool about the pigeons thing.

“The puddles are getting darker, you were right, we were right.” Fern was bouncing on her feet now, holding her map up. Sven was running.

I shook off Miss Maudlin’s grip. “I’ll explain later! You stay right here. We have to go do something good.”

I was off, going to the nearest darkened puddles and doing my best to keep my head in the game. Samantha screeched and thrust her head into a puddle. Miss Maudlin let out her own tiny screech and I would have to deal with that later. “Back, back, and to the right!” Fern was directing us, waving her arms and following behind. “Go to the right!”

I skidded to a stop on my knees and stuck my head in without a second thought. The world went dark and quiet and opened up into a nightmare. Dark as tar and shapes twisted on the other side. A moment of sheer terror passed and I pushed myself out with a gasp, barely stopping a moment to see if there were trees or fish.

“This one isn’t it! Mark it off the map, Fern.” At least, I hoped Samantha didn’t come from a nightmare dimension.

“Got it!” Fern dashed off one of her puddles on the map and stuck her own head into the nearest puddle.

“This one is a no too!” Sven rolled onto his hands and knees and dragged himself to the next one. I followed suit.

My head plunged into an endless blue. I opened my eyes to clouds and thunder and a rumble through the very earth. A creature blinked from up above, feathered and enormous, and I swear, it nodded in my direction.

I came back to gasping and water drenched down my front.

“Only a few more, oh god.” Fern squealed and her map was in inky tatters, but she pointed to the last few in the right corner. “That one next!”

Samantha let out a low moan and I wondered if she knew, she must know, we were trying to help her. As far as we knew, the puddles went quiet once the sun finally set, along with Samantha and all her chances of being where she needed to be.

We reached the end. The very center back of the parking light, right before it became woods again, and I slid to a stop.

I struck my knees on either side of the puddle, rolled up my sleeves, and plunged my head into the ground as the light died all around us. I knew, I knew in the way of cows and cats and things that know when the rain will stop. I opened my eyes and they stung. Blurry shapes moved up above and the light shone, light like ours but not. Dark little droplets, like sugar-coated gumdrops, glimmered. Fish scales.

I came back, gasping and rolling around on the ground like I was on fire. I beat my hands against the cement. “There you are. There they are!”

I was drenched from the top down and flopped into a soggy pile. “It’s here!” I managed as loud as I could, sending nearby birds flying. “I have it!”

Sven and Fern were still on hands and knees, searching. Samantha was all the way on the other side of the parking lot because she had yet to learn a single lesson from the books I read to her. I would forgive her, of course, because she was all alone and there was no one else.

I got to my feet and made a sound like I heard from her, a screech that went up and down. I waved and pointed with both arms. “Here! Come here!”

Though, I realized too late, what she was focused on. Miss Maudlin had come on to the cement and was standing between me and the mermaid. 

“I don’t know what you’re doing here, but this is not a game. You’ll give yourself and these kids tetanus.”

Samantha let out a low hiss and I recognized the look on Samantha’s face: the red one. I was running before I knew it.

—----------------------

I had never touched her before. The lady couldn’t possibly want to be touched after everything she went through. Reared up like a snake and looking at Miss Maudlin, red and angry, and I grabbed her by the shoulder.

“Don’t. You’ll regret it.” The words echoed, backward and forward, the type my dad said to my mom. I took my hands back. “Samantha . . . were so close.”

Samanatha rotated in a gradual drag and her teeth curved. I swallowed, putting my hand to my own throat, and looked her in the face.

“Eeee?” The sound was barely passable, and the guilt spread like a kidney punch. I had no idea what I was saying.

“Honey,” Miss Maudlin said, low and quiet. “She’s not well.” “She really is a mermaid, Miss Maudlin,” I said, without taking my eyes off of Samantha. “And she needs help. There isn’t anyone else.” My heart stuttered in my chest, waiting for that same dusty reply: she’s not. You can’t. There has to be someone else. What about us? Samantha hovered over me like a cloud and I kept our eyes locked. Her chest heaved and she let out that long, low hiss. My heart gave an animal-complaint, the type that told the rest of my body to do animal things like run or hide.

“Eee ee eeee?” I hissed d to the mermaid, hands up. “We’re friends. We can be friends.” I glanced at Miss Maudlin. “We could be.”

Samantha wavered back and forth in place, hands frozen in long claws and teeth catching the last of the light. Maybe she did remember. 

Miss Maudlin dragged in a long rattling breath. “She probably can’t see us very well. If she’s from any kind of ocean.” “It’s salty,” I said, heart leaping in my chest. “She comes from a salty ocean, and,” I dragged out the word, keeping my eyes up and crossing my arms over my chest. “She’s going to lose the chance to go home if she doesn’t follow me right the fuck now.” “Young lady,” Miss Maudlin said, because she was still Miss Maudlin. She sighed. “Here. Red is the longest wavelength. It reaches deep into water, you see. Maybe she can see this.”

Miss Maudlin untied the tiny scarf around her neck, red today, and handed it to me. Samantha leered, but her head jerked back. Fern and Sven were jumping up and down next to the puddle I found.

“I saw it! I saw it too!” Fern hooted, entire outfit drenched.

“Mermaid dimension.” Sven added, reverently, and splashed in the water. “She has to go. There is a home.”

I waved the red scarf back and forth and her deep, dark, cave eyes followed the flickering color. Oh. I thought. Had she been able to see me very well this whole time? I backed up, directing her like I imagined they directed airplanes to landing.

“Home! You’re getting home,” I babbled, waving the red scarf to the right puddle and backing away. Samantha, slithered, whipping her tail back and forth, growling. The minutes had slipped by, her time for raging had passed, and I began to jog. “You’re close! You’re so close.”

It is hard to get any kind of dignified lady to hurry, and everyone needs a little dignity at the end of a long day. Especially if you’re covered in dirt and bird blood. The lady, though, she must have known, must have known at the very end how we were trying to help.

Her eyes followed the red scarf and I danced it over to the right puddle.

“GO!” I shouted. “HOME!”

Her eyes widened, I liked to think, widened infinitesimally. The crooning sound reverberated through my bones, a moan like pigeons themselves, and then she was gone. She leapt headfirst into the puddle and the splash soaked my socks and sent all of us staggering backward. Silence drenched us the next moment, humans lost to something too strange to describe, and we began cheering a moment later.

The sun dipped beneath the world, and the mermaid was gone. —-------------------------------

Sven and Fern needed to get back to their van, I’m not sure they liked Miss Maudlin’s searching gaze, and I was shivering too hard to care. Of course, the sun had to come out followed by one of the coldest nights in summer. The couple handed me the charts they made and gave me a long hug. We promised to visit.

I went back, docile, as a lamb, and we sat on the old woman’s porch.

I changed into my last clean, warm outfit, and Miss Maudlin handed me a big cup of tea. I had seen her so many times, outside on her seat, and I got to look out this time at my own house. It was a pretty shabby place, and the car was parked crooked. 

I studied the stars up above and waited. Miss Maudlin took her time, situating herself on her pillow and leaning back against her seat. She folded her own hands over her lap and I grinned at her. Her smile was hesitant, small, but she grinned back.

I pointed up at the clear night sky. “Fern said that those four stars are called the mermaid constellation.” I hoped this was true, I hoped Fern wasn’t making things up, but it didn’t seem to matter, Miss Maudlin leaned forward and looked up at the sky too. We watched the cluster of stars together.

“Mermaid stars,” the old woman muttered to herself. She snorted. “I suppose there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” I turned and gave Miss Maudlin a searching look. She returned a weak smile. “Hamlet.”

I cocked my head to the side. “I think we’re reading that one next year.”

Miss Maudlin’s smile widened. “You excited, honey?” “I dunno. Are there mermaids in it?”

She laughed, and I joined her and a moment like warm honey spread between us. However nosy she was, it was nice too. She broke the silence first, at last.

“I saw your mother.” 

Never the words you want to hear.

“Yeah?” I took a big first sip of my tea, even as it burned my tongue. I swallowed the screeching in my head. In some ways, it sounded like Samantha.

Miss Maudlin drew another long breath through her nose. “I heard you two yelling.” I took an even bigger sip of burning tea. Miss Maudlin let out the long breath. “I’m sorry.”

My shoulders eased down. It was important sometimes, to hear a sorry even when the other person isn’t the one at fault.

“It’s okay,” I said, feeling magnanimous, happy even. We’d gotten a mermaid home. I was planning on going back the next day to check on the other portals–Sven and Fern would be there too. We’d be like scientists.

“Oh, honey,” I liked the way she said ‘honey’ right then–it was more nice than anything. “Harper, I saw her go. Do you know what you want to do?”

Numbness spread through my limbs all at once, shot through like novacaine. I couldn’t even drink my too-hot tea. I let the silence spread into an infection. The front door of our house was left open and it swung, very gently, back and forth in place. Miss Maudlin leaned forward on her porch chair.

“You don’t have to decide now. But we could call your dad, do you have his number? Know where he is?” “San Francisco,” I managed. “She’s not, I mean, she’s not that bad. Like, I mean, the banks are better than aliens, right? And there’s obviously a lot going on in the universe. Maybe the banks are run by the bad guys and maybe . . .” I trailed off because Miss Maudlin had screwed her mouth up into a tight little knot. Everyone needs you to shut up when you’re making that kind of face. I sighed. “She doesn’t mean it. I mean, all those doomsday preppers on TV, they always mean it, and I don’t think she does. . .” Miss Maudlin shook her head. “I’ve never had kids.”

“I mean, I know that.” “Okay, miss Sass, what I mean is, I’ve been trying to keep an eye on you, but I’m not sure if I ever had the best instincts for it.” “For, uh, being friends?” A nice smile, a nice big smile spread across her face at that. “Friends? Alright. Friends.”

“Yeah, what else? We saved a mermaid together.”

She laughed at that, long and hard, and I was happy to join in, like friends do.

“That’s why I want to stay, even if mom is going through one of her rough patches,” it’s nice to say it out loud. Rough patches. Staying. “All my friends are here and I’m not even sure if my dad wants me.” That felt good to say out loud too.

Miss Maudlin sips her own tea and closes her eyes.

“I’ve never been a mom, but I remember being your age. I remember how everyone told me what to do and how to do it and that there was only one way to do it. But I would have never gotten anywhere if I listened too closely.”

“Gotten to the aquarium, right?” I grinned back and Miss Maudlin opened her eyes.

“You remembered.” “Of course! That’s why I asked you to come with me to the lady.”

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you then, but I’m gonna try and listen now when I ask you this, Miss Harper.” She cleared her throat. “What do you want to do?” I rocked back and forth in place and traced the mermaid constellation with my eyes. I put my mug aside and leaned all the way forward in my chair, still rocking. My mom would be in our basement or found another, better, basement to lock herself away in. Apparently, there were a great number of basements in the world, probably. And a great deal about the world we didn’t know. Mermaids that ate pigeons and puddles that went anywhere, and here I was, trying to decide about a single phone call. Perhaps it was all what my mom wanted to hide us away from even.

The sting in the corner of my eyes prickled like a cut. I wiped at them.

“She’s not a bad person.” “I know, honey, I know.” I balled up my fists. “Bethany and Liz are the only ones that know and have done so much for me. They’ve been here for me, I owe them that much.” Miss Maudlin let out a long, dull sigh. “If you need to come back now and then. . . Well, what’s the point of a spare room if I can’t put a friend up in it?” 

I paused, letting the words wash over me.

“Will you help us investigate the puddles?”

Miss Maudlin snorted. “Couldn’t keep me away if they tried.” She nudged at my side. “A goddamn mermaid, my god.” I giggled. “Goddamn?” “Goddamn mermaid!”

We held each other’s gaze and I let the night soak into my bones and warm my skin and clasped both of my hands.

“My mom doesn’t let me have a cell phone. Do you think we could use yours?”

FIN

------------

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It's Raining in Portland

PART I

It rained in Portland for 45 days straight. They say this might still be normal—even for the off-season. I’ve gone out wandering, as I have every day of summer since I was a kid. My house was empty and the days dragged. I insisted on my green rain boots with frogs on them, showing them off was as good as a downhill bike ride. My bike was broken by then. The other kids were sometimes around, but the days grew longer. They went off to summer camps and vacation and YMCA soccer programs and it was still raining.

I began to bring the lady things on the tenth day. The puddles were turning into little lakes and I needed to make sure to move the car every five days–so I counted. I found her the day Liz left for camp. She was lying face down in the old Target parking lot. Target was supposed to come back to the building but it never did and the place was good for wandering. She was filthy. Hair tangled, coat an unnamable color, gnarled long skirt, and skin rash-y and fever-bright. She was also beautiful, like a fairy tale princess. A storybook face.

The woman had to be middle-aged at least, a weather-beaten kind look about her and silver hair; her high cheekbones and vivid dark eyes captured the soul as my dad might say. She moaned the first time thunder cracked across the sky. She dragged herself across the parking lot and rolled over into a puddle. I circled the area, pointy stick in hand, peeking out behind trees and heel-toe-ing around the cement.

I kept my distance during the first few visits, pretending we were strangers on the bus or like my childhood cat when she followed you into the same room. The woman remained like a corpse on the ground.

The first present I gave her was a can of soup. Everyone needed soup when the weather was bad. I placed it above her head, inching as close as I dare and pushing the can the rest of the way with my stick. Her liquid dark eyes flickered up, searching and wide. She returned to lying face down on the pavement. I frowned. Sure, I didn’t expect a thank you, but still.

The second day I brought her one of my mom’s old raincoats. Everyone needed a raincoat in the freaking rain. I placed it on top of the untouched soup can and didn’t wait to let her groan or moan or look at me with her spooky eyes. I ran off.

When I returned, the campbells can was standing proud and untouched but the lady was covered in my mom’s bright orange raincoat. I bounced on my heels.

“Is it a good fit?”

She didn’t answer. 

I thought of telling someone about the lady in the parking lot. Afterall, she probably needed help and if she took the coat, she might need more. But I stopped in the same breath. Bethany and Liz were at summer camp, the sleep-away kind, and they are the only ones I would trust to not start tattling immediately. If anyone else came, an adult or anyone with a badge, they might start asking questions about my situation. Why am I out wandering? What am I doing all the way out there on my own? You have to cross the big highway to reach the abandoned Target and really it was such a headache to explain the drainage ditch-crossing.

The lady might get in trouble too. What’s with all the headless pigeons in the parking lot? They’d say. That didn’t have to be my lady, though. She just didn’t like soup.

We were on day 20 of the rain and day 10 of me bringing her things. I had to move the car that morning and Miss Maudlin was giving me the stink eye the whole time. I arrived early, bird-early since that’s when I’m supposed to move the car, and didn't even bother to pick up the sharp stick. The mud was thick as honey and the lady dragged herself to a different spot face-down next to the biggest puddle.

“Hey!” I called out like I always do. “Don’t get up or anything. I brought you some socks . . . sorry they’re not shoes or boots or whatever, but they’re dry. I bet you’d like something dry.”

I set the pair of my mom’s good woollen socks next to the soup and backed up, still feeling bad I didn’t have boots. Good boots made a world of difference—my frog ones were testament to that. The lady didn’t even look up this time. She just lay there. I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Are you asleep?” My heart squeezed in my chest. I was going to feel awful if I didn’t tell Miss Maudlin about the corpse-like lady and she became an actual corpse on my watch. Though, Miss Maudlin would be impossible about the pigeon-thing, I already knew.

I sat cross-legged under my umbrella and started munching on my oreos, waiting for her to moan or groan or twitch. “Do you want, uh, something other than soup? I realize I didn’t even leave you a can opener.” The corpse-lady made a valiant effort of acting like a real corpse.

I scooched closer. “I won’t be able to come around every day soon so you’ll have to speak up. Want some Oreos of your own? Blanket? I’ve got some bottled water too, so much bottled water,” I chuckled, “but you’re probably sick of water by now.” The hand at her side appeared to twitch and a part of me relaxed. That was a good thing. I could leave now. But the thing was, I didn’t really want to go. Miss Maudlin wouldn’t even be on her porch giving me the stink eye and I’d already been to the grocery store twice yesterday. I brought out my book.

“I have this summer reading—did you ever do summer reading?—I’m already finished,” I puffed out my chest just a little bit, not enough for the lady to notice, but enough, “but the IB teacher grades like a motherfucker, I hear,” I giggled. The lady’s hand twitched at her side but she didn’t say anything about the swear word which was good of her. “So, I’m, like, reading this one again before term starts.” Which was not entirely true, we wouldn’t be reading One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich until the second semester. She didn’t have to know that. The book was short and punchy and made me say things like, “well, at least I’m not eating rocks in a gulag this fine morning,” which was something. I situated my umbrella, opened the book on my lap, and began reading. At first, I read silently to myself, but the lady had stopped so much as twitching and it worried me all over again.

I flipped to the beginning and read out loud. 

Her big dark eyes dragged up from the pavement. They were red-rimmed and wide as coins. My skin crawled and I cleared my throat. “Did you like it? It’s my favorite of the books.” She, of course, did not answer.

I decided to finish reading the first couple pages to her because I started this whole thing and I didn’t want to bail just because her eyes were big and weird and staring. We got through the opening sections. I left, like I always did, when I got bored.

I avoided the parking lot for the next few days. I wasn’t really in a place to keep bringing her stuff she didn’t want, I told myself, and it had to stop raining eventually. After nearly a month of rain, I went to our basement and knocked hard on the door. I had another note in my hand, this one mostly about the lady and how super done with my summer homework I was, but I found the last three notes still jammed under the door. I glared at the folded pieces of paper until I gave myself a headache and shoved the fourth one in after it. 

When I went back to the lady, I brought the book and a cushion to sit on. Let her find the damn house empty. I sat on the kitchen chair cushion, letting it sink into the soggy ground and not really caring, and cracked open the book. The lady rolled over onto her back and her big dark eyes were focused on the clouds.

“PAGE FOUR,” I said loudly and began reading. Her eyes dragged over to me in a molosess-drip and I offered her a tin of oreos.

Over the last few days, I stuck to my summer reading list, but by the time the weekend arrived I decided there were only so many pages of eating rocks and being mad at guards you can stand. The lady was already out in the rain. I switched over to one of my favorite books. My friends would have made fun of me for a baby book, but I was sure the lady had never read The Tale of Despereaux, and everyone needed to read that once in their life.

She liked it, I thought. I was sitting, as usual, doing what I was going to be doing at home anyway, and introducing the mouse that got me through a lot of boring classes in elementary school. Her hand jerked out in a blur. I jolted and the woman had a bird by the throat. My mouth fell open. The pigeon.

Her teeth were sharp as fish hooks and gently curved. They dug into the neck of the bird in the same way I imagine sharks dug into seals. My mouth fell open. The woman gobbled down the head and belly of the creature and it didn’t have time to make a sound.

“Woah,” I said. In a flash, she tossed aside her meal. You have to admire anything with that kind of efficiency. She scrubbed her face down with the back of her hand, moaned, and rolled over a second time. I scooted to the edge of my cushion.

“Um.” I gripped the book in both hands, raising it like a shield. “Do, uh, you only do that to, uh, birds?”

I didn’t really give her a chance to answer to be fair. I ran off so quick I imagine a little puff of dust came out of my heels. I spent the rest of the day with the curtains down and the door locked like my mom wanted. 

And I would have stayed gone too. However, the next day I got up, got dressed, put on my rainboots, and went to the door. It was another grocery day. My umbrella was missing. My one good umbrella–that also had a frog on it–was gone, and it was still raining. Thirty days of rain and no umbrella!

At least I knew a little more about the parking-lot lady. This time, I brought her a good cloth napkin. Everyone needs a napkin no matter where they live. I should admit I arrived late, very late since I had to spend most of the day talking myself in and out of going. She ate a bird right in front of me! Raw! And probably wasn’t too fond of mice, I had to bet, so The Tale of Despereaux was really not going to be her thing.

Birds cawed and the setting sun broke through the haze. Bits of orange light turned the puddles into watercolor splashes and set the misty air all to golden dust. Some things can be too beautiful–abandoned Targets and grungy puddles cast in orange.

I darted between the pine trees, keeping my head down and eyes wide. Crows, not knowing to fear for their lives, pecked at the ground. The Target stood unlit and empty, surrounded by piles of trash like a noble dying king. There was no one else in sight. I crept toward the largest puddle, eyeing the ground and wishing my lost umbrella wasn’t green. It could have flown off anywhere by now and blended in with the trees.

The light drained out of the world and the first meager stars popped out. I recounted my steps, one, two, three, and swept the area. At least, on the other side of the lot my umbrella was resting at the base of the Target. The top was weighed down by water, and the handle sticking up like a new plant growth. I sped into a run. Without breaking pace, I grabbed the handle, flung the water out, and sprinted into the foliage. My chest heaved and I glanced around, maybe also to check if anyone had seen that.

A shriek split the air. I dug my heels in and teetered to a halt, animal fear shoving its way into my higher functions. Apparently, I was a freeze kind of girl between the fight-flight kinds. My heart pounded dangerously close to being a medical problem and my ears rang. The shriek had the quality of stone against stone, grating and sharp. Sweat dripped down my temple and a long, dark shape dragged itself across the ground in the corner of my eye.

I swallowed a painful lump. She heaved herself across the space and I wished for the life of me that she remembered those wool socks fondly. The lady moved more quickly than I imagined, belly scraping the concrete and face contorted. I took a step back, she really didn’t need socks, actually.

Out from under the long skirt and dirty coat and much cleaner and nicer orange raincoat, was a thick black tail the color of oil spills. Dark as night and shiny, little rainbows catching the last of the light, a muscled tail whipped back and forth. The mermaid dragged herself across the cement and my mouth gaped.

She moved in the way of dreams: unearthly and fast–much faster than expected. A puddle the size of a small minivan pooled near the base of the Target. The mermaid planted her hands on either side, let out a fantastic shriek, and stuck her head into the water. You’d think she’d give herself a concussion, bonking on the ground, but she plunged her princess-pretty face up to the shoulders. She was gone for only a second and then back yowling like a stray cat.

I didn’t run this time. I took one wobbling step back and then another, clutching the handle of my umbrella like a sword. A mermaid! The brightest part of my brain said. You’re about to be alone in the pitch black out here, said the other part of my head. 

The mermaid was crying, I think, crying very hard, when I left her.

------------

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Request Accepted

CCF Spring Break Prompt: Keg | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | CW: Alcohol | Tags: AU, Corroded Coffin Van Tour, Frat Boy Steve, Beach Kegger, Meet Cute, First Kiss

He's pretty. The frat boy currently turned upside down, holding himself up in a keg stand, legs up so high it looks like he doesn't even need much of the help he's being given to stay perched up there in a handstand.

Eddie watches, enthralled. 

Even moreso, when the guy dismounts, and then immediately does a standing backflip. Bowing as the crowd cheers upon sticking the landing.

"Steve's something else," Jeff says from his side, with a chuckle.

"Steve?" Eddie questions. Has Jeff talked to their spring break neighbors? 

"Yeah, he came over earlier. He's nice. We can go down there if we want. We were invited."

Eddie shakes his head. He'd just embarrass himself. He knows damn good and well any guy who looks like that wouldn't be interested in anyone like him. Eddie looks like a Victorian ghost that accidently floated onto the beach, not a sunkissed Greek god like Steve.

Then, a loud, shrill whistle pierces the air, and they both look in that direction.

Steve is standing there waving at them, like he might take his arm out of the socket.

"Jeff! Jeff's friend! Come down here!" Steve yells, hands cupping his mouth, magnifying his voice as he's beckoning them, like he's the announcer on The Price is Right.

And before Eddie can decline, Jeff is standing. 

Well, fine.

Eddie finds himself turned upside down, and the hand sliding up his thigh to hold him up over the keg is large, and warm. Firmly squeezing his thigh, and Eddie can barely concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing.

When he's righted back to the sand, Steve's grinning at him, baseball cap on backwards, and then he claps Eddie on the shoulder, squeezing.

And that's it. Jeff does his keg stand next, and then the party continues. Eddie knows they are welcome to stay, but at the first opportunity, he slinks back down the beach and up into the house. 

Gareth's on the couch, asleep, controller in hand as Goodie's still playing Mario next to him.

"He's been out a while, if you want in on this," Goodie says, but Eddie just shakes his head.

"There's a frat party next door. Jeff stayed," Eddie offers.

"Ew, no," Goodie says, never taking his eyes off the screen. 

And honestly, Eddie feels the same. But Steve was pretty to look at, that's for damn sure.

The next morning, with the sun just coming up, Eddie stands out at the edge of the water, mug of coffee in hand. He doesn't sleep as much as people always think he does.

He likes to see the sunrise.

There's a creak, then the snap of a screen door banging shut. Eddie turns to look, and it's Steve. Standing on the porch next door, shirtless, eating a burrito. He waves, and Eddie waves back.

Steve bounds down the steps of their beach house, and then trudges across the sand. Without his hat, his hair is big, a little greasy and clearly has a mind of its own. Eddie knows how that is, well.

When he reaches Eddie, Steve reaches in the pocket of his cargo shorts, and pulls out another foil wrapped burrito. He hands it to Eddie, and Eddie takes it. 

"Thanks," Eddie says, and then for some reason, offers Steve his coffee mug.

Steve accepts it, cupping it with both hands as he sips on it.

He's a stranger. A guy Eddie saw down the beach, then let prop him up for a keg stand, and now they're sharing a nearly silent breakfast together, like they've done it a million times before.

The burrito is good. Homemade, Eddie thinks, and full of everything you'd want in a breakfast burrito.

"I'm Steve," Steve says.

"Eddie," Eddie says around a mouthful, "this is really good. Thanks."

"Argyle made them," he says, and Eddie doesn't know who that is. Maybe it's a restaurant, and not a person.

And they stand there, shoulder to shoulder as Eddie eats, and Steve sips on Eddie's coffee.

"Where do you go to school?" Steve asks. 

"I don't," Eddie answers, looking over at them, "we're a band. Doing a van tour. Mainly college towns. And they wanted to pause to do spring break. I think they thought we'd end up staying next to some hot girls in bikinis."

"Oh, I'm not that," Steve says with a grin.

"No, no you're not," Eddie says, adding, "I'm not complaining. You have burritos."

And at that, Steve tosses back his head and laughs.

He's so fucking gorgeous.

"So, this tour. Do you accept requests for college towns to stop in?"

The bar is dingy, just like most of them they play in are, but it seems so much brighter with Steve Harrington standing next to the stage. 

Eddie made good on Steve's request, and after the set, Steve rewards him by pressing him into the wall backstage. Eddie reaches up and turns Steve's baseball cap around backwards, an invitation to please fucking kiss him already. It makes Steve grin, and move so his thigh slots between Eddie's legs, mouth lowering to cover his. 

Yes, this.

Eddie tilts his head, ready.

He's sure they look like an odd pair, but he really likes Steve, and loves this thorough kissing Steve's leading them through.

Eddie hooks his fingers in Steve's belt loops, tugging him closer.

He definitely doesn't want him getting away, though there seems to be no fear of that happening. Not with the way he's kissing him. Soft lips, and gentle tongue. Like they're in no hurry, no rush, and Eddie melts into him.

When Steve finally pulls back, lips red and swollen, he cups Eddie's neck with both of his hands, his thumbs stroking Eddie's cheeks, "You wanna come back to my room?"

Eddie definitely wants to do that, and the guys will just have to figure out their own shit for a night.

So, Eddie nods, and Steve kisses him again.

Another preview of what's surely to come.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to read takes on Spring Break prompts, or to offer up your own!

[clarkeybabey]

❝ no seriously get your hands off my man ❞

summary; you don't like the way she acts around him playlist; miss possessive - tate mcrae word count; 1.2k note; this is for @raekensluver as she is in her miniminter era rn, no one else asked for this so its very much self-indulgent, back to our regular scheduled program after this one.

You and Simon enjoyed many parties in your time, much more when you were younger but, if you hadn't shown up for the charity match after-party he would've been given quite a bit of shit as he took charge of setting up almost everything. He's not stopped beaming since he woke you up yesterday with a coffee in hand for you, ensuring you knew it was nearly time to get going so everyone would be checked into the hotel before training.

Danny makes his way over, Ten's arm hooked with his, a blonde girl whose face is vaguely familiar in tow, "Simon!" Danny dabs him up pulling him in to aggressively clap him on the back, Your husband stumbles slightly before straightening up. They go into a loud conversation about the match attempting to speak over the bass-boosted music.

Tennessee and the nameless girl ogling at Simon sidestep around the two men over to you, "Ten, darling, you are glowing," you pause to kiss her cheek before continuing, "And admirable, can't believe you're out. I'd rather be under several duvets and I'm not pregnant." She smiles, shaking her head, "Glowing, no, oily, absolutely. Wouldn't miss it, Danny's floored." The girl behind her clears her throat, reminding you both of her looming presence.

"This is Emma Moran, she was on locked in with us," and that's when it hit you. The insufferable woman from Locked In who couldn't seem to keep her hands to herself when it came to the guys on there with even the slightest bit of clout or interest in anyone but her. She wanted attention, negative or positive, in her eyes any of it would do.

You nod along as she fangirls over your husband and his friends, he had fans so this was nothing new but she seemed to discuss solely followers and how she had been trying to get in on a Sidemen shoot or their podcast since the end of the show but never had success. "Maybe you could put in a word," she smiles too big for it to be real, you find yourself unable to control the way your face twists.

Her blue eyes flit from you to him a few times before settling on his face, "Uh, I can't really do much, I mean, I can mention you?" The words come off your tongue sounding unintentionally bitter, "They honestly do their own thing guest wise, I'm just his wife."

"That'd be nice, thank you," you smile, albeit tight-lipped, the next thing she says catches you completely off guard and based on how her brows knit together, Tennessee was thrown off just as much as you: "He is very nice to look at isn't he?" You narrow your eyes in her direction, doing your best to let the comment roll right off your back, he gets that from hundreds of thousands of girls daily. "Yeah, he is. One of the reasons I married him."

Silence quickly falls among you, and Simon, being only an arm's length away, picks up immediately on your now stiffened form and the abrupt ending of the conversation. Emma senses the awkward tension within the circle "Think I'm gonna go get a drink." Her grin resembles the Cheshire cat as she saunters off to the drink table, and poor Arthur Hill gets roped into a conversation with her.

The hazel-eyed girl watches her slip through the crowd of people and once she deems her out of earshot she's quick to let apologies flow, "I'm so sorry about her, she's so odd." You shake your head, giving her shoulder a squeeze, "Her actions are not your responsibility, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"No really, I knew I shouldn't have introduced her," she fidgets with her fingers quickly becoming anxious, "Ten, it's not your fault. I'm fine, I promise." Fine, yes, shocked at her audacity, absofuckinglutely.

Warmth creeps up your neck and soon your whole face feels hot, but you continue the lighthearted conversation with your friend, trying your best to relay how fine you thought you were. You're partial to crashing out in the middle of a party celebrating your best friends but if you could see her undressing Simon with her eyes at that moment, that feeling might just change.

Your ears perk as Danny excuses himself, wanting to mingle with some others Tennessee mutters more apologies as she follows behind her fiancee. "What was that about?" He quickly asks after they've stepped away. Rolling your eyes at the thought of what she said, your hand finds the back of his neck, ushering him down to your height.

"You see that girl over there?" He hums leaning into your touch, "She's your biggest fan, you know that?" another grunt of acknowledgment rumbles against your back, "Said you're nice to look at."

His bottom lip juts out and his brows shoot up, "Oh, really?" You tell him about how she was eyefucking him while you spoke with Tennessee and while you do so Simon's lips meet the exposed skin of your shoulder, his fingers graze over where his mouth just was, sliding the sequined strap of your little black dress down but not completely off.

Public displays of affection like this were few and far between, not due to a lack of admiration but because you loved so deeply it felt too nice to let the negativity of the outside world taint it. Even in the early years of your relationship back in school, you saved it for when it was just you two, now you keep it for when you know there are no cameras to be shoved in your face to capture such intimate moments. At this very second, something within you was staking its claim over him so everyone was aware he was not up for grabs.

"She's definitely watching," his warm breath fans over the place where your neck meets your shoulder, goosebumps rising in the wake of his words. You meet her baby-blue eyes from across the room, watching as her tongue darts out to wet her lips. He speaks up again, rubbing down your sides, to your hips getting dangerously close to the hem of your dress, "Why don't we get out of here?"

You sigh leaning back into him, "Yes please." He laces your fingers together, his thumb fiddling with your wedding ring, keeping you close as he makes his way through the sea of people.

You stop in your tracks unknowingly close to the refreshment table where she was last seen, "Shouldn't we say goodbye before," you cut yourself off at the sight of Emma's manicured hand on his bicep, "Simon, right?" she plays into faux oblivion, "I never got to introduce myself," before she can continue, he removes her hand from his arm stepping back from her.

He doesn't bother exchanging pleasantries, "I'd love to stay and chat, but we've really got to go." Her mouth hangs open before she can rack her brain for some form of rebuttal he's turned, tightening his grip on your hand. You can't help but turn giving her the same sickeningly sweet smile she shared with you earlier, following it up with a wave as you round the door and are out of sight.

[didhewinkback]

born to run

Anonymous asked: ...soo marathonrry x something old pls ?

Anonymous asked: Something old crumbs ?? 🥺

was requested a few times! these photos are a bit deceptive but leaving them anyway. pls enjoy a something old marathon blurb

word count: lil over 1k

--

He was warm, pressed up against your side, his arm solid around your shoulders, standing so close against you that you could feel as much as hear the Springsteen song he hadn’t stopped singing since you left the karaoke bar. 

“Baby let me in, I want to be your friend, I want to guard your dreams and visions,” he sang, louder than appropriate for the late hour, ignoring your shushes as he leant against you. Solid, warm and heavy.

“H - baby, you gotta put some weight on your feet.” you said with a laugh and he huffed in response as you planted your hand on his hip to try to push him in that direction as you turned down your street. “I know you’re sore but you gotta -”

“I hear you, I hear you. ‘M an athlete, you know. Can handle a bit of walking” he grumbles, speech slurring slightly,  the few drinks he had going straight to his head after all the running he did. The combination of how sore his legs were plus the drinks completely stripping away any sense of equilibrium was proving to be a lethal combination.  

“Today was so cool,” he murmurs as he leans slightly off you and puts more weight on his feet, his arm on your shoulders now a comforting presence rather than the dead weight it was moments ago. 

“Yeah? You had fun?”

“Mhmmm,” he agrees, his head bobbing in more nods than necessary in a way that makes you snort. He takes a deep breath and looks up at the sky and you almost brace yourself for the monologue he’s about to embark on. He’s been quite introspective this evening, dedicating his 4th rendition of Born to Run to his “fellow dreamers & doers, who did what we did best today”. 

“Was amazing.” he continues, as you turn down the walkway to your home, the Tokyo house he bought you both a few years ago, to have a place that feels like yours in a place you both love. “To be with all those people who also trained like I did, all of us running together in one like collective. No matter where we came from, where we were running from, who we were running to. The power of the people while also working for the individual goal, you know?”

You just stare at him for a moment, doing your best to not burst into laughter at his drunken musings, trying to nod in agreement to the deep thoughts he’s having and has been having all night. 

“Alright, Aristotle, let’s get you inside.” you say and you all but carry him up the steps. 

There’s no way you’re going to be able to grab the keys from your purse while he’s all over you like this so you take a few steps forward and turn him slightly, leaning him against the wall next to the front door, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watches and does nothing to help. You prop him up gently, holding up two hands to make sure he’s steady, which he instantly mocks by pretending to fall over, before holding his two hands back up to you to assure you he’s fine.

He crosses his arms over his chest, the medal glinting from the few street lamps visible, still hanging around his neck despite the fact that he fully changed out of his running gear hours ago but, as he said, he “trained for months for this, ‘m not taking this off for weeks”.

You reach into your purse, digging around the bottom for the keys, feeling his gaze on you the entire time. You look up, see him watching you with a soft smile on his face. 

“Thanks for indulging me with all this,” he says softly. “Best wife ever.”

“Wasn’t indulging you in the slightest,” you said with a shake of your head, face flushing at the way he’s looking at you. “What you did today was massive, H. I know I gave you a lot of shit but it was so cool to watch you work for this and then run a fucking marathon today. I’m very proud of you.” 

“Thanks, baby.” he says, still looking at you like you hung the moon and you have to take a deep breath to loosen all the emotions swirling through you from just a look. You’re having no luck with the keys, looking back into your purse, filled with extra gel packets and bandaids just in case one of his sixteen blisters from the day ended up popping at dinner or the bar, finally seeing your keys at the bottom of the mess and pulling them out, feeling his eyes on you the whole time.

“Y’ so beautiful, you know that? I think it all the time and should tell you more. Should tell you everyday, every hour. Your face is just…it’s such a great face.” 

You can’t hold back your laugh at that and suddenly he’s off the wall, latching himself to your back with an arm around your chest as you unlock the door and he follows you in, holding you flush against him.

“Laughing at me, huh? Just trying to love you.” he says, dipping his head down to nudge his nose against your neck, taking a deep breath before he presses his lips to your skin with a hum. “Trying to love on you.”

He drags his lips against your neck, kissing a line up to the corner of your mouth before he brings his free hand up to turn your face towards his and capturing your lips in a kiss. It’s sloppy, the angle’s off and he’s not at his best from a coordination standpoint but what he lacks in technique, he makes up for in passion, the way he seems determined to taste every inch of your mouth lighting your every nerve ending on fire, his groans making your stomach swoop. 

“Y’know this medal says I’m a finisher.” he mumbles against your mouth when he finally pulls away to breathe, pressing a kiss to your cheek and jaw. “Let me show you how well I finish, baby.” 

“Been waiting to say that one all day, have you?”

“You’ve got no idea,” he groans. “C’mon angel, let’s head to bed and have a marathon of our own.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh and he pouts against your neck, his hands doing their best to try to convince you otherwise. “H, you can barely stand.”

“‘S why I’m trying to get us horizontal” he says and you giggle, turning in his hold and cupping his face in your hands. His hands slide down to wrap around your waist, fingers sliding up under the hem of your shirt to draw circles on your skin. You rub your thumb along his pout and he kisses your thumb. You lean in to kiss him, just once, and he follows your head when you pull away. 

“Trust me, there is nothing I would want more than you showing me what you got. That midday shower wasn’t enough.”

“Fuck, that felt so nice though,” he says with a soft moan, memories flashing through both your heads how you helped him relax after the race, sinking to your knees in the shower and taking him into your mouth, his head thrown back against the shower wall as soft grunts left his lips. You’re getting distracted.

“It did,” you agree and his stare is like molten lava looking back at you, hot. “But it’s been a looong day. How about we head to bed and go from there, yeah? I’m going to get you some water, gonna get me some water and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Okay,” he grumbles, kissing you once before stepping back. “Love you.”

“Love you too, marathon man.” you say and his lips quirk up at that, his eyes still looking at you with heat though you can now, as you suspected, see the exhaustion seeping in. 

He heads down the hallway and you head into the kitchen, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet and opening the fridge, pouring water from the filter until the glasses are full, all the while listening carefully for any sudden loud thumping sounds. But it just sounds like his usual bedtime routine so you drink your water, placing your glass in the sink and bringing his with you.

You head down the hallway, carefully flicking off the lights as you go and head into the bedroom where you see him, sprawled on the comforter fast asleep, naked except for the damn medal around his neck. You gently put his on the bedside table and lean over to gently shake his shoulder and he snorts awake with a shake of his head, one eye squinting open at you.

“Fuck, sorry, baby. Didn’t realize how tired I was. Wanted to…” he mumbles, brow furrowing. “I think I’m quite pissed.”

“Yeah, I think so.” you say with a soft laugh. “It’s alright, let’s just get you under the covers, yeah?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, slightly helping but mostly hindering the process as you have to pull down the covers he’s on top of and get them over him, which you finally manage to do. You lean in and kiss him softly.  

“Get some sleep. We’ll have our marathon tomorrow.” you say, kissing him again and he hums into it. “I’ll let you finish wherever you want.”

He honks out a laugh, eyes already closing as he murmurs: “Holding you to that.” He burrows himself into the stack of pillows on the bed and you find yourself just watching him as his breath slowly events out and he falls asleep. 

This man who you love more than anything in the world, who you’ve gotten to spend more time with over the last few years than you ever dreamed possible given the usual insanity of his schedule. You take a deep breath, reaching up to gently run your hands through his hair. Just taking a moment to revel in the normalcy of a day like this.

Getting to just be a girl watching her husband run a marathon and then get way too drunk at the celebrations after. This man finally able to spend some years without the weight of the world on his shoulders. This man who searches out your face in any crowd, who ran to where you stood at the barricade to give you a fist bump at mile 15, who all but collapsed into your arms when he was all done in a time faster than he anticipated, who winked at you as he sung his heart out at karaoke. You’d cheer him on any time, any place. Your man, your man, your man.

--

a/n: not reallllly edited much, just wanted to get something out there took me forever cant believe how short it is. lol lmk what u think!

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[laiqualaurelote]

Charles only agrees to go to the drag show because he’s hungry.

“I know it’s not your scene,” Crystal is saying as she thrusts a flyer into his hands, “but I’ve got to be there for Niko and I don’t want to go alone.”

“Can’t be alone if Niko’s there,” says Charles absently. He wonders if Al Dente still has the two-for-one deal after 10pm.

“She’s tech-ing the show, you dumbass, I don’t want to be sitting in the audience by myself. Don’t worry, it’s super chill. Nobody’s gonna give you a lap dance — well, not unless you want one, that is.”

Charles likes to think he’s being a pretty great ally. Sure, his girlfriend left him for another woman, but he can’t even be mad about it because it’s Niko, who is the best and sweetest person on earth whom Charles could possibly be replaced by. If Niko’s decided to work a drag show, then all those queens are aces in Charles’ book. Which is not how queens and aces normally work, but Charles could use a new normal.

He scans the flyer. Lot of words, font neon and squigglier than he likes, but one name jumps out at him: BARBARA LASAGNA. God, he would die for a lasagna right about now.

“I’m in,” he says. “Meet you at Soho direct on Sunday?”

Charles’ plan was to sit in a corner and not draw attention to himself, but this goes out the window once the club’s owner clocks him. He’s bare-chested beneath a lush fur coat, which he’s somehow decided to combine with a black leather skirt. “First time?” he drawls, looking Charles up and down. 

“Yeah,” says Charles warily. “What’s it to you?”

The bloke chuckles. “Oh, no need for all that, sweetcheeks. First-timers sit in the front row, them’s the rules. We like to give the fresh meat a proper welcome.”

Crystal is barely hiding a grin behind her hand. This is not very chill, Charles tries to telegraph at her with his eyes as they are ushered to a pair of seats at the tip of the thrust stage. When they sit down, a spotlight swivels to catch them in its beam as the rest of the audience cheer. Charles, blinded, squints at the tech booth, where Niko is giving them a thumbs-up. Crystal blows her a kiss. Charles pastes a grin on his face and stretches out his legs, the picture of ain’t-even-bothered.

The show is pretty brills, actually. After Charles gets over being put on the spot, he finds himself enjoying the acts: there’s a Girls Aloud group number, some spectacular high-splits from one Toni Brixton, even a Liz Truss impersonator who has them all rolling in the aisles. Charles is mad impressed by what the girls get up to in those heels. He reckons he’d break an ankle before he got five steps in their shoes.

“And now to class things up in this joint,” says the club owner, who’s also emceeing, as what looks like some kind of vintage dresser is rolled onstage. “Gifting us with her presence tonight — because what’s pasta is present — it’s Barbara Lasagna!” As the crowd goes wild and the lights fall and some kind of old-timey music Charles doesn’t recognise begins to play, the emcee calls out: “Barbara, are you decent?”

“Who, me?” comes this low, musical reply, and then Barbara Lasagna arches up from behind the dresser. She does it so quickly that her cascade of red curls flips over her head in a perfect arc and lands bouncing to frame the angles of her face. She’s sheathed in shimmering black satin which bares her shoulders and her long neck, and the spotlight pools in the carved hollows of her collarbones. She's wearing black gloves that come up to her elbows, and she leans like one long silken comma on the dresser and gazes out at the crowd and quirks one fine eyebrow.

“Sure, I’m decent,” she says.

Charles’ throat is weirdly dry. Should've got a drink before the show started. Barbara swings herself out from behind the dresser and sways down the stage — she’s tall to begin with, but those pumps have got her looming like the bloody Shard — and then she begins to sing. All the other acts were lip-syncs, but Barbara is properly singing, in her whiskey-on-the-rocks voice:

When they had the earthquake in San Francisco back in nineteen-six They said that Mother Nature was up to her old tricks That's the story that went around, but here's the real low-down Put the blame on Mame, boys, put the blame on Mame

She pauses centrestage to let her left hip describe a lazy curl in the air, a half-figure-of-eight. Charles can’t take his eyes off it. She sings, “One night she started to shim and shake — that brought on the Frisco quake”, and twists that hip, a sharp little accent.

Christ, but they’ve really cranked up the heating in here, haven’t they? 

Barbara has come all the way down to the tip of the stage now. Her curls are playing peek-a-boo over one eye, as she begins edging the hem of her left glove down, revealing the creamy skin of her upper arm inch by inch. Charles can’t breathe and he doesn’t know why, but somehow a whole strip show would be less agonising than watching Barbara Lasagna remove a single glove — and then without warning she raises her hand to her rosebud mouth and tears the glove off with her teeth and —

Charles must make some kind of sound then, because Barbara’s smoke-lined eyes snap to him. How she heard him over the music he does not know, but now she’s staring at him and he feels like someone is passing a lighter flame over the hairs on his skin. Barbara drops till she’s perched on the back of her heels — she’s got to have killer thigh strength for that — and then in one smooth movement she pivots off the stage and is towering over him. She drapes the glove over his hand as he sits, frozen. He feels the silk of it slide across his skin. “Mame gave a chump such an ice-cold no,” she sings, and then abruptly she slaps him across the face with the glove. It barely smarts, but Charles feels something hot spike through him from head to toe. “For seven days they shovelled snow—”

And then she’s gone. Through some magical means she’s somehow back up on the stage, whirling the glove like a slingshot before flinging it into the wings, sashaying to her final mark so she can strike her big finish: “Put the blame on Mame, boys — put the blame on Mame!” She pulls off her other glove, holds it taut and triumphant in the air, and then all the lights go out except the followspot, so that all they can see is the curve of her silhouette, and then that’s gone too, and Charles sits there in the dark amid the roar of applause thinking What. The. Fuck. 

('Put the Blame on Mame' is from the 1946 film noir Gilda, starring the legendary Rita Hayworth, whom the Barbara Lasagna photo reminded me of. This and @tumblerislovetumblerislife's art have driven me insane, actually.)

why yes i'm normal about ms barbara lasagna, why do you ask

(credit to @laiqualaurelote for coming up with the edwin/jessica rabbit quote!)

[hrrtshape]

HI! i just wanted to ask, i’ve been working on a script, and i’ve been pretty clear about the ‘vibe’ as u said, and not much about the details. i have zero method when my head hits the pillow, i just think about my dr and drown out my cr. but sometimes i’m fumbling for things to think about! i don’t know why that happens… when i’m scrolling through pinterest it’s like my brain is bursting at the seams, but when i lay down at night, it goes quiet and doesn’t make me FEEL like i’m there. i’m not sure if i’m doing something wrong, or if my approach is right. do u perchance have any wise words for me 🙏🙏❓

sooo you’re not doing anything wrong. like at all. your approach is fine, your brain is just doing that thing where it decides to be inconvenient for no reason. classic.

what’s happening is probably just a shift (ha) in stimulus. pinterest is a flood, lying down in the dark is a drought. your brain is used to reacting to visuals, but when you’re in bed, it’s all on you to generate the feeling. no external prompts, no autoplay, just vibes.

solution is to bring the pinterest energy into your night. replay images, but don’t just see them. immerse. if you’re scrolling and you see a dress, don’t just admire it. imagine adjusting the fabric, feeling the weight of it, hearing the whisper of the material as you move. if it’s a place, don’t just look, be there. what’s the temperature? what’s under your feet?

basically, give your brain the script before bed so it has something to work with. you’re not fumbling because you’re doing it wrong, you’re just expecting your mind to go from 100 to self-directed lucidity in five seconds flat. ease into it. build the scene before you hit the pillow.

i have full faith in your shifting supremacy

[honeyscara]

Rainy mornings — Oikawa tooru

-haikyuu

Synopsis: a morning with your dramatic bf | oikawa x female reader, fluff

~1k words | my masterlist for haikyu|

The soft patter of rain against the window was the first thing you noticed when you stirred awake. The gray morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a cool, muted glow over the room. You shifted slightly under the blanket, the warmth beside you making it impossible to move too far.

Oikawa lay next to you, half-asleep, his messy brown hair sticking up in different directions. His face was relaxed, lips slightly parted, and his breathing slow and steady. One of his arms was lazily draped over your waist, holding you close as if he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

You turned slightly, brushing a hand through his soft hair, and he made a sleepy sound of protest, nuzzling his face into the pillow.

“Mmm… too early,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. “Stay here.”

“It’s already morning,” you whispered, smiling.

Oikawa cracked one eye open, barely, before shutting it again. “Morning doesn’t exist when it’s raining,” he mumbled, tightening his hold on you. “It’s the law. We have to sleep in.”

You chuckled, feeling the vibrations of his voice against your skin. “Oh? And who made that law?”

“Me.” His voice was smug, but drowsy, the last syllable dragging as he tried to keep from slipping back into sleep.

You sighed dramatically. “Well, if it’s a law, I guess I have no choice.” Oikawa hummed in approval, a soft smile playing at his lips as he buried his face against your shoulder.

The rain continued to fall outside, and with Oikawa holding you close, the world beyond the warmth of the bed could wait just a little longer.

"still sore from yesterday's match tooru?" you asked after a while. Oikawa let out a low whine, burying his face deeper into your shoulder. “Don’t remind me,” he mumbled, voice muffled against your skin.

You ran a hand gently down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles even through the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you said, amused.

He sighed dramatically, shifting just enough to peek up at you through half-lidded eyes. “My legs feel like they’re made of lead. My back is stiff. And worst of all,” he paused, lips curling into a pout, “you’re bullying me first thing in the morning.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’m not bullying you. I’m being a very loving and concerned partner.”

Oikawa let out a sleepy chuckle, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your waist. “Then as my very loving and concerned partner, shouldn’t you be taking care of me?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what exactly does His Highness want?”

He hummed, clearly enjoying your attention. “A massage,” he declared, stretching slightly before groaning at the soreness in his body. “And maybe some breakfast in bed. And cuddles. Lots of cuddles.”

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You’re so needy in the morning.”

Oikawa only smiled, eyes fluttering shut again as he nuzzled closer. “Only because I have the best person to be needy with.”

You sighed dramatically, dragging your fingers through his messy hair. "Fine, fine. I’ll give you a massage, but breakfast in bed is pushing it."

Oikawa let out a satisfied hum, shifting onto his stomach and burying his face into the pillow. “Mmm, That’s my good girl.”

Shaking your head, you straddled his lower back, your hands smoothing over his tense shoulders. The rain outside only added to the cozy atmosphere as you slowly began working the knots out of his muscles, pressing your thumbs into the stiff areas.

He let out a deep groan, his whole body melting beneath your touch. "That feels so good,” he mumbled, voice muffled by the pillow.

You smirked. "What would you do without me, Tooru?"

"Wither away,” he said dramatically, turning his head to the side so he could look up at you with tired, pleading eyes. “You’re the only thing keeping me alive right now.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at your lips. "You're so dramatic."

"And you're perfect darling," he shot back, his voice softer now, laced with genuine affection.

Your heart fluttered at how effortlessly he said it, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You softened your touch, kneading the sore spots on his back more gently this time. The rain outside kept falling in a rhythmic patter, and the quiet intimacy of the moment wrapped around you both like a warm blanket.

Oikawa sighed contentedly. "You know," he murmured, voice thick with drowsiness again, "if you keep spoiling me like this, I might just fall back asleep with you."

You leaned down, letting your lips ghost against his ear. "Then who's going to make us breakfast?"

He groaned, turning onto his side so he could face you, his brown eyes still heavy with sleep. "Can't we just stay like this all day?"

You smiled, brushing his hair away from his face. "Tempting, but you’d probably complain about being hungry within the hour."

Oikawa gasped, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. "You make me sound so predictable."

"You are predictable," you teased, poking his forehead.

He pouted before wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you down against his chest. "Fine. Five more minutes, and then we can get up," he bargained.

You sighed, knowing full well that "five minutes" would turn into ten, then twenty. But as the rain continued to fall, and Oikawa held you close, warm and content, you figured there was no harm in staying just a little longer.

Soft Oikawa hours

[viesin]

why was this my first time reading it lmfaoo. i luv how we all internalised jjun as bi from the very core of this fandom. even c.ai and chai, there's more bl than straight roms i can find. i get it, he iZ the type to take it and take it pretty fking well.

soobin 1 reminded me of ur one post "sunmi gaybaits so vaguely..." and honestly me too im so queerbaiting irl i managed to attract soft femmes but i'll go and date a basic man and he'll go dating basic woman. we'll cross paths midway, highfive each other then go opposite direction.

everytime.. every single time i fall for sum emo sub with long hair, their canons r always hardcore goth dom baddy fems. ever thought of me? our awkward sex while we both act clueless fkers fighting to be pillow princess? no representation aish. fine i'll give him what he wants

tyun is straight as my warped dih, no he's not. he is just waiting to be thrown around by a bigger species

satanist hyuka hits way too hard. yes yes and yes! dry humping thigh riding hyuka for the win

❝ EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD IS INHERENTLY GAY—

𑁤 basically i ramble about whether i think if each person like would take it in the ass, or about their sexuality or whatever. this is not meant to be smutty and for THE LOVE OF GOD—this is meant to be taken as a joke!

⋆｡YEONJUN!

bisexual king.

would take it in the ass as well as fuck an ass.

sometimes both at once perhaps.

⋆｡SOOBIN!

he gaybaits with his cuteness to get his shit done for any gender as there is

but he'd not take it in the ass.

sometimes he gives me penisless asexual straight king vibes.

imagine he's freaky deaky

probably but proof soobin or it didn't happen 😤

⋆｡ BEOMGYU!

pansexual king.

like idk feel like he might even get off to a REALLY good heart to heart conversation tbh and i stan bc of that

but since pansexual i feel like he'd be down to take anything like dick, strap or etc (cucumber and more)

i personally feel like he'd love a femme dom with a strap

⋆｡ TAEHYUN!

sometimes he's so straight that he would start gaslighting himself asking if he's internalised homophobe or not

(he's not)

which would lead to his katy perry "i kissed a girl moment."

normal girl sleepover shit

until he realises that he just feels for his homies as a nice human being he is and not bc he wants to get his dick wet

straight probably

⋆｡HUENING KAI!

JUST WHAT ARE YOU BOY?!?

he could be a satanist and we wouldn't have a fucking clue.

but i feel like he'd be into a really good love making session.

he probably gets off to missionary position porn

which is so sweet like aw kissing and shit like you gotta be in LOVE

okay but dry humping

he'd be into that i feel like

about taking it in the ass

he might :)

2023 ELAICHOI.

[imagineweasley]

please play the audio while reading.

We'll be Alright.

harry x reader, after the battle.

word count: 1k

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The sun broke over the horizon, casting blinding rays through the large window in the Great Hall and over the triumphant scene. There was so much movement, so much celebration going on, but you were frozen to your spot.

In the past hour, you had experienced the most agonizing pain in your heart that not even the Cruciatus curse could recreate when you saw him laying limp in Hagrid's arms. You had let out a cry that had torn every cell of your body apart, a cry that ripped out the hearts of everyone who could hear it.

Then, his resurrection, and then his defeat of Voldemort. The flash of light that had ended it all.

The students were in an uproar around you, jumping up and down, shooting celebratory sparks into the air, crying and holding each other, but you couldn't move.

You swayed on your feet and Hermione gripped you tight to hold you up. Your body was frozen, except for your eyes darting around the crowd. They were looking for one person, and one person only. You barely felt the grip on your arms as your breath quickened.

And suddenly, there it was. A mess of black hair, dusty from the rubble and dirt, pushing through the crowd, desperately moving in your direction. Hands were stretching towards him; everyone wanted to see a glimpse of him, to feel his heroic presence, the only thing on his mind was you.

Everything slowed down.

You could feel your heartbeat thudding against your ribcage and all the noise around you muffled. All you wanted to do was push through towards that black hair, towards the person trying to reach you, your limbs betrayed you. You could not feel anything in them and you could not move them.

A flash of green.

The sight of those all-too familiar green eyes, filled with tears of the desperation his body was moving with, broke your trance. You had no time to think before your body broke out of Hermione's hold and started pushing through the crowd. Upon seeing your face, the crowd parted for you. They knew who you were and who you were running to.

You were running to him. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the love of your life, your entire past, present, and future.

"HARRY!" His name exploded through your lips, and your vision was blurry with tears, but you kept your sight on the green.

"Please, please, I need to get to her, PLEASE!" Harry was swimming desperately through the crowd now, pleading with them because he, couldn't, wouldn't survive unless he got to you. His cries ripped out of his soul, and he felt as if it would tear it in two.

He was only a few feet away from you now. You couldn't wait those milliseconds it would take to reach him, and threw yourself through that last stretch of distance. He pushed through those last couple of feet, and you crashed into each other. He threw his arms around you, swallowing your entire being. Your hands flew around him and the force lifted your feet off the ground. He was sobbing into your neck and you were drenching his shoulder with your tears, which were running uncontrollably down your face. He cries were an agonizingly beautiful sound that was proof of the love that Dumbledore had spoken endlessly about. The love that keeps life alive.

The pang of loneliness the little boy felt in the cupboard at the Dursley's, the countless moments of fear he had felt over the past seven years, the terror that had filled him through the past couple of months when he was fulfilling his mission, all spilled out of him.

When he was away from you, he knew that at any moment, he could die before holding you one last time, without hearing your laugh again. When he heard your voice on that radio, he clung to every second that he could hear your voice. When he held onto that last memory with you at the Burrow, that one last tear-filled kiss you had shared, he felt glints of hope. With that kiss, you had poured your love into his soul, hoping it would protect him just like his mother's had.

When he had walked into that clearing, he did not have you by his side, and yet the only thought in his mind was that with this sacrifice, he would be able to save you. He walked in with his head held up high, surrounded by his family, your smile filling his mind's eye and melting his fear. With that, he met Death with open arms.

For the past few months, he had been surviving, not living, and he was finally sacrificing it with zero hesitation for you. He knew he was sacrificing the future you two had imagined in quiet, peaceful moments of escape, but at least you would have a future even if it was not with him.

The shackles around his wrists and ankles finally broke open, and he was reborn. He sank down to his knees, holding you as fiercely as he could, kissing your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, any surface of you he could find.

You sank down with him. You were gripping his shirt and any part of him that you could grab onto. Your lips found each other and he kissed you with all the energy of the ones he had been unable to give you since that moment in the Burrow. One hand held the back of your head to bring you closer, the other was wrapped around your waist so nothing could tear you away from him again. Your fingers tangled in his mess of hair and everything was gone. All the noise and all the chaos disappeared and nothing existed in this world except for you two.

Perhaps it was love like this that had held this broken world together.

Perhaps it was love like this that would heal it over and over again, for as long as that love still existed.

It had been a lifetime since he had been able to hold you like this, and finally, he could see it all: his fate, to hold you like this for the rest of this life and each one after.

We'll be alright.

--

author's note: i kept my thoughts until the end so it wouldn't interrupt the flow of the story. "fine line" is one of my favorite songs of all time. it rips my soul in two and puts it back together all in six minutes and eighteen seconds.

i hope you enjoyed this! it's the first time i've done something like this, and i absolutely loved it. i'll definitely be doing many more in the future.