#ones

──𝘽𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝙄 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 ... ─𝙄 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶

¡!ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: daniela avanzini x f!reader (MDNI)

ˢᵘᵐᵐᵃʳʸ ⭑After a month of unintentional neglect from your girlfriend, Manon, who was completely consumed by her career in KATSEYE, her best friend Daniela takes control of the situation.

ᵗᵃᵍˢ ⭑𝘯𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝙔/𝙉 ⭑ 𝙅𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 ⭑ 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 ⭑ 𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘢 ⭑ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 ⭑ 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 ⭑ 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘪-𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘦𝘹

English is not my first language!

It was repetitive. What? No. Hellishly uncontrollable.

───You like it?

Her hands all over your body, worshiping it like you were some damn saint.

Her eyes locked onto every single reaction you unconsciously gave her.

───I'm doing it right, aren't I?

So insatiable. Chasing your stupid approval, as if she hadn't been absolutely wrecking your insides for the past hour.

───So… good. ───Yeah? —she asked, smirking with pure superiority. The tip of her toy was hitting perfectly against that sweet spot inside you, leaving you way more satisfied than usual.

Or maybe it was because you'd spent a whole month silently screaming for your girlfriend to bend you over, but she didn't even notice. Poor Manon. She’s so hyper-focused on her career that she completely forgot to satisfy her lovely girlfriend.

───You're gonna make a total mess in my car, princesa.

At least Dani had the decency to take care of the situation. To take care of you.

It wasn't planned, obviously not. You stumbled into the girls' lives the same way they stumbled into yours—through work. You cooked for them for three months, then your contract ended, but at least you walked away with something permanent from that group: Manon Bannerman and her unbelievable love.

That woman was down bad for you, completely obsessed. Lara knew it, of course she knew, and she’d clown both of you whenever she got the chance. Maybe she was the one who sparked the flame between you two to make the relationship happen.

Or maybe you just fell in love with the fact that someone like Manon could love you with total devotion. A devotion that got lost during tours, practices, and self-care routines.

Ah… Where were we?

───Dani— ───One more, I know you can take one more….

Right. Daniela.

The best friend, your girlfriend's roommate ever since Dream Academy put the six of them together. During your time as the group's "private Chef," you got to know each of them super well, especially Dani, who ended up lowkey winning you over with her smiles, pointless jokes, and that stupid, repetitive Friday line: "Wanna go for a ride in my car?" Not the same way as Manz—or well, that’s what you wanted to tell yourself—just in a friendlier… more unfiltered way.

You caught Daniela's eye. Hell, pretty much everyone's eye in that group, but it was dead obvious that in certain pairs of eyes, you were straight-up idolized.

After the first month of not having you as their Chef, the girls kept asking—begging—Manon to bring you back, you know, even just for quick pop-ins. They missed you as a friend; you were a real one during those months, they genuinely appreciated you in their own way, and that was sweet.

Who was Manon to say no to her sisters? She gave in, bringing you over whenever she could, and that was enough. Until you decided to go visit them on your own. And that’s when everything shifted.

Because you got there, knocked on the door, and expected to see YoonChae’s deadpan face, but instead, you saw those perfect curls and a look of pure confusion on Daniela Avanzini's face.

"Hey… What… what are you doing here?" she said, laughing softly, craning her neck toward the street, expecting to spot the silhouette of a Swiss girl nearby.

"Just thought I'd drop by," you answered simply. "But if you guys are busy…—"

"No, no, no," she cut you off fast, waving her hands in front of your face. "It's just… nobody's home. It's Wednesday, remember? Rehearsals are brutal on Wednesdays."

Right then, your mind went completely blank. Your lips parted, forming a little "O" at the info she just dropped. You probably hadn't felt that stupid all week until that exact moment.

"Damn, I forgot…" "Clearly," the Latina teased. You still remember the way her eyes dragged down your body, checking you out with zero shame. "Are you coming in?" she asked softly. "You came all this way with top-tier energy. I'm not toxic enough to lock you out."

"You sure?" you laughed. "Don't test me."

You definitely shouldn't have gone inside. You should've left, let her rest in peace and quiet. You should've gone back to your apartment, prepped your veggies, and planned that night's dinner to share it with Manon.

But nope. You felt free, as if that space already claimed by six people belonged to you too.

You remember your mistake perfectly—the mistake both of you made.

"So… after London you guys fly to France? Sounds exhausting," Dani had mentioned the European tour and how it stressed out Grant and SoHey when she complained about a tweak in her lower back. The exact same tweak from months ago.

Both choreographers didn't risk it; they demanded double the rest and, if possible, an appointment with a professional. Daniela Avanzini needed to be locked in and fresh as a daisy for that tour.

So she took the L and reluctantly agreed. That's why she was there that day, completely solo and bored out of her mind.

"I wanted to go out," she mentioned. "You know, just… burn gas until I literally have to push the car."

You tilted your head. "That's ridiculous. You need to rest."

"But I'm losing my mind here, girl. Do you know what it feels like when Manz sends video after video of how much fun they're having?" She walked over to the water dispenser and filled her glass again in total silence. Her brows furrowed, her fingers gripping the glass.

Once it was full enough, she chugged it in one go. It looked wild to you; her throat didn't even catch.

"But the worst part is when Sophia gets back, dumps her bag in that corner, and starts yapping like, 'You should've been there,' 'Rehearsal was so vibe' blah blah blah," She rolled her eyes.

It went without saying she was using that tone because she was mad at herself. But she couldn't admit it; she didn't want to say out loud that she felt useless not being able to keep up with them like she usually did.

"Dani," you called out. "If your choreographers told you to rest, it's because it's what's best for everyone. Don't beat yourself up over it." You walked over to her, giving her shoulder a reassuring, understanding squeeze. "The second you go back, you're gonna realize nothing changed. It's just rehearsals. You need to keep your head in the tour game," you added.

In that moment, it felt like she was reading your entire soul. "Does Manz get this therapeutic treatment too, or…?"

You gave her a playful shove from the same shoulder you were holding. "Idiot," you whispered, smiling as you turned around and started walking toward the living room. She followed right behind you.

"What? Can't a girl be curious?" she pressed. "You can," you replied, turning back to face her. "But it's on a need-to-know basis."

"Why though?" "It's a private thing between us, Dani," you answered. "It's like me asking how Jonah keeps you calm after whatever drama. It's private, period."

"Do you want to know, or…?" "No!" You shoved her again, both of you laughing at the banter. "Of course I don't want to know! That's between you guys!"

That shared laugh was the last bit of innocence left in the room. Daniela stepped closer to you, deleting the safety distance you had tried to set up with your hands. Any trace of joking instantly vanished from her face, replaced by that heavy, warm Latina intensity that always seemed right on the edge of spilling over.

"Private…" she repeated, letting the word float between you two like a dare. Her voice dropped an octave, turning into a low vibration you felt straight in your stomach. "You're right. Some things are better kept low-key."

At the time, you didn't get what she meant. Neither of you did, really; it was just talk.

But later, you understood. And you grew to hate it.

After that messy visit, you didn't go back for a long time. Not because you didn't want to, but because you literally couldn't.

You were stuck at your new job in the kitchen of a high-end restaurant. The place recognized your talent immediately, something you appreciated right away, giving it major priority in your life.

Huge mistake, because by putting the restaurant first, your own needs became critical. You’d get back to the apartment absolutely wiped, barely able to feel your hands. You wished Manon was there, but she had her own grind, and you couldn't blame her.

You remember that night, after taking a proper shower, you wanted to make some tea with honey to soothe your vocal cords after yelling orders in the kitchen all night. You searched every single pantry, drawer, and cabinet. Your favorite tea was nowhere to be found.

That triggered you, to the point where you almost burst into tears. But you blinked back the tears, grabbed a coat, and headed out to find a 24/7 convenience store. You walked endless streets, moving from the dark shadows of side streets to the bright lights of the avenue.

There was no way a damn store wasn't open somewhere.

Until a car horn blared right in front of you. The high beams of a luxury car blinded your vision, stopping you dead in the middle of the street.

"I had the right of way, asshole!" you yelled, throwing up your middle finger at the reckless driver.

The headlights cut off instantly and a head popped out of the window. "Did you just call me an asshole?"

Dani. With that stupid smirk that showed off her dimples, a brown leather jacket that always looked way too good on her, and her hair messy from the night wind.

"Looking for a fight?" she teased, though her eyes didn't leave your face, clocking the dark circles you couldn't even hide anymore.

"I'm looking for a store." "At this hour?" she whistled, looking up at the moon. "Super late."

You didn't say anything. You just stood there in the middle of the street, feeling the city chill hit your bones while the adrenaline from cursing her out faded away.

Dani sighed, her expression softening in a second. She leaned back inside, and with a quick click, popped the passenger door open from the inside.

She was inviting you in. Who were you to say no?

You got in, and the scent of her perfume wrapped around you like a blanket, just like the times before.

"Didn't you just finish your shift at that restaurant?" she asked as she put the car in drive. You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I just… needed to buy something to wind down," you confessed.

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, holding back a laugh. "What, are you an impulsive shopper now?"

"That's not what I meant." "Are you sure?" "Dani. I was literally just looking for a box of tea in stores that are already closed," you cleared up.

She let out a dry chuckle, the kind that vibrates more in the chest than in the ears, and tapped her fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel. "Tea. You came out looking for tea at midnight in this neighborhood," she shook her head, taking a corner with an elegance only she possessed. "You're unbelievable. Manon is lucky."

Your girlfriend's name hung heavily in the air, thick as lead. You felt a sting of guilt, or maybe just emptiness, remembering that Manon was probably practicing choreography in front of a mirror right now, totally clueless that her "favorite chef" was wandering the streets emotionally drained.

"Well, princess… let's go get your tea," she whispered, pointing out the exact 24/7 store you'd been hunting for for the last thirty minutes.

The 24/7 store was flooded with fluorescent lighting that, at that ungodly hour of the morning, felt almost violent. You got out of the car in silence, hyper-aware that Dani was watching you from the driver's seat, the engine purring softly like a warning not to take too long. You bought the box of tea—chamomile with honey—and got back in the car. The contrast of the freezing air outside with the warm heater inside made you let out a long sigh, one that had been bottled up in your chest for weeks.

"Mission accomplished?" Dani asked, not driving off yet. "Yeah. Thanks, for real. You can just drop me off at the next corner, I don't want to waste any more of your time."

She rolled her eyes. "Your apartment isn't even that far," she said. "Don't you know the phrase 'shoot your shot' when an opportunity drops?"

"Honestly, I'm just trying to drink this shit and faceplant into my bed until I disintegrate," you muttered.

Dani let out a soft laugh, but it wasn't mean. It was a soft, almost intimate sound as her fingers tapped against the leather wheel. She didn't put the car in gear. Instead, she turned fully toward you, invading that personal space that feels ten times smaller inside a car. "Disintegrate? What a waste," she murmured, and her eyes, dark and glossy under the streetlights, dropped to your lips for a split second before locking back onto yours. "You're running on empty. It shows in the way you breathe. Manon should be taking care of you, not letting you wander around like a ghost at three in the morning."

"She's working, Dani. Just like you. Just like everyone else," you defended, though your voice came out weaker than you wanted. The warmth of the heater was doing things to you, loosening knots in your back you didn't even know were there.

"Working isn't an excuse for being blind," she shot back. She reached out, her hand barely brushing the fabric of your coat near your shoulder. "I wouldn't let my girl look for comfort in a cheap box of tea if I could give it to her myself."

The silence that followed was dangerous. It wasn't the chill silence from when you used to cook for them and joke about salt; it was a thick, heavy silence, loaded with that "freedom." Around Dani, you always felt free, but this was starting to feel like a cliff edge.

"Take me home, Avanzini," you whispered, trying to take the wheel back on your emotions. "…Sure."

The drive to your building was short, just a few minutes where the only sound was the hum of the engine and the friction of your fingers against the cardboard tea box. The tension in the air was so thick you could practically feel it buzzing in your ears, a low frequency warning you that something in your usual dynamic had just snapped.

When the car pulled up to the entrance, you didn't move right away. You just stared at the dashboard lights, feeling the weight of Daniela's eyes on your profile. "We're here," she said. Her voice sounded unusually raspy, stripped of that playful energy from earlier.

"Thanks for the rescue, Dani. Seriously," you whispered. You put your hand on the door handle, ready to ghost to the safety of your own space. But before you got out, something in your chest—an impulse born from pure exhaustion and poorly handled gratitude—made you turn back toward her.

You leaned in. It was a fluid, natural movement. You just wanted to plant a quick thank-you kiss on her cheek, a simple 'thanks for being a good person' gesture. But Daniela, maybe by instinct, moved her head just a fraction of an inch.

Your lips didn't hit her hydrated skin; they hit the corner of her mouth.

It was a barely-there, electric brush. You felt the heat radiating off her, a fire that contrasted hard with how cold you'd been on the street. For one eternal second, neither of you breathed. Your eyes shut automatically, and you could've sworn the entire world just paused right there.

"Drive… drive safe," you managed to say as you pulled back, your heart pounding against your ribs like a trapped animal. "See you around."

"Get some rest," she replied. It wasn't a demand; it felt almost like a plea. Her eyes were glued to your lips, completely straight-faced. The smug superiority she’d show months later, in this exact same car but under much dirtier circumstances, wasn't there yet. There was only a quiet, raw longing.

You got out of the car almost tripping over your own feet, bolted into the building, and didn't look back until you were inside the elevator.

That night, the tea did absolutely nothing. The water went cold in the cup while you, sitting in the pitch black of your room, could only think about how Daniela Avanzini's touch had burned hotter than any stove in that restaurant.

Still, November 3rd would always be remembered as the day the string finally snapped.

It was all about celebrating Lara's birthday at a club, which was a absolute mess of strobe lights and bass that made every single bone in your body vibrate. Lara was completely in her element, moving like she owned the very air everyone was breathing, while you felt the alcohol starting to build a warm, protective haze around your judgment.

Manon was there, gorgeous and ethereal, but she felt like a photograph: aesthetic to look at, but impossible to actually hold onto. Her conversations about Ed Sheeran, tour outfits, and streaming stats were just the white noise of your relationship. The entire ride from your apartment to the venue was nothing but shop talk.

The best part? It wasn't just Manon yapping about it; Megan—who was driving since she actually had her license—was throwing in her own data too, slowly giving you a headache.

The second you stepped into that club—and said HBD to the birthday girl—your plan was simple: get absolutely wasted, even though you had a morning shift waiting for you at work.

The alcohol haze didn't take long to set in. Between the thumping bass and the packed crowd, the world blurred into a series of disconnected frames. Manon stayed glued to your side like a silk anchor, always flawless, always doing the right thing. When the lingering panic of getting caught by a fan or a stray camera made your shoulders tense up, she just wrapped her arm around you, dropping that protective kiss on the crown of your head. "Management will handle it, let's just have fun, okay babe?" Her voice was comforting, but it was also a reminder that she lived in a bubble where everything was controlled.

You, on the other hand, desperately needed to lose control.

When Emily and Megan dragged you toward the bar, Manon let you go with an understanding smile, probably relieved you had someone to party with while she kept networking with industry people. The tequila shots started going down dangerously easy. One for Lara, another for the contract, another just for the simple fact that your hands didn't smell like onions and garlic for once, but like expensive perfume and sweat.

It was right in the middle of Megan laughing hysterically that you noticed the void certain people left behind. Sophia wasn't there, Adéla wasn't either, and…

"Where's Dani?" you asked, raising your voice over a synth track that threatened to shatter the windows.

Emily gestured with her chin toward the top floor, where a glass railing separated the regulars from the exclusive section. "Up in VIP with everyone else. She came with the Canadian guy, right?" she asked Megan, who nodded while wiping leftover salt and lime from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. "Wanna go up?" Megan pressed, raising an eyebrow.

You looked up. The red light from the second floor bathed the silhouettes of everyone up there, making them look like forbidden shadows. "Maybe later. It's way more fun down here."

And with that, they both dragged you right back into the center of the floor, just as the DJ dropped a heavy beat—the kind that forces bodies to lock onto each other out of pure rhythmic survival. You lost yourself in the movement, feeling the alcohol finally erase the edges of your anxiety. You felt like you were being watched, but you wrote it off as drunk paranoia.

Megan's laugh was contagious, a loud sound that sliced right through the club's wall of noise. Seeing herself 'abandoned' by Emily, who was now lost grinding in her boyfriend's arms, Megan grabbed you by the waist casually. "Looks like you're stuck with me, Chef!" she shouted, pulling you close as she started moving to a sultry rhythm that matched the electronic track.

The alcohol had loosened up your joints. You let yourself go, leaning into her chest, laughing at every clumsy step you took. Megan wasn't trying to do anything slick; she was just spinning you around, hyping you up, and occasionally whispering inside jokes in your ear that had you folding over laughing. Your bodies bumped into each other innocently but constantly. Just two friends celebrating the freedom of a night with no schedule, no menus, and no expectations.

But that feeling of being watched didn't fade. If anything, it turned into a literal weight on the back of your neck. You subtly turned your head, scanning the crowd for Manon, hoping to catch her sweet, devoted gaze. But Manon's back was turned, deep in conversation with someone you didn't even know, gesturing with that Swiss elegance you usually admired but tonight felt so distant.

Your eyes drifted up, almost automatically, toward the glass railing of the VIP lounge.

And there she was.

Daniela wasn't dancing. She wasn't drinking. She was just leaning against the glass, one leg crossed over the other, arms relaxed over the edge. Her gaze didn't drift a single millimeter away from you. It wasn't a friend's look, or the casual look of someone watching people dance. It was a possessive, dark stare that seemed to cut right through the distance and the smoke of the club to lock directly onto your skin.

Megan noticed you freeze. "Everything good?" she asked, following your line of sight. Spotting Dani, Megan grinned and waved hyped up. "Yo, Avanzini! Get down here before you turn into a statue!"

Daniela didn't wave back. Instead, she slowly straightened up, keeping dead eye contact with you. You saw her lips curve into that smug smirk that was fast becoming her signature whenever she was around you. She turned on her heel and vanished into the shadows of the upper floor.

"Freak," Megan muttered, shrugging before pulling you right back into the beat. "Anyway, another drink?" You nodded, but your heart wasn't racing from the tequila anymore. It was racing from anticipation.

Ten minutes later, the heat in the club became suffocating. You needed air, or maybe you just needed to escape the invisible presence you felt stalking you. You gave your crew a sign that you were hitting the restroom and pushed your way through the sweaty crowd.

You walked toward the bathrooms like someone sprinting to a bomb shelter. The second you crossed the door, the club’s roar muffled, replaced by the echo of heels on tile and the nonstop chatter of a dozen girls fixing their lip gloss. It was a chaotic mess of silk and glitter. You managed to slip into an empty stall, and as you locked the door, the relative silence hit you like a blessing.

You leaned your back against the cold wall, closing your eyes. The tequila had you feeling light, but the memory of Daniela in the shadows kept you anchored to a dangerous reality. You smoothed down your dress, realizing with a gasp that the fabric had ridden up way too high while dancing with Megan; you pulled it down with shaky hands, putting back together the image of the "perfect girlfriend" Manon deserved to have.

When you stepped out of the stall, the massive mirror over the sinks reflected a version of you that you barely recognized: flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, and slightly messy hair. You moved over to the corner sink, needing the touch of the water.

The ice-cold stream hit your wrists, sending a shiver that cut right through the alcohol fog. Fifteen seconds. Fifteen seconds of watching the water run, trying to convince yourself that the tension you felt was just pure paranoia.

Then, you looked up at the mirror.

Your heart stopped. Through the reflection, right behind you, you saw the dark curls, the leather jacket, and that sharp jawline you’d been dodging all night.

"Do you mind?" the voice asked, quiet but commanding.

You froze completely. For a second, the world shrunk down to that reflection. The resemblance was so crazy, so exact, that the air left your lungs. Was that actually her, or was the alcohol finally making you lose your mind?

"Oh, yeah... my bad," you stammered, stepping to the side to give her space, your fingers still dripping cold water.

"All good," she replied, flashing a smile that brought out a barely noticeable dimple. She leaned in to pump some soap, moving with a slowness that contrasted hard with the frantic energy outside those four walls.

You grabbed a couple of paper towels, drying your hands with mechanical movements, feeling the goosebumps rise on your arms. The silence between you two stretched out, heavy with awkwardness.

"Are you okay?" she pressed, stopping mid-wash to look at you directly through the glass. Her eyes didn't have Daniela's darkness; they were lighter, curious. "You look... a little pale."

You let out a nervous chuckle, crumbling the paper towel in your hands.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," you managed to say, forcing a smile. "It's gonna sound weird, but... for a second I mistook you for a friend. Someone really close."

The woman turned around to face you, drying her hands elegantly while keeping her eyes locked on you.

"She must be a pretty special friend for you to get this tense over a stranger," she teased, using a playful tone that painfully reminded you of Dani's banter. "Or do she and I share more than just looks?"

You didn't know what to say. The physical lookalike was one thing, but the vibe—that way of invading your space without even touching you—was identical. You were about to say something else when the bathroom door swung open and a group of girls walked in laughing, shattering the private bubble.

"I gotta get back," you whispered, feeling like if you stayed one more second, you’d end up confessing things you hadn't even admitted to yourself yet.

You walked toward the exit, but before you hit the door, her voice stopped you one last time.

"Stay safe out there," the stranger said, her reflection smiling at you from the mirror. "Sometimes, mistaking people is just the subconscious telling us what we're actually looking for."

You stepped out into the hallway with your pulse racing, desperately looking for Manon's figure in the crowd. You needed her safe, predictable love. You needed her to save you from the thoughts you were having right that second.

But when you got back to the table, Manon wasn't there. Instead, sitting in your chair, swirling a glass of champagne, was the real Daniela Avanzini.

"Everything good?" she said, looking up, smirking a bit. Her eyes traveled slowly from your feet, up the line of your dress, stopping at your neck where your pulse was snitching on you, jumping under your skin. Finally, her pupils locked onto your lips—the ones that still held the ghost of the cold water and the heat of the confusion.

"So I had to literally vanish for you to come down, huh?" you snapped, sitting down across from her. The alcohol gave you just enough liquid courage to hold her gaze, even though inside you felt like you were falling apart. "You didn't even say hi all night, Dani. Am I that invisible from the VIP?"

She let out a dry chuckle and set the champagne glass on the table. She leaned forward.

"Invisible is the last thing you are," she murmured, her voice raspy from shouting over the club music, feeling like a literal caress. "I watched you dance with Megan. I saw you laughing. You looked like you were having such a vibe I didn't want to cockblock the fun."

You stayed quiet, a small, involuntary smile tugging at your lips.

"Manz told me you're working overtime," she dropped suddenly, breaking the silence. "Says she barely sees you. That you get back, crash, and leave super early."

"It's my job, Dani. Not all of us are lucky enough to live the dream on a stage," you shot back with a bitter edge you couldn't mask.

"Don't give me that," she growled. "You know it's not about the job. It's about the fact that you're fading away. And she... she's so blinded by everything else she doesn't see her best dish is going cold at home."

The analogy stung. Because it was facts.

"Did Jonah leave already?" you asked, changing the subject.

You noticed how she had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes.

"Like ten minutes ago probably," she answered.

Suddenly, she stood up with a calculated slowness, as if every single one of her moves was a note on a script only she knew how to play. She cleared her throat—a small cough trying, and failing, to hide the dryness in her voice—and held out a hand.

"Wanna dance?" she proposed.

It wasn't a polite question. It was a gauntlet thrown down, a direct challenge to that loyalty you’d been trying to keep afloat all night.

"I was sitting way too still in the VIP," she continued, stretching her arms over her head in a lazy movement that made her jacket tighten against her shoulders. "I need some movement. Or did the restaurant leave you too tired to keep up with my pace?"

That was Daniela's trap. She always mixed care with venom, sweetness with provocation.

You looked down at the hand Daniela was offering; a firm hand, with long, confident fingers—the exact same hand that months later would trace your body with sinful devotion in the backseat of a car.

"Dance?" you repeated, your voice sounding strange in your own ears.

"It's just a dance. One song."

You hesitated. Your eyes drifted from her extended hand to the crowd, unconsciously looking for Manon's hair, but she was practically miles away.

You placed your hand in Dani's.

The second your fingers intertwined with hers, a shockwave shot up your spine, burning off any leftover trace of alcohol in your system. She didn't waste time; she guided you into the thick of the floor, cutting through the crowd with an enviable ease, until you were surrounded by anonymous bodies and lights flashing to a dark, deep beat.

Dani didn't wait. She wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against her with a firmness that took your breath away. This wasn't the playful, chaotic dancing you had with Megan; this was something way more primal. Your bodies fit together like they were designed by the same architect, moving in a synchronization that bordered on indecent.

She pressed her chest against your back, wrapping her arms around your waist with a possessiveness that left you breathless. Her hands, large and warm, settled on your stomach, right over the fabric of your dress.

"Relax," she whispered in your ear, and you felt her breath brushing your earlobe. "Just let go for once."

You closed your eyes. Everything blurred out. Nothing existed except the rhythm of the music and the pressure of Daniela's body against yours. You moved with her, following the roll of her hips. Every time your back brushed her chest, you felt like you were crossing a line you could never walk back from.

Her hands started to drift up. Slowly, torturously. Her fingers traced the line of your ribs, stopping right under your breasts, squeezing just enough to make your breathing glitch.

You spun around in her arms, ending up face-to-face. The space between you was zero. You could see the sheen of sweat on her forehead, the raw desire in her dark pupils, and the way her lips parted, inviting you to make the sweetest mistake of your life.

She dropped one of her hands to press into the base of your spine, forcing you to feel the firmness of her thigh between yours.

You looked at her like she was the last safe house in a city on fire. In that split second, the resemblance to the woman in the bathroom made total sense: you weren't looking for a stranger, you were looking for the freedom Daniela represented. The freedom of being wanted with no conditions, no schedules, without the shadow of a career that always came first.

The 'mistake' wasn't that dance. The mistake was the way, when the music hit its peak, you let her drop her head and rest her forehead against yours, sharing the same air, starting a countdown that hit zero without either of you daring to detonate the bomb. The song ended, Manon reappeared with her perfect smile, and Daniela vanished into the crowd with a 'stay safe' that sounded like a warning.

But fate, or maybe that subconscious the mirror woman mentioned, has a twisted way of forcing encounters.

It happened two weeks after Lara's party.

It was pouring in LA, one of those rare, heavy rains that turn the avenues into black mirrors. Manon was stuck in a last-minute photoshoot that had stretched into the early hours of the morning. You, trapped at the restaurant with a double shift because a coworker called out, felt like your feet were made of lead.

When you stepped outside, the cold hit you like a truck. There were no Ubers, the apps showed forty-minute wait times, and your umbrella had given up against the wind on the very first corner.

You were soaked, shivering under the awning of a closed pharmacy, when the roar of a familiar engine cut through the sound of the rain. The luxury car pulled up right in front of you, splashing a curtain of water. The passenger window rolled down.

"You again?" Daniela's voice drifted out, wrapped in the warmth of the car's heater. "Looks like the universe enjoys watching you suffer, princess."

"Dani..." your voice came out as a whisper. You were too tired to fake it, too frozen for pride.

"Get in. You're gonna get sick."

You climbed in, letting the leather of the seat soak up the dampness of your clothes. The car's heat enveloped you, and for a moment, the silence was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic click-clack of the wipers.

"You're shaking," she said, looking over at you, watching you shiver.

"It's just the cold, Dani."

She didn't reply. Instead, she reached into the backseat, grabbed her own spare jacket, and threw it over you. Then, she did something you didn't expect: she killed the engine. The dashboard lights faded, leaving the interior buried in the dim glow of the streetlights outside.

"Manon's not gonna be there to make you soup, is she? Because we have rehearsal at seven in the morning."

"Why do you always have to remind me that she's not there?" you snapped, turning to face her. Your eyes were watery from pure exhaustion and built-up frustration.

"Because it pisses me off," she dropped with a blunt honesty that stole your breath. "It pisses me off that you settle for the scraps of her time."

The phrase hung heavily in the air, thick as lead, suspended between the condensation on the glass and the smell of damp leather. A straight-up declaration of war against your sanity.

Your eyes went a little wider, processing the full weight of her words. The scraps of her time? You knew Manon loved you—you repeated it like a mantra to yourself every night in that empty bed—but the raw truth coming out of Daniela's mouth felt like a solid punch to the gut.

"Don't talk about her like that," you managed to say, but your voice was nothing more than a weak whisper, a pathetic attempt to guard a loyalty that was already ripping apart at the seams.

"Why not?" Dani leaned in toward you, closing what little gap the handbrake allowed. Her dark eyes locked onto yours with a dangerous focus under the dim streetlights outside. "Are you gonna tell me I'm capping? Look at you. You're freezing, running on empty, and the person who actually should be warming up your hands is stuck in an art studio."

"It's her career, Daniela!" you snapped, and using her full name seemed to trigger something inside her.

"What about you though? When is it gonna be your turn?" Her hand, warm and firm, shot up to your neck, gripping your jaw with a pressure that didn't hurt but forced you to look right at her. "I'm right here. I'm always the one who ends up finding you."

Your heart did a violent flip. The ghost of that brush on the corner of your mouth, the pressure of her hips back at the club, the possessive way she stared at you from the VIP... everything crashed into your brain all at once. You were completely drunk on exhaustion, deeply frustrated by Manon’s accidental neglect, and you had Daniela Avanzini staring you down, practically eating you up with her eyes.

"This is wrong..." you muttered, but your eyes drifted down to her lips. "Dani, you have Jonah. I have Manz. They... they trust us."

A bitter, raspy chuckle escaped the dark-haired girl’s throat. Her thumb caressed your bottom lip, pressing into it just a fraction.

"Jonah is thousands of miles away thinking about his own music, and Manon is five blocks away thinking about hers. Nobody is thinking about us right now. Just us."

No more warnings. Daniela closed the space and kissed you.

It was a hungry kiss, a crash of lips that had been simmering on low heat for months between inside smiles and unexpected pop-ins. The taste of the rain and the absolute heat of her mouth made you let out a low moan that Dani swallowed up instantly. Her hands tangled in your damp hair, pulling back slightly to deepen the contact, while your body—reacting on pure emotional survival instinct—arched right into her, totally forgetting the restaurant, the cold, and the guilt.

The passenger seat area turned into an isolation cell. Dani pulled back just a few millimeters, panting, her pupils totally dilated.

"Get in the back," she ordered, her voice dropping into a deep vibration that ran straight down your spine.

You didn't even think about it. The submission born from all that pent-up desire had you scrambling over the front seats clumsily, dropping into the wide space of the car's backseat. It didn't even take Dani three seconds to follow you. She moved with a dancer's agility but with an urgency that was borderline feral.

She pinned herself over you, trapping your hands way above your head. The contrast was insane: the softness of her curls brushing against your cheeks while her eyes promised to completely ruin you.

"I wanted you so bad," she confessed against your neck, leaving marks you already knew you’d have to hide tomorrow with scarves or cheap excuses about kitchen burns. "Every single time Manz would flex you... I wanted this."

"Dani...," you begged, though you didn't even know if you were asking her to stop or to just hurry up. Your intimacy was a desert that she was completely flooding just by touching you over your clothes.

The Latina straightened up for a second, letting go of your hands. She reached down to the floor of the car, where her gym bag had been sitting since afternoon rehearsal. Your eyes, blurred with lust and disbelief, watched her unzip the top and pull out a black canvas case.

When she unzipped it, the streetlights outside hit the silhouette of a leather harness and a silicone toy, completely spotless and gleaming.

You lost your breath. The contradiction slapped you right in the face: Daniela Avanzini, the girl all over the headlines with her boyfriend, the Latina melting cameras with her ultra-feminine vibe, had that in her bag. There was zero time for fictional logic questions; raw desire doesn't care about labels.

"What...?" you managed to choke out, your cheeks burning hot.

Dani looked at you out of the corner of her eye while she adjusted the leather straps around her hips with an insanely casual familiarity, making the silicone piece lock firmly into place out front. Her smile completely shifted; she wasn't the playful Dani you used to know. She was a predator that just tracked down its favorite prey.

...

The memory of how it started blurs against the sheer brutality of the right now.

The leather of the car seats creaks under your weight while Daniela delivers on her promise. There is absolutely nothing "therapeutic" about the way she claims you. It's a frantic, almost desperate rhythm, like she's trying to make up for all the time she spent watching you from the kitchen, seeing you prep dinner for someone else.

───Look at me —she demands, her voice cracking from the effort. Her fingers dig deep into your thighs, leaving marks you know for a fact will take days to fade─. Don't think about her. Don't think about what you're gonna tell her when she asks why you ghosted her texts.

You feel the constant, rhythmic hit of that toy she controls with absolute precision, knowing exactly where to press to make your back arch and your voice get completely lost in a muffled groan against the fogged-up window glass.

───See? —she chuckles, a flash of triumph gleaming in her dark eyes as she watches you come undone under her touch─. You like it better when there are no rules, right, preciosa?

You bite your lip, the metallic taste of guilt mixing right in with the ecstasy.

───Dani... please... ─you plead, though you honestly don't know if you're asking her to stop or to just completely break you.

───Shh... ─she leans down, sealing your lips with a possessive kiss, stealing your air and your entire willpower.

The car, parked on a street completely dead at this hour, rocks slightly.

Outside, the world keeps spinning for KATSEYE, for Manon and her career. But inside here, in this tight, sin-heavy space, nothing exists except the friction, the heat, and the absolute sweetest betrayal you've ever tasted.

You know this is either the end of something or the absolute start of a disaster. But as long as Daniela's hands keep worshiping you in that completely unholy way, you really don't mind being her disaster.

───Don't get it twisted, princess... now that I know what you sound like when you forget about her, I'm never gonna stop asking for more.

THE PITT X ANIMAL KINGDOM

cody resident!reader x jack abbot

introduction: What happens when you build a life saving people but the family you came from only knows how to destroy things? An exhausted ER resident counting down the minutes to handoff. A fiancé who knows exactly how to steady her.

warnings: fluff/soft Jack, family issues, reader just being smurf child, medical inaccuracy, small injuries, brief mention of death, established relationship, reader just hating on Baz bc he is such an ass

It was almost handoff time, and you couldn’t be more happier about it. It has been a rough shift and your mind seemed to be elsewhere the hole night

You couldn’t help but think about your family, not exactly all of them, but the most important

Your brothers

“Hey, everything alright?” Jack move his hand til’ it land in your low back

“Yeah, just tired” you smile at him and can’t help at the thought of how good he looks that night, the cargo pants and that black t-shirt was not doing healthy things to your rotten mind

He can’t help the smirk that starts growing in his lips, noticing what his little dirty fiancée was thinking about

“You’re doing that look again” he said with a grin

The heat spread on your face and down on your lower belly because of his voice tone, you were sure that you were going to melt on the ER’s floor in less than thirty seconds

“Shut up” the embarrassment in your voice made Jack laugh hard

“Hey lovebirds, we got two hours til’ you can go. Let’s work” Parker shout from trauma one beside Shen, who was peacefully drinking his Dunkin’s coffee

“I hate you Ellis” you said back to your friend with an akward smile

She laugh getting back to work as you follow her to the room, with Jack following your steps

“Hey Cody, after that, patient in south twenty is looking for you. And it seems that he came with his bodyguards” Lena says from the nurse station as you got your face frown

“ ‘Kay” you say confused

“Bodyguards huh? do you want me to join?” Jack says from behind you as his hand find it’s way to your waist

“Don’t worry old man, i’ll call you if things get odd” a soft smile ran across your face before kissing Jack’s cheek

A shaky breath came out of your mouth as you ran out from trauma one

The patient, an eighteen-year old-female, couldn’t make it

It was hard, really hard. You try to swallow the sore in your throat, but it was impossible

You couldn’t help but think about that the young girl was your nephew’s age, that that girl could’ve been him.

“Lena i’m taking the south twenty now” you say as your sad eyes looked at her

“Okay baby, you can take a break after, we got it here” she says with a soft smile

“Thanks” you say with a small nod

You get closer to the nurse station to grab a new chart to fill with your new patients info

Your feets seemed to be heavy with every step you take, every breath was like someone was pushing down to your chest, you feel how dizzy you are and how the room started to feel distant

But you couldn’t afford yourself to feel that way, you were a Cody, you weren’t weak; you couldn’t, ever

So you shook your head as you reach the door of your new patients room

But when you opened the door—

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me”

“Hello sis”

This was like fucking hell

“What the hell are you doing here? this is the worse day of my entire life”

“Don’t worry, ours was when you were born, you own us this baby” Baz-the asshole-Blackwell said

“You are so disgusting” you said with a tired huff “What happend baby J?” you asked as you walk next to your nephew on the gurney

“I’m sorry auntie, but the church job was not entirely good…” he said pointing his open wound on his leg

You nod as you glanced over the rest of the grown men in the room

“Are you really that sick of the head to involve a fucking child in your sick jobs?” you asked looking at all of them

“Oh shut up” Baz snap out at you

“No Baz, you shut up, you are not even my fucking brother. So you can go and fuck yourself” the rage was from seeing your nephew hurt was consuming you

Deran, Craig and Pope were watching the scene with big eyes of surprise

You were a Cody, of course you had a bad temper, but they didn’t remember that it was this bad. Worse than theirs

“Get out of here before i do something i would probably regret” one hand covered your eyes with anger and the other pointed the door

Baz didn’t say anything, he just walked away as you wanted, slamming the door

“y/n… This was not the plan, please don’t get mad at us, we love you” Craig tried to persuade you, but you were your mothers daughter

“Yes, yes. Whatever, shut up you too, i’m mad at all of you right now, let me fix J first and then, i will scream at you as long as i want to”

“You look tired” Pope said looking at you from the place he was standing

“The last case was rough a-and…” your voice broke and the four men noticed that

Their eyes softened at your vulnerability

“Is okay, i’m more than sure that you did everything you could bug” Pope told you, he always called you that since you were a child. And because of the vague memory, your eyes started filling with tears

No one said anything, you gloved up and turn to face J’s leg to start making the procedure, that were a few stitches

The room went silent for at least five minutes while you were patching J up. When you finished, you throw your used gloves away and looked at your boys

Deran was the first to break the tense air by stepping up just to hug you

“You don’t have to play the strong part with us” he said stroking your hair as your arms wrapped his waist

You nodded even if he couldn’t see you

Craig was the next one, stepping up and lifting his hand to rest over your lower back

“We are so proud of you” Deran continue as hot tears run down your cheeks

“Hey it’s my turn” Andrew said next and the three of you laugh as you ran into his arms

If someone ever asked you who your favourite brother was, this moment could be the answer

You wrapped up into Andrews arms was your favourite place to be since you were a child

“I missed you Andy” you said when he hold your face in his hands and kissed your forehead

“You know we all miss you everyday”

“Yeah, but i’m not coming back anytime soon” your voice came strong, but not because of them. And they alredy knew it

You stepped back and looked at J before walking near him again

“Please don’t get too involve J, your mom would never want this for you”

He just nodded at you, and you knew he would do what ever he wanted, he was under Smurf claws. And also Bazes, so he had no choice

“I’ll be back in a minute”

As you walked out, the sight of Baz near the nurse station catch your eye

The motherfucker was talking to Lena, using his charming eyes that made you sick

“Hay Cody, you never told me that you had such a charming brother” the redhead say to you

“He is not my brother” your face showed how disgusted you were

Both of them went quiet, you knew it wasn’t Lena’s fault, but you hated him

“Hey hon, everything alright?” Jack appeared beside you with his hand on your waist

Your whole body softened the second you felt Jack’s hand settle on your waist.

Too much had happened in too little time, and somehow that small touch almost undid you more than everything else combined.

“Define alright,” you muttered, eyes still locked on Baz.

Jack followed your gaze, jaw tightening instantly.

Baz only smirked, leaning lazy against the nurse station like he owned the damn hospital.

“Well, well,” he drawled. “This the fiancé?”

Jack’s hand didn’t move, but you felt the shift in him immediately. Quiet. Sharp. Protective.

“Depends,” Jack said coolly. “You the problem?”

Craig, from inside the room, barked out a laugh loud enough for half the hallway to hear.

Deran groaned. “Jesus Christ.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Can every man in my life stop acting like they’re in a cage match for ten minutes?”

“No promises,” Baz said.

“Shut up,” you and three of your brothers said at the same time.

Lena nearly choked trying not to laugh.

Jack glanced down at you, then back at Baz. “You bothering my nurses?”

“I was being friendly.”

“You don’t know how to do that.”

Your head snapped toward Jack.

Baz’s smirk twitched.

And somewhere behind you, Shen let out a low whistle.

“Ohhh,” Parker sang from trauma one. “Doctor Abbot got jokes tonight.”

You would’ve laughed if you weren’t so tired.

“Jack,” you said quietly, touching his wrist. “Please don’t get fired because of my family.”

“I’m not the one at risk of getting fired,” he replied, eyes still on Baz.

“That confidence is sexy but unhelpful.”

His mouth curved despite himself.

Baz pushed off the desk. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m leaving.”

“You should’ve left years ago,” you shot back.

That one landed.

His face hardened for half a second before the charming mask slid back on.

“Still got claws,” he said.

“I learned from the best.”

He looked at you a moment longer, then walked past Jack and down the hallway without another word.

The second he disappeared, you exhaled like you’d been holding your breath for years.

Jack turned you gently toward him.

“You okay?”

“No,” you answered honestly.

Something in his expression softened.

“Come here.”

You barely had time to process it before he pulled you into him, one arm around your shoulders, the other at your lower back. You folded instantly, face pressing into the warm cotton of his shirt.

The ER still moved around you, phones ringing, carts rolling, people shouting vitals, but for a moment it all sounded far away.

“You smell like antiseptic and coffee,” you mumbled.

“And you smell like stress.”

“That’s rude.”

“That’s accurate.”

You felt the laugh leave you before you could stop it.

His hand moved slowly up and down your back. “You wanna tell me what happened in there?”

“My family happened.”

“That explains the emotional damage.”

You snorted against his chest.

Then quieter—

“A girl died in trauma one.”

His hand stilled.

You swallowed hard. “She was eighteen.”

Jack didn’t fill the silence with anything empty. He just held you tighter.

“That never gets easier,” he said finally.

“I know.”

“You still showed up for the next patient.”

“My nephew.”

“Still counts.”

You closed your eyes.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m two different people,” you admitted. “The one who got out… and the one who never really did.”

Jack tipped your chin up until you had to look at him.

“You’re one person,” he said. “Who fought like hell to build something better.”

The tears hit too fast to stop.

“Oh, great,” you muttered. “Now I’m crying in front of the hot older doctor.”

“I’m always the hot older doctor.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you’re obsessed with me.”

Before you could answer, Craig stuck his head out of room twenty.

“Are you two making out or can we get discharge papers?”

You wiped under your eyes. “I’m revoking your pain meds.”

“Worth it,” he said, disappearing back inside.

Jack grinned.

You stared at him for a second, tired to your bones and somehow lighter than you’d been all night.

Then you grabbed the front of his black shirt and kissed him hard enough to shut him up.

A chorus of shouts exploded from down the hall.

“ABOUT TIME!”

“Gross!”

“Get a room!”

Shen yelled, “Ten bucks says Abbot blushes!”

Jack kissed you once more, slower this time, then rested his forehead to yours.

“Handoff in an hour,” he murmured.

“Good.”

“I’m taking you home.”

“Good.”

“I’m ordering food.”

“Marry me.”

He smirked. “Already working on it, Cody.”