#thank you this was such a fun idea to explore in my head! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coolwyous · 2 months ago

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┈─★ 𝘪'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 .

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

ˎˊ˗ ❄️ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🔓୭˚. ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

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

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

➴ you might want to tune in...: hurt (250 remix) - newjeans

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

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

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

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

you cross your arms. “dining hall?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i do,” she nods.

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

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

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

“new prospect?” someone asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“god damn,” the blonde shakes her head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“throws off incoming offense,” your dad responds.

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

“megan’s fast but not—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“and?” you press.

“she’s the captain of their team.”

“and?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“dani.”

“oh, definitely daniela.”

“daniela avanzini.”

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

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

you stare at the comments.

oh i get it

HI DANIELA (louder than the rest)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“they cut me off when i was 18.”

“why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you laugh. “i have that too.”

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

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

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

you breathe out softly, trying to connect the dots.

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

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

“are they?” she wrinkles her nose.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“thank you for driving me.”

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

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

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

you have a crush on daniela avanzini.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ending score: 3-1.

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

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

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

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

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

“to be a punching bag?”

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

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

“because it was her call.”

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

“then hopefully avanzini finds it worth it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“bad idea,” she says quickly.

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

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

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

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

“yeah, busy avoiding me,” you push.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what if i like pissing you off?”

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

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

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

“i like the attention,” she reiterates.

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

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

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

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

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

“says literally everyone,” she laughs lowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“no girlfriend tonight?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

or rather, who.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“nice shot, kazuha.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hm, i can tell.” you say back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“just don’t play games with me,” you growl. “do what you want, and i will too.”

“it sounds like you want me,” she grins, leaning in so that your foreheads are almost touching.

“you think everyone wants you,” you roll your eyes, but your hands are already pulling at her waistband to pull her close. something about the fresh layer of sweat slicking her baby hairs to her neck and forehead is infuriatingly attractive to you.

“that’s ‘cause they do,” she hums back easily.

“you look at every reflective surface you walk past.” you shake your head. “you’re obsessed with yourself.”

“you’ve seen what i can do, i think you get it.” she leans down, experimentally letting her lips brush against your neck. “i’m pretty easy to be obsessed with.”

you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of a single word more, but the proximity between you two and the craving inside your bones takes over. she’s sweeping you up in one easy motion, your lips colliding with bruising force, and you lose sight of whatever it was you two were fighting about. when dani’s hands take over, everything you hated her for disappears from your mind, and all you focus on is losing your fingers in those curls as she pulls you into the showers with her.

you told yourself you wouldn’t get involved with anything dangerous at this new university– no bad influences, no friends that did illegal things, no risky behavior that can make things worse for you when you’re trying to start over. but when you made this list, you never considered that you’d get addicted to hooking up with the very hot, very irritating, very bad-for-you hockey team captain that already makes your dad’s life a living hell.

and it’s confusing, to say the least. she ignores and avoids you through the day, and then stays fixated watching you throughout an entire practice. she can go hours without texting you back but as soon as you post that you’re out with yunjin and chaewon, she’s climbing up the stupid tree in your yard to tap on your window and sneak in as if she hadn’t been radio silent the whole day.

you know it’s just a hookup, and nothing more, but something about how she overdoes it with ignoring you makes it even weirder when you two are rushing to see each other, desperately making up for the time spent apart. you won’t complain: between school, practice, friends, and now daniela keeping you busy, you don’t even have a chance to think about getting into anything else.

“i know what you’re doing,” she warns you one night after sneaking into your room again. she pushes you off her lap when you’ve spent a little too much time with your lips on one spot on her neck.

“feeling possessive,” you hum, running your fingers through her curls, admiring your work against her soft skin.

“you’re fucking crazy,” dani groans, but you catch the way she grins looking at herself in her phone. “it’s getting late, i should go.”

some would even call it romantic the way she steals lara’s car to come park it up the street and sneak into your room on the nights you can’t spend with her at her place. you guys are quiet enough to make sure nobody else hears, and you’ll admit that the sneaking around part makes things so, so much more fun.

“just leave before my dad wakes up,” you tell her, pulling her down by the neck to plant another kiss against her jaw.

“i’m only gonna spend the night in your room once you specifically ask me to,” she pushes you away and smirks at you playfully. “i’ll be around if you need me.”

“whatever.” you roll your eyes and turn to pull up your phone. “not gonna beg.”

“someone else will,” she says back, but not before jumping on the bed to plant a forceful, dizzying kiss on your lips. “bye, y/n.”

you want to rip your hair out, but it doesn’t make your heart thud any less watching her climb down and out of your bedroom window. you roll your eyes as she stops, looks up at you, and does another one of her stupid backflips right on your front lawn before disappearing into the night.

dani shows up to practice the next day wearing every single hickey you gave her on full display. she didn’t even try to cover them up. you guys lock eyes briefly and you can’t tell if she’s playing a mind game with you, or is just trying to play with fire and test your limits. you won’t give her the satisfaction though– part of you likes knowing the secret stays between you two.

“ah, heartbreaker dani strikes again. another sorority girl?” kazuha arches a brow, shoving playfully into daniela’s shoulder. lara shakes her head laughing and follows onto the ice.

nevermind. you feel your blood boil. maybe next time you should leave your initials.

your dad makes dani get off the ice and go put on a neck guard to stop distracting everyone. dani rolls her eyes but does so begrudgingly. your eyes meet as she hops off the ice and towards her bag.

“are they really a distraction?” she asks you casually.

“extremely.” you say, trying to match her non-chalance. “tell your girl toy to stop trying so hard next time.”

“she’s got a mind of her own,” she shakes her head, eyes lighting up with something unholy. “but i’ll do my best.”

the weeks pass and you guys don’t discuss the nature of your arrangement, but you both know it’s critical to keep it under wraps. your dad is thrilled that you’re spending so much time at lara’s, and lara and megan are too busy with their own things to notice dani either disappearing all night or letting you in.

your phone buzzes in the middle of homework and you spot the number, saved simply as “captain.”

come over

say please

i don’t beg but i’ll make sure you do so, again, come over

you roll your eyes at how easily you’re convinced.

“taking the car and going to lara’s,” you call out to your house, and your dad calls back in approval from the other room.

your stomach hasn’t quite stopped flipping when you pull into the trio’s driveway. daniela is already in the doorway, looking stupidly attractive in her oversized hoodie and baggy shorts, and you two nearly don’t make it to her room before she already has her hands on you, pulling you in.

you two fall back onto the bed and you’re straddling her much too quickly to call it casual. she pulls at your top and you try to regain some of your dignity by poking fun at her.

“wasn’t i just here this morning? so eager to have me back so soon,” you tease.

“you can stop showing up whenever, you know,” she bites back, putting her hands over yours to guide them to her hoodie. you take the hint and pull her hoodie off over her head, biting your lip in eager anticipation.

“you’d miss me too much,” you clip back easily. she smirks and reaches up from beneath you to capture your lips with hers, her fingers hooking into your waistband to start sliding your pants down your thighs. you know the motions by now and start to lean up to let her get them off from your ankles.

that is, until you hear the door swing open.

“have you seen my bite guard? i left it in the–” megan starts, but immediately pivots into a half- scream, hands flying up to cover her eyes. “oh, bro, jesus christ–”

oh fuck.

you and dani move equally fast to push off each other. you truly had convinced yourself that you two had mastered the whole sneaking around thing, so you’re not exactly prepared for whatever may come next. the dread sets in immediately. you can trust daniela, and you can trust yourself, but the last thing you need is someone else involved.

“you can’t tell my dad,” you blurt out immediately.

“oh my fucking god, not coach,” megan panics. “he’s going to kill me if he finds out.”

“why would he kill you?” dani squints at the younger girl.

“bro, i’m letting this happen.” megan brings an open palm to her forehead, beginning to pace around daniela’s room. “i’m complexit, or whatever.”

“complicit,” dani corrects quickly

megan ignores the correction and keeps rambling. “no, this is so bad. i’m basically putting the strap in your hand.”

“okay, meg, please, too far,” you groan, and daniela lets out a loud hollering laugh.

“i’m going to die and i literally just barely beat the virgin allegations,” she gasps.

you shake your head and give a look to daniela. is she always this neurotic?

“meg, please, go like, take some deep breaths over there. we’ll stop if it’s freaking you out that bad,” daniela tries to soothe her, pointing out the door.

“how long?” the ginger asks.

“oh my god bro, we’ve only fucked like, the past month.”

megan’s dark puppy eyes go wide, honing in on you. “a month is more than zero. i was hoping you would say zero.”

“are you asking for an apology?” you try to ask, desperate to make sense of why exactly she’s panicking.

daniela groans and finally gets out of the bed, tossing a hoodie over herself and handing you your pants back. she grabs megan by the back of her neck and waves over to you. “we’re gonna go.”

“where?” you question. it’s nearly 10pm and the tail end of a freezing october.

“where else? the lake, duh. she needs to hit the ice to calm down. we’ll be back.” she groans and grabs a few sticks tucked away in the corner of her room, before she drags the ginger out the door and shuts it behind them.

you let your head fall backwards onto dani’s pillow and stare at the ceiling, the dread sinking in.

you’re not quite sure when you dozed off, but you’re woken up to the sound of the door creaking back open. the familiar curls enter the room and dani comes to kneel in front of the bed, eye to eye with you. the gesture is sweet, almost tender, as if she’s trying to be close without waking you.

“i didn’t think you’d still be here.” she tells you quietly, before gently poking at your cheek. “awake?”

“i told my dad i was sleeping over at lara’s and he has my location. i can’t just leave my phone here,” you groan groggily at her. “meg okay?”

“she’ll be fine. she won’t say anything. believe it or not, we can keep secrets surprisingly well. ask lara what we pulled for her girlfriend last year.” she sits on the edge of the bed. “you stayed?”

“does me being here ruin your plans somehow?” you ask, confused about what she expected.

“i mean, no, i’m going to a party anyways.” she shrugs, her demeanor hardening. “might bring someone back. if you don’t want the couch, then you might want to room with lar.”

“you’re a fucking joke,” you blurt at her, sitting up to meet her eye-level. “always so irritating.”

“what happened to feeling possessive?” she arches a brow playfully.

“no, shut up dani. tell me something– why were you so much nicer to me before we started hooking up?” you question, narrowing your eyes at her. “you weren’t this big of a dick until the first time. i didn’t even think you were capable of being this big of a piece of shit.”

“i didn’t know you noticed how i treated you before,” she says simply, crossing her arms over her chest and giving you a curious look. “you cared about that?”

you take a second before ripping her a new one and read into her implication. it really does make sense in her head that if you only wanted her for sex, there was no need to keep up the dynamic from before.

is this the root of all this confusion? is daniela just playing a role she thinks you assigned to her?

“tell me something about you,” you blurt out.

she un-crosses her arms and arches a brow in confusion. “like?”

“anything. what’s your favorite color?”

“blue.” she pauses for a second. “yours?”

“blue,” you repeat, and she smiles at the coincidence.

“do you miss cheer?” she asks quickly, as if to not let the silence take over.

“you remember that i did that?”

“yeah,” she says simply, before fishing in the pocket of her hoodie for a protein bar she had clearly just been eating. “do you want a bite? did you eat while i was gone?”

you feel rattled by her sudden change in demeanor. where did the fuckboy from 5 minutes ago disappear to?

“where is all this coming from?” you ask.

“if you wanted to be friends, you just had to say so.” she seems so casual about it, the flip, but you won’t question it further. this feels like the dani you met in the car, that first time alone. the sincere, unabashed one you got so inexplicably hooked on, and you want to make the most of it while she’s still showing you that girl still exists.

you take the protein bar as a peace offering and take a bite. “i do miss cheer, if that matters to you.”

“try out for our team,” she says quickly, like the solution is obvious.

“it’s not that easy. it’d be like you trying to play for a new team right now in the middle of your season.”

“so then cheer just for me,” she grins.

“i’d rather die than be an ice girl.” you roll your eyes. “i can’t even skate.”

“seriously? with your dad?”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes. “dani, please don’t talk about my dad while i’m debating getting naked for you again.”

“yeah?” the way she grins at your confession makes your heart thud.

“but you said you had a party to get to, so…” you trail off, eyeing her.

you almost let out a scream as daniela leaps and tackles you back into a laying position, biting playfully at your jaw.

“you’re going to get me in so much trouble,” she sighs, pressing feverish kisses against your neck.

“good thing he won’t find out.” you lift her chin to face you and press a finger to her lips, admiring her pretty, pretty face. “don’t tell me you’ve never kept something a secret before?”

“i’m gonna have to,” she breathes, her arms snaking under your back, “‘cause i’m having a hard time keeping my hands to myself.”

“do something about it,” you grin, and dani doesn’t make you wait.

there’s no point in lying to yourself. you can fool the world, maybe, between the stolen glances and rushed kisses in the empty locker room or in the secrecy of your bedroom, but you can feel the way dani’s eyes never quite leave your head. you find yourself thinking about her at every turn, remembering new things as she keeps opening up to you about her past, her hopes for the future, her experiences as captain. you want to think that of course, if she’s the best hook up you’ve ever had, it’d be obvious why she’s on your mind, but you know it’d be a lie to pretend your feelings weren’t getting involved, despite your better judgement.

each time you watch her wink at you from the ice, or order your coffee perfectly as if she’s memorized it, or see her leave a stupid cute note on your clipboard, you can’t help but wonder if she’s this damn charming with all her other hookups too.

you try not to overthink it and instead focus on the newfound freedoms your dad is slowly loosening up to allow you, with each passing week that you stay out of trouble (at least, trouble that he’s aware of.)

can i go to a party if i stay w lara and megan the entire time?

You’ve got some nerve asking If I call you need to pick up at any point

i’ll leave with her and text you each step of the way

you text to the group chat that you’re good to go and they all send a variety of cheering gifs or stupid memes about how fucked up they’re going to get you.

(at least, all of them except for dani, who never acknowledges your texts in the group chat.)

you appreciate that they’ve finally stopped treating you just as coach’s daughter, finally brave enough to stop babying you. you’re especially grateful when you get to the party and yunjin is feeding you shots much to chaewon’s disapproval, the defenseman screaming laughing as lara and kazuha try to race to take down their drinks before megan even manages to take a single, nervous sip from her cup. you’re grateful to have made so many stupid fun friends who are so so nice to you, but you can’t help but feel like the shenanigans would feel complete with the presence of one particular frat-boy-like captain who thrives in these environments.

you try to not be obvious about looking around to seek her out, but you can feel the eyes on you from the other side of the room. like two magnets finding the opposite ends of each other, always pulling to touch.

unfortunately, when you do spot her, looking painfully attractive in an oversized university polo and a backwards hat, she’s standing way too close to a random girl for your liking. you guys had never discussed the parameters of what was and wasn’t allowed, and a part of you had always known she wasn’t likely the type you could lock down if you were just friends with benefits.

fine. you don’t owe her anything. you turn back around and reach for chaewon’s hand, inviting your friend to dance with you as lara’s girlfriend hands you another drink. you’re over trying to push dani. if she wants anything from you. she knows exactly where to find you.

you’re almost able to push her out of your head until chaewon trades to be dance partners with kazuha, landing you with yunjin holding you by the waist. you think nothing of it– her super secure girlfriend is literally two feet away from you, doing the same with kazuha, and yunjin has always been nothing but platonic with you, doting on how much she loves chaewon.

“i’m sure these moves have your girl so, so happy,” you laugh, motioning to how she can manage to both lead you so smoothly and also trip up over her own feet at the same time.

yunjin grins back at you in response. “i always step on her feet, and she’ll still kiss me. i think she pretends it doesn’t even happen.”

“now that’s true love,” you coo, motioning over to the bobbed girl in question, who blows you both a kiss as kazuha dips her over and over.

“i like to think she’s into me,” yunjin smiles.

“y/n isn’t drunk enough to be able to keep up with your whack ass moves, huh.”

the hair on the back of your neck tingles. you’ve gotten too good at picking up daniela’s husky voice absolutely anywhere.

“funny. if anyone knows about getting shit-face wasted, it’s you, cap.” yunjin raises her cup to the blonde, words teetering dangerously on the edge of disdain. she motions to you and shoos you two off irritatedly. “take it away.”

before you can protest, dani is pulling you into the hallway, secluded from the bustle of the party centered in the living room.

her hands are all over you, her teeth in your neck painfully fast with no warning, as if to assert herself. you shove her away.

“what the fuck, dani?” you hiss, wincing at the sting of your skin.

“missed you,” she says simply, pressing you back up against the wall, and you’re in shock about hearing her blatant confession. you think back and realize it might be the first time she’s ever admitted something like that.

“you’re sending me mixed signals,” you call her out, putting a hand on her chest to keep some space between you two. “you don’t want me to get mad at you but you go crazy when you see me complimenting someone else.”

“fine then,” she growls, though you knew she’d avoid taking accountability for the whiplash she’s putting you through. “so should we just fucking quit while we’re ahead?”

you see the way her eyes change, something pressing beneath that calloused exterior, you know dani, deep down, and you know what it means when she acts out. so you decide to take a chance.

“i want to know more about you,” you breathe gently, looking around quickly to make sure there’s no prying eyes, before cupping a hand to her cheek. “and i want to keep seeing you. please stop trying to fuck with my head.”

her eyes soften, and your heart melts. your bet pays off– her guard is dropping.

“you won’t like what you find,” she warns, and the way her voice hardens makes you wonder what she’s possibly been through to think so low of herself.

“let me decide that on my own,” you tell her, tilting your head. “why do you keep pushing me away?”

“i thought i was fine with it, but i kept thinking about it. and i don’t want to hook up with someone who’s just using me to get back at someone else.”

“me liking you had nothing to do with my dad. it’d be easier to like you if my dad wasn’t terrified of you,” you shake your head, realizing how fucked up the reality of the situation is.

you don’t realize what’s slipped out of your mouth until daniela’s eyes are lighting up, even in the dim lighting. her voice is so, so eager, you want to risk it all and kiss her right there and then.

“y/n, you like me?” she questions.

“duh,” you wrinkle your nose, embarrassed but unable to find a way to take it back. “are you blind? is it seriously news to you?”

“i thought yunjin was fucking with me.”

“god, yunjin could see it,” you want to shrivel up and die– you had never mentioned dani to her, but yunjin is dating chaewon, the super genius, and is clearly no idiot herself. “but why would she lie to you?”

dani bites back a guilty smile. “i’ve been kind of shitty to her before.”

you remember the first time watching their rivalry at practice, the smoothness with which they play but the very obvious tension off the ice. you even remember how dani didn’t bother you until it was yunjin who started dancing with you.

“why are you so fucking weird about yunjin?”

you expect an excuse, but dani simply grits her teeth and lets out a breath. “yunjin is like, what i could be if i wasn’t so fucked up. she’s confident and stupid but people really like her.”

“people really like you,” you press back.

“people put up with me,” she corrects, smiling painfully. “you and i both know i’m bad news.”

“that’s not true.”

“you know it is,” she insists “coach only tolerates me because i’m lara’s best friend, and because i got captain.”

“you’re a star player, that’s why you’re captain.”

“megan is a star player,” she corrects you again. this is new territory for you– daniela’s always been so infuriatingly cocky, you almost don’t know what to make about the overload of sincerity she’s sharing with you. you regret every time you’ve talked shit about her ego, realizing it was probably the only thing protecting her from this terrible notion she has of herself.

“you almost won player of the year last season,” you remind her, the party now lost behind you both. “that’s nothing small.”

“your dad got so mad when i got nominated that year and not lara,” she laughs, but you can hear something painful in her voice. the pain of being constantly compared.

“you earned it for a reason,” you answer quickly, and you see something click in her.

“you’re the only person who’s never sized me up to lara,” she tells you. “or yunjin.”

“no comparison,” you answer quickly. “you’re so one-of-a-kind, dani. it’s mesmerizing.”

“i love lara, but even she puts me in this box, like i can’t be trusted. i know she means well but it’s hard sometimes. she’s so perfect, yunjin’s so likeable, and i’m too much,” dani breathes.

“you’re not too much,” you disagree. “you’re so human. you’re like the most authentic person i know.”

“i feel like my feelings are too big for my body sometimes,” she admits, and you can’t believe she’s sharing all this at a frat party at like 1 in the morning. “like they control me instead of the other way around.”

“that makes you so special. you’re not hiding away like everyone else. you’re not scared to treat people like human beings.”

“nobody cares about that,” she snorts.

“i care about that. my dad always treats me like i’m some breakable doll.” nobody has ever made you feel safe or seen enough to confess the frustrations of being the youngest in your family comes with. “my brothers were always the ones allowed to get away with everything but i had to be under his thumb.”

“i wish we would have met any other way,” she says simply, and you feel the weight of her words resonating from inside of you. she leans in before adding a quiet whisper, “y/n, you like me?”

“i should have never said something,” you roll your eyes, but she reaches for your hand.

“you guys okay?”

your eyes both snap up at the voice. you breathe out a sigh of relief as you realize it’s those big brown puppy eyes looking back at you.

megan.

“i was going to steal lara’s keys so we could go–”

“kiss, a lot,” her girlfriend chimes in, cheeks flushed from clearly one too many drinks.

“no, she’s too tipsy for that, ignore her.” megan wrinkles her nose, holding the girl tightly by the waist to help hold her up. “i was going to let her sleep it off in the car but i’ll just get us an uber to take her home. take the keys, and go talk. that way, nobody interrupts.”

“i’m gonna teach her how to rock your shit once you’re all sobered up,” dani promises, pointing a finger at the both of them.

“dani, i am so serious, please shut the fuck up,” megan begs, and you can see her ears flushing red from beneath her beanie.

her girlfriend grins mischievously. “nooo, you should hear what she can do when–”

megan interrupts by simply turning them around and walking away with the girl in tow, throwing the keys at your feet as her eyes go wide. you hear her tone soften as she walks off in search of somewhere to let her clearly drunk girlfriend sober up. “okay, baby, not now, but especially not ever with dani…”

you’re a little nervous that you’re being driven home without lara present, but you figure being home is better than staying out in your dad’s book. dani admits she hadn’t actually been drinking that night, which is a surprise to you, but you’re absolutely counting it as a win that she confessed all these thoughts sober.

you don’t remember who reaches out first, but her hand is holding yours as she drives down the familiar streets to your house, and you feel like you can picture it forever.

“how did you get captain after lara turned it down?” you ask, after she had opened up about so many other issues in her life, answering each of your questions more honestly than the last.

“it was our old coach, she was training your dad before she transitioned to a new team.” you remember this. your dad had been assistant coach for years, and when the old head coach announced her retirement, your mom threw the biggest celebration to cheer him on for his promotion. “coach misty looked me in the eyes and told me that even if the athletics department wanted lara, i was always her first pick.”

“really?”

“she said i needed the responsibility so i wouldn’t do more stupid things.”

“that worked out,” you deadpan.

“i was worse, when i first joined the program. i’d skip practice, i had a shit attitude, i’d show up to games hungover. i threw up once offsides because i had been partying the night before too hard. at least now i stop before i get sick.”

“really?” you can’t imagine it. as destructive as dani is off the ice, her commitment to her sport is sacred. sure dani can be a goof during practice, but never during the drills themselves, or the games. you’d never once seen her show up with less than 110% when it comes down to it, laser-focused on whatever she’s doing.

“she saw the worst in me, and still believed i could be good,” dani shrugs. “good enough to announce me captain. i cleaned up my act a little once that happened. wanted to make her proud.”

“someone believed in you, once upon a time.” you tell her softly. “maybe you should remember that when you feel reckless.”

“fine.” she lets out a sigh and taps the steering wheel as if she’s thinking. you’re about to make a dumb comment about how good she looks in that hat, but she catches you off guard with her next statement:

“i think we should stop hooking up with other people.”

“what?” you question, as if you heard her wrong.

“just make it easy.” she shrugs again, avoiding your gaze. “plus finals are coming up, we’ll be able to stay focused and blow off steam with less time in between.”

you’re too caught off guard to give a straight answer. instead, you want answers to your pressing questions. “when we first met, why did you get weird when i told you everyone was warning me about you?”

she hums for a moment, her thumb running across your knuckles. “i let myself start to like you, then i remembered who i am and what i do.”

“you’re not a bad person, dani,” you shake your head.

“you can’t even claim me,” she pushes back, pulling up in front of your house.

“you’re not exactly showing me off either,” you point out.

“your dad would kill me,” she laughs, pointing to your house with all the lights off, “and i have one more year before i go pro.”

“fine.” you turn in the seat to face her, bringing your interlaced hands up to examine her knuckles. “we keep it secret for one more year, and once we graduate, if we’re still together, we say something.”

“so, we’re not gonna sneak around forever?” she asks, eyes lighting up.

“i’m private, but i want to make it very clear that i’m not ashamed of you.”

“you’ll hate me in a year,” she pushes you teasingly.

“i hated you for a little bit, but you grew on me.” you reach over to plant a soft kiss on her lips, feeling much too bold considering your dad is asleep just inside the house. “maybe you’ll hate me in a year.”

“guess you’ll just have to stick around a year and find out,” daniela smirks, before reaching across your seat to let you out of the car door once more.

you make it upstairs to your room, and she sends you a screenshot of her lockscreen.

look at what time i made it home.

the time is irrelevant. all you see is that her background has been changed to a team photo, where you and her are sharing a glance. your heart thuds as you hunt down the same photo and change yours too.

“this fucking stupid ass crush,” you mumble to yourself, before letting yourself fall asleep. you don’t have to have a name for it. whatever it is with dani, at least as of tonight, is perfect.

there’s two semifinal home games left until the championships, and you’ve never felt more anxious to be through a game in your life. between finals coming up, your dad extra on edge, and now trying to make time to see dani outside of just when the sun is gone, you feel like something is dangerously close to bursting, and yet you’re not sure which part of your life is bound to burst first.

the semi-final game, however, gives a hint that hockey is probably going to be a huge stressor for the next two weeks.

the game is absolute insanity. the girls are playing like maniacs, both intense and borderline sloppy as they barely manage to keep a lead up above the attacking team. your dad is beyond himself, screaming so hard he ends up snapping a clipboard over his knee out of frustration when the team lands another foul and gets away with it.

dani, however, is not one to let things slide, and makes sure the team knows she won’t tolerate a dirty play against megan under any circumstance.

daniela takes the other team’s center down, gripping her by the back of her jersey, and slams her into the ice. she drops on top of her, swinging two fast blows in succession against her helmet before the ref can swing over. yunjin jumps in quickly, dogpiling onto the other girl as her teammates come to her rescue. kazuha, freakishly strong, reaches down to yank a girl off dani’s back.

the referee finally makes his way over and calls a 2 minute penalty for daniela. it’s the first time you’ve ever seen her in the box. she storms over and slams the half-door shut, watching anxiously as her team tries to play without her for the next 120 seconds.

“never seen you fight before,” you tell her through the glass, trying to distract her as her eyes stay laser focused on the ice.

“this team fractured my eye socket last year.” she tells you back sharply, and she seems genuinely pissed. “and now trying a high-stick on meg? they had it coming.”

they barely scrape by with the win, and you have to sit through your dad’s lecture about how playing sloppy is almost worse than losing.

you, the golden trio, and their girlfriends are all leaving the stadium towards the parking lot, ready to go to their place and go straight to sleep after such a heavy game. but there’s an unfamiliar voice calling out from the dimly lit lot.

“you had to try and play dirty to win?” the girls call out, and you recognize them as some of the players from the other team. you look around and realize it’s just the few of you in the parking lot, last to leave. you get a sinking feeling in your stomach.

dani, fearless as always, is the first to step in front of your team and snap back against the attempts at intimidating her team.

“i was gonna apologize for beating your ass bare in front of thousands of people, but it sounds like you deserved it,” she bites back.

“you call a dirty dogpile beating my ass?” the girl scoffs. “try again alone and you won’t come out as easily.”

“not worth it,” lara rolls her eyes, unlocking the car door to load her stuff into.

“easy to say when you can only win on home turf,” the girl responds.

“home court advantage? are you serious? look at our fucking record. you talk a lot of shit for a team that just got their asses whipped,” dani bites back, chest puffing as lara reaches out to hold her back. you feel frozen at the exchange.

megan is stepping backwards with nervous eyes, tutor girl pulling her by the wrist to try and distract her.

“oh come on, come step up like a fucking grown up.” the other team’s player points at the ginger in question and how tutor girl is trying to redirect her. “or does your little loser girl do all the hard shit for you?”

you see something twitch in megan’s jaw, her eyes blowing dark.

holy shit.

within seconds, megan is launching forwards, both hands pressing into the other girl’s shoulders and sending her slamming into the ground with one harsh push. she stands over her as you all bolt to grab her.

“next one ends as you with no teeth,” megan says, voice cold and even. you have never once heard megan talk like that, much less think she was capable of it.

ugh. to be her girlfriend, having someone claim you that hard.

“she gets it, baby,” tutor girl pulls her back.

you can tell this was the catalyst to something terrible.

“you wanna start something then not finish it?” the other girl snaps angrily, lifting herself up off the ground with the help of the two other girls.

“your girlfriend says that’s a pattern of your’s,” dani snips.

oh, this idiot and her big mouth.

“try it again, blondie,” she challenges, gesturing for her to approach.

“walk away, daniela,” lara pushes her, but dani’s too fucking stubborn to back down.

in seconds, dani’s shoving into the other girl, despite the height difference, pressing her face into the other girls’ fearlessly. you’re in awe of how she seems completely unphased.

“they might not fight, but i do,” she bites, “and i’m not known to fucking lose.”

the other girl shoves back and before you know it, they’re at blows, even scarier now without all the padding from the game. you’re seconds from running in to try and pull them off of each other when you see a flash of another girl coming up behind her. you realize her intentions look less than a friendly way to blow off steam.

megan’s scream is the loudest. “dani!”

the girl lifts her foot to land a kick straight into the side of dani’s knee, and you see the sickening bend of a joint that shouldn’t go in that direction.

daniela screams and drops to the ground face-first, and the other team’s girls freeze as they realize what just happened of their teammate taking it too far. they sprint in the opposite direction, disappearing into the night, and you feel your heart start to race as dani stays on the ground. you’re waiting for her to make some stupid joke, to pop up and do a backflip or something, but once you see her swollen cheek and bloodied lip dripping with silent tears as she grips her knee, you realize something is horribly wrong.

“dani?” you whisper.

“i think we need a doctor,” lara utters, starting the car.

“dani, can you get up?” megan asks worriedly, and daniela keeps ignoring everyone to clutch her leg.

“this is not good,” you whimper, feeling your body go numb.

you immediately direct megan to help dani to her feet, and lara is racing to pull her car around. megan and her girlfriend help dani limp into the car, and the blonde is ignoring all of you with wide eyes.

“i think she’s in shock,” lara says worriedly, and you bring a hand to dani’s face. the gash above her eye from where she hit the ground is bleeding profusely, and she looks pale.

“hey, you’re okay,” you reassure her, trying to bring her back to earth.

“y/n, i felt two pops. both my ligaments.” she says it solemnly, eyes still wide, as if she’s processing it over and over. “that’s my knee. that’s my career.”

“you also hit your head which i’m sure didn’t help,” you push back, knowing dani always manages to get out of things with the craziest of luck. you press a kiss to her knuckles, forgetting the world around you. “you’ll be okay.”

“that’s it for me,” she says quickly, before her face pales again and her head slumps forward, the shock clearly wearing off.

the ER nurse takes one look at daniela, bloodied, bruised, and her limp body only held up by megan’s sheer strength at this point, and hurriedly gets her in a wheelchair and out of the lobby.

your group waits anxiously in the lobby, intentionally leaving out mentioning this your dad yet. you can already hear what he’s going to say to her, and you figure the last thing she needs is to hear his lecture right about now. hours pass by, megan and her girlfriend curled up in one chair, lara falling asleep on your shoulder, as you fidget with your phone waiting to hear literally anything back.

they allow one person back to go see her, and lara wakes up and volunteers immediately. part of you wishes you could go back with them, but you figure if only megan knows, you shouldn’t be spilling to just anyone especially when dani can’t stand up for herself.

lara comes back a few minutes later, shaking her head. the disappointment is written clearly on her features.

you realize now, why it had to be dani as captain. yes, lara is lovely and easy to like and responsible, but as soon as the pressure hits, you can read the distress all over her features. she’s shutting down, clearly bearing bad news.

dani would be frustrated, maybe, but her energy would stay up and she’d find some way to make even the biggest problems seem like no sweat. that’s what coach misty had seen in dani, all that time ago, to appoint her captain. an undying tenacity and a willpower of steel– the kind that inspires people.

“the forehead needed three stitches, which they did.” she lets out a sigh. “um, but they’re putting her in for a cat scan right now to see what’s going on with the knee and how bad it is.”

“they’re going to go straight into surgery to see what they can repair in her knee. the acl and the mcl both ripped from the impact. they said we should look into pressing charges.”

your heart drops.

“the good news is my girlfriend has seen plenty of acl rips that can heal fast enough to finish a season. we might not have her for championships but she’ll be with us next year.”

you look over at megan, who is teary eyed at the thought of all of this. “can we see her?”

lara nods. “she has a room, they’ll let us know when we can go in.”

lara decides to be the responsible one and steps outside to call her girlfriend first, and then face your dad. once a nurse comes down to say she’s accepting visitors (albeit, sleepily due to the pain meds,) megan is leaving you guys in the dust to race upstairs towards the room.

dani’s peaceful snores from her bed bring you some source of comfort. megan curls up in the chair next to the bed and pulls out her phone, mumbling something about calling out from class the next day.

lara’s girlfriend arrives and the other girlfriends wait outside the door, peeking in through the crack in case dani stirs.

“poor lar is still on the phone with coach y/ln. you can imagine how it’s going,” she wrinkles her nose. tutor girl grimaces.

“hate to be her right about now.”

“check it out. your puppy dog doesn’t want to leave her side,” you laugh.

“you haven’t either,” tutor girl points out playfully.

“someone sane has gotta keep an eye on our captain,” you shrug.

“dani is like a big sister to her,” tutor girl says worriedly, watching from the window as megan lays her head on dani’s bed. “she loves her.”

lara’s girlfriend turns to you, and with zero judgement in her voice, asks simply: “what’s she to you?”

“loaded question,” is all you say, and they both laugh in response.

megan bursts out the door with an eager smile. “she’s awake!”

you let the other girls go in first and say their pieces. at this point, it’s nearly 2am after all the waiting, and the adrenaline doesn’t balance out how tired they all must be from the game and being up this late. you let them trickle out of the room as they finish up, last out being megan, before you nod to her and promise you’ll keep an eye on her best friend through the night.

they leave, and you step into the room, feeling a small breath escape you at the sight of her.

she’s sitting up in the bed, beaming that stupidly gorgeous smile at you, but the stitches on her forehead and the scrapes and bruises on her face make your heart ache. she looks so small in the hospital gown, your otherwise larger than life daniela, but all you can think about is how grateful you are that she’s in one piece.

“will i sound too familiar if i start screaming about your dumb fucking choices tonight?” you start, but your voice can’t hide the fact that you’re not actually angry at her, as stern as you’re trying to be.

“sorry i’m such a shit-head,” she apologizes simply, the smile never dropping.

“how’d you know my dad’s nickname for you?” you tease.

“‘cause he calls me it like it’s my government name,” she winkles her nose back at you, looking around before reaching out a hand to you.

“i don’t think you’re all that bad, daniela avanzini.” you smile gently and take her hand in yours as you stand next to the bed.

“you haven’t known me long enough,” she snorts. “you’ll find something.”

“shockingly, i’ve liked what i’ve seen.” you press playfully into her chin. “i hope i get to know you long enough to prove you wrong, but you’re gonna have to stop doing stupid shit like this.”

“careful,” she clicks her tongue. “people might think you’re soft for me.”

“you got under my skin at some point.” you shrug, the smile on your lips only growing. “unfortunately, i think i like you there.”

she pauses for a moment, and you wonder if she’s going to say something stupid, but instead, she simply looks up at you with those sharp gorgeous dark eyes.

“will you stay, please?”

“you know,” you tell her, relenting instantly and cuddling into the bed with her, “i had this sick fantasy of finally hearing you beg, but now that you’re begging, i feel like a horrible person because it doesn’t actually turn me on.”

“you’re so evil,” she laughs. “maybe we are meant to be.”

“slow down, playboy,” you tease, before letting out a quiet nervous breath. “what’d the doctor say?”

“good thing i’m still insanely hot,” she says, flexing her biceps beside you, “cause it sounds like i’m never playing hockey again.”

your heart drops. “what? but lara said–”

“recovery for all the ripped joints is well over a year. that’s this and next season.” she holds up two fingers. “there’s no chance i’m going pro missing my rest of my junior and then my senior season, and that’s if my knee even heals right.”

“dani…” you feel your heart ache at the implication.

“that’s what, almost 15 years? just down the drain.” she shakes her head, dropping back against the pillow with wide eyes. “everyone is asking me what the fuck i’m going to do next and all i can do is stare back like an idiot.”

“you don’t have to know that yet,” you tell her gently, resting your head on her shoulder. “i think you should give yourself a chance to rest.”

she scoffs and runs a hand through her hair, sarcasm dripping in her voice. “still want to sneak around with me? broken knee, no more games, useless ass captain with her career down the drain? at least i can smoke so much more weed while i rot on the couch.”

you blink once, twice, as you realize the warmth in your chest has overflowed in a way that never had anything to do with daniela’s status. you like her for her, and you’re hurt she couldn’t see that from the start.

you cup her face gently in your palm and turn it to face you.

“dani,” you say quietly, trying to take in every inch of her features, her poor cut up face. “i don’t think i want to sneak any more.”

your heart pounds at the way her eyes light up.

“even like this?” she questions.

“especially like this.” you nod. “just give me some time to find the right chance to talk to my dad. maybe you can tell lara. we can figure it out from there.”

you’re mentally prepared for an excuse, from the pushback of wanting to still be single. you’re prepared for her to flip that switch and slap you with some stupid fuckboy ecxcuse, as she does whenever feelings start to get too heavily involved, but you know that’s a risk you run wih her anyways.

instead, she just stares back at you with those beautiful eyes, her smile threatening to split her face in two.

“okay,” she says simply, and it’s enough for you.

“you’re going to be okay,” you reassure her, carefully leaning into her chest to not disturb her bad leg. she wraps and arm around your shoulder and plays mindlessly with your hair. “you’re so one of a kind. things always work out for you.”

the night finally catches up to you, and you fall asleep in her arms. at this point, you don’t care who sees you. all that matters is dani needs you, and you want to be there for her, and there’s nothing your heart wants more than to make her feel cared for.

the championship game finally arrives two weeks later, and your heart breaks as the teams make it a special point to roll out a carpet on the ice to celebrate dani, who limps out in her leg brace and blows kisses all around her at the roaring fans.

the collegiate sports world was rocked by the news after your dad helped file the police report last week. the headlines hit immediately after:

“hockey champion’s career cut short due to violent assault from opposing team.”

you know it breaks her heart to have to watch the game from the bench, but dani’s calling out and making suggestions to your dad, screaming at the girls from the box to make sure they know she’s down but not out for the count. you can tell it does wonders for their morale, their leader still pushing as hard as she can from the constraints she has.

they’re wobblier on the ice than usual– like a creature on four legs that just lost it’s front foot. megan is compensating for the new left wing, who doesn’t match up with kazuha quite as gracefully as dani did, but they’re making it work. the game stays at a tense 0-0 even down to the bottom of the final period, and that’s equally lara’s job as goalie as well as yunjin’s work as defenseman to keep the puck away from their net.

it’s the offence that is feeling dani’s absence the most. it had always been kazhua to dani, zuha making a hole as dani runs the puck up, and then both of them clearing a clear pass to megan to make the final score. megan is overcompensating, somehow in multiple places at once, and by some miracle, makes a buzzer-beating shot that brings them up to their second championship victory.

1-0, and no easy feat.

the girls all swarm megan on the ice, but you quickly realize megan is crying her poor little eyes out as she races out of the swam and instead runs straight to the player box, crushing daniela in a hug as she tosses her helmet to the side.

dani furrows her brows and gives megan back the tightest hug she can manage with all the padding still on her. the other girls come to quickly trickle in and follow suit, and you can hear megan’s loud sobs heard over the hums and sniffles of the other girls. the reality sets in. their beloved captain is done for.

“we’re going to announce the next captain tomorrow after the championship recap press release,” your dad tells them, after a few pictures with the trophy and a debrief about the game. “get some rest, you all played your best tonight.”

he points to yunjin and daniela and motions for them to follow into his office. you figure you’ll give them some space and wait outside with lara and her girlfriend, but once you see yunjin step out and hurry away, you hear the volume increase. lara and the physical trainer both exchange concerned glances and walk away to offer them more privacy. you try to focus on other things, but you hear a thud of something hitting the desk, and walk into the office.

you catch the tail end of their argument. daniela’s jaw is hard and her face is red, almost as red as your dad’s, and you can tell the two have probably been screaming at each other a fair amount of time before you got there.

“captain goes to yunjin.” he presses firmly, slamming his fist down again into the table. “you thank the program for their time, you make the announcement that it’s huh, and you train her until the season starts. you can still see your scholarship out as long as you’re training with us since the injury wasn’t your fault.”

“i don’t give a fuck about my scholarship. yunjin is the wrong call for captain,” daniela bites back fearlessly.

“if you wouldn’t have gone looking for trouble, we wouldn’t have to be making this call.” he growls, shooing the both of you out of his door. “you don’t get to call shots any more, avanzini, you are done for. do what i say. announce huh at the press conference and stop causing issues.”

daniela storms out of the office, and you follow behind her, your dad slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

“if i wasn’t stuck in this fucking brace, i’d beat his ass too,” she rants, waving lara over. “let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“enough with fighting people,” you growl, following them to the car.

you spend the night, and daniela doesn’t want to say a single word more about it, instead simply laying in the bed and letting you play with her hair until she falls asleep. you want to leave it there, but something inside you is pressing to dig a little deeper, so you slip out of the bed as gently as you can without waking her, and ask lara if you can borrow the car to make a quick trip. your dad is clearly too stressed out about the conference tomorrow to be checking where you are, so you figure maybe you can dig a little deeper into this as you give chaewon a quick phone call.

you make it to chaewon’s apartment complex and just as you had the hunch, yunjin is pulling up at the exact same time, looking like a zombie as she tries punching in the access code to the front door. you park and race up behind her before she can leave you behind.

“hi yunjin,” you greet, making your presence known.

“y/n.” she forces a smile, spinning on her heel. caught. “good to see you.”

“i thought we were cool, but you don’t seem that thrilled to see me,” you wrinkle your nose. “did chae tell you i was asking about you?”

“unfortunately, yes,” she wrinkles her nose back at you. yunjin straddles the line between being confident and cocky, just barely able to rein it in that you’re never quite that annoyed with her.

“sorry for you, but i need answers,” you press.

“all for a girl who won’t claim you?” she arches a brow.

you bite back a grimace, not wanting to admit how deep that cuts. “this isn’t about dani.”

“when it comes to this team, everything is about dani.” she shakes her head.

“when it comes to dani, everything is about the team,” you insist, and you see yunjin’s eyebrow twitch slightly.

“i hate admitting when daniela is right, but i also disagree with the call to make me captain.”

“so don’t accept,” you state simply.

“i have to,” yunjin sighs. “it’s not that easy.”

“why don’t you think it should go to you?”

“i love hockey, but i don’t live and breathe it. coach y/ln just wants an incoming senior who can say the right polite things, keep the sponsors happy, and then graduate and be out of there. i’m the closest she could get to lara raj. dani, as much trouble as she caused, also got us the right kind of attention. it was supposed to be her keeping captain until she graduated. someone like that isn’t going to pop up again. lightning doesn’t strike twice.”

you marinade on her words. that might explain why dani is so irritated about the call– yunjin seems ready to be a puppet for the next year, and daniela would rather die than let captain go to someone who doesn’t see the sport as their whole life.

“i’ve never seen her like that before, so reasonable. she’s crazy about you,” yunjin adds as an afterthought. “she met her match in you.”

“crazy knows crazy,” you laugh.

“i think you believing in her changed her.” yunjin corrects you, offering a small smile as a peace offering. “she’s a pain in the ass, but she’s our favorite pain in the ass, so thank you for taking care of her.”

suddenly the door swings open, revealing a sleepy-eyed chaewon.

“oh hi, y/n,” she blinks, looking between the both of you. “i wasn’t expecting you to actually come over.”

“not crashing, just needed to find yunjin. thanks, chae. see you tomorrow.” you nod to them both and head off. you don’t have a plan, but you at least have a better idea of what’s going through daniela’s head, and maybe that can be enough for now. you drive back to her place and squeeze right back into bed with her, wondering what this new chapter could possibly have in store for you.

the press conference finally comes the next day, and you’ve never seen so many bodies packed in the conference room before. photographers, reporters, even what looks like scouts and coaches invited from other teams. yunjin is seated next to you in the front row by the coaches, and megan and lara are right outside the door watching on the screen outside the room with the rest of the team.

dani limps her way onto the stage, unreadable expression on her face. they offer her a roaring round of applause, their university’s mini-celebrity, before quieting down as she takes to the microphone to start the speech.

“hockey has given me the most beautiful past 15 years of my life. i’d like to thank the program, for giving me a home to call my own, and the coaches, for pushing me to be my best. i’d like to thank the girls, most of all, for trusting my decisions, following me into the dark, and picking me up every single time i’ve fallen in pursuit of perfection.”

“as we celebrate this win,” she continues, “i know my time as captain has come to a beautiful end. i will mourn the season i never got to share, but i know the next captain is going to set the most incredible example for the team moving froward. being captain changed me. it gave me something to be responsible for, and a reason to believe in myself, even on the hardest days, when nothing felt redeemable. this is not a decision the program has taken lightly, as the job of team captain is only for those strong enough to lead by example, and believe in themselves to do it with a clear focus on the team.”

she presses her lips into a fine line, clearly trying to fake a smile. your heart aches as you know she’s being forced to do this against her better hopes.

“i am proud to announce my successor,” she starts, her face cold.

theres a pause, and you see her eyes change. she looks up at you and that glint of mischief shines as your eyes meet. you whisper a scolding to yourself but the grin on her face tells you that her mind is made up. she leans into the microphone and takes measures into her own hands.

“the women’s hockey team is in no better hands next year than incoming junior megan skiendiel. thank you,” she nods and stands up, and the conference room bursts into a roar of flashing cameras, overlapping questions, and a few whistled cheers.

you know your dad is going to fucking kill her but she walks off the stage with no fear and heads backstage.

tutor girl texts you immediately.

holy shit

daniela’s too smart. the university is in too tight of a position to retract her statement. dani is adored by thousands, and the sob story of her early retirement locks in her legacy as a hero– if your dad retracts her statement, he’s as good as dead.

you all rush to find her backstage as your dad scrambles to the mic, announcing “no further questions.”

megan is the first to spot her, and you can already see the color drained from her face in shock as her lip quivers. “dani–”

“listen, megs.” daniela grabs the taller girl by the shoulders, pulling her in to look her deep in the eyes. “you are our top scorer. you are first to practice every time and always the last to leave. you live, breathe, and die by this sport. everything i know, i’ve taught you, and you’ve surpassed me. you are a better, younger version of myself and you are the heart of this team.”

you didn’t know where dani’s head was at with yunjin, but you can see it now. experience and composure vs talent and dedication. yunjin is perfect on paper, but megan is obsessed with the sport down to her very core. and when daniela needed a reminder she was more than just a stupid little problem child, she recognizes that megan needs the same push to see she’s not just some nervous idiot little kid.

“i can’t do what you do,” megan hiccups, and you can see how hard she’s biting down on her lip to stop herself from bursting into tears. “i can’t do any of this without you.”

“you won’t have to.” dani pulls her into a crushing hug, and you feel your heart warm. “i’ve got your back, and you’ve got all of ours. believe in yourself, or at least remember that at least one person believes in you, and the rest will come naturally.”

your dad’s voice booms over all of you, interrupting the otherwise tender moment.

“avanzini, my fucking office, now.”

he’s stanced menacingly in front of the group, finger pointed in the direction of the coach’s offices. you all fall silent, clearly terrified of what comes next from him.

well, all except for daniela, who steps right up to him and points a finger just an inch from his face.

“yeah, keep swearing at me ‘cause i got more to say to you, you bald-headed bitch,” she pushes back fearlessly.

“oh, don’t start, avanzini,” he groans, backing down and walking towards the office.

you want to die of laughter as you watch her limp after him. daniela and her incessant need to run her mouth.

you give megan a quick squeeze of reassurance and leave her in the arms of the girls. whatever is about to go down between daniela and your dad should probably involve a witness, so you chase them down and follow into his office. they don’t even notice you entering, right back into a screaming match they’re all too good at.

“do you know the shit you just got us into? i have a whole department losing their minds over their top spokesperson having to transition off and now you’re going off script picking your own fucking captain! do you know the position that puts us in?” he’s seething so hard, you see the spit flying from his lips as he can barely contain himself. “do you ever fucking think about anything besides yourself?”

“yes, actually.” daniela’s face is hard, she’s standing tall, taking the verbal beating but snapping back just as forcefully to make sure he knows it won’t be an easy fight. “i think about a lot of other people, actually.”

“forgive me for finding that hard to believe, between the partying, the disrespect, and the self-centered attitude.” he holds up a finger for each vice he lists. “you carry yourself like some cocky frat boy and i’ve enabled you for way too fucking long. sometimes i wonder what the fuck goes on up there in that brain of yours besides thinking about yourself.”

you see daniela’s fists clench, and she lets out a sharp breath.

“you wonder what i think about?” she snaps, before taking a step back and laughing bitterly. “this is a great time to tell you that i’m in love with your daughter.”

you freeze. oh christ.

“don’t joke like that, avanzini.” he waves her off, immediately attempting to call her bluff. “you’ve already put my blood pressure high enough. don’t pick the low fucking blows.”

“coach,” dani says simply, and her eyes flicker to you.

you look back at her, and realize your dad is staring between the two of you. his face falls instantly as he sees the look you share.

“y/n, if she’s roped you into some prank, it’s not fucking funny, and this is not the time. this is serious, kiddo, you can’t let her use you to make a joke at my expense–”

your eyes meet dani’s once more, and you realize you have a choice. be stuck under his thumb forever, or choose to be impulsive and brave.

and something about those eyes makes you feel like maybe, it wouldn’t kill you to be your own person.

“i know daniela is a pain in your ass, but she’s also passionate, and brave, and she loves hard.” you start, and your dad groans in exasperation as he buries his face in his hands.

“not you, y/n, i literally told them the only rule was not you,” he sighs, before pointing back at daniela. “i should have known i couldn’t fucking trust you.”

“you don’t see the good side of her because you’re too busy wishing she was lara, or yunjin.”

you see dani and your dad tense simultaneously.

“i’d be pretty annoying too if i couldn’t exist by myself,” you continue. “you’re always comparing her and she never gets a chance to just be celebrated for everything she does right.”

“no. not being trusted is a consequence of your own decisions,” he tells her.

“you don’t know everything about me,” daniela growls.

“no, avanzini, i do know you,” he snaps back quickly, an accusing finger in her face. “i know you’re arrogant and hot-headed. i know you act first and think later, and that’s if you even think at all.”

“and all of those things make her someone you can depend on to give 110%,” you jump in to her defense. “do you know how many times she’s shown up to cheer someone up after a hard game? how she teaches others how to show up first to every practice? how she’s there the moment anyone needs someone? every time the girls start to beat themselves up because you’ve been a dick, she’s the first one helping them feel better about themselves.”

“it’s not just about being composed,” you go on, “it’s about being connected, and daniela cares about everyone equally. doesn’t pick favorites, unlike you.”

“y/n, are you trying to kill me?” he runs a hand over his bald head, his skin redder than you’ve ever seen it before. he glares once more over at daniela. “and you, shit-head, you are to stay away from my daughter or i kick you from the team.”

“i’m not approved to play anyways,” dani snaps back immediately. “you can’t stop me from shit.”

“kicking her isn’t your call,” you push back.

“she’s going to ruin your future,” he warns, but it feels like the weak final attempt of someone losing to try and get the upper hand.

“you not listening to anyone else is going to ruin yours. watch how your team falls apart without dani to guide them,” you snap back, grabbing daniela’s hand to yank her out of the office with you. “she’s not some fucking monster.”

you pause for a second in the doorway, before adding a final thought.

“and for the record, dad, dani did everything possible to ignore me. i sought her out, over and over, because she was the only person who treated me like a human being and not like your little puppet.”

your hands are shaking as you two simply keep walking, making your way out of the building. you’ve never once pushed back against him like that.

“holy shit,” daniela says simply, slumping up against the giant oak tree by the athletics building.

it’s not enough for you, you’re all adrenaline, and if there was ever a time to claim and be claimed, it’s now.

“you could say it to my dad, right in his fucking face, and yet you can’t look me in the eyes and say it to me?” you tell her hurriedly, grabbing her hands and holding them in your own shaky ones. “you can look him in the eyes, tell him off, tell him you’re in love with me, and still not be able to look me in the eyes to say it here?”

“i didn’t think the chance would ever hit me again,” she admits. “i did it, but i was fucking scared.”

“big bad avanzini, scared?” you laugh, throwing your head back. “never thought i’d see the day.”

“i want to be a different person for you,” she tells you, her tone dropping into a more serious one, as she brushes a few strands of hair from your face. “a good one.”

“you are a good person,” you press, taking her face into your hand. “i wanted you then, before you knew you were good, and i want you now.”

“it’ll kill me if i hurt you,” she clenches her jaw.

“dani, we’ve already hurt each other and we weren’t even together.” you shake your head at all the time you two had wasted being stupid and playing games. “and you forgive me, and i still forgive you, and i still know you’re good at your core.”

“i want you bad, y/n,” she breathes shakily. “but things i’ve loved in my life never really end up working out.”

“because you sabotage them, thinking you’re not worth it.” you hold her perfect face in both of your hands, forcing her to look at you. “you are perfect for me.”

“it’s risky,” she warns you, but you can see her guard falling one last time. “being in love can be really fucking painful. it’s a huge risk.”

“luckily for me, i fell in love with the most reckless, relentless daredevil i’ve ever met,” you grin, and she matches your smile with her own. “i trust you, daniela avanzini. with my whole heart, actually.”

she pulls you into a searing kiss, and you realize it’s the first time you’ve ever kissed in the fresh air, not hidden in someone’s room or in a dark hallway. you relish it, her soft, warm lips against yours in the brisk winter time air, the way she pulls you in to press your bodies flush together. your heard thuds at the realization.

it’ll be the first of many.

megan taps the microphone nervously, pulling at her tie to loosen it.

“uh, hi.”

tutor girl is recording next to you, looking like a proud soccer mom. she told you just moments before how hard megan had worked on this speech. the summertime pre-season press conference is no joke, usually it’s how the program will set the tone for the upcoming season, and the team is eagerly waiting in the front row of the conference seating to cheer on the ginger on stage.

“i take the torch of leadership from a mentor who is extremely dear to me.” she starts slowly, and you notice that she has no notes in front of her, having memorized the speech itself. “i’m excited to work to bring out the best in this team, the way our former captain brought out the best in me, and in every one of us. i will aim high not to achieve, but to improve. all i will seek is that we improve upon ourselves, and the rest we’ll take as it comes for the love of this beautiful sport. thank you for believing in me, and i hope this season gives everyone something to be proud of. my name is megan skiendiel, and i am extremely honored to be named the women’s hockey team captain.”

she nods, bowing slightly, and stands up once the photos have all been taken.

dani watches on the other side of you, arms crossed. her lips are pressed into a grin.

“you did this,” you tell her, motioning to the packed conference and the roars of cheering fans from outside the conference room. “your stubborn self made this all happen.”

“someone once described me as relentless,” she smiles, poking you in the hip.

“no, i said you’re annoying,” you correct, as the two of you make your way back towards the coach’s area.

“i’ll be honest, i probably wasn’t listening either way.” she teases, and you roll your eyes. “you start yapping and i get lost in those eyes.”

“okay, alright loverboy,” you push her face away, but she presses back twice as strong to plant a kiss on your cheek. you squeeze her cheek in response. “ugh, you’re so fucking cute it makes me aggressive.”

“you’re always aggressive,” she laughs.

“don’t let anyone look at you during the faculty meeting,” you warn. “if someone smiles at you, you say–”

“‘i have a girlfriend, i love her with my whole heart, and she’ll kill you,’” dani nods, remembering the lines you two playfully ran the night before.

“you’re so good.” you hum happily.

“if anyone looks my way, i’ll call you and then punch them in the head,” she reassures you, laughing.

“no violence.” you warn her. “you’re not a frat boy any more.”

“i love you,” she says simply, but the firmness in her tone and the way she reaches for your hand speaks volumes.

you grab her by the chin and stare deep into those beautiful dark eyes. her tooth gem sparkles as she smiles widely back at you.

“be good, and have fun. i’ll wait for you at home.”

“naked, hopefully,” dani quips back quickly.

“we can’t keep traumatizing poor megan,” you laugh, shaking your head.

“you are the best thing that ever happened to me,” she tells you earnestly, eyes looking over you as if seeking something.

“if someone discovers how to quit you, i hope they let me know,” you wrap your arms around her neck and plant one last kiss on her forehead.

“hope that never fucking happens.” she says easily. “you’re stuck with my ass.”

“ugh.” you push her away with one last kiss to her cheek. “go be charming and stupid somewhere else before i drag you into a bathroom.”

she looks so fucking cute in the university polo. a popped collar and a red cup in her hands and she’d look much too comfortable throwing back to her frat boy days. she runs off and joins the familiar figure of your dad as the hockey program faculty head into a meeting room.

your dad shoves her, and she grins twice as big up at him as she jumps up to slap the back of his big, bald head and then sprints off. he grumbles something and you watch as the two disappear into the room with the rest of the staff. you couldn’t be more proud of the way dani has found a way to keep chasing her dreams.

daniela avanzini. incoming senior, and new assistant coach in training.

and, her title for you and you alone, daniela avanzini. the most passionate, caring, insanely brave girlfriend anyone could have ever imagined.

#katseye x reader #daniela x reader #daniela avanzini #daniela avanzini x reader #daniela avanzini x female reader #daniela katseye #katseye imagines #katseye daniela #☆ﾟ coolwyous works.#☆ﾟ coolwyous - hurt.

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arcadia-smith · 2 months ago

Text

New territory.

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: intimacy is completely new territory for you, but you are willing to explore it with Simon. Feelings and connecting is new for Simon, but he'll get into it because of you.

Word count: just under 2k

Warning: 18+, sex.

Note: This was a request. And I am sad that it was made anonymously, so I cannot tag the person. Idea was great and I have like three different versions of this in my notes, so I might be posting all of them at some point. This one I had trouble with the ending actually. Also, not proofread or anything, so I'm sorry if it's messy, but I couldn't let this idea go to waste.

"Still on for tonight?"

"Yeah, Si. Pick me up at 7"

"It's a date then."

You tossed your phone onto the bed, shifting your attention back to the mirror.

Black lace bra, matching panties. Your eyes flicked to the red set draped over the chair.

You were overthinking this. Did Simon even care if your underwear matched? If it was expensive? The books said he would, so you’d gone out and bought multiple sets—delicate, pricey, and, if you were being honest, not the most comfortable.

Your boobs felt squished, lifted too high, and the panties clung in all the wrong places, riding up betweed your ass cheeks every time you moved. But then remembering how his eyes widened and a little comment spilled out of his mouth "Love the flowers, luv" when he saw your other panties the first time you let him undress you, even now, thinking about it, made you blush and get embarrassed.

You couldn't stop thinking about it for weeks. Even cancelled a few dates with Simon, thinking he'd make fun of them every time he saw you, but he never mentioned your flower pattern panties again.

You met him about seven months ago. In a bar. You weren’t sure what made him cross the room and sit beside you, but conversation came easy—lighthearted banter, a little flirting. When he offered to walk you home, you panicked. Played up your drunkenness, hoping he’d lose interest.

He didn’t.

Instead, he called a cab, made sure you got in safely, and asked for your number.

The next morning, you woke up to a text from him. And just like that, you started talking.

This—whatever it was—was uncharted territory for you. The touches, the teasing, the way he looked at you. And the intimacy that followed.

Pretty soon you found out that Simon wasn't a man for softness.

Sex, to him, had always been an outlet—nothing more than sweat and heat, hands grasping without tenderness, a way to escape his own head for a while. He was used to bodies tangled together, voices rough and demanding, the kind of urgency that burned fast and left nothing behind.

But months spent getting to know you made him experience new things too. He developed a need to be careful, to handle you like something precious.

And fuck, he wanted to.

He wanted to be gentle, to savor every shaky breath you gave him, every soft sigh against his skin. He wanted to be good for you.

By the time seven rolled around, you were ready, though your hands fidgeted against your thighs as you waited. The sound of a truck pulling up outside had your stomach flipping, and you grabbed your purse, smoothing your dress before heading out.

Simon leaned against the hood of his truck, arms crossed, his ever-present balaclava pulled up just enough to show the curve of his mouth. His gaze flicked over you, slow and deliberate, before he pushed off the hood and opened the passenger door for you.

"You look nice," he murmured as you slid into the seat.

Your heart stuttered a little at the low timbre of his voice.

"Thanks, Si."

The evening had been nice—dinner, easy conversation, and the kind of quiet moments that never felt awkward with Simon. The weather was mild enough for a walk afterward, his hand warm around yours as you strolled side by side.

Then came the question.

"Wanna crash at my place?"

Simon gave your fingers a gentle squeeze, his voice steady but softer than usual. "I mean... I leave in two days. Another month gone. Wouldn’t mind spending as much time with you as I can."

You knew what he was really saying. What the night would likely lead to. And just like that, your mind started spinning, already getting ahead of itself.

Kneeling in front of you, his hands found your thighs, thumbs brushing slow, soothing circles

Simon kissed your knee, an innocent touch, but he felt the way your breath hitched, how your fingers curled into the sheets. Every little reaction you had made his stomach tighten with something foreign, something deeper than just want.

He guided you through each step, letting you explore, letting you learn.

The first time you kissed him with intent, it stole his breath. The first time your hands hesitantly traced the scars on his chest, he had to fight the instinct to pull away. And the first time you let him undress you—slowly, carefully, with whispered reassurances—he realized he had never truly been with someone before.

Not like this.

He had never felt someone’s trust settle so heavily against his skin. Never known what it was like to be needed in a way that wasn’t just physical.

You were beneath him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved over you, inside you. Everything was new to you, and he had been patient, slow, careful. He tried to keep his hands gentle, but his patience frayed when you let out a soft sound of pleasure. His grip tightened, his kisses grew rougher, and he flipped you onto your stomach before you could even react.

"Stay just like that," he murmured, the authority in his voice instinctual.

You froze beneath him.

It wasn’t fear, but uncertainty. He didn’t notice—not right away. He was too caught up in the heat of it, too used to doing this with someone who already knew how rough he could get.

He guided himself to your entrance, his broad chest pressing firmly against your back, pinning you into the plush mattress beneath you.

The moment he pushed inside, he didn’t grant your body much time to adjust before his hips began to move, each thrust deep and unrelenting. His teeth found your shoulder, biting down- hard.

Then he hit that one spot, the one that sent a sharp, twisting sensation through you—not the kind that made your toes curl in pleasure, but something else entirely. A cry tore from your lips before you could stop it.

One moment you were on your stomach, the next you were on your back, now facing him.

“Thought you wanted this. You can take it.” he muttered, the words slipping out without thought.

It was something he might have said to someone else before. To someone who didn’t care how impersonal it sounded. But you weren’t someone else.

It was instinct, the way he shifted, the way his grip tightened just a little too much, the way his teeth caught against your throat with just a bit too much bite. His voice dropped into something darker, rougher, a sharp contrast to the tenderness he’d started with.

The way you stiffened, the way your breath hitched in a way that wasn’t pleasure. And then—

“Stop.”

It was soft, barely above a whisper, but it was enough to cut through the haze in his head.

His heart stopped.

Your hands were on his chest now, pushing lightly. Not frantic, not afraid, just firm. A boundary.

Fuck.

He moved off you immediately, sitting back, giving you space. His pulse pounded in his ears, a sharp rush of self-recrimination. He ran a hand over his face, breathing hard, stomach twisting at the thought that he’d hurt you.

You were breathing just as heavily, pulling the sheets up around yourself. Your eyes weren’t filled with fear—thank God—but there was something hesitant there, something uncertain, and it gutted him.

"Shit," Simon rasped, scrubbing a hand down his face.

You didn’t say anything right away, just curled into yourself slightly, the sheets gathered around your body like armor. You weren’t scared—he could see that, could feel it—but the hesitation in your eyes cut deeper than any blade ever had.

"I’m sorry." His voice was hoarse, rough. "I—fuck, I didn’t mean—"

"I know." You exhaled, slow, controlled. Not placating, not brushing it off. Just... steady.

That steadiness was the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.

His jaw clenched as he forced himself to look at you, to meet your gaze instead of looking away like a coward. "I shouldn’t have—"

"I just... need a minute." Your fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles going white. "It was just... too much."

He nodded, throat tight. Too much. Not rejection. Not fear. Just a line he’d crossed without realizing it.

Simon had never had to think about these things before—never had to learn softness. He'd spent years taking what was offered, using, being used. This—you—were different. And he’d fucked it up.

He nodded and shifted back further, giving you as much space as you needed. He’d wait. However long it took.

Because you were worth it.

You stayed like that for a while—silent, the weight of the moment hanging in the air. Simon didn’t push, didn’t say a word, just kept his distance, watching you with an intensity that seemed to strip away every last bit of pretense.

Finally, you shifted, drawing in a slow, steady breath. The sheets rustled as you pulled them tighter around you, but your body language softened, just a little.

"I’m okay," you said, your voice a little shaky but grounded. "I just... I need to feel like it's me you want, not just...” You paused. “Not just... whatever you’re used to.”

The air in the room seemed to shift. The words hit Simon like a hammer to the chest, the weight of them settling deeply in his stomach. He had spent so long in a world where everything was physical, where touch had no meaning beyond the moment—it was a reality he’d never questioned, until now. Until you.

"I want you," he said, his voice more vulnerable than ever before. "I want you, not... anything else. I fucked up, and I’m sorry."

To be honest, Simon had no idea what to say, how to make you understand, how to reassure you that you weren’t just another fleeting thing in his life, at least not anymore, not since he'd gotten to know you.

You quietly slipped out of bed, wrapping the sheets around your body. "I'll just... be a minute," you whispered, picking up your clothes as you made your way toward the bathroom.

As the bathroom door clicked shut behind you, Simon buried his face in his palms. "Great job, Riley," he muttered to himself.

What felt like an eternity to Simon passed in silence before you finally emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed. His gaze locked onto you, waiting for something — anything.

"You want me to take you home?" His voice was uncertain, a trace of fear creeping in.

You shook your head slowly, realizing just how this must look like to him. "No... no, I still want to spend time with you... just not... doing that."

Simon nodded, but it wasn’t the relief of understanding that he felt. Instead, for the first time in his life, he was gripped by an overwhelming fear — the fear that you might leave, that no one would be waiting for him when he returned from deployment. That after this night, once you're out the door in the morning, you might never want to see him.

#writers on tumblr #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

Hey Mae, you wrote a Spencer smut blurb a while ago about him helping reader speak up in the bedroom and at the end it mentions him using his handcuffs on reader. Just wondering if you would write a followup to that heheh 🌚

Thank you for requesting babe ;)

cw: smut mdni, bondage, slighttttt dom spencer but not really it's a collaborative effort haha

Spencer Reid x afab!reader ♡ 652 words

You make an involuntary whimpering sound.

Spencer lifts his head to look at you. “You okay?”

“Y…yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

Your boyfriend’s look softens. “Okay. Try not to sound so distressed, please? It makes me think you’re not having fun.”

“Sorry.” You want to tell him that you’re not having fun, but you are, really. The bite of metal into your wrists is a welcome, if frustrating, restraint.

“You don’t have to be sorry, sweetheart,” Spencer assures you, voice turning slow as he lowers his lips back to your shoulder. The brush of his knuckles against your inner thigh is enough to make another whimper rise in your throat.

The handcuffs were your idea. You don’t think bringing work into the bedroom would have ever crossed Spencer’s mind, but your stomach had flipped excitedly when he’d locked them over your wrists. He was careful not to make them too tight, told you to say something if they started to rub your skin wrong, but you sort of enjoy the pressure of them each time you tug against the bed frame.

Spencer’s curiosity is just as fervid in the bedroom as it is out. He takes his time with you, cataloguing each movement and sound. Your breath hitches, and he tilts his head, an academic. Scientific fingers explore every curve and bend.

You’re seeping arousal from between your folds before he even gets there.

“Spence,” you plead.

“Hm?”

“Can you just—” You can’t say it. You know Spencer appreciates plain language, but you can’t make yourself. You push your hips up, hoping he gets the hint.

He does. He smiles, the asshole. “Can you be patient? I’m getting there.”

“Today?”

“Okay, fine.” Spencer laughs as he pushes two fingers into you, their path slick and easy. You gasp in surprise. “Is this what you want?”

“Please.”

“I told you I was getting to it.” His voice gentles. He touches his lips to the side of your throat, fingers moving slowly in and out of you. Curling. Gently, so gently. “You know you do better when we build up to it.”

You almost miss the days when Spencer was still shy around you. When sex made him nervous, when he didn’t know your body quite so well or feel so confident in how to make you tick.

He’s right, of course.

“I’m—ahh…”

“Yeah, I know.” Spencer kisses the flat of your chest. Doubtless feeling your erratic heartbeat. “You never like it when it’s happening, but you’re happy afterward. You’ll thank me.”

It’s not violent, your undoing; Spencer takes you apart gently, with careful fingers, and then swallows the cry that escapes you like it’s his favorite flavor.

Your wrists are lined with agitated circlets when he pushes into you. You’re well worked open by then. Time is lost to you. You gasp and roll your hips, desperate to grab him, your fists curling around nothing.

“Hey.” Spencer’s thumb presses over your pulse, a barrier between you and the cuff. “Relax. Be careful with yourself.”

His lips are parted, pupils blown but eyes soft with concern. You love him. It’s not the first time you’ve thought it, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve said it, but suddenly you feel it achingly, urgently, tearily. You love him you love him you love him.

“Come here,” you beg him in as nice a voice as you can.

Spencer listens, because he always listens to you, really, even when you’re all tied up and helpless and probably a little delirious. His mouth covers yours with reassuring warmth.

“Still okay?” he asks, just to be sure.

“Yes.” You press towards him, kissing his chin, his jaw, his sweaty cupid’s bow. “Oh my god, yes.”

“Okay.” Spencer links his fingers through yours. Pushing you back, but staying close to you. You shudder at the contact. “We’re okay.”

“Just stay here, please.”

“Where do you think I would go?”

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kaechu1 · 2 months ago

Text

thank you for the request pooks and sorry if it isn't as good...

Telemachus x circe's nymphs! reader

pt1 pt2(still working)

author note: i kinda like the idea so i might make other hc or scenario with this idea...

note:don't worry there will be part two of this and even part 3 if y'all lucky enough to get 3 chapters out of me.

warning:non just Telemachus being a cutie.

credit: art by gigi

y/n was one of circe nymphs, but unlike her most of sisters she was more hyper. she couldn't sit down without doing anything for more than few seconds before she start moving again causing chaos or playing games with her sisters or circe's lions.

her sisters and circe are long time used to this, they know how much energy she had so they never really question anything, she never really brings any real danger or harm to herself or to them so why stopping her from having fun?

one of [y/n] favorite activity was wondering around the island collecting plants or playing with animals there, circe allowed her but as long as she doesn't get far from the palace. i mean after all, they were the only one on this Island.

or so they thought.

────────🌊⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°🫧────────

one day [y/n] was doing her normal activities around the island, but making sure she isn't far for the palace. she was making flower crown as she was talking with one of the weird creature she fine while wandering.

but then she started hearing sounds coming from the trees, it didn't sound like an animal doing, however there was way bigger than those small creatures to cause this much of noise.

but before she can make any move or even think about what to do, some appears from behind the trees.

a man.

the man didn't seem to notice her existing at first but after making his way through all the trees and brushing off leaves from his hair they finally locked eyes.

they stare at each other for a few seconds before [y/n] lower her eyes as she sees his hand holding a sword.

the man noticed where her eyes were going and how she started stepping away a little, then as he realized he put his sword back in its Scabbard as he raised his hands to show her that he's harmless.

"i came in peace."

said with his soft voice but that didn't fool [y/n]. circe have told her alot about the men she meet and how they only act kind at first to fool them and take everything, so she didn't let her guards down.

"i don't mean any harm, I'm Telemachus. me and my crew are just staying here for a while."

that only made [y/n] raise her eyebrow. stay here? oh there's no way they're only here for this, there must be something. she might seem naive but she's not stupid.

"what's your name?"

Telemachus tries to talk again, his voice seems softer than before, he didn't look scared or like he could cause any danger, he seemed quite... charming? she couldn't lie to herself, he IS charming.

"[y/n]." she finally said before relaxing a little as she look at the man infornt of her with the same "I don't trust you" look , as if she question his whole existing.

"what are you doing here... alone?" He asks as he starts to step a little close thinking he finally got the nymph's trust, but before he could take any other steps [y/n] throw the flower crown she was making at his face.

"don't come any closer, and this is my island. what are you doing here alone" she said as she steps back, the animal she was talking with was clinging to her leg now, scared.

"hey hey, no need to be afraid. i swear im not gonna cause any harm" says Telemachus as he catches the flower crown that hit his face. "my crew is at that beach, i told them to wait while i go explore the island. and wow what beautiful crown you made." says Telemachus softly as he hold the flower crown before putting it on his head.

the nymph looks at him with confusion, why isn't he scared, isn't he afraid that i might harm him? and why is he acting so nice and gentle, is he really a good person or is he just stupid?

"yea i was making that before you came and interrupted me" said [y/n] before thinking as she relax a little. maybe he isn't dangerous? maybe she should let her guards down for now.

"well, excuse me then. i was only searching for anything to eat. do you know anything or anywhere where we could find food?"

[y/n] think for moment, she could take him to circe, but no! what if she got them all in danger because of this? he's still a stranger. she can't lead someone she doesn't know to her home... to her sisters... to her mom? mother figure circe let's go.

"no" she said firmly as she looked at him, "i think you should leave because there's nothing for you in here"

Telemachus only sighs before start to talk again "well thanks, i guess" he sounds disappointed. which moves something inside of [y/n], pity? maybe. but deep inside she felt bad.

he turned to go back from where he came from, before [y/n] stops him. "wait!" she said a bit loudly as Telemachus stopped as he turned to look at her.

"Is there anything you want from me?" he said as he smiled a little at the nymph who was still standing in the same spot.

something about the way he smiles at her makes [y/n]'s heart beat faster, as her cheeks turn pink. why she's feeling like this? what is he doing to her.

the nymph finally comes back to reality as go back to where she was sitting before as she takes one of the fruits she was collecting before throwing it at him.

"take this and go away" she said as she couldn't take the fleeting he's causing her to feel, she collects her stuff quickly before running away not even giving Telemachus a chance to realize what's happening.

[y/n] was walking back to the palace as she makes sure no one follows her. and as she came back she saw circe standing at the entrance looking around and then her eyes spots her.

"[y/n]! where have you been? you took longer than usual i thought something bad happened to you." saud circe as she put her arms on the nymph shoulder as she started checking her making sure she didn't get any hurt.

"I'm fine... sorry that I stayed out for too long i.." [y/n] stops a little thinking If she should tell circe about what happened.. circe have always took care of her and her sisters.. she can't lie to her, even if she tries..

"what's wrong dear?" Circe asks as she starts taking her nymph inside the palace walking her to where the other nymph was. before they reach to the other [y/n] stop circe.

"i.. I've met someone...a sailor" her voice whispered as if she only wanted circe to hear that.

"what?? did he do something to you? what happened tell me?" circe says a little bit of worry, not to herself but to her nymphs. they're all like her daughters after all, she'll protect them at all costs. see what i did here??

"no no! he did nothing.. he was kinda and... beautiful.. " [y/n] whisper the last part to herself, but who's she's fooling? she talking to circe.

"beautiful? and what does a sailor do here anyway?" Circe asks as she looks at her nymph as if she is holding all the answers. which she is.

"he says he's here with his crew for food,i told him there was nothing here for them but then i felt bad and gave him a fruit"

"you shouldn't have done that!? he could be dangerous, you should have come to me immediately.." circe says as she pinches her nose bridge before releasing a deep sigh.

"he didn't seem dangerous and he says he won't cause any danger, I'm sorry" says [y/n] as she look down. "no it's fine, im not mad at you okay? you're safe and that's all that matters to me. here let's bring you back to your sisters okay?" she said as she smiled at her as she started leading her to where the rest of the nymphs was.

[y/n] smile , as she walking with circe. she's happy that she didn't need to lie to her, how can she after everything, circe will always make sure she's safe, her and her sisters.

Telemachus was walking through the forest as he was still holding the fruit the nymph gave him. she said there's nothing in here to eat, then how did she get this? why did lie to him? he made sure to not seem dangerous and offered peace, could she be protecting something?

all these thoughts run through his head as he looks at the fruit in his hand, he isn't sure of anything. but if there's something he's sure about is that she's the most beautiful nymph he has ever seen- no, the most beautiful woman he ever seen...

the way the sun kisses her skin... and the way her hair shines.. her beautiful eyes and soft cheeks.. her pink lips.. he Wonder how would they fee- NO!! what was he thinking??

she's a nymph and he's the prince itcha! for god's sake what is he thinking? he should probably go back to his crew and inform them, of course he won't tell them about her. but if she gave him this fruit, that means there's more on this Island.

note:writing this was so much fun y'all, i literally finished it in one go. anyway i Hope y'all like it and if there any issues with it please do say and I'll try to fix them💗💗

taglist:@pompeiiiiiisaidso this for you so<3

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sanjisleggy · 5 months ago

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welcome to cupid island (black leg sanji x reader) [pt1]

a/n: omg so i did not expect the post i made about this idea to pop off so hard ;0; thank you to everyone who commented their interest in this fic! hopefully i managed to tag everyone who asked to be tagged

contents: jealous sanji, some fluff, a tiny bit of angst (a mere taste of what’s to come)

wc. 2.5k

PART 2

“doesn’t it bother you at all?” Nami asked, tilting her head in the direction of a familiar blond head of hair. “that he’s like that?” Sanji remains unaware of his crewmates’ attention being directed his way, too engaged in conversation with a group of ladies, soaking up all their kind words and light touches. Robin chuckles behind her hand whilst Zoro rolls his eyes, taking another sip of his fifth drink for the night.

“no, not really,” you reply with a soft laugh yourself as you continue to watch your boyfriend wiggle in joy at all the attention he was receiving. “it’s pretty harmless and i know he knows not to take it too far.” Zoro rolls his eyes again.

“you have a lot of faith in the cook, don’t you?” Robin interjects with a warm smile. she’s always been intrigued by the dynamic between the Straw Hats’ chef and botanist. “most people would count what he’s doing as ‘taking it too far’, don’t you think?” she asks and to an onlooker it might sound like a challenge of some sort but you know Robin’s just curious.

“you’re right,” you reply, “both you and Nami.” you reach out to give the navigator sitting beside you a side hug. “i just think we have a special kind of understanding, if that makes sense.”

“whatever floats your boat.” Zoro speaks for the first time since you guys entered the bar. “knowing the shitty cook, i just have a feeling he won’t be so patient if the tables were turned.”

“i’d have to agree.” Nami hums thoughtfully before cracking a smile. “but you’re such a catch, it won’t be long until someone threatens to take his place, huh?” though you feel your face heat up at the compliment, you simply shake your head and laugh, glancing over once more at your beloved.

this time, his eyes catch yours and a wide, goofy grin spreads across his face. Sanji waves, body swaying slightly from the alcohol.

“HI MY SWEET (Y/N)!” he yells with a certain lack of restraint that only comes with being inebriated. before you can react, he wobbles over to your table, ignoring the curious glances and calls from the women he was chatting to before. walking up behind your chair, Sanji slumps over and wraps his arms around your chest, nuzzling his face into your neck. “‘m tired now. let’s go to bed?” he mumbles, continuing to rub his stubbly face against your skin.

after a whole thirty minutes of slowly guiding him back to the Merry and into your shared quarters, you finally manage to make it to bed. you tuck Sanji in before crawling to his side. still barely awake, he hums and pulls you close, tucking your head under his chin and tangling his long legs with yours under the blanket. his hands find their way under the back of your shirt, fingers lightly brushing gentle circles into your skin.

“did you have a fun night?” you ask as you press a soft kiss to his collarbone.

“mmhmm,” he hums. “all the pretty ladies asked me so many questions about our adventures,” Sanji’s words got more muffled by the syllable as he spoke while burying his face in your hair, “but all i could really tell them was about how awesome and sexy you are when you beat up assholes and whatever.”

“oh, really?” you can’t help but continue the conversation even though you can tell how close to falling asleep he is.

“mmhmm…” Sanji takes a comically big whiff of your hair. “time for sleep. goodnight, my love.”

“goodnight, sweet boy.”

ii.

the next morning you dock at a new island that seems fairly peaceful enough for everyone to go about and explore on their own. Luffy, Usopp and Chopper run off to god knows where so the rest of you opt to stick together.

still slightly hungover, Sanji hugs your arm as you stroll down the bustling streets, trailing behind Robin, Nami and Zoro. before you can ask if he’d like to go rest in bed, he suddenly perks up and breaks off from the group to go greet a group of well-dressed women.

actually, now that you think of it–

“doesn’t it seem like everyone is super dressed up here?” you point out, eyes scanning the crowd. all the men and women look well-groomed and don very clean, stylish outfits.

“it’s not just the people,” Nami responds, “the whole town looks decorated for some kind of festival don’t you think?”

“whatever’s going on, there’s far too much pink,” Zoro scoffs halfheartedly.

“it’s Valentine’s Week!” an eavesdropping passerby shares. “we celebrate it here on Cupid’s Island every year. it’s when everyone’s encouraged to woo their romantic interests or propose to their significant others. this year’s special, though.”

“and why’s that?” Robin asks.

“on the last day is when our crown prince Aphr is going to ascend the throne and choose his queen. it’ll be the final thing we celebrate as a town before Valentine’s Week ends! you guys are tourists, right? you should stay until then.”

“when’s that?”

“three days from now!”

“thats roughly how long we have until the log pose sets so i don’t see why not.” Nami shrugs.

after thanking the stranger for their help, the four of you decide to settle lodging for the whole crew until it’s time to leave. as the others discuss further details, you opt to look for Sanji to reel him back to the group. you spot his back a few metres away but before you can call out for him, an old lady grabs your arm.

“hey!” you cry out instinctively, instantly capturing the attention of your crewmates as well as your lover whose eyes dart around frantically looking for you. meanwhile, Nami, Robin and Zoro ready themselves for a possible fight.

“it’s time for a love reading!” the old lady announces and everyone around you cheers. “come, take a seat.” she ushers you to a stool just beside her.

“what’s going on?” you ask, still apprehensive but less on-edge than you were a second ago.

“it’s a Valentine’s Week tradition, my dear, nothing to worry about.” she straightens your clothes and tidies your hair as you take a seat, glancing over at your crewmates for reassurance. Zoro nods, hands at the ready. “i heard you were tourists so i’ll do this reading for free, dearie.”

before you can ask what the hell she’s talking about, she closes her eyes and waves her hands around in an odd manner. the surrounding crowd goes quiet, seemingly entranced by the display, looking almost eager for what’s to come. the only movement comes from Sanji who’s now pushing through the locals to get to you.

then, out of the blue, the old lady gasps as her eyes shoot open. she stares at you incredulously for a second before turning to the audience.

“her score is a hundred out of a hundred!”

just as Sanji reaches you to pull you into a protective embrace, the entire street roars with excitement at the elderly woman’s news.

“what the hell does that mean?” Sanji murmurs. you wonder to yourself the same thing, finding comfort in the chaos from the warmth of his body pressed against yours as well as the knowledge that, without fail, he came right to you when he thought you were in danger.

iii.

much to the entire crew’s relief, your perfect score was apparently nothing but good news. for the next two days, you and your companions are treated like VIPs, much to Nami’s pleasure because it resulted in free lodging at the swankiest hotel.

“all already fully paid for and it’s right beside the royal palace!” the random stranger who sponsored your rooms proudly proclaimed, his eyes scanned over your crewmates before landing and staying on you. “nothing but the best for this year’s prime candidate, of course.”

“and who are we to say no to free things, right guys?” Nami instantly took him up on the offer before the man guided you to the elevators. as you streamed in, the last of the crew to enter the lift, the man took your hand and lifted it to his lips.

“and i hope you will consider me as your choice after this generous gift, milady,” he said after pressing a kiss to your skin. so shocked by the sudden turn of events, you could only stare at him in confusion as the rest of your companions’ jaws dropped.

“she’s taken,” Sanji growled as he grabbed your arm and tugged you to his chest. “thanks for the free rooms but kindly fuck off. now. or i’ll kick your ass so hard the whole hotel is gonna collapse.”

though it was the first, it was certainly not the last time people approached you to shower you with compliments and gifts. while their methods of wooing you vary widely from handmade snacks to reciting poems, one thing they all have in common was how unabashed their attempts are.

“i think our chef’s about to lose it,” Robin observes as the few of you stroll down the street booths to soak in all the festivities. “he’s flirting with the local women as usual but it’s like his eyes are glued onto you,” she laughs, gesturing in his direction.

turning around to see what she means, you bite back a laugh of your own when you spot your beloved partner a few booths away. although surrounded by women who are clearly interested in reciprocating his advances, Sanji’s eyes are blown wide open and staring right at you. his face turns red when you wave and shoot him a smile.

“excuse me, i have a gift for you–” the nth unfamiliar voice of the day tears your attention away from your boyfriend as you turn around to respond to your new pursuer. before you can reject their present, though, you feel a sudden overwhelming presence behind you as the stranger’s face turns pale.

looking up, you’re greeted by the scowling face of your favourite chef, cigarette between his teeth nearly cut in half from how hard he’s biting it. his sharp gaze pierces the man in front of you. if looks could kill, it would’ve been a massacre.

“hey sweet boy,” you greet, reaching out to cup his face in your hand, head still looking straight up at him as he towers behind you. the moment your skin makes contact with his, Sanji’s body relaxes and he turns his gaze to you, his eyes now round and shining. he holds your hand to his face, the size of his hand engulfing the entirety of yours.

“ya finally done flirting with women, shitty cook?” Zoro yells from a short distance away. Sanji shouts back his own retort as usual, all the while still pressing your hand to his cheek. when he’s done verbally abusing his friend, he returns his attention to the stranger still standing in front of you, now seemingly frozen in place, wrapped present still held in his shaking hands.

“and you.” Sanji mutters. “beat it.”

iv.

for the rest of the day, as the sun made its slow descent from the sky, the blond haired cook stayed glued to your side.

“it’s like he’s your stupid guard dog or something,” Zoro snorted; and though he’d meant it in a derogatory sense, you could kind of see where he was coming from. Sanji had never looked so threatening in the time you’ve known him, his gaze was sharp with his fist clenched at his side (his other hand was holding yours) and it looked like he was ready to pounce on whichever poor soul tried to steal you away from him next.

“oh my god, he’s actually like a dog,” Nami concurred with an amused look on her face when she observed how the chef only lost his tough guy act whenever you paid him any attention. the second you talked to him or looked his way, he would instantly snap back to his normal sweet self.

“it’s quite endearing in a weird way,” Robin added. neither Nami or Zoro agreed out loud but shared the same sentiment.

after sunset, you find yourself reunited with the rest of your crew for dinner. with your free rooms came access to the hotel’s fanciest restaurant (much to Luffy’s delight) and (to Sanji’s horror) even richer men and women trying to make you fall in love with them.

“i wonder how much this is gonna cost,” Luffy says at one point, words muffled from how much food he’s stuffing into his mouth.

“it’s all free,” Robin answers, “everything here was sent by and paid for by the other patrons.” She turns to look at you, propping up her arm by her elbow to rest her chin on her hand. “our dear (Y/N) sure is popular here.” she says, smiling endearingly when she notices how Sanji shuffles his chair closer to yours in response.

without saying a word, he reaches out under the table to hold your hand. the relief he feels when you give him a light squeeze in return makes his heart sink the lowest it ever has the entire time your crew set foot on Cupid Island and he can’t really put his finger on the reason.

shouldn’t i feel happy she’s still willing to hold my hand?

Sanji pulls your hand over to rest atop his lap before choosing to forgo the rest of his dinner to simply play with your fingers. for a good while, you’re content with watching him quietly caress and rub your digits as though they’re the most precious things in the world, heart fluttering at the gesture. you can tell he’s thinking about something but decide that it’ll be better to ask him about it later in the privacy of your hotel room.

“excuse me, miss (Y/N)?” a deep voice says as the young man who owns it walks through the restaurant and towards your crew’s table. gasps erupt from every other table as all eyes fall on him and subsequently your group as well. seeing as its nothing new, most of your companions simply ignore him to continue eating and drinking to their hearts’ content. the man stops by your side, standing in between your chair and Sanji’s, seemingly undeterred by the sight of your hand resting on your beloved’s thigh.

“yes?” you respond simply, looking up at him. you’d be a liar if you said he wasn’t an attractive person, with his shiny soft hair, defined cheekbones and the brightest eyes you’ve ever seen; but his looks alone do nothing to your heart.

the man drops to one knee before you and just a split second after, you feel Sanji tighten his grip on your hand. his palms turning cold and clammy as he glares at the intruder forcing himself in between you and him. the rest of your crew freeze in place, mouths agape at the sight playing out before them.

“my name is Prince Aphr of Cupid Island and i would like to officially court you for your eventual hand in marriage.”

to be continued

–

tags: @amei-draws-stuff @carmen-skullz @cobainlover @lara-christensen-me @shondlenoodle @teewon @makingmammonmoves @carmendanny2

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x yn #one piece x you #op x reader #imagine #fanfic #op #sanji x reader #angst #fluff #opla x reader #one piece live action x reader #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 9 days ago

Note

Hello!! Sorry to bother you *again* buuuttt… *bink bink bink* I was wondering if you could perhaps write something about the boys reacting to afab/fem reader dressing up as their childhood crush? Hope this is enjj ok ugh information, and I feel so bad that I’ve asked you for something again so soon!! Sorrryy!!!

-Lunar🐱

Dream Girl

Pairing: Poly!141 x AFAB/fem!reader

Warnings: Light suggestiveness, pining, fluff, teasing, light language, reader wears outfits inspired by their childhood crushes, mild kissing, strong romantic tones

Author's Note: This was such a joy to write—thank you for the darling idea. I hope it came out as good as you hoped!!

Summary: On a lazy rainy Sunday, you decided to surprise each of her boys by dressing up as the women who stole their hearts during childhood. What starts as a playful gift turns into something a lot more tender.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The rain hasn’t stopped all morning. It taps softly on the windows of your shared quarters, a soothing rhythm that makes the whole place feel like a slow, sleepy dream. The air smells like coffee and warm laundry, and somewhere in the rec room, you can hear the faint hum of a kettle.

The boys are scattered, relaxed. Sunday is sacred—no training, no briefings, no missions.

You’ve been planning this for weeks.

A little mischief. A lot of love. And just enough nostalgia to knock the breath out of each of them.

You’ve already told them you’d be “trying on outfits” today. You left out which ones.

—

THE CAPTAIN AND THE CROFT

You walk into the lounge first, boots heavy, hips swaying. The tank top clings to you in all the right ways. Cargo shorts ride high on your thighs, and the toy gun holsters bounce slightly with each step.

John looks up from his newspaper—classic, worn, and full of half-finished crosswords.

His eyes drag over you.

He doesn’t say a word. Not right away.

You walk to the center of the room and strike a pose, one hand resting on your belt, the other adjusting your braid.

“Well?” you smirk. “Got any ancient tombs that need exploring?”

John exhales through his nose, the paper forgotten. “Lara bloody Croft,” he mutters, voice gravelly. “Are you trying to make me short-circuit, love?”

You grin and strut closer, dropping into his lap. His arms wrap around you instantly, hands warm on your bare thighs.

“I wanted to give you something fun. Something for you.” You lean in, lips brushing his ear. “Remember the VHS tapes you said you wore out when you were fourteen?”

His laughter is warm, chesty, completely smitten. “You really are somethin’ else.”

“Say it,” you whisper.

He grins against your cheek. “You’re my dream girl, love. Always have been.”

—

GHOSTS OF CHILDHOOD PAST

Next stop: the armory. You ditch the tank top for a bright yellow cropped jacket, a fake news badge clipped to your chest. Your hair’s styled in soft waves, and you carry a cheap mic like it’s a weapon.

Simon’s alone, gloves on, doing a casual clean of his knives. The fluorescent lights buzz quietly overhead.

You lean in the doorway.

“This is April O’Neil, reporting live,” you say, voice smooth. “Today we bring you exclusive coverage of the most mysterious man on base.”

Simon stills. Knife mid-polish.

Slowly, his head lifts.

You step forward, hips swaying, mic tapping against your chin.

He sets the blade down with exaggerated care. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m always serious, Simon.”

He stands fully now, towering and solid, eyes flicking over every detail of your outfit. His expression is unreadable—but his ears are red.

“April was my first crush,” he mutters, voice low, nearly reverent. “I wanted to be one of the turtles just so she’d notice me.”

You grin, hands curling into his vest. “You think she’d notice you now?”

He huffs a soft laugh and tips your chin up. “She’d fall to her knees.”

You blush, heart thundering.

And when he lifts the bottom of his mask just enough to kiss you—soft, slow, careful—you melt like butter in his hands.

—

SAVE THE WORLD, GET THE GUY

“Johnny,” you call sweetly as you step into the rec room again, “what’s the sitch?”

He looks up from the couch and immediately gasps like he’s seen a ghost—and maybe he has.

“Love, Jesus Christ,” he groans, sitting up straighter. “Is that—are you—Kim Possible?!”

You spin for him dramatically, gloves fitted tight, olive-green cargos hugging your curves. “Ron’s on leave. I’m handling missions solo today.”

He scrambles to his feet and rushes toward you, practically vibrating. “This isn’t fair. You know what you’re doin’ to me, lass.”

“Remind me?”

“You’re everything I wanted at thirteen and everything I want now in one body.”

You laugh as he sweeps you off your feet, spinning you like you weigh nothing. He presses you to the wall gently, nose brushing yours, forehead resting against you.

“Call me, beep me,” he whispers, voice low and hot, “if you wanna wreck me.”

—

PRETTY GUARDIAN POWER

You save Kyle for last—because his reaction is going to be the best.

You slip into the quarters where he’s reading, hoodie draped over his lap. He doesn’t see you at first.

Then you clear your throat and say in your brightest voice: “In the name of the moon, I will punish you!”

Kyle looks up—and freezes.

Full Sailor Scout getup. Skirt, gloves, red bows, fake tiara glittering on your forehead. You pose with your hands on your hips, your grin wide.

He drops his book.

“No way,” he whispers, eyes wide.

“Surprised?” you tease.

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack, babe.” He stands, walking slowly, reverently, like he can’t believe you’re real. “Sailor Moon?”

“I heard Sailor Jupiter was your girl.”

“She was. Tall. Tough. Gorgeous.” He stops in front of you, gaze warm. “But I think she just got replaced.”

You giggle as he lifts you into his arms, bridal style, spinning you toward the bed. “What are you doing?” you laugh.

“Dream-fulfillment service,” he teases. “Full package.”

—

Later, you’re curled up on the oversized couch you all had delivered after your last mission. You’re tucked between Simon’s solid chest and Kyle’s warm arm, your legs draped across Johnny’s lap. John’s hand rests on your knee, fingers brushing gently.

“You are ridiculous,” Simon mutters—but he can’t stop smiling.

“Ridiculously hot,” Johnny corrects, dropping a kiss on your ankle.

John chuckles. “I’m just impressed you remembered the details.”

“I remember everything about you boys,” you say softly.

Kyle leans in, his voice gentle. “You really wanted to make us feel special.”

“I always do.”

There’s a moment of silence. Warmth. Shared glances. Then, in perfect harmony, they lean in—kissing your cheeks, your forehead, your lips—until you’re breathless and giggling and entirely, completely theirs.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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witchywithwhiskey · 1 year ago

Note

bucky + “cut it out” - “what do you mean? i’m not doing anything”

getting what you want on a rainy spring afternoon

pairing: best friend!bucky barnes x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dry humping/dry sex, fingering (f receiving), consent issues (but not really? idk), dirty talk, light degradation, kissing, teasing, banter, friends to lovers

word count: 2,500ish

a/n: thank you so much for sending in this prompt!! i had far too much fun writing these two, which is why it ended up being so long 😅 (compared to my other springtime fun ficlets anyway)!! hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

“Stop it.” The words were barely discernible with the way they were growled, the annoyed rumbling coming from your best friend, Bucky Barnes. Your best friend who had come over on that rainy spring afternoon to hang out and had promptly fallen asleep instead.

Though you would’ve expected yourself to be a little sleepy, given the long week you’d had, you found yourself feeling more restless than anything else. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to settle down and cuddle up against Bucky’s arm like you’d done so many times before.

So you were left to your own devices with your best friend, who’d fallen asleep sitting up, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted back against your couch. He looked completely at ease on your couch while you were bored. You wanted Bucky’s attention and, for some reason you couldn’t fathom, you’d decided the best way to get it was to annoy him until he woke up.

You’d been trailing your fingers over his bare arms and face, tickling him until his expression twisted and he grumbled in his sleep. It was immature, but you were having too much fun to stop, suppressing your giggles every time he made an unhappy sound.

Finally, you got some actual words out of him and you had to cover your mouth to stifle your laughter. Bucky sounded so cute when he was tired and grumpy. Maybe it should’ve made you stop, but instead you waited for him to fall back asleep, his soft snores joining the gentle rhythm of the rain and the hum of the movie still playing on your TV.

Reaching up, you trailed your fingertips ever so lightly down the bridge of Bucky’s nose, skipping them off the edge before they fell to his mouth. You were surprised by how soft Bucky’s lips felt beneath your fingers, so different to the scruffy roughness of his cheeks and jaw, which seemed to be permanently covered in stubble.

Bucky’s lips parted as you were tracing them, and you yanked your hand away, turning to face the TV so you could pretend you’d only been watching the movie if he woke up. But you watched Bucky out of the corner of your eye, and he seemed to be sleeping still. Then his tongue darted out to wet his lips and your face heated inexplicably.

Suddenly, your thoughts were filled with ideas about what it would feel like to have Bucky’s mouth pressed to yours, his stubble dragging against your skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from picturing your best friend kissing along your jaw and down your neck—his lips exploring even more intimate parts of your body…

Squirming in your seat and trying to ignore the heat curling through your belly, you turned fully to Bucky, watching him closely to make sure he was asleep. When you were certain hew as, you reached out, tracing his lips again with your fingertips, feeling their softness and the dampness left behind by his tongue.

Your body warmed, and you pressed your thighs together against a pulsing ache building in your core. You didn’t want to think about your body’s reaction to touching your best friend, but you also didn’t want to stop or pull your hand away. You wanted to stay in the moment as long as possible.

So enraptured by the sight of Bucky’s mouth, you didn’t notice when his lips parted further, his raspy grumble surprising you so much you had to bite back a gasp.

“Cut it out.”

“What do you mean? I’m not doing anything.” Your reply was quick, as you pulled your hand away and leaned against his side like you were simply cuddling into him. It was normal for you to cuddle with your best friend, though you weren’t normally thinking about kissing him, or about doing other things with him, when you did.

Unfortunately—or fortunately—your new position of leaning against his arm put your face close to Bucky’s. His mouth was right there, looking oh so enticing, and an impulsive thought popped into your mind. What if you just…brushed your lips against his? Not even fully against his mouth, just the edge of it. Could it really count as a kiss if you just brushed your lips to the corner of his mouth?

You decided it didn’t.

Leaning forward, your eyes fluttered closed as your lips ghosted over the stubble next to Bucky’s mouth, then connected with the softness of his lips. Your breath caught in your throat. It felt so good—his warm breath caressing your cheek and his velvety lips against the edge of yours. You could even taste the coffee he had that morning, the flavor rich and mixing with something that was entirely Bucky.

It occurred to you far too late that you were dangerously close to kissing your best friend, and you shouldn’t be doing anything of the sort—especially while he was sleeping on your couch. You knew you should pull away and go back to watching the movie, pretend nothing ever happened. But what you really wanted was to press closer, to sink into Bucky’s chest and slip your tongue past his lips.

Instead, you just hung suspended in the moment, too wrapped up in your thoughts about kissing your best friend to notice the way his breathing shifted, his body tensing like a predator’s would right before it pounced.

Then, all at once, Bucky moved, flipping you down onto your back on the soft couch cushions and covered your body with his own, his narrow waist fitting perfectly between your thighs. His hard bulge pressed to your core, making you gasp as pleasure surged through your body, your legs wrapping around him instinctively to keep him close.

“Not doing anything, huh, doll?” Bucky rasped in a teasing voice, a wide grin on his face. “Certainly not kissing your best friend while he’s asleep, right?” Bucky’s blue eyes sparkled in the dim daylight of your living room. You squirmed guiltily beneath him, but that only succeeded in grinding your heated core against his dick, making it twitch in his sweatpants.

“Bucky,” you whined, gripping his t-shirt in your fists and shaking them, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer. Now that he was awake, you were painfully aware that your friendship was hanging by a precarious thread, but the heat flooding your body urged you to throw all caution to the wind. Still, you knew you needed to apologize for what you’d done, and you whispered, “I’m sorry,” in a small, pitiful voice.

But Bucky only grinned, ducking down and pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Don’t apologize, doll,” he said in a warm, happy tone. “I’ve been awake since you started touching my face,” he pressed a kiss to your other cheek, trailing his lips down and blowing a raspberry against your jaw, which made you shriek with laughter.

You tried to squirm away from his teasing mouth, but Bucky grabbed your hands, pulling them from his shirt and pinning them above your head. His face hovered above yours, his eyes taking you in like he was seeing you for the first time.

“I was wondering how far you’d go,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. Then, a sly smirk curved his lips and his eyes darkened, your body lighting up at the expression. “Didn’t think you’d kiss me though.” His eyes dropped to your mouth and his voice went a little distant as he murmured, “Didn’t think our first kiss would be when you thought I was asleep.”

Your lips parted and it was on the tip of your tongue to apologize when his words sank in. Had Bucky just implied that he’d thought your first kiss together was inevitable? And did his words mean he’d thought about kissing you before? How long had he been thinking about kissing you?

You didn’t have time to fully form a question in response to Bucky’s words because your best friend slanted his lips to yours, capturing them in a kiss. Immediately, the entire world fell away and your mind went blissfully blank—your guilt and trepidation melting into simple pleasure as you reveled in your first proper kiss with Bucky.

Kissing your best friend felt like coming home and sinking into the safety and comfort and bliss of knowing where you belonged. The way your lips slid against Bucky’s, you knew you belonged with him—in his arms—always. It was overwhelming and delicious at the same time, and you never wanted to stop.

“Taste so good, doll,” he rumbled, pulling away for only a second before he was diving back into your mouth, his tongue slipping between your lips and twining with yours.

You moaned into him, your hips working against the bulge in his sweatpants as you writhed beneath him. Bucky groaned, trailing his hands down your arms to your sides, freeing your hands to dive into his soft brown hair. You yanked on it lightly while his hands groped your breasts in your shirt, then smoothed down your waist to grip your hips and grind himself into you.

“Bucky!” you cried, wrenching your lips from his as you clung to your best friend and writhed with him. You could feel his hard cock perfectly through the soft cotton of his sweatpants and the thin fabric of your lounge shorts. He was grinding against your clit, his lips kissing and sucking on your neck and all you felt was bliss. “Don’t stop, Bucky, please don’t stop,” you begged in a breathy voice.

Bucky chuckled into the crook of your neck, suckling on your pulse point and groaning when you humped harder against him. “As if I could ever deprive you, doll,” he murmured, his voice warm and sweet and filling your mind with all the dirty things you could beg Bucky to do to you.

Dragging his face back to yours, you made out with Bucky, your kisses turning messy as you both got closer to the edge of your releases. Your bodies writhed together on your couch, your legs hitching around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to keep your clothed core grinding against his thick bulge.

“Oh god, Bucky, I’m gonna—” Your words cut off on a sharp cry as Bucky rolled his hips, fucking you into couch like he was pounding into your cunt. The friction against your needy clit was perfect, and you felt the pleasure in your body surge, coiling tighter and tighter.

“Come on, doll,” Bucky growled, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Come all over your best friend’s bulge like the needy little thing you are.” He rocked his hips into yours, grinding his cock against your clit through your clothes, hitting the aching nub in just the way you needed.

The pleasure in your core snapped suddenly, and you let out a shrill cry as you came, your body going tight and taut as you clung to your best friend. Your legs held him close, your hands fisted in his hair while you moaned in his ear, your body shuddering beneath his bigger form while you rode out your release by grinding languorously against his bulge.

Then you heard Bucky groan into your neck, his hips stuttering in their rhythm as he kept humping against you. You felt a warmth between your thighs and shivered, knowing what it was and it only turning you on more that you’d made Bucky come without either of you taking off your clothes.

A smile curled your mouth as you humped against your best friend’s twitching cock while as he came in his pants. He was groaning into your neck and you were clinging to him, feeling every trembling shudder that wracked his broad body.

“Fuck, fuck,” he muttered, riding out his pleasure by rubbing against your soaked core and milking every drop of come from his cock. “Fuck,” he groaned, drawing out the word and finally settling to lay on top of you as he collapsed. You lay entwined together for a long moment, simply enjoying each other.

Then, Bucky pushed up on his hands and glanced down your bodies, where he’d made a mess of both his sweatpants and your shorts.

You couldn’t help but giggle, only laughing harder when Bucky shot you an accusatory look. “This is entirely your fault, y’know?” he grumbled, beginning to move off you carefully so he didn’t make an even bigger mess. “If you hadn’t felt so good coming under me…”

You’d been about to make some flippant comment about how it’d feel much better if was inside you, but then Bucky shoved his sweatpants down and stepped out of them, walking bare-assed over to the laundry in the hallway. He turned to you expectantly, but your eyes were too busy taking in the sight of your best friend’s cock, still half-hard and swinging between his thick thighs.

“Are you going to help me clean up, or are you gonna make me strip you out of those filthy clothes?” Bucky asked gruffly, playfulness in his tone.

That snapped you out of your thoughts and you pushed yourself up off the couch, sauntering over to Bucky, enjoying the way his eyes drifted down to watch the sway of your hips. Once you were standing right in front of him, you tugged your shirt off over your head and pulled your shorts off, leaving you naked in front of your best friend.

Bucky’s jaw went slack, his eyes darkening as they took you in. “Christ, doll,” he muttered distractedly, his gaze taking in every inch of your bare skin with a greedy glint in his eyes. “You’re constantly surprising me.”

“Well someone’s gotta keep you on your toes,” you teased, pushing up onto your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to Bucky’s lips before you darted around him and ran into the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and turned on the hot water, intent on taking a shower to clean up.

Before you could step beneath the warming spray, Bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist and he hauled you against his body. His thickening cock wedged between your ass cheeks and his breath ghosting over your cheek as he murmured into your ear.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” Bucky rumbled, his hand slipping between your thighs, two fingers dipping into your soaking wet slit. “You’re mine now—and I’m going to have so much fun making my girlfriend come all over my cock.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, thrusting his fingers into your needy cunt, making your knees shake as you struggled to stay upright.

All you could do was whimper and moan, clinging to Bucky’s arms and melting back against his chest. A smile played on your lips, though, as you realized you’d gotten exactly what you wanted—your best friend’s attention. And you knew you were going to enjoy every minute of that rainy spring afternoon with your boyfriend because Bucky, and his attention, was finally all yours.

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #thyme-in-a-bubble #friends to lovers

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wosofutbolfan · 5 months ago

Text

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

8.5k Fluff, Fun, Minor Angst

Hi Guys,

This is pt4. in the 'I Would Climb Every Mountain With You" otherwise known as Explorer!R Universe. TW: description of killing an animal.

Highly recommend you read those 3 first, as this is entrenched in lore. Pt 1 can be found here.

It's developed from an ask I received from @karsonromanoff so thank you so much for the idea! I hope I did it justice and I'm sorry for the delay and the words. ha.

This is the first time I've written since my dad died. I'm not being emo or heavy about it but I am asking to please, be kind. I know there's nice people out there but often they're drowned out by the loud haters.

So throw us a comment, like or reblog if you enjoyed. I'm just trying to get back into something that brought me joy. I know I enjoyed writing it.

Also, may be weird for a fic about a spanish gay footballer, but you probably need a good working knowledge of Bear Grylls to understand 80% of this. ha.

As has become tradition, here's the song running though my head when writing! Yes, my music taste remains to be that of someone born in 1962. God love Helen Reddy.

“Vamos Ale! I don’t like to make Miguel wait…” you shout from the kitchen, bag resting on the countertop as you try to fix your bracelet with your left hand,

“Deja de preocuparte, a él no le importa, I will be one minute…” you head called back from the bedroom where your wife had been getting dressed for 2 hours now.

Yes.

Your wife.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe it.

Sometimes the weight of the band on your finger catches you by surprise and you’d remember.

Sometimes Alexia would place her hand on your bare thigh and you could feel the cool metal on your skin and you’d remember.

Sometimes you’d get called “Mrs Putellas” at a school talk, or at the Doctors, and you’d remember.

It felt so natural that sometimes you’d forget that you weren’t always Alexia's wife.

But now you are. And had been for almost 6 months. And married life couldn’t have suited you more.

Your wedding ring was your new favourite accessory, you never took it off.

In a fire you would save Alexia and your ring.

Maybe even your ring first.

It was embossed with the imprint of grass that Alexia has been collecting from each pitch of each game she had played in since you had met. The intricate design brought tears to your eyes as soon as you saw it. Made even worse by the inscription “’cause you are my goal”.

You would be embarrassed if Alexia hadn’t cried like a toddler when you presented her with the ring you had made for her, which had rock from each of the 7 peaks you had scaled, as well as a granule of sand from the Dead Sea set within it. Integrated into the metal, visible but smooth to the touch.

The inscription 'every mountain high, every valley low' on the inside of the band.

You knew you’d done good and you knew your Ale well enough to anticipate the absolute mess she would be when presented with it, ensuring you had a pocket full of tissues for the inevitable waterfall.

You weren’t wrong.

You had to assure a passing couple on the trail you had chosen that she was fine, not having a medical incident and you were definitely not mid break-up but in fact exchanging wedding bands early because you knew your fiance well enough she didn’t need her teammates to witness this much of her soft side.

Though you tried, they still saw enough on your wedding day to tease her for the last 6 months with no sign of slowing down.

Though right now your wife's behaviour was nothing but unexpected. You had agreed to attend one of Alexia's events this evening. Since getting married you had felt more of a duty to attend and make up for the years you’d left her carrying her own handbag whilst you trotted over mountains on the other side of the world.

She insisted that you didn’t have to. Like she always did. You weren’t one for the fancy dresses and the flashing cameras. But you saw the gleam of hope in her eyes as she insisted she would be fine on her own.

You couldn’t let that sparkle dim.

Also you had to set off for a camp in a few days and you had gotten seriously stuck in the honeymoon phase meaning that an evening without your wife by your side wasn’t something you could stomach.

Not that you would admit to being so clingy.

But it wasn’t like Ale to take so long to get ready, neither of you being particularly fussy, usually she would throw on some light makeup, smack your bum whilst you ate nutella off a knife under the hob light, procrastinating getting ready until she dragged you and dropped you into the ensuite, steal a kiss and a spray of perfume, and wait for you whilst watching old football clips in the living room.

But now, as you still struggled to attach the clasp of your bracelet and you had one eye on the poor Barca driver, Miguel, waiting in your driveway, you started to grow frustrated at your wife's sudden vanity.

You smelt her perfume invading your senses as you felt her arms envelope you from behind, moving your uncoordinated left hand away and easily attaching the clasp of your bracelet for you, pressing a kiss to your neck as she did so.

“Finalmente… Let’s g-...” you spoke as you turned in her embrace, finally taking in her attire which stopped you in your tracks.

“Boobs”

You had suddenly turned into a 14 year old boy and you couldn’t explain it.

You had seen your wife naked hundreds of times.

Hundreds of fantastic times.

But here she stood looking, regal. Her hair falling lightly over her face, her dark sparkly dress with wide shoulders and only what you could describe as a boob portal you had been rendered speechless. Mouth gaping open like a fish.

“...Amor?...” you heard the delight in her voice. “Are you listening to me… my eyes are up here.” she jokingly clicked her fingers in front of your face which took you out of your breast-inspired trance.

“Ale you are so beautiful” you looked deeply into her eyes but you didn’t miss the blush rising from her neck. And you meant it. She was. Wow.

“Do you like it?” she asked, shyly, “You don’t think it’s too much? It’s just the first event we’ve gone to together since we got married and I wanted to…”

You interrupt her but pressing a kiss to her lips, and, well, if you slipped a little tongue in there then fine. She was your wife after all.

“What? Show the world what they're missing out on? I am so proud to stand by your side, my love.” you whispered into her lips, as you toyed with her wedding band.

You couldn’t help yourself…”and your boobs are fantastic.”

She barked out a laugh as you leaned back into where you left off, but she took a step back, her heel clicking against the tile floor, to which you let out an annoyed grumble.

“Oi Oi, Mi Amor. What about poor Miguel, he is waiting, Si?” she teased.

“He doesn’t care… Cálla y bésame.”

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

You took a deep breath and leaned back on your chair at the round table you found yourself at. Alexia had been pulled from your side which she had stuck to like glue all evening, to go and present the final award of the evening which she had just done, very sexily if you do say so yourself. All confident and boob-y.

You smiled, imagining her now making small talk backstage, eyes bored but a smile plastered on her face as she tried to make her way back to your table.

Your other table-mates seemed to take the opportunity of the break in the ceremony to raid the free bar put on by the charity. Which seemed very uncharitable of them. But, as you toyed with the rim of your glass, who were you to judge?

Stomach full from a mediocre-mass produced meal and head happily fuzzy from the bubbles you had consumed you found yourself oddly satisfied as you sat here. In this conference room-turned auditorium in the middle of Barcelona, here, loudly and proudly as Alexia's wife.

Mrs Putellas.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, you felt weirdly grown-up. With your wife, your house, and your business. You blinked and missed yourself becoming so settled and for once in your life you weren’t terrified of the idea.

You saw the glint in Alexia's eye. When Irene and her wife would come round for dinner and bring their kid. She’d surrender all hostess duties and sit on the living room floor, crawling around at the beck and call of whatever imaginary game the 5 year old insisted on. You’d seen her perfect her lion roar in that very spot. It probably matched the glint in yours when you were grocery shopping and a child being pushed in a trolley would go past shoving cookies into the trolley without their Mother seeing.

Maybe, you thought, maybe it was time…

“It is you! I am so sorry to interrupt. I had to come over to introduce myself. I am such a fan…”

You glanced around, expecting Alexia to be standing over your shoulder and smiling politely at the person who had approached your table to meet her… but you were met with blank space and then you engaged your silly brain and realised the person was speaking English and looking at you and…

Oh My God.

It’s Bear Grylls.

“Oh My God. You’re Bear Grylls.”

You let out.

Stupidly.

Standing and thrusting your hand out like an idiot to your legitimate childhood hero.

You and your brother would watch his series for hours as children. Sat cross-legged 2 inches from the TV on your living room floor, eating up every second of his adventures. Your mum had to stop you from eating a woodlouse once in your garden because you’d seen him eat a cricket in the Amazon the evening before. Your brother smacked upside the head for trying to drink a cup of his own wee for the same reason.

Now you were a well-seasoned adventurer yourself you knew that all of that was for theatricks.

You had spent more than 7 weeks wandering the Amazon yourself once, and not one drop of urine passed your lips. Not one 8 legged insect had you gulped down in one.

But still.

Hero.

He took your hand graciously, as you both sat back down you prepared to barrage him with questions but before you could he jumped right in…

“I have been wanting to meet you for years. But my team said you had disappeared off to Spain and couldn’t be tracked down. Please, I've been desperate to know. .. Tell me all about summiting Orjas del Salado…”

So you told him, and you asked him about his adventures, and you chatted for what could have been hours, sharing stories and advice with Bear-fucking-Grylls.

He blushed as you pointed out his for-TV tricks and you thanked him for being a portal into the wider world from your living room.

At some point you felt Alexia return, a strong hand on your shoulder. You paused your monologue about Patagonia and giddily took her hand in yours, introducing them to each other.

Polite pleasantries exchanged you could tell she had legitimately no idea what was going on or who this middle-aged English guy at your table was, but judging from your excited eyes, she didn’t need to interrupt.

It didn’t take too long for someone from his team to pull him away for an interview with the charity. But as you stood to say your goodbyes he made an offer, “You know, me and the production company are making a special about survival in the Alps… I would love for you to be a guest star.”

You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment. “Really?” you asked, in wonder, your 7 year old self spinning around in glee in your chest. Alexia smiling up at you from her chair at the joy in your voice.

“Of course! I would be honored, it’s especially about how to survive in an Avalanche situation. Obviously, with what happened in Nepal…you are an expert in that fie…”

At that point, Alexia stopped her polite silence she had been maintaining whilst you had your moment with your childhood hero. And abruptly stood, clutching your hand hard in both of hers, stern look on her face.

“No.”

From the look on his face you gathered that this successful upper-middle class white English man had not been told no too often, and a beat of silence followed which Alexia was more than happy to fill.

“Sorry Señor Oso. She doesn’t do snow now. Thank you for the offer though.”

She said it with such finality that even you didn’t think to question it. Her mis-translation brought a smile to your face. Her hands still encompassed yours, her eyes didn’t leave his face. As though daring him to rebuff her.

He looked at you as though to confirm she could answer for you. Of course she could. But you knew this refusal wasn’t just about you, but about her also. You knew the anxiety it would cause her for you to put yourself in that situation wasn’t worth anything on this planet.

Nevermind the trauma it would dredge up for you. So obviously, you agreed.

“Sorry Mr Grylls. Not my rodeo anymore. I’ve got some contacts though who you could work with” you politely confirmed your refusal and felt Alexias hands lessen their grip on yours in relief.

“No, no, of course. Sorry. But no. I would really love for you to be involved in the series. We have an episode about promoting women in outdoor pursuits. It's still on the drawing board, but if you are interested I’ll get our people to liaise with each other!”

“That sounds amazing but… I don’t have any people for you to…”

“Don’t be silly Mi Amor” Alexia interrupts again, hand still in yours and the other expertly reaching into her clutch and pushing a card into his outstretched hand… “We have people. Please, Oso, be in touch.”

Smiling vaguely and confusedly at your wife, still clearly mildly terrified of her, he takes the card as he's dragged away by his handler. He's probably still in hearing distance as you squeal in glee and throw yourself into your wife's arms, making her spin with the momentum.

“Ale, Ale, Ale!!! Do you know who that was….” you exclaim.

She can’t help but laugh aloud at your antics, soft look on her face as she lifts you lightly off the ground to stop your spin.

“Si Mi Amor, ese era el hombre oso de la televisión. Tu favorito.” she replies with a smile on her face, speaking softly, somehow, in the middle of this event where she was the guest star, making you feel as though you were the only person in the universe.

“No.” you corrected “..eres mi favorito.” You sealed your words with a light kiss to her lips, chaste but warm.

“Ah, Si. And you have had some wine. You always get soft after wine.” she lightly rolls her eyes with affection at your gushing over her.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you pull her into a soft sway, your childhood hero quickly forgotten now you’re in the company of your wife.

Though the giddiness in your bones from your encounter remains.

“Si the wine.” you agree moving your lips close to her ear as you whisper, breath dancing against her cheek, your hand moves to her chest and you feel her breath falter at your closeness,

“but also your boobs.” and you quickly poke her exposed chest between her breasts before she can stop you, and you move away from her pulling her behind you as you rush off to the bar.

“Amor!” she cackles.

“Vamos Ale! A La Barra!”

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

“Estoy Muerta.”

You grumble in complaint into the chest of the warm and moving pillow that you had clearly settled on in the night.

“Shh Ale.”

“Me estoy muriendo y a mi esposa no le importa.”

“You are not dying Ale. You are hungover and over 30”, you mumble in reply, moving away from resting on her chest, the heat becoming too much for your own fuzzy brain.

“Explain to me how that is different.” she doesn’t take kindly to your light chuckle in reply, as you move your hand to cover your eyes from the sunlight starting to bleed through the curtains.

You peek an eye open and see the remnants of your previous night strewn across the bedroom floor.

You take in the glorious dress of your wifes thrown across your chest of drawers. You recall unzipping it with your mouth after making very good use of the boob portal. Much to Alexia's delight.

You had probably taken it a little bit too far at the bar. Your giddiness let your binge-drinking brit out a little too much.

You had a flash of memory at dancing on a table at a dive bar in the town centre, before being brought down by Alba who you had called and demanded come and dance the night away.

Meanwhile Alexia had been in the corner trying to drunkenly explain to Mapi a set of complicated tactics that they should try out at an additional training session in the morning.

“I thought you had scheduled extra training today Ale” you teased after taking in her pasty complexion as you rolled over and settled back down onto your, cooler, side of the bed.

“I hate you.” she replied, quite seriously, as she moulded herself against your back, taking your hand in hers and burying her face into the back of your neck.

“Of course you do, dear, it feels like it.” you tease again, wiggling yourself and making her grumble again.

You rest there for a few moments, before you’re dragged onto your back again and pulled into Alexia's embrace as she moves you around like her own personal teddy bear.

You go with the flow, quite used to your wife's clingy nature, especially when she didn't feel well.

But your silence doesn’t last two minutes before she rolls you over again, now onto your back, “Oh bloody hell, where are we going now.” you mumble, as she rests her head on your chest this time, nuzzling into your breasts.

“me estoy poniendo cómodo.” she mutters into your bosom, “allá. ahora estoy cómodo”. You run your hands through her hair, smiling down at your wife who is practically purring at the attention.

“Bebé…”, you make a noise of affirmation.

“Will you…” you know what she wants, and you know she must be feeling bad if she’s asking for attention.

“Si, my love. voy a trenzar tu cabello. One big plait or lots of little ones?”.

“The tingly ones por favor” she mumbles into your chest. Your heart expands at her adorableness, never quite learning the English for ‘french plait’ they became known as the ‘tingly ones’ in your household, because of the feeling she would get as you plaited her wet hair after a game, hands working through her scalp.

It brings a smile to your face and you can see the lovesick smile on hers where it is squished against your chest.

You start to section out her hair as she lies still, your ministrations slowly putting her to sleep, working methodically in the quiet morning.

Moving strand over strand in intricate braids, lightly tugging her scalp and undoing when it's not perfect and redoing, giving her an extra scratch to the soft skin behind her ear when you get there, knowing it's her most sensitive spot. Receiving a sleepy purr in satisfaction as your reward.

You hear the animals from the national park outside, feel the sun starting to warm the room around you. Her chest rising and falling against yours hypnotising you further into the moment. You’ve got grand plans, brunch and a walk along the beach in your mind, maybe a lazy afternoon swim, hold on no. Maybe a lazy afternoon skinny dip. Yeah.

That sounds good.

You’ve almost finished tying off the last plait when you are startled back into the moment by the buzzing of your wifes phone on the bedslide table.

You fight back a smile at the groan that is emitted from your fully grown-pro-athlete-wife. It resembled that of a teenager who’d been asked to clean their room or no dessert. When she doesn’t go to make a move you nudge her shoulder.

“Ale. Ale, your phone."

“No.”

“Yes."

“No."

“C'mon Ale.” you reach across and pick the phone up. “It could be important. It could be your secret wife wondering where you are.”

She rolls off you at your tease, throwing you a glare that resembles more of an angry kitten than anything, “It could not be, she knows where I am. I snuck out whilst you were dancing on the tables in that last bar to make plans for dinner.”

“Ah, Si of course. My mistake.”

She surges up and gives you a completely unnecessary chaste kiss, as though even the joke is too much and she has to confirm she’s kidding. The phone has stopped vibrating against the bedside table and the silence that settles over you both is welcome.

“How are you so okay? I feel like I have been run over by a truck.” she states as she rubs her face, finally sitting up to start the day.

“You are old.

“I am 2 months older than you.”

“Two, very long, months my darling.” you tap her cheek lightly as you move to get out of bed, throwing on one of her oversized t-shirts you find on the floor.

“Seria, how?” she asks again, now sprawling across the space you have vacated.

“I am English. I once did a vodka shot through my eyeball in the park. I was 14.” you state, plainley, eyebrow raised in challenge as she just looks at you, open mouthed.

“Ojalá no hubiera preguntado.” she mutters, as her phone starts to ring again.

“Ale, phone.” you say, just to annoy her.

“¡lo sé!” you hear thrown at you, as you head downstairs to set some food out for Billy-the-Goat, and make a coffee for your dying wife.

Soon after, you feel her presence behind you as you stir her coffee, turning as you feel her hands wrap around your waist and presenting her coffee and she takes it from you as though it's a ballon d’or. She takes a sip before she presses a kiss to your head.

“That was my agent.”

Your heart drops, and you can’t help the petulant whine that leaves your lips.

“No, Ale! I wanted to spend the day together. Try that new brunch place Alba told us about. Have a swim, just be together. Whatever brand needs you can wait. Tell them no, please” you finish your little monologue with a pout, and you feel a childish frustration rise as a laugh teases against her lips. You don’t get very far when a kiss is pressed against your lips.

“Well that sounds like the perfect hangover cure Mi Amor. Do you not want me to tell you what it is before I tell them no though?” there's something in her taunt, a glint in the eye that makes you think twice as your mouth already wraps around the refusal.

You take a moment too long apparently, and she takes things into her own hands as she clutches her coffee happily and spins around, “I’ll tell them no! Don’t worry Mi Amor…” teasing lilt in her tone. Whatever the news is, it has pulled her from her hangover.

You wait a beat

Another.

“Fine, What is it!” you groan out in defeat, hands raised to the sky, Alexias t-shirt riding high on your thighs as you raise your arms.

Your wife turns and is distracted momentarily by the flesh on display. Before you cough and she remembers what she's supposed to be doing. Coy smile on her face returning.

“That was my agent…” you huff out at her drawing out the anticipation. “Or should I say our agent.” your brow furrows in confusion as she continues… “she has been contacted by a muy interesado oso.”

Realisation starts to dawn on you, memories of the previous night flashing in your mind and you can’t help the grin that forms.

“Si, Mi Amor. It turns out he really meant it. She said they were willing to offer anything to get you on. She’s getting the details now and will contact us again after our day together today to see if you are interested”.

“I am interested!” you exclaim with glee, Alexia throwing her head back in laughter.

“I know Amor, but let's let them sell it to you. You need the details. Though… I am sure it is no more dangerous than ojos de vodka.”

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

“Hola, love!” you shout into your empty hallway, hands full of groceries, you shuck off your trainers, hearing them thump against the wall as you struggle into the kitchen.

Tonight was the premiere of “Man Vs Woman” , the special episode of your and Bear's adventure. After the offer was made you met with the TV production company via Zoom to go through ideas.

You pretended you didn’t know Alexia was standing just outside the door to your study, listening and clearly deciding if she thought it was too dangerous or not. At least that's what you deduced from her interrupting with a cup of tea every time a particularly hairy idea was mentioned.

When you brought this up with her you pretended you didn't see her blush creeping up from her neck. Because you’re her wife and it was the wifely thing to do.

The concept was a really cool one. You were excited from the start. The idea was that you and Bear would both be dropped in an inhospitable environment with a map and a knife and nothing else. Neither of you would be told what type of environment but you had assurances in your contract that it wouldn’t involve snow. You had 28 days to get to the muster point. Whoever got there first won.

Simple.

Convincing Alexia it was really cool. Less simple.

“Amor what if there are animals!”

“I know how to avoid dangerous animals. And there will be a medical team on standby,”

“What if you fall and cut yourself on your knife."

“What if you get tackled and break your leg?”

“That's different. What if you lose your map and can’t find your way out and you have to live out there forever”

“I will always find my way back to you.”

“What If-”

“Ale.”

You stopped her rambling with a kiss and when you pulled away you looked deeply in her eyes.

“Que pasa I miss you too much?” eyes wide and vulnerable.

There we go. Her real source of anxiety.

You had spent more time apart than most couples but since you scaled down your travels you had fallen into a sweet domesticity you could admit was a struggle to pull yourself from. 28 days plus the week before to get to the location is longer than you’d like. But it was an adventure of a lifetime. Maybe… maybe your last adventure? The thoughts had been creeping in more and more recently.

Of early mornings chasing more than sunrises, maybe rising due to a baby's babble instead?

You’d made sure that Alexia really knew how much you’d miss her the night before you flew out. On reflection maybe you should have rested your muscles a little more before such a physically demanding month but. Be serious. Look who your wife was.

You are not God's strongest soldier.

So, off you had gone. Competing against your childhood hero for all of womanhood. And you couldn’t lie. You loved it.

Being blindfolded and dropped in an unknown location was exhilarating. Learning the land as you went, with only a map and a knife in hand it was one of the biggest challenges of your life.

The team had made good on their promise and the tropical rainforest you were in couldn’t be further from a snowy mountain range.

You’d refused to let anything slip to Alexia in the 3 months you’d been back. Lips tightly sealed no matter what she tried. You wanted her to be surprised and watch it in real time with you. In all the games you'd attended since you had to deal with an injured Mapi yapping your ear off whilst you tried to concentrate on the game, probing for hints about if you won, what you won, where you were, if you wrestled a snake, how big was the snake you’d wrestled.

“Maria stop with the snake!” you’d finally snapped during the tense quarter final of the Queen's cup.

Which had worked.

For all of two seconds.

“What did the snake taste like?”

You’d originally planned to go home to England with Alexia to watch the premier with your family. But then a schedule mess-up in the league had meant that Ale had to play in a rescheduled game the day after the premier. It just didn’t work for her to come to England.

She insisted you still go, but you refused. You wanted to watch her game. And you knew she’d need you when the show was on. Even if she didn’t know that yet.

You started to unpack your groceries mindlessly, you’d picked some great snacks for the evenings viewing, you suddenly were hit with how suspiciously peaceful your house was, though, you were sure you’d seen Alexia's car in the drive.

“Ale! Love!, ¡Estoy en casa! Come help me unpack!” You shouted into your empty kitchen, back turned to your living room, you had a few hours before the show was on air, “I got that ice-cream you like! I know it gives you a tummy ache sometimes but don’t worry, I'll rub your tummy how you like afte…”

“Amor!”

You turned around at the panic in her voice, “Wha–”

“SURPRISE!”

Ale stood in your living area, face reddening, surrounded by her closest Barca teammates as well as Mario, his ever pregnant wife and his kids, your mum and brother as well as Eli and Alba. Everyone comically in paper party hats and some lop-sided bunting was up above your couch,

“HOPE YOU BEAT THE BEAR SNAKE!” it read, and you immediately knew who was on the decoration committee.

You jumped in surprise, dropping the ice cream and immediately ran into your mum's open arms, “Mum! You’re here!” you squealed into her neck, hiding the tears that had appeared in her presence.

“I am, love. Alexia literally wouldn’t let us refuse the flight. She pretended she didn’t understand English when we tried to at least pay for it. And you know I have a 265 day streak on duolingo but my accent must need work because she didn’t understand my Spanish.”

You pulled yourself from her neck with a wet laugh and transferred yourself into your wifes open and familiar strong arms. “Aleeee” you whined. She knew you meant thank you. And I love you. And you mean the world to me. But you were too British to do that infront of people.

“You need to stop pretending you don’t speak English when you don’t like what you hear.” you muttered without malice after placing a kiss below her ear.

“I know amor. I love you too. And your family needed to be here for your big moment! You couldn’t miss this with them because of me. And then also. Mapi happened and now we’re having a viewing party! There's a cake!”

“And Ice Cream Ale! Don’t worry, I’ve saved it! Though we don’t want your barriga to hu-” Mapi stands the space you'd just vacated holding up the abandoned and slightly battered carton of ice cream. She's stopped from her gleeful teasing by Ingrid covering her entire face with one big palm.

“We wanted to be here to support you.” Ingrid interrupted her girlfriend, addressing you kindly.

“We all did!” you hear from Alba in the back, already tucking into the buffet set up on the coffee table, paper hat skew-whiff on her head. You have never felt so loved. It was perfect.

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

“So, when are you going to tell her you’re ready for them?”

You are brought out of your daydream by Ingrid sidling up to you and addressing you with her familiar soft lilt.

“Huh?”

She doesn’t reply vocally, just nods her head towards your wife, who is currently having a very intense game of 2v2 in your garden with 2 of Marios youngest and Mapi.

The kids little legs making them toddle around after the small ball adorably, Mapi and Ale giving soft touches they would easily catch up with.

You can’t help but laugh out loud as Ale takes Mapi by surprise and takes a shot against her hard, the ball catching her bare thigh in a manner which must have left a sting much to the small Spaniard's disdain.

Her and the two kids start to chase Alexia around the garden, dramatically tackling her as she suddenly becomes some sort of football monster, rolling around and blowing raspberries on their stomachs as Mapi cheers her toddler army on from the sidelines.

You feel another knock against your arm, dislodging your hand which is supporting your head as you lean over the breakfast bar facing the garden. Lovesick looks clearly on your face, going off Ingrid's coy smile.

“You know, barn. Kids. Munchkins…”

“Yeah, Yeah I get it Ingrid…” you steal another look outside at your more-often-than-not-stern wife getting grass stains on her comfy shorts for the entertainment of your best friends' kids, suddenly you feel like being really really honest. You turn to Ingrid with a shy smile of your own, “soon.”

Her face lights up, teeth on display unable to disguise her smile. “Yeah?” she asks, before turning to look towards the garden, “Me too.”

You smile to yourself and drop your head onto the dark haired girl's shoulder, you both taking a moment to watch your partners play with the kids. The moment is ruined by your mum mussing up your hair on her way past,

“Come on Love, we need to wrangle these last-minute spaniards, it starts in 10 minutes!”

She had a point to be fair. A very chaotic 8 minutes later you practically push Eli into her seat on the couch after she tries to get another plate full of food for Mario’s wife, “¡Está llena de Eli! ella esta embarazada no tiene hambre!” you cheekily remind her, your wife looking up at you from her place on the floor with tender eyes.

“And you…” you turn your attention towards her as you make your way to your seat, “get up here.” you demand, patting the empty space next to you.

“I’m bueno down here Mi Amor, me and Bruno can watch from down here.” she insists. the 4 year old of Marios nestled on her stomach, her arms wrapped around his sleeping form where he attached himself to her after being forced back inside.

You hesitate for a moment, not watching to make a scene or be too needy in front of all your closest family and friends, but you knew that Ale would need to be within touching distance of you in the next hour.

You’re about to make your peace with it when Mario glaces your way. You and Mario have worked together for years. Years before you met Ale and the girls.

You’ve battled more than just bears together. Weeks spent isolated in the mountains. And a bond like that means that you can communicate with just a look.

With just that glance he’s up and pulling his toddler into his own burley arms. Bruno remaining in his deep sleep through the change.

“I’ve got el monstruo Ale. Go sit with your wife."

She doesn’t need any more direction, the small interaction is subtle and missed by everyone, except your brother who sends you an exaggerated puppy dog look.

“Fuck off” you throw at him, finger in the air, quickly grabbed by Alexia, “Hey, I thought you wanted me to sit here!” she teases, sending your brother a wink.

“Stop ganging up on me…!” you’re about to protest further before you’re shushed by Mapi, of all people, sitting on the floor between Ingrid's legs who sits on the couch above her. “It's about to start!”

She has a point, a familiar British accent fills the living room, Spanish subtitles appearing on the bottom of the screen for the Spanish contingent. Bear’s voice is as dramatic as ever, long sweeping scenes fill the screen of intense jungle, a crocodile and an action shot of a snake thrown in for good measure.

“Serpiente!” Mapi shouts, pointing at the screen, before Ingrid hushes her and pulls her back against her legs.

“We all know by now that humans are masters of the jungle. But the unanswered question remains. Is it the King, or Queen of the Jungle? Find out tonight in Man V Woman.”

The title fills the screen with a dramatic crescendo of music. Your friends and family whooping as though it's the champions league final. Alexia barely contains her excitement next to you. You had been steadfast in your refusal to tell anyone the outcome.

The next shot is a recognisable one, the sound of trees being hacked with a machete accompanies a close up of a muddy puddle set deep in the jungle, until the water is disturbed by a ever-familiar battered boot stomping in the puddle, blaugrana laces pulled tight, as proudly as ever.

This prompts another wild round of jeering from the crowd around you as the camera pans out and reveals your full profile as Alexia places a loving kiss onto your shoulder, “That's my wife!” she shouts, proudly, making you laugh.

Bear's voice over continues as you pull Alexia's hand into yours, half pulling her on top of you, she gives you a peculiar look, this being more PDA than you would usually allow in front of your English family, but she goes with it, too full of pride to be worried otherwise.

As the voiceover continues, highlights of your career flash across the screen to introduce you to the audience.

Mountains in Peru, Arctic Explorations, Treks across Siberia, all flash across the screen, mixed in with childhood pictures your mum must have supplied painting a picture of your career so far and your expertise in your career.

The music turns more dramatic as you shift uncomfortably, being the only one to realise in the room what's about to happen.

A picture of you smiling with Arjan at the peak of Everest, ice picks raised proudly in the air. You feel Alexia stiffen on your lap, ever so subtly. Stock footage of snow hurling down a mountain as Bear describes the avalanche you got trapped in.

He gives out stats and figures to heighten the drama… “your chance of survival drops 3% every minute you are trapped after the first 15 minutes… being trapped for 2 days… our guest star did the unthinkable…”

The room is bathed in a white light as the screen changes. Camera shaky and audio changing to the shouts and heavy breaths of whoever the body worn camera is strapped too. “Yahām̐, Yahām̐, she is here!”

The camera catches Arjan digging desperately, it's clear now the camera is strapped to a rescuer on the slopes of Everest, the TV production company having access to the footage through a sister company who were filming a documentary about altitude rescue at the time.

It shakes as the man helps dig, grunts of exertion as the spade digs desperately. A flash of colour and your snow suit is revealed, face pressed up against the rock you had found shelter near.

Arjan clears snow from your face desperately and puts his head close to yours, “She’s breathing!” he pulls you up and your hand, satellite phone frozen in place, falls from the side of your ghostly white face as the camera fades out.

The whole segment couldn’t have lasted more than 32 seconds. But it had felt like time had slowed. You could feel from her placement on you that Alexia hadn’t taken a breath. Her eyes remained wide as she stared at the screen.

There was a heaviness in the room around you.

The voiceover continued, explaining the challenge to the audience but the silence continued. Eli glances at her daughter worriedly, every few seconds.

Just as you thought the tension couldn’t get any more intense… “That's what Alexia looks like when she visits England for Christmas and mum won’t let us put the heating on.” your brother jokes, awkwardly, a crooked smile on his boyish face.

The room is silent, your mum hiding a smile behind a hand only you notice. He goes to speak again, probably to apologise when-

Alexias' laugh shocks even you, bubbling up from deep within her chest. She closes her eyes, a stray tear escaping at the pressure. Laugh still rumbling deep in her chest, slowly the room joins in, as though they’ve been given permission, and soon your in a choir of laughing spectators, your brother blushing deep red at the attention.

“Thank you” you mouth to him across the room, as you wrap your hands around your wife, whos body still shakes with the odd giggle.

He tips an imaginary hat at you in return.

Because he is an idiot.

The challenge begins, unhelpfully, with you throwing yourself out of a helicopter into the rainforest, “Oh Dios Mio” she mumbles, heard subtly under Mapis, “Cool!”.

You press your lips against her shoulder again and mutter into her skin; “I am here, I am warm, I am Safe.” Like a mantra, you feel her nod and grip your hand tighter.

The thing about being in the environment completely opposite to an avalanche inducing mountain range, was that it was hot. Hot and wet. The camera follows both you and Bear as you struggle through the elements seperatly, deciding when to camp down and preserve energy and when to try to gain more miles.

Bear goes hard, and Mapi looks up at you aghast as you decide to build a shelter and bunker down for seven days straight. The heat zapping any energy you had.

“What are you doing! It's a race!” she exclaims, to which you laugh and zip your mouth closed with your fingers, cocking an eyebrow at her as she eagerly looks back towards the TV like a small child.

You spend two days collecting water and, seemingly, according to Mapi, wasting time cutting palm leaves and collecting bark to make twine. Meanwhile Bear is hacking down trees, making spears out of sticks and rock and throwing himself at seemingly anything that would give him a bit of protein on the move.

You’ve ridden yourself of most of your clothing due to the heat. Smothering yourself in mud from the riverbank you were camped next to, you explain to the camera its sun-cream qualities and how it’s safer than clothing as it also protects you from dehydration.

All the while you weave and weave and weave your leaves together, quietly, assuredly.

You explain to the camera; “I am a master weaver. My wife likes it when I plait her hair. Alot. She’s cute. Sorry Ale.” you wink at the camera as your wife groans on your lap and her teammates start to tease her, “Amor! Why!”

“Now. Let's see how this works!” you grin and pull up a large basket to the camera.

The screen shows you scantily dressed, boots safely on a rock in the background, in the river, moving twigs into position to make a run for the fish to swim directly into your basket.

You explain the contraception, set some bait and say your goodnights to the camera, crossing your fingers for a full basket in the morning.

Cheerful music begins as the camera fades back into your campfire, fish on a stick roasting and cooking heavenly, your muddied but smiling face coming into view.

“Bear can eat his roaches and drink his wee. I’ll be here with my fish buffet!” You joke, under your shelter, camera panning to tens of fish in your basket waiting to be smoked.

The next scene shows Bear explaining the protein benefits and the unusual flavours of a witchetty grub as he struggles against the rainstorm.

The music begins to ramp up. Graphics on the screen showing both of your progress. Bear has made much more progress than you. But struggling physically. He’s developed a terrible case of trench foot but was still making steady progress with his machete.

You chose to travel up the river. Walking along its bed you are able to make more direct progress, but it’s more energy draining wading through water. You have, however, had a relatively strong diet over the last 3 weeks.

You’re sitting on the river bed, tending to your basket of smoked fish you’re carrying with you for energy when you suddenly remain completely stock still. Dramatic music begins. Your head raises subtly and then out of nowhere.

“Serpentine!”

A snake strikes at you from the shallows, clearly after your basket, or you, or whatever it can get its fangs in. You react quickly, crouching down to your knees, keeping a low centre of gravity to keep your balance as your right hand reaches into the shallows.

You and the snake strike at the same time, and you throw yourself to the side as you bash a jagged rock against its head.

The next scene shows you taking a mouthful of grilled snake; “Tastes like chicken!” you joke at the camera. Before popping a piece of charred snake skin into your mouth.

You feel Alexia shudder in your arms.

"I'm never kissing you again" she lies.

Mapi slowly turns around, mouth agape, gobsmacked look on her face. “Snake!” she whispers, in disbelief. “You beat a snake!” You can’t help but laugh and lean over to turn her head back to the TV.

“Told you you’d find everything out tonta.”

The map on screen shows the last day of the challenge, Bear's voice over explaining distances to the muster points, as well as geographical challenges. The screen swaps quickly between the two of you, running, climbing and swimming to where you both believed the finish line to be.

You were making good progress, as was Bear.

A close up of a Brazilian flag on the edge of a waterfall.

A close up of you throwing yourself into the river.

Bear gripping a cliff edge and heaving himself up. The camera shows the bottom of the flag pole as he pulls himself up. The camera pans up. And the flagpole is bare.

The screen changes to you.

Standing, still relatively scantily clad in your battered boots, your hiking shorts cut down to short-shorts and thin vest muddied and holey, fish blood staining your arms,holding the flag proudly up in one arm.

The room around you erupts. “She did it!” “¡Jefe de la Jungla!!!!” “I always knew!”, “She killed a snake!”. You find yourself at the bottom of a pile of bodies as Alexia's teammates celebrate in the way they know how. Which is apparently to throw themselves at you in a pile up.

“That's my wife!” Alexia chants proudly from within the pile, laughing gleefully, all earlier angst forgotten.

The screen goes blank, and the image shows you and Bear embracing, laughing as the voiceover continues; “... at least this time. It's a Queen of the jungle… or should I say. La Reina de la Jungla.” Bear quips, as Alexia groans, forever hating her nickname, and the screen cuts to black.

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

It’s hours later, many more plates of food, celebration toasts and questions from Mapi about the snake later. That you're finally in the quiet of your bedroom in your wife's arms.

Your mum and brother are set up in the spare rooms and you have all got plans to meet up with the Alexias family at the game tomorrow before going out for a meal.

Your head is settled on her chest as she plays on her phone above you, struggling to calm down from the evening's events, and as usual, struggling to sleep before a game. You play with her wedding ring on her spare hand. Feeling the cool metal beneath against her warm skin.

You feel her swipe furiously through her phone, getting more agitated as time passes, grumbles that are not-quite words emitting from her chest.

“Hey. Love.” you sit up and pull her phone away. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” she replies, bottom lip out in a pout, pulling her phone back into her hand.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Alexia.” you sigh, “We aren't doing this.. What's got you so…” you look down onto her phone and see. Yourself? It's her tiktok open and you see an edit of the show being played over… “Hot Stuff? Ale. What's this?” you glance at the comments section and see a selection from seemingly anon accounts;

‘I have never understood Alexia more’, ‘I wonder who calls who capi.’ ,‘Capi, your wife's thighs are bigger than yours’.

“Nothing!” she grabs her phone back from your grip… you arch an eyebrow at her which crumbles her resolve in 3…2…

“Fine! It's all over my TikTok. The comments about you. The fans have made these edits. Of you! All, wet and… muscley and… nearly undressed.”

“And you…don’t… like me wet, and muscled and… naked? Cause, love, I have evidenced otherwis…”

“Shut up! Of course I do but you're mine!”

Oh. Realisation dawns on you and you can’t help but smile.

“Don’t laugh!” she grumbles. “You’re jealous….” you tease in a sing-song voice. “I am not jealous!” she insists, “It's just… tu eres mio! And these people are all looking at you”.

“I am,” you agree, with a smile. “But, love. Try being married to Alexia Putellas. Maybe you’ll keep your shirt on at games now.” you tease, making her smile and roll her eyes.

Eyes softening as you pull her phone from her grip and plug it in for her. Settling back into her chest, nuzzling against the warm skin you find there.

“I am so proud of you.” she whispers into the now dark room, placing a kiss on your head. The moment became more serious and tender.

“I love you” you reply, softly, the moment feels weighted, and you’re not sure what makes you do it. Maybe it's the adrenaline of the evening, having completed your life's ambition, or maybe it's the wine you drank.

Though, really, you know it's because of the images of your lanky wife curling herself onto the rug in the living room because Bruno had decided she was the world's best pillow again. But you can’t stop yourself.

“Ale. I want to have kids with you.”

Her hand stops its movement in your hair and she rushes over to turn the bedside lamp back on.

“Que?” she breathes out. Hands finding their place softly on your cheeks, a look of urgency in her eyes.

“I want us to have kids. Me and you. I want that with you. Is that something you’re ready for?” you whisper, eyes looking deeply into hers.

“En serio?” she asks, as though she's afraid of the answer.

You nod in response. Moving your hand to wipe away the tears that have appeared on her cheeks.

“Sí, Mi Amor. Quiero eso contigo. Mucho.”

You're both smiling too much to kiss, but you make a good go of it anyway. And as you bury yourself into your wife's arms. Hands roaming and adrenaline of a decision made rushing through your body you can't help but think.

This is the beginning of the biggest adventure of your life.

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso community

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madeofglittter · 4 months ago

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˗ˏˋ 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 ˎˊ˗　

* ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆* ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆* ⋆ ˚୨୧˚

Pairing : Daeho (Player 388) x !Fem reader

Summary : As the last round of mingle approaches, you hear "2 players!" As the announcement. You expected nobody to grab you, until Daeho suddenly grabs your hand. You soon give him a special thank you after lights out.　

Warnings : mention of death, p in v, unprotected sex, riding, ect

A/N : I re wrote this literally 4 times, as it kept deleting my work so excuse me if this is sloppy.

* ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆* ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆* ⋆ ˚୨୧˚

As the last round of mingle approaches, you stand on the spinning platform. Suddenly, you hear the announcement. "2 players!". You stood there anxious thinking it was going to be your last game as no one would come and save you. That was until you felt a hand come from behind and quickly rush you inside of a room with them. And that person, was Daeho.

"You okay? Are you hurt? Sorry if I grabbed your hand too hard.." he breathed out as he scanned your face. You came closer to him and nodded with a smile on your face. He pulled you in and gave you a gentle soft hug as reassurance your safe with him.

Time skip ...

As you entered the main room, you scanned the room to search for Daeho. "Y/N!! Come here!" You turned around as you saw him. You walked towards him with a smile on your face and sat down next to him on his bed. "Daeho, thank you for grabbing me last minute.. really" you said to him as you gave him a giggle putting your hair behind your ear. He nodded and rubbed on your thigh, gently going up and down.

The air filled in between you two and you quickly thought to yourself about how you were going to thank him. And that's when you got the idea. "I owe you, seriously. How about I repay you, yeah? In a way more.. fun. If thats okay with you.." you huffed out as you looked down to the ground quickly. Your cheeks were burning red, as he stopped rubbing on your thigh.

"Uhm, yeah. Of course I'm down for that. Whatever you have really" Daeho said as he slightly giggled looking away. He knew exactly what you were talking about, and you couldn't help but notice his bulge in his tight pants.

The lights soon went out and you took that as your chance to kiss him. Leaning him against the back of the bed, getting on top of him. You softly kissed him as he bit at your lip while holding your waist and as well holding your back steady. The kiss was warm and soft, and with every pull back you could feel his dick getting harder.

You quickly took off your pants and as well as underwear. After wards taking off your shirt as well. Now leaving yourself naked in front of him all while sitting on him. He looked into your eyes, as he explored your body with his gentle hands and held your waist.

You helped him take off his shirt, and his pants as well. Now leaving both of you two naked in bed. You gave him a look to give him a heads up you were about to insert yourself. He nodded, and with that you took his thick veiny cock into your cold hands and inserted it inside of your wet dripping cunt. You both moaned at the feeling. You feeling him around your walls, including feeling every vein he had. And him moaning at your tight cunt around him. You held onto his shoulders as he guided you holding onto your waist moving you up and down.

You squirmed at his motion and started rolling your hips. Daeho threw his head back as he moaned out, "Fuck, just like that Y/N. I need you so bad". You whimpered at his voice, and started kissing at his neck as he grabbed your ass for support. All while moving up into you, inside and out.

This went on for a few minutes. The both of you were intimate and were breathing heavily on each other. His moans filling your neck, and he gently slapped your ass. Him gasping for air, all while enjoying seeing you ride him.

You gently tugged at his soft hair, as you could feel a knot in your stomach almost coming undone. You breathed out hopelessly, "Daeho, I'm so close baby..". He looked at you and caressed your back, "I'm almost there, give it a few more minutes for me, please?" He said as he grunted between a few words. You nodded and went back to leaving soft hickies around his neck and collar.

With each thrust, you clenched around his cock even harder. He was amazing. He grabbed onto your breasts for support and rubbed his thumb onto your nipples to get you overstimulated. That's when you gave out, and reached your climax. Once he went inside of you for the last time, grabbing your waist, you came undone onto his cock. You teared up and left sweet moans into his ear.

With that, Daeho came undone shortly after. As he huffed out, he looked down to you to make sure you were feeling okay. "You okay princess?" He said. "Never been better." You replied as you adjusted yourself into his cock and layed onto his chest for a few minutes.

* ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆* ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆* ⋆ ˚୨୧˚

I hope you guys enjoyed this :) my apologies if this is short. Also would you guys enjoy AOUAD, AIB, and other shows made into fics? 　

Check my new fic out! :

#dae ho #dae ho x reader #kang daeho #dae ho squid game #dae ho smut #squid game #squid game smut #squid game fic #player 388 #player 388 smut #frontman #junho #seong gihun #thanos

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smileysuh · 9 months ago

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dark protector - TEASER

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”

tw/cw. mentions of past relationship abuse/trauma/cheating, alcohol, bar fights, Cheol gets grazed with a knife, unprotected sex, dry humping, hand job, blow job, pussy eating, fingering, pleasure dom!Cheol, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, size kink/manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, groping, Cheol is a big muscled tattooed man, creampie, birthday sex, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.2k

🍭 aus. tattoo/motorcycle au, nurse!reader, soulmates, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. The tarot deck used in the prologue is ‘The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Guide Deck’ by Kim Krans. I had so much fun exploring a more spiritual-themed plot, the idea of soulmates and spirit guides and such :)

Seungcheol gives you the space to unwind. He doesn’t pester you with questions about the altercation with your ex at the bar, and you’re grateful for it.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks finally.

You shake your head, your eyes dopping to his hands. “You’re hurt though.”

“Just bruised knuckles,” he assures you.

“There’s blood,” you insist. “I’ll-”

“Tell me where your first aid kit is and I’ll grab it.”

You direct him to the cupboard in your bathroom, and he returns with it, setting the case onto your coffee table.

“How’s your shoulder?” you ask as you take out the tools you’ll need.

“Almost better, I heal fast,” he says softly.

It feels good to focus on his wounds rather than your own, and you gently clean the scrapes on his hand. His right fist is pretty badly bruised, and you do your best to treat it. Then you begin to slowly wrap his knuckles, taking your time. Two wraps around his wrist, diagonal across the top to his pinky, under the hand, to the pointer, diagonal-

It’s a nice repetition of motions, and when you’re all done, you lift his hand to your lips, gently pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “All better.”

You look up at Seungcheol, and he stares back.

Then, he slowly moves in, carefully watching your expression. He stops just an inch from your lips, and you can feel his breath on your face. He’s waiting for you to make the final move, for you to be the one with control.

With one last look at your beautiful, dark protector, you close the distance.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.6k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr August 23rd, 2024

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

interact with this post to be tagged, priority given to reblogs/replies cuz tagspace is limited :)

#seungcheol #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol smut #svt #svt smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #scoups #scoups smut #s coups #s coups smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x reader smut

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froggiewrites · 2 months ago

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give me any more crumbs of vampire law and I'll start a revolution in your name. and if you do something for vampire sanji.......... then I'll just have to give you my first newborn

Anon, this request has been turning over in my head since you sent it. The reason it took me so long is genuinely because I got so excited I had too many ideas! There's so many different ways someone can react to undeath, and all of them are so fun to explore. I hope you enjoy this, I had an absolute blast writing it.

A Human's Touch

Pairing: Vampire!Sanji x Hunter!Reader

NSFW

Summary: You've never hesitated in your path before, but your latest quarry attracts you far more than you want to admit. Warnings: AFAB!Reader (gender neutral pronouns used), Mild Angst, Blood Drinking, Biting, Oral (Reader Receiving), Vaginal Sex Word Count: 4.8k

Your quarry tonight appears to be in his early twenties. He’s handsome. Most of them are, really, but there’s something different about him. He’s not just attractive in the way most monsters are, in that dangerous and sharp way that pulls you in. When he smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges, he’s almost…cute. Approachable.

It almost makes him look alive.

You clench your teeth, reminding yourself again and again that he isn’t human. It’s the ones that can pass as normal that are the most dangerous. The ones you feel sorry for, the ones some naive part of you wants to save. There is no saving these monsters. What you do is the closest thing they’ll get to absolution, to peace. It’s not natural for the dead to walk among the living.

You make your way to the bar next to him, flagging down the bartender. You know very well how to play the part of an easy victim: the vacant eyes, the wide smile. This time you act as if you’re already a few drinks in, having taken a quick swig of whiskey from your flask in the parking lot to ensure you smell right. Vampires have an excellent sense of it, you’ve learned, and you don’t want to risk tipping him off.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, and you know you’ve got him.

His smile is like the sun. “I’ve never seen you around here before, angel. What’s your name?”

You open your mouth to tell him the one that matches the fake ID you just flashed at the bartender, the one your car is registered to, the one you’ve been living under recently, but instead you make possibly the biggest misstep you’ve ever made on a hunt. You tell him your real name.

His eyes soften a bit at the sound of your voice, something in them growing fond. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the creature fell in love with you at first sight. How sad that would be. “It’s a beautiful name. It fits you.” You’ve heard that same empty compliment a thousand times from things like him, wearing the faces of beautiful men and women who thought they could reel you in. It shouldn’t move you. But your heart, the wretched traitor, it skips a beat anyway. It believes he means it.

“Thank you,” you murmur, cheeks warming despite yourself. “Do I get to know yours?”

“Sanji. It’s a pleasure.” He reaches for your hand, bringing your fingers to his lips. The brush of them against your skin is so gentle you can almost forget the sharp canines behind them. “Do you have company tonight?”

You lean forward a little, purposefully flashing a bit of skin to draw his eyes to your neck and chest. It works flawlessly. “I don’t know, Sanji. Do I?”

He grins. “You can have anything you want from me, sweetheart.”

He’s going to regret that.

It’s a quick ride back to his place. You generally prefer not to follow vampires back to their lairs (it’s bad for one’s health, generally, to fight a monster on their own turf), but the carpet in your motel room is white, and you don’t want to have to spend hours scrubbing your own blood out of it. You’re hoping that he’ll feel more comfortable in his own home, relaxed enough to make mistakes, to underestimate you as they usually do. You rely on it. Even the strongest human is nothing compared to the weakest monster.

“Make yourself at home,” he offers, after holding the door open for you. A small measure of politeness you aren’t used to. Usually they don’t show that kind of grace to their prey.

“Thank you.” You give him what you’re sure is a heart-stopping smile, one that’s well practiced. He reacts accordingly, smiling back widely, a bit of red coming to his cheeks. You stop short for a moment, entranced by the sight. You didn’t know they could blush. You don’t know a lot about them other than how to kill them. Before you know it, you’re leaning forward slightly, hand reaching for his cheek, desperate to know if they’ll be warm beneath your fingertips. You come to your senses about halfway, hand hanging limply in the air as you both stare at it. It’s your turn to blush as you wretch it back to you. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s alright.” This smile is gentler, kinder. “I’m not one to deny the warm touch of another, or the connection it brings. You don’t have to hold back with me, dear.” You don’t miss the depth of sadness in his eyes, the longing. He wants what he can’t have, what his kind can never provide him. There’s no such connection amongst the dead, amongst predators like them. They aren’t family, aren’t friends. They can’t even really be allies. They’re competition. The most a vampire can be to another is an intrusion on the other’s hunting grounds.

For some reason, you take his hand in yours, leading him back with you. His eyelashes flutter for a moment when you make contact, as though he’s savoring the feeling. His hands are ice, but instead of the normal revulsion the feeling brings you, you feel sorry for him. How awful it must be, cursed to an eternity without the warmth you once took for granted. A foolish thought, but you’re having many of those tonight. The greatest mercy you can give him doesn’t require the pity that’s clouding your mind, or the warmth that spreads in your belly at the sight of him unbuttoning his shirt.

He’s sculpted perfectly, of course. As if you needed another reason to be distracted. You take a deep breath, focusing as best you can. You slide the stake out of your boot (thank god he didn’t ask you to take them off earlier) and pounce as quickly as you can, praying your aim is true. Before you feel the wood plunging into his chest, you feel a hand on your wrist, grip firm but not bruising. Your back is against the bed, your stake is somewhere out of your reach, and there is a vampire on top of you, tying your hands to the headboard with his tie.

When he looks down at you, he has the gall to look genuinely hurt. “I was hoping you would give up on that.”

You can’t help but laugh in his face. “What? You expected me to let you go around preying on the innocent because…why exactly? Because you’re handsome and kind of sad? That’s par for the course, Sanji.” You ignore the fact that you’re still calling him his name now that you’ve dropped your innocent act, that you’re still acknowledging him as a man instead of a monster. It’s better for your pride not to think too much about that.

“Because there’s a connection here, but I guess I should have known you wouldn’t admit it. Prideful things, hunters. Some of you are worse than things like me.” He finishes his knot, taking a moment to admire his handiwork, before he looks down at you. His eyes linger on your neck for just a moment, and you know he’s thinking of how you’ll taste, of the feeling of the life draining out of you. For some reason, he pulls away, standing up and brushing himself off. He picks up your stake with two fingers, holding it away from him and looking at it with a crinkled nose (which is adorable, though you’d die before admitting it). “Did you carve this yourself? It’s nice craftsmanship, though it’s sad to think of such beautiful hands doing such rough work.”

“Worse than thinking about them being used to kill?”

He hums. “No, I guess not.” He drops your stake into the trashcan near the door. You hear the quiet thunk of it hitting the bottom, and you know there’s no way in hell you’re ever getting that back. A bummer. You’d spent weeks carving that. “It’s still a shame, though.”

“What, that I wasn’t an easy kill?” You tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, taunting him. He doesn’t fall for the bait, instead turning away from you with a sigh.

“That the world’s made you into a killer.” He walks toward the window for a moment, closing his eyes to bask in the moonlight. “It shouldn’t be your job to keep monsters in check.”

You tell yourself this is a ploy, that he’s just saying what you want to hear, but something about him seems so horribly genuine. He sounds truly disappointed with the world for taking away your freedom, for placing this burden on you. No one’s ever empathized with your plight like this before. “Well, a lot of things that shouldn’t be are. The world’s not a great place. Someone has to try to make it better.”

His lips quirk up into a soft smile at that. “It’s admirable that you want to do that. You remind me of someone.” For a moment he’s lost in a memory, one that might be centuries old. To the man he used to be, to the people who used to love him. Then it’s gone, grief weighing down his shoulders once again. “But I still think the world is worse off when good people sacrifice themselves and their happiness to try to offset the evils they fight.”

“Well, I won’t have to sacrifice my happiness forever. Maybe I’ll retire.” It’s a lie, of course. The only retirement you’ll get is a set of fangs to the throat, a quick end to the misery.

He chuckles. “You’re a bad liar, too. You really are like him.” He shakes his head, dismissing the nostalgia, instead focusing on the task at hand. “How can I convince you to let me live?”

You purse your lips. “You aren’t living. That’s a large part of the problem.”

He sighs. “How can I convince you to let me keep existing?”

None of them have ever asked you before. “If I say no, will you kill me?”

He looks horrified at the thought. “What? No!”

You blink. “What?”

“Why would I kill you?”

“You’re a vampire, and I’m trying to slay you. This always ends with one of us dead. What, are you new to this?”

“No, I–God. If I can’t convince you to let me go, I’ll just…leave. Go somewhere you can’t find me. And then call someone to come and let you out in a few hours.”

“Call who?”

“I don’t know, the cops?”

“And they find me with several fake IDs and a shotgun in the back of my car? I’ll get arrested.”

He closes his eyes in thought. “Do you have any friends?”

No, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I’m not giving a vampire my friends’ numbers.”

“Do you have your phone on you?” He slides a hand into your pocket, pulling out your phone as you weakly try to wiggle away. He turns it toward you as you try to look away. You aren’t fast enough, and you can hear the telltale sound of it unlocking. Fuck.

He goes through it for a moment, a frown settling on his handsome face. “You…don’t have any contacts?”

“That’s not true!”

“I don’t know who Guns (Legal) and Guns (Less Legal) are, but I imagine they’re not exactly close friends. You really have given up your life for this, haven’t you?” The look in his eyes isn’t pity. It’s far worse. It’s mourning, plain and simple. Grieving the life you could have lived, and the fact that you’ve chosen not to live it of your own free will.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say weakly. “I chose this.”

“I know.”

You maintain eye contact a moment before he looks away, standing and walking away from you. “I could untie you now.”

“I’d kill you.” You don’t know if that’s true anymore.

“Maybe I’d let you.” He places your phone on the dresser before opening the bathroom to look for something. You can see shards of glass on the floor, hear the crunch of them beneath his dress shoes. “But maybe you won’t. Maybe we can just have a conversation, two people who know things no one should have to.”

You bite your tongue at his referral to himself as a person. He’s far more human than any other vampire you’ve met. Maybe even more than some of the humans, if you’re being honest. You’re not particularly prone to honesty these days. “A conversation, huh?”

“Just a peaceful little talk.” He looms over you, reaching towards your wrists. You can see what he grabbed in the bathroom: a bottle of lotion, just in case you had chafed your wrists struggling against the restraint. A small, thoughtful thing. You think he must have been kind in life. “I’ll answer any question you have, and hopefully you’ll be open to answering some of mine.”

You could use this as a way to get information, but you don’t want him to think you’re going to turn it against him. You should, but something in you stops you from leaping off the bed and rushing for your weapon, instead allowing him to gently apply the lotion to your skin. You give him a wry grin. “Alright then. How do you style your hair so perfectly if you can’t see yourself in the mirror?”

He sighs humorlessly, eyes focused on his task. "That's a myth, my dear. As many things people like you think you know are."

"If it's a myth, why do you try to avoid them so badly?" You look pointedly to the mirror above the dresser he's covered with a blanket, not to mention the broken shards that remain of the ones in the bathroom. He looks you in the eye now, and your breath is taken away by a self loathing deeper and more violent than any hate you've ever known. For a moment, the gentle and mild mannered man is gone, replaced with something far closer to the tortured soul you’ve come to expect on your hunts.

"When I was alive, I hated monsters. I was made by one, and I was convinced I would become one someday." He laughs, a soft, empty sound. "I made a friend promise me...promise me if he ever saw me start to walk that path, he'd kill me."

He stands up, beginning to pace in a path he has clearly worn into the carpet beneath his feet. "When I woke up after the change, I knew right away what I was. What I could do. Who I could hurt. And do you want to know what I did?" He stops in front of you, eyes wide and frantic. "I ran. I ran as far as my feet could take me, then a little further than that. All of my talk, my spirit, everything I promised...it was all nothing. Empty words. Because in the end, I was just too scared to die."

You pity him. God, you’re weak. None of your quarries have ever broken down by this, admitted to fear. You thought they were incapable of that sort of animal weakness. Your voice is soft when you speak next, gentle. “It’s only natural to be afraid. It’s only–” You cut yourself off, voice catching.

“Only human?” He finishes for you, his words dripping with bitterness. “I tried telling myself that, but I think I can finally be honest. I’m just a coward.”

“I don’t think a coward would untie one of the only people in the world that could kill him, Sanji. I don’t think a coward would spare me when killing me would be so much easier.”

He cringes. “I don’t–Killing people isn’t easy. And it shouldn’t be.”

You pause. “You–you don’t kill people?” A vampire pacifist. Now you’ve really seen everything.

“I don’t murder. I’ve defended myself, sure, but I try not to hurt anyone.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Maybe it’s just something else I’m scared of.”

“I don’t think that’s it. I think a lot more things like you kill out of fear than spare people for it. Maybe you’re just…a good guy.” An insane thing to say, and an even more insane thing to believe. But you do, really. When you look into his eyes they aren’t the empty black pits you’ve seen in so many other bloodsuckers. When you look into his eyes, you truly think you see his soul. You have no idea how he kept it after the horrible, gruesome fate he’s been forced into, but it’s there. You half expect there to be a beating heart beneath his chest.

He looks up at you, shock evident. “Do you really mean that?”

“Somehow, yes.” You shift forward a bit, leaning toward him, taking the sight of him in. The shining blue eyes, his blond hair reflecting the moonlight from the window and the shitty too-bright fluorescents of his apartment, the pallor of his skin. He almost looks like an angel, cast out from heaven. Forced to wade among the muck and grime of humanity, a world he was never meant for.

“I want to be,” he mutters.

“Good?”

“A guy. Human. Not...” He can’t even bring himself to say it, gritting his teeth when he tries to force out the word before giving up. “You know.”

You can feel your eyes soften as you look at him. “I really wish I could help you with that.” And you mean it, really. You wish you could save him.

“Maybe you could.”

“Hm?” Your eyes flick up, and you see something shining in his eyes that you don’t quite recognize.

“You could help me feel alive again, even if only for a while.” He approaches you slowly, no threat in his stance. “Make me feel like my heart’s beating again.”

“And how would I do that, exactly?” This is the strangest way you’ve ever been hit on.

“Just…feel something. Touch me, please. Treat me like anything other than a monster.” He’s in front of you now, kneeling, his eyes pleading.

“What?”

“I’d prefer you love me, but I’ll take anything. Hate, fear, whatever you’ll offer. Please, I just need something.” He’s on his hands and knees in front of you, eyes wet and glossy. “I can’t be alone anymore. I can’t take this.”

There are tears streaking down his face. You've never seen a monster cry before. Something inside you, something soft and weak that you thought you had buried, whispers that you still haven't. That the thing on his knees in front of you, begging for you, is only a man, bearing his tender parts to you and begging for you to be gentle with them. You don’t know if you’re capable of being gentle anymore.

Your hands move on their own, resting on his cheeks, your thumbs brushing at the tear tracks making their way down his face. He sniffles quietly, as though he still needs to breathe. You almost laugh at the absurdity at it all. You’ve killed dozens of monsters, saw yourself as a hero, a defender of humanity, and all it took to take you down is one pathetic man on his knees. You won’t be angry with him later when his teeth brush your throat, when they tear through your skin and take everything you have. You’re letting it happen, here and now, and you can’t be angry with him for acting within his nature. “I…I can help you. Just for a little bit.”

He looks at you like you’re his salvation. “Thank you, angel. You have no idea what this means to something like me.”

“Someone,” you correct softly, instinctively. You can’t take the word back once you say it, not when you see the look on his face. His hand rises to cover yours, cradling you closer, savoring the feeling.

He inhales, taking in the scent of you, before diving in. His lips brush against yours, softer than they have any right to be. They’re a bit cold, as you’re sure all of him must be, but you can’t bring yourself to mind. He’s slow as he rises, overtaking you and pinning you down. Giving you ample opportunity to run, to come to your senses. You don’t.

The first thrust of his hips makes you gasp, which allows him to slide his tongue into your mouth. He savors the taste of you, exploring every inch as he ruts into you, the friction from the fabric between you making your movements sloppier as you get distracted. Your hands are everywhere: in his hair, running down his chest, grabbing at his ass. Every inch of him is perfect, almost frustratingly so. Some part of you is hoping to find some flaw, something to break the illusion that he’s just a lonely man, but you find nothing. Even the brush of his fangs against your lips doesn’t do anything to stop the lust clouding your mind. Instead of revulsion, the feeling of him nicking your bottom lip to suck on is disturbingly hot. You can’t even tell if you’re actually bleeding; even just the idea of him taking something from you, savoring you, makes you clench around nothing.

You grow so lightheaded your vision almost blacks out before he pulls back. “Sorry,” he pants. “Forgot you need air.”

That traitorous part of you thinks that would have been a nice way to go, all things considered. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly, and he’s not at all trying to hide how he stares at your tits under your shirt. “Is it a little hot in here?” You coyly reach your hands down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, watching his eyes follow your movements. You can see his pupils grow wider, his gaze grow hungrier, with every single inch.

He tries to speak, you think, but the only sound that leaves him is a ravenous growl. His hands reach for your waistband, removing your pants and underwear in a single smooth motion. You tense, preparing yourself for him to plunge in instantly, but instead you feel his nose brush against your skin, his beautiful clear eyes staring up at you in permission. You close yours, overwhelmed by it all. His teeth graze against your thigh. You can feel him smile when you make a small squeak of surprise, can feel his cold breath quicken. His voice is thick with excitement when he speaks. “Will you give in to me?”

You should say no. You should run from here as fast as your legs can carry you. But he looks so pathetic, so desperate, and really, he needs this, doesn’t he? Why shouldn’t you help him? “Yes,” you murmur, breathy and strained. “Yes, take me, Sanji.”

And so he does. You expect the bite first, but Sanji is determined to give you your pleasure before he takes his. His tongue is against you before you’re ready, and you can feel him shiver with excitement when your thighs close in surprise around his head. His nose brushes your clit, causing you to squeeze harder, and this time he openly moans against you. His tongue explores you eagerly, ceaselessly, and you can feel him respond to every little twitch and quiver you make. He listens for every little moan, every hitch of your breath, every single noise leading him closer to finding exactly how to make you climax. His fingers grab at your ass, pulling you closer, practically drowning himself in you.

As he continues, his fingers find your clit, working in tandem with his tongue to bring you over the edge. The pressure keeps building, every muscle in your body growing tense, your thighs threatening to crush his skull, before finally the dam bursts, and you let out a screaming moan that you’re sure the neighbors can hear. He works you through it, tongue continuing to lap greedily at you, savoring every taste. Only once your thighs have relaxed and your back has once again hit the bed does he pull away, gathering your remaining slick with his fingers and popping them into his mouth. His eyes practically roll into the back of his head as he deeply inhales, overwhelmed by the pure essence of you.

“Darling,” he whispers, voice thick with want, “You’re the most delicious meal I’ve ever had.” With that, his teeth plunge into your thigh, the act as gentle as such violence can be. You only feel the sting for a moment before you’re overtaken by a rush of euphoria. The post-orgasmic bliss is nothing compared to this. Every part of you relaxes, even parts you didn’t think could. It feels as though your muscles are unwinding themselves, as though the fibers that make you up are unraveling and falling to pieces in Sanji’s hands. Your body isn’t you anymore, but you can’t bring yourself to be upset over it. This is the kind of peace you’ve been searching for for years, the kind your purpose and drive never gave you. This is the kind of joy that makes you unafraid to die.

You whimper when his teeth leave you, your hands reaching for him, trying to pull him back to you. Surely he needs to drink a little more, even if just for a second. Just another moment of bliss is all you need.

He doesn’t follow your guidance, instead rising to kiss you softly. There’s less heat now, the flames having calmed to a gentle and loving warmth that envelops you from the inside out. “Thank you, angel,” he murmurs. “Let me give you your final reward.”

He nuzzles into your neck, his teeth not grazing you for even a moment. You don’t know when he shed his pants and shirt, but you come back to yourself for just long enough to admire his fully naked and vulnerable form as he’s lining himself up with your entrance. He’s beautiful, every inch of him, with a few inches in particular catching your current attention. You don’t even have time to imagine how lovely the stretch will feel before he slowly and carefully pushes forward, inserting just the tip before stopping.

You immediately whine, clawing at his shoulders, begging wordlessly for him to keep moving. He tuts softly, kissing your cheeks, and you realize you’ve been crying. “Patience, love.”

You have none, uttering a sound that’s close enough to a childish no! for him to get the message. He chuckles, clearly endeared by your vulnerable state, before slowly sliding the rest of the way in, inch by delicious inch. When he’s fully sheathed, he takes a shuddering breath, pressing himself deeper into your neck and taking a long inhale. His hands wander before settling against your back, pulling you toward him possessively. “This is what I need,” he whispers against your skin. “You. You make me feel alive. You make me feel human. You make me feel connected.”

He snaps his hips far faster than you were expecting, stealing your breath away. He quickly corrects himself, setting a slow and steady pace, but you’ve already seen how his self control is slipping.

“Need you,” he murmurs. “Not just now. Not just tonight. Please, stay. Please.”

You don’t know what to say, so instead of answering you simply pull him closer, moaning into his ear as he steadily brings you both to the edge. You lose yourself in the feeling, in him. The slapping of skin echoes through the room, along with his quiet grunts and your increasing cries. As the tension in your body grows almost unbearable, you can feel his hips starting to stutter, his pace starting to falter. With one final, beautiful push, you both come undone as he collapses on top of you, the feeling of you clenching around him proving to be too much. He pulls you impossibly closer, even though there’s no real distance to be crossed. Every bit of your skin is touching his, and you can feel his weight pressing you into the mattress. You aren’t going anywhere. You couldn’t, even if you wanted to.

“Please,” he quietly pleads again, voice breaking. “Please stay.”

“I will,” you whisper back. His arms tighten around you again, as if you’ll slip through his fingertips if he loses his grip for a moment. Maybe you will. Maybe you’ll grab your stake from his trash and drive off into the sunset, accepting your one and only failed mission, running back to the life that lets you run away. But maybe tonight you’ll stay in the first gentle embrace you’ve felt in years, lured in by the irrational feeling of safety it brings you. The gentle circles he rubs on your back and the feeling of his ear pressed against your chest, listening to your heart, almost make you feel alive.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

#sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #x reader #op #one piece smut

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