#then maybe use that time for looking this shit up

[calypso-rt]

bookworm

-> rafe x bookworm!reader

The bell above the bookstore door jingled sharply, and you looked up just in time to see a tall, very damp stranger step inside, shaking the rain from his jacket.

He looked out of place: broad-shouldered and golden-haired, like he belonged on a yacht instead of standing in the doorway of your tiny shop, dripping onto the hardwood floor.

You arched a brow. “You’re getting water on my first editions.”

The guy, Rafe Cameron, you recognized now, glanced down at the puddle forming around his expensive-looking sneakers. “Shit—uh, my bad.” He took a dramatic step to the side, as if that somehow fixed it, then ran a hand through his rain-soaked hair. “I, uh, wasn’t planning on coming in. Just—y’know. Rain.”

You resisted the urge to smile. “Yes, I do know rain.”

Rafe exhaled, half-laughing, like he wasn’t used to people talking to him like this. He glanced around, taking in the towering bookshelves, the warm glow of the reading lamps. “So… what kinda place is this? Coffee shop? Library?”

“Bookstore.”

“Right. That’s what I meant.”

You leaned your elbows on the counter, tilting your head. “Not much of a reader, are you?”

“Uh—” He looked vaguely offended. “I mean, I’ve read, like… some books.”

“Name one.”

His jaw tightened. “Do magazines count?”

You laughed and Rafe looked half annoyed, half intrigued. “Not unless they have plotlines and character development.”

He hesitated, shifting his weight like he was debating whether to leave or stay. Then, as if making a split-second decision, he cleared his throat. “Alright. Sell me a book, then.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “What, right now?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms. “Something I’d like.”

You eyed him, taking in the expensive watch, the cocky smirk he was trying to suppress, the slight impatience in the way he tapped his fingers against his bicep. Then, without a word, you turned, plucked a book from the shelf, and set it down in front of him.

Rafe squinted at the cover. The Great Gatsby.

He snorted. “You picked this ‘cause I’m rich, didn’t you?”

You just smiled, chin propped in your palm. “I picked it because it’s about a man who has everything… except the one thing he really wants.”

That shut him up.

For the first time since he walked in, Rafe didn’t have a witty retort. Instead, he just looked at you like he wasn’t sure what to make of you. Then, after a moment, he picked up the book, flipping it over in his hands.

“Alright,” he said, voice softer than before. “Guess I’ll give it a shot.”

And just like that, a golden-haired, rain-drenched Kook walked into your quiet little world, and, much to your surprise, didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.

...

The next time Rafe Cameron strolled into your bookstore, the weather was perfectly dry. No convenient rainstorm forcing him inside. Which meant he was here on purpose.

You glanced up from your desk, hiding a smile as he beelined straight for the shelves, hands in his pockets, exuding casual confidence... except for the way his eyes flicked toward you every few seconds, like he was making sure you noticed him.

He stopped in front of the classics section, squinting at the titles, then, rather dramatically, pulled out the thickest book he could find.

“War and Peace,” you read off the spine, eyebrows raising.

Rafe nodded, flipping it open like he knew exactly what he was doing. “Yep. I’m thinking… light weekend read.”

You leaned on the counter, amusement bubbling in your chest. “You do know that book is, like, twelve hundred pages, right?”

Rafe smirked. “Yeah. I like a challenge.”

You folded your arms. “Do you even know what it’s about?”

He hesitated for just a second, just long enough for you to tell he absolutely did not, before shrugging. “War. And… peace.”

You bit back a laugh. “Brilliant deduction, Tolstoy.”

He made a face. “Okay, whatever, maybe I just like big books. What, I’m supposed to pick some tiny little paperback?”

“Size isn’t everything, Rafe.”

His bit back a grin like he was fighting off some very Rafe-like response to that statement. Instead, he cleared his throat and flipped to a random page. “I’ll prove it,” he declared. “I’ll read the whole thing.”

You tilted your head, amused. “All of War and Peace?”

“All of War and Peace.” He looked very proud of himself, like he’d just announced he was climbing Mount Everest. “And then I’ll come back and tell you all about it.”

You rested your chin in your palm, eyes twinkling. “I’m holding you to that.”

“Good.” Rafe closed the book with a satisfying thud and tucked it under his arm like a trophy. He turned to leave but then, almost as an afterthought, glanced back at you, smirking.

“Bet you’ll be impressed when I finish.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “I’ll be shocked if you finish.”

Rafe just gave you a wink, pushing out the door, head held high like he’d just won something.

You bit your lip, watching him go.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

...

“You have a predilection for making a mess,” you mused, watching as Rafe leaned back in his chair at the counter, arms crossed, an empty coffee cup in front of him: his third of the morning.

Rafe blinked. “A what?”

“A predilection.”

He squinted at you. “Is that, like… a disease?”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “No, it means you have a habit of doing something. A preference.”

“Oh.” Rafe nodded, like he totally got it. He absolutely did not get it.

Moments like these happened all the time. You’d say something, something perfectly normal, in your opinion, and he’d look at you like you were speaking ancient Latin.

Last week, you told him his posture was lackadaisical, and he spent the next three hours trying to pronounce it. Yesterday, you mentioned that his tendency to linger in your store was beguiling, and he just stared at you for a solid five seconds before muttering, “Yeah, well, you’re beguiling too.”

But today? Today was different. Today, Rafe had come prepared.

“I actually knew that,” he lied, shifting in his seat. “I, uh… I absconded that word earlier.”

You blinked. “You what?”

“Absconded,” he repeated, looking oddly proud of himself.

You bit your lip, trying so, so hard not to laugh. “Do you mean absorbed?”

Rafe’s smirk faltered. “…Yeah, that one.”

You let out a giggle, and Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “I knew I was gonna mess that up.”

“No, no,” you teased, leaning forward on your elbows. “Please, continue. What else have you absconded (definition: leave hurriedly and secretly, typically to avoid detection of or arrest for an unlawful action such as theft) lately?”

He shot you a look, then, without missing a beat, grabbed his empty coffee cup and stood. “I’m absconding out of here.”

You let out a full laugh, and he grinned as he turned toward the door.

Before he left, though, he paused, glancing back at you with that cocky, boyish smirk.

“By the way, I predilect you.”

You shook your head, utterly endeared. “That’s not... never mind.”

Rafe just winked. “Knew it.”

A/N: mindless self indulgence

[unpopularly-opinionated]

With this last election specifically (or even 2016's election), an element of this that I feel is important to note is that even if you're not openly shitting on a demographic, that doesn't mean you're supporting that demographic either, especially with regards to politics. And it shouldn't need explaining why it's vitally important in politics to make sure every demographic thinks you're supporting them.

For better or for worse (it's only for worse, let's be honest), politics is just a huge popularity contest, which means yeah, you're going to have to get up there and lie, and bullshit, and give the greatest fucking performance of your life if you want to stand a chance at winning. This is why it's all but impossible to run a campaign primarily on things like LGBT rights, or abortion rights, or any *insert minority issue here* because frankly put: people are dumb.

Okay, maybe that was hyperbolic, but people do have different access points to the news, and short attention spans/busy lives to lead instead of paying absurdly close attention to politics. The point I'm trying to make is this: let's say you see a clip of a candidate showing their support for gay marriage. That's it. That's the sound byte, clip, headline, article, whatever it is you used to consume media at that specific moment. Now, for obvious reasons, this differs from person to person, but some people might be asking themselves: "Well do they support trans people too?" or some might ask: "Do they support abortion?" or "Well what about straight people? Are we being left out?" and it's very important that you realize that regardless of whatever your personal feelings on the validity of each of those questions (or others) might be, they're all valid to the person asking them.

Not everyone has time, energy, or capability to research a candidate's every last viewpoint. It also doesn't help that a lot of candidates are intentionally really fucking vague on a lot of the more hot button issues. This is a part of why a lot of people wind up being single-issue voters, because they quite literally only know a candidate's single viewpoint.

So when you run a candidacy purely on how you're going to help minorities like women, immigrants, gays, trans, etc. against a guy who runs his candidacy on helping the majority alternative to each of those demographics...you're fighting an uphill battle.

And I can't stress enough that this isn't me saying that you shouldn't stand for minority issues. As a minority myself, if everyone just looked at politics from a strictly logical perspective, I would be fucked lol. I mean thankfully I'd manage, but not nearly as well as I have since 2008. But the problem is, even if they're the ones who need the "least" amount of help, you still need to factor the majority into what you're fighting for. Even if it's all horseshit, you need to throw them a bone.

TL;DR: Love it or hate it, but those "straight", "white", "cis", "men" (intentionally kept separate as each is a separate demographic) make up the majority and even if they need the "least" amount of help, you still need to, at the very least, pretend that you intend to help them.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[coolwyous]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you cross your arms. “dining hall?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

“i do,” she nods.

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

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

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

“new prospect?” someone asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“god damn,” the blonde shakes her head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“throws off incoming offense,” your dad responds.

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

“megan’s fast but not—“

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

“and?” you press.

“she’s the captain of their team.”

“and?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“dani.”

“oh, definitely daniela.”

“daniela avanzini.”

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

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

you stare at the comments. 

oh i get it

HI DANIELA (louder than the rest)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

“what’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“they cut me off when i was 18.” 

“why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you laugh. “i have that too.”

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

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

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

you breathe out softly, trying to connect the dots. 

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

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

“are they?” she wrinkles her nose. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“thank you for driving me.”

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

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

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

you have a crush on daniela avanzini. 

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ending score: 3-1.

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

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

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

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

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

“to be a punching bag?”

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

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

“because it was her call.”

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

“then hopefully avanzini finds it worth it.”

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

“bad idea,” she says quickly. 

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

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

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

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

“yeah, busy avoiding me,” you push.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what if i like pissing you off?”

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

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

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

“i like the attention,” she reiterates.

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

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

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

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

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

“says literally everyone,” she laughs lowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“no girlfriend tonight?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

or rather, who. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“nice shot, kazuha.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hm, i can tell.” you say back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

come over

say please

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that is, until you hear the door swing open.

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

oh fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

“complicit,” dani corrects quickly

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

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

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

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

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

“how long?” the ginger asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“anything. what’s your favorite color?”

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

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

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

“you remember that i did that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“seriously? with your dad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n, you like me?” she questions.

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

“i thought yunjin was fucking with me.”

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

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

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

“why are you so fucking weird about yunjin?”

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

“people really like you,” you press back.

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

“that’s not true.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“nobody cares about that,” she snorts.

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

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

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

“you guys okay?” 

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

megan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“really?”

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

“that worked out,” you deadpan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

look at what time i made it home. 

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

holy shit. 

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

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

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

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

you can tell this was the catalyst to something terrible.

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

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

oh, this idiot and her big mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“dani?” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your heart drops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hate to be her right about now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“will you stay, please?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your heart pounds at the way her eyes light up.

“even like this?” she questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

1-0, and no easy feat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“so don’t accept,” you state simply.

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

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

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

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

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

“crazy knows crazy,” you laugh.

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tutor girl texts you immediately. 

holy shit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“avanzini, my fucking office, now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you freeze. oh christ.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you see dani and your dad tense simultaneously. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it’ll be the first of many.  

-

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

“uh, hi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re always aggressive,” she laughs. 

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

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

“you’re so good.” you hum happily.

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

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

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

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

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

“naked, hopefully,” dani quips back quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[melanchoire]

G!p biker wonyoung🤰🏻 I want her big dick inside me so bad

cw: chocking, degradation, public sex (i guess 😭)

wonyoung being the rebellious girl of the school who has a crush on the diligent student!reader, person who doesn’t want to know anything about wonyoung and doesn’t give a shit about anything about her 😭 wonyoung being the typical pretty girl who has half the school at her feet and the other half feeling attracted to her, but wonyoung wants the person who is clearly out of her reach: you

and of course she is a pain in the ass!!

wonyoung would normally maintain her image as a cool girl who doesn't usually talk too much and she has a lethal face card, but sometimes she can get away from her carefree nature because she loves being annoying and loves seeing how it affects you!

but being a complete sweetheart when it comes to her bike because that’s wonyoung’s baby ☝🏻 she is super careful about her vehicle, always parked correctly in the school parking lot, making sure that no car or other motorcycle is within a dangerous distance that could scratch her bike, going to the parking lot every chance she gets to check on her bike, she treats it like a baby! and technically it is, because if one day something happens to eonyoung’s motorcycle, that day she would cease to exist

so yes, if she starts to take an interest in you after you catch her eye, you would become her second baby! and who knows, maybe her number one priority if you manage to win that over

sorry but wonyoung is a pervert here 😶 flirty and daring CALL IT WHATEVER YOU WANT but she has no problem giving you the occasional flirt or dirty comment

LIKE she would always try to get you to accept her offers to take you home, subtly insisting and always being kinder and gentler with you unlike her usual cocky behavior with the rest of people, but you always end up rejecting 💔 wonyoung making so many illusions and scenarios in her head that she often imagines a time where you accept her offer and just by chance, where it’s a cold winter day where she can lend you her jacket just because! another of wonyoung’s babes; her leather jacket. she is completely careful with it too! always taking all the time in the world to wash it and using the most expensive and best products because she doesn’t want to ruin her precious jacket. so yes, she would love to see you in it

imagine that on a stormy day you’re returning home after a long and tiring day of school, walking in the rain with your umbrella in hand until you hear the engine purr next to you and you don’t even have to turn around to know who it is

“do you need a ride home?” wonyoung would say, tilting her head as she parked next to you

“it’s raining, wonyoung. i’m not going to get on your bike and get wet.”

“rain or shine, you would get wet being with me anyway. so can i take that as a yes?”

you can’t see her face but you swear there is a grin on her face

until one day wonyoung finally gets what she wants! somewhat cliché but you agree to help her with her studies because even though she is somewhat annoying you felt sorry for her low grades, so without hesitation you gave in to trying to create a new version of her

but she doesn’t change at all 😮‍💨 manspreading on the chair with her elbows on the table and resting her chin on one of her hands, looking at you intently with lustful eyes while you explain the topics given in the semester but the gaze that is always fixed on your face seems to fall from time to time to your lips??

“wonyoung, are you–?”

“just shut up.” ohhh, and she takes your face in both hands and kisses you 😵‍💫 you would try to put up a little resistance or pretend to be mature but honestly, wonyoung turned you on in a certain way and you couldn’t deny such an opportunity!

although wonyoung seems to want to fuck right now 😭 making you stand up from the chair and guiding you until your lower back hits the table, trying to climb on top of you on the table but snorts when you try to stop her and make her understand that it’s not a good idea to fuck in the school library ☝🏻

she doesn’t give a damn because she ends up doing it anyway! leaning you over the table and taking you from behind, fucking you like you guys are in some kind of motel or something 🥰 wonyoung was ramming her cock so roughly into your pussy that little by little the table beneath you started to creak or squeak, making you fear about being caught in a situation

she solves! so she makes you get up from the table, sneaking a hand down the valley between your tits and closing her hand on your neck, using her free arm to wrap around your waist and push you back to press you further against her body, giving you zero escape from this

and she grunts and groans against your ear in a way that would easily make you cum right now 🫠whispering the dirtiest things possible to you, making fun of you for always acting hard to get but being an easy slut and giving in to her after a few simple kisses, degrading you for letting yourself be touched like this in a public place by a girl you always claim to “hate”... wonyoung is much worse when she notices how your walls tighten around her cock more after each time she talks dirty to you, enjoying how her treating you like a whore seemed to make you wetter and wetter…

cumming inside you and moaning as she buries her face in the crook of your neck, sinking her cock deep into you and shooting all her cum straight into your belly, filling you completely and to the brim with her seed 😵‍💫 releasing the grip of her hand on your neck, letting you take a breath and enjoying how you have to plant your hands on the table to hold your body up because you were completely destroyed and exhausted

wonyoung taking you to her dorm after a real study session, promising to fuck you like she is been craving for so long 💕 and who knows, maybe she will give you double the enjoyment if you only wear her leather jacket when joining her in bed

[thepitlanepress]

THE HEART WANTS WHAT THE HEAD HATES –

↳ lando norris + ex!gf!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: i've had this one sentence running around in my head and decided to write an entire fic off of it so enjoy! (also the last part of the smau will be out soon!!)

the tension between you and your alarm clock right now is something the poets could write about.

it was set to go off at six am and you accordingly had woken up at five-fifty-eight.

so the last thirty seconds of your life has been filled with unimaginable tension. who will cave first, you or the alarm clock? the alarm clock obviously, you were happily content to sleep through it - which wasn't going to go down well, seeing as you'd be late for work.

but maybe that would be good too, so you wouldn't have to see him.

you wouldn't have to look at his stupid face or his hair or his smile as he walked through the halls of the mclaren hq, blissfully unaware of you and your inner turmoil.

you hadn't seen lando norris in person in two years, which is surprising seeing as you both worked for mclaren.

you hadn't seen him ever since you walked out of his apartment and left your life and heart in tatters as you did so. since the night he watched you leave, when he didn't stop you, when he let you walk out of his life, leaving him in pieces.

you had thrown yourself into work, making your way around the globe for races but putting yourself in every situation where lando wasn't, ignoring your stupid heart, and living with your head. if you had listened to your heart, you would still be fighting that day.

wishing he called.

wishing he stopped you.

wishing you hadn't walked out.

wishing you understood what you had done.

but you're not, because you've moved on.

you had moved on.

lando had run away from the situation as much as you had, not showing up to hq unless absolutely necessary and if he did always taking the long route, same in the garages. at that point in your lives he had memorised your schedule as much as his own and used that knowledge to avoid you at all costs.

you couldn't blame him though, it was your fault.

he wanted to tell the world you were together and you didn't, your solution? don't be together. in retrospect it was the worst decision you'd ever made but you like to pretend it wasn't and focus on moving on.

clearly you did well... adjacent. you didn't want to burst into tears whenever you saw him anymore but you also couldn't shove down the burn that wraps around your heart every time you think of him.

today's terrible moment, as you liked to call any interaction you couldn't avoid with lando, was when you stepped into the boardroom and crashed into a wall.

okay it wasn't a wall. it was oscar, who also stumbled and tripped over the leg of a nearby chair causing an array of limbs to hit faces and a shit tonne of paper work strewn across the room.

of course it ended with you on the floor next to oscar groaning and wincing as you sit up.

"i am so sorry," you say turning to the driver still on the floor.

"don't worry about it, it was only an accident," he reassures and accepts zak's outstretched hand getting up. that only brings your attention to the hand in front of your face-

lando's.

you look up at him for a moment noticing the concerned look on his face that is quickly wiped with humour. "you alright?"

quickly bracing yourself for his touch, you take his hand and get off the floor, offering him a quick "thank you," before turning around and collecting the paper everywhere.

you try not to think of the tingle in your hand and how that was the first time in two years you had talked or touched, instead worrying about how much paper you need to pick up.

the paper thats what you think of.

not the hurtful - but true - words lando said that night.

not the awful - and wrong - things you said.

not how you hurt him.

the paper.

not how you wished you could take it back.

the paper.

"y/n."

"shut up lando."

the paper.

"don't go please, we can work this out."

"how? how can we?"

the paper

'i'll wait, i'll wait, i'll-"

"i won't. you can go back to your fuckboy life without me."

the paper.

"please, y/n."

"no."

the paper.

"you're just scared. you're acting like a pathetic child because you're scared."

"i'm brave enough to walk away right now."

"you dont have to though, you're taking the easy way out. you're acting like a child. grow up."

the paper.

tears burn in your eyes, threatening to overflow and yet you keep a stoic face clearing your throat and pasting a bright smile on your face, turning around and cracking a joke about how you can never seem to stay on your feet.

you don't talk to lando again in the meeting, eyes skimming over him and focusing mostly on oscar and zak and the discussions going around the boardroom.

you feel his eyes on you though. you feel his stare and you hate it. you hate it because you want it on you more.

after the meeting you leave the room like your ass is on fire getting out of the building and heading home before any one decides to look at your face and see that you're about to cry.

"wait, y/n."

you stop still on the edge of the road refusing to turn around and acknowledge the voice. you've already stopped so thats pointless, he knows you've heard him.

"wait," you can hear him approach, his footsteps thudding on the ground. "hey.," he says slightly out of breath, "are you okay?"

sighing you turn around to face him. "i'm fine," you smile, the tears threaten to start falling again. "really, i fall down all the time, you remember-" you cut off and look up sighing again.

"i wasn't asking about that," lando says his eyes trying to search for yours. "you looked like you're about to cry in there. i was asking if you were okay."

and you're stupid heart is done.

"i'm fine lando."

"are you sure?"

"i'm fine."

the same fine you were when less than a week after you walked out, lando was pictured with a girl hanging off his arm. the same fine you were when he was rumoured to be dating a supermodel a week after that.

the same fine you've been for the last two years.

the supermodel rumours were false, they were disproved when she came out and hard launched her boyfriend. lando on the other hand has been in his - as the fans call it - "bachelor era" since then, girls after girls, the rumours never ended.

"you're not fine, y/n."

"i've been fine for the last two years without you lando, i dont need your help now."

with that you turn and walk away, walk away just like you did two years ago, getting in your car and sitting in the silence, basking in your own personal torment. its your own pain, your own hurt and its your own fault. you can't blame anyone other than yourself.

so you're stuck.

you're heart breaks every time you walk away from lando but your head clears, the inner turmoil eases for a moment.

your head and your heart.

you're over it.

you're over it.

you're over him.

right?

[brainrockets]

A few years ago, I had a really bad RSV bout. I also have asthma and chronic allergies and like used to get bronchitis like annually. (Pre Covid times by a bit) I went to the doctor. My usual doctor office was also a teaching clinic, so I get a lovely new doctor who is cheerful and shiny like a new penny.

He starts going through the basics. I am deep into I am not getting all the oxygen I need territory, which is sadly not that unfamiliar for me. I don't recall what measure caused his reaction anymore, my O2 saturation or maybe a peak flow meter test that was garbage, but his face will stay with me forever.

He was extremely alarmed. Too new to have a poker face. Just, looked at me like i might keel over in front of him. He was like, hang on, i need to check with my supervisor. I think i reassured him that I'd probably perk right up with a nice breathing treatment. Because it wasn't MY first time.

Like 45 seconds later he's blasting back in with the lovely albuterol breathing treatment. Which was extremely helpful. As predicted. Love being able to get some lovely oxygen into my lungs.

Scared that man real bad tho. To be fair to him, the numbers were quite bad. Which is why I came in in the first place instead of handling that shit myself.

Doctor: What do you see in this X-ray?

Students: *collective gasp*

Doctor: Please don’t do that in front of patients.

[enhani-ki]

love at twenties ? - reader x ni-ki

warnings : suggestive content, explicit language, etc.

note : you can also read [snitch] first before reading this.

for all the years you've known each other, ni-ki likes to say the dumbest things just to see you smile. he would always do shit in because he knew that would make you playfully hit his arm, and shake your head at him, or you would struggle to hold back your giggles.

and if there's one very specific moment when he realized he has feelings for you, it had to be the day you showed up at his house wearing those tiny little shorts.

you're comfortable, legs were stretched out on their couch, smooth and toned, really impossible for anyone not to look. your toes were painted red, tapping on the cushion, and for some reason, it made his throat feel tight.

sure, he likes to make everyone comfortable and laugh with him but he also knew now that you weren't just his friend or his sister's best friend.

now, you've... grown.

he didn't know what to do with that realization 'cause he had always been a little shy to you.

he would always ask his sister first if she had eaten, just so it wouldn't be too obvious that he really wanted to know if you also ate already or he would buy snacks if he knew you'd be around, ones they didn't even like. "i don't eat these," his sister would pout. while you're there, eyes lighting up in excitement. ni-ki will smile slightly, knowing exactly they were all your favorites.

he needed for you to notice him.

he started being annoying. he would poke you, cutting into your conversations or blasting really loud music, and just kept trying to get a reaction from you in any way possible.

and to him, you probably thought he was just being a brat or something like an emo teenager. you would sigh, pout, or roll your eyes every time, maybe shove him away sometimes. even with all his antics, you were so nice and patient with him.

you would mess up his hair, brush him off, and you would even kiss his cheek when you're about to leave and go home.

as he age, his body started going through a lot of changes, he grew taller. way taller than you, taller than his sister, just taller than everyone.

his voice also got deeper, his shoulders broadened, and he started to feel like what he always wanted to look like too, but unfortunately for him, it also changed the way you've treated the younger friend.

you don't kiss his cheeks anymore, you don't include him in girls conversations like you used to, you became more careful and you don't seem... nice to ni-ki anymore...

"you're too dumb to enter a beauty pageant," he teased.

you rolled your eyes. "i wasn't even gonna join, i was just voted, you dumbass!"

...oh did he mention that you're also fighting back now too?

but to be fair, you're only treating him different not because of the changes in his appearance, it was also because ni-ki had started making jokes about fucki- uhh sex, and couple other horny stuff.

hello? he's not the only one going through changes, you're growing and you also have those raging hormones too! so every time he's making those jokes, your heart-brain just can't and won't stop going crazy.

and fuck, this is your childhood friend. not to mention, your best friend's brother.

one day, he saw you washing dishes, standing by the sink, and completely unaware of him.

his sister was nowhere to be found so it's just you, wearing a sundress where the hem keeps riding up your thighs every time you move.

ni-ki grinned before leaning against the kitchen counter, just watching you quietly.

oh, thank you God, thank you for whoever invented dresses. it was so short, if he just kneel down, he could peek and see—just a little.

watching your back, he kinda wanted to know what it would feel like if he hugged you on your waist, what if you just let him put his big hands all over you the way he always imagined late at night, alone in his room...

ni-ki bit his lip, then you turned around and jumped, startled.

he saw your boobs bounced when you did-

"you freaking scared me…" you breathed, pressing a hand to your chest.

he raised his brow at you, his face doesn't even look scary.

you frowned slightly. "you need something?"

yes, you but "just… water," is what he muttered instead.

you nodded before glancing at your watch. "i gotta go."

"where are you going?"

"just a date."

ni-ki straightened up immediately and furrowed his brows. "with who?!"

he suddenly didn't want a water anymore.

"huh?" you asked, confused on why he's asking.

"who?" he repeated.

"with the one yo-" you barely got the few words out before he cut you off with:

"who cares?"

later that night, you had to call ni-ki because his sister wasn't answering, probably asleep. you can't just go home drunk so you came back to their house, a little tipsy, he was the one who opened the door.

you lost your balance, and stumbled forward, straight right into his arms.

his hands caught your waist to steady you. your body is pressed against his, it's warm and dizzying but somehow you can't stop giggling in his arms.

ni-ki scoffed after, then smiled as he held you tighter. he asked, "why did you drink?" trying to sound like he was irritated.

you hushed him with a finger to his lips. "shhh. i don't wanna hear your shit."

he sighed, guiding you inside without letting go, walking with you towards the couch where you plopped holding his wrist, just trying and keeping him close.

he put your legs, his favorite legs, on his lap.

you tipped back your head slightly to rest, the tie of the dress slipped off your shoulder, so ni-ki reached out automatically to fix the strap.

"do i look good today?" you asked suddenly.

"…yes," he admitted quietly, "you probably heard that a lot of times today…"

"i did." you smirked, leaning against his arm.

"so why'd you even ask me?" he murmured.

you blinked at him, slow and heavy-lidded. "ju- just to make sure."

just to make sure you actually look good? or just to make sure he knows you look good?

"what if i'm lying?"

"well..." you hummed, smirking, "you're a kid, so-"

"i'm not." he said before pulling you closer. "and fucking stop treating me like one."

"what? now you suddenly wanna be a man or something?" you tilted your head and gave him a naughty smile. you like to tease him even when you're just a bit older than him. "cause you're not-"

he chuckled in disbelief, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek before saying, "oh, y/n..." shaking his head, "you know i'll let you check just how big i've gotten,"

he was serious, both of you were just looking into each other's eyes, faces moving closer and closer together, but then his sister suddenly appeared, rubbing her eyes. "what are you guys doing?" she yawned.

you pulled back, making ni-ki roll his eyes in annoyance.

you looked at him for a moment before standing up without a word, and as you walked away, ni-ki straightened up, his eyes following your figure. he tried to call you out, trying to get you to finish what you've started but you just ignored him.

and when you finally acknowledged your feelings for him, he became unstoppable, he did all the things he always wanted, but still remainedーno, he became even more respectful to his sister.

he didn't barge into your conversations anymore, didn't stay when you wanted spend time with her, he gave you space, and let you have your moments without him but when his sister is not around, he would text you:

(•ө•)♡: come here :p

(•ө•)♡: gimme a kiss

(•ө•)♡: please, i miss you

and would pull you into his room just to make out very quick.

"we should really go somewhere just the two of us." he panted.

"do you wanna go to my place or should we book...?"

he kissed you, "okay, let's do both." before letting you go like nothing happened.

and the first and only time you ever fought is when he thought you weren't claiming him.

like that one valentine's day... he went all out and bought you every single gift that girls were gettingーbig flowers, chocolate, jewelry, red dress, bedroom and those fancy bath with rose petals...

he thought you would love it.

and yeah, you didn't post any of it in your stories.

he was watching everyone else's but he couldn't find yours. it's okay not to post him actually, but at least show everyone else that you're also being appreciated by your, according to his words: "secret" boyfriend, so he just sulked.

but then he saw that you have his selfie as your wallpaper, his polaroid picture on the back of your phone case, his small ID picture in your wallet and on the back of your school/work id... it made him stop moping...

"daisuki."

ni-ki's eyes widened slightly for a while, then smiled slightly as he wrapped his arm on you. he kept hugging you like a baby, burying his face on your neck. "can you say it one more time?"

"riki, daisuki," you smiled. "i said it correctly, right?"

he pressed his lips together in an effort to contain his grin because you said it so cutely that his heart started aching. "yes..." he nodded, "daisuki."

you both kept saying it back and forth with your voices getting softer and softer. giggles slipped in between, until you finally burst into laughter, all while leaning into each other.

he's so naturally funny, he would open those hard-closed lids for you because he's strong, send you songs and you'll create playlists, just listening to all of what he likes/recommended only...

you rested your chin on his shoulder, ni-ki grabbed your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours before wrapping them snugly around himself.

then you decided to bring ni-ki along to one of your family gatherings.

they whispered among themselves, their eyes kept darting between you and him like you're their newfound curiosity as you walked with each other. his sharp features and towering height made everyone murmur in surprise. "such a fine young man." they said as they swarmed him, asking questions, and forgot you're their actual kin.

so you left him there, sorry, rikiーjust for a breather.

you wandered inside the house, searching for somewhere quiet. you spotted your favorite baby nephew sitting on the couch, watching kids show. he's so cute so you wasted no time pulling him into a hug. "you missed me?"

but ni-ki found you right away and sat next to you too. "yo," he greeted, grabbed your nephew's attention with a soft smile.

the kid's face lit up after seeing a very cool uncle.

he was giggling then started rambling, telling ni-ki all about his school, his favorite cartoons, and the "secret" adventure he and his friends had.

your boyfriend listened and nodded attentively. he actually loves kids, maybe a little bit more than you do.

you pouted unintentionally and held ni-ki's arm.

so you were met with a coldest stare out of nowhere, you blinked, confused. "oh? what's wrong?"

your nephew's face scrunched up, ni-ki playfully glared at you too like, why are you teasing him? tapping on your thigh lightly.

you didn't backed down, "but he is mine!" you continued, he raised a tiny fist and threatened to swing at you so you tugged your boyfriend's arm again, dramatically bickering with the kid, "go find someone else!"

you argued with your nephew while ni-ki watched and laughed, completely adoring his girl—maybe, just maybe even wondering what his own would look like one day.

in the end, you sighed, holding your hands up in surrender. "okay, okay. i'm sorry, bro. my bad."

the little guy gave you one last suspicious look before accepting your apology.

you moved behind your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his waist as you cuddled into his back. your nephew went back into his arms too, continuing his story as if nothing happened.

you buried your face in ni-ki's shoulder and whispered, "me next, okay?"

"love you."

more notes : can't believe i just made a part two of my favorite fluff, snitch [here] song is still replay - shinee ^^

check : マスターリストm.list

taglist 𖤘: @dolliewon @ziiao @17ericas

[alternate-real-ities]

Research Report: Subject J - Asian Flu

Prepared by: Dr. Amara Patel & Dr. Liam Chen

These diary entries, obtained through confidential sources, detail the personal experiences and transformations of a young man identified only as "Jake" who has been unknowingly infected with the recently emerged Asian Flu (AF). His accounts provide invaluable firsthand insights into the virus's effects on its host, spanning from early symptoms to advanced stages. Thus, with these entries, we aim to better understand the virus's effects and timeline.

Diary Entries:

Dear diary,

I woke up feeling a bit off today, but nothing major. Probably just another case of the common cold going around. I didn't let it stop me from starting my day as usual - working on my laptop at home while sipping coffee. My muscles were kinda sore too, but I thought it was just from my workout yesterday.

I did notice something strange though - when I caught my reflection in the mirror, my pecs looked a bit bigger than usual. Probably just my imagination, right? They're not exactly massive to begin with on my scrawny frame. But hey, maybe I'm finally making some progress at the gym!

Anyway, enough about me and my silly feelings. I'm going to bed early tonight. hopefully I'll feel more like myself tomorrow.

Dear diary,

Woke up today feeling even better than yesterday! I breezed through my work and couldn't wait to get back to the gym. When I stepped into the locker room, a few guys checked me out appreciatively. Normally that would make me blush, but now it just gave me this weird rush of confidence.

At first, I thought the gym machines felt a bit too easy today. Like my body was used to working at higher intensities than I realized. And why were my pecs tingling so much? Probably just a funny nerve thing, no biggie.

When I got home, I caught another glimpse of myself in the mirror and… holy shit… are my muscles bigger? Like, way bigger than they should be after one intense workout. Also, I didn't look as pale as I usually do?

This can't be real - something's going on, I just don't know what it is… Hopefully, I'll have more time to think about it tomorrow.

Dear diary,

Okay, so something is seriously wrong with me but I can't put my finger on it.

I can't stop sweating, even when I'm just sitting around doing nothing! My clothes are always soaked and I stink like a damn animal in heat... And don't even get me started on my fucking pecs - they're so sensitive right now. Like every brush of fabric against them sends a jolt straight to my dick.

I called in sick to work today, couldn't handle trying to make sense of all those spreadsheets and emails. It's like everyone's talking in a foreign language now, I just don't get it no more. I keep telling myself this is all stress-related but deep down, I know something ain't right.

At the gym today, I kept having to increase the weights because anything less felt like a joke now. There were these two Asian guys there who kept glancing over at me admiringly between sets. Normally I'd be flattered but nervous about such obvious stares. Instead, I found myself flexing subtly in their direction, feeling this bizarre urge to show off my body.

And to top it all off, I've been having these crazy horny urges nonstop. Like, I'm constantly rock hard and leaking pre-cum like a fucking faucet. It's embarrassing as hell. I ended up jerking off about three times today already but it did nothing to satisfy this insatiable hunger in my balls.

I'm scared… I don't know what's happening to me. Maybe this is all just a bad dream and I'll wake up soon. Please.

Dear diary,

Fuck… what's happening to me? I'm struggling to type this entry because my fingers feel too thick and clumsy on the keyboard.

I went back to the gym again today because I couldn't stay away, even though part of me knew something was seriously off. The Asian guys from yesterday were there again and this time… fuck… I walked up to them and started chatting like it was the most natural thing in the world. Talking about protein shakes, the best ways to sculpt chest muscles, shit I wouldn't have given a second thought to before.

They kept touching my arms admiringly as we talked, marveling at how fast I must be growing. And I fucking liked it. Craved more of their attention and praise. We ended up in the locker room together…

I'm not proud of what happened next but I couldn't control myself. I was too drunk on this new sense of power and desire coursing through my body. The next thing I knew, we were all naked, touching each other, moaning like animals…

I can't think straight anymore either. It's like all the smart stuff is leaking outta my head and being replaced with nothing bro.

And the smells… everything smells so much stronger now. My own stink, sweat and musk, it's so intense!

I'm losing control here diary… I feel like I'm turning into one of those dumb gym bro stereotypes and it scares the everloving shit outta me. I almost can't recognize myself in the mirror anymore.

Tomorrow, I'll go see my doctor to finally understand what's going on.

Yo diary, it's your boy Jake and lemme tell ya, today was fuckin' EPIC dude! Like, the most awesomest day ever since this crazy shit started happening to me.

Woke up feelin' like a million bucks, muscles all twitchy and ready to dominate. I hit the gym real quick, just a lil warm-up ya know? And oh man, did I catch some looks! All those bros were starin' at my gains, probably wishin' they had a physique like mine hehe.

After that, I decided to take my rock hard bod for a walk in the park. Felt good to let the sunshine warm up my bronzed skin and show off these sick pecs. I was strutting real confident-like, just basking in all the attention from thirsty bitches and dudes.

Then, get this diary… I bumped into this super cute lil twink at the park! He was practically drooling when he saw my massive package tentin' in my shorts. I couldn't resist, had to show him what a real man feels like down there haha.

We found a lil spot behind some bushes and I bent that boy over and gave it to him HARD, diary. Pounded his tight boyclit so good he was screaming for more. Fucked him so deep he'll be tasting my cock for days! Blew the biggest load right up in his guts too, hah!

I'm gonna hit the gym again later for some more gains, maybe see if I can find another thirsty boycunt to bust in after. Life is fuckin' great diary!

Analysis:

Based on Jake's diary entries, we can confirm the progression of AF symptoms aligns with our current understanding: rapid muscle growth, cognitive decline, personality changes, and increased sexual aggression. His accounts also highlight the virus's insidious nature, as he remains largely unaware and unconcerned about his transformations.

To better understand the virus's transmission dynamics and long-term effects on secondary hosts, it is imperative that we identify and locate the twink (hereafter referred to as "Subject TW") with whom Jake engaged in sexual activities at the park. There is a high probability that Subject TW has been infected with the Asian Flu through this encounter.

Locating and monitoring this new potential subject could provide crucial insights into the virus's sexual transmission rates, incubation periods for secondary infections, and further manifestation of symptoms in diverse hosts.

This final surveillance footage from a concealed camera in a bustling city gym captures Subject J (center frame) engaging with his newly acquired "bros". This clip represents the most current documentation of Jake's behaviours and physical state, obtained while maintaining strict contamination avoidance protocols. The timestamp indicates this recording is approximately three weeks after his initial diary entries.

Caution: Viewers are strongly advised not to approach or engage with Subject J or his associates without proper protective measures in place, as their sweat and other bodily fluids pose significant infection risks.

Please direct any inquiries or resources needed to pursue this lead to Dr. Patel or Dr. Chen.

[End Report]

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: You tease me and I'll tease you back twice as much.

Warnings: SMUT 🔞. Unprotected rough sex (from the behind), Dom!Chan, oral (f. recieving), pussy/ass slapping, name calling, teasing, blindfolds, use of vibrator, a belt to restrain hands, overstim, squirting, aftercare.

Minors do not interact!!!

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 3.3k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Everyone has different love languages. For some it's physical touch, for others it's quality time. 

Or maybe there exists other types like making a playlist for your partner, matching outfits, you name it. 

But for you and Chan, it's teasing. 

Whether it's through words or teasing one to insanity in bed, the fact that you shared that specific love language made your relationship feel like it couldn't get any more special or weird than it is. 

However, teasing Chan especially when he's working at the studio, comes with its risks. Sometimes when you send a cute little text or a selfie of your new make-up look, he'll respond matching the vibe. 

But other times... 

[image attached]

You smirked, leaning back against the bed as you watched the three little dots appear and disappear on your screen. Because what you had just sent wasn't anything innocent, but an erotically sexy picture of you in your new lingerie that arrived today.

He was typing. Then stopping. Then typing again.

Then—

Chan: You’re evil.

You: Am I? I just thought you’d appreciate some motivation while working so hard.

You chuckled, biting your lip as you snapped another picture, this time, a closer shot of the lace barely covering and your fingers dangerously close to your center.

The read receipt popped up almost immediately, but the reply took a little longer. You could feel the frustration through the screen.

Chan: Don’t. You. Dare.

Your grin widened. This was too fun. 

On the other side of the phone, Chan was losing his mind, knuckles turning white as he gripped the armrest of his chair and his phone so tightly, his cock painfully hard and bulging his pants. 

You: Why not? It’s not like you can do anything about it, babe. You’re too busy, remember?

A pause. And then,

Chan: Keep it on. I swear, if you take it off before I get home…

You: Before you get home?

Chan: Yeah. Because I’m leaving. Now.

Your eyes widened.

You: What?? You still have hours left—

Chan: Not anymore. See you in ten.

Your stomach flipped. Oh shit.

You barely had time to process before your phone buzzed again.

Chan: And don’t even think about putting on anything else.

~ 

The next ten minutes feel like eternity, you sat on the bed, fidgeting with the lace when you heard a loud bang come from downstairs. Before you could even get up to check for the sound, the bedroom door swung open, with a flushed Chan standing outside.

He absolutely wrecked in the best way—his curls slightly messy, his shirt slightly wrinkled, his breathing slightly uneven like he had sprinted home.

You stood in front of him, his jaw clenching as he dropped his bag, his dark eyes roaming over your figure, drinking in every inch of bare skin on display.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he muttered, voice lower than usual.

You shrugged innocently. “I was just trying to help.”

Chan let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head as he closed the distance between you. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers grazing your chin as he tilted your face up to his. “You really don’t know what you’ve just started.”

You shivered under his gaze, excitement and anticipation buzzing through your veins.

Before you could take another breath, Chan's mouth crashed on yours, his lips hungry and rushed as he devoured you, making you both fall on to the bed. 

Your hands raked up his hair, he pulled back, a faint string of saliva attaching from yours lips to his, eyes glassy and a menacing smirk tugging the corners of his lips. 

A smirk you knew that meant something wild is going on in his head.

"Chan..." You started but he interrupted you with another kiss before getting up and walked towards your shared closet. 

You watched him, go through your clothes and then see his face brighten when he pulled out a silk shawl. You swallow hard, anticipation building and rushing through your body. 

Chan got back on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, his brown eyes now dark and brewing a storm within them, the smirk never leaving his face.

"Today," he started, locking both of your wrists under his hand and pinned them above your head, "I'm going to make you feel..." 

Your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, when Chan used the shawl as a blindfold, covering your eyes and engulfing you in darkness.

“Do you know how insane you drove me?” he murmured, his hands skimming down your lightly clothed body, igniting every nerve along the way.

You swallowed hard, almost unable to register his words with the way his breath fanned over your skin.

His chuckle was dark. “That picture.” His teeth grazed your collarbone, making you whimper. “You really thought you could send me that and I’d just sit there like a good boy?”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Not when his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart.

“I absolutely couldn't make it through the rest of my session.” His teeth sunk into the curve of your neck making you gasp. “I nearly lost my mind knowing you were home, probably touching yourself, thinking about me.”

Your breath hitched when his fingers traced the waistband of your panties, toying with the lace but refusing to give you what you wanted.

“Did you touch yourself?”

You bit your lip, heat creeping up your cheeks. Chan’s eyes darkened. “Answer me.”

You turned your head, shy all of a sudden. “Yes.”

Chan sighed dramatically. “Guess I’ll have to show you why you should be patient.”

And then—he ripped your lingerie top off in one swift motion, a gasp escaping your lips.

“Chan!”

He chuckled darkly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Too late to back out now, baby.”

It was ridiculous, the amount of money you've spent on lingerie only for it to be ripped and destroyed in less than a week or a day by Chan. But for moments like this, it was worth it.

Your body tensed with need as he stepped away again, the loss of his warmth made you squirm, but then you heard it. 

The sound of fabric rustling. The clinking sound of his belt sliding through the loops of his jeans.

Your core clenched at the thought.

Chan chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I know you love that sound.”

Your lips parted, but before you could respond, something soft brushed against your wrists, the smooth leather of his belt. 

He wrapped it around them, tying them securely above your head. Not too tight, but enough to keep you from reaching for him.

A satisfied hum left his lips. “Perfect.”

You could imagine the x-rated sight Chan had of you infront of him. Hands tied above your head, blindfolded, exposed nipples peaking hard and wetness soaking between your legs. 

And you knew he was reveling in it.

“You have no idea how good you look right now,” Chan murmured, his voice a delicious mix of amusement and desire.

You tugged against the restraints instinctively, but the belt held firm, keeping your wrists bound above your head.

Blindfolded, all your other senses sharpened. You could hear his slow, deliberate breathing and his movement when he pulled the drawer of the night stand. 

No. He wouldn't. 

"Chan please I—" 

"You don't get to beg yet." 

He settled back in between your legs, a vibrator in his hand, fingers trailing down, ghosting over your soaked panties, he could almost see the outline of your pretty pussy. 

He pressed the tip of the toy over your clothed clit, just lightly enough to drive you insane. Your hips bucked against the touch, craving friction, but he pulled away just as quickly.

“Patience, baby,” he murmured, squeezing your thigh.

You whimpered, the ache inside you unbearable. “Chan…”

His fingers gripped your thigh tighter, spreading them wider. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice filled with admiration and something more primal. “So needy.”

Then you heard the soft buzz of the vibrator, and the moment it touched your sensitive clothed clit again, his mouth closed over your hardened nipple. 

It was a shockwave of dual stimulation as you arched up, the buzzing of the vibrator pressing on your tender clit as he sucked on the sensitive peak. 

You could only buck your hips, arch up to him and moan so loud that the sounds of your voice bounced off the walls. 

Chan groaned against you, moving to the other breast, this time sinking his teeth around the flesh, you screamed in equal amounts of pain and pleasure. 

Your clothed cunt was now soaking, drenched in your juices as you kept bucking for more friction but the vibrator only stayed in place making you ache with need.

Chan pulled back up, to see your cheeks flushed hot and pink, your hands trying to untie his belt but failing, his hand still holding the vibrator and watching your slick seep through the fabric and drip down to your ass. 

"What a slut." 

He brought the wand over your covered opening, pressing it against you that made you squeal and moan almost at the same time. The second you attempted to grind against it, he pulled it away, leaving your body entirely betrayed.

“Don't be mean Chan,” you sobbed and that only unraveled him further. 

“You teased me during work sweetheart. And you know what happens after that don't you?” 

He commented harshly before leaning forward to untie your wrists, keeping the toy aside and stroking your reddened skin gently for a second or two before he flipped you over onto your stomach, ripping your panties and the rest of the lingerie. 

"Chan—please I need—" you whimpered, unable to see because of the blindfold, only felt his hands and movements.

"You need what?" He growled, wrapping a fist around his thick cock and grazing the pre cum leaking tip over your wet folds. 

Your body trembled. “I—need you.”

Chan groaned, “God, you’re gonna kill me.” And then, he was hovering over you again, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

“You want me?” he murmured, dragging himself against your slick heat, teasing you until you were nothing but a sobbing mess beneath him.

“Yes,” you gasped, arching your back.

His smirk widened. “Beg.”

You wanted to let your pride overtake but it blurred into a thin line along with your irresistible need, your aching pussy just begging to be fucked. 

“You were so bold earlier,” he mused, dragging the belt over the curve of your round ass, threatening to slap the leather against your skin. 

His lips brushed against your shoulder blade, hot and teasing. “Now you’re all shy?”

You swallowed hard. “I—”

A sudden smack of his palm against your cunt made you jolt and tear a sharp cry out of your throat. “Ah!”

Chan smirked. “Don’t stutter. Use your words.”

Your face fell in the pillows with heavy breaths, your core pulsing at his roughness.

“You like it when I take control, don’t you?” His voice was low, laced with amusement. “You act like you can tease me, but the moment I turn the tables, you’re right where I want you.”

You could feel his warm breath ghosting over you, so close yet refusing to give in. 

“Maybe I should make you wait a little longer,” he mused again, pressing soft kisses down your spine, deliberately avoiding where you needed him the most. “Make you really understand what patience means.”

You let out a frustrated whine, writhing beneath him. “Please,” was the last coherent word that came out of you before his mouth attached to your cunt, sending you to complete oblivion.

Hot, demanding and absolutely devastating as he claimed you with his tongue. He pushed you forward, bending your knees, ass up and face down, burying his face in your heat, lapping your sweetness while fucking his fist.

He groaned against you, your juices sliding down his chin like honey slipping from a comb, his name tumbling from your lips in a loud whimper.

You fisted the sheets beneath you as Chan’s pace increased. Your eyes were covered but you could feel everything, how tears streamed down your cheeks and his mouth pressed against your gummy walls, eating you out and slurping your mess as if he was on the edge of starvation. 

His cock was hard and aching in his fist, fighting to dive into your tight hole, but the way you taste had him fucking inebriated. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, pulling back with long strings of spit sticking from his mouth to your pussy, his breathing ragged. 

“Fuck, I can just die with my face in your pussy baby,” He rasped, his breaths heavy, your face muffled in the pillows and sweat misting your body.

“Ha—fu—ck” your voice was broken, feeling the blood coarse through you when two of his thick digits just pushed in your tight hole.

He hit the sweet spot perfectly, curling it just right, that he could hear the creamy, squelching sounds of your cunt. 

“I'm co—coming! I'm go—gonna come! Chan—” 

You couldn’t hold on anymore, the balls of tingles in your lower belly growing higher and higher until it exploded, a gush of liquid streaming down his hand and out of your pussy.

You cried out his name so loud, but he didn’t stop until every last drop was milked out of your abused hole. You squeezed your thighs, clenching his fingers and fell limp on the bed, knees weak and completely lost in the haze of pleasure that just happened, Chan withdrew his digits as he looked down at your spent body. 

Finally, he took pity on you and untied the blindfold, hovering over you, his thumbs brushing away the tears that rolled down your face. 

You gently opened your eyes, to be met with Chan's hand wrapping around your neck, turning you to face him who still had that menacing smirk playing on his lips.

You were completely fucked out and he hadn't even used his cock yet, you swallowed hard when his mouth ghosted over yours and feeling his erection press on your body. 

“You'll take my cock like the good slut you are won't you?” He growled and you nodded dumbly, chest rising and falling as you laid back on your stomach on the mattress. 

His other arm scooped under your tummy, holding you back up on your knees and in one swift thrust, he slammed into you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

A broken, strangled moan spilled from your lips, your fingers gripping the sheets as Chan filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way.

“Fuck so tight,” he growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled back only to thrust into you again, harder this time. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

You could barely form words, your mind completely fogged and the pleasure overwhelming as he set a brutal pace, taking out every ounce of frustration you’d built in him throughout the day.

Chan’s grip on throat was just firm enough to make your breath hitch, his tip kept kissing that sweet spot over and over again—pat pat pat!—and you shrieked against the intensity of his pace. 

“Touch your clit.” He ordered, pulling back his hips and slowly pushing back in, you whimpered his name feeling every vein of his thick cock as his thrusts grew slower. 

A pretty manicured hand reached down, you hiccuped gathering your wet slick and smeared it on your erect clit, rubbing two fingers in slow circles. 

“Good girl,” he let out a low chuckle before gripping the flesh of your round ass and giving it a sharp slap!, resuming his pace. He pushed himself deeper in strong strokes into your tight channel until you were moaning and squealing. 

Your fingers sped up with him, rubbing your sensitive clit harder and faster, a lewd ring of fluids wrapped around the base of his cock and the sounds of flesh against flesh. 

“M’coming— Ha, Cha—ngh,” your eyes roll to the back of your head at every snap of his hips, when he grazes his tip against your cervix and your fingers work on the brink of your orgasm. 

“Tsk, yeah?”—slam— “Then come.”—slam—“Make a mess,”—slam—“on my cock.”

You couldn't think, couldn't speak, could only feel the rush of the upcoming pleasure till it pushed you over the cliff of your limits and you came hard, like a dam breaking free.  

He followed just as quickly and close behind, hot white and thick ropes of cum spilling endless in you, his vision momentarily blacked out at how much he had released. 

You fell back on your stomach again, this time your knees completely giving out and Chan too, who was on top of you, his twitching cock still buried inside you, ragged, uneven breaths of you both filling the room.

You felt his cock soften, overly sensitive nerves sparking as it made you wince when he pulled out. You turned to your back and then Chan finally got to see what had done to you.

Bite marks around your nipples and shoulders, purplish red spots on your neck and bruising fingerprints on your hips. He considered this as a bigger masterpiece than what he creates on his laptop. 

His eyes soften when they meet yours, grazing his thumb over your bottom lip before he smiled. “You did so well for me,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You barely had the energy to respond, your body so utterly spent, every muscle lax under him. Still, you managed a small smile, nuzzling into his touch as your eyelids fluttered hazily.

“Stay here, baby. I’ll be right back.”

You barely registered the loss of his warmth as he climbed out of bed, but your skin immediately missed his touch. The sound of water running filled the room, and soon enough, Chan returned, a damp towel in hand.

He grabbed the bottle of water that was on the nightstand and settled next to you, unscrewing the cap before bringing the bottle to your lips.

“Drink,” he urged gently, holding the back of your head. “You need to hydrate.”

You got up and took a few small sips before he pulled it away, setting it aside and laying you on your back. 

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he said softly, kneeling beside you.

You obeyed without question, legs trembling slightly as you opened them. Chan’s gaze flickered downward, and his jaw clenched at the sight of his release still dripping from your core.

He murmured quiet apologies when you winced at the overstimulation as he cleaned you.

“I know, baby, I know,” he soothed, his touch impossibly gentle as he cleaned you up, wiping away the evidence of what he had done to you. 

His free hand massaged your sore thighs, his fingertips tracing soft circles into your skin. “I didn’t mean to go so rough… got carried away.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still dazed. “You always get carried away.”

Chan smirked, tossing the cloth aside and crawling back up to pull you into his arms. “Can you blame me?” He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin. “You drive me crazy.”

“And you love it.” Despite the exhaustion, you wanted to tease him just a bit. 

“Damn right I do.”

Chan reached for the blankets, pulling them over both of you before tucking you closer into him. His arms tightened around you, his heartbeat steady and calming beneath your cheek.

"Rest up, baby. I've got you," he whispered.

And with the sound of his steady breathing and the warmth of his embrace, you let yourself drift, safe in the arms of the man who had just unraveled and put you back together again.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca @greyyeti

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment <3 (If I missed someone please lmk)

Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

[lyricwritesprose]

"Karim?" Joey says very quietly. We're both pretending to use the library computers. Neither of us are. We're here because it's fucking freezing out there and it's warm in here, and the librarians are pretty good about not throwing anyone out unless they're making noise or causing trouble. Freezing doesn't matter to me but I worry about Joey, he's got things going on that turn his self-care skills into pure shit.

"Yeah?" I say, just as quietly.

"Need a reality check."

Yeah, that's one of the things that's going on. Joey gets more or less anchored depending on the day. "Go ahead," I say.

"Thought I saw you fly off yesterday." Joey frowns. "Yesterday? Maybe Monday. Shit, what day is it?"

It's a fast struggle but a surprisingly difficult one. I don't like life on the street any more than the rest of us, but Seriously Bad Things could happen if my real name gets out. I could just lie to Joey. He'd believe me. It might not even bother him that much. He's hallucinated before. All I'd have to do…

Is lie to him about the state of his own brain.

Yeah. No. "Yeah, you saw that."

Joey thinks about this for a moment. He's scrambled at times but nobody ever said he was dumb. He's got a degree in astronomy. Planets sometimes talk to him but when he's on top of his game, he's sharp. "Shit."

"I'd like it not to get around."

"Why the hell not? You could be a star!"

"I could also be an experimental subject or a guy whose family is strapped to a big machine with a laser pointed at them. Prefer to avoid."

"Yeah, but—but why stay here?"

"Same as everyone else, I'm dead broke. Look, even if it weren't for ADHD issues it is really hard to hold down a job when you might have to disappear at any given second to save someone's life. You know? And I won't take money from my sister, she's barely scraping by already." And has mixed feelings about me ever since I terrorized her nasty piece of work ex, since she's bright enough to figure out that I couldn't have done that without some sort of power.

"I guess you can't just rob a bank," Joey muses. "I mean, I guess you could, but—"

I sigh. "The truth is, if some costume figures out how to do that without violence, I usually give 'em a lecture and let 'em go. Just because I won't do it doesn't mean I don't get it. Way I see it, I'm here to protect people, not things."

Joey nods. "Seems like there should be ways you could make life easier for yourself, though."

"Mm. Sometimes. There are some ways it is easier. I don't feel the cold and I don't feel the heat, that's something."

"Lucky motherfucker," Joey says without rancor.

"And, well, you've probably noticed. That things do tend to happen to those bullshit benches."

I see the start of a smile on his face. "The ones you can't lie down on."

"Yeah, those. The dividers get ripped out eventually and nobody knows how, you know? Honestly it's a stupid idea anyway, even if it wasn't for us, who wants a bench where you can't even sit next to your date? A bench where you can't sit next to someone is called a fuckin' chair, and what sort of bitch goes to city hall and says, "I'd like to install a park chair?" Who's ever heard of a park chair? Dumbfucks."

Joey nods in perfect understanding. Then he says, a little hesitantly, "You know the Golden Tomato?"

"I couldn't afford that kind of yuppie food even when I had a place, but yeah, I know it."

"They've put spikes out front. Like, little nubbles in the concrete so people can't sit down under their awning."

I think about this. On the one hand, I've got to be very careful about the favors I do, but this is a good cause…

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if something happens to those, but, Joey? Really keep it under your hat."

"Even if I wanted to tell, nobody believes a schizophrenic," Joey pointed out. "Especially one with the twitches. Fucking bitch doctors." Tardive dyskinesia virtually always happens because some son of a bitch screws up on dosage, and—as Joey can tell you—it's also an instant ticket out of a job interview.

There are reasons I look out for Joey. Beyond, you know. Liking him. Kind of useless as fuck anyway, liking him, I'm ninety-nine percent certain he's straight, but it would take a real shitful asshole to drop a friend just because I'm never going to get in his pants. We've got each other's backs, that's what's important.

"I worry a lot about people getting scooped up and questioned," I admit. I could probably stand to talk to a psychologist about it, actually, but…who? "Don't worry about it. I trust you."

And I will probably never admit to Joey exactly how much that took to say.

You're a superhero. While in your suit, you're beloved by the city, but outside of it? You're a homeless man, unable to get a job nor pay rent because of your duties.

[revelboo]

All I can picture with the latest My Favorite Accident update is trying to introduce two cats to each other by smell through a closed door. KO is our housecat (or are we his human? 🤔) who is very protective of us and then BD bites our fingers when we try to let them get used to each other (it was going fine! We swear!) and suddenly KO is swatting the shit out of him because he’s the only one who can bite us excuse you

Pretty much the way his processor is responding to seeing you being manhandled by someone that’s not him.

My Favorite Accident Pt 14

Knockout x Reader x Breakdown

• Backpedaling as that spinning saw whines through the air inches from his chassis, grazing him to shower sparks and hurt, Breakdown stumbles and goes down. And he’s never seen Knockout like this, optics angry and smiling like that. Head tipping as he stands over him, he slowly extends his arm and Breakdown’s chin is forced up to avoid the blade. Knockout can’t possibly be this angry over him roughing up one, little human. Knockout knows him. And as awful as it is, his spike stirs. Responding to the dominance and anger with arousal. Frag. “You know I don’t like it when my favorite toys get taken away,” Knockout whispers, voice a low, angry purr. A seduction. “When they’re broken.”

• Head tilting at the sound of you limping away, his smile becomes brittle. You’re limping. “I wouldn’t have to steal your toys if you’d spend any time with me,” Breakdown counters, tone bitter, drawing his attention and the bigger mech’s yellow optics narrow in challenge. In anger. And it’s empowering to tower over him for once. Even as there’s a whisper of guilt at neglecting him, for making him feel like he wasn’t needed anymore. Had the big moron really thought he’d replace him with a human? “Or do you prefer squishies now?”

• Limping for the wall, you have no idea how you’re climbing up that slope without help when your entire body feels bruised. You don’t think anything is broken, but if they start genuinely fighting, you want to be far away. So over aliens and getting involved in their bullshit. Jealous maybe-boyfriends especially. You like hanging out with Knockout, taunting each other, but it’s hardly worth getting stomped for.

• “Please,” Knockout sneers, retracting the blade. “You can’t be serious.” But the medic’s head still turns to track your slow progress. Venting softly when you start clambering up the slope only to slide back down with a little squeak of noise and what he suspects is swearing. Lips quirking as you immediately make another attempt, he watches Knockout transform his weapon back to a hand, striding after you and leaving him sprawled on his back. It’s a slight, but better than feeling that blade. “What is it about you that just seems to make everyone want to murder you?” Knockout growls and you look up at him, expression relieved. Spark twisting uncomfortably at that, it’s strange to watch Knockout bend and pick you up by the back of your covering to set you back on your feet, a clawed servo lingering on your arm. On the way your skin is discolored and Knockout turns that deadly smile his way again.

• Using a servo to carefully lift your arm, there’s a flicker of anger at the bruises that Knockout can’t ignore. That Breakdown damaged you at all leaves him cold and furious, and your expression is guarded when you look up at him. “Must be my winning personality,” you say, trying to pull away and he hooks his servo around you. That neutral edge in your voice. Like you’re not surprised or angry that you got hurt. Like you expect it. What is he going to do with you? Stiffening slightly when Breakdown eases closer and you tense, eyes narrowing. Afraid of the bigger mech though it flits across your face so quickly before it’s gone and your expression blanks again. Pretending you don’t care. You’re both so exhausting. Venting softly as he studies you and Breakdown, both of you idiots matter to him and he’s not choosing between you. But you’re going to both make his life miserable if you can’t at least pretend to get along to humor him.

• Shivering despite the warmth of the evening, you know you’re not escaping unless Knockout decides to let you so you just glare at his big, dumb boyfriend while he scowls right back. And you’re aching and just want to lay down. Yelping when Knockout vents, seizes you and just thrusts you at his buddy, forcing him to cup his hands and take you in self defense. Clinging to Breakdown’s servos, your mouth falls open because Knockout is striding away from both of you. Abandoning you with his boyfriend, the jerk. “What am I supposed to do with this thing?” Breakdown growls, holding you out in his cupped hands away from his frame and curling his lip at you. It’s only the very real threat that he might drop you that’s keeping you from flipping him off again. “Knockout, come get your fragging human.” And he’s jogging after the medic with you in his hands, getting jarred.

Previous

[petersasteria]

No Way (4) - G Dragon/Kwon Ji-Yong

Pairing: asshole!GD x fem!reader Summary: He wants a divorce. WC: 3755 Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || gd masterlist

The silence after Jiyong's mom left your apartment was palpable. With his face still stinging and your eyes red and puffy, you looked at each other in silence. Jiyong knew that words couldn't fix everything, so he chose to be quiet. There were many things running through his head and you wished you knew what he was thinking about. God, you wished you knew.

Was he guilty?

Was he sorry about it?

Was he thinking of you and your family?

Was he thinking of her?

Jiyong stared at you and he wanted to know what you were thinking. Ever since this whole thing, he didn't know how to read you anymore and it scared him. He used to know how every furrowed brow is different, what every smile meant, when you felt tired, and now, he's lost. The spark in you has left and he knew it was his fault, but he didn't understand why he did what he did.

Eventually, you broke the silence.

"I'll go get you some ice." You whispered before making your way to the fridge to retrieve the ice pack you kept in the freezer.

Jiyong didn't know a lot of things, but he knew one thing: that ice pack is a symbol of the coldness he's about to receive from you.

Symbolisms were reoccurring things in your relationship with Jiyong. Specifically, 11:11. He didn't believe in it at first. He just thought Youngbae was being so sickly romantic about it.

"Just make a wish when you stumble upon it. I swear! It'll change your life." Youngbae happily said as he closed his eyes to make a wish.

"How does that even work? You just-"

"Shh, I'm wishing." Youngbae said with eyes closed. Jiyong rolled his eyes and waited for him to finish. Youngbae looked at him and said, "Just make a wish, but don't tell anyone or else it won't come true."

"You guys talking about 11:11, huh? My best friend Y/N told me the same thing. I thought she was going crazy!" Daesung laughed. "Maybe she's right."

"Are you guys just saying this because it's 2011? Or is this actually a thing?" Jiyong raised a brow in suspicion. He had never heard of this 11:11 nonsense.

"It's actually a thing." Daesung and Youngbae said at the same time. Seunghyun heard the whole thing and snickered, "Just wish for a girlfriend and if you get one, then you'll know it's true."

The next time Jiyong stumbled upon 11:11, he muttered, "Let's try this shit out, I guess." He wished for a girlfriend over and over until 11:12 rolled around. He looked at his watch and shrugged. There was no harm in trying, right?

To his surprise, his wish came true. He had a slew of girlfriends, but the relationship never really lasted long. Jiyong kept wishing and wishing and when his last girlfriend broke up with him before 2012 ended, he decided enough was enough. Or so he thought.

Daesung had invited the guys to your year-end party that was held at your childhood home. Being the introvert that he is, he knew he wanted the guys to go with him. Besides, it gave him a chance to introduce you to them.

When all of you were introduced, you were whisked away by your other friends, dragging Daesung with you. The guys sat on the couch and helped themselves with the snacks on the coffee table. At one point, Daesung joined them, his social battery already drained before midnight.

Jiyong got up from his seat on the couch and said, "I need some air." The other guys nodded and he went out to the balcony and breathed the cool night air. He looked out and realized you may be the luckiest girl to grow up in such a rich neighborhood. The view was amazing and he was sure you felt like a princess living in a palace.

He glanced at his phone and he snickered to himself. Of course, it was 11:11. He sighed to himself and wished that the next girl he sees is the girl he's going to marry. Just as he finished wishing, you stumbled outside and smiled. "There you are!" You said cheerfully.

He looked at you and he never really got to see you properly. Now that he was staring, he found you beautiful. He didn't know why Daesung didn't introduce you immediately, but if he were in Daesung's shoes, he would've done the same thing and gatekept you for a little while longer.

"The guys are looking for you. Besides, it's time to get settled. It'll be midnight soon. If you don't leave the balcony, I'm afraid we won't see you until next year." You joked and he chuckled, looking at the ground.

"I'll be right there." He replied. You nodded at him before leaving. He looked up at the sky and said, "Universe, you answer my wishes real quick."

11:11 had been a staple in your relationship. It was your lucky time.

It was summer of 2013, on 11:11, when he asked you to be his girlfriend. You were both at a beach and he gave you a pretty seashell. "This seashell is as pretty as you." He said as he handed it to you. You blushed and thanked him. "But I think you'd be prettier in my arms. Will you be my girlfriend?" He was tremendously nervous, but all his nerves went away when you pulled him into a deep kiss. "Does that answer your question?" You asked playfully as he gave you a gummy smile and kissed you again.

He proposed on 11:11 too. It was your 5th anniversary as a couple and he was so happy that both of you lasted so long. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You were so happy.

Since every milestone in your relationship happened on 11:11, you decided to get married on, well, 11.11. It was a beautiful wedding with motifs of white and blue. It was truly magical.

11:11 was such a special hour. You gave birth on 11:11 too. It was the best wish you and Jiyong received (aside from each other, of course). You didn't know what happened after that, but everything started falling apart.

He came home at 11:11 PM, smelling like another woman's perfume and you knew everything was broken.

Jiyong glanced at the clock and it read 11:11. You handed him the ice pack and said, "I'm going to sleep."

"Make a wish before you sleep. It's 11:11." He said softly as he placed the ice pack on his cheek. You smiled sadly and said, "I stopped believing in that the moment you first went home smelling like another woman's perfume, but thanks for the consideration. Good night."

You left and he frowned.

-

It had been days since that moment and here he was backstage at BigBang's comeback concert. The guys were avoiding him, but not so much that staff would be suspicious about it. If you asked him, he thought the guys were Oscar-winning actors for the stunt they're pulling.

Seunghyun was trying so hard to keep a conversation with him because he knew he needed chemistry with him for Zutter.

Youngbae was fuming. He had been quiet since the whole debacle, but he wanted to say a bunch of shit. He was just waiting for the right time.

Daesung had nothing to say. He said everything he wanted to say that day at your apartment while you were out with Seunghyun. When Jiyong tapped his shoulder, all he said was, "I have nothing to say to you." Jiyong never tried again after that.

You were at home, crying your eyes out as you read through the divorce papers Jiyong gave you months ago. Seo-yeon was staying at Jiyong's parents' house as you sorted everything out. You moved some of your things at Daesung's place because you knew you had to stay somewhere after the divorce. You didn't want to stay at your shared apartment.

Fate was funny, especially when truth and karma joins in. Everything happened all at once and in a twist, it all happened at a certain hour:

Jiyong's mistress was browsing through her pictures to post on Instagram and by mistake, she clicks on her risqué selfie with Jiyong and posts it on her Instagram along with her recent vacation photos. She wouldn't know her mistake until minutes later.

Jiyong and the guys thanked the fans for coming to their concert. They all faked a smile at each other and gave each other a hug before bowing to their fans. They all left the stage after that.

After staring at Jiyong's contact for an hour, you wiped your tears and texted: I'm signing the papers.

When Jiyong checked his phone at 11:15, his heart dropped because of two things: he read your text and his mistress' photos go viral because of her mishap. He heard multiple pings behind him as he stopped walking and he knew that it now reached the guys.

Seunghyun walked up behind him and gave him a pat on the back, "Congrats! Everyone knows that you're an idiot now."

Youngbae walked past him and said, "I'm so fucking happy right now."

"~Karma is a god. Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend. Karma's a relaxing thought. Aren't you envious that for you it's not?~" Daesung smugly sang as he walked a little slower, looking at Jiyong dead in the eyes as he sang the last line. He snickered before shaking his head, leaving Jiyong behind.

Jiyong felt nauseous. His head was spinning and the whole venue felt stuffy. He was panicking and he didn't know what to do. Just as his vision blurred with tears, his phone rang: it's his mistress.

"What the fuck did you do?!" Jiyong shouted through the phone. "Why did you do that? Did you know how much you just jeopardized my career?!"

"Whoa, look, I'm sorry. If you ask me, you ruined your career the second you cheated on your wife! I'm not the bad guy here!" She argued through the phone.

"You don't get to pretend you're a good person now. You actively went after me too and you knew I was married. You had the choice to say no, but you didn't. You're just as bad as I am." Jiyong seethed as angry tears stream down his face. His face was red and the staff made sure to stay out of his way as he started walking to the dressing room.

The three guys heard everything from their shared dressing room and they all snickered. "He deserved it." Daesung said.

"True." Youngbae nodded. "What's Y/N up to?"

Daesung shrugged, "She never replied. I'm guessing she's asleep now."

You weren't.

You saw the post.

You saw the comments.

You were numb.

You didn't want to face anyone, so you turned off your phone and curled up in bed. You turned to face Jiyong's side of the bed and sighed as nw tears streamed down your face. "Why did we have to end up this way?" You whispered and cried to yourself. You never expected your marriage to go south the way it did. You cried yourself to sleep and by the time Jiyong came home, his eyes were like yours. He wasn't even sure what he's crying about. He glanced at the door of your shared bedroom and stood outside for a while. He hesitated, but he reached for the doorknob and was surprised to see that it was unlocked; like it was left unlocked on purpose.

He opened the door and he saw your sleeping figure, hugging his pillow. He smiled sadly and went inside before closing the door behind him. He crouched down in front of your face and he gently brushed your hair away from your face. You stirred in your sleep and Jiyong froze. You slowly opened your eyes and stared at him.

"You were always a light sleeper." He said softly.

"You cried." You stated. He nodded, "You did too."

Both of you stared at each other in silence. Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, but you were so tired of crying. You've already been crying for months.

"I'm-" Jiyong started, his voice cracking a little bit. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Truly."

"That's all I wanted to hear, Ji." You croaked out as you cried in front of him. Seeing you like that made him cry too. He sat down on the bed as you sat up and looked at him. "You have no idea how long I've waited for an apology." You breathed.

"I'm sorry it took so long." Jiyong confessed. "I was just being prideful. I'm sorry for hurting you the way I did, Y/N. There's no excuse."

You cried and nodded. He pulled you in for a tight hug as both of you cried. It was messed up; you were hurt by the man you love, but he was the only one who could comfort you. He kissed the top of your head and pulled away, "I really did love you. Please remember that. I was just being a dick. I know you've seen the post. It was everywhere, after all."

You could only nod.

"I'm so sorry." He said.

"Ji, are you crying because you hurt me or are you crying because of your career?" You asked carefully, not knowing if he'll get angry.

"Both." He said, staring off into space. "I wish I never did what I did. I wish I just fixed it when you gave me he chance a few months ago. If I did, my career wouldn't end up like this."

You nodded slightly.

"I got your text, by the way." Jiyong said as he looked at you, eyes red and puffy. "Did you sign it?"

"I wanted to, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I know I said that I'd sign it, but I couldn't. It's so hard to do. This is the only love I've known, Ji. I can't afford to lose it."

"I think you should sign it, Y/N. You deserve to be happy; you deserve a do-over. I'm aware of the shitty things I did now, so please accept the freedom I'm willing to give you. You can break free from this marriage and I'm allowing you to."

"But I still love you, Ji." You whimpered. Tears streamed down Jiyong's cheeks once more and he said, "And I'll always love you. I'll always have love for you and I'll forever see you as my wife. It's never a question of whether you still love me or not. I just want you to get away from all this and start new and I'll always support you whether you want to get married to someone else or not. You just deserve to be happy after all this shit."

"Take your time, my love." He added.

The next day, you woke up to a quiet apartment. You found yourself snuggly tucked in bed and you guessed Jiyong tucked you in after crying yourself to sleep. You got up from bed, stretched, and walked out of your cold room. Your feet padded on the cold floor and you heard voices coming from Jiyong's office.

You quietly opened the door and saw Jiyong standing up, facing the window, not knowing you were watching. His left hand was clutching his phone which was raised on his ear while his right hand was on his hip. He looked ghostly. His face was pale, he was skinnier than usual, his hair was disheveled, and his eyes were tired and puffy. He looked... awful. You had never seen your husband like that.

"So what do you suggest I do?" Jiyong asked, his voice hoarse. "I didn't even post that shit. It's all that girl's fault."

He paused before he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled with a loud huff, "No, I don't have contact with her anymore. I deleted her contact this morning, but before I deleted it, I asked her to take down the post and thankfully, she did. I know it doesn't fix anything because it's most likely everywhere at this point, but at least the source of it is deleted.... No, I broke it off with her already.... Y/N? Let's not talk about her. She's already hurting. I don't want her dragged around for this. I messed up big time, but she's still my wife. Even I'm not that cruel."

He turned his head and saw you standing by the door. He gave you a tight lipped smile, "Let's talk about this later. I have stuff to deal with right now. I think it's best if we just let it die down before I clear anything up.... Alright. Bye."

He hung up before he walked towards you, "I didn't know you were up."

"Yeah, I just woke up." You whispered and he nodded.

"I hope you're hungry. I cooked breakfast." He said softly as he walked past you with you trailing behind. When you reached the dining area, he motioned for you to sit down as he filled your plate with the food he cooked. "I, uh, I looked up a few recipes. I hope the seaweed soup I made is at least up to par." He said shyly, chuckling to himself. He laid down your plate in front of you and to his credit, it smelled good. You watched as he filled his plate and both of you sat down.

The food was surprisingly good. You ate in silence, neither of you wanted to address the elephant in the room. When he was done eating, he stared at you as you ate slowly.

"I bought us some ice cream. I'll go get it." He said before he rushed off to get it from the freezer. When he came back with ice cream, you were already finished eating.

As soon as both of you were done eating ice cream, Jiyong cleared the table and washed the plates. He even cleaned the table and filled your glass with water.

"If you need anything, just knock on my door. I'll just do damage control. Meanwhile, please don't go online." He pleaded.

"I never intended to." You said.

He nodded, "Good. Keep yourself busy." He turned and went straight to his office to make a few calls. You heard him shut the door and sighed before going to your room and packed a few of your things to send to Daesung's place.

Later that day, Jiyong issued an official apology to you, the boys, his management, and his fans. He told everything from the beginning; from when he first cheated until the most recent. If your Instagram notifications weren't going off before, they were now.

-

You signed the divorce papers three days later. When you did, Youngbae and Seunghyun decided to pick you up from your shared apartment. Jiyong watched as the guys took some of your things; the things that are already in boxes. They all glared at him and didn't say anything.

Well, at one point, Youngbae said, "You're not the man I grew up with. I truly hope I get to see him again, but I guess now isn't the time."

That stabbed Jiyong's heart.

When they were done, you and Jiyong stared at each other. "I hope you'll be happy. Daesung's place is pretty cozy." Jiyong said softly.

You nodded, "I hope you'll be happy as well. I know how hard you worked for your career to happen and I hope you don't lose the fire you have in you."

"Thank you for everything, Y/N. I wish things were different, truly." He smiled softly. "Best of wives and best of women."

You smiled at him as tears clouded your vision. "I wish things were different too. Thank you for everything."

You gave each other one last hug before you heard someone clear their throat. You both pulled away and saw Daesung leaning against the front door. "Wait downstairs, Y/N." He said coolly.

You nodded before glancing at Jiyong one last time and kissed his cheek. You grabbed your bag and walked past Daesung to go wait downstairs.

"Dae, you're here."

"Surprise." Daesung said in a low voice as he made his way towards Jiyong. "Congratulations on ruining your marriage, by the way. Here, I thought being stupid is just one thing, but you invented a new kind. It's obvious that you never thought anything through before that first mistake because you went and did it again and again. I thought songs were only stuck in replay, turns out mistakes can be in replay too."

"Daesung-"

"You just redefined what EVERYONE thought about you. Congratulations!"

"Hey, I sacrificed my career when I posted my apology! I sacrificed everything I worked hard for, Dae. Don't you realize that?!" Jiyong shouted.

Daesung scoffed, "Sacrifice? You don't know the meaning of that. Sacrifice is everything that Y/N did for you. She stayed married to you even after you asked for a divorce, she sacrificed her career to be a full time mother to Seo-yeon and a full time wife to you, she spent many nights alone in your bed because you were either on tour or fucking someone else in a hotel room, she sacrificed her mental wellbeing just to keep you, and she sacrificed herself just to be seen by you."

"This is how you repay her? Fuck you. I know you never expected me to come here, but I am and I'm not here for you, Jiyong." Daesung glared, his words full of venom. "I know Y/N like I know myself. You'll never find anyone like her and when she told me that night that she liked you, I stood by and SACRIFICED my feelings for her just to see her happy with you. Do you know why I did that?"

Jiyong stayed silent.

"It's because I love her. I love her more than life itself and I will always, always choose her happiness and wellbeing over mine every single time. Whether you admit it or not, Y/N's the best thing that ever happened to both of us, so don't you ever forget that you've been blessed with the best wife and fumbled it." Daesung finished. He looked at Jiyong up and down before saying, "Good luck in life."

With that, Daesung turned around and left, leaving Jiyong standing in a half empty apartment.

-

A/N: you ask, i deliver. hope you enjoyed part 4!

taglist for this series: @natalicss @aanaritt @amyyforshort @toxicghxst @multifanxtvshows @pinkpunkdynamite @jexify @cherryynoir @tessakleine @hayd3n8 @ellablah @crying497 @jenn2sec @manuzicaveyr @89ers231 @emmiesoverthemoon @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @kenqki

permanent taglist: @redhoodedtoad @billiesiousji @hayd3n8 @sherrayyyyy @nbjch05 @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten

jiyong taglist: @loveesiren

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Five

He’s more upset than angry really, which just makes him feel pathetic. Irritated but...upset that he’s even upset about it in the first place. He tells himself on repeat that he shouldn’t give a shit what Steve and his dumb friend thinks of him. The fact that he actually does just banks the annoyance.

He can’t help but think about Steve’s Eddie’s on a stage analogy, he kind of gets it, he guesses. There’s an opportunity to examine how he’s feeling and be aware of it, rather than let it swallow him.

Fuck that; and fuck Steve’s shitty advice.

Eddie stomps straight through the house and out the back; it’s another nice day. It’s just even more irritating, Eddie’s rut an almost now familiar itch under his skin. How can you be in rut for so long you get used to it? Is that even a thing?

Eddie figures it must be, but his perpetually half mast cock is becoming almost painfully irritated, and only so many wipes with a flannel keep the precome drip under control. He’s just...he feels gross, no matter how many times Steve dunks him in the bath.

It makes Eddie feel like he wants to peel his skin off. Or maybe just scrape it off with sand paper.

Something.

The yoga mats are still sitting, rolled up, on the edge of the deck, and in a fit of pique, before he even realizes what he’s doing, Eddie picks one up and throws it. It’s really light, and that combined with the shape, means it travels less than ten feet before flopping uselessly, and unsatisfying, onto the grass.

Eddie throws himself into a chair; now even more angry with himself. Throwing things like a child; he’d kind of hoped he was past all that shit.

Apparently not.

Eddie sits. And he stares. And the gentle breeze that should be a soothing relief in the warmth just prickles and irritates his hyper aware skin.

Eddie sighs, his head in his hands, feeling washed out now, and kind of stupid, and not a little bit like he might cry which is just. More stupid.

His guitar is next to him, right where he left it, and he picks it up almost reflexively. Eddie had a pretty shitty time as a kid, before Wayne. The one good thing he had with his Mom was the music.

She fucking loved Dolly Parton, and Eddie finds himself idling through the notes of ‘Islands in the Stream,’ almost on autopilot. It was the one refuge. The one good thing his mother ever gave him, was this. Every single good memory he has with his mom involve music in some way.

She was alright on guitar, and she taught that allrightness to Eddie before she died. He’d far surpassed her abilities by the time he was about fourteen, and it was something Wayne religiously encouraged.

Unfortunately, Eddie also suspects his mother gifted him her highly addictive personality.

His fingers trickle their way into ‘Nine to Five,’ and Eddie lets it happen.

He starts to feel better by the time he hits ‘Jolene.’

“Didn’t realize you were a Dolly fan,” Steve says quietly, as he slips into the seat next to him.

“She has writing credits on over three thousand songs. Everyone is a Dolly fan, just a lot of people don’t know it,” Eddie tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Steve’s just a dick who will be out of his house soon, whatever him and that Robin person think, it doesn’t matter to Eddie.

“Huh...I didn’t know that.”

“She’s a genius,” Eddie keeps staring out over the lawn, but not seeing it, not really, “you know she has this program, to get kids books?”

“No?”

“Yeah, free books for any kid under five, you just got to sign up, I think.”

“That’s...wow,” Steve pulls his phone out, quietly reading while Eddie absently hits ‘Love is like a Butterfly.’ “This is incredible, I had no idea.”

“Met her once. Well, kinda’. Passed each other at some awards dinner thing you know. Wicked sense of humor.”

Steve makes a vague snorting sound, “I keep forgetting that you’re famous.”

Eddie actually misses a note, finally turning in the chair to look at Steve, “really?”

“Yeah, I mean, can’t forget you’re like, fucking loaded, obviously,” Steve gestures at the house behind them, “but...yeah. You’re just...some guy.”

“That what you were laughing about with your friend?” Eddie turns back to the lawn, finds himself moving onto some Johnny Cash, “that I’m just some guy.”

“What, me and Robs? No, of course not...she’s my best friend.”

“Uh hu.”

“Eddie, I would never. What happens with clients is private. Always.”

Eddie wants to believe him, he does, “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, huh?”

Steve snorts a laugh, and even without looking Eddie knows the exact look he has on his face, “something like that. We’ve been...good friends for a really long time, we’ve got a lot of dumb jokes, you know?”

“You don’t have to explain it,” Eddie suddenly feels a bit small and...shitty. It’s as bad as the anger. It’s making him unsteady all the...feeling. It was the great leveler, the drugs. No shitty emotions when you’re not really feeling any at all.

“Wasn’t going to,” Steve answers evenly, “it’s far, far too embarrassing.”

“Oh my god well now you gotta’!” Eddie slaps his guitar for good measure, sliding easily back into the tune.

Steve snorts a laugh, and then sighs, “it involves a drunken dare to do the splits and a dislocated patella. And that is all I will say about it.”

Eddie looks back at him for a second, and then back out across the grass again, he’s on ‘Stairway to Heaven’ now, an instinctive home ground that he played so often his hands know what they’re doing without any real input from Eddie. “Can’t imagine you drunk.”

“I don’t really, any more.”

“What, looking at us losers for a living put you off?”

“I mean, I stopped a long time ago anyway really, the hangovers just weren't worth it.”

“That’s your mistake, if you just keep drinking, the hangover can’t land.”

Steve huffs another laugh, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

By mid afternoon Eddie can’t sit with it any more. He paces, shirtless, praying for the crawling sensation to just fuck off. He doesn’t know where it’s come from, but he’s sure it’s not just in his head this time, the physical sensation of something unpleasant and fucking annoying shifting around against his skin.

“When will you have those results?” He shouts through the house, picking at the band aid on the bend of his elbow. He peels the bloody patch away and considers sticking it to the wall before he remembers why the cleaner quit and diverts to put it in the trash instead.

“Tomorrow lunch time ish, they should email me.”

Steve’s tapping his pen again, doing the stupid crossword.

Eddie’s scratching his forearms until they’re red.

“Come on then Steve, you’ve got an answer for everything, what can we do about this itchy shit.”

“Well you could-”

“Don’t say bath. Jesus. It’s your answer to everything. Or yoga.”

Steve clicks his pen closed, finally looking up at Eddie, “would you like a back rub?”

“Would I- Steve come on.”

“You’re in rut. You haven’t scented me, you haven’t nested, other than me washing your hair you’ve had no human contact.”

“No. Fuck off,” Eddie starts pacing again, “can’t you do better than that?”

“You presented me with a problem, and I suggested a potential solution. Your lack of engagement is your choice.” Steve has this fucking bitchy way of sounding professionally bored and it instantly makes Eddie want to gut Steve with a fucking spoon.

“You’re such a cunt.”

Steve just hums agreeably.

“All right, fine. We will try the stupid back rub, and when that doesn’t work, you’re going to come up with something else dumb for us to try?”

“I’m sure they’re all dumb ideas until one of them works.”

“God you’re insufferable. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

The bedding doesn’t irritate Eddie the way he thought it would, at least. Everything looks like it should be itchy at the moment, but it turns out not to be true as soon as he’s splayed out, face down, in the middle of his bed.

His cock’s sort of half hard and half caught, and he has to shove a hand down there to get the thing pointing north and lying flat, but then he’s pretty comfortable.

The bed dips when Steve climbs on, and it only irritates Eddie mildly. Hackles up, but just for a second, and then the fact that it’s Steve seems to sink in and he’s okay again.

“It’s going to be a little cold,” Steve tells him, almost the instant whatever it is hits Eddie’s back.

Eddie hisses at the feeling, “asshole.”

“Uh hu,” Steve agrees.

He starts just by rubbing it in, all over Eddie’s back, greasy and slick feeling. It doesn’t smell like anything as far as Eddie can tell. It doesn’t seem to be doing anything so far either, but it is a distraction, having Steve’s hands on him. They’re bigger than Eddie thought they’d be, and heavier feeling.

Warm, and that feels kind of nice despite the itchy heat of Eddie’s half formed rut.

This is worse than a fucking come down, Eddie thinks to himself. But then he quickly retracts that thought because, no, it obviously isn’t. Drying out at the center was one of the most harrowing experiences of Eddie’s life. Sure, this is shitty, but it doesn’t compare to that.

“Okay?”

It is. It’s more than; it’s definitely taking away from the itchy, my skin doesn’t fit right feeling that’s been plaguing Eddie for hours. Even if it isn’t from the back rub or the feeling of the greasy stuff Steve’s covered him in; maybe it’s purely that Eddie’s being distracted away from it.

Whatever it is, he feels a little better with Steve’s stupid bear paws rubbing circles on his back. It’s nothing like the fingertip treatment he gets when Steve washes his hair. It feels like Steve really, actually, knows what he's doing.

“Sure. I guess.” Eddie finally mumbles.

“Okay, I’m going to move closer now.”

Eddie just hums, and the bed dips again as Steve’s knees edge closer. One of Steve’s knees traps the edge of Eddie’s sweat pants, pulling and pinning Eddie’s leg to the bed with it. Steve leans over, getting more of his weight behind the pressure he’s applying, looming over Eddie.

Very suddenly, Eddie feels trapped. His hackles are up and a snarl rips out of him.

Steve hits the mattress with a thump.

Eddie realizes pretty fast what he’s done, but he can’t seem to let go, fingers digging hard into Steve’s shoulders. He’s on his knees, hovering over Steve. Steve, who has his head tilted back throat bared. His eyes are closed, arms spread wide on the bedding, hands loose and relaxed. He’s not tense, not even a little, just pliant and completely submissive.

He has moles on the exposed side of his neck, like a little target. Eddie leans in, gives in, rubbing his chin and cheek against Steve’s neck. His stubble drags. Eddie shivers as the goosebumps race over his body like a wave.

Steve just takes it, lying perfectly still.

Steve’s scent is faint, Beta faint, but it’s definitely there now that Eddie’s at point blank range.

He smells like sun warmed skin. A hint of fresh cut grass. Something else organic and natural smelling. Bark or dirt or some shit Eddie can't place. Passive though, natural, subtle Beta smells. Nice though. Not overwhelming. Eddie sinks a little lower, rubbing his own throat against Steve’s. He feels instantly better, his relentlessly irritated scent gland suddenly soothed with Steve’s scent.

Eddie breathes a deep sigh of relief before finally letting go and collapsing down onto Steve.

“Better?” Steve asks quietly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie slurs into Steve’s neck.

[railingsofsorrow]

Game of Pretend

[Spencer Reid x Reader]

summary: In which friends with benefits go undercover as a married couple and they ended up playing the part almost too good.

pairing: spencer reid x f!bau!reader

w.c: 2.7K

warnings/content: criminal minds case related stuff; suggestive content (no smut!); graphic descriptions of violence and wounds; idiots in love/friends with benefits trope; their love language is touch, you'll notice that; just a little bit of angst.

A/N: and I'm back. again. this challenge motivated me to write cause I was really going through it. but anyways. this is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins “Undercover Challenge” with the prompt “Characters go undercover as a married couple” and the dialogue prompt “I'm just acting.” “Oh, so you can make your heart race on command?”

navi

masterpost

criminal minds masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“He’s looking over here.”

You looked at your partner, taking a sip of your non-alcoholic beverage slowly as you slightly inclined your neck to watch the UnSub having a drink in the other end of the bar counter.

“Let’s start the show then.” You winked at Spencer, earning a scowl that he quickly masked into a loving smile towards you.

Such an in love husband.

“He’s staring at her.”

JJ’s voice boomed into your ear as a warning as you reached for Spencer's hand, intertwining your fingers.

“My mom wants us to visit her first thing after the honeymoon.” You said, playing with the straw of your cup. “We should extend it.” That got a laugh out of him and you felt his curls tickling your temple as he leaned closer.

“We can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Yeah, baby.” You didn't know why the nickname surprised you but it did.

Spencer watched as your eyes traveled across this face in contemplation, wonder. He's just playing his part.

“Whatever I want huh?” You hummed softly, cheek leaning on your hand. Spencer knew that expression. He has lived with it these past months whenever you were going to do something you knew would piss him off. Often to tease him.

God he hated that look. Your teasing was relentless.

He pulled a strand of your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering near your cheek. His touch was warm and in spite of not really being a fan of physical touch, you'd always find yourself leaning closer to Spencer at certain moments. He represented some type of safety to you, you never really read too much into it, but you also never denied yourself to be close to him when you wanted to.

The way his eyes briefly shifted from behind you to you again told you the UnSub was closer this time.

“We could maybe do that thing in bed we were thinking of trying…”

The way Spencer choked on his own spit — he had a drink but he didn't even touch it — made you grin so big your mouth could split open. What he did with touches you were able to do with words.

“Kinky.”

You heard through your earpiece and Emily's voice almost got you to crack. You didn't.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Well, I have a few ideas I’ve been wanting to try but yeah, it's not like we have all the time in the world now.” You bit your cheek, hating the fact that he paid with the same coin. You, on the other hand, felt your neck heating up. His honey brown eyes stared you down and you saw the edge of his lips quivering in amusement. Caught you. You could read his thoughts.

“Oh, shit! I'm so sorry, miss.”

And you needed the UnSub to act to get out of your staring contest, you didn't know if that was good or bad.

First move — to accidentally bump into his victims with his drink ✓

Perfectly done.

Second move — the victim goes into the women's bathroom to clean herself up.

Now, it's your move.

Spencer heavily glared at the man as he insisted to buy you another drink, but you squeezed his arm and brought his attention back to you. Your voice was calm and calculated, a pointed gaze sent his way. I'm going to the bathroom, watch out for his partner. I got him.

“I’ll come with you.”

You halted, practically feeling the guy's gaze on your back. He had walked away after apologizing a thousand times but he was the one to watch the woman enter the bathroom while his partner stayed outside with the car, ready to take off.

They had fallen for the bait, it had been a simple stakeout. The whole reason the women were caught without any commotion was because they went into the bathroom alone. So why the fuck did Spencer want to come in with you? It wasn't part of the plan.

“Honey, it's the women's restroom.” You laughed as if that was the most funny thing in the world. Hotch’s deep angry voice resonated through the earpiece, telling Spencer off. You didn't have time to dwell on it because you were already moving away from your husband's pouty figure.

Flashforward and you were sitting in the back of an ambulance with an EMT tending to your superficial wounds. Nothing serious happened, a minor physical conflict when the man noticed you were about to fight back. He got a punch in your eye. You knocked him out with a swing of your leg. That was it. Still, Spencer was fretting.

“You need a head CT.”

“You need to calm down.” You told him with a sigh after pulling him away from the EMT so he would stop bugging them about your health. “Jesus Christ, I've been through worse. Relax.”

“He had a syringe to your neck—” He started and you interrupted him with a bored tone.

“Didn’t even graze my neck, Spencer.”

“It could've!”

Your voice was resigned because you were tired. All you needed was your bed and sleep twenty-four hours straight. That fucking duo of bastards had you and your team chasing them for a week. “Okay, honey, drop the overprotective husband act. We're off the stage. I'm fine.”

Spencer seemed to get the point and left you alone. After Hotch congratulated you for a good undercover job, he let you know you were not going back tonight because the jet would only be ready in the morning. So yeah, no warm bed with your soft mattress and your fairy lights tonight. Just the old musty bedding in your motel bedroom. At least it was a room for one, you didn't have to share with anyone else neither would you have patience to do it.

Emily and JJ followed you on your way to your room. You noticed their exchange of looks right away.

“Spit it out.”

JJ blinked innocently at you. “What?”

Pressing your thumb against the bridge of your nose, you tiredly said, “You two are either flirting shamelessly right in front of me or silently discussing something about me. I believe is the second option so spit.it.out.”

Emily wasn't one to beat around the bush when it was something she wanted information on.

“You and Reid at the bar.”

“You mean where we served as bait to catch the UnSub?”

“That kinky talk all of a sudden, I mean.” Emily smirked as JJ chuckled beside her.

The only thing you could do was offer her a blank expression. You also knew how to play dumb like JJ just did a few seconds ago.

“Oh, please. He didn't even bat an eye at you!” She carried on, raising a brow. “Something’s going on, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at them.

“What is this, fifth grade?”

Emily let out a groan that echoed the hallway just as you reached your door. Their respective rooms were a few doors down.

“Told you she wouldn't reveal anything.”

“I had hope.”

You rolled your eyes before pressing your key in the keyhole and opening your door. “Goodnight, girls.”

You liked certainty.

It was so much easier when people would be straight forward and simply put the cards on the table to avoid misunderstandings.

You've had that trouble in relationships throughout your life. The experience of navigating a situationship on eggshells. Am I giving too much expectations? Am I having too many expectations? Is this even worth my time? Sometimes you just wanted to take the edge off. Simple and effective. No strings attached.

Somehow, you never had that issue with Spencer. That doubt.

“Serendipity,” he said one night. Your limbs were tangled under the sheets and he just blurted out the word as if you were supposed to know what it meant without any context.

You looked up at him, your lashes barely letting you open your eyes since your latest activities had tired you out. “What?” You were used to Spencer’s random bursts of smart comments.

“It means when you…” He paused to kiss the back of your neck, causing you to squirm away only briefly, a smile growing in your lips. “... find something good accidentally…” another kiss, his hands wrap around your waist slowly. “without meaning to.”

“Oh.” You turned around as his arms caged you in, supporting your torso against his chest. You liked how his eyes seemed relaxed after you spent a night together. Ever since you met Spencer, he never had a healthy night sleep. Either because of a good book or worry. He never really rested. You had that in common. That was probably why you two clicked immediately in more ways than one. “You’re saying i’m that something good you found, Doc? Careful, I'll start thinking you’re getting attached.”

Certainty was in your agreement when you decided to turn friends with benefits. Things were pretty clear for the two of you since the beginning. Both wanted to just… forget about your jobs for a little while. And that's what you did.

That agreement was none of everyone's concern but yours. So you didn't tell anyone. It was your own thing, which was going well so far.

Too well.

You were too good at ignoring signs. All your life, you've been so focused on not getting attached that it usually worked well in your favor. But you realized you fucked up when after a bad day the only person you wanted around was him. And sex wasn't what you had in mind. Spencer’s presence was inviting and all you desired after being (barely) beaten up was to tangle your limbs with his and call it a night.

That's bad. Your brain warned. Very bad. Cut it off before it gets worse.

You stood in front of his door, staring at the wood as if it would knock on its own. Why were you even there? Maybe you should apologize because you felt like you did something wrong when he looked pissed moments before he left the crime scene. But then you remembered that he left. How dare he?

He answered your harsh knocks with a confused frown. His glasses were perched up on the tip of his nose, probably had slipped down while he tried to sprint to answer the inconvenient person at the door in the middle of the night.

“Is everything okay?” You entered without an invite and crossed your arms, waiting patiently until he closed the door. You were mad. You didn't have any reason to be mad.

“You left.”

He placed the book you only now noticed was on his hand on the nightstand. His nose scrunching up in confusion. “Left what?”

“You left the crime scene.” You left me — you wish you had say but you would've sound like a jealous girlfriend. Which you were none. “Didn’t wait for anyone.”

He didn't reply right away, his eyes accessing you carefully. He wasn't mad anymore. He wasn't even mad before. Just frustrated. You were just doing your part of the job and he let emotion go in the middle. It happens. Though the absolute terror he felt right before he got into the restroom was another thing. He never felt that before, it didn't just happen.

“I was tired, just wanted to… get some rest.” His eyes then softened which contributed to you feeling like a fool. “I’m sorry I didn't wait for you.”

“That’s not the point.”

He nodded, approaching you with careful steps. He wanted to redeem himself. You sighed in exasperation, running a hand over your face but you flinched when you touched your wounded brow.

With a gentle touch to your chin, he tilted your head upwards to check on your wound. Your eyes followed him every move. You felt like you could melt into a puddle. His touch was exactly what you needed.

“Does it hurt too bad?”

“No.”

“It may still be sore.” He observed, brushing your hair away from your forehead. Your eyes fell shut, you couldn't help it, your body had its own mind. “I’m sorry I reacted that way. It wasn't professional.” He mumbled after a long pause between the two of you. You had already given up on your tough act, resting your cheek against his chest as his fingers worked through your hair.

“Fuck professional.” You said, nuzzling against his neck while your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You fit perfectly and that would always amaze you. Spencer never rejected your touch and it made you wonder, for a moment, if you were being unbearable. That thought was quickly shut down by him pressing you closer.

“Your heart is racing.” He pointed out, both of his arms tightening around you as if that was supposed to make it better.

“I’m just acting.” You whispered, enjoying the sound of his laughter after you said it.

Spencer leaned back, quirking up an eyebrow looking down at you “Oh, so you can make your heart race on command huh?”

“I bet you got a scientific fact just on the tip of your tongue.”

“When you exercise, your heart rate increases,” he started slowly and you felt his fingers draw up your shirt slightly. You liked where that was going. His raised his hand until it was right by your chest, so he pressed his open palm right by your heart. You ignored the shivering. “It is actually very easy to raise it. When you take the stairs… When you're running on a treadmill…” He lowered his lips to your neck. “But when you're not doing any hard work with your body, let's say, it's even easier. Like now.”

The way he pressed kisses down your neck made your eyes flutter shut.

“If you're experiencing strong emotions like excitement or… stress? Which I know isn't the case right now, is it?”

“Oh, shut up.”

He chuckled, kissing the corner of your mouth. Before he could move to your lips, you drew back, but not so much.

“I came here to talk to you about something.” He withdrew his hands from your waist, his fingers traveled up your arms and he squeezed them reassuringly, urging you to go on. “So… this. Between us. It's cool, right?” Suddenly, you weren't good at communication at all. You barely remembered your own name.

“Yes?” His brows furrowed slowly. “Why? Do you want to stop?”

Your brows shot up. “No! No. That's not— it's not about that.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I mean…” You place a hand on his chest, taking a deep breath so you could gather your thoughts. “It’s not that it's wrong. But. Have you ever considered…”

Spencer tilted his head so he would catch your gaze. “Considered…?”

“Becoming serious. Exclusive. Like a—you know.”

You would've pushed him back annoyed because of how his face was scrunching while he tried to prevent a laugh. He was laughing at you. He held you back, hand crawling up your back to keep you in place. You felt like a fool.

“Yes.” He whispered, cupping your cheeks to make you look at him despite your annoyance. “Yes, I do want to be a couple. Exclusive. Whatever you want to call it. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“Don’t sound too excited.”

“But I am excited.” Spencer emphasized, pulling your face closer which made you smile a little. “I was waiting for the right time, I didn't want to pressure you. I thought you would cut me out of your life and I'd rather just… stay with our deal instead of that being the case.”

“I’d never cut you out of my life, Spencer.” You said with your shoulders slumping in disappointment that he even thought that.

He nodded, resting his forehead on yours and silence took over both of you for a moment. Just your breathing balancing together.

“Stay the night?” His request was useless because you were about to do that anyway.

“Mhm, yeah, I'll stay.”

“Good.” He kissed you, his warm hands wrapping around your waist. “Girlfriend, right?”

You let out a loud groan. “Shut up.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ghostgirl-22]

you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to but..

patrick spiking arts drink with like viagra or an aphrodisiac and then “helping him out” because he’s such a good friend <3

Oh but I want to!! <3

This is post Artrick and Patashi break up and Patrick and Art end up in Vegas at the same bachelor party for a high school friend. Maybe Art has it coming? Maybe Patrick is like the best friend he’s ever had <3

Heed all warnings cause Patrick is totally remorseless and unlike everyone who does something bad in those old black and white movies I’ve been watching lately, he absolutely gets away with it. Sorry not sorry!

CW: intoxication, secret drugging, cnc, dub con (in the sense that Art doesn’t have all the information, but he wants it, he told me). This is pretty much what it says in the ask. Obviously don’t read if this makes you uncomfortable. Not proofread.

—-

It’s bad and wrong, and wrong, and so fucking wrong.

Patrick might tell the truth later. Might let Art get back at him because even for him this is kinda fucked up. But to be fair, he only did it because he was horny. And maybe he wanted a little revenge.

It all started at the bachelor party. It’s the first time they’d seen each other since Tashi’s injury and everything. 

Both of them trying to put it all aside for their high school buddy Addison’s Vegas bachelor party. He’s hosting it with his husband to be…this older, rich tech company guy. Patrick thinks it’s a bit annoying. Even if he was gonna marry some dude he wouldn’t want the guy crashing his bachelor party— he should have his own and hang out with his own friends. but that’s beside the point. 

Patrick thought Art wouldn’t dare show up because Patrick was always closer with Addison. Art probably thought the same thing about him. And yet…surprise. 

Thankfully they barely have a minute alone together sober. Sober, Art is so cool. 

Cool. 

Cold. 

Icy, even. 

Totally Remorseless. They make small talk. He’s dating her now, the little shit. She’s coaching him. He’s playing Indian Wells in a few months. Patrick ponders hating Art. He doesn’t know if he’s quite there yet but it feels like he’s close. 

He still looks so pretty though. 

It’s a reunion of sorts. A lot of their old teammates came. Addison rented the penthouse suite in the Bellagio, private elevator, crazy views… fifteen guys… seven rooms, not that anyone plans to sleep.

Art and Patrick had been known to read each others minds in the past and it feels like that hasn’t changed. Apparently they’ve silently agreed that the last thing they want is people asking things like… “what the fuck happened? you two used to be so close.” Which is how they end up in this unspoken truce pretending like it’s all normal between them. All the way down to the expectation of them sharing a room. Which is fine because, again, no one is really planning on sleeping.

Everyone meets up in the afternoon and they start in the casino. Getting tipsy on watered down liquor while they all spend way too much money. All of them rich kids, or recovering rich kids. Patrick’s not using his parents money but he’s still reckless like he is, so certain he’s gonna make it all back on the craps table.  Art doesn’t gamble so Patrick decides to make him blow on his dice, as a joke the way girls do in movies. of course he wins it all back and quite a bit more on a real risky bet. It’s annoying in the way. He’s glad he won but it feels like it’s Art that can’t lose. Suddenly everyone at the table is asking him to bless their dice. Like he’s just so fucking lucky all the time. 

Patrick doesn’t push his own luck. Whatever the fuck is left of it.

The whole group cleans up and goes out to dinner in the evening. They catch up on their lives since school and tell silly, fun, embarrassing stories to Addison’s husband to be. Afterwords they go to a show. A magic show. Tipsy and cheering at the tricks like they’re back in 6th grade. It’s easy. It’s fun, actually. He barely has to be alone with Art.

By 11pm they’ve started bouncing around the strip from club to club. Bar to bar. Party to party. Mostly gay bars and drag shows which no one minds because honestly they all just love Addison so much. They’re getting properly drunk now. 

It’s then when Art begins getting attention on a level that even he’s not used to from all these really hot guys… that’s when everything gets messy. Drunk and flushed, Art has no idea how to receive any of it except to turn all his repressed homosexual energy back onto the safest target. Patrick.

“We’ll just pretend to be together, you know? So they stop…touching me.” He explains loudly in Patrick’s ear.

Patrick smiles, just about drunk enough to put up with this bullshit. “Okay…fine… whatever… fuck it.”

It doesn’t feel pretend though, especially when they end up soaking wet at this all night foam party just downstairs in their hotel. It’s way too late at night, so many guys jumping up and down all sweaty and hot. Boys kissing. Touching. Shirts unbuttoned, the music too loud, skin too soft. Art hanging all over him, so drunk they actually start grinding to the music. The bass competing with Patrick’s heartbeat for which can go faster.  Feelings so complicated Patrick might need 24 hours in the psych ward to sort it all out. 

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas right? 

Patrick needs a minute. He leaves Art alone, barely able to take anymore. He uses the excuse of needing the restroom. It’s not even a second before at least two guys are swooping in, competing to take his place, one of them their other teammate Lachlan who’s got a wife at home and a child on the way. 

God. 

Patrick needs another fucking drink. Addisons already at the bar and Patrick leans in next to him. 

“What’s that?” He asks Addison as he’s adding powder to his glass.

“It’s a magic pill,” Addison laughs.

”Magic?” Patrick hiccups. 

“Yeah like… like horny candy.” 

Patrick pouts, brows raised in confusion. maybe he’s a little too drunk for this game.

“Viagra. Sometimes i spike my boyfriend— my fiancés drink with it. See.” He holds up a little pill and crushes it under his glass on the bar

Patrick laughs. “Isn’t that kinda fucked up?”  

“Well…I mean… probably yes… but you know he’s older. So I feel like I’m doing this for his ego.” Addison explains.

“Hm,” Patrick ponders. “Have you ever tried it?”

“I’ve had a sip of his drink before when i didn’t want him to know i spiked it. We ended up going at it all fucking night.” Addison grins. “It’s not necessarily for guys our age…but there’s no harm in it as long as it doesn’t last more than four hours i guess. which is easy if you just fuck. Here. You can take one with your… boyfriend? girlfriend?”

the way Patrick feels right now, his dick is so hard he can’t even fathom the point of viagra but he lets Addison drop the pill in his hand anyway. who knows? He’ll be 24 in six months. A proper grown up. maybe his dick will be the next part of his body that will lose the will to live.

“Are you still bisexual Pat?” Addison leans in stroking Patrick’s bare chest. “Cause we’re kinda open and wouldn’t mind trying it with you tonight, and you know… the more the merrier if you want blondie to join us.”

They both glance at Art, dancing all drunk and unabashed between both guys. their hands all over his lithe figure while the speaker blares Bad Romance by Lady Gaga.  

Patrick rolls his eyes and looks back at Addison. “He may be a fucking tease but we both know he would never. But I think I need more to drink before I get back to you.”

“Well…You know where to find us… preferably before this kicks in!” Addison raises his glass. 

Patrick waves to the bartender, fingering the pill in his other hand. Then it sort of hits him like a ton of bricks. This nasty idea. More than a little fucked up. He almost wants to touch himself just thinking about it. 

He orders two drinks. Rum and coke. Nothing crazy different than what they’ve been drinking all night. Crushes the pill into dust under the cold glass and swirls his finger with the powder into the glass he wants to give to Art..

Oh he feels a little gross. Most people around him too drunk… the bartender too busy to notice what he’s doing. 

Art doesn’t think twice; he trusts Patrick so much. What a wonder to betray someone and still think you can trust them so completely. like none of it matters. Art let’s Patrick “save” him from the other boys touching him.

“I swear i feel like Lach was turned on,” he hiccups, swallowing the drink down. “Like I could feel his… you know what.” He continues in Patrick’s ear. 

”Really? Could you?” Patrick asks, dryly. Stupid. He still acts so… innocent oblivious. Patrick just wants to fuck shake him. He’s beyond hating Art. He doesn’t hate him. Could never hate him. He does hate that after all this fucking time he’s still not over him. 

It doesn’t take long for Art to feel it. He’s back to clinging to Patrick. All over him as a way to keep the other boys away. Patrick starts to notice him adjusting himself, getting breathy, getting anxious. Gripping a little too tightly.   

“Uh I need um…um…  is it too hot in here?” He says in Patrick’s ear. “I need water.” 

“What?” Patrick asks like he didn’t hear him. Keeps his body pressed close, hot breath in Patrick’s ear.

“The room… I think I need to go back to the room.” 

Patrick shrugs. They tell a couple of the guys they’re leaving. And of course get teased for being lightweights at 4 in the morning. Only in Vegas. 

Art has his eyes closed, knees knocked together, too drunk, so aroused. He’s resting the side of his head against the wall of the private elevator as they make their way up to penthouse.

”Sleepy?” Patrick asks, standing in his space. 

Art’s all glassy eyed, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide when he gazes at Patrick. “Um… yeah… yeah.” He stammers.  

Patrick smirks, tangles his fingers into Arts damp hair. He hums, eyes closed immediately, lips parted. And then the elevator dings and Patrick lets go. Arts eyes open and he stumbles out behind Patrick. 

In the room Art’s trying to hide it from Patrick. Trying to keep himself together. He drinks a lot of water from the mini fridge. Tries to go in the bathroom but Patirck gets there first. Not to pee or anything, he’s too fucking hard for that. Probably just to keep Art from jerking himself silly over the toilet. 

Patrick strips down to his boxers for sleep. Brushes his teeth in the mirror. The whole time he’s tenting, so ridiculously aroused, thinking of Art squirming, Viagra unknowingly coursing through his system. 

Patrick decides he’s probably not a good person but right now he doesn’t fucking care. 

He reaches inside his boxers to adjust himself before returning to the bedroom, but he has to touch himself just a little first. A few gentle jerks over the length of his dick and he’s catching his breath. He tucks himself up, snug against the waistband of his boxers and takes a few deep breaths. 

When he walks back in the bedroom, Art is sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand down his pants, tugging himself, little soft moans escaping his lips. He panics when he sees Patrick and tries to save face but it’s kinda too late. 

“Uh sorry… uh… it’s not—” 

“You like boys Art?” Patrick teases.

“No… I just… I think I’m overstimulated.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah I… I… it was a lot of touching. I was…” he takes a deep breath. “I mean I know I was a little bit um… turned on when they were…when the three of us were…when I could feel…” 

“When they had you sandwiched between them?”

”Fuck.” He whispers. “yeah a little…i guess more than I thought.” He admits. 

Patrick sits next to him on the bed. “Yeah me too.” He pads his palm over the outline of his own cock. 

Art staring, fingers gripping the sheets as he whispers a barely audible, “Jesus.”  

“We could… maybe… help each other out,” Patrick suggests.

Art looks up at his face, eyes narrowed.

”I mean nothing would change. It’d just be a one time favor between… old friends.”

Art looks down again, knee bouncing. Desperate enough to say: “Okay um…you mean like jerk off together? Like in high school?”

“Or…” Patrick gets on his knees on the floor in front him. 

“Patrick I—I’m not gonna do—“ he stammers. 

“I’m not asking you to… do you want me to do it to you or not?”

He takes a deep, shaky breath and then he nods.

Patrick moves between his thighs and tugs his zipper down further, eases his boxers down and hears Art let out a gentle gasp as his cock is released. Oh it’s painfully full. Poor thing he’s practically humping into Patrick’s mouth the moment he gets contact. 

“Mm, fuck,” Art sighs relieved to get the sensation. Patrick almost wants to touch himself. Can feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears while licking all along the base. Taking his time, swirling his tongue around the tip. He looks up at Art as he does it. He’s got his eyes closed, one hand holding himself upright on the bed and two fingers of his other hand shoved deep into his mouth as he moans around them. 

Oh. Right. Fucking oral fixation. Patrick’s drunk brain vaguely supplies. 

He’s distracted for a minute while kissing along the tip, licking, teasing, sucking and watching Art slide his fingers into and out of his mouth. Gorgeous little thing. 

Patrick severely underestimates how close he is.  And suddenly his face is getting painted with heated pearly liquid. “Oh.. ohfuckfuck’msorry… fuck.” Art groans around his fingers, hitching his hips involuntarily as more and more spurts out. 

Patrick opens his mouth and catches some on his tongue, he can’t help laughing a bit at how fucking crazy all of this is. On the floor of the penthouse suite at the Bellagio and he’s on his knees for his ex best friend who’s all drugged out on harddick medicine, and probably just gave him his first ever facial.

Patrick wipes a lot of it off on his arm and thumbs some of the excess off his cheek and nose, licking it into his mouth. “Well fuck.” He breathes. “You got a lot of that in you.” 

“Oh god…I didn’t mean to…Jesus, Pat look….” Art whines. Somehow he’s still almost as hard as he was before. 

Patrick runs his fingertips gently over the length, still spasming lightly. “You really had fun tonight huh?” 

“Oh fuck… this never… this never h-happens.” He stammers.  

“Really? You don’t get this turned on for women?”

Art presses his lips together, like he doesn’t want to admit to anything. He sits on his hands. “I um…” 

“Why don’t we try this,” Patrick says. “Don’t freak out…”  He goes to his travel bag for lube. 

“What—“ Art begins when he sees it. 

“I said relax,” Patrick says. 

Art leans back on his elbows as Patrick straddles him. “What are we doing?” 

“You already fucking jizzed in my face, just relax. You owe me this.” 

Art takes another shaky breath. Patrick covers his palm in lube and covers Art’s heavy, swollen cock. Art groans and shivers at the feel of it. So fucking sensitive. Patrick eases his own out and then takes them both in hand, lined up he starts jerking. Both of them moaning immediately, like a chorus, the sound filling up the room.

It’s sinful actually. The way it sounds. It’s probably something that would’ve made Art cry when he was 14 and so very afraid of drinking alcohol and swear words and sex before marriage. 

Now he’s moaning like a whore  around his fingertips, hips jerking up into Patrick’s fist, both of their cocks heated and swollen. Patrick is barely hanging on. He wonders if anyone else came home. If they can hear them fucking, neither of them holding back as Patrick moves faster and faster. 

Art falls apart seconds later, come coating Patrick’s palm, dripping between his fingers. and then Patrick’s following shortly after. Shooting spurts of come, aiming some at Art’s bare chest maybe as a little bit of payback. “Take them out of your mouth,” Patrick hisses. Art gazes up at him and slowly pulls his fingers out.   

Patrick pushes him all the way down on the bed and kisses him roughly. Art drawing his knees up, socked feet flat on the bed and arching into it. Tongues and spit everywhere. Patrick taking a minute to replace his lips on Art’s mouth with his come stained fingers. just to feel the eager way Art sucks them in, pulling hard with his tongue. If Art realizes he’s tasting himself, tasting Patrick, he isn’t complaining. 

Patrick pulls out, wet and sloppy and turns Art’s pretty face back into the kiss, deepening it till he’s moaning into Patrick’s mouth. Doing everything he can for more of the sensation. Grinding his hips up, his still heavy cock sliding along Patrick’s bottom. 

“Oh fuck,” Patrick groans because it’s still so hard. “You wanna fuck me?” 

“mm, my god,” is all Art can manage. 

“I won’t tell your girlfriend.” 

That draws him out of whatever messy trance he’s in and Art pulls away from Patrick, panting. “Oh god… why won’t it go away? ‘m is there something wrong with me?” He whines, suddenly teary eyed. 

“Like what?” Patrick asks, carefully. He doesn’t want to over do it.  

“I dunno… I dunno. I’m so… did i drink too much? I just… i just wanna… i feel so fucking horny…and I can’t calm down. I just… i wanna just… fuck. I’m… I’m so sorry, Patrick.”

Tired and drunk and overstimulated from all the sex he starts getting emotional. “I’m so sorry for everything. I think I love you. I think I’m fucking in love with you, Patrick. I think about you all the time when I’m fuck—”

”Okay shut the fuck up,” Patrick snaps gently, because the last thing he wants is to feel bad for him on a sentence like that. The last thing he wants is to spiral thinking about the two of them together getting everything they want without him. “You want my help?”

”Yes,” Art sniffles.   

“Here…” he hands Art the rest of the lube. “put this on and just��� you can fuck me till you’re all fucked out. just imagine I’m a fucking fleshlight or something.” 

“Really?” He hiccups, and he looks so grateful like he’s gonna cry again. 

“Hey… come on, stop man. Just… I’m doing you a favor. Don’t fucking cry about it.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and wipes his nose on the back of his palm. “I’m sorry. you’re right. Thank you so much. I’m sorry.” 

Patrick rolls his eyes and settles onto the pillow. he’s going to hell probably. Art is so fucking drunk, thinks he’s just trying to come down from some normal night where he got too overwhelmed. He thinks Patrick is just being such a good friend. 

It’s so fucking messed up but honestly it also feels really fucking good. Covered in lube. His unbearably repressed ex best friends dick, the same dick he’s been dreaming about since the first time he saw it. That pretty dick pumping in and out of him over and over again. 

“And don’t worry,” he whispers to Art. “it’s not even gay” because Patrick is just helping him relax. “It’s not even real sex I promise.” Even though Patrick can’t count how many times Art comes. Maybe 4, maybe 7. How many times Patrick’s nutted all over the pristine hotel sheets. He knows he’s managed to spill at least 3 times before Art is finally done, done. And Patrick is covered in his come and sweat and spit and tears he couldn’t be happier.

Art nearly wets himself in his rush to get to the bathroom after it all. Probably just relieved to finally be able to go. 

Patrick is so pleasantly sore and drunk and warm. He’s still covered in the sticky mess of it, knowing it’ll be much grosser on waking but he can’t bring himself to move. Art stumbles, back into the king sized bed, moving away from the wet spot but still burying his head near the crook of Patrick’s head and shoulder. So yummy.

He’ll probably tell Art at some point, maybe. Possibly. But right now the city is hungover, the sun is peeking in through the black out curtains and Patrick hasn’t felt this satisfied in a very long time. So easy… he drifts off into a peaceful sleep. 

(Flop era going strong. Sorry so long y’all. I couldn’t stop yapping.)

[psychemochanight]

I was thinking about the last comics that came out, and... I have two thoughts that have nothing to do with each other, but I'm going to mix them up here anyway.

First, It makes perfect sense that Dick h has the blood type that can give the most, but receive the least. (Empathy: It means you give blood until there is nothing left to bleed).

A long time ago, I had read a fic where Bruce commented on this, actually. I don't remember the name because it wasn't from ao3, but I want to look it up again sometime.

Dick told Bruce that he wasn't his son (because he wasn't adopted), but when something happens, and Dick needs a blood transfusion, Bruce is the donor.

Clark and Bruce are talking, and Bruce tells Clark that there is only one person in the League who can donate blood to Dick... Bruce himself, since they both are O-

He tells Clark that Dick has more of his blood than John Grayson's running through his veins. That's his kid, his son.

Which brings me to my second thought, which is that Dick's parents, according to the new issue that came out, had him training 10 hours a day from the age of three.

A typical workday is usually 8 hours a day, and many adults find it tiresome.

Dick has been training 10 hours a day since he was 3 years old.

And he seems to think this is okay, or something to be proud of.

Also, there's another comic where Dick says he sometimes wishes he was just a kid, watching the show, not being part of it.

And it's terrifying to see how this is always overlooked, how his situation is romanticized. Like, there's talk that Bruce should have done better, that he shouldn't have let a kid take such risks, that if he loved him he wouldn't have let Dick be Robin...

What about his biological parents? Mary and John?

I firmly believe that his parents loved Dick, I really do. But I also think they are simply terrible parents.

Sure, at that time it was normal for children to work in circuses with their parents, for acrobats not to have safety equipment... But the Graysons were known for going further. For their extremely dangerous stunts.

And Dick trained that since he was 3 years old.

Even in the older comics, where it's not specified that he's been training since that age, even if it had been since he was 7 or 8, it's still horrible. He was a kid. He should have been among the children in the crowd, not up there risking his life.

Shit, his parents should have used a net just to have a chance of surviving, to live for their son.

Maybe the trapeze act was their way of showing love. Maybe it was all they knew. Maybe they just wanted to share their life with their son.

But still, Dick shouldn't have been exposed to that. What if he was the one who fell, not them? How would they live with it?

Also, what psychological consequences did Dick suffer? They are always attributed to Batman, but were they really due to his time with him?

Sure, being Robin meant doing your job well or dying... But being an acrobat did too.

Dick always lived with the thought that if he does something wrong, he will die, that someone he loves will die.

It's no wonder he's a perfectionist, as much of a "control freak" as Batman himself.

It would also explain many things, such as the type of response he has. When you face a dangerous life of constant stress, your body loses its ability to react normally to stress, even if it's because of small things like an exam or something even less important. Adrenaline is pumped anyway, because your body recognizes the situation as a survival situation... And it makes you addicted to adrenaline.

Damn, even his heart stopping in the last issue makes sense if we could connect the dots.

They're two totally separate things for two separate comics, I know. Just... Damn.