Story cover for OFFSIDE by daslebenundpaula
OFFSIDE
  • WpView
    Reads 222
  • WpVote
    Votes 13
  • WpPart
    Parts 8
  • WpHistory
    Time 40m
  • WpView
    Reads 222
  • WpVote
    Votes 13
  • WpPart
    Parts 8
  • WpHistory
    Time 40m
Ongoing, First published Oct 12, 2025
New school. New start. Zero attention.
That was the plan-right up until I accidentally yeeted Lindsay Kensington's Birkin bag into an apple stand and became public enemy number one at Crestwood High.

Now the school's queen has her loyal little army hunting me down... and I'm currently locked in a janitor's closet with the Ice Hockey captain, Tyler Hale-who's infuriatingly calm, suspiciously good-looking, and apparently physically incapable of sweating.

I wanted a quiet life.
Instead, I got a hit list, a hockey boy, and a very real chance of emotional-and maybe literal-death.

-
Sam-technically Samantha-has never had much luck when it comes to living a normal, drama-free life. After a death threat at her old school forced her to transfer-something her older brother will probably hate her for forever-she thought Crestwood High might finally be her fresh start.

But this school comes with its own set of problems. Or maybe... her past is just catching up faster than she can run. One thing's for sure: ballerinas with murder tendencies have a terrifying talent for dancing their way back into your life-quietly, gracefully... and deadly.
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BRENDAN The first on-ice time after a rest is always when I realize, anew, that I feel simply better with my skates on: more alive, more myself. It's like someone wiped away the dust over the glass I see the world trough: everything is more vivid. ... The Coach calls me and talks directly my duty: "We already know Jesperi is able to play with us." He says. I translate 'he is able' in: 'we need him desperately', but I don't say a word and the coach goes on: "But I doubt Weiner can stand the pressure." I ask the next question even if I already know the answer, because you know, it's first day and the two guys are so new: "You want me just to verbal stress them, or do I get physical?" The coach looks at me, bored: "Am I breathing?" He asks. I grin. SERENA I keep walking, but the blond guy remark stings. Of course I'm not his type. I bet he likes petite blondes showing thin floss-between-ass-cheeks selfies on social and thinner sense of humor. He's not my type, either. I'd rather tall men with dangerous look. I've never been on pretty blond guys with boyish grin. I like the Jason Momoa type and if I had to break my no-date rule it would be with someone like... Ok. Who am I lying to? In my rules book, number zero is about no sex... aaand.... I'm not going there. ... I freeze. I'm doing the math: hot guys, broad shoulders, necks large as jaws, broken noses, big egos... I turn around and stare at the office entrance just while the black-haired, angel-faced guy pushes the glass door and enter the office reception. BEFORE YOU GET STARTED: Sex scenes are explicit. If you're under eighteen or too sensitive, please don't read. English is not my native language, I improved it by writing this fanfic, please let me know where I got it wrong and please, comment, so I will improve! I had fun writing, I hope you'll have fun too!