#might bring it to class tomorrow

[prjctdiva]

side order released TONIGHT????

[teenagefeeling]

found a blog post by some random computer science professor who happened to also hate the book i just read for class and i swear to god if i ever meet this man i'm buying him dinner or sucking his dick or something i feel so vindicated

[shatterthefragments]

“Might pass out” (don’t worry I have since consumed sustenance)

Famous words from an idiot that hasn’t eaten in nearly 20 hours. (I’m fine I’m eating. I just passed out after dinner and woke up hungry but 3am is too disruptive to the rest of the house to make myself food. And then I fell back asleep and am only getting up now).

For now sugary coffee to stay upright. Quick shower. Then super looking forward to French toast :)

Anyway should I apply to a job in Montreal? Absolutely not (my French is awful and I can’t afford to move) BUT the music is far more plentiful/accessible there. (Also I couldn’t live there due to smoke and heat) but I want out (DIFFERENT problems!!!) if it weren’t for the fact that their career page hadn’t been updated for 8 years I would probably actually apply though 😬

Wish me luck I guess.

…fuck. And I’m supposed to pay a bill today. But. It’s not due yet and idk if I can or if one of the parents *the people on the property* must be present and mum is too stressed to make that call today… and someone has to be home while the neighbourhood exterminator or whatever we got swindled bandwagoned into joining for a special neighbourhood rare or whatever is here.

If I keep myself too busy to have a proper breakdown… …idk. Dragging myself kicking and screaming to the things that I enjoy doing and whatnot :P

Anyway. I will take suggestions for driving music for today if you have something I really need to listen to 👀 (I’ll be driving at minimum an hour between all the stops I have to make) (otherwise probably idk. Maybe lilyisthatyou all daaaaaaay)

[lizzardtown]

University is really bad for me it's making me listen to too much Morrissey

[boycannibal]

going to bed all resentful like i do NOT want to go to bed im so mad. but also i really dont want to feel tomorrow morning as bad as i did today

[itsaintmebabe]

don’t smile

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ pairing: lando norris x singer!reader

summary: one of f1’s favorite couples, lando norris and y/n, breaks up unexpectedly leaving not only fans confused but you as well

notes: this might be really stupid but idc! lando won the monaco gp which was crazy!! <3

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ masterlist / social media au / fc: sabrina carpenter

liked by yourbff, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,964,729 others

yourusername ‘don’t smile’ is yours now <3

view all comments

user15 guys why hasn’t lando liked yet

user4 HES SO ALWAYS SO THISTY IN THE COMMENTS WHERE IS HE

user29 all the pics of lando are gone…

↳ user9 don’t say that my lany/n heart

user12 stop the lyrics

↳ user32 omg what???

↳ user12 “don't smile because it happened, baby, cry because it's over” and yall expect me to believe lando and her didn’t break up

yourbff girl if you don’t block him…

↳ yourusername don’t rush me katie i’m just not ready (pls get the reference)

↳ user63 BLOCK WHO

alexandrasaintmleux i feel like i missed a few chapters

↳ yourusername girl LET ME TELL YOU

↳ user56 NO SHARE WITH THE CLASS

↳ user90 literally begging on my knees for it not to be about lando

liked by user23, user64 and 724,029 others

y/nupdates y/n seen at airport heading to paris

view all comments

user12 so she’s not going to the miami gp

user34 she literally said last week she was gonna go with lando to miami what the hell happened

user9 i don’t think i’ve ever seen y/n cover her face that much

↳ user17 her eyes look kinda puffy too☹️

yourusername just added to their close friends story!

liked alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and 2,492,708 others

yourusername i’m a busy woman

view all comments

user34 i fear this is the end of lany/n

user11 does this mean more new music???

user23 miss girl really said i’m not wasting any tears on no man i’m in paris

↳ yourusername you’d be surprised lol (comment has been deleted)

↳ user48 NO QUEEN NEVER CRY

user37 missed seeing y/n in the paddock ngl

↳ user52 no cause can you imagine her fit for race day tomorrow i know she would’ve eaten it up

alexandrasaintmleux leo and i miss you in the paddock :(

↳ yourusername play date for bambi and leo soon!! miss u more bae

↳ user62 Y/N GOT BAMBI IN THE DIVORCE

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 2,389,528 others

lando good work this weekend imola next

view all comments

user16 papaya on top!!!

user23 how he didn’t blind anyone with that helmet is beyond me

user34 y/n still liking is hurting my heart

↳ user73 literally the best f1 couple need them back

↳ user96 don’t disrespect alex and lily like that

user31 bring y/n back

mclaren no one beats a landoscar double podium

yourusername just added to their close friends story!

liked by user12, user85 and 882,905 others

y/nupdates y/n in imola with dog bambi a few days ahead of the imola grand prix

view all comments

user19 “y/n and lando are still together!!” i scream as they drag me into a white padded room

user23 i’m so confused

↳ yourbff you and me both girl

↳ user49 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user37 no cause y/n still follows lando and likes his posts but lando doesn’t follow y/n or like her posts it’s so weird

user40 bambi has no clue his parents are divorced

user95 honestly praying y/n and lando being broken up is some big april fools joke

↳ user6 babe it’s may

yourusername just added to their close friends story!

liked by yourusername, yourbff and 2,951,087 others

lando never taking her for granted again

view all comments

user81 THANK THE LORD

user28 literally stood up and clapped during my chem lecture

user16 y/n let me know if he’s bothering you queen

user19 lando almost lost a baddie

↳ yourbff no HE DID lose a baddie

↳ lando but i persevered

↳ yourusername on thin ice tho

user47 lando better worshiping the ground she walks on now

yourusername bambi’s parents no longer divorced!!!

[longroadstonowhere]

i kinda think maybe i should've done more academic work in the last forty eight hours

but also i think i disassociated for a decent chunk of that time, and work was very quiet, and i just did seven ish weeks where i had half a day off, so, you know, maybe i should let myself acknowledge that i needed a bit of a break

[agreeewrites]

DESPERATELY need to see your take on poly wolfstar smut. sorry if thats too broad but youre an amazing writer and i just need to see you bring it to life.

had me at poly wolfstar 🫡

LOCKJAW | poly!wolfstar

feat. poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

CW: MDNI 18+, no plot just smut. oral, piv, dirty talk, cursing, softdom!Remus, switch!Sirius

AN: bc I can't get the damn tiktok audio out of my head

masterlist

Sirius was draped face down across your lap, nuzzling into the crease of your hip while his hands kneaded your thighs.

“Sirius, quit squirming,” you huffed, lifting your book to glare down at him.

“Can't get comfy,” he mumbled, lifting the hem of your shirt to bury his nose into your skin, the tip of it like an ice cube.

“Sirius! Merlin, you're a handful,” you rolled your eyes and looked towards Remus for assistance. He was stretched on the other end of the bed, watching the two of you over his own book. Sirius’ feet were in his lap, tucked between his thighs for warmth.

Remus tsked under his breath, pinching Sirius’ calf and earning an annoyed grunt. “Leave her alone, Pads. She has an exam tomorrow.”

“But I love heeeerrrr,” Sirius whined, clutching you tighter. “Smells s’good,” he hummed.

Remus shook his head, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, dove. I tried.”

Sirius had been a needy, pouting wretch all day. You woke up with his morning wood digging into your stomach, his hips twitching in his sleep as soft, mumbled moans dripped like honey from his lips. Any other morning, you would have taken full advantage of your drowsy, wanton boyfriend, but when you checked Rem’s watch on the side table, you realized the three of you were about to late to Charms…again.

And later in class, Sirius seemed incapable of focusing, every spare scrap of attention he had devoted to you or Remus, or both of you. Studying your hands as you wrote, groping beneath your robes to squeeze your flesh, nuzzling into your necks, whining pitifully in your ears. He even pulled you into his lap during Potions, his boner pressed against your uncovered heat for a dizzying, thrilling moment, before Slughorn kicked him out for being a nuisance.

At dinner, Sirius was practically eating out of your hands, desperate for even a little contact, an ounce of physical touch. By then, you and Remus had put together what was ailing your poor boy and started to play along, keying him up even further only to deny him the smallest satisfaction.

You fed Sirius grapes, bits of bread and cheese, but wouldn't let his lips touch your fingers. Remus rested a hand on Sirius’ lower thigh, tracing the bones of his knee through the hole in his jeans, but didn't dare twitch a finger higher, no matter how much Sirius whined and squirmed. You'd even given Remus a full kiss when you'd returned to the common room, tugging at his lower lip with your teeth the way you knew Sirius liked, but only gave Sirius a chaste peck, leaving him dumbstruck at the bottom of the stairs.

If you didn't relieve him soon, you feared he might combust.

You glanced up at Remus again, and he caught your eye. “Ready?” You mouthed, and Remus nodded with a sly smirk.

With deft fingers, Remus started massaging Sirius' feet and calves, increasing the pressure until Sirius was moaning against your skin, going languid in your lap with a pleased hum.

“That feel good, baby?” You cooed, running your fingers through Sirius hair. “Rem is so good with his hands, isn't he?”

Sirius nodded, his hips twitching into the mattress as Remus worked higher, pushing his thumbs up the back of Sirius' thighs in a straight line

“So tense, pet,” Remus hummed.

“Because you cunts have been torturing me all day,” he huffed, but it was toothless, softened by the breathless edge of his voice.

“Torturing you? I would never do such a thing,” you pouted, feigning indignation.

Sirius nipped at your hip before laving his tongue over the sting. “I know you felt me this morning,” he chastised, pulling down the waistband of your skirt to kiss along your hips.

“Yeah, I felt we were all going to get detention for being late to Charms,” you said, trying to ignore the blooming heat between your legs from his touch.

“Would've been worth it,” he grumbled.

“You’re right, maybe you wouldn't have been such a needy brat all day.” Remus tickled the bottom of Sirius foot and he yelped, flipping over onto his back to try and bat Remus away, but you held down his shoulders, keeping his upper body in your lap.

“You can't let him get away with—oh fuck,” Sirius' complaint was interrupted by Remus gliding his fingers between Sirius’ thighs, caressing over the thick ridge in his pajamas bottoms.

“You want me to stop him?” You asked, batting your lashes, and Sirius shook his head side to side vigorously, his hair falling across his face.

“Don't you dare stop,” he whined, canting his hips into Remus' palm.

“Poor thing,” Remus cooed, trailing his finger through the puddle of precum bleeding through the fabric of Sirius' pants. “Been suffering all day at the hands of our beautiful girl.”

You scoffed, unable to stop the grin rising on your lips. “Me? You were the one that wore that slutty little sweater vest.”

“It was temperate today! You were the one that conveniently forgot underwear this morning,” Remus shot back, winking at you.

“You what?” Sirius squawked, jolting upright to glare at you. “And you didn't tell me?!”

You shrugged, toying with the hem of your skirt. “Didn't think it was relevant.”

Sirius gaped at you and Remus snickered. “That is the meanest thing you've ever said to me,” Sirius said, clutching his heart. “Like you don't even know me.”

Remus shifted to lay between Sirius' legs, licking a stripe up his cock over his pants, distracting him from his tirade. Sirius collapsed back onto the bed with a moan, and you slipped off the edge of it before he trapped you beneath him again.

“Oh, we know you well enough, Pads,” Remus chuckled, mouthing at the head of his cock. “Don't we, dove?”

You nodded, stroking Sirius’ hair out of his face while Remus toyed with him. His eyes were half-lidded, cheeks flushed, fisting the quilt beneath him.

“Rem, don't tease me,” he whined, the muscles along his abdomen tight with the strain of keeping still.

“But you like it,” Remus said matter-of-factly. “That's why you kept up with whiny puppy-dog thing instead of just asking.”

Sirius huffed, looking at you for help, his green eyes pleading.

“We love you, Sirius,” you said, bending down to kiss his forehead. “And if you need something, just ask, yeah?”

“We're here to make you happy,” Remus added, dragging down his waistband of Sirius' pants to kiss along his hip bones.

“Just need you two,” Sirius panted, reaching for you while Remus licked up the smear of precum along his pelvis. “Please, baby.”

You unzipped your skirt and let it fall to the floor, showing Sirius the drooling, sticky mess between your legs that his desperation inspired, and he groaned, his pupils dilating instantly.

Remus chuckled. “Look how hard that made him, darling. Making a mess of himself,” he teased, though his eyes were locked between your legs too while his tongue traced over the root of Sirius. Another flush of arousal made you pussy throb, and Sirius practically whimpered.

“If you don't bring that sweet pussy over here now,” Sirius warned, grabbing you by the hip to tug you closer.

As soon as you kneeled back onto the bed, he yanked you over his face, throwing one leg on either side of his head so you were facing Remus, who had paused his own work to watch you through heavy lashes.

Sirius immediately laved his tongue through your soaked slit, a deep rumble of satisfaction reverberating from his chest when you cried out, bucking against his tongue.

“This what you wanted, pet?” Remus said, spitting on Sirius' cock and stroking it with his fist. “To be smothered by us?”

You felt Sirius nod, his tongue fucking into your sloppy channel with ruthless, hungry precision, his fingers digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open. Syrupy thick pleasure pulsed through you, making your toes curl and your head fall back while he drank from you, fiendish as a vampire.

“Take your blouse off, pretty girl. Let me see you,” Remus instructed, using his thumb to massage under the head of Sirius' cock, making him whine and twitch beneath you.

You obliged, fingers clumsy as your arousal deepened. You tossed your blouse off the bed, followed quickly by your bra, and Sirius’ hands immediately shot up to grope and paw at your chest.

Delicious, spiralling heat surged through you when he tweaked your nipples, his tongue moving to circle your clit, his nose pressed against your entrance. Sirius was a master with his mouth, and his eagerness only made him more merciless in the hunt for your release.

You leaned forward, resting on your forearms on either side of Sirius' hips, and licked a stripe up his cock, tasting the heady combination of Sirius and Remus' drool.

Sirius cried out, his hips bucking up at the unexpected contact, and you giggled, repeating the motion.

“I c-can't take both of you—” his protest fractured when Remus licked along his base, your mouth suckling the head, and his cock gave a hard lurch as more blood rushed south. “Fucking saints, so good.” He dove back into your pussy, sucking your clit between his teeth and lashing it with his tongue, payback for your dirty tricks.

You cried out, spine arching as he devoured you and you felt your peak start to build, a steady stacking of pleasure that grew more precarious, more overwhelming, by the second.

“You're perfect,” Remus hummed in appreciation, lifting from Sirius’ cock to give you a messy kiss, his tongue tracing your lips before licking into your mouth, making you loose your breath.

After a few moments, and a whine in protest from Sirius, Remus broke the kiss and turned his attention back to your needy boyfriend, finally taking all of him into his mouth with a smooth, practiced swallow.

“Merlin, Moony, fuck,” Sirius grunted. “So tight.”

You combed your fingers through Remus' hair as he sucked Sirius, earning a sweet hum from your sandy haired love.

“You're perfect too, Remy,” you cooed, trying to distract yourself from your mounting orgasm. “My beautiful boy.” You kissed along his jaw, feeling the tension and tremble as he worked Sirius deeper into his throat. You saw his hips twitch, his hands fisting the sheets. “Finish him off and then you can fuck me just how you like. How's that sound?” You purred in his ear and he groaned, creating a domino effect of moans as the vibrations worked through each of you.

You felt two fingers prod at your entrance and you keened, feeling Sirius sink to the knuckle and scissor your open with his long fingers.

“Shit, Siri,” you whined, rocking back into his hand while his tongue lashed your swelling bud.

“Want you to come all over my face, darling. Taste so good, need—fuck—need it so bad,” he mumbled against your sex, lapping at the creamy mess his fingers coaxed from you.

You rested your head on Sirius’ hip, watching Remus gag on his length through a rosy haze, the combined stimulus making your mind you fuzzy, your heart pound. It was too much, an onslaught of erotic sensation, and your body was pulling apart at the seams, nerves fracturing under the strain—

You came with a scream, trying to muffle the sound into Sirius’ skin as you shattered, a gush of moisture surging from you at the intensity. You were rendered matterless, a floating speck of dust, drifting on the current of the stars.

Sirius grunted beneath you, his muscles tensing in a wave, and he bucked hard into Remus' throat, the root of his cock pulsing as he came a heartbeat after you.

Remus took it all in stride, milking Sirius with his mouth while petting your hair as you came down, tethering you both to the earth.

When you were finished, you slumped sideways onto the bed, panting and slightly shaky from the intensity of it all. Sirius rested his cheek on your thigh, breathing labored and eyes closed, his face shining with your slick.

Remus pulled off of him with a pop. “Worth the wait, Pads?” Remus asked, kissing along Sirius’ thighs.

Sirius shook his head. “We could have done that at least three times since this morning, but noooo—”

You swatted his stomach and he chuckled, nipping at the tender skin of your inner thigh. You glanced up at Remus, who was watching the two of you with so much affection it made your heart twist.

“Come here, baby,” you murmured, and Remus leaned over, capturing your lips in an airy, open-mouthed kiss that stoked the dwindling fire in your belly. You could taste Sirius on his tongue and it made your head swim, your thighs clench.

“Think our girl is ready for more, Moony,” Sirius said, untangling himself from the two of you and stepping off the bed to retrieve something.

“Is she?” Remus asked, flipping himself around and bundling you into his arms, raining kisses over your face, neck, chest and making you giggle. “What say you, my love?”

“Please, Rem?” You whined, grabbing at his cock nestled between your bodies, already rock solid and hot to the touch.

“Oh, suddenly she's polite,” Sirius scoffed, swatting your ass as he climbed back into bed.

Remus chuckled, kissing you one more time before passing you into Sirius’ arms. You snuggled into Sirius’ chest, kissing along his tattoos, loving your two boyfriends so much you could hardly breathe around the fullness in your chest.

“Hi, dolly,” Sirius hummed, drawing you up by the chin for featherlight kiss. “Ready to get fucked out of you mind?”

At the same moment, Remus lifted your hips until you rested on your knees. Face down on Sirius chest, ass up. Sirius adjusted his legs so your feet were pinned beneath them, and Remus grabbed your wrists to fasten them with Sirius’ tie behind your back, seamless in the only the way the two of them could be. Like they shared the same, filthy mind.

It made your cunt clench around nothing, your knees weak beneath you, desire pumping thick and sludgy through your blood.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, squirming in their hold until you felt the head of Remus' cock tap against your still-sensitive clit.

“Shh, there's our sweet girl. Rem’s gonna get his now, okay? Can you do that for him? Take it like a good little slut?” Sirius asked, petting your hair and smoothing a hand over one of your trembling legs.

You nodded, burrowing into Sirius' neck to ground you. “I'll be good,” you answered, and both boys cooed in approval.

Remus brushed his lips along your spine, still teasing your clit with his cock. “You always are, precious,” he murmured, straightening. “Just try not to wake the entire castle.”

In one, brutal thrust, Remus slammed into you, his hips slapping against your ass with a definitive smack. You cried out, the sound barely muffled by Sirius’ skin, as pleasure streaked beneath your skin, frying the last functioning neurons in your brain. The maelstrom of feeling only increased as he fucked into you, ruthless and rutting.

“Fuck, Moony. Look at our girl, takin’ it so well. Aren't you, darling?” Sirius caressed your cheek, dropping a kiss into your hair.

“Yes—mmph—fuck, so big,” you mewled, fingers tensing around the tie securing your wrists, your whole body desperate to move and release some of the compounding energy that was drowning you alive.

“So fucking tight, Pads. Squeezin’ the hell out of me,” Remus grunted, his grip almost painfully tight on your hips. But you barely registered it, completely awash in the seizing, spiraling ecstasy taking over your body, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

“You wanna come around our boy? Let him stuff that greedy little pussy full?” Sirius reached beneath you, his middle finger finding your clit like it was magnetized to it. “Absolutely dripping wet for us. Fuck me,” he praised, removing his hand to steal a taste before returning to massage quick, tight circles around the puffy bud.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted, fucking back into Remus as you chased your high, feeling him hit every angle, every inch of your stretched out cunt.

“Go on, dove. Come for us,” Remus gruffed, reaching forward to fist your hair and pull your head up, your cries of ecstasy ripping through the air.

Sirius grinned, kissing the tears as they rolled down your cheeks. “So fucking beautiful,” he said, his free hand wrapping around your throat. “Let go, love.”

And you did, your orgasm slamming into you like a branch of the Whomping Willow, knocking your soul out of your body and into the stars. You were nothing, everything, a mindless tangle of flesh and blood and feeling, the only tether you had was your boys hands on your body, Remus’ cock swelling and the scalding heat as he painted your insides.

You collapsed onto Sirius, breathless, boneless, so sensitive that even the brush of his hair was agony, the thump of his heart like a roaring train.

“Sh, sh, sweetheart, I’ve got you. You did so well, all done now, dolly. You were such a good girl for us,” Sirius shushed, his voice growing clearer as the fog lifted. You were crying, trembling in his arms as the pleasure worked itself out of your system. “She's alright, Rem,” you heard him say, and that was enough to bring you fully back to the present.

You turned to look at Remus, who was watching you with a worried crinkle in his brow, slumped against the pillows at the other end of the bed, chest heaving and sweat dripping down his scarred chest.

You wiggled out of Sirius' hold and threw yourself onto Remus, kissing him with a much strength as you could muster until you felt him smile.

“Didn't mean to be so rough with you,” he murmured, skimming your jaw with his thumb. “M’sorry.”

You shook your head, silencing him with another kiss. “I love you. That was amazing. You're amazing. If I wasn't 90% gelatin I'd tell you to do it again “

The boys chuckled, Sirius climbing up to lay beside you both. You settled into your usual sandwich, Remus wrapped around your back while you nuzzled into Sirius' front, his arms draped over the both of you, and your legs all tangled together.

“I need to shower,” you grumbled, feeling Remus' release trickle onto your thigh.

“No, you need a cuddle,” Sirius retorted, already sounding half asleep.

“I could get us into the Prefect bathroom,” Remus suggested, and Sirius snapped awake.

“Why didn't you say that sooner!” He cried, shoving you both towards the edge of the bed. “Let's go, you lazy asses!”

You and Remus groaned, but let Sirius drag you up and wrap you into your robes.

Looks like you'd be sleeping in tomorrow, too.

Thank you so much for reading!

© agreeewrites 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[machveil]

Dad!Simon Riley that does whatever his daughter wants. no hesitation, he just lets her order him around (calls her a drill sergeant sometimes, “Yes ma’am.”). she wants him to read a story? he’ll bring four books. she wants him to paint her nails? “Which color?”, snooping through a kiddie makeup box. she wants him to be a princess? he’ll be the prettiest daddy on the block, tiara haphazardly resting in his hair while a tutu fights for it’s life around his thick waist

Dad!Simon Riley who’s made it his job to be class dad. they need volunteers for a field trip? he’s not letting his little girl go somewhere he hasn’t been before… he might as well sign up. his daughter begs him to help with a school bake sale? he’s up at four in the morning making brownies because, “They’ll be better fresh.”

Dad!Simon Riley dropping whatever he’s doing to help his little girl. she needs help with homework? he’s busting out his old ass brick of a calculator - yeah, he had to dig around for it, but he can’t risk getting anything wrong in front of his daughter. she has a science project due tomorrow and needs a poster board? it’s nearly nine at night and she’s trying not cry because, “I— I forgot to tell you.”. Simon’s already grabbing his coat to run to the nearest store, speed limits be damned, his daughter needs that poster board

Dad!Simon Riley that eats up ‘bring your parent to school’ day. he’s not there to brag, he’s there so his daughter can brag to her little friends. he’ll give PG stories about serving, heart melting at his daughters wide eyes and awed smile. nearly brought to his knees when his daughter claims, “My daddy’s a hero.”, because, to his little girl, he’s a hero

[notbecauseofvictories]

here’s my question: how do you have so many hobbies? i just started a regular office job and it’s fine and lovely but i get home and i want to turn into mush—no thoughts. i was super creative and thoughtful in undergrad bc it was my job to write for class and i miss it but it’s not like that anymore

I have two answers to this---one practical, and the other existential.

The practical answer is that, as with many things in life, cultivating a life outside of work requires practice. Three years ago, I talked about this with regard to reading for pleasure; it applies to other hobbies as well. So be patient with yourself! Get used to the job; get used to the grind of commuting and computers and meetings and emails. The more comfortable and used to it you get, the more energy and attention you'll have for other things. I know I bring up exercise with alarming regularity for someone shaped like a moldy potato, but it really is like exercise. I've been working on cultivating hobbies and things other than work since 2020. If you want to try…start small. 5lb weights. Don't worry so much about the powerlifters. (They started with 5lbs too.)

The existential answer is that one day, you will wake up on a Saturday---or maybe a Sunday, that works too---or maybe it will be late at night, as the clock flips over to 2am---you know what, the timing isn't important. The point is that you will be lying in bed, warm and snug and theoretically content with the world. Thinking of the day ahead or behind you, dwelling on nothing in particular.

Then, very suddenly a quiet, cold-blooded thought will swim to the surface of your mind. In that moment, you will think with a mounting dread:

Wait, is this...is this it?

It probably won't happen tomorrow, or next year, or even five years from now. If you have a spouse to espouse or children to parent, family members to care for, a highly-intensive job, etc. it might not happen for decades. The thought might rouse briefly, then sink back to the depths of your subconscious to sleep on. But at some point, you will look around at your life and you will wonder if this is all. If this is it. If life is just animal needs, paying bills, sometimes seeing your friends on a Saturday, and watching whatever is on netflix. And if that's all life is, just a finite count of days to be used and used up without any greater purpose or plan....where does that leave you? What are you, just some half-sunk and shattered visage? Will anything you love, you built, survive you? If not, what are all those days for?

....there are many, many ways to deal with this. You can go on a screaming bender, buy a shiny red corvette, travel the world, find religion. You can read deeply on any topic of your choosing, join activist groups or yoga studios, or give a TED talk; change your job, change your spouse, change your gender. I don't know if anyone has solved an existential crisis, but human history is littered with attempts.

Or you can swear at your fucking sewing machine because it keeps breaking the goddamn thread and you're just trying to sew straight lines what the fuck is with this motherfucking thing oh my fucking jesus

[kooppss]

thirsty.

Read Jungkook's POV in lost

Sexy Disasters With Feelings series masterlist

warnings: mention of sex and masturbation. Not actual explicit content. They are both idiots.

word count: 2.5K

Having Jungkook as a roommate wasn’t for the faint-hearted. 

It’s Wednesday night, sometime past midnight. You should be sleeping; you have an early morning meeting tomorrow. 

But you lay awake in bed, staring at your ceiling, limbs sprawled like you gave up. 

The noises from the room next to you are the cause of your irritability.

You close your eyes, trying to block it out, but each sound pulls you further from sleep.

It’s your roommate’s room. Jungkook’s room. 

The sounds coming from there filling the quiet of your own room. 

The slapping noises can’t be mistaken.

You shift uncomfortably, acutely aware of what is happening on the other side of the wall. 

It’s hard to ignore, and a part of you feels a mix of curiosity and awkwardness. The other part of you feel things you don’t want to think about.

You can clearly hear the sounds of his fist stroking himself. 

Occasionally, you can also hear a strangled moan or a whimper. 

You try to calmly remind yourself that everyone has their private moments. And Jungkook is just trying to enjoy his space. Maybe helping himself get a good night’s sleep. 

There is nothing wrong with this. 

Yet, the sounds linger in your mind. The situation creates a tingling sensation within you that makes it hard to settle down. You try to focus on your breathing, willing yourself to find sleep.

You can’t blame him for masturbating in his own room. And he is trying to keep quiet after all. 

This should be better than when you first moved in. 

Back then, Jungkook used to bring over girls once or twice a week, and the noise was on another level. He even had a really good week when you heard he had someone over three nights. You wondered if he might be seeing someone seriously. But then, on the third night, after the girl finished her business in Jungkook’s room, you awkwardly crossed paths with her. And it quickly became apparent that she wasn’t the one from the first night. 

You never complained to him about it. 

You couldn’t when you also brought your casual hookups to the apartment. Maybe not as frequently as he does, but you still did. It felt like an unspoken agreement between roommates; everyone has their own life to live. 

Who were you to judge?

It’s just a natural part of life; everyone has the right to handle their needs.

But this, this is new. 

It makes you wonder what has changed. You haven’t seen or heard girls around in the last few weeks. It’s odd. It could be a dry season for him. You doubt that. It’s Jungkook, after all.

He could be simply bring them home when you’re not around. Or perhaps he goes to their place for more privacy. That makes sense; it’s easier that way. 

So how could it be your first time hearing him like that? The walls of your apartment were always thin.

Maybe nothing changed in his sex life. He Just usually does it when you are not home. This is what you do.

So what is the urgency of doing it now?

Could he be stressed? Need help to fall asleep?

He seemed normal when you saw him earlier. 

You only exchanged a few words. You returned from your pilates class, and after a short mundane small talk, you went straight to the shower. You were all sweaty and stinky. You could feel your biker shorts and sports bra clinging to your skin. When you came out to make dinner, he was in his room. Nothing out of order of your regular roommates’ routine.

Right now, all these thoughts don’t help you ignore the fucking sinful sounds you hear. 

You should be sleeping, yet you are hot and bothered lying awake.

It’s frustrating how easily you get distracted by the noises. You try to shut your eyes tight, focusing on your work project, the subject of tomorrow's meeting. You replay the details in your mind, thinking about numbers and timelines, hoping to ground yourself in the tasks ahead. 

But to no avail.

Every attempt to concentrate is overshadowed by wet squelching noises and barely muffled moans.

A louder grunt from Jungkook that he didn’t manage to contain sends a shiver down your spine. More heat is pulling in your core, making it impossible to ignore the stickiness you tried to pretend isn’t there. 

The frequency of the slapping noises increases, and an unwanted image invades your brain. 

A shirtless Jungkook is sitting in his bed, back against the headboard. His horrible and amazing grey sweatpants and black boxers pulled down just enough. The band stretched against his thick thigh muscles. His dick is standing hard and tall, leaking shiny bids of precum, engulfed by his large palm. Tattooed bicep bulged with strain. A thin sheen of sweat covers his toned abdomen and pecs. Head tilted to rest against the wall. Face contoured in pleasure and concentration. His laptop lay open beside him, or he grips his phone in the other hand, watching some crude content. 

It makes you wonder what type of porn he watches.

Does he like home videos? Solo shows? Could it be some girl-on-girl action?

Maybe he’s into more rough stuff?

You used to hear a lot of ‘good girl’ or ‘you’re taking me so well’ accompanied by occasional slaps and harsh banging of his bed headboard against the wall. Making it easy to assume what type of sex he’s into. Can’t blame him. 

You strain to focus on the sound, hoping to catch a hint of what he's watching, but you don’t pick up any sound other than his own.

A loud moan from the other room pulls you out of your concentration.

You barely catch a whimper, followed by a gradual fading of the slapping noises until they stop completely.

You let out a sigh and roll onto your side, determined to push his image from your mind and redirect your thoughts.

You reach for your phone and scroll through cat videos, letting them cool you off until you finally drift off to sleep.

—---------------------------------------------------

You decided to go out for drinks with your friends. 

Despite being exhausted from the lack of sleep after Jungkook's late-night activities, today has been rough, and you need the distraction.

You examine your reflection, deciding on a micro mini black skirt paired with a black tube top and knee-high boots. You think you look cute, finishing the look with a touch of gloss to your lips.

You order an Uber on your phone as you make your way to the hallway, only to bump into something.

Your half-naked roommate. 

Of course.

“Oh shit,” you exclaim, your hand reach the wall in attempt to balance yourself. Jungkook just walked out of the kitchen with a protein shake in hand, wearing nothing but black gym shorts. His skin glistens from sweat, and his hair is a tousled mess. It’s almost too much—he’s too much for your sanity.

He smirks at you like he knows what this look does to women, what it does to you. 

“I didn’t know you were here,” you say, trying to mask your flustered state. 

He leans back against the door frame, taking a sip from his drink. “I just got back from the gym.”

No shit. 

"I’m heading out," you say, even though he didn't ask. You move past him to grab your jacket from the closet.

He follows you on your way to the door. 

“I can see that,” he says in a tone that makes you uneasy.

As you wear your coat, you turn around, seeing him eyeing you up and down shamelessly. 

You cock your eyebrow, “What?”

He mimics your expression with a smirk. 

God, he annoys you so much sometimes. 

“What do you want?” you bark, not in the mood for his games.

“Can’t I have a little chit-chat with my favorite roomie?” he teases, giving you a toothy smile.

“I’m your only roommate,” you deadpan. 

“And my favorite,” he replies in a sing-song.

Before you can continue this stupid conversation, your phone dings, signaling your Uber has arrived.

“Bye loser,” you open the front door and step out.

Jungkook calls after you, “Don’t come home late, don’t take drinks from strangers, and don’t kiss ugly fuckers!”

“You’re insufferable!” you shout without looking back, already a few steps away.

“You love it!” he replies, his voice echoing behind you as you reach the bottom of the stairs.

—---------------------------------------------------

You return home less than two hours later. The bar was lame, and the exhaustion hit hard, so you called it a night. 

As you enter the small living room a familiar scent fills the air —something musky and salty, slightly pungent scent.

It smells like sex. 

WTF was going on here?

You scan the space, walking past the couch, but Jungkook is nowhere in sight. 

The TV flickers with some show you don’t recognize, the volume nearly muted. On the couch, there’s only a pack of tissues beside Jungkook's phone. You’re about to head out of the living room to check if he’s home when something on his phone catches your attention. 

It’s not your fault; he left it unlocked with the screen facing up. You aren’t prepared for what you see.

It’s an Instagram page. 

Your Instagram page.

You physically recoil, taking a step back and quickly turning away. Heat spreads across your face and chest. 

Could he...? 

Was he doing what you think—

Before you can complete that thought, Jungkook strolls back into the living room. 

“Oh, you’re back,” he says, sounding casual.

You think you spot a hint of rosiness on his cheeks as he walks past you to sit on the couch. He quickly grabs his phone and shoves it into his pocket. He does it so smoothly that you might not have noticed his haste if you didn’t know what he’s hiding.

“Why are you home so soon?” he asks, looking up at you from his seat.

For some reason, his gaze makes your face heat up even more. 

“I’m just tired,” you shrug, trying to sound casual.

He responds with a noncommittal hum. Still looking at you.

An awkward silence stretches between you. You stand there, struggling to avoid his gaze, unsure where to land your eyes. 

You can sense that he notices your discomfort, yet he doesn’t seem fazed by it at all. If he knows what you caught him doing, he doesn’t appear to care.

In fact, he looks almost delighted by your awkwardness, a smug grin playing on his lips. His eyes remain locked on your face, not shying away the slightest. You feel like you're being tested. Like he challenges you to say something. 

“I’ll go to bed—goodnight then,” you say, folding first. Of course you fold first. 

Jungkook’s shit-eating grin only widens, “goodnight, y/n.”

This shitshow of a day is finally about to end. 

You half-assed your night routine, ready to be snuggled in bed. You’re about to slip under the sheets when your phone dings, an Instagram notification.

<@abcdefghi_lmnopqrstuvwxyz liked your photo>

What is Jungkook doing? 

You open the app to see that Jungkook has randomly liked a photo on your feed. It’s not a new upload from tonight; in fact, it’s one you posted a while ago. 

WTF is he doing?

You set the alarm for tomorrow morning and close your phone.  Ignoring whatever Jungkook is trying to do.

—---------------------------------------------------

It’s been a few days since the Instagram incident 

You haven’t said anything, and Jungkook acts like nothing happened. 

Yet, something is off. 

You can’t find peace in your own apartment; it feels like Jungkook is deliberately trying to torture you. The tension between you has doubled with each passing day. 

To make matters worse, it seems Jungkook has lost all his shirts. 

He’s constantly wandering around with more skin showing than not. Somehow, he’s always after a workout or after a shower. 

And it’s driving you insane.

This is why you find yourself in your bedroom one night, pondering how to bother him back, even if just a little. 

You don’t want to do anything too direct, to make an actual move. You want to keep living in this apartment. But you can’t do nothing. You know it’s a dangerous game, but he started it. 

So you start scheming, an idea starts to take shape—one that might also confirm if he was doing what you think he was doing the other day.

You glance at your phone screen, take a deep breath and press ‘post.’

It’s just a photo. A little suggestive bolder photo—what you might call a thirst trap. 

It’s a mirror selfie from your last vacation. You totally feel yourself in that photo. You’re a bit tanned, sporting that vacation glow with a flat tummy and a well-rested look. Sitting on your heels, turned slightly to the side, your back arches just enough to accentuate your curves. You’re wearing a cute pink lingerie set with lace and bows. From this angle, your ass looks amazing—you can’t help but think it’s your best asset. 

The (thirst) trap has been set.

Now you wait.

And you don’t have to wait long; you know Jungkook is in his room. 

Less than 10 minutes pass before you hear the unmistakable sounds coming from the other room. What’s happening is clear yet again.

Ha. You won this round. 

You can’t help but smirk to yourself—your plan has worked. He’s bothered enough to take matters into his own hands.

You’re unsure if you’re imagining it, but he sounds louder. Like he’s not trying to conceal what he’s doing. 

Like he’s putting on a show.

Well Shit. That has backfired quickly. 

You pull the blanket over your head. Not ready to admit defeat, but not ready to deal with this right now. 

You wait for the quiet of the night to return, and at some point, you fall asleep.

You wake up feeling all sweaty and hot. 

Everything is still dark as you reach for your phone. The screen brightness blinds you before you realize it’s only 2:30 in the morning. You’ve been sleeping for only a couple of hours. Your throat is parched, and you reach for the water bottle on your nightstand. It’s empty. You groan as you attempt to get out of bed, heading to the kitchen, your body heavy with sleep.

With your eyes half shut, you grab a water bottle from the fridge, not even bothering to turn on the kitchen light. 

When you turn, you jump at the sight of a figure at the door. 

Jungkook chuckles at your surprised squeal.

“I’m glad to see it’s not an intruder,” he says with a smirk. 

How does he have the energy to be an insufferable piece of shit at this hour? 

You notice his gaze lingering on your legs and you become very aware that you’re only wearing an oversized shirt—though not quite oversized enough to cover you. You wonder just how much of your ass is showing.

Of course, he’s only in his briefs. When does he ever wear clothes?

For goodness' sake, you can’t catch a moment of peace in this place.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me,” you still hold your chest, feeling your heart thumping hard. 

The little shit just laughs at you. 

“Sorry. I’m not used to hearing noises at these hours. I had to check that we’re not being robbed.” 

You cross your arms on your chest and tilt your head to the side. “And what would they take? Our 10-year-old microwave?” 

Jungkook laughs; it does weird things to you. You’re too tired for this. 

He sets his gaze on you and cock an eyebrow, “had to make sure you’re safe, you know.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, starting to walk back to your room. 

Jungkook follows behind you, “why are you even awake?” 

When you reach his room, he stops at the door, waiting for your answer. 

“Just thirsty,” you shrug.

For some reason, a shit-eating grin is now plastered on his face.

“Thirsty?” he says, his eyes steady on you. 

You tilt your head, brows drawn together in confusion, “yeah?” 

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

He looks back at you, and you see the mischief glimmer in his eyes.

As he steps into the room, before he shuts the door, he says, 

“Funny. You are the one making me thirsty.” 

Part 0.5

Back to series masterlist

[lqveharrington]

In Sickness & Health | R.L.

summary: you and remus after a full moon <3

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: fluff, comfort, normal post full moon things

a/n: i’m in love with him :(

“Hey, Moony,” you murmured, settling onto the edge of his hospital wing bed. Your fingers gently threaded through his hair, careful not to press against any fresh bruises or reopen wounds. His hair was soft despite the sweat from the full moon’s toll. “How was tonight? Sirius told me it was… bad.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” Remus replied, though his voice was strained, and the attempt at nonchalance didn’t quite mask the pain lacing his words. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position on the stiff white sheets, but winced as he moved. “Jus’ got a little out of hand, that’s all.”

You frowned, your gaze lingering on the fresh scar just above his eyebrow. Without thinking, you brushed a few strands of hair away and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of the wound. His skin was warm beneath your lips, radiating both the fever of healing and the exhaustion of survival. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s not your fault, dovey,” he murmured back, eyes still closed, breathing shallow.

“But it is,” you sighed, your voice cracking under the weight of guilt. Your fingers found his hand, lacing through his as your thumb sought out the steady beat of his pulse—a quiet reassurance that he was still here. Still breathing. “I shouldn’t have gone with Lily and Dorcas earlier. I should’ve been there when—”

“Stop,” Remus cut in gently, squeezing your hand to pull you out of the spiral. His amber eyes opened, hazy but sincere, locking onto yours. “You know it’s not your fault. These things… they happen. I’ve been dealing with this my whole life, yeah? Tonight was just a rough night, nothing you could’ve prevented.”

But you couldn’t shake the ache in your chest. Couldn’t stop the image of him curled on the hospital bed, covered in fresh scars that would never fully fade. You bit your bottom lip, emotions swirling, and brought his hand to your lips, pressing a tender kiss against his knuckles. “I’m still sorry.”

He chuckled, though it came out more like a breathy exhale. “I’ll get Madam Pomfrey to kick you out if you don’t stop with all this guilt,” he teased, squeezing your hand again. His eyes softened. “Besides… you’ll be here to help me afterwards, yeah?”

“Of course, Rem,” you nodded, voice thick with emotion.

He smiled—small, tired, but genuine—and tilted his head just enough to look at you properly. His gaze narrowed playfully until you finally cracked a smile, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. Heat bloomed across your cheeks, the weight of worry momentarily lifted by his warmth. Remus shifted again, letting out a slow sigh as he tried to settle his battered body. You reached up to run your fingers through his tousled hair once more, the rhythmic motion calming both of you.

“Think you’ll be able to attend classes by Monday?” you asked softly. “We’ve got those tests in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

He hummed thoughtfully, leaning into your touch like a cat basking in the sun. “We’ll see… Might just have to fake my way through them. Not like Flitwick hasn’t seen me half-asleep in class before.”

You glanced at the old clock hanging above Madam Pomfrey’s office door and sighed. “You should rest,” you murmured, though the last thing you wanted was to leave him.

“Dovey,” he mumbled, voice low, “you need to get to bed, too.”

You nodded reluctantly, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. His skin was warm, his pulse steady beneath your fingertips. “Do you want me to bring anything tomorrow? A change of clothes, books… chocolate?”

“Just yourself,” he grinned, eyes fluttering shut. “The boys already made grand plans to raid my side of the dorm for me.”

“Figures.” You rolled your eyes but smiled. Squeezing his hand one last time, you whispered, “Goodnight, Rem.”

“Night, love.”

As you slipped out of the hospital wing, the cool corridors of Hogwarts seemed colder than usual, the stone walls echoing with your thoughts. You kept replaying the night in your head—the ache in his voice, the scars on his skin—and you hoped, with everything in you, that he wasn’t downplaying the pain.

Remus spent most of the weekend recovering, pushing through the stiffness and soreness until, by Sunday afternoon, he managed to hobble out of bed with his cane, taking slow, measured steps. You stayed by his side every moment you could, abandoning weekend plans with the girls without a second thought. James and Sirius, of course, had already tried to rope him into plotting pranks, but Remus waved them off with a lazy grin. Next time, he promised. For now, he just wanted quiet.

The two of you ended up by the Black Lake, settling beneath the sprawling branches of a tree that overlooked the shimmering water. The late afternoon sun dipped toward the horizon, casting streaks of gold and pink across the sky. Remus lay back with his head in your lap, eyes closed, his breathing even as you idly ran your fingers through his hair.

“Did your dad make this?” you asked softly, tracing the intricate carvings on his wooden cane. The designs were delicate, swirling patterns framing his initials at the top—R.J.L.—surrounded by tiny etched stars.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded, opening his eyes halfway. “He started working on it after… after he realized how much I was struggling to walk after full moons. Didn’t say much—just handed it to me one morning.”

Your fingertips brushed over the stars, heart tugging at the thought of the quiet, steadfast love behind each carved detail. “It’s beautiful,” you murmured. “And it suits you.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating softly against your leg. “I’ll owl him that. He’ll be pleased someone appreciates his handiwork.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the gentle lapping of the lake and the distant calls of students on the castle grounds. Remus turned his head slightly, letting the fading sunlight warm his face. For a moment, you saw beyond the scars and fatigue—to the boy who loved books, who smiled despite the weight he carried, who found peace in the little things.

“Help me up?” he asked after a while.

“Of course.” You shifted, careful as you helped him sit up. His muscles tensed under your hands, but he didn’t complain. Steadying him, you passed him his cane. He gripped it firmly, testing his balance.

“Thanks, dovey,” he murmured, his gaze catching yours. There was gratitude in his eyes—deep, unspoken, and profound.

You smiled, falling into step beside him as you wandered back toward the castle, the horizon painted with the colors of the setting sun. Whatever challenges lay ahead—tests, pranks, full moons—you’d face them together. Always.

The following week passed in a blur of classes, missed notes, and whispered conversations between you and Remus when Madam Pomfrey wasn’t hovering over him. By Tuesday morning, he was finally released from the hospital wing—still sore, still leaning on his cane, but stubbornly insistent on returning to classes despite your protests.

“Professor McGonagall’s going to have my head if I miss another Transfiguration lecture,” he grumbled as you walked beside him, his pace slow but determined. “Besides, I’ve already got Sirius taking notes for me. Not that I can read half of his scribbles.”

You snorted. “You’d have better luck asking a Hippogriff to write in cursive.”

Remus chuckled, the sound warming your chest. Even with dark circles still under his eyes and his movements careful, it was good to see him returning to his usual self—sarcastic comments, fond exasperation at his friends, and all.

By Wednesday afternoon, he was exhausted. You could see it in the way he slumped against the library table, one hand lazily turning the pages of Advanced Defensive Spells, the other propping up his head.

“Rem,” you whispered, nudging his leg under the table. “You’re not going to absorb any of that if you’re half-asleep.”

“M’fine,” he mumbled, though his eyelids drooped.

“You’re reading the index,” you pointed out.

He blinked down at the book. “…Shit.”

Smiling fondly, you reached over and closed it for him. “Come on. Fresh air might wake you up.”

Reluctantly, he let you tug him away from the library and out toward the Black Lake. The March wind was crisp, biting at your cheeks, but the sky was clear—a perfect gradient of pale blue bleeding into amber as the sun started its slow descent. You walked in comfortable silence, his arm occasionally brushing against yours.

“Here,” you said, guiding him to a familiar spot near the small cliff overlooking the water—the same place you’d been the weekend before. The grass was still damp, but neither of you cared. Remus sat with a quiet sigh, stretching out his legs as you settled beside him.

“I don’t deserve you, you know,” he murmured after a long pause, voice soft and a little too serious.

You turned your head toward him. “Where’s that coming from?”

He shrugged, gaze fixed on the shimmering surface of the lake. “I know how hard this is for you. Worrying. Waiting around for me to pull myself back together after every full moon. Most people wouldn’t bother.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” you replied, nudging his shoulder. “And you don’t get to decide what I can handle.”

His lips quirked into a half-smile. “Stubborn.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” you shot back, and he laughed—really laughed—head tilting back, eyes crinkling. It was a sound you wished you could bottle up and keep forever.

Falling into a companionable quiet again, you watched as the sun dipped lower, casting golden ripples across the lake. Seagulls cried overhead, distant and fleeting.

“You know,” you started, tracing random patterns in the grass, “I don’t stay because I have to. I stay because I want to, Remus. You… you matter to me. Scars and all.”

He went still beside you, the weight of your words settling between you like a warm blanket. Slowly, cautiously, his hand found yours in the grass. Fingers entwined, familiar and safe.

“I’m lucky to have you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“And don’t you forget it,” you teased, though your cheeks burned.

The sky bled into a soft lavender as the first stars began to peek through. Remus leaned against you, his head resting on your shoulder. “This… this helps,” he murmured. “Being with you. Makes it easier to breathe.”

You smiled, resting your head against his. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

The wind picked up, sending ripples across the lake and rustling the trees behind you, but neither of you moved. For now, the world could wait.

Here, in this quiet pocket of Hogwarts grounds, with his hand in yours and the stars beginning to glow above, everything felt… right.

And you’d hold onto that feeling—for him, for you, for as long as it took.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[sixosix]

no one's ever had me, not like you

timeskip!hinata shoyo x reader

“Are you really sure that you’re swearing off of dating?”

You wonder how many times you’ll be asked that before you finally get pressured into mingling just to get them off your back. But Akane, bless her heart, looks genuinely concerned, like choosing to stay single was a cruel fate she wouldn’t wish for anyone to bear.

“It’s not a big deal,” you tell her. “Dating’s just not for me.”

You think back to all your previous relationships, and find that you have never been more sure of your decision.

“It just means you haven’t found the right one!” To your left, Yuki, who is alarmingly a lot of shots in, exclaims. She becomes violent when drunk. You would know, your arm is starting to turn red from her smacking when laughing.

You shrug uncomfortably. “I’m not looking for any right one.”

Akane and Yuki share a glance.

“Well, if you say so,” Akane cedes.

Then Yuki slams her hands on the table as she bolts upright, expression grave and voice low as she says, “We’re doing it, though, right?”

You laugh under your breath. Yuki looks a little ridiculous, drunk, and swaying on her feet even when standing still. Her grip on her glass wavers, and you quickly pluck it from her grasp, ignoring her protesting wail.

Akane brightens. “Yes! Of course we’re doing it!”

You instead hand Yuki a glass of water. “Doing what? Are you two up to no good again?”

“Yes!” Yuki exclaims at the same time Akane calmly clarifies, “Noya’s inviting close friends out for dinner tomorrow.” Which makes sense, because they were pretty much the same thing.

“Oh! Nishinoya’s back?”

“Just arrived today! He said he’s visiting for a while.” Akane fishes out her phone from her hand, then pulls out the class’s group chat that you could never bring yourself to check ever since it hit 999+ notifications. It displays a picture of Nishinoya holding up a peace sign, face serious, and next to a large airport sign.

You hum thoughtfully. “I guess if you guys are coming…”

“Let’s go!” Yuki pumps her fists in the air. Akane smiles and tells her to settle down. Akane drank twice as many shots than her.

“Who else is coming?” You ask. “I might pass if it’s the entire school.”

“Noya’s not that wild. I heard it’s just his volleyball team, Ryuunosuke, and us,” Akane says. “I heard they’re also celebrating because Noya’s treating his kouhai’s return from Brazil.”

“Brazil?” The other side of the world! “Yuu and his friends sure are adventurous,” you remark in amusement, sipping idly on your own drink. It’s milder than either of theirs since you were assigned as the designated driver.

“You’ve heard of the guy. Hinata Shoyo, I think it was.”

You inhale your drink and start heaving. Akane’s hands flutter all over you in panic while Yuki descends in deep thought.

Yuki snapped her fingers. “Oh, right! Wasn’t that the first year who had a big crush on you when we were in second year? Noya’s favorite kouhai, Shoyo.”

Hinata Shoyo.

The first time you met Hinata Shoyo was when Nishinoya decided to invite close friends to watch them play. It was an ordinary day, and they had just come back from the Interhigh preliminaries. Their coach agreed to let them take it slow and relax, so Noya used it as an opportunity to invite his friends (it was just you who was free) to watch (read: to show off).

Having nothing better to do during club hours, you agreed.

You were late, stuck with cleaning duty, and forced to catch up to Noya, who had first wheeled into the volleyball gymnasium. The door was shut. You took deep, deep breaths before sliding it open and nearly having your face flattened by a volleyball speeding towards you.

Well, of course, it was a volleyball gymnasium.

Luckily, you managed to swerve out of the way and prevent long-lasting damage to your face. But the shock was more brutal than the would-be impact. You gaped at the ball that rolled onto the grass miles away. Just how fast was that thing?

“Y/N!” Nishinoya’s voice rang throughout the stunned silence of the gym.

Your head whipped around just in time to see a little guy with a mop of orange hair bound over to you.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry—-” He then looked up at you, now only inches away, and seemed to have run out of apologies. His face exploded in a bright shade of red, but his eyes looked like they were bluescreening.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s fine!” You wave your hand to dismiss his guilt. “I didn’t actually get hit. Well—almost. But I didn’t! That was amazingly fast!” You hoped the praise would snap him out of it, but he was still gaping at you like you’d grown two heads. Or maybe you had something on your face?

Nishinoya comes barreling over soon enough, brows furrowed. “Y/N! Are you okay? You could’ve died!”

You frowned. “Idiot. I’m not going to die from that.”

Your statement seemed to shatter the tension that froze everyone in place. The captain murmured for them to continue practicing as Noya fluttered all over you like a mother hen, insisting on an ice pack.

Tanaka materialized out of nowhere. “Y/N! It’s you!”

“Ryuu!” You exclaim in delight, returning his hug. “Ryuu, it’s nice to see you again!”

Nishinoya turned to the tiny redhead with a raised eyebrow. “You good, Shoyo?”

Shoyo finally flinched out of his daze, narrowly avoiding your curious eyes. “Y-Yes! I’m just—I’ll go get the ball!” he squeaked out, nearly tripping over his own feet on a flat surface.

Nishinoya snorted, sharp eyes following Shoyo. “I think he has a crush on you.”

Tanaka cackled. “No way! Is that why Hinata looks so constipated?”

Hinata Shoyo. You glanced back just in time to catch him fumbling with the volleyball, trembling like a frightened mouse. It’s cute.

Now, you can confidently state that Hinata Shoyo is no longer just cute. Five years later, July, in an unsuspecting get-together party hosted by Nishinoya, and Hinata Shoyo definitely isn’t the same as before.

“Everyone!” Nishinoya’s voice bellows out throughout the venue. For such a small guy, he has the voice of a booming speaker. “Everyone, quiet! Shoyo’s here!”

Choruses of Hinata! echo through everyone as the crowd dispersed and bounded over to where Nishinoya was. You hear a faint laugh and a “Thank you!” From here, you could tell that his voice had gotten deeper. Still light and high, but it was different from the squeakiness you remembered.

Ever since finding out that Hinata had been back from Brazil, it turns out that his grand debut in the Nationals was aired all over. He’s famous now, not just some kid in Karasuno’s Volleyball Club.

“Ooh,” Yuki giggles maniacally. She hasn’t drunk anything yet. “He’s here. Do you think he still has a crush on you?”

“I doubt it. It was probably because I was his senpai back then. Remember how you reacted to Daichi-san visiting our hall? Everyone in our class was swooning, especially the boys!”

“Something about volleyball players, I tell you,” Yuki says, her gaze drifting over to where Akane was giggling as she talked with them. “Hmm. Speaking of them, I think one of them is on his way here.”

“What?”

Yuki takes one last sip of her tequila shot and leaves without another word. You didn’t have to turn—didn’t even have to move. You can feel his presence the moment he is right behind you, like a burst of warmth hovering, but it’s gold and bright, so you’re not terrified

Hinata Shoyo sits beside you, asking for a drink. You can’t help but stare.

He turned to you, then seemed to do a double take. Hinata Shoyo—now built twice as big as he once was; no longer the cute, lanky, and short kouhai from your past; with neatly trimmed hair and a much deeper voice—stares at you in astonishment. Hinata Shoyo emits a wordless exclamation.

“Senpai!” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Hinata,” you laugh softly, fondly. “We’re not in high school anymore. I’m pretty sure we’re the same age. You can just call me Y/N.”

“Y-You—” He splutters, face tinged pink despite the untouched shot in front of him. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome.” You smile, tilting your head and grinning wider at the way his eye catches on the curve of your neck. “So, how have you been?”

He forgets about the drink he just ordered, seemingly getting redder in the face as you inch closer. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed he was drunk. Hinata Shoyo grins sheepishly, blushing and looking beautiful under the dim lighting of the venue.

Swearing off of dating, hmm… 

You consider him—his bright eyes, his wide and ever-genuine smile, and his undivided attention on you. Does he still have a crush on you? Or was it just the surprise that had him so flustered? You throw your head back and gulp down a shot, ignoring the burn that slid down your throat. You suppose there was no harm in finding out.

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: Nerd!Jeonghan is invited to a frat party by the jocks, but it was just a bad joke, because they didn't like seeing you with the nerd. They just didn't expect that on the same night, you would fuck your good boy. — WC: 5.3k — WARNINGS: Tricking, slight angst, smut, fingering, oral (m. receiving), cock riding, overstimulation, wap, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, penetrative sex, protected sex, Jeonghan teases reader without noticing and etc. — This is a part 2 of Nerd!Jeonghan – Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

The cafeteria was buzzing with the usual chatter and clatter of trays and cutlery. You were surrounded by your friends, laughing at a joke someone had made, when suddenly a tray was placed in front of you. The food on it was from the most expensive selection in the canteen, a treat you rarely indulged in. You glanced up and saw Jeonghan's retreating figure, leaving no room for argument.

"What's this?" one of your friends asked, eyeing the tray curiously.

"Looks like someone's got a secret admirer," another teased.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you picked up an apple from the tray. "It's nothing like that. Just… a thank you, I guess."

As you ate the delicious lunch, your mind wandered to Jeonghan. You decided to find him after you were done. Finishing the meal, you took the apple and headed out, searching for Jeonghan around the campus.

Eventually, you spotted him sitting alone on the grandstand, eyes focused on the field. You walked over and sat down beside him, taking a bite of the apple. He turned his head slightly to acknowledge your presence.

"Are you going to buy lunch for me without lunching with me?" you teased, nudging him playfully.

Jeonghan gave you a shy smile. "I just wanted to thank you for the glasses. I'm going to buy you lunch till the end of the year to pay you back and–"

You placed a finger on his lips to shush him, causing his eyes to widen slightly. "You don't need to do that, Jeonghan. The guys broke your glasses, so I needed to do the right thing. And… because I think you're a good boy."

Jeonghan's cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and he bit his lip nervously. The sight of you up close, with your unbuttoned white shirt revealing a hint of your chest and your skirt riding up your thighs under the hot sun, made his heart race. Your perfume lingered in the air, making him take a deep breath, trying to memorize the scent.

"Good boy?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with sincerity. "Yes, a good boy. You're kind, and you don't deserve the way they treat you."

Jeonghan couldn't help but feel aroused by your words, if only you knew the effect you had on him, you'd probably think he was a pervert. He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself.

"Thank you," he managed to say, his voice shaky. "It means a lot coming from you."

He watched as you took another bite of the apple, the simple act somehow feeling incredibly intimate.

"So, lunch tomorrow?" you asked, breaking the silence.

Jeonghan chuckled, finally relaxing a bit. "Sure, lunch tomorrow."

Jeonghan already thought you looked gorgeous, and now that he found out you were this kind, you looked even prettier to his eyes. He now had a friend—someone outside of the geek club. The jocks noticed the change. They saw how he now lunched with you, how you chattered with him excitedly, how you hugged him when he arrived on campus, and how you two shared dessert after lunch. Their curiosity got the better of them.

"What the fuck is going on?" one of them asked, bewildered.

One afternoon, you hadn't arrived in class yet. Jeonghan was nervously fiddling with his pen, wondering what kind of torment the day might bring, when James, one of the jocks, approached him. Jeonghan tensed, preparing for the worst—another broken pair of glasses, a stolen lunch, or a demand for homework. Instead, James placed a card on his table.

"Be at the frat party tonight. Y/N will be there," James said curtly before walking away.

Jeonghan looked at the card in his hand, not too confident but filled with a glimmer of hope. You would be there.

[…]

It was Friday night, and Jeonghan had always heard about the infamous frat parties. He had often wondered what they were like but never had the guts to seek an invitation. Tonight was different. He dressed in a white shirt paired with a black leather jacket—an ensemble suggested by his mom through text messages. She assured him he would look handsome like that.

Jeonghan glanced at his phone, following the map to the party's location. But as he arrived, his surroundings felt wrong. The map indicated he had reached his destination, yet he found himself in a wasteland—dark, empty, and desolate. He looked around, searching for any sign of a party. There was nothing. No movement, no lights, no sounds of laughter or music. His heart sank as the realization hit him, he had been tricked.

Jeonghan's footsteps echoed loudly against the pavement as he briskly walked away from the supposed frat party location. His mind was a whirlwind of frustration, embarrassment, and anger. How could he have been so naive to think that someone like him would be invited to a party where someone like you would be present?

As he made his way down the bustling avenue, he heard his name being called. Initially, he ignored it, hoping to avoid any further interactions that would only add to his already sour mood. But when the voice persisted, he reluctantly glanced over his shoulder, only to see you standing there. You were dressed in your office attire, looking professional and put-together as always, with a leather bag slung over your shoulder. Your brows furrowed in concern as you called out to him, and you reached out to touch his shoulder gently. Seeing Jeonghan ignore you was so out of character for him.

"Jeonghan, wait! What happened?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine worry.

Jeonghan stopped in his tracks, his jaw clenched as he turned to face you.

"What happened?" he repeated, his tone sharp with irritation. "What do you think happened, Y/N? I was tricked. Played for a fool. Just like always." he snaps, immediately regretting the harshness in his tone.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden hostility. "Jeonghan, I… I don't understand. What do you mean you were tricked?"

Jeonghan let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I thought… I thought maybe things were finally looking up for me. That maybe, someone like you actually wanted to spend time with me." he breathes in. "I was invited to some stupid frat party, and when I got there, there was nothing. No party, no people, just darkness."

His words came out in a bitter rush, his emotions raw and unfiltered. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and he hated it.

You looked at him with concern, trying to piece together what he was saying. "Jeonghan, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't invite you to any party. I… I would never do something like that."

Jeonghan scoffed, his disbelief evident. "Come on, Y/N. Don't play dumb. I saw the card. James gave it to me himself, said you would be there."

Your eyes widened in realization, and you shook your head vehemently. "James? That jerk! Jeonghan, I had nothing to do with that. I swear."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, searching your face for any hint of deception. But all he saw was sincerity and genuine concern.

"Why would James lie about something like that?" he asked, his voice softer now, the anger slowly ebbing away.

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Because he's an asshole, Jeonghan. He probably thought it would be funny to mess with you. But I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

Jeonghan's shoulders slumped as he processed your words. He felt relief and embarrassment wash over him, along with a twinge of guilt for snapping at you earlier.

"I… I'm sorry, Y/N," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have lashed out like that. It's just… it's been a rough night."

You take Jeonghan's hand in yours, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. His thumb draws soothing circles on the back of your hand as you look into his eyes, filled with gratitude for your understanding.

"Let's go," you say softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I was actually going to pass by a convenience store. We can pick up some snacks and drinks, and then we'll head to my place. We can have our own little party there."

Jeonghan's lips curve into a hesitant smile, the tension slowly melting away from his features. "That sounds… nice," he replies, his voice tinged with relief.

You start walking together, the weight of the earlier misunderstanding lifting from your shoulders.

The atmosphere in your room was cozy, the soft glow of the lamp casting warm shadows against the walls. You and Jeonghan sat side by side on your bed, beers in hand, watching a variety program on the television. Your thigh rested comfortably over his, his hand resting on your skin as if it belonged there.

You had ditched the frat parties long ago, opting instead for chill nights like these, where you could actually hear each other talk and enjoy each other's company without the chaos. And right now, with Jeonghan so close, it felt perfect.

The alcohol had loosened both of you up, making conversation flow easier and nerves dissipated. Jeonghan seemed more relaxed now, his touch becoming almost absent-minded as he reached for his beer can or adjusted his position on the bed.

You couldn't deny the way his touch was melting you into the mattress, stealing the air from your lungs and flooding your senses with horniness.

But no matter how obvious you tried to make it, Jeonghan remained focused on the television, seemingly unaware of your growing need. It was frustrating, maddening even, to be so close to him and yet feel so far apart.

Occasionally, your hips would shift involuntarily, seeking some kind of friction to alleviate the growing ache between your legs. You clenched around nothing, as your nipples hardened on your tank top.

As Jeonghan reached for his beer can once more, his hand unconsciously squeezing your thigh further up, a sudden surge of pleasure shot through you. Before you could even stop yourself, an involuntary moan escaped your lips, echoing in the quiet room.

Jeonghan froze, his hand still resting on your thigh, his eyes widening in shock. Did he just make you moan? Or worse, did he hurt you?

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice filled with genuine concern as he quickly withdrew his hand.

You bite your lip, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood through you at your own reaction. But before you could respond, another moan escaped your lips, this time his name falling from them like a plea. "Hannie…"

The sound sent a jolt of arousal coursing through him, his own desire spiking at the realization that he had caused you to moan like that.

He looked at you, sprawled out on the bed, your eyes heavy with desire, your skin flushed and hot to the touch. Your lips were parted, your breath coming in shallow gasps, and your legs were parted ever so slightly, inviting him in.

Jeonghan stopped, his mind racing with uncertainty. What should he do? There wasn't enough time to think. His hand moved a little further up your thigh experimentally, not quite touching your crotch, but close enough to feel the heat radiating from you. He caught a glimpse of your hips rolling slightly in his hand's direction, a silent plea for more.

"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice breathy and filled with need.

Oh.

Jeonghan froze for a moment, taken aback by your request. He took a moment to compose himself, slowly removing his glasses and placing them on the table beside the bed. Then, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

But if you left it up to him, the two of you would be content with simple pecks. You needed more. Parting your lips, you gently made passage inside his mouth with your tongue, feeling his wet muscle gently caress yours as he gasped in surprise.

You leaned into him, your hand finding the way to his hair, gripping it softly as you deepened the kiss. Jeonghan's initial hesitation melted away as he responded, his hands roaming up and down your thigh, drawing you closer to him.

The kiss grew more passionate, your tongues dancing together, exploring and tasting. You could feel Jeonghan's breath quicken, matching your own, and the electric connection between you intensified with every passing second. Your hips moved closer, seeking the friction you so desperately craved, and his hand inched higher, teasing innocently.

Your body was practically vibrating with need, and you couldn't take the teasing any longer. Grabbing Jeonghan's hand, you guided it to your clothed pussy, under your loose shorts, pressing his fingers against the wet fabric of your panties. He let you lead him, his uncertainty evident, but the touch was enough to make you whine.

Jeonghan's breath hitched as he felt the heat and dampness beneath his hand. His jeans suddenly felt unbearably tight, and he realized he was suffering just as much as you were.

He wanted to make you feel good, but he wasn't entirely sure how to proceed.

Taking a deep breath, he started to move his fingers tentatively, exploring the shape of you through your panties. His touch was hesitant at first, but as he felt you react, he grew a little bolder, pressing more firmly and rubbing small circles over your sensitive spot–that he have found based on your moaning frequency.

You moaned softly, the sound making Jeonghan shiver. He could feel your hips moving against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure. His own arousal was becoming almost unbearable, but he was focused on you, on the way your body responded to his touch.

"Jeonghan," you breathed, your voice thick with desire. "Don't stop."

Encouraged by your words, Jeonghan's movements became more confident. He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles, while his fingers teased along the edges of your panties. Each touch makes you gasp and arch your back.

Jeonghan's eyes were locked on your face, watching the expressions of pleasure that played across it. He wanted to make you feel good, to see you lose yourself in the sensations he was creating.

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I need you."

That was all the encouragement Jeonghan needed. With a newfound determination, he slipped his hand inside your panties, his fingers finally making contact with your wet, aching core. You let out a shuddering moan, your hips bucking against his hand as he explored your wet cunt, flipping the folds, and the clit with his fingers.

You had always noticed Jeonghan's hands, often daydreaming about how they might feel pleasuring you. And now, here you were, living out that fantasy. You murmured against his lips, "Put your fingers inside me."

Jeonghan moaned softly at your words, the sensitivity in his voice making you even more aroused. He gently slid a slender finger inside you, your pussy immediately clenching tight around him. The sensation made you clap a hand over your mouth as your hips shuddered involuntarily.

"Can I put another one in?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

You moaned in response, clenching around his finger to let him know you wanted more.

So he took this as a yes.

He carefully inserted a second finger. You sobbed with pleasure, grabbing his arm and burying your open mouth against his shoulder. The fact that Jeonghan looked so innocent and focused while doing this made you even hornier.

"You're doing so fucking good, Jeonghan," you panted, motivating him to continue. "Your fingers feel so amazing inside me. Keep going, just like that."

His cheeks grew red at the lack of filter in your words, but he continued, determined to make you feel as good as possible. When his fingers brushed upwards, hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside you, you let out a loud, pornographic moan.

Jeonghan froze for a moment, realizing he had hit a good spot, making it clear he needed to do that again.

He repeated the motion, and your reaction was immediate, your body arching with pleasure. You grew impatient, quickly taking off your shorts and panties, spreading your legs wider for him.

Jeonghan's eyes widened as he saw your pussy, wet and throbbing, his hand already soaked from your arousal, and the creamy sound of your juices nearly overwhelmed him.

"Jeonghan, I need more," you gasped, your voice dripping with need. "Please, keep doing that. It feels so good. You’re making me so wet."

He continued to move his fingers, now more confidently, brushing that sensitive spot again and again. "Like this?" he asked, his voice husky with arousal.

"Yes, just like that," you moaned, your hips rocking against his hand. "You’re so good at this, Jeonghan. I’ve wanted this for so long. Your fingers feel so perfect inside me."

His blush deepened, but he didn’t stop. If anything, your words spurred him on, making him want to please you even more. The intensity of your arousal drove him wild, and he couldn't help but marvel at how your body responded to his touch.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice shaky. "I can't believe this is happening."

"It is," you panted, your eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "And it's even better than I imagined. Don't stop, Jeonghan. Please, don't stop."

He nodded, focusing on the rhythm that made you moan so deliciously. The room filled with the sounds of your pleasure, the creamy wetness of your pussy.

"God, Jeonghan, look at how wet you make me," you moaned, your voice dripping with need. "I want you to fuck me with your fingers until I can't take it anymore."

He swallowed hard, his eyes wide with arousal–and awe.

He felt you were near. Your breath hesitated, your fingers clenched around his arm, your pussy tightened around his fingers, and your mouth fell open in a perfect 'O'.

You came back from your orgasm with a shuddering moan, squirming and closing your legs together as the waves of pleasure rolled through you.

Jeonghan waited for you to compose yourself, slowly withdrawing his fingers. A line of cum connected his finger and your pussy, and the sight made your breath hitch again. You raised your hand and palmed his cock through his jeans, causing Jeonghan to tremble and a whimper to leave his mouth.

"Are you going to let me touch you?" you asked, your voice low and seductive.

Jeonghan nodded, lowering his jeans and boxers to his knees. His cock sprang free, landing against his thigh. Your eyes widened in awe at the sight. His long cock was flushed a deep pink, almost red, with pre-cum dripping from the tip as if he had already cum. His balls looked full, heavy with need.

Seeing you almost 'appreciating the view' Jeonghan blushed and said shyly, "Y/N-nie, don't look at me like that."

You teased him with a smirk, "Like what, Jeonghan? Like you're the most delicious thing I've ever seen? Because you are. Your cock is so beautiful, I can't wait to feel it in my mouth, to taste you."

Jeonghan's blush deepened, but his cock twitched in response to your words. "R-really?" he stammered, his shyness evident.

You leaned in closer, your hand wrapping around his shaft, feeling the weight and heat of him. "Really," you purred. "I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel. Do you want that, Jeonghan? Do you want me to suck your cock, to take you in my mouth and make you cum?"

His eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping his lips. "Yes, please," he whispered, his voice trembling with anticipation.

You leaned forward, your breath ghosting over the head of his cock, making him shiver. "Good boy," you whispered, before taking him into your mouth. The taste of his pre-cum was salty and sweet, and you moaned around his length, the vibrations making him gasp.

You worked your mouth up and down his shaft, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper. Jeonghan's hands clenched the sheets, his hips bucking slightly as he tried to control himself. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and the sight of you with his cock in your mouth made him groan.

"Y/N, that feels so good," he panted, his voice rough with need. "Please, don't stop."

You hummed around him, taking him even deeper, your throat relaxing as you swallowed around his length.

His reaction was immediate, a choked moan spilling from his lips as his hips jerked.

"You liked that, didn't you?" you teased, pulling back to lick a long stripe up the underside of his cock. "You like it when I take you deep, when I make you feel so good."

"Yes," he gasped, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "I love it. Please, more."

You took him back into your mouth, your hand pumping the base of his cock as you bobbed your head. Jeonghan's moans grew louder, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. You could feel him getting closer, his cock twitching in your mouth, his thighs trembling.

"I'm gonna– Hm!" his voice was strained. "Y/N, I'm so close."

You didn't stop, your mouth working him faster, harder, determined to make him cum. Jeonghan's body tensed, his moans turning into desperate whimpers as he reached his peak. With a final, shuddering gasp, he came, his hot cum filling your mouth.

You swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, before pulling back and looking up at him with a satisfied smile. Jeonghan's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

He was fucked. That was the only thought running through Jeonghan's mind as he lay there, his body still trembling from his orgasm. The way you were looking at him right now, with a burning gaze that promised so much more, was driving him wild. The kind features you normally wore had given way to a predatory look, and he found it incredibly arousing.

You pushed him gently, making him lie back on the bed. You helped him take off his shirt, your hands gliding over his smooth skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your eyes never left his as you moved lower, and lower, until you were level with his chest.

Jeonghan's breath hitched as you licked around his nipple, your warm tongue sending jolts of pleasure through him. Your other hand slid down his ribcage until you reached his other nipple, pinching it weakly. He was hazy, his mind clouded with desire, and he couldn't stop the moans that escaped his lips.

"Do you enjoy that?" you teased, your voice sultry and low. "I love hearing you moan like this."

Jeonghan sucked in a breath, trying to stop himself from moaning–like it was something bad.. The effort made him tremble, especially when your teeth grazed his sensitive bud.

"Jeonghan," you murmured, your voice a tantalizing whisper. "I want to hear you. Don't hold back."

He looked at you, his eyes wide and filled with submission. "Please," he whispered, his voice shaky. "Don't stop."

Your smile was wicked as you continued your ministrations, licking and nibbling on his nipples, alternating between the two. Jeonghan's moans grew louder, more desperate, as you pushed him further into a haze of pleasure.

"Good boy," you purred, your breath hot against his skin. "Just let go. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel."

Jeonghan's head fell back against the pillow, his body arching into your touch. "Oh, God," he moaned, his voice breathless. "It feels so good."

You felt a surge of satisfaction at his words, your own arousal intensifying. You moved your mouth lower, kissing and nipping at his skin, leaving a trail of love bites down his torso. His body was like a live wire beneath you, every touch sending shivers through him.

"You're so sensitive," you murmured against his skin, your tongue dipping into his navel. "I love it. I love making you feel this way."

Jeonghan's hands gripped the sheets, his knuckles white from the effort. "Y/N, please," he begged, his voice a raw whisper. "I need you."

You paused, looking up at him with a teasing smile. "Need me? How do you need me, Jeonghan? Tell me what you want."

His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but his desire overpowered his shyness. "I want you," he breathed. "I want to feel you. Please, Y/N."

You moved back up his body, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him deeply. His hands found your waist, holding you tightly as he returned the kiss with fervor.

"You're going to get everything you want," you promised against his lips. "But first, I want to hear you moan again. Can you do that for me, Jeonghan?"

He nodded, his eyes dark with lust. "Yes," he whispered. "I'll moan for you. I'll do anything for you."

With that, you resumed your teasing, your hands and mouth working together to drive him to the edge once more. And true to his word, Jeonghan didn't hold back. His moans filled the room.

You reached into the drawer beside your bed, picking up a condom and ripping it open with your teeth. The sound made Jeonghan's breath hitch, and his eyes followed your every move. You slid the condom onto his cock, smiling as you felt his stomach tremble at the contact.

Straddling him, you positioned yourself over his length, teasing him by sliding the head of his cock in and out of your dripping entrance. Jeonghan's whines grew louder, his hips bucking slightly as he tried to push deeper into you.

"Please," he begged, his voice strained with need.

You tilted your head, pretending not to understand. "Please what, Jeonghan? What do you want me to do?"

He blushed, his shyness momentarily overpowering his desperation. "Please, put it in," he whispered.

You continued to tease him, moving just the tip of his cock in and out of you, creating a delicious friction. "Put what in, Jeonghan?" you asked, your voice dripping with seduction. "I want to hear you say it."

Jeonghan's cheeks flushed even deeper, but his desire was too strong to hold back. "Let me slide inside your pussy." he finally whispered, his voice shaky and embarrassed.

You smiled wickedly, loving the way the dirty words sounded coming from someone as innocent-looking as him. "Good boy," you murmured. "That's what I wanted to hear"

Slowly, you sank down onto him, taking your time to savor the sensation of him filling you up. Jeonghan's eyes fluttered closed, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. His hands gripped your hips, holding you tight as he tried to keep from thrusting up into you.

"Fuck," he gasped, his voice raw with pleasure. "You feel so good."

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear. "You feel amazing too, Jeonghan," you whispered. "I love how you fill me up. Do you like being inside me?"

"Yes," he groaned, his hands tightening on your hips. "I love it. I love feeling you around me."

You started to move, rocking your hips slowly, savoring the way his cock stretched you. Jeonghan's face was a picture of pure ecstasy, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure, his lips parted as he panted for breath. Every thrust made his stomach tighten, his muscles quivering with the effort to hold back.

"You look so beautiful like this," you murmured, your hands sliding up his chest. "So vulnerable. I love making you feel good."

Jeonghan's eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting yours. "Y/N, please," he whimpered. "I need more. Please, fuck me harder."

You smiled, picking up the pace, your movements becoming more urgent. "You like it when I fuck you hard, hm?" you teased, your voice low and seductive.

"Yes," he gasped, his head falling back against the pillow. "I love it. Please, don't stop."

You rode him harder, your hips slamming down onto his with a rhythm that drove both of you wild. Jeonghan's moans grew louder, more desperate, as he felt himself getting closer to the edge.

"You're such a good boy," you purred, your hands sliding up to his shoulders for better leverage. "You take my pussy so well. Do you want to cum for me, Jeonghan?"

"Yes," he cried out, his voice breaking with need. "Please, let me cum. I need to cum so bad."

As you rode him harder and harder, he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. His body tensed, his breath hitched, and he could barely form coherent thoughts as pleasure consumed him entirely.

"You're going to cum again?" you asked.

Jeonghan tried to answer, he really did. But when he felt the waves of pleasure crashing over him, all he could do was surrender to the overwhelming sensation. His eyes rolled back, his back arched, and he came inside the condom with a primal moan, his entire body trembling with release.

Your name fell from his lips over and over again, like a mantra, as he rode out his orgasm. He felt like he was floating, as you continued to move above him, drawing out every last drop of pleasure.

When the intensity finally subsided, Jeonghan's body relaxed, completely spent. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath, his body still tingling with the aftershocks of his second orgasm.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. "You were amazing, baby." you murmured, your voice soft and tender.

Feeling Jeonghan's sensitivity beneath you, you decided to shift your focus. You didn't want to push him too far, especially after the intense release he just experienced. So, you brought his thumb to your lips, spitting on it to moisten it before guiding it down to your swollen clit.

His touch was tentative at first, but as you encouraged him, he grew more confident, his finger tracing circles on your sensitive bud. You could feel the pressure building within you, your body responding eagerly to his touch despite the softness of his cock inside you.

As he continued to stimulate you, you could feel yourself squeezing around his cock, your walls clenching involuntarily as pleasure washed over you. Your orgasm approached rapidly, fueled by the dual sensations of his finger on your clit and his cock filling your cunt.

You guided the rhythm of his finger, matching it to the pace that drove you wild. With each circle, each stroke, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Right there," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't stop, Jeonghan. Keep going."

His movements became more urgent, more insistent, as he worked you towards your peak. Your breaths came in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling with anticipation.

And then, with a shuddering moan, your orgasm crashed over you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being. Your muscles tensed, your back arched, as you cried out his name.

Jeonghan continued to finger you through your climax, his touch gentle yet firm, prolonging the intensity of your pleasure until you were completely spent.

Feeling Jeonghan's finger continue to work you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, you couldn't help but laugh softly at the oversensitivity coursing through your body. Sensations danced along your skin, making every touch, every caress feel electrifying.

You gently guided his hand away from your clit, needing a moment to catch your breath and revel in the lingering waves of pleasure. With a satisfied sigh, you reached down, taking his cock in your hand and sliding it out of your pussy. It was still slick with your arousal, and you couldn't help but admire the sight of it, flushed and spent.

Turning towards him, you captured his lips in a sweet, lingering kiss, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. As you pulled back, you met his gaze, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

Leaning in close, you whispered into his ear, your breath hot against his skin, "You know, Jeonghan, I still need to fuck you with your glasses on."

[wandering-gambler]

I can see Wanderer and Reader being friends for multiple years, but everyone else just thought you were a couple, but you guys didn't see it

you walk close, you sit together everywhere. Wherever you see one, the other follows close behind

You’ve gone to a hot springs together and sat questionably close together that it would be basically considered his lap, yet claimed you were still friends

Hell, when Wanderer comes over to your place to study for his Akademiya classes (even though he probably doesn't need to research shit, but he helps you anyway), he’ll occasionally (most of the time) let you rest on his chest or lap as you read or write

Oh, it's raining? Well, we can't have you getting sick under his watch! Get under his hat quickly, and no, you cannot talk your way out. You must be covered (if you did ever get sick under his watch, he’d internally panic and take care of yourself the entire time but scold you for not being more careful)

Are your hands cold? Let him hold one, or hell, even both! Oh, they aren't cold? Well, they feel freezing to him, so of course they are…

Did You get him a gift? You’ll see it in his room weeks later, or if it's a wearable gift, then you’ll see it on his person somewhere, and anyone who asks about it gets the pleasure of seeing him tense up and glare at him while trying to explain its from the person he is 100% down bad for but is too scared to admit it his friend

Wanna spar? Well, he’s more than willing to fight with you, but he in no way, shape, or form will use anything close to his full strength, and if he did harm you? Well, then get ready for him acting like half the world exploded but scolding you and himself for what happened

Have a drink together while you Yap to him about random stuff? Sure! But keep in mind that he's listening to everything, so you won't want to slip up anywhere.

On the getting-a-drink note, if you bring him tea on the occasions you wanna meet with him, it’ll eventually become a habit… and he has some great memory, so if you're early or late or even worse if you don't show up, you will be questioned to no end

It's your birthday? You may not have told him at any point in your time together, but he knows for some reason (Nahida), and he’s already planned to take you somewhere!

(Now, this one is purely self-indulgent because it's my birthday today and the day before Valentine's Day.) If you have a birthday near any holiday, he might complain that it's a waste and a money grab for humans. Well, it's hard to take that seriously when he’s out actively shopping with you for both your birthday and the holiday and taking you on an outing in twenty minutes that he swears to anyone who asks that it is not a date…

Are you tired while you are watching the stars with him? Oh, no worries, rest on his chest, and he’ll ramble about the constellations until you sleep

On the very slim chance he opens up to you, which would likely be late at night, maybe even when you guys were watching the stars or done studying, he’ll, for once in his life, let you hold him. Still, you’d have to be highly close to that. I feel like he would start small at first, like with his past names, then maybe some places he's been, then more about who he was, and then eventually the betrayals now if you choose to listen to him opening up (please do it's a big step into a more significant relationship and makes him feel like he can trust you more) then when he gets more into the personal things like the betrayals or what dottore did to him he’ll more than likely just be held by you for the next few hours— you won't be able to see his face. Still, your shirt feels wet, and when it's finally time to leave, his eyes are pretty red…don’t question it, though, unless you wanna be avoided for the rest of the night until tomorrow at lunch

And yet, you’ll still be ‘friends’ after all that. Eventually, Nahida tries to nudge him in the right direction to set you both up. When do you both get together? Well, not much changes besides the fact you now have the privilege to smother him in affection and a few… other things

[coolwyous]

┈─★ 𝘪 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 ( 𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 — 𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙤. )

  ⊹ ࣪ ˖ after 3 years of dating rising star and hockey team captain megan skiendiel, your senior year of college signals the end of an era. as she approaches her final season, the two of you navigate how much you're willing to push and pull to pursue her dreams— and figure out where yours fit in all of this, too.

         ˎˊ˗  ❄️  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  🔓୭˚.  ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

   ➴ pairing: hockey captain! megan skiendiel x english major! f!reader

         ➴ genre + wc: 18k, fluff, angst, established relationship, poor stress management tbh, also reader keeps a lowkey shitty secret for a lot longer than needed, happy ending.

   ➴ you might want to tune in...: ditto - newjeans

      ┈─★ a/n: chat are we ready to say goodbye to dittoverse.... i'm ngl i'll miss my hockey wigline! so grateful that i got to start my writing journey w ditto pt i and now i get to write this to truly circle all the way around. lmk what you think <3

cw:// brief mentions of recreational drug use, mild violence but once again it's a hockey fic!

“ladies and gentlemen, megan thee skiendiel!”

you announce the introduction into your pen, quickly shoving the makeshift mic over the table into megan’s face. 

“i’d get copyrighted.” she wrinkles her nose. “and my last name is so not tough enough.”

you shake your head, bringing the pretend microphone back to your face. “megan thee captain, then.”

“cheesy,” she grins at you. you match her smile right back. “i need something better for my interview.”

“megan thee girlfriend,” you tease, as she taps her chin as if to genuinely contemplate it.

“that’s a good one.” she grabs her notebook and pretends to jot them down. “megan thee property of y/n.”

“okay, relax,” you laugh. “what’s your day look like?”

the ginger lets out a sigh, and your heart aches as you realize you’ve popped the bubble. the topic you’ve both been avoiding as you try to make the most of your quality time: your girlfriend’s insane schedule. 

“we leave to the airport after class,” she lists off, holding up a finger, “then the hotel, away game tomorrow evening, fly back saturday morning.”

“we prep your presentation, prep your speech,” you add, reminding her what you were working on in the first place.

“oh, and then monday i have to go with the department to do a ribbon cutting at an elementary school,” megan adds. “they started a girl’s hockey team in partnership with the university.”

“you’re terrible with kids,” you laugh.

“i fucking know i’m terrible with kids,“ she groans, burying her face in your shoulder. “how do i not knock them over or accidentally swear in front of them or whatever?”

“things are only going to get busier during midterms.” you frown at the mere thought of how overloaded her schedule is. “so you breathe when?”

“right now,” megan wrinkles her nose, before her mind escapes elsewhere. “we should get a dog.”

“oh, i’m sure my roommate-who-isn’t-you would love that,” you snort. megan still lives in that same house with dani, who now coaches, and lara, who’s finishing up her internship. 

“not now, just later.” she grins and wraps her arm around your waist, scooting your chair in up next to hers far too easily. she brings her nose to your hear, mumbling into your hair. “hey, be my date to alumni night?”

“i’d crash out if you picked anyone else.” you laugh, pressing a kiss into her cheek. “like on the floor, snot all over my face, ugly crying.”

“no, you look so so sad when you cry. thank god you’re the only person i want as my date,” she grins. 

a voice quickly bursts your bubble. again.

“shhhh.” you’ve almost completely forgotten about the couple trying to read across the table from you as you get caught up in your whispers. “library is for studying. less yapping.”

“we’re inside a study room,” you squint at her.

“sorry minji,” megan adds fearfully, her brows furrowing.

“please don’t feel the need to apologize to her,” you wave her off. you’re grateful that your friendship with minji hasn’t just survived the years, but thrived, and now results in you living in a off-campus 2 bedroom apartment with her and her girlfriend. of course, you’d ideally be living with megan, but given her travel schedule, it worked out better for you guys to live apart.

“i’m smarter than both of you,” minji says flatly.

the newest addition to your friend group, megan’s old roommate, danielle marsh, pokes her head out from behind the book she’s diving into, pushing minji gently on the shoulder as a reprimand.

“be nice.”

“thank you, marsh,” megan nods appreciatively, as you stick your tongue out at minji at her girlfriend’s reproach. 

“we should start walking to class anyways,” you wave her off, seeing the time in the corner of your laptop. your girlfriend takes the cue without question and bids your friends farewell with a nod of her head. 

megan, chivalrous, sweet megan, has never let you open a door for yourself, and got it into her head that you shouldn’t carry any of your own things either. you tried to tell her off when she first started doing it, but seeing how sad those puppy dog eyes got when you insisted she stop carrying your bookbag made you give in the next day, and the rest has been history. 

she immediately reaches for your backpack and extends a hand out to you. you take it and relish in how warm her skin is against yours. she makes a face, a wince, as she grabs her own bag and hauls the two of them over her shoulder while you make your way out of the library together.

“is your back okay?” you ask, worried about her reaction.

“it would be if you stopped carrying every single one your textbooks in this damn bag.” she huffs, but the sparkle in her eye tells you she’s still just teasing you. she squeezes your hand reassuringly. “i get that you paid for them but jesus christ baby, get them online next time.”

“we have one last semester, think you can handle my books for a few months longer?” you tease back.

“don’t remind me,” she tells you, but you see something in her face change at the mention of your college experience coming to an end. 

before you can ask anything about it, a few random people come up to the two of you, one girl stopping in your tracks.

“hi, could we get a picture?” she asks, sticking her phone out.  “my dad loves you. says you’ve revamped women’s college hockey.”

you give megan a look but graciously step to the side, letting the strangers squeeze in next to her. megan shoots you an apologetic glance but immediately perks up into a smile for the girl’s photo.

“i think daniela avanzini changed the game, i just followed up on what she started,” she smiles, holding a thumbs up for the photo. they thank her and scurry off, leaving you to reclaim your girlfriend by the hand as you resume your walk to class.

“my mini-celebrity,” you pretend to fan yourself. “want me to sign an nda?”

“oh god, i hate when you say a bunch of letters,” she wrinkles her nose, shaking her head. “my fucking brain is so cooked.”

“chat, do i define nda for her or do i let her guess?”

“nonchalant drippy alpha.” megan grins.

“actually it’s never die, asshole.”

“i think it’s nine dry assholes,” she adds on.

“why did you fixate on the asshole part? and why are there nine of them?” you squint at her, poking her nose with your fingertip. “weirdo.”

“you’re weirder.” she grabs your finger and plants a kiss on it, then another, and another. “and you love me.”

your heart stirs at the sight of her cute brown eyes peeking out at you expectantly from under that stupid beanie. you’ll be stuck with a forever crush on this giant dork.

“maybe,” you shrug.

megan beams, then drops her voice into her stereotypical gamer voice, pretending to speak into an imaginary microphone like how you two had in the library.

“oh fuck yeah. we got a maybe from fineshyt, chat, please clip.”

you roll your eyes, but hold on just a bit tighter to her hand. megan is quick to squeeze right back.

-

your schedule is busy, between finishing your senior capstone project and the full course load you’re taking, on top of the online editing job you work in between it all. you’ve found an effective way to balance your workload, but for every day you want to grumble and complain about your schedule, you look at the google calendar that you share with your girlfriend, and send a silent prayer of gratitude that your days look nothing like hers.

your semester gets off to a slightly bumpy start, as megan tries to fit the beginning of the new season and her captain duties in with the classes she’s taking, but you two have managed to make it work.

and by make it work, you mean do whatever you can to try and spend whatever shred of time she can spare together.

like tonight, for example, when you’re done with classes and calling megan as soon as you’re done with your editing shift before you start homework.

she picks up on the second ring, and you can hear the bustle of people’s voices behind her in the background. she’d likely have just gotten out of practice given it’s this late in the afternoon.

“hi. just checking if i’m gonna see you tonight?” you greet her.

“hi, sorry.” she lets out a sigh, and you can practically picture the way she’s wrinkling her nose from all the stress. “i have tapes to review with the new players, then i have a coach’s meeting with the department, then we’re shooting an ad with gatorade.”

“when do you eat?” you ask, feeling your brows knit together. 

“sometime in between all of that,” she breathes, a quiet laugh leaving her lips. you admire her, the way she doesn’t complain about any of it, but you’re always worried she’s pushing her limits.

“did you finish your homework?” you ask. granted, you’re only a few weeks into the semester, but in your years of dating, you had taken over the role of making sure megan stayed on top of her academics, and you weren’t about to let up now.

“i worked on some things in class,” she reassures you. “i’ll finish when i get home.”

“can i postmate you something?” you offer, but she’s quick to cut you off.

“no don’t worry about it, please,” she says hurriedly, but before you can insist, the phone clatters around on her end and you’re suddenly hearing a familiar voice that isn’t quite megan’s.

“i love you mami, you mean everything to me, my heart bleeds for you,” dani’s voice is loud and teasing over the sound of chatter in the background. you hear a chorus of girls laughing, and it brings a smile to your face to picture megan whining and turning red at daniela’s playful taunts.

“oh my god, fuckin’ dani,” megan groans, regaining control over the phone. “sorry about her. she’s even worse now that she’s a coach.”

“well is she right?” you grin.

“you’re the only thing that keeps me sane some days.” you can hear megan’s voice lighten up, warm and joyful. “i love you so much.”

“i can wait for you at your place,” you offer. megan still lives in the same house with lara and dani which makes the drive from your apartment with minji much easier. 

“i’d love that.” you can hear her smile, picture her little whisker dimples, and it sends a wave of warmth over you. “i gotta go. see you soon.”

you drive over to megan’s place and you barely get a chance to knock before the door swings open, revealing the charming former goalie.

“hiiiii y/n,” lara drawls, her bright smile never fading as she greets you, ushering you in. “how’s senior year treating you?”

“oh you know,” you grimace, kicking off your shoes. 

“you’ll make it through just fine,” she reassures you, “plus you have that—”

you shake your head quickly, to cut her off. “please don’t remind me.”

lara’s perceptive, quick to pick up on your anxieties and dissect them. maybe it’s the fact that you’ve dated her best friend for the past three years, but lara knows you far better than you’d ever have anticipated.

“you haven’t told her yet?” she asks in disbelief, her eyes widening.

“i know i know.” you wince. “the right time hasn’t come up.”

“i trust you, but sooner rather than later, right?” she gives you an empathetic tilt of the head.

“of course,” you nod. “i appreciate you.”

“always,” she smiles, before adding a quick heads up. “make yourself at home. she’s been coming home super late recently, you might be up for a while.”

between homework, studying, and reading, the hours alone in megan’s room melt away. you don’t even realize that you’ve fallen asleep when you hear the door creak open, jolting you awake. you check your phone and see it read just past 1:30am. 

“home invasion?” you smile, worried about how late she’s coming home, but grateful to see her nonetheless.

“hands up, sigma,” megan jokes weakly, setting her bag down in the corner before coming to plant a kiss on your hair. 

“i could smell you from a mile away,” you tease back, taking in the state of her. she looks utterly spent, hair a mess, skin still looking sticky.

“the gatorade commercial people kept trying to talk to me even in the locker room. i didn’t have enough privacy to shower,” she groans.

“my poor girl,” you reach out to stroke her cheek. “you sound exhausted.”

“missed you,” she grumbles, pressing a kiss into your palm.

“glad you’re home,” you tell her. “please come rest.”

megan nods, peeling her hoodie off over her shoulders.

“after my shower i’m passing out,” she calls out to you as she disappears into the bathroom.

“i’ll make sure you wake up on time. c’mon,” you beckon her, taking a look at your phone. if she sleeps in the next 20 minutes, she’ll maybe manage to get 6 hours before she has to be up again to head to campus. you tuck yourself in as you hear the water run, and take to tik tok to keep yourself awake to be ready to hear about her day.

you’re not fully aware of how much time has passed from your scrolling until your eyes flicker up to the time in the corner. nearly 2:15am. 

you hear the water still running. megan deserves the luxury of a hot shower, but almost an hour has never been part of her habits. you jump up and enter the bathroom slowly, as to not disturb her.

“megan?” you call out, only to be met with silence.

you pull back the curtain to see your girlfriend, standing with her forehead against the tile, head slumped forward with her eyes shut. she looks so, so peaceful, but you know you have to wake her. 

“hey,” you shake her gently. she jolts awake with a startle, and she looks so cute with her wet hair slicked back, but you’re extremely worried about what you just saw. “you okay?”

“sorry, sorry. it was so nice and warm,” she yawns, turning the water off.

“were you asleep?” you ask in disbelief, still holding onto the curtain.

she blinks a few times as you hand her a towel. “i think i closed my eyes when i was rinsing my hair and they just never opened.”

“that’s insane,” you laugh. “c’mon, let me braid your hair and we can finally go to bed.”

-

“she fell asleep in the shower last night.” you tell dani on the call, shaking your head in disbelief as you recount the events. “just straight up, literally, i shit you not, standing up.”

“like a horse?” dani questions.

“she’s so exhausted, but she never complains,” you sigh.

your friendships with daniela and lara had deepened in your time dating megan, and dani was someone you found would always be up for a quick call if she was free. though you tended to seek advice from lara about the more emotional things, dani had always given some tidbit of wisdom about the captain duties megan was taking on and how to best support her. this time was no different, though the pause she takes tells you she’s thinking about her words as to not worry you. 

“megan’s always been a workhorse,” she reminds you. “if there’s a gap, she’ll fill it. ‘i can do more,’ she always fuckin’ says. you know her. she’ll find the balance, i know she will.”

you look down at the email in your inbox. you want to tell her, you do, but the last thing you want is to add stress to her day.

“you’re right,” you sigh, and focus on the future.

-

halfway through the semester, and your schedules have only gotten more hectic. you’re grateful to have met megan early enough in her career that she had plenty of time for you guys to get to know each other. at this point, you’re scraping by on whatever in-betweens you’re both able to make work, but you won’t complain. you know she’s doing her best to fit it all in and be the best.

speaking of which, a facetime audio from your favorite contact photo interrupts your train of thought. it’s a picture of megan on her birthday, blowing out a candle, smiling so big it looks like her face might burst. your heart skips a beat to think the girl in the photo is the one you get to claim so proudly.

“hi you,” you greet.

“hi,” she chirps back. “are you still working on your blackstone?”

“that’s the grill,” you correct her quickly, laughing. “capstone is my project.”

“please forgive me, shorty,” she says in a stupid voice. you can practically picture her face.

“forgiven.” you smile, before checking the time. “what’s up? aren’t you supposed to be at practice?”

“they cut it short today cause coach and dani couldn’t stop arguing over about the starting lineup,” she explains, and you both laugh. “you and i haven’t had a real date in so long. can you squeeze me in?”

“i can move some things in my schedule.” your heart flips at the thought of being able to spend actual quality time with her. “i miss you.”

“miss you more. thanks for being flexible. see you soon?” she asks eagerly.

“where am i meeting you?”

“meet me in 20! i’ll text you,” she says, a little too quickly, and you instantly sense something’s up. but before you can question her, she chirps a quick “i love you” and hangs up.

you look down at your phone as you head towards your car and realize she’s sent you the location. you zoom out on the map until you realize where she’s got planned.

the lake….. megan meiyok be SO fr baby if u love me u wld be happy to spend any time w me it’s so cold outside i will bring you hot choco ples pls please pls pleas pls plspslpslpls OKAYYYY fine

the argument is over sooner than it started, and you’re heading over to the frozen lake where megan loves to practice when she doesn’t feel like heading to the arena.

“hi, beautiful,” she greets you, beaming smile. if you were angry earlier, her smile is enough to melt away any of your mild frustrations.

“hi you,” you greet back, pressing a kiss into her cheek

“we haven’t had a date on ice in a while,” she notes, handing you your skates that she keeps with hers.

“you’re determined to teach me how to skate,” you roll your eyes.

“you’re going to know how, our kids are going to know how, our crusty ass dog is going to know how.” she reaches out to you and steps onto the ice with the confidence of someone who’s never fallen. “we are for sure a skating family.”

you laugh and take her arm. you love the idea of the future she has pictured. 

“do you remember the first time you tried to take me on the ice?” you ask, as she pulls the two of you along on the bumpy frozen-over lake.

“you were so bad at it,” she laughs.

“everyone looks bad at it compared to you,” you frown.

“i think i expected you to be more graceful,” she grins.

“you’ve been skating since you could walk.” you roll your eyes and try to push her, but the movement just makes you wobbly on the ice. “cut me some slack.”

“while you studied your books, i studied the motherfucking blade,” she tells you.

“ok, relax naruto,” you laugh, trying to get your bearings as she lets go of your arm and skates ahead of you, turning backwards to face you effortlessly. show off.

“dare me to hit the most vile jutsu known to man?” she grins.

“literally what does that even mean?” you shake your head.

“it means i hit a nasty pose and copy myself a million times,” she beams, and you can’t stop laughing at the various poses she starts to contort herself into. 

“the bitches of the wnhl are gonna loooove you,” you sing song, watching her continue to hit what you can only assume are the most complex of nerdy naruto poses. 

“coach said he’s already getting teams ask about me,” she says excitedly, reaching back out for your hand to guide you along the ice.

“i bet they’ve been asking about you since your freshman year,” you reassure her.

megan’s smile softens as she looks at you, then looks at your intertwined hands. “we have grown a lot since then.”

“so much.”

“i feel really lucky.”

“how come?”

“everything just sort of worked out for me. about to graduate, captain by my junior year, met my college sweetheart. it’s like, so convenient.”

“you have worked extremely hard for everything you have,” you reassure her, reaching up to play with the hairs at the base of her neck. “i can’t think of anyone who works harder. you deserve everything good in your life.”

“some days i feel like i never deserved you,” she admits. 

“what? don’t be silly.” you squint at her. “you’re the superstar. i still get shy knowing i’m the one you call at the end of the night.”

“all these years and you still feel shy?” she looks at you with those wide, beautiful puppy dog eyes.

“you’re very, very good looking,” you admit, though you’ve told her a million times before how attractive you’ve found her. “and very funny, and unfortunately, extremely awkward, which meant i was doomed from the start.”

she makes a fist with her free hand and beams. “i bagged the baddie using my undeniable weird girl swag.”

“weirdest of weird girls,” you laugh. “i wouldn’t want anyone else.”

the weight of the email starts to strain inside your chest. lara’s words ring through your ears. this needs to be the time you say something.

“meg–” you start.

the buzz of her phone vibrates loudly against her pocket, cutting you off. she pulls her phone out and winces, letting go of your hand.

“it’s coach. i have to take this, nike wants to do an interview tomorrow and he’s losing his shit about it. i’m so sorry,” she offers you the most apologetic kiss she can muster.

“go for it.” you nod, but you feel the sinking in your chest. “i know what i signed up for.”

megan has to leave as soon as the call is over, and by the look on her face, she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. you can’t possibly bear to add something else to her plate. 

you head home, grateful for the tender moment you were able to share. maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you didn’t get to spoil it with your announcement.

you’re home and settling into your night when you get a text from minji in the other room. 

this you?

a post from a college sports gossip blog. it’s a picture of you and megan, on the ice, holding hands. 

you grimace. sure, the lake is in a public park, but who’s weird enough to be taking pictures of you at your most private times?

your fingers keep scrolling. 

you know dani had gone through this when her relationship with the coach’s daughter had gone public. megan had told you all about how they tried to keep it just between the team at first, but even with dani stepping down as captain, she was still a hot topic and being locked down by her coach’s own daughter made them campus celebrities for months. 

you’ve tried not to let the same thing bother you, but facts are facts: megan is one of the best college hockey players in the country, and dani made women’s hockey something to talk about. megan, by default, becomes something of a mini-celebrity on campus, and you are unfortunately stuck as her hockey wife. 

you look at the bright side. you knew her as a sweet, bright eyed freshman without a clue in the world, and despite all the recognition that’s come to her, she’s still the same old megan you fell in love with. you pick megan, and that means picking all that comes with her.

-

with midterms quickly coming and going, you and megan survive the grueling test season and make it out on the other side relatively unscathed. you know at this point in the semester, her team is starting to heat up, and with such a dominant performance so far in the season, her team is easily top in their conference, all but guaranteeing their spot in the playoffs. 

you’d think that she’d take it easy to maintain her pace, but lately, megan has been harder to get a hold of, somehow even less available than you had thought was possible. you cheer her on at every home game, and she was thrilled when you crashed with sophia to cheer her on at an away game, but lately, even lara mentions how much megan has been blowing her off to practice or tend to her captain duties.

you take it upon yourself to wait for her outside of the conference room, knowing she’s busy reviewing a recent interview she did with ESPN with the athletics department. when she finally comes out of the room, you feel yourself light up at the sight of your girlfriend.

what hurts your heart is for the first time in years, she doesn’t light up at the sight of you. her eyes are tired, and while she acknowledges you with a hug, the unintentional cold shoulder admittedly stings.

“hi,” she greets weakly, reaching out as you initiate a hug. 

you try to shake off your nerves at the interaction and squeeze her as tightly as you can. she takes heavy steps to lead the two of you out of the building. 

“i saw your interview. tried calling you in between but i know it was a busy day for you,” you chirp. “how’d you think it went?”

“not good,” megan shakes her head immediately. “i lost my shit so fast.”

“why are you being so hard on yourself? you did amazing,” you frown.

“thank you.” a beat, and she nuzzles her head into your shoulder. a flash of your familiar megan comes back, and it soothes your heart. you run your fingers through her hair to comfort her, and it seems to help as she lets out a sigh. “yeah, sorry. i’m stressing about my grades.”

“you have so much on your plate,” you tell her worriedly.

she groans. “and i’m barely holding on to this passing grade in my world literature class.”

“i can help with that,” you nod. “easily.”

the two of you find yourselves on a bench outside the building, sitting side by side. a brief moment of peace with your ever-busy girlfriend.

“i don’t want you always doing my english homework for me,” she tells you, biting her lip.

“i’d never, you know that meg. but i can help you make sense of it all.”

“glad one of us likes english,” she wrinkles her nose, reaching over to press a kiss into your temple. “i like that so much about you.”

english. your mind wanders to the email. it’s been months now since you told yourself you’d say something to her. you steady yourself with an inhale and reach for her hand.

“speaking of english, i wanted to find a good time to tell you,” you start quietly.

“hm?” she arches a brow, those puppy eyes looking at you nervously.

“i got an offer for a master’s program in the UK.” you confess. “lodging would be paid for, i’d be a research assistant which would cover the costs of my program. it’s literally perfect megan, like a dream come true.”

megan’s eyes are wide. you’re waiting for the hug, the congratulatory cheer, but instead, she just stares back at you.

“oh.” she says simply. “you actually applied?”

“yes.” you furrow your brows. “i didn’t just mention it to mention it.”

“i didn’t think you were serious about it,” she admits, and it stings to hear her tone. dismissive. something you would have never expected given all the wins you two make such a big deal of celebrating.

“why do you say that?” you question, trying to regulate yourself.

“it’s so far,” she says quietly, opening her mouth to add more, but nothing comes out. she looks away, pulling her hand from yours.

“hey,” you push, scooting closer to her on the bench. “you okay?”

“i’m anxious,” she admits. 

“i know,” you sigh. “just between practice, and your meetings, and your interviews, there’s never enough time to talk about the heavier stuff. i didn’t want to let more time pass. we haven’t exactly had a ton of time to talk about next steps.”

“y/n, you know it’s either hockey, or nothing for me after college ends. i need to go pro.” her eyes are determined, but there’s something more to them, something that worries you. “if i lose this season, my future is out the window. i can’t lose you too.”

“dani was the best player in the country and she didn’t end up going pro. everything can change so fast. you need to be prepared with a backup plan, meg,” you remind her. it’s not that you don’t foresee her succeeding, but you remember how torn up she was when dani got injured, and how fast it all changed. “you’re so much more than this sport.”

“i am nothing without hockey,” she says quickly, her face tensing. you don’t like what’s coming over her, but more so, you don’t know what’s coming over her. she’s never gotten like this in all your years together. determined, sure, but never this insistent, never this aggressive.

“yes you are,” your brows furrow. 

“it’s everything to me.”

“what about your friends? your hobbies?” you press, before your voice softens. “what about me?”

“i wouldn’t have any friends without hockey. i don’t have hobbies,” she says quickly, shaking her head. “and i wouldn’t have met you without hockey.”

“but you got all those things along the way. hockey didn’t do that for you, they just happened. you made your friendships happen, i like you for you and not what you do.”

“no i get that, i just feel like i really need to focus. i’m really sorry.” she lets out a deep breath, and reaches again for your hand, and you feel slightly reassured by the gesture as her body relaxes. “i’ll make it up to you.”

“i know you will. just take it easy on yourself, please?” you plead, reaching over to brush some hair out of her face.

you see her wipe at the corners of her eyes. you reach for her and lay her head down on your shoulder, playing gently with her hair. 

-

“i’m worried about megan,” you say quietly, later that night on another phone call with daniela as megan is off to do another tape review with the team. 

“she’s been dreaming of this since she was a kid,” dani sighs. “the only thing she loves as much as she loves this sport is you.”

“i’m scared she’s going to burn out,” you confess.

“if there’s a time to push, it’s now,” dani reminds you.

“do you think i’m maybe doing too much?” you ask. you stare at a framed photo of you and the ginger that you keep hanging above your desk in your room, a picture of the two of you on a picnic. “like i’m asking too much of her?”

“that’s not a question for me,” dani tells you. “i’m in no position to be giving relationship advice. barely figured out how to make one work on my own.”

you laugh softly. “you know, it was easier when you were in charge.”

“i made that shit look soooo easy.” you can hear her smile over the phone. “nobody gets how hard it was. megan’s good at it but she’s not ever going to half-ass something.”

you stare at the photo. megan’s adorable dimples, her shining eyes, her wide smile: things you haven’t seen her do in what feels like weeks. 

“i don’t think she has enough of herself left to give,” you say quietly.

-

the alumni night rolls around, and it’s a blast for you to see all the girls who graduated. they open up the arena for a few hours of free ice skating and talking to the team. it’s a welcome few hours to enjoy with her, and as you promised, you show up extra early to be her date.

megan, forever the adorable face of the team, gives a quick welcome speech on the ice and thanks everyone for being there. she poses briefly with a few of the donors for some pictures and then finds you to guide you onto the ice. 

you’re wobbly, as expected, but megan keeps her arm held out to you, anchoring you as she pushes off strong enough for the both of you to lap lazy circles around and around without much effort on your end.

“i’ll get good at this eventually,” you reassure her, trying your best not to wobble and fall. 

“that’s what i’m here for,” she smiles back at you. “also looks sick to have such a pretty girl on my arm.”

“you’re sweet,” you grin. after your talk, things had been tense, but you had tried to ease up and just support her. dani’s words would ring through your head, about how bad you want this, and you remembered how much you love megan’s determination. 

“my babies, always looking more and more grown up,” lara sing songs from behind you both as she catches up on the ice. you spot lara’s girlfriend, plus yunjin, and dani, plus dani’s girlfriend, all joining you. 

lara chats to yunjin about her therapy internship she’s doing at a local mental health center, and yunjin rambles excitedly about how boston is going for her and the super cool job she bagged straight after graduation. dani barely counts as an alumni considering she works at the university now, but she’s still wearing an alumni name tag, enjoying the attention of people asking her what it’s like to be on the other side of it all. 

“zuha just got here!” yunjin announces loudly, looking down at a text on her phone with a beaming grin. 

“kazuha signed to the vegas golden knights right after graduation,” megan says quickly. several of the seniors that year got drafted and you remember megan following all their stats meticulously.

“hoping to join her?” you ask curiously, trying to be a good sport about it all. 

“just want to know what it’s like, she calls but she’s too busy to talk very long.” you can sense the urgency in her voice. “do you mind if i chat with her?”

“don’t be gone too long. i might get brave and try to skate again without you, might lose a tooth,” you tell her, smiling.

she presses a kiss to your forehead and sets your arm carefully on the wall, allowing you to pull yourself along to the exit. 

you sit on one of the benches to unlace the blades from your feet, when eunchae comes to join you.

eunchae greets you with a broad smile and you return it, happy to see the once star-struck rookie who had blossomed into megan’s right-hand on the ice. megan had stayed close with dani and lara since they didn’t move away after graduating, but eunchae, being a year younger, had quickly become megan’s new closest teammate. 

“it’s like ghosts came back,” she says as she sits next to you. “i missed everyone, but things are so different in just a year.”

“so different,” you agree.

“i’ll keep an eye on her for you,” she tells you, as if she can read your worries. “i know she’s been off lately. the new girls don’t know what she was like before she was captain, but i do. i can tell she’s been struggling, this year more than ever.”

you give eunchae an appreciative smile. “you have no idea how much that means to me. dani keeps saying she’s fine, but i feel like this year is different for her.”

“it’s a lot of pressure. we have the playoffs and if we do well, the championships. megan’s been part of the championship team since she was a freshman. it would look terrible if we started losing once she became captain. i think she’s trying to look at it from all angles,” eunchae explains, and it starts to click little by little for you.

“she doesn’t think she has any wiggle room,” you sigh, and the two of you spot her out on the ice, beaming widely at something kazuha is saying to her. your sweet, dorky megan, who shows up in flashes every once in a while.

eunchae offers you a nod of encouragement. “she’s got this, but i’ll let you know if i get worried. i can’t imagine this is very easy on you either.”

megan spots you from across the ice rink, and waves to the two of you. she says something quickly to kazuha before skating over to you, motioning for you to come back and join them. you and eunchae oblige, hopping onto the ice together.

“doing okay?” you check in.

she nods, but turns away for a moment, and you can see her trying to stifle a yawn. “i’m peachy.”

“how long have you been up for?” you question, holding onto her arm as eunchae chats kazuha’s ear off.

“um, i got up at 4 to do conditioning, then solo practice, radio interview at 6,” she starts to rattle off. you sigh and slip a hand into her back pocket, melting into her embrace.

“you need to fix your sleep schedule,” you chastise her.

“totally,” she agrees. “we can leave whenever.”

you’re about to suggest cutting the night early when a few extra voices cut in.

“cap!” 

megan squints at you apologetically before turning to greet the source of the noise. “hi guys.”

megan and eunchae welcome a wave of the newer girls. you recognize them freshmen and sophomores you’ve met in passing. haerin, moka, and maya, who all approach excitedly. 

you smile. years ago, it was you and megan who were the babies of the group, your sweet ginger being at her most bright-eyed and eager.

“this place is packed,” moka, one of the newer defenseman, gapes.

“insane, right?” maya, the starting goalie, agrees.

“hey, are we still good for an early practice tomorrow?” haerin asks megan, her voice quiet. you recognize her as a left wing: a high pressure spot with huge shoes to fill considering that was daniela’s former position, and works directly with megan as center to score the goals. you can’t imagine the pressure of being daniela’s replacement.

“for sure,” megan nods, and you can’t help but glare at her. so much for catching up on sleep. but these girls clearly admire her, and you won’t stand in the way of her being a doting team leader.

before they can keep going, a random guy comes up alongside you all, waving wildly at megan as if he knows her.

“my betting bracket depends on you,” he tells her, and you realize it’s just a fanboy. megan has had plenty in her time. “i’m putting it all on you getting us a dub.”

“thanks,” she says weakly, and eunchae gives her a quick glance as if to check in if she should do anything. you guys are all caught in an awkward silence as he simply skates alongside you all.

the guy opens his mouth to say something, but then notices your hand interlocked with megan’s, and brings a finger up to point at you.

“don’t fucking distract her, okay?” he warns.

you know he means it teasingly, but you can already feel megan’s body lurching at the gesture.

your girlfriend grabs him angrily by the sleeve, a warning look in her eyes as her grip locks tightly on his elbow. you see the younger girls freeze, all of you coming to a standstill as megan grabs him.

“don’t talk to her like that,” she warns harshly, her voice low. you can see the guy’s eyes widen in surprise, but more to your concern, you see the girls’ faces change. moka and maya are staring at each other, and haerin looks like she’s seeing a ghost.

“hey, relax,” you shake her arm, trying to bring her back to reality. you can tell she’s not all there by the way her dark eyes are still locked in on him, her grip still tight on his elbow. “he didn’t mean it like that.”

she blinks once, twice, and breathes slowly. “i’m sorry.”

“you can let go of him now,” eunchae says quietly, as if to not embarrass her. megan complies, and eunchae mentions something to the guy that has him skating off with a smile on his face, hopefully saving their interaction.

“sorry you guys had to see that,” megan tells the girls, shaking her head. “that was really not cool.”

“it’s okay, cap,” maya reassures her, if a bit too quickly, as if she’s kissing up. you smile at how hard they’re trying to cheer her up, but you can tell megan’s worried about how this affects their view of her, by the way she’s chewing her bottom lip.

“hey, it’s fine,” you reassure her, and moka nods in agreement.

“totally cool to protect your people,” she nods.

“i promise i’m not usually that quick to flip,” megan offers quietly, and you feel your heart ache at her embarrassment. usually, her protectiveness of you comes from a good place, but with all the stress, you can see her fuse is much shorter than normal.

“no, they know you’re a good person,” eunchae nods reassuringly.

“you’re thoughtful, and kind, and a good leader,” you reassure her, and the girls nod in agreement. “you work hard, harder than anyone i know, and you’re always willing to learn. you have zero ego.”

“alright, alright, i think i’ve blushed enough to reset my aura back into the negatives,” megan waves you off, wrinkling her nose, and the girls all beam back at you excitedly.

“i dunno cap, i think being a lovergirl actually proves you have rizz,” maya says, and haerin simply nods in eager agreement.

“yeah, coach dani loves telling stories about how you used to be this bitchless loser with zero social skills—” moka rambles, and you burst out laughing loud enough that it cuts her off.

“damn, your loser legacy lives on forever,” you grin, pinching her cheek.

“remind me to break her other knee once the season’s over so she’s got two bad legs,” megan groans, and eunchae laughs her off.

megan holds tightly onto your hand as you all continue to skate. eunchae chats excitedly with you and megan about some random stats, haerin is doing her best to listen and keep up, moka and maya are simply goofing off skating circles around each other on the ice in front of you all. 

your heart warms looking up at your girlfriend, never having been able to picture how far you two would come from just being dorky little freshmen. you know it won’t be for long, but the brief peace it brings you is enough to power you through the rest of the day. you hope it’ll last, but make peace with the idea that this might be the eye of the storm.

-

(the peace only lasts the night, and the storm stirs starting the very next day.)

this week, with a deadline for your senior project approaching, you’ve been the one with limited time to squeeze in megan. you make it work between facetimes and quick coffee dates, the two of you agreeing to spend at least a few nights out of the week together even if it’s just to sleep alongside each other, but you can tell that your schedules are working in opposite directions.

even today, when you’re done with all your obligations and studying in the campus library by yourself, you’re hoping to surprise megan with a quick dinner after practice, but your plans get thrown off when you get an unexpected call.

a call from eunchae, of all people, with the most random favor in the world to ask of you.

“hey, will you come to practice? like, now?”

“what? is everything okay?” your voice jumps an octave in disbelief. 

eunchae knows that you don’t come to practices, unlike some of the other hockey girlfriends, due to just how distracted megan gets by you being there. megan can focus when you’re cheering her on for games, but she’s explicitly banned you from practice after one too many missed shots because she’s too busy being nervous around you.

you’ve always found it sweet, and you know eunchae knows megan’s rule, so that’s why it’s surprising you that she’s explicitly going against the captain’s personal expectations.

“meg’s been, uh, how do i put this…” she pauses.

“eunchae?” you ask, worried with how long she’s taking.

“acting out,” she finally blurts, and you feel yourself grow even more confused. “it’s weird.”

your megan? your laser-focused, super professional megan, acting out?

“i’ll be there,” you tell her quickly, shutting your laptop and hurrying over to the hockey arena where they practice in a few short minutes.

eunchae is waiting for you by the entrance of the rink, out of view of the team, holding a tampon much too obviously in her hand. you laugh realizing this is probably the excuse she used in order to get off the ice and avoid suspicion when she gave you a call and waited for you in the middle of practice.

“acting out how?” you ask her, feeling your brows furrow in confusion.

“watch how she gets with ryujin,” eunchae tells you, before handing you the tampon to hide and putting her helmet back on, heading back out to the ice. you sneak in, trying to make yourself small and unnoticeable amongst some of the other girlfriends who are sitting and studying or watching from the bleachers.

megan is too focused on the ice to notice you. you can see the sweat dripping down off the tip of her nose, a testament to how hard she pushes herself every practice, how eager she is to give her all. she zips past the other girls during the drills, and you’re almost starting to feel guilty for spying on her. 

but then, as the practice comes to an end and they split into two teams to practice a quick scrimmage, you see it happen.

it’s almost lightning fast, and you’re not really good enough at hockey to know the intricacies of what it’s supposed to look like, but you can tell that megan is expecting haerin to pass something to someone else and get it to her to make a shot. 

haerin does as she’s supposed to, taking a pass from eunchae to send it over to ryujin, but ryujin is too busy blocking off the opposite wing to notice the pass. the puck slides past her, between her legs, into the waiting hands of the opposing girl, who skips past the wings and sends it straight past maya’s glove, scoring the other girls a point.

“left side wins,” dani announces easily. “good game, ladies. see you all tomorrow.”

you can tell the scrimmage is supposed to be light hearted (they only played for one point, for christ’s sakes,) but the moment dani announces that megan’s team didn’t win, you see the ginger rip her helmet off her head and throw it angrily into the plexiglass. you feel yourself jolt at the clang of the helmet against the barrier, the loud thud it makes that rings through the otherwise quiet rink.

and then you hear her voice, loud, booming, aggressive, echo through the arena.

“hey, if you’d get your head out of your ass, you’d have seen that shot, you idiot.”

ryujin instantly stands up straighter, and you see her whole body tense. “sorry meg.”

“i don’t want sorry, it want it fucking right.” megan scoops another puck from behind the box and drops it on the ice, sending it flying towards haerin and motioning to ryujin. “run it again.”

“but practice is over,” ryujin says weakly. 

megan shoots a glare at haerin, who quietly complies and recreates the pass over to ryujin. ryujin ignores the pass and stares at megan, but this just infuriates the ginger even further. she grabs yet another puck, sending it more aggressively at haerin once more.

“shin, do it the fuck again,” megan demands, her gaze hard and serious as the other girls simply watch, dumbfounded and clearly in fear. “you’re not off the ice until you fix it.”

you look to dani to do something about it, but she’s too busy talking to the other coaches to notice what megan’s doing. 

ryujin misses the pass once more, and you can see her face turning more and more red as megan drops puck after puck, insisting she go until she gets it right. the girls all stay frozen, watching the events unfold, until haerin exhaustedly sends a pass to ryujin that she finally catches, sending the pass to megan. 

megan catches the pass, and as if to prove a point, slams a shot so forcefully into the empty goal, it shoots the net backwards several feet. you feel your stomach drop at the display of anger. megan waves them off wordlessly and gets off the ice. 

eunchae’s eyes come up to meet yours from where you’re hiding on the bleachers, the girls all silently trickling off the ice. you can hear ryujin crying as she rushes past the rest of the girls into the locker room.

megan stays, and so do a few of the other girls like maya and moka and haerin, practicing a few more maneuvers with their captain, but nobody says anything among them. it makes your heart ache, remembering how she’d used to spend an extra hour here with kazuha, yunjin, lara and dani, practicing, laughing, catching up. now, the extra practice is heavier, silent and solemn, with none of the joy that used to have megan coming home rambling like an excited puppy about whatever nonsense they had gotten into between the five of them.

you wave her over, and see her brows lift in surprise as she realizes you’re there. she skates over to you, but doesn’t stop for a kiss or even a greeting. she simply gives you a look, as if to ask what you’re doing there, and you can tell by her clenched jaw that she’s still holding onto some frustration from that interaction.

“what’s that all about?” you ask, crossing your arms, motioning to the display from earlier.

“she’s just cocky.” megan shakes her head, making no attempt to apologize or explain otherwise. “but she has zero reason to be that arrogant. makes me irritated.”

“i’ve never seen you get irked like that before,” you say worriedly, your brows furrowing. “much less talk to a teammate like that. megan, you made the poor girl cry.”

“did you just un-ironically use the word irked?” she asks, ignoring the rest of your comment. you feel the irritation build up at how casually she’s treating all of this. your megan would never dream of turning the rink into something so toxic, so full of fear.

“i’m serious.” you warn her. “chill out. if your coaches thought ryujin needed the extra work, they would have made her run it over again.”

“fine, fine, i’ll apologize,” she shakes her head, reaching for her water bottle. “maybe i was too intense. sorry.”

“don’t say sorry to me,” you wave her off. 

you wait for her to finish up with the rest of the girls, but you can’t shake your discomfort at the side of megan you saw.

-

as it turns out, this isn’t the last incident megan has where her temper flares.

you’ve never once thought of her as an angry person, and considering the sport she devotes her life to, that was something you felt like you lucked out on. you somehow managed to bag the only hockey player in the world without a raging temper, your silly little girlfriend, easygoing and mellow. this lack of temper was what made her so good in her role, focused and intense, able to lock into what she needs to do without the distractions of her emotions. sure, anxiety would run rampant through her, but she’d turn that adrenaline into fuel to work smarter, never using it to snap at others.

you know it’s the stress getting to her, but after eunchae has to call you several times throughout the next few weeks, it’s starting to wear you thin, on top of already worrying you.

(what is happening to your sweet megan?)

your presence doesn’t do enough to deter her from some of the comments she makes, some of the harshness she takes out on the girls. dani’s obviously used to the verbal abuse she takes from the head coach and doesn’t do much about megan’s occasional tirade, but even if she did, you wonder what it’d take to get megan out of this headspace. you can see the way the girls look at her, eyes equally full of admiration and fear, and you never would have imagined your sweet captain would lead by fear, not in a million years.

with finals coming up, of course you’d rather focus on studying somewhere quiet, or going through flash cards with minji and marsh, but eunchae has asked you to stay just a few more practices. they’ve made it to the finals, and championship games are always a stressful time for the whole team, but if eunchae is worried, you know you should be too.

this night, she takes it too far, with haerin slipping up on a pass and accidentally sending it in the opposite direction of where the play requires. 

megan, seeing this, gets so angry that she takes her stick and snaps it over her knee, skating over wordlessly to grab another one without so much as a second look in haerin’s direction. you can see the younger girl and how her lip quivers, the way all the girls on the bench flinch as megan approaches, the way megan skates as if she has a chip on her shoulder.

practice ends, and you walk out wordlessly, deciding to wait for megan outside the building instead so you don’t end up calling her out in front of her friends.

she spots you as she steps out, showered and looking so cute with her skin pinking up against the chill of the december weather, but her eyes are dark and unreadable. you can tell she’s still internalizing the anger of the practice, still holding on to everything from the ice.

“that was too much, by the way,” you tell her, your voice stern and even. you’ve had enough of trying to guide her gently to self-correct.

“haerin keeps messing up the flow on the ice,” she defends herself, making no effort to reach for you.

“she’s new, she’s still getting the hang of it,” you remind her. “she’s just a freshman, megan, balancing the same things you did back then.”

“but i didn’t mess up when i was a freshman,” she pushes back, and your heart thuds painfully at how gruff her voice sounds. 

“megan, you’re also like a child prodigy,” you remind her gently, trying to bridge the gap by reaching for her hand. “you can’t expect everyone to be as good as you were.”

megan lets you hold her hand, but makes no effort to squeeze back. “dani expected that of me and look how i came out.”

“but you’re not dani,” you say. “and more importantly, they’re not you.”

megan shakes her head, dropping your hand to bite at her fingernails, an anxious habit of hers. “she can’t go pro making mistakes like that. none of them can.”

“megan, not everyone wants to go pro,” you remind her. “i get that you’re really good, but let people make mistakes and learn from them. i’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but you sound like a jerk.”

you realize the last part slips without your meaning to, but by the time you try to correct yourself, she’s already taken a step back, her brows furrowing.

“a jerk? seriously? for what, for trying to help everyone get to where they need to be?” she asks. “hard work is the only way to get there.”

“okay, relax ego,” you narrow your eyes at her, so, so confused where this stranger has come from. “yes, hard work is important, but so is knowing when to take a step back and just breathe. working hard shouldn’t cost you everything.”

megan dips her head, her serious eyes meeting yours in the dark of the evening, her expression cold and harsh.

“y/n, you’re not understanding. i’m the only person who can get them there. it’s me, or it’s nobody, and i’m not letting this team fail.”

“you’re not thinking straight. you’ve always been a captain that cares about building the girls up, not tearing them down when they don’t act like you.”

“if they gave half as much of a shit as i do, i wouldn’t need to set them straight,” she says frustratedly.

all you can manage to do is to take a step away from her, away from this unrecognizable stranger. you can empathize to the moon and back, but this isn’t your megan, and talking to her as if she is starts to make your stomach hurt.

“figure out what you want, and what it’s worth, because i don’t know what version of you this is,” you tell her, trying to step back, eager to put some space in between you and this stranger.

megan’s eyes are intense, nearly panicked, and for every step you take backwards, she moves forwards to keep looking in your eyes. 

“what if this is the only version of me? what then?” she pushes, her face tense.

“i don’t believe that. you can work hard and still be kind. you’ve never lost one in being the other. i don’t get why you’re letting yourself start now,” you push back, shaking your head.

“i can’t believe you’re picking a fight with me this week of all weeks,” megan groans, taking a step back and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“megan, i’ve been trying to be sensitive because i know you’re going through a lot, but it’s not just this week,” you tell her, frustrated that she’s trying to pin this on you. “it’s been the last few months.”

“i’m under a lot-” she starts, but you hold a hand up to cut her off.

“a lot of pressure, i know.” you grimace at the excuse everyone’s made for her, but you’ve had enough. you try to soften your voice, to plead with whatever part of her could rationally hear you. “i’m not asking you to give anything up, i’m just asking you to consider where your head’s at.”

her voice softens, meeting yours, and she lets out a quiet, pained breath. “i can’t lose focus.”

“i’m not trying to distract you,” you reassure her, reaching for her arm. “i just want to make sure you’re going to be okay.”

“i’ll be okay when we win and i’m drafted,” she says firmly, fixing her eyes on the ground.

“you’re losing yourself in the process,” you plead with her.

“this has always been me,” megan says quickly, finally bringing her gaze up to meet yours.

“no. you were never like this,” you push against her words, holding onto her hand by her index finger to reassure her. “i know that for a fact. you have never once been like this. when i met you, i thought you were the biggest jerk alive, and you proved me so wrong. that’s why i fell in love with you.” 

though you treasure the memory of getting to know her, something about the way you bring it up sets her off, her face hardening again as she pulls away from your grasp, yanking her arm back.

“i’m not that stupid freshman any more, and you’re not some hero who can save me again. i’m fucked if i don’t figure this out on my own. nobody’s coming to my rescue,” she spits angrily, a tone that shocks you.

“i didn’t mean it like i saved you,” you furrow your brows. “tutoring you was the best thing that ever happened to me. you’ve never been stupid—”

“i know you think i’m taking it too far but not everyone can just ace every class,” she blurts, interrupting you, taking another step away from you. “some of us don’t just get everything handed to them that easily.”

her words cut harsher than you could have ever imagined. firstly, the implication that you haven’t worked for what you’ve gotten to is extremely unfair, but even worse, it’s like your body wasn’t prepared to hear such words out of her mouth. in all your years together, megan had never once raised her voice, never once snapped at you, no matter how bad your disagreements got. she’d go quiet, take some space, and come right back ready to see things from a new perspective. never once had she insulted you— your walls have been down far enough you never thought that was a danger you’d need to protect yourself from.

“don’t talk to me like that,” you say simply, blinking back tears. “you’ve never talked to me like that.”

she’s too far gone into whatever headspace has taken over. you can see her eyes glaze over, forgetting where she is, who you are to her.

“i think-” she starts.

“megan,” your voice is sharp, a warning.

she blinks once, twice, her eyes fixing on something beyond you, unable to meet your eyes. “i think i just need a little bit to figure some things out.”

“i trusted you when you said you wouldn’t dream of hurting me,” you snap, hurriedly wiping the tears from your cheeks when you feel them fall, unsure of when they started spilling in the first place. “i don’t know where that girl went.”

you can see it shift in her eyes. the memory to her first championship game. your confession, her confession, how long ago it was and yet how fresh it felt to you.

“i’m hurting you,” she whispers, her face tensing.

“when you figure yourself out, let me know. when my megan comes back, you tell me, because i have no clue who you’ve turned into. i’ll be here.”

you turn on your heel and leave her to figure herself out. you don’t know where this leaves you, but she doesn’t chase after you, and that’s enough for now. 

-

minji and marsh are gone when you get home. you assume they’re on a date, which stings mildly as you remember all the double dates the four of you were able to fit in over the summer. you don’t need to bother minji with your drama right now, but being alone in the apartment means you need to figure something out to get megan out of your head and give her space. you’re hoping a few hours will give her what she needs to cool off, but the evening trickles by and you’re mindlessly on your phone, nothing to be heard from megan.

it’s close to midnight when you’re dozing off, startled awake by a sudden buzzing in your hand.

lara raj. she isn’t one to cold call, usually texting first, so you’re a bit worried about what this means for you.

you pick up, curious as to what she could need so late in the evening. 

“hey y/n,” she drawls, clearly trying to sound casual. “not to be super crazy or anything, but nobody’s seen megan since practice, and her location is off.”

“is she with you?” dani butts in quickly. 

you check your phone and realize megan has turned her location off for you as well, something she hasn’t done in your time dating (except for the time she tried planning a surprise birthday party for you, which she gave herself away several times with her terrible ability to keep anything secret.)

you figure she’s not planning any surprises and let out a sigh. “is she not replying?”

“no,” dani says.

“she hasn’t come home yet,” lara says simply, the concern palpable.

you take a beat before thinking back to her most likely spots. “have you checked the lake?”

“oh, duh, have we checked the lake,” you hear dani say in the background. 

“can you come with?” lara asks.

“i don’t think she wants to see me right now,” you admit. “we had a pretty bad fight.”

“a fight?” you hear dani’s disbelief palpably through the phone. “what the fuck?”

“megan?” lara clarifies, as if you could be possibly talking about anyone else.

“i don’t know who it was,” you shake your head.

“we’ll be there in a few.” dani tells you. “let’s go get her head on straight.”

they pick you up as promised just a small while later, and the three of you drive out to the park to see if your guess was right.

you can hear her before any of you see her. the clack of her stick against the ice, slapping pucks into the snowbank over and over again. you’re shivering even beneath your thick jacket and sweatpants, and you can tell megan’s been out here for a while based on how flushed her skin is, even in the dark.

“go away,” she says shortly as the three of you try to approach as peacefully as you can. lara and dani take the lead and you hang back, hoping to not make it feel like an ambush.

“baby’s grumpy?” lara teases gently, stepping out onto the ice with her, trying to keep her balance in her gripless sneakers. “c’mon meg.”

“fuck off,” megan responds curtly.

“um, who shat in your shoes?” dani arches a brow. “relax.”

“i need to focus,” she waves them off, and you realize she hasn’t spotted you yet.

“meg, don’t be rude,” lara pushes.

“you’re not the boss of me,” she snaps quickly, skating away to turn her back on them.

“i think you should go,” lara tells you quickly, eyes widening as she approaches you again.

“she doesn’t care that i’m here,” you scoff, motioning to how easily she can head off without realizing you’re there. you’ve never been mentally prepared for her cold shoulder, and being on the receiving end hurts more than you’d care to admit.

“she cares,” dani says quickly. “she’s just being stupid. i’ll prove it.”

“y/n?” megan looks up at the sound of your approach, and her eyes linger on you with something more, something like an apology in waiting. 

“apologize,” daniela says firmly.

“what?” megan gapes in surprise.

“fix it,” dani emphasizes, pulling you along towards her. you feel dani’s hand drop to your waist. 

in all your years of being friends, she’s never once tried anything with you, so the gesture feels both platonic and unusual all at once. you know she’s absolutely crazy about her girlfriend, and assume this has something to do with getting under megan’s skin, which you’re not thrilled about.

“don’t do that,” megan says quickly, and you can see it. her eyes darkening. you realize dani’s intention to set her off to prove a point.

“apologize. to lar first, and then to y/n,” dani repeats, her tone hard and bordering on aggressive. you remember this version of her, the night that she got into that fight, the way she so fearlessly stood up to those girls from the other team. you can’t believe megan’s at a point where her own best friend has to step up to her like this.

“i was never fucking scared of you,” megan snaps back, yanking dani’s hand off of you. 

she’s rough with dani, but when megan reaches for you to move you back, her hand is so gentle against your hip gently moving you to the side, and part of you relishes in the touch. you’ve missed her gentle self, the way she reaches for you with such tenderness. 

“well you fucking should be,” dani growls back. “you’re pissing me off, puppy, and off the clock, not as your coach— i’ll beat your ass.”

“dani, don’t ever put a finger on y/n again,” megan warns, and you feel yourself wish you could escape whatever is about to go down.

“you don’t get to be jealous girlfriend when you’re being the world’s biggest dick. y/n loves you, you owe her an apology,” daniela argues, kicking a puck in her direction.

“it’s fine,” you shake your head. “megan, i tried coming here to fix things, but you’re too stuck in your own head to see it. when you’re cooled off, i’ll be here. when you care about literally anything else but yourself, let me know.”

“you guys don’t care,” megan snaps, her brows tensed across her face angrily. “stop ganging up on me.”

“where is this victim complex coming from? we just want to help,” lara sighs.

but megan’s not finished, and she points her hockey stick threateningly in dani’s direction before looking to you apologetically. “and dani, don’t ever use y/n as bait again. i’m sorry they dragged you into this.”

“you’re dragging her into this with your fuckass attitude,” daniela calls her out, taking a challenging step closer. “give her a real apology.”

“megan…” you start, but megan and dani are too lost in their stand off for her to hear you.

“fuck you dani,” megan spits angrily. 

“they might have patience for you, but i don’t. fix it, now,” daniela presses back, reaching out once more for you as if it’s a threat.

in a flash, megan is rushing forward, dropping her shoulders to grip dani in a locked grasp and tackle her flat, slamming her back onto the ice.

“no, enough!” you scream quickly, leaping in to try and pull them off each other, but a soft pair of hands reach for you first.

“let them,” lara stops you, holding you back by the sleeve. “meg needs it out of her system.”

“not like this,” you grimace, trying to reach for her again, but lara simply holds a hand out to stop you.

“it’s a hockey thing,” she shakes her head. 

you watch as daniela wrestles for control over the grapple, what megan has over her in size and strength, dani more than makes up for in technique. megan’s on top for a few frightening moments before dani maneuvers them easily into a flip, quickly wiggling her way out to now straddle the taller girl. you gasp and feel your stomach drop as dani doesn’t hesitate to land one, two, three quick blows to megan’s exposed face, the ginger bringing her arms up to try and shield herself. 

megan ducks out of the way of the fourth punch and lets dani punch the ice beneath them instead, the older girl groaning as her fist makes contact with the solid, frozen wall. megan uses the quick break to land a harsh blow of her own to the side of dani’s face, throwing her quickly off of her as daniela reels from the strike to her eye.

you’ve had enough. yes, you’re mad at megan, but that doesn’t stop you from caring about her, and watching her fight some of the people she loves most pains you beyond imagination. you turn on your heel and escape to the street, quickly seeking the closest uber to come pick you up. you feel sick at what you’ve seen them all come to: megan, her friends, her team. you hope a night apart will give them all a chance to sort themselves out.

-

you’re too distressed to sleep even in your own bed, not wanting to be surrounded by the memories of megan cuddling you or the pictures of her you have scattered throughout your room. you come home and fall asleep on the couch in the living room, hoping you’ll wake up to some sort of clarity. 

no texts from megan, a missed call from daniela, 3 missed messages from lara.

you bite back the knot in your stomach and close your eyes, deciding you’ll ditch class today to focus on studying.

you sleep through the morning and wake to the smell of breakfast from the kitchen, the sound of the tv kicking on with no concern for your sleeping body. leave it to minji to play animal crossing at full volume even when you’re clearly trying to sleep.

“you’re such a dick, dude,” you groan as she sits next to you on the couch, unphased by your attempts to rest.

“good morning,” minji pokes your cheek. “it’s noon, by the way.”

“what do you want?” you roll your eyes, trying to turn the opposite direction.

“haven’t seen you sleep out here since we moved in,” she observes, eyes focused on the tv the whole time as she assesses the status of her island. “you good? where’s puckhead?”

“she’s been busy,” you say simply, not exactly eager to relive the events of last night.

“ah,” minji says simply. “too busy to say hi to her friends?”

“too busy to be nice to her girlfriend,” you say, hoping it’s enough.

“pouting doesn’t suit you, it’s gross,” minji grimaces. 

“be nice,” marsh yells out from the kitchen, always so quick to run to your rescue. 

“what are you trying to get at?” you wrinkle your nose at minji.

she shrugs, taking a hit from her pen as she keeps her gaze steady on the screen. “megan is a massive loser, yes—”

“minji,” marsh warns once more, as if it’s the only thing she’s capable of doing. “be nice!”

“i am best friends with the most emotionally incompetent person in the world,” you groan, trying to hide your face behind a random throw pillow.

“listen to me, i’m cooking or whatever,” minji says irritatedly. you find it hard to believe that she’s worth listening to: your half-high roommate, in her spiderman underwear and an old oversized t shirt, acting like she’s some oracle. but you’re sort of out of options, and minji’s put the controller down, so at this point you might as well hear her out. “megan is a loser, because she’s scared of a lot. and when she’s not being a loser, she’s acting not-scared, but what are the chances of her still being scared?”

“i know who megan is,” you tell minji, hoping she gets to her point sooner rather than later.

“you’ve never seen her too scared to find a solution. this might be it,” she says simply, staring into your eyes with her own serious ones. “she might be pushing you away while she thrashes around, ‘cause she’s never figured out how to navigate hard shit around others. she’s always had someone to fall back on, now she’s the fallback.”

“i know all this,” you say as if it’s obvious.

“but does she know that you know all this, or are you still just bagging on her for not having it figured out the way you do?” she asks, and the weight of her words hits you. “are you judging her for getting it wrong, when she’s never been taught how to get it right for something this serious?”

“thank you,” you whisper quietly under your breath, realizing this is the wakeup call you needed. you sit up and check the calendar— megan’s schedule is packed to the brim until her game at 6. 

her final championship game of her college career.

“you wouldn’t be with her if it weren’t for me.” minji says, self-satisfied smirk on her lips as she goes back to playing her game. “think of that next time you insult me.”

“you’re not that emotionally constipated after all,” you beam, wrapping her into a quick hug. even though she simply sits there and grunts, you know your roommate has your back.

“told you she could be nice,” marsh laughs from the kitchen, coming out to offer you a smoothie she’s put together. “we can drive you to the game later, if we’re still invited.”

“of course you guys are,” you reassure her. “i wouldn’t be with megan if it weren’t for minji.”

“and i wouldn’t be with minji if it weren’t for megan,” danielle beams. “we all sort of owe each other, in a weird square sort of way.”

“meg loves all things weird,” you smile. 

-

the first championship game you ever came to, you made it late. every game since then, you’ve been sure to show up at least an hour early, seated in front of the player box, where megan’s tickets get you the best seats in the whole arena, and this time will be no different. 

you still remember how excited she got when you custom ordered a university jersey with her last name, especially since college sports don’t allow selling custom merch. wearing your one-of-one “skiendiel” jersey seems fitting.

you think to text her and see if you can steal her away for a second, but before you can do anything, you spot the flash of ginger wandering out of the locker room. you can see the paleness in her face, the way her lip is bright red from how hard she’s been chewing it, the clear tells of how unwell she’s feeling. your heart aches for her, and before you can help it, you’re barrelling towards her, not caring where she might possibly need to be right now.

you collide into her with enough force to push her backwards, but she’s steady enough on her feet to take the hit and keep you both standing. your arms wrap around her and you’re breathing her in, her comforting scent, her familiar warmth, her strength and her softness all at once.

she melts into you as soon as you grip into her, pressing her nose into the top of your head as her arms wrap even tighter around you. the hug feels so, so comforting, leaving so much in the air lingering without causing either of you to suffer for a moment longer.

“you still came?” she asks in disbelief, those big eyes taking you in as she moves to take a step backwards and eye you over. you can see her seriousness melt away as she takes you in, the jersey, your presence, your genuine excitement to see her. 

“i haven’t missed a championship game since i met you,” you remind her, offering a gentle smile as a peace offering. “sure as hell wasn’t going to miss your very last one.”

megan opens her mouth to say something, but she pauses, her face twisting into something pained. you can tell she’s remembering the events of the night before. you take her in, realizing there’s some bruising around her cheekbone from her fight with daniela.

“i hurt you,” she says simply, clamping her eyes shut with a grimace.

“well i love you, and i have for a long time, and i think i know you pretty well. i don’t think you meant to hurt me.” you offer quietly, reaching for her hand. “i think my megan is in there still, just scared.”

“i’m fucking terrified.” you finally hear her admit it, and you look down to realize her hands are shaking. “of everything. this game, my career, our future.”

“you don’t have to be,” you reassure her, trying to reach out to steady her hand.

“i don’t have anything else going for me,” she breathes out, trying to even out her nerves. “you don’t understand.”

“i don’t see it that way,” you push back gently.

“i’m going to go play this game, and then i’m going to beg for forgiveness for being the worst girlfriend ever and a shit communicator.” she quickly takes both your hands in hers, bringing them up to her chest. you can feel her racing pulse against your palms, thudding against her ribs. “and if you’re still mad at me, i totally get it and i’ll go jump off a bridge asap.”

“shut up,” you laugh, and she breaks out into a smile that makes you feel like everything might just end up being okay.

“i’ll keep apologizing as a ghost, i’m serious,” she’s still sticking to the bit, but you can see her eyes start to tear up. “i messed up so bad. i’m really sorry.”

“go do what you do best,” you reach up to kiss her nose, careful to avoid the bruising. “i’ll be here, cheering you on like always.”

“i don’t want this to be the only thing i do best. i want to be a good friend, and a good girlfriend, and a good person,” she says determinedly.

“i love you,” you reassure her.

“nice,” she beams, and you laugh at how only she could make a tender moment so, so stupid.

“at least say like, samesies or some shit,” you beg.

“will you accept ditto?” she asks.

“if i have to,” you wrinkle your nose.

“cool then, ditto,” she grins, reaching down to press a gentle, pleading kiss against your lips. “i love you a lot, y/n. i’m sorry again.”

“you got this,” you reassure her once more, and you can hear the calls of the coaches beckoning her over. 

you wave her goodbye and find your seats again, busying yourself debriefing minji and her girlfriend, shooting a text to lara to let her know the resolution you’ve reached.

the two teams make it onto the ice and you spot the ginger braids peeking out from beneath the helmet, the way megan waves to the entire arena for what will be the last time in her college career. you can see her taking it in, deciding what she’s going to make of tonight, who she’s choosing to be right now. 

you spot dani coming out with the rest of the coaches, sporting a particularly gnarly black eye, no doubt courtesy of your girlfriend. she seems tense, but as soon as she spots you in the stands and glances back at megan, who is simply smiling at you, she nods approvingly and claps to get the team’s attention. they have a team huddle, and you can see the nervous eyes of so many of the newer girls darting around as the cheers from the arena get louder and louder, announcing the impending drop of the puck for the face-off.

eunchae leads them in a chant, and megan sends them off with the team battle shout, each of them slamming their gloves into the helmet of the girl next to them, a tradition dani had started with megan as a sophomore. it’s so cool to see them hyping themselves up, turning their nerves into pure adrenaline, and you see megan lock into her mindset of pure focus as she heads onto the face-off with a look of sheer determination.

the puck drops and she’s off like lightning, the puck nearly invisible with how quick she wields it. you look out to the ice, seeing the new faces, the way things have changed. eunchae stays in the back, holding down the defenseman’s position, but instead of lara, maya guards the goal protectively. instead of yunjin covering defense with eunchae, now it’s moka, looking determinedly out across the ice. instead of kazuha and dani working together to move the offense back and forth in their favor, like clockwork, like mirror images, it’s ryujin and haerin, a bit more scattered, but still quick, still eager, still lightning fast on the ice to pressure their offense.

and the anchor of the team, megan as center, carrying the weight of the team on her shoulders. it’s up to her to score, to call plays, to navigate traps, to see holes in the defense and predict where the offense is going to be. it’s her job to protect maya as the goalie from ever having to see the puck, to trust that moka and eunchae know what they’re doing and can cover the back end of the ice on defense, it’s her job to read ryujin’s movements and see where haerin is trying to take them, to weave between the two of them and catch every pass or assist every shot they try to make. 

hockey is the thing you almost lost your megan to, but watching her on the ice, the way she seems to almost float effortlessly and maneuver the puck with insane expertise, reminds you exactly why she’s poured all she has into this sport— to be the best, nothing less.

you stay on your feet for the entirety of the game, eagerly watching each stolen pass or shot taken. even minji, seated next to you, and often unbothered by most sporting events, seems moved to cheer for megan every time the ginger steals another pass or tries to move into a shooting position.

the game is tense. the first period ends in a drought, a simple 0-0 that sets the tone for an even more aggressive 2nd period, the other team ramping up their efforts to blitz maya in the goal with a more aggressive offense. 

megan, who picks up on this immediately, calls out to eunchae, and eunchae immediately compensates by playing harsher on the incoming offense, clearly indicating that she will not hesitate to protect her goalie at all costs. you can see maya’s confidence grow with each protective shot cut off by eunchae, the way moka eventually finds her stride and manages to cut off several incoming attempts, shooting them straight back up the ice at megan. 

you’ve never been part of a team like that, but you can tell that the girls are finding their groove, megan’s leadership doing more than just keeping them from losing, but building their synergy, the trust between all of them. you see an opposing offense come in, slipping past ryujin, but moka is quick to call out to maya, who in her increasing confidence, is all too quick to catch the puck before it can even try to hit the net.

megan doesn’t take a chance to let her guard down, but she pumps her fist excitedly at the save, yelling out something to the defense line that has moka beaming and maya matching her smile. 

eunchae catches your eye by the end of the second period, sending you a thumbs up. you feel your chest lighten. you see it in the way they move, in the way megan keeps nodding back at all of them, orchestrating them on the ice, hearing the coach’s directions and implementing them as she sees fit. the joy in her eyes is back. she’s truly, sincerely enjoying herself for what looks like the first time all season.

0-0 in the final period is not a good sign for either team. you know megan is going to ramp up her attacks. she’s described her playstyle as more opportunistic before— whereas kazuha was conservative, and daniela had the stamina to be relentless, megan has always described wanting to play smarter, to find holes and exploit them instead of waiting for clarity or rushing to catch the defense off guard. any other players would start to panic, maybe play sloppy, but megan is a threat because she can wait, and she can watch, and be quick enough to strike without hesitation.

you can see it in the eyes of the other team’s girls, trying to goad her into picking a fight with one of them. they’re getting rougher with her, slamming her around more aggressively than her position would ever call for, even when she doesn’t have the puck. 

but megan, more determined than ever, keeps her gaze laser focused on exactly where she needs to be.

the clock trickles down, and even though their defense has done an amazing job of preventing any shots, you know it’s up to megan and the offense to get a score up on the board. they wrestle over the pick over and over, the push of both teams trying to get up on the other. you watch in eager anticipation as the game risks going into overtime, the minutes trickling down into the very end of the game without a single score between the two of them.

the other team gets sloppy in one of their attempted scores and you see megan lock in on the mistake. eunchae blocks the shot and their full team is pushed too far up, the pass she sends to megan leaving the center wide open to take an easy shot. it’s obvious, painfully so, that this is it. you feel the stadium pause with baited breath as the puck makes it into megan’s possession, her feet making quick work of moving her halfway up the rink to close the gap in seconds.

megan looks at the goal, then back at the girls. a split second decision. you know it’s her shot to take, wide open and easy enough for her to send.

you see something flash over her features, the vision of her future in front of her very eyes.

in a move that shocks even you, she sends the puck forward, flying straight to haerin. 

haerin freezes, handling the puck for a brief moment before realizing the opening she has. she’s waited a bit too long, by the time she takes the shot, the other team’s defense is already swarming in on her.

the next 20 seconds are a blur. the opposing team gains possession of the puck and megan does everything in her power to chase the other center out of their box, but they’re too late. the opposing offense makes quick work of overwhelming eunchae and moka, leaving a gap for their center to take a shot. maya, despite her speed, isn’t fast enough to block the shot, and you hear the buzz of the shot making it in. seconds trickle by, and the final buzzer goes off to announce the end of the final period.

you look at the finishing score. 0-1.

you hold your breath, spotting the girls all dumbfoundedly shaking hands with the other team as they celebrate their victory, and making their way off the ice. even the coaches are in silence, and you can see megan’s face, hard and stony, as she takes her helmet off her head.

the team crams into the box, all looking expectantly to their captain. you’re half worried she’ll erupt, but you trust her. you walk up to the box and watch their interaction through the glass.

she breaks out into a gentle, almost goofy smile. she looks like a little kid, good naturedly taking the loss on the chin.

“good game,” megan nods, and the girls all seem to take a breath of relief at her simple words.

“i cost us the shot.” you hear haerin’s voice pierce through the air, quaking angrily. the forward throws her stick onto the ground, her face tensing. “why didn’t you just take it, megan? you would have made it.”

“you had just as much chance of making it as i did,” megan says firmly.

“i lost us the game,” haerin’s eyes water.

“i believed in you, it’s okay.” megan pulls her glove off with her teeth, reaching her bare hand to grab haerin by the back of the neck and pull her closer, forcing her to look up at the captain. haerin is still biting back tears, but megan nods reassuringly. “it’s not your fault they made their own shot. kang, you’ll make your shot next year.”

“next year you won’t be here,” haerin pushes back anxiously.

“i was here this year and we didn’t win. i’m not what matters. i’m just glad i had an amazing time playing with all of you,” she smiles once more. “thanks for the kick ass game, guys.”

maya is the first to break out into tears, tackling megan into a giant hug that the rest of the girls swarm into immediately. 

“we’ll make the shot next year,” ryujin promises, between sobs.

“i’ll kill someone to make sure they don’t ever get a point over on us again,” moka threatens, crying into megan’s shoulder.

“you’re missing the point,” megan glares at the underclassmen, laughing as the girls take it too far. eunchae, still panting from the game, beams back at her.

“thanks for thinking i could do it, cap,” haerin tells her, her voice soft. “i’ll make sure it happens next year.” 

daniela having watched the whole thing, shoos the girls to break up their huddle and eyes megan, before patting her on the back.

“that’s what a captain does,” she says simply, approvingly. “good call, meg.”

megan wrinkles her nose sheepishly at the assistant coach, noting the bruise she’s sporting. “sorry for the black eye, dani.”

“that was you?” eunchae asks in disbelief, but the two friends ignore her.

“i’m just sorry i didn’t break your nose. don’t ever piss me off like that again, ‘cause i’ll do real damage next time, alright meiyok?” dani threatens, but instantly hooks megan by the neck and presses a kiss into her head. “i think someone wants to talk to you.”

dani motions to you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, megan’s eyes light up as she catches sight of you.

years ago, the older girls would tease her and make kissy noises when you’d come up to her after a game. now, megan’s respected, the leader figure, and the girls all scatter to give you guys some space as she takes off what she can of her gear before making it out of the box and coming up to you.

“what was that?” you ask, curious into her mindset about giving the pass to haerin. she could have taken the shot and clinched the win to no-one’s criticism, so you’re truly curious what her mindset was for this call.

“dani always trusted me to make shots. she gave almost all her shots to me by the middle of my first season. that’s what gave me the confidence to try, and to get good, and to feel like i could do it and keep up with her.” she explains. “and you trusted me enough to give me a chance. that’s what helped me branch out, and know i was capable. i love teams, i love improving, i love the trust. not winning. i’m sorry i lost sight of that.”

you smile and wrap your arms around her neck. you see it now— megan gives up her investment in herself to invest in the future for these girls, the thing she truly believes in, the thing that made her the perfect captain. she gives up the win to instill the love of the sport in the next generation.

“i have a lot to make right to you,” she continues, her hands shaky as they wrap around your waist, and you feel so, so at home in her embrace. “i have a lot to make up for.”

“i missed you,” you shake your head, just grateful to have her back. the rest will easily fit into place.

“i missed you too.” she hums, pressing her forehead against yours. “never letting that out of sight again. i’m sorry.”

you decide she’s done enough apologizing. you scoop her chin into your hand and melt into a kiss, the sweat from her nose dripping onto you, but you don’t mind. she wraps her arms even tighter around your waist and kisses you back so eagerly it makes your heart thud.

“i was crazy about you then, i’m still crazy about you now,” she tells you, lifting you and spinning you around. “probably gonna be crazy about you forever.”

you laugh and hug her even tighter. the whole thing feels like a win in your book. 

“you know what?” you beam. 

“what?” she grins back at you curiously.

“ditto.”

-

the next morning, megan is giving her statements about their loss in the conference room, but she isn’t solemn or sullen about it. she’s bright-eyed, eager, like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. 

after the coach announces eunchae as next year’s captain (the department clearly learning their lesson about letting the captains make such an announcement) there’s a quick question from one of the reporters to megan about her future in the wnhl and her plans to pursue hockey.

“hockey gave me everything, and i gave it everything,” she says simply, nothing more, nothing less. she flashes a quick, nervous smile, and it’s perfect for her, the balance of sincere and dorky that made you fall for her in the first place.

“what’s next for you?” another reporter asks, trying to goad her into opening up further about her prospects.

“whatever is next, i’ll give it 100%,” megan says carefully. “and i’ll be grateful, and i’ll remember what matters to me. the love of the game, nothing else.”

she nods awkwardly and excuses herself from the table, letting dani and the head coach take over the rest of the questions about what they plan to do without their star player.

you greet megan with a kiss on the cheek, and she returns the gesture by pressing a kiss into the top of your head.

“what’s really next?” you ask, motioning to the google calendar you share that she hasn’t updated for the day.

“uh, will you help me study for finals?” she asks, almost shyly, and you can almost see it play back. your first class together, how awkward she was asking for your notes. it makes your heart flip inside your chest.

“no more interviews?” you question.

“coach and dani can do them together. i need to focus on right now, and right now is a bitchass english final due in 48 hours that my girlfriend would know exactly how to study for,” megan informs you, and you laugh at her determination.

the two of you escape hand in hand out of the building and start making your way towards the library to get a head start on preparing for finals.

you catch her staring at you as you walk, peering out of the corner of her eye. her cheeks flush as she realizes she’s been spotted, and she tries distracting you instead by taking off her letterman jacket and insisting on placing it over your shoulders.

“what?” you question, accepting the jacket without protest.

“you are really so pretty,” megan breathes out nervously. 

“thank you,” you smile back at her. those big brown eyes, her button nose, her dimples. “you’re so fucking cute.”

“you make me nervous,” she mumbles quietly.

“still?” you ask in disbelief.

“always have,” she nods, and the way she breathes out makes you feel like she’s finally able to start thinking about what she wants, instead of what she’s afraid of. “you have from the start.”

-

finals are grueling, but you both manage to pass all your exams, and spend your winter break making up for lost time now that the season is over. your anniversary quickly approaches, and megan ditches off-season practice where she’s supposed to be training eunchae in order to spend the whole day with you.

(it’s her first time ever ditching practice since starting the sport, and you don’t take it lightly.)

she’s losing pitifully to you in the snowball fight you’re currently halfway through, and it doesn’t escape you that she’d put her phone on do not disturb in order to focus on you. the last time you two were at the lake, it was her fight with dani, and the time before that, your date that had gotten cut short, so this date feels like it’s making up for all the terrible experiences you’d previously shared.

and what’s best, is that megan is perfectly fine with just playing in the snow, no longer insisting on teaching you how to skate.

her phone falls out of her pocket as she tries packing another snowball to toss at you, and you notice that even through dnd, her mom has called her at least four times since your date has started. megan’s mom is close to megan, but not exactly the clingy type, so this raises a flag for you.

“why is your mom blowing you up?” you ask, pointing to your phone as she picks it up out of the snow. “everything okay?”

“i’m not interrupting another date to take a stupid phone call,” she furrows her brow, preparing to tuck it back into her jacket.

“it’s your mom, meg,” you reassure her, laughing at her determination to be better. “it’d be different if it was coach.”

“fine,” she grumbles.

she takes the phone off and brings it to her ear, a quick greeting in cantonese before you hear her mom rambling something at a million miles an hour. you grin and tackle her backwards into a snowbank, the two of you sinking into the powder with a laugh as you simply rest on top of her while she keeps chatting away with her mom. 

it seems like the usual check in until you see megan’s face change, her features widening, her skin going pale. you almost insist that she put it on speaker before she quickly hangs up. you realize her hands are shaking as they slip the phone back into her pocket.

“you know how my mom does all my management stuff?” she starts, voice wobbly.

“loser,” you laugh, realizing that megan has kept all her management as her mom’s job instead of hiring a real agent. “but continue.”

she gives you a blank stare, her mind clearly not fully there following the phone call.

“they want me for the olympic women’s hockey team,” she says simply, and you feel your jaw drop.

“holy shit, megan,” you gasp.

“the winter olympics are in london next year,” she tells you, and the two of you connect the dots at the exact same time. “you’ll be halfway through your program.”

“that’s convenient,” you beam.

“olympic players always go back in the draft,” megan tells you, her words picking up in pace, her voice growing more and more excited. “i’ll take a month or two off to sight see, and then i’ll go to the combine for drafting. if i’m lucky, a team will pick me up as soon as i’m done.”

“megan, that’s amazing,” you bury your face into her neck to wrap her in a tight hug. “your dream is coming true.”

“my dream isn’t hockey,” she corrects you quickly, running a hand through your hair. “it’s just a future where i’m happy. think you’ll be part of it?”

“wherever you get drafted i’ll go with you,” you nod reassuringly. the smile she gives you back is worth everything to you.

she scoops up a pile of snow and shoves it in your face. you scream with laugher and scoop up one to smash right back into her nose, watching as she tries to wiggle herself out from under you and shove you further into the snowbank.

-

the semester is grueling, but you make it through in one piece, and so does megan. graduation rolls around before you even realize it, and your time as college students is quickly coming to an end. 

at the graduation, you and megan have to split up as you separate into your different majors and departments, but she presses a kiss to your forehead before you depart. 

“i’ll be the loudest cheer in the room,” she promises, smiling at you. you can’t help but admire how cute she looks in her cap and gown. the way the cap just slightly brushes her eyebrows reminds you of how low she used to wear her beanies, and how she still sometimes will.

you shuffle into line and take inventory of all your friends from the year, all the things this university has given you. sophia in the crowd next to your family, minji and danielle in their own caps and gowns waving from their section in the graduation lineup. you know daniela and lara are cheering you on from their spot with megan’s family.

the department heads read off the names, and you feel your ears perk up as they approach the name of the ginger that had come out of nowhere your freshman year and changed everything for you.

“megan skiendiel.”

you hear an air horn go off, followed by another, and the whole arena erupts into an echo of cheers. you can see from the crowd where several people have printed up blow up heads and are waving them around. you can make out some of the newer girls and realize nearly 2 full rows of seats are taken up by the entire women’s hockey team, the babies who’d follow megan anywhere even with all they’ve been through. they wave the blow up heads wildly around, cheering at the top of their lungs as if they’re at a game and not at some respectable academic demonstration.

you see megan’s cheeks flush as soon as she spots the stupid display, no doubt daniela and lara’s idea. she takes her degree and makes her way off stage.

your department comes next, and you beam as you take to the stage.

“y/n y/ln, graduating magna cum laude.”

you can hear the uproar from your loved ones, but one voice is cheering longer and louder than all the rest. you look down at the graduates and see megan with her hands cupped around her mouth, cheering as loudly as possible. you see her eyes shining brightly. she’s usually not a huge fan of bringing attention to herself, but your stupid, goofy megan doesn’t stop cheering the whole time you’re on stage.

your families join after the ceremony into one giant group, made even more chaotic by the fact that the entire women’s hockey team is eagerly trying to fit into the picture as well.

megan smiles at you, and takes your hand in hers. in that exact moment, you can’t picture anything you’d ever want more than this.

-

your phone background is a countdown of how many days are left until megan lands. it’s been a grueling 4 months without her, but she’ll be in your city prepping for the olympics in no time at all. plus, she’s sent weekly care packages, and her twice daily facetimes make it a little more bearable. 

you admire your desk, the way your life has all fallen into place. 

on your bulletin board, pictures of your life: you, minji, and marsh, all posing at one of megan’s games your junior year. you and megan celebrating her second championship game win. you and megan on the beach when she had brought you to hawaii to meet her family the summer after sophomore year. a photo of the two of you at the surprise party the underclassmen had planned just before summer ended. one of you and sophia at the renaissance fair. megan cheering you on at your senior capstone presentation. the photo of everyone from graduation. one of the first photos you had ever taken of her, a picture from freshman year during one of your many study sessions.

your hands unpack the envelope that megan had saved for you specifically. the magazine drops into your hands, and the familiar eyes look back up at you from the photo on the cover. 

you hold the magazine up and look up proudly at the cover. the sullivan award, amateur athlete of the year: megan skiendiel. 

megan. your megan, as she’s always been.