fadingchaosgoatee

[fadingchaosgoatee]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ REFLECTIONS kim chaewon x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick ⭢ super rich kids ⭢ girl, so confusing ⭢ take your mask off ⭢ carmen ⭢ untitled

↳ warnings richgirl!yn, , angst, guilt, a lot of confusion, hints of over working, more guilt, very chaewon and yn focused

the feeling of having no sleep is one of the most uncomfortable things to exist, your eyes sting as they fight to stay open, your limbs grow heavy like they’re weighed down by lead, and a strange chill settles over your skin without warning. all of it was hitting chaewon at once, and it was unbearable.

her mind was basically mush. she wondered if anyone had ever gone through this many emotions and realizations all at once, or if she had just broken some kind of world record for mental overload.

she doesn’t remember when she got up from kazuha’s bedroom door, just that somehow, she ended up sitting in the kitchen with the sun already out, pouring through the windows like it had been waiting for her.

she rests her head in her palm, one name echoing in her mind, yn.

god, how she hated her. the girl born in front of the entire country, the girl with more money than anyone could dream of, the girl who carried privilege like a second skin. everything about her felt unfair.

but she was also the girl who knew,who had lived through, the darkest, most hidden corners of the moon family’s truth. and how foolish of chaewon, really, to ever disregard that.

it wasn’t like chaewon had never heard about the moon family’s problems, everyone had. but anger has a way of clouding reason, of turning empathy into static.

if you asked chaewon why she hated yn, she’d have a quick answer ready, something clean and surface level.

“because she’s privileged. she gets all the praise, all the money in the world. she’s spoiled, and she only made it into the group because of her father’s power.”

but if you pushed a little harder, scratched past the rehearsed bitterness, her voice might waver into something far more complicated.

“I don’t know. there’s just something about her… her eyes, they’re too alluring. she has this energy that draws you in, like gravity. it got me the second we locked eyes. and it made me feel trapped. I hate  feeling trapped, from the moment we met just that energy alone made me feel like I need to prove myself, assert some type of dominance but she shut me down immediately, she knows how to play with your emotions, like she’s always one step ahead. honestly, I could go on for hours about everything wrong with her.”

but no one ever asked chaewon to go deeper.

no one ever tried to understand what hid behind the hate, except yn.

“I’m talented, and you hate that. I’m probably the most talked about person in this group. just admit it, chaewon, what’s the real reason?”

chaewon remembers that day like it was yesterday,the way the words slipped out, sharp and cruel. she said things she knew would hurt, but at the time, it felt like the only way to gain some kind of control. to tip the scales in her favor, just once.

because yn had to know what she was doing to her, right? the way she looked at her, spoke to her, existed around her, it had to be intentional. it felt like she was being taunted, like yn was playing a game only she understood.

and now, this guilt, this awful, gnawing guilt was starting to settle in her chest like something rotten.

she needed to get rid of it. fast.

and she knew she could.

chaewon flinched at the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen. assuming it was sakura, she muttered a quiet, “morning.”

“a good morning? from you? what’s the occasion?”

her blood ran cold.

she froze.

she turned around slowly and there yn stood, in all her effortless glory. even freshly woken, she looked like something out of a magazine, wrapped in a hot pink robe that hung just loose enough to reveal the edge of a sports bra underneath.

chaewon’s eyes couldn’t help but trace the length of her, head to toe, lingering far too long. something stirred in her chest, unfamiliar, uneasy. she inhaled sharply, her gaze locked on yn like it had a mind of its own.

“um?” 

chaewon snapped out of her daze, forcing herself to pull it together. she tried to shoot yn a sharp glare, but it landed weak, more flustered than fierce.

“I thought you were someone else,” she muttered, voice tighter than she wanted it to be.

“ah, that explains it,” yn said casually, opening the fridge and pulling out a container of strawberries like this was just another normal morning. “I don’t even remember last night. did you see me and zuha come in?”

her tone was light, but chaewon felt every word like a stone in her stomach.

because she did. she saw everything and somehow, it spiraled into a night of world-shifting realizations she still hadn’t recovered from.

“no,” chaewon mumbled, eyes fixed anywhere but on yn, trying her hardest not to look because looking might unravel her all over again.

stop, she’s supposed to be strong.

she snapped her eyes at yn and gave her a sharper glare that landed better, “our comeback is really soon, so don’t be late to practice like you usually are.” she said with as much hostility as she could muster.

yn paused, the strawberry inches from her lips. her soft, doe like eyes sharpened in an instant, and the shift sent a strange,   unwelcome twist through chaewon’s stomach. what the hell was happening to her?

“you’re saying that to the girl who stays and practices until three in the morning?” yn tilted her head, voice edged with amusement. “there’s a reason I’m the best so maybe let’s not question my work ethic.”

with that, she popped the strawberry into her mouth, grabbed the rest of the container, and sauntered out of the kitchen.

chaewon let out a groan, dragging her hands down her face.

partly out of frustration, because yn was insufferable. and partly because she’d been so distracted by her face, her voice, her presence, that she barely registered a word she said.

so much for getting rid of it.

the feeling hadn’t left, if anything, it had only grown louder. that slow unraveling at the edges of her sanity, the way yn consumed her thoughts like a fever she couldn’t shake. 

she let out a quiet laugh, bitter and breathless. yn had always lingered somewhere in her mind, but not like this. not in this way that felt so consuming it was almost nauseating.

yunjin’s voice was like background music to her as she looked out the window, she felt hyper aware of everything and the fact that yn was sitting right behind it wasn’t helping.

was it weird that she swore she could smell yn’s perfume, rich, expensive, and so distinctly her it made chaewon’s head spin?

or the way her voice softened when she made offhand comments to kazuha, sending chaewon’s heart into an unsteady rhythm?

yeah. it was weird. so weird it was starting to scare her.

 chaewon didn’t know what the hell was wrong with her.

this wasn’t her. not even close.

and yet, all throughout dance practice, she kept catching herself adjusting her moves, her angles, her energy all for yn’s attention. like some desperate need to be seen by her had rooted itself deep inside her chest.

it was pathetic. and it was making her sick.

this wasn’t what she was supposed to be doing.

her eyes couldn’t leave yn, even if she tried. it was like some invisible force kept pulling her back.

this was insane.

if someone had told her a year ago that drunk words from yn would flip her entire world upside down, she would’ve laughed in their face.

but now? now she wasn’t laughing. not even close.

“are you good?” she turned to see yunjin look at her with concern, “you keep zoning out.”

what chaewon wanted to say was, “no and it’s all yn’s fault.”

but instead, she swallowed the words,brushed the girl off, and gave a stiff nod. because saying it out loud would make it real and she wasn’t ready for that.

the rest of practice passed in a haze for chaewon, her body moved on autopilot, but her mind was somewhere else entirely.

she watched yn take a sip from her water bottle, eyes half lidded, calm like she had all the time in the world. the others were.  gathering their things, slipping into hoodies and grabbing their bags, and chaewon already knew what yn was going to say before the words even left her mouth.

“you guys can head out without me, i’m gonna stay and practice a little more.”

the girls nodded, it wasn’t anything new. kazuha hesitated, sending yn a brief, worried glance, but left without a word.

and chaewon?

she stayed. because of course she did.

yn hadn’t even realized chaewon was still in the room not until she glanced at the mirror and caught the reflection of the leader,  standing silently behind her.

she turned, brows furrowed. “why are you still here?”

chaewon didn’t answer right away. she just stared, frozen in place, like her own thoughts were holding her hostage.

this was too much.

she couldn’t keep living like this with yn constantly in her head, wrapped around every thought in ways that felt all wrong. her presence was suffocating and addictive. chaewon hated the way her heart pounded at the sound of yn’s voice, hated how it only got worse now that yn’s full attention was on her, now that they were finally alone.

and maybe that was the real reason she stayed.

because some part of her, no matter how much she tried to deny it was starting to want that attention. to crave it.

maybe she always had.

“why do you stay so late?”

yn blinked, caught off guard by the question. her eyes widened slightly, and chaewon didn’t blame her she had surprised herself too. since when did she care what yn was doing?

well… not never.

this was just the first time that truth was slipping into the open for both of them.

“to practice,” yn replied simply, but there was a hesitation in her voice that hadn’t been there before.

it was obvious the question had thrown her off.

chaewon didn’t know what she was doing. it felt like her mouth was moving faster than her brain.

“but you already get enough practice. it’s late… kazuha seemed pretty worried.”

yn’s face twisted slightly as she turned to fully face her, the playfulness in her features gone. “zuha’s always worried.”

“yeah, but—”

“why are you really here, chaewon?”

the words cut through the room like a blade sharp, direct, and nothing like the usual yn. and for the first time that night, chaewon had no idea what to say.

chaewon’s brain was going a mile a minute.

her heart was slamming against her ribs, her thoughts tangling into knots she couldn’t undo fast enough. yn’s question echoed in her ears why are you really here, chaewon?

she opened her mouth, then closed it. panic swelled in her chest.

her throat felt dry, her hands clenched at her sides. 

say something. anything.

“because…” she breathed out, voice barely there, “you’ve been on my mind since last night.”

the words slipped out like a secret she didn’t mean to tell.

and it stunned them both.

yn’s brows lifted slightly, but her face was unreadable. frozen.

chaewon stumbled over the silence like it hurt.

“I—I don’t know how to explain it,” she rushed out, words tumbling in chaos, “I just… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

yn didn’t blink. she just stared.

chaewon kept going, unraveling by the second.

“your voice, your face, even the way you looked at me. I—it’s messing with my head. I feel weird. not like myself. and U need to get rid of this feeling but it’s getting worse. stronger. I don’t know what to do.”

her voice cracked at the end, and for a moment, she looked like a girl completely lost in her own storm.

yn’s expression changed.

not softened—shattered.

her eyes filled with something heavy, something sharp, and then she spoke, her voice like broken glass.

“you’re an asshole.”

chaewon blinked, stunned. “what?”

“do you enjoy playing with me?” yn snapped, cutting her off. her voice was louder now, but shaking. “you’ve had me on your mind? now? after everything?”

chaewon opened her mouth, but nothing came out she was too busy drowning in the sight of yn. even angry, even hurt, she was devastatingly beautiful.her chest rising and falling fast. chaewon’s eyes trailed her without meaning to face, shoulders, down her arms, her trembling hands.

“you’ve done enough,” she spat, voice breaking, “but pretending to care now? that’s the worst part.”

chaewon’s throat tightened painfully. a lump sat there like a stone, unmoving.

“yn, wait—”

“no. you know what? maybe I’ll go home.”

yn grabbed her bag, shoving things inside with shaking hands, her back to chaewon.

chaewon’s lungs felt like they were caving in. her eyes stung. her nails dug into her palms. she hated this. this loss of control. this guilt. this ache.

and worst of all knowing she caused it.

“yn—” she tried again, desperate.

but yn didn’t even look at her.

she didn’t say a word as she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out.

the door shut behind her with a quiet, final click and suddenly, the room felt too big. too silent. too cold.

chaewon stood alone in the middle of the practice room.

staring at the space yn had left behind.

and for the first time in a long time, she had no idea how to fix any of it.

[fadingchaosgoatee]

# MAMMA MIA — chapter forty-three!

there’s always been one rule in the group: don’t bring up y/n. no one really knows why, but it’s clear sophia would rather leave her ex-best friend in the past. once inseparable, their friendship dissolved after a summer camp that no one talks about, and y/n vanished, moving god-knows-where without so much as a goodbye. some say it was a fight. others say it was something more. only sophia knows the truth—or maybe not even she does. now, as the third year at dream academy begins, sophia is blindsided by y/n's unexpected return. gone is the familiar, easygoing childhood bestfriend she remembers. in her place is someone sharper, colder, and—unfortunately for sophia—hotter than ever. (who gave her the permission to look so fine?)

WOMEN SCARING WOMEN

masterlist ✮⋆｡˚📽️ next

yoonchae did summon a demon, js not the kind they were expecting

@gablmk @goofymickeyr @saysirhc @kathleenmikaelson @soobnotfound @iisayfa @magixpracticality @sed7ction @1luvkarina @linnnsworld @hotluvlet @bauzer @saranglasses @kkoga @chaesitonmyface @arihiu @peanutbutterlover05 @kristalag @bulgik @meiyaes @solentient @yuzeemin @reey0w @vrtualstar @justtluvrr @fruityg0rl @cyberbonesworld @haerinkisser @lafortezalover @cassiespoiler @skz-xii @ninguitar @kimminjswife @yeetaberry127 @p1hbrook @hazel-tanthamore22 @caitlynglazer @minjvers @tormaa1 @nwjnsloona @itzkatflixs @namojoon @falling-intoo-deep @waitsobs @blushmimi @cindergorge TAGLIST CLOSED

[fadingchaosgoatee]

# MAMMA MIA — chapter fourty!

there’s always been one rule in the group: don’t bring up y/n. no one really knows why, but it’s clear sophia would rather leave her ex-best friend in the past. once inseparable, their friendship dissolved after a summer camp that no one talks about, and y/n vanished, moving god-knows-where without so much as a goodbye. some say it was a fight. others say it was something more. only sophia knows the truth—or maybe not even she does. now, as the third year at dream academy begins, sophia is blindsided by y/n's unexpected return. gone is the familiar, easygoing childhood bestfriend she remembers. in her place is someone sharper, colder, and—unfortunately for sophia—hotter than ever. (who gave her the permission to look so fine?)

wc: 904 (backstory or smth)

OUR LAST SUMMER

“CAN YOU SIT STILL?” sophia hisses under her breath as she grabs you harshly by the chin, fed up from your squirming for the past few minutes. 

you didn’t mean to end up in this predicament, really. you’d merely just wanted to make a small house out of twigs somewhere near the heart of the forest behind camp to impress sophia (god the things you’d do for her validation) and away from those annoying prying eyes of your fellow campers, when you ended up tripping on a tree root and came toppling down a creek, effectively gashing your forehead and knees.

you don’t know how sophia’s immediately found you within seconds of the incident, because the next thing you knew after the cut on your forehead had started oozing blood, her hands flew to your cheeks and her honey eyes bore into yours, squinted and concerned. you hadn’t even bypassed the first stage of the plan—gather wood—and you’re already banged up. oh, foolish thinking.

“i mean, seriously, what the hell were you thinking? not only are you grubby—” she makes a point by nudging your dirt stained hands, “half of your face is completely covered by blood.”

sophia kept rambling on about about the dangers of what you’d done, and how you probably would’ve looked worse has she not found you when she did, scolding akin to what you imagine you’d receive from your mother if she’d found out about this little adventure of yours that left you with a huge cut, splitting your skin from the tail of your right eyebrow and stopping in the middle of your forehead in an angle, inwardly wincing at the thought of sophia morphing into your mother.

she had dragged you back into reality with a harsh press of the cotton ball, hard enough to pull a hiss from your lips, but not hard enough to make you double forward, eyes so intense you were sure her gaze could cut rocks. “are you even listening to me? i was asking what you were doing in the woods.”

god, she looked so ethereal angry and concerned like this. maybe you’ll piss her off more.

“uh, i was trying to make a small house like in those primitive vide—ow, eli! be more gentle! it hurts like a bitch, you kno—ow!” sophia had huffed at your statement, becoming more and more agitated by each word that slipped from your tongue. how idiotic could you be? wandering so far in the forest and injuring yourself this bad that just by looking at the huge gash on your forehead, her heart aches?

“you’re an idiot. i don’t know what you’re playing at here, but that was a dumb decision.” she snarkily replied, pulling the blood-soaked cotton ball back and chucking it in the bin, a permanent looking indent in her brows making a home on her face from your responses.

“seemed like the best idea at the time.” you mumbled in response, letting her grasp your face to stop the constant movement of your head every time she dabbed the alcohol-infused cotton ball on the cut. silence stretched.

assessing the work she’d done on your cut a few moments later, the furrow on her brow eased up slightly at the sight of your forehead and knees tended to and covered by bandages, peace settling in her chest now that you’re away from danger’s grasp. 

her hand reached to wipe the stain of dirt on your cheek. you leaned into her touch voluntarily.

“why’d you do it?” she whispered, and she barely recognised the warmth emitting from your palms as they splayed on her waist, nose scrunching.

“i wanted to make something we could go to without anyone else knowing. something only for the two of us. and i guess… i don’t know—i wanted to impress you.” you’d shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world, but to sophia, your confession of making something to impress her had her heart soaring and beating erratically, because you’d murmured it like it was as natural as breathing, like she was the centre of your world and your only truth.

the sun filtered through the infirmary’s half opened blinds, casting a warm glow in the room. the words tumbled past her lips before she could stop them, faster than her mind could comprehend.

“i like you.”

and the way you gaped at her, eyes twinkling and staring at her like she hung the damn moon made her think you’d reciprocate her feelings. until the nurse and the camp counsellor walked in with your bags, everything happening way too quickly within a short span of time that it hadn’t even registered to her that you hadn’t said anything back, until you were being driven away by your parents and the counsellor had said that you were going home.

it was the last day of summer camp. you’d promised to help her pack her bags and she’d promised to help you pack yours. it was the last day of summer camp. you weren’t even there to carve your name on the tree and leave your mark on the earth—a tradition. she had to carve it for you. it was the last day of summer camp, she didn’t even know you'd be moving to nyc until the drive home. since then, home had morphed into an unfamiliar being, a constant absence in presence she’d long sought for.

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i feel crazy bear w me pls ts bum asl🥀

@gablmk @goofymickeyr @saysirhc @kathleenmikaelson @soobnotfound @iisayfa @magixpracticality @sed7ction @1luvkarina @linnnsworld @hotluvlet @bauzer @saranglasses @kkoga @chaesitonmyface @arihiu @peanutbutterlover05 @kristalag @bulgik @meiyaes @solentient @yuzeemin @reey0w @vrtualstar @justtluvrr @fruityg0rl @cyberbonesworld @haerinkisser @lafortezalover @cassiespoiler @skz-xii @ninguitar @kimminjswife @yeetaberry127 @p1hbrook @hazel-tanthamore22 @caitlynglazer @minjvers @tormaa1 @nwjnsloona @itzkatflixs @namojoon @falling-intoo-deep @waitsobs @blushmimi @cindergorge TAGLIST CLOSED

[fadingchaosgoatee]

Title: Say It Again

Pairing: Huh Yunjin x fem!6th member reader

Warnings: oral, use of strap, teasing, secret relationship, language/slang kink, mild dom!Yunjin, playful tone with emotional intimacy

Summary: You're the sixth member of LE SSERAFIM and secretly dating your roommate, Yunjin. After a day off, what begins as another one of her casual English slang lessons turns into something more—when she decides a few words deserve a “visual demonstration.” Turns out, learning can be very hands-on when your teacher is feeling mischievous.

The soft hum of the city outside was muffled by the thick dorm windows, leaving only the occasional rumble of a car passing in the distance. Inside, the LE SSERAFIM dorm was quiet. Kazuha and Eunchae were out late, Sakura was napping with her door closed, and Chaewon had curled up on the couch with a book, headphones in. It was a rare day off — one they all desperately needed.

You were in your shared room, seated cross-legged on your bed with a half-eaten bag of chips beside you, a notebook open on your lap. Yunjin, or Jennifer as she liked to be called when she was in one of her playful moods, was sprawled on her stomach on the floor, a pencil twirling between her fingers as she leaned her cheek against her free hand.

“You still wanna learn more?” she asked, glancing up at you with that lazy, teasing smile that always made your chest warm.

“Of course,” you replied, smiling back. “You promised you’d teach me more English slang today.”

Yunjin propped herself up on her elbows, the pencil dropping to the floor with a clatter. “Right, right. Can’t have my girlfriend getting roasted on Weverse for mixing up ‘lit’ and ‘shit.’”

You threw a chip at her, laughing. “I did not do that on purpose! It sounded the same when you said it!”

She grinned and rolled onto her side, her long legs kicking up lazily as she reached for your notebook. “Alright, baby. Let’s level up. Today’s class is… Advanced English with Jennifer.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “What kind of ‘advanced’?”

Yunjin flipped to a fresh page in your notebook and dramatically wrote in big, messy letters:

SEX SLANG 101.

Your eyes widened, and you burst out laughing. “What?! No way! Are you seriously teaching me this?”

“Yup,” she said with a completely straight face. “You said you wanted to talk to international fans more. What if they ask you what ‘blow job’ means?”

You flushed instantly. “They’re not gonna ask that!”

“You don’t know that,” Yunjin said, scooting closer to sit on the bed across from you. “What if one of them tweets something like, ‘y/n can blow me like a flute,’ and you’re just like ‘aww cute’ and retweet it?”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “Stop, oh my god…”

Yunjin leaned in, laughter bubbling out of her. “You’re so cute when you get flustered. Okay, class is in session. First word: ‘head.’”

You peeked through your fingers. “Like… the thing on your neck?”

Yunjin nodded solemnly. “Yes. But also no. In slang, it means oral sex. Like… giving someone head.”

You blinked. “But why would it be called that?”

“I don’t make the rules,” she said with a shrug. “Next word: ‘ride.’”

You frowned. “Like… a car?”

“Mm, again, yes. But also… you know, like when someone’s on top during sex.”

Your face was burning now, and Yunjin was clearly having the time of her life. She listed a few more, each more ridiculous than the last — “hit it,” “grind,” “tap that,” “pull out,” “blow your back out.” You couldn’t tell what was real anymore. Especially because she started giving fake meanings halfway through, all with the same innocent expression.

“‘Blow your back out’ means… giving someone a really good back massage,” she said sweetly.

You squinted at her. “You’re lying.”

“Nope,” she replied with a halo of sincerity. “A massage so good it realigns your spine.”

“Yunjin.”

“Yes?”

You dropped your notebook and crawled toward her. “Tell me the real meanings.”

She raised a brow. “Are you sure you can handle the truth?”

You leaned closer. “I think I deserve to know what I’m actually saying.”

She grinned. “Alright. Then how about I show you?”

Your breath caught.

There was a pause — thick, slow, hot — and in it, you saw the gleam in her eyes, that knowing smirk, the way her body leaned in with purpose. You swallowed.

“Show me…?” you repeated, heart pounding.

Yunjin’s voice dipped low, seductive and teasing. “A visual demonstration. You know. So you don’t forget.”

You were speechless, and that was all she needed.

She kissed you.

It started soft — the brush of her lips over yours, one hand sliding to your jaw. But Yunjin never stayed soft for long. Her mouth opened, pulling a breathy gasp from you as her tongue flicked teasingly against yours. She climbed into your lap without breaking the kiss, straddling you as her hands slid under your shirt.

“Let me teach you properly,” she murmured into your mouth. “Word by word.”

You nodded, breathless, dizzy with the way she felt on top of you.

She whispered the first one as she tugged your shirt over your head.

“Head.”

You gasped again as her mouth kissed down your neck, then lower, trailing heat between your breasts. Her tongue circled your nipple, slow and wet, and your hips jerked. You whimpered.

“This,” she said, sliding down, “is what giving head feels like.”

She pulled your shorts down, kissing over your thighs, spreading your legs gently. You bit your lip, already slick, already throbbing with anticipation. Yunjin licked a stripe up your folds and smiled against you when your breath hitched.

“Gonna give my girl head like she deserves,” she murmured, and then her mouth was on you.

You moaned, hands fisting in the sheets, as her tongue worked magic — slow, teasing strokes, then fast flicks. She sucked gently at your clit and you cried out.

She looked up from between your legs with wicked eyes. “Say it.”

“H-head,” you stammered, body trembling.

“Good girl.”

She kept going until your legs were shaking, then pulled back just before you tipped over. You whined in protest, but she was already crawling back up, licking her lips.

“Next word,” she whispered. “Ride.”

You barely had time to breathe before she tugged her shirt off, revealing toned lines and soft skin you knew too well but never enough. She kissed you again, hungry and hot, and reached for the drawer beside your bed.

The strap she pulled out was familiar — sleek, dark, and just for nights like this.

“You ride me,” she whispered. “That’s what it means.”

You nodded eagerly, already aching for it, as she helped you lower yourself onto her lap. She held the base steady as you sank down slowly, inch by inch, gasping at the stretch. Your fingers dug into her shoulders.

Once seated, you rolled your hips experimentally, moaning at the pressure.

“That’s it,” Yunjin groaned, hands on your waist. “Now ride me, baby.”

You moved — hips lifting and falling, grinding in slow circles. Her lips found your neck again, biting softly as your pace increased. Her name spilled from your lips again and again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” she rasped.

You whimpered. “Yunjin—ah—feels so full—”

“Tell me another word,” she panted.

“G-grind,” you moaned.

She bucked her hips up. “Good girl.”

You kept moving until your thighs were burning and your stomach was tight with heat, so close, so damn close—

She gripped your hips and fucked up into you hard, again and again, until the coil snapped. You came with a cry, clinging to her, body shaking in waves.

Yunjin held you through it, peppering kisses over your shoulder and neck.

After a moment, she pulled you close, letting you rest on her chest, still tangled together.

“You okay?” she asked softly, brushing your hair back.

You nodded against her. “Best… English lesson ever.”

She laughed. “Glad to be of service.”

You kissed her jaw. “So what’s ‘blow your back out’ really mean?”

She smirked. “Exactly what I just did.”

You groaned, and she laughed harder, holding you tighter.

---

[fadingchaosgoatee]

┈─★ 𝘵𝘶𝘺𝘰 ( 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴. )

         ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿? 𝗼𝗵 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝘁. contract killer megan skiendiel is trying to earn the favor of her boss, the most notorious cartel lord in the country. to prove herself, he tasks her with guarding his most prized possession— his daughter, daniela avanzini, who has a reputation for being the biggest fucking brat the world has seen.

         ˎˊ˗  🔪  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  ୭˚.  ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

   ➴ pairing: 𝘮𝘦𝘪𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘪 — bodyguard!megan x cartel princess!daniela.

          ➴ genre + wc: 21k, cartel/mafia!au, bodyguard!au, speedrunning enemies to lovers, forced proximity, bonnie and clyde, guard dog megan and her princess dani, they both are psychos just in different ways 🥀, lwk also hades and persephone while im at it!!

   ➴ you might want to tune in...: tuyo- rodrigo amarante. ♫ full playlist can be heard here.

           ┈─★ a/n: MY FIRST MEMBER X MEMBER FIC RAHHHHH this is a wayyyy diff direction than most of my kats fics but i had so so so much fun challenging myself w it, hoping you guys enjoy something a lil less fluffy from me <3

  cw:// violence, descriptions of blood, deaths, implied torture, guns, suggestive scenes, there's a scene w mild choking i think, also bloodplay kinda? but in like a pg-13 way not a nc-17 way, i don't think but gonna warn anyways!

megan’s sneaker taps anxiously against the terra cotta tile of the luxury mansion home. she’s in her boss’s office, one she’s only been in a handful of times, trying to avoid eye contact with the man as he blows puffs of cigar smoke in her face.

“skelly,” he says simply, leaning forward across his desk. “can i trust you?”

megan can hear the irritated huff of his henchmen behind her, guarding the door. she hears sophia, there as his witness, quickly shush them, and megan breathes a silent sigh of gratitude to the elder guardian angel, always looking out for her. 

it was no secret that megan and sophia were anomalies in the ranks of the avanzini cartel. it rubbed many people the wrong way that these two young girls could work their way up so easily through the ranks, but their work spoke louder than unhappy grumbles from lazy mobsters ever would. 

“absolutely, sir,” megan nods, her throat dry. 

“i have a job for you. anything happens, and it’s you, and everything you’ve ever cared about. do you understand?” he leans his head down to try and catch megan’s gaze, grunting in displeasure. “look at me skelly.”

megan grimaces but meets his eyes nonetheless. “i won’t let you down, boss.”

“you don’t have a choice,” he laughs. “go. the driveway. i’ll meet you.”

megan and sophia quickly make their way out of his office, following orders. 

“megan,” sophia says, her voice stern. “this goes well, and you could move up.”

that’s the goal, megan thinks to herself, breathing nervously, as the two find themselves outside and face to face with a gorgeous classic cadillac. 

“that’s my car?” megan asks in disbelief. 

“reinforced glass, steel plated,” sophia smiles, tapping the roof. “extra machinery in the backseat, enough clips to last you into your next lifetime.”

“what am i transporting?” megan asks, feeling herself grow only more eager to prove herself.

“my greatest treasure,” don avanzini beams, emerging from the door. he ashes his cigar beneath his foot, peering around as if he’s seeking someone. “you and daniela have met, no?”

“daniela?” megan’s brows knit together in confusion. “what?”

“what’d you think?” he squints at her. “i was going to have you in an armored truck hauling coke across state lines?”

“uh…” megan scratches at the back of her neck awkwardly. 

“there’s a deal going down this week, and i just want insurance that my baby girl is safe somewhere else in case these russians want to play dirty. i have places for her to stay, down in miami. get her there by sunday, keep her busy at the beach, lay low, wait until things have cleared up here,” he instructs, as if she’s babysitting his pet. not his literal daughter. 

“sir—” she protests, but she isn’t brave enough to argue even if the point is there. 

megan panics. she’s a hitman. good at killing, good at subduing. she isn’t built to be a bodyguard— attentive, caring, gentle. she’s lost all notions of human connection long, long ago. it’s what makes her so good at her job. she is a robot, with one intention. end a life, at all costs. 

“you have a broad skillset, don’t you? keep her safe, keep her happy.” he says simply. “that’s your job. do you understand?”

megan grits her teeth, realizing she won’t be getting out of this. “of course, sir.”

“you’d bring less attention to her than having my guys trail her everywhere,” he says, as if the rationale is obvious. he tilts his head down to meet megan’s eyes, his gaze steely. “do i make myself clear, skelly?”

“crystal, sir,” megan breathes, trying to erase any hints of irritation. what is she supposed to do?

“skelly, i mean it. a single hair off of her head, and i’ll kill you,” he reiterates, his tone going cold. “do whatever you have to do to keep her unharmed.”

megan nods, her jaw grinding tensely. “i’ve got it, sir.”

they’re caught in a staring contest, one that megan fears she won’t win, but before they can get too much further into it, there’s the sharp crack of the front door slamming open.

megan hears her before she sees her— the grating, shrieking voice that cuts through the sticky atlanta summer morning, disturbing the peace of the secluded avanzini residence. the curly haired girl barrels past the front entrance, a man hurriedly behind her, looking panicked as she rages on.

“the next time you stick me with a fucking idiot, can you at least make sure they’re literate?” she berates him, storming past. “how many times can i spell elf bar before it fucking clicks?”

“they don’t sell those here any more,” the man sighs, stumbling behind her. “the other ones are just as good—”

“not my problem,” she snaps, cutting him off. “i want the fucking elf bar.”

“daniela, my angel,” don avanzini beams, reaching out to her.

megan gulps down the lump in her throat. 

“see you in two weeks, hermosa.” he presses a kiss to the top of her curls, and she recoils in irritation. 

her eyes instantly snap up to meet megan’s. 

“shut up,” the girl groans. “i’m stuck with you in miami?”

megan says nothing.

“oh perfect, i always wanted a silent fucking baboso following me around,” she snaps irritatedly, waving her hand in front of megan’s face. “what’s this one called?”

“you’ll be riding with skelly,” sophia says, smirking knowingly at megan.

“fucking kill me,” daniela groans. “papi, why can’t we just take the jet?”

“there was a crash at the private hangar,” sophia cuts in. “we think it has the russians tied to it.”

don avanzini nods in approval. 

“whatever.” daniela rolls her eyes. “my bag is inside, gustavo is bringing it. start the fucking car.”

megan blinks in shock at the girl’s demands, but nobody else seems surprised by her attitude, so the girl complies. sophia waves them off and after their bags are loaded up, megan pulls the car out and onto the street. 

daniela, whose skin fills the car with sweet pear and vanilla musk, has her head tossed back against the headrest with a scowl on her face that hasn’t dropped. megan, who has never been good at small talk, stays awkwardly silent as the curly-haired girl simply seethes in the passenger’s seat. 

“how long is the drive?”

megan blinks. daniela is staring at her expectantly, brows arched in clear irritation. 

megan knows the answer is 10 hours, but the response gets caught in her throat. maybe she’ll be best off staying silent. 

“if i wanted to talk to a wall, i would have gotten high before this,” daniela snips back, clearly unhappy with this silent treatment. 

megan is too focused on the road to figure out something to say, which only seems to infuriate the princess even further. 

“i’ve gotten every single person before you fired,” daniela says matter of factly, examining her manicured nails. “each of them.”

megan swallows back a beat of hesitation, hoping to not let the threats crack her. it’s a bad habit, needing to think this hard and this long before she speaks, but daniela seems less than eager to wait her out. 

“talk. speak. say woof or something.” daniela leans over the center console to examine the bodyguard, poking at her with her index finger as if she’s imagining her. “c’mon, skelly.”

megan blinks in disbelief. what is this girl’s problem?

“you’re annoying me,” daniela grits, slumping back into her seat. “and i’m not very pleasant when i’m annoyed.”

you’re not very pleasant, period, megan has half a mind to say. 

irritated by the lack of response, daniela sticks her hand out of the window, before getting an idea. 

she unbuckles her seatbelt and sticks her head out, before moving on to her entire torso. within seconds, she’s halfway out the car window, a shit-eating grin on her face as megan’s eyes go wide. they’re going rather fast on the freeway, and a poorly timed lane change could easily crush the heiress between another car. 

“don’t do that,” megan grits, reaching for her. 

“you can talk,” daniela beams, her bid for getting her way working exactly how she hoped it would. she slumps back into her seat. “good dog.”

the bodyguard furrows her brows at the insult. “don’t call me that.”

“you want me to drive 10 hours in silence? i’d rather kill myself,” daniela groans, reaching out an expectant hand. “give me the aux.”

megan complies, as if to just grant herself a brief reprieve from daniela’s incessant whining.

daniela eyes megan curiously, before her eyes come back to the phone screen as she selects a new playlist. 

“you’re supposed to be my bodyguard? you’re not even scary.”

megan feels her brow twitch. 

i’m a hitman actually. i hate this whole bodyguard shit. i’m so, so much better just killing people instead of being stuck with your fucking bratty entitled ass. if you knew the kind of shit i could do to people— oh, and i’m fucking good at it too. i’m a good fucking hitman. 

she lets out a quiet, even breath. 

“i bring less attention to you,” she says simply. 

“i guess,” daniela snorts. “until a dude twice your size is beating your ass.”

megan wants to crack a smile, but she won’t give daniela the satisfaction. 

“that won’t happen,” she says, and leaves it at that. daniela rolls her eyes and turns the music up even louder, scrolling further on her phone. 

-

they stop somewhere outside of atlanta to fuel up before the gas stations become sparse, and if their introduction wasn’t rocky enough, megan realizes daniela has no intentions of being easy to work with. 

megan steps out of the car to refuel it, when she spots daniela swinging the passenger door open. 

“where are you going?” megan asks, her eyes widening.

“i want to go buy a new pen,” daniela says simply, holding up her vape in megan’s face. 

megan wrinkles her nose and swats it away. “i can do that for you. you need to stay in the car.”

“i want to do it by myself,” daniela argues back instantly. megan feels her eye twitch. 

“i can’t let you out of my sight, i’m sorry.”

“i’m your boss. not the other way around. if i don’t want to do something, i’m not doing it,” daniela snaps, shoving past the bodyguard. “get out of my way.”

“avanzini, please. you can’t be that far from me,” megan pleads, glancing around to assess the area. she curses silently for whoever thought they’d be a good match. “i don’t want to have to do this.”

“yeah, not scared of you,” daniela laughs, walking off towards the gas station. “like at all.”

megan takes another quick glance around. nobody visible within blocks. she lets out a silent prayer and realizes this is more of a brute force scenario than any attempt at rationalizing. don avanzini’s words echo in megan’s ears, the threat of anything happening and the risks she can’t manage to take. 

before daniela can take another step forward, megan rushes over and swoops her up in her powerful grasp. daniela’s body tenses in shock, and megan uses the brief moment to overpower her and lift her up, throwing the heiress over her shoulder. it’s embarrassing, to be carrying a fully grown woman like a caveman, but her job is to keep her as safe as possible at all costs, and there’s few places safer for a mafia boss’s daughter than a bulletproof car full of weapons. 

“put me the fuck down!” daniela instantly screeches, wriggling to try and get out of the hold. 

but megan has a firm arm wrapped around her legs, her free hand pressing daniela’s back into her shoulder to stabilize her, and the heiress seems to realize she’s truly about to be hauled back into the car by brute force. 

“i’m sorry,” megan says quietly. 

“you’re fucking dead,” daniela seethes. 

“i feel alright about my chances,” megan mumbles under her breath, thankful daniela can’t see the shit-eating grin on her face lest it piss off the princess any further. 

-

another two hours trickle by in the car, and megan is grateful that daniela’s too pissed off to say anything else to her. 

megan’s training lets her stay focused throughout anything, but she can acknowledge that the silence is feels like a gift. they’ve only known each other a few short hours, but megan dreads the idea of just how much worse daniela may get the more comfortable she feels. 

she’s not cut out for this bodyguard shit— on her usual missions, it’s days spent alone, trailing a target, taking down information, watching their patterns and their habits. it’s solitude, patience, waiting for the perfect moment to set something up and make it look like an accident, to frame someone else, to make someone disappear. megan bites her tongue. she’s spent so long thriving as this killing machine, she’s not even sure what it’s like to be human any more. 

her thoughts are broken by the heiress finally piping up. she points a manicured finger at the next exit, motioning to the giant rest stop sign. 

“stop here,” she demands. 

“no,” megan denies her instantly. “we have a deadline.”

daniela grits her teeth so harshly, it makes an audible noise. 

“i have to fucking pee, skelly.”

she looks over, and daniela’s arms are crossed angrily over her chest, shooting daggers at the bodyguard with her gaze alone. 

“okay,” megan relents, letting out a huff.

the car drifts to a stop in the closest parking spot possible to the rest stop facilities. daniela swings the door open irritatedly and megan is quick to unbuckle to follow behind.

“can i not pee by myself?” daniela snaps, motioning to the empty parking lot surrounding them. “there’s clearly nobody here.”

megan pauses to assess. they’re the only car parked, and the freeway itself is quiet. the likelihood of someone knowing where they are and following them without a vehicle in sight is slim to none.

the bodyguard lets out a quiet breath, turning to wait outside the door of the restroom. “you have 2 minutes.”

daniela furrows her brows in protest. “i drank a lot of—”

“2 minutes,” megan says firmly, motioning for her to go. “time starts now.”

if daniela were to roll her eyes any harder, it’s quite possible they’d scrape her eye sockets clean, but she complies nonetheless and steps into the bathroom. megan walks back towards the car and sits on the hood, looking down at her watch to start counting— 120 seconds, not a moment more.

she wonders if maybe she’s overdoing it, or maybe being too rigid in her expectations. she tries to put herself in daniela’s shoes, trying to get into her head. she wonders if don avanzini explained the circumstances to her, if she thinks it’s just a joyride or if she knows that her life is truly in danger, if that might explain her irritation with everything—

megan freezes as she realizes she didn’t check the bathrooms themselves. rookie fucking mistake. she looks up immediately and spots a figure running out of the back entrance, feeling her pulse race as she reaches down for the holster of her gun.

a blink. she realizes the running figure has dark, curly hair, pulled half up.

“fucking daniela,” megan hisses, getting out of the car, realizing the princess is making a run for it. 

megan is athletic enough to catch up, and without a single word, she scoops daniela up once more, swinging the girl’s body up over her shoulder effortlessly. daniela goes limp, like a cat caught trying to run out the door, clearly irritated that her attempt to escape was foiled.

“we have to stop meeting like this,” daniela deadpans, rolling her eyes.

“i’m literally begging you, avanzini,” megan huffs, lugging her, for the second stupid time that day, over her shoulder. 

“you’re so annoying, skelly,” the princess bites back, saying her name like it’s an insult.

“do you get that it’s your life on the line?” megan questions as she hauls the heiress back to the car. “a lot of people would pay a lot of money to have you.”

“oh, i’m so aware,” daniela snaps back wickedly.

megan feels her cheeks flush, daniela’s tone catching her off guard. she sets her down quickly but is sure to block her in against the car, just to keep her from trying to run off once more. 

“sorry, i didn’t mean–” she starts, but the brunette cuts her off, slumping into the passenger’s seat with a sigh of defeat.

“just drive the stupid fucking car.” 

-

the rest of the drive goes on in relative silence. by the time they’ve made it past the florida border, the sun is already setting. megan feels herself exhale in relief. daniela made their first day hellish, but she’s out in one piece.

megan is ready to drive them to the motel they’re staying at, mentally prepared to hear the princess whine about how it isn’t a 5 star luxury villa, but instead, the brunette surprises her as she sits up.

“i want to go dancing,” she says out of nowhere, rolling the windows down.

megan listens, and she can hear it— the quiet thud of latin music coming from somewhere in the neighborhood. megan had never let herself listen to music on the job, the fear of getting distracted was much too big of a risk to take.

“not happening. too dangerous. you heard your dad,” megan shakes her head.

“and where is my dad?” dani questions challengingly, motioning around them.

megan’s caught off guard, stammering to try and come up with an answer, but daniela quickly raises a finger to cut her off. 

“you got your first orders from him, but now, you work for me,” she says, “and i want to go dancing. i’m not even saying by myself, you can be there or whatever.”

“i-“ megan starts, but daniela presses on.

“you’re making a terrible first impression, skelly, and you’re pissing me off,” the brunette goes on, before batting her eyes devilishly at the bodyguard. “you don’t want me to give my dad a bad review of you, do you? you want him to like you?”

megan bites back on her jaw, feeling backed into a corner, before she finally relents. 

“if we go, you stay in my sight the entire time, and we leave at 9.”

daniela’s eyes light up.

“11.”

“10:15.”

“fine,” the heiress sighs sharply, but her eyes light up in excitement. she unbuckles herself and climbs into the backseat, and megan quickly realizes the girl is undressing.

“w-what are you doing?” megan coughs, trying to avert her gaze from daniela’s increasingly naked body in the rearview mirror.

“not going to waste my time making us pull over just so i can change. my bag is literally right here,” the brunette rolls her eyes, as if it’s obvious. “don’t let me catch you peeking, skelly.”

megan clears her throat and does her best to focus on the road as daniela changes in the backseat, feeling her cheeks flush. 

-

megan isn’t going to make the same mistake twice, and does a quick lap around the building to get the layout before they enter the latin bar. daniela, in a impossibly short dress and too-tall heels, her hair pinned up, brings an undeniable amount of attention to herself just by existing. megan can feel the eyes sizing the heiress up as they enter the doorway— no wonder don avanzini wanted a protection detail that’d be a little more subtle… daniela turns heads easily enough on her own.

the bodyguard watches each step of the bartender mixing daniela’s drink, constantly scanning the room, constantly assessing. daniela goes off to dance, as she had demanded, but makes it a point to stay in megan’s line of sight, waving annoyedly at megan every so often as if to acknowledge she’s there. megan wonders if they’ll finally be able to coexist without killing each other, maybe all she’ll have to do is a few compromises here and there to keep the princess happy.

if megan will give the brat anything to her credit, it’s that daniela holds her end of the bargain, and as soon as the clock strikes 10:15, megan nods at her and daniela rolls her eyes but complies nonetheless. 

they drive to the motel in silence, daniela complying (finally) with staying in the car while megan checks them in. the breeze is warm, comforting, and the hum of the neon motel signs are enough to numb megan’s brain into a sense of calm. they’ve ended the day in one piece, and megan is comfortable enough to think that maybe she’ll get the hang of this bodyguard thing in no time.

“next time, can you not stare me down like i’m some sort of prey animal? you were scaring off all my dance partners,” daniela complains, getting out of the car as megan parks them near their room.

“i thought you said i wasn’t even scary?” the taller girl quickly reminds her, getting out of the drivers seat.

“shut up, so annoying,” daniela rolls her eyes, and megan grins to herself at getting one over the princess. 

“i’ll take your bag,” she says, although daniela is already walking towards the door, clearly assuming it was implied. megan rolls her eyes. maybe she was too hopeful about daniela being a decent person she’d be able to tolerate.

“my shoes are hurting me,” the heiress whines, starting to limp after a few moments of walking in silence, nothing but the crunch of gravel beneath both their feet.

“shouldn’t have worn such crazy heels then,” megan answers simply.

“shouldn’t have worn those heels— kiss my ass,” dani mocks irritatedly. 

megan grimaces as she sees the way daniela’s limp worsens, and they’ve still got quite a way to go before they get to the room. “you’re going to give yourself a blister,” she warns.

daniela stops in her tracks, turning around to face the bodyguard. 

they’re face to face, close enough that megan can see the subtle smear of dani’s makeup from the sweat of dancing, she can see the glitter reflecting light off her cheekbones, she can smell the pear and vanilla radiating off of her body. megan feels her breath catch in her throat— she nearly goes dizzy from the proximity.

daniela blinks once, twice, at how close they are, but then re-focuses, reaching up both arms shamelessly towards megan.

“carry me.”

“what?” megan balks, nose scrunching in confusion.

“i’m tipsy, my feet fucking hurt, and you’re strong enough, i know you are. you’ve thrown me over your shoulder like i’m nothing,” daniela insists, closing and opening her fingers like a child asking to be picked up by their parent. she grins, the face of a girl clearly used to getting her way. “up, now, bodyguard.”

megan knows the obvious answer is to say no, but something in her pulls to the princess like a magnet. before she can think to deny her, dani is blinking up at her again, batting her eyes eagerly, and in a flash she’s wrapping her arms around megan’s shoulders. the bodyguard shifts the bag and easily scoops up daniela’s slim body bridal-style without a second thought, walking them both towards their room.

“thank youuu,” dani drawls, pleased to have been accommodated. she breathes out a sigh of relief, peering down at her feet as they dangle and bounce with each step megan takes. “for the record, skelly, i like this better than how you usually choose to carry me. i’m a fucking lady, mind you.”

“the way you fight me is very un-ladylike,” megan argues back, rolling her eyes. “i can carry you nicely when you behave.”

they enter the room and megan sets daniela gently on one of the two beds, doing a quick sweep of the room to ensure it’s safe. 

“i’m going to shower,” the brunette announces, kicking her shoes off carelessly. megan huffs and picks the shoes up, placing them neatly by the door. when she looks up, daniela has already slipped the dress off her shoulders, megan’s eyes briefly meeting bare skin once more before she spins around and covers her gaze with her hand, her cheeks burning red again.

“you don’t even want to try and peek?” daniela questions teasingly, clearly entertained by the bodyguard’s consistent reaction.

“no thank you,” megan feels the back of her neck burn.

“whatever,” the brunette groans, slipping into the bathroom. “guess you’re one of the good ones.”

megan looks down at her hands as she hears the door close and the water turn on. 

i’m really not, she thinks to herself. 

-

daniela sleeps through the night without issue, and megan is able to get a few hours of rest in from the chair in the corner where she stands guard. she orders a simple breakfast delivered to the front door, and keeps an eye on the window as she notices daniela stir from her sleep.

“this is for you.” megan offers the brunette the platter of food.

“thanks,” daniela hums, and megan thinks it might be the first time since they’ve met that she’s actually sincerely thanked her. the brunette rubs her eyes, yawning. “i want a coffee.”

“we can get one on the road,” megan assures her, offering daniela her bag. “i can give you 10 minutes to get ready, but we have to leave by then.”

the princess complies by some miracle, and soon enough, they’re back in the car for the rest of the drive to miami.

-

“do you speak spanish?” daniela asks, once again on aux as they drive through miles of the freeway.

“i barely understand it,” megan admits.

“you’ll want to learn if you want to keep working for my dad,” daniela tells her, and megan hates that she has a point. even if they’re based in the US, megan knows the avanzini cartel is rooted in cuban and venezuelan trading. sophia has always been good at learning enough phrases to ger her by and translate on behalf of the both of them.

plus, megan didn’t usually do much talking in her role working for don avanzini. there isn’t much to say to a hitman that the hitman has to answer back to. 

“i’m bad at new languages,” megan wrinkles her nose.

“you’ll figure it out,” daniela waves her off. the bodyguard can feel the hazel eyes on her, examining her, curiosity evident. “where’s skelly from?”

“i don’t think your dad can pronounce my last name,” megan admits a little too quickly, immediately hoping daniela doesn’t take offense.

but daniela simply lets out a snort, resting her head back against the headrest. 

“i bet he can’t, that moron. what’s your last name?” she asks.

“skiendiel,” megan tells her.  “he called me skeleton for a while. skelly just ended up sticking, i guess.”

“he’s so stupid. your name’s not that hard. he’s just lazy,” daniela shakes her head, before her voice softens in the slightest. “what’s your name name?”

megan peeks over at the passenger, and daniela has her head resting in her hand, eyes fixed on megan, her expression soft and curious. it’s the longest she’s ever seen dani off her phone, but most of all, it’s the most attentive to something other than herself that megan has ever seen.

“you don’t need to know that,” the bodyguard says quietly, eyes back on the road. “i just work for you.”

daniela furrows her brows and leans in closer to megan. “i want to know. tell me.”

“no,” megan pushes back, more firmly this time. 

the heiress huffs irritatedly and leans back in her seat. “you’re going to regret saying no to me, skelly.”

megan, feeling perhaps a bit too brave for her own good, pushes back once more.

“not used to it, avanzini?” she teases. “i’ll say it in spanish. no.”

“smartass,” daniela rolls her eyes, but the air is light between them. daniela plays another one of her playlists and lets the air fill with music as the cadillac blasts down the freeway.

megan stays alert, but she can feel her body relaxing. maybe daniela isn’t too bad after all.

-

daniela convinces her to stop at a restaurant, and unfortunately, the way they bicker over every little thing at the table eats up nearly half their afternoon. they’re nearly no closer to miami than they were when they set out that morning, and the sun is already going down. megan is briefly worried that don avanzini will have her head for being less than timely with delivering daniela to miami, but she hopes that keeping her in one piece is enough for him to be satisfied with her work.

megan, unsure of what possesses her, peels her eyes from the road to sneak a quick look at the heiress in the passenger seat. daniela has her legs folded and tucked under her, rambling about something on her instagram feed, and the voice that yesterday morning was impossibly aggravating has smoothed out into something more manageable. 

daniela keeps sticking her phone in megan’s face as the bodyguard drives, trying to show her the newest bikini she’s interested in or another concert she’s missed and is aggravated by, and megan doesn’t quite mind their ride being filled by dani’s unhinged rambles. megan is trained to notice details, but she’s certain her training didn’t teach her to focus on the slope of daniela’s nose, the charming little freckle above her eyebrow, the smooth curves of her jaw and how the skin that meets her neck feels like a trap for megan, stuck staring.

“eyes.”

“w-what?” megan shakes her head, caught off guard by the random statement.

“skelly, eyes on the fucking road!” daniela shrieks, pushing back in her seat as megan turns to realize there’s a giant truck stopped in their lane, hazards on. 

the bodyguard reaches out instinctively to block daniela from flying forward as she swerves quickly out of the way, pulse racing at the near-miss.

“you can’t keep sticking your phone in my face and expecting me to be able to focus on two things at once,” megan gripes, releasing dani from her grip.

“you weren’t looking at my phone,” daniela says quickly, too quickly, and megan feels the back of her ears burn. the stupid brat has the audacity to grin, shiny white teeth bright enough to distract her again, but megan won’t make the same mistake twice and get caught staring again.

before megan can defend herself, daniela has already moved on.

“i want to go dancing again,” she says, turning away to scan the road. “you either stop at the next city, or i sneak out of our room at night and you get in trouble. you pick.”

“no,” megan denies her simply.

“wrong answer,” daniela tsks in disappointment, before rolling the window down and cupping her hands around her mouth.

before megan can even ask what she’s doing, daniela starts screaming “help!” at the top of her lungs, waving her arms wildly.

“daniela,” megan barks, reaching over with her free hand to yank her back into the car. 

“you should have seen your face,” the brunette laughs, slumping back against the passenger’s seat breathlessly.

“not funny,” megan seethes, but by this point, she knows the routine and is relenting without a second argument. if there’s anything about the avanzini cartel heir, it’s that she’s ridiculously stubborn, annoyingly so.

roll the windows down, follow the music, and let daniela get changed in the backseat. it’s inconvenient, sure, but not exactly a deal breaker. she figures she’ll survive. 

by the time they pull up to the next club, the sun is setting. megan, always underdressed in baggy jeans and a loose hoodie, broken-in converse, looks the picture opposite of daniela, excitedly racing into the club in her barely-there top and skimpy shorts. megan pulls her hood over her head and assesses the environment, feeling her brain shift into high alert at how packed this club is compared to the one from the night before. 

daniela doesn’t seem the slightest bit concerned, ordering her drinks and disappearing into the crowd to dance the night away.

megan, back to a wall with her arms crossed over her chest, watches over from a distance, scanning constantly to assess the night. she keeps dani in her sight at all times, watching the girl lose herself to the music, care-free smile on her face as she moves between strangers and trades partners over and over. 

she’s not sure how much time has passed before daniela’s gaze meets hers, and megan feels herself flushing red again. she curses under her breath as daniela grins and starts making her way towards her. she’d love to avoid another tease of being caught staring again— after all, it is her job to look out for this girl,  but luckily, daniela seems focused elsewhere.

“skelly,” she greets, drawling out the nickname on her lips.

“avanzini,” the bodyguard nods politely. “having fun?” 

“i want you to dance with me, or a stranger does,” daniela says quickly, catching megan off guard. her body tenses, but dani simply reaches her hand out expectantly. “i think i’m safer with you, right?”

megan wants to argue. rationally, she can keep a better eye on her from a distance, not swarmed by the bodies of other people, and not raise any flags from tailing her too closely. but daniela is staring at her, with those sharp hazel eyes, issuing a silent challenge. megan feels her resolve slip. since when was it getting so hard to say no to this entitled, spoiled brat?

“i don’t know how to do this,” she mumbles frustratedly, her eyes scanning over daniela’s shoulder as daniela takes her hands in her own. 

“it’s not that hard,” the brunette shakes her head, trying to get megan to step in time with her to the pulsing salsa music. she brings her hand up to tap on megan’s cheek, a playful slap. “loosen up. you move like you have a stick in your ass.”

“hey,” megan whines, furrowing her brows.

“oh my god, she’s not a robot,” daniela laughs, draping one arm over megan’s shoulder, bringing their bodies closer. “finally, you’re letting loose. good dog.”

“enough,” the taller girl warns, avoiding daniela’s gaze as she continues to scan the area around them. but between daniela’s swaying body leading the tempo and the trance of the music, megan finds it easier than expected to keep up. her right hand holds dani’s own hand, and her left remains respectfully between her shoulder blades, but her body starts to make sense of the rhythm in due time, and within moments, she feels daniela’s gaze fixing up on her, the intensity of her stare feeling like red-hot heat on her skin.

“i thought you said you didn’t know how?” daniela arches a brow at megan’s surprising competence on the dance floor.

“i needed a second to catch up,” the bodyguard says simply. 

“fast learner,” daniela says, eyeing her partner.

“you’re very good,” megan compliments, reaching out to let dani do a spin. the brunette spins elegantly, and when she comes back into megan’s grasp, she’s pressing their bodies together, their cheeks nearly touching. it makes it easier to hear each other over the music, sure, but megan’s skin burns at the newfound proximity, feeling the heat radiating off of daniela’s exposed skin. 

“i would have loved to have been a dancer,” the heiress confesses after a moment, her voice softer. “but not much you can do when your dad is shipping you off every month. ‘hey guys, sorry, have to stop touring for a week ‘cause my dad pissed off the italian mafia and i have to go into witness protection again.’”

megan frowns as they continue to move in sync. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s whatever,” daniela shakes her head. she lets out a breath. “he’s so stupid. i don’t get why people worship him.”

“he’s a genius,” megan pushes back gently.

“he’s greedy, and he’s controlling,” daniela furrows her brows. “why have a kid when you’re just going to make them a puppet the whole time?”

“i can’t imagine,” megan says simply. 

daniela’s mouth opens to say something, but instead, she simply rests her forehead against megan’s shoulder. the gesture is tender, unexpectedly intimate, and megan feels her stomach lurch at the moment they’re sharing. she can’t remember the last time she had even hugged another person, much less danced with them, felt their weight against her, comforted them.

“thanks for listening to me,” daniela says, her voice soft. “and for dancing with me. haven’t had a good dance partner in a while.”

megan feels the words get stuck in her throat. what can she even offer? what could she possibly say?

the bodyguard gets stuck on her own words, and without thinking, rubs her hand in gentle circles on daniela’s back. the skin is soft under her fingers, and megan nearly recoils out of fear, worried she’ll hurt the girl somehow with her touch, but the gentle sigh that daniela lets out feels like confirmation to go on. 

“and thanks for putting up with me,” daniela adds.  

megan’s mouth opens to say something, before she can even think, but in the same breath, her ears pick up on mumbling. she’s honed in on listening to anything out of the ordinary, among them, the word “avanzini” is easy to pick up, even over the loud music.

“hey,” megan says quietly, feeling her pulse race as she realizes what might be happening. she shifts, feeling herself steel at the thought of an ambush. “i’m going to spin you. i need your help.”

she feels daniela tense beneath her body. even with megan’s voice being calm and even, daniela can sense that something is off, but megan stays focused. 

“is that spanish?” she asks quickly, turning her and daniela to the side to let daniela get a better earshot. she dips daniela down ever so slightly, making a casual effort to get them closer to two men eyeing them too intensely for megan’s liking, mumbling to each other.

dani comes back up from the dip, her eyes wide. she shakes her head. “no. they’re not speaking spanish. sounds european.”

“then we need to leave,” megan says firmly, her eyes fixed on the two men and how they seem to notice the girls’ change in demeanor. one man starts making his way towards them, and megan immediately springs into action. “we’re moving, now.”

the bodyguard grabs a tight grip on daniela’s wrist, quickly pulling her into the cramped hallway of the bathrooms in search of a back exit before the first man can get to them. she feels bad, nearly dragging dani behind her, but this is why she’s here, to keep the heiress safe at all costs, and she’s never been one to half-ass a single thing she does. 

they make it out the back exit, and megan can hear dani’s breaths quickening by the second. she’s reaching for the keys in her pocket, but within seconds, megan is spinning around at the slightest noise behind them, spotting one of the men cornering them. he must have come out from the front exit and raced to the alleyway while the other man followed them through the club. the bodyguard instinctively reaches to push daniela backwards behind her, before racing forwards to engage the man as she sees him reach for his belt.

megan’s pulse quickens, but she knows it isn’t fear. she feels the switch click, the way her body knows exactly what to do. her brain shuts off, and her body moves without thinking, swift and purposeful, lethally effective. this part, unfortunately, is what she’s very good at.

“avanzini—” the man starts, but megan is quick to disarm him, smashing his wrist into her knee and swiping the gun out of his hand in one fluid motion. 

and before daniela can even react, megan tightens the silencer and unloads two shots into his chest, one in his forehead, dropping the clip before throwing the gun besides his now-lifeless body. 

“oh my god,” dani breathes in horror, her eyes going wide instantly as the blood pools beneath the man’s body. 

“move, to the car. now,” megan instructs, her voice cold and even. she pushes daniela forward, out of the way of the pooling blood, and points to the car. “russians always work in two. his partner is looking for us somewhere.”

“skelly-” dani starts, her body frozen in place.

“i’ve got us,” megan nods reassuringly, pulling her own gun out from her waistband holster. she pushes daniela forward once more, gently this time, to get her momentum going. “move.”

the two run quickly into the parking lot, megan scanning around like a hawk to ensure there’s no more unexpected appearances. she curses silently. how the hell did the russian mafia get wind of where they were?

“where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” daniela questions, her face pale and eyes still wide as they get into the car.

“been training for a while,” megan answers curtly, scanning the car to make sure nothing has been tampered with. she reaches under the back seat, and as promised by sophia, she can feel the outlines of much heavier duty “machinery” if needed.

“you’re literally my age,” dani balks in disbelief.

“little younger,” megan corrects quickly, getting the engine kicked on and rumbling.

“how the fuck do you know how to do all that?” daniela’s voice is shaky now, staring at megan in complete disbelief. “what’s your deal?”

“just go to sleep.” megan reaches behind to grip the headrest as she pulls out of the parking lot. she knows daniela is probably about to crash from all the adrenaline, and the last thing she needs is the princess having a panic attack mid-ambush if there are more people tailing them. “we’re going to skip the hotel tonight. we need to be moving right now, and not in a straight line to miami. i might have us make a detour to throw them off.”

“aren’t you tired?” dani questions.

“don’t worry about me. you sleep.” megan nods, reaching into the backseat to hand daniela one of her hoodies to drape over herself. “i’ll wake you when we get to where we need to be.”

daniela stares at her, a stare that asks a million questions at once, but unlike megan, daniela doesn’t struggle to get the words out. her voice is low, still shaky, eyes uncertain as she takes in the bodyguard as if she’s seeing her for the very first time.

“who are you?”

megan can hear it in dani’s voice, and it makes her stomach churn— fear.

“skelly, who are you?” daniela doubles down, leaning closer, as if the proximity will somehow answer more questions or get her more information. “how many people have you killed? why was it so easy for you?”

megan bites down on her back molars. they’re all fair questions, but she can’t find the words to answer them in a way that will soothe the clearly panicked girl.

“go to sleep,” she says quietly, eyes fixed on the road. 

daniela goes silent, turning away from her for the rest of the car ride, and megan lets out a low breath as she focuses on getting them the hell out of there.

-

she calls sophia and debriefs her on the incident once she hears daniela’s breathing even out. sophia redirects them to a different city for the night, booking the motel under a different name and swearing to get to the bottom of how the fuck another cartel had figured out that they were moving daniela. 

by the time they make it to the motel, it’s nearly 3 in the morning, and megan has been alone in silence for the entire drive there. she’s gotten good at it, functioning on little to no sleep, keeping sharp even when exhaustion would threaten any other person. she parks, and checks in quickly, keeping an eye on the car the entire time. 

megan gets their things out of the car and bites her tongue as she sees daniela’s peaceful expression in her sleep, curled in a ball in the passenger’s seat. she can’t bear to wake the sleeping girl, knowing the stress her body is probably still under after what she had to witness. so megan makes a choice. 

gingerly as she can manage, she scoops daniela out of the car and makes their way up to the room. daniela sleepily wraps her arms around megan’s neck and rests her head against the bodyguard’s chest, a quiet mumble of protest as she doses in and out. megan figures out the door with one hand, kicking it open, but she’s surprised by daniela’s voice in her ear as soon as they’re in the room.

“i’ve never seen it happen in front of me before. someone dying.”

“i’m sorry,” megan grimaces. daniela sounds sleepy, yes, but her voice carries something else with it. something hollow, something haunted. megan wonders when it stopped affecting her. 

she tries to set daniela down on the bed, but the brunette tightens her grip around megan’s neck, locking herself in place. megan tries again to no avail, but before she can pull dani off of her, the girl’s voice breaks their silence.

“please stay,” dani whispers, her voice small and quaking. “i’m scared, skelly.”

“okay.” megan nods slowly. she owes the girl this much, she figures, letting herself melt into the bed, keeping daniela’s curled up body firmly in her grasp. “just go to sleep.”

daniela takes in a shaky breath and keeps her face hidden in megan’s chest. megan can feel the race of daniela’s pulse against her body, counting the beats to soothe herself, feeling her body eventually relax again, her breathing going even. she tries to shift out from under her, but every time she attempts it, the girl lets out a sleepy protest, curling up even tighter on megan’s chest. 

megan relents, her head propped up against the headboard, and lets her eyes rest. she doesn’t deserve the comfort that daniela’s body brings, the way the proximity warms her bones, the way it makes her feel almost close to being human again.

and maybe it’s selfish, but megan lets herself enjoy it, locking her arms around the brunette’s frame as she drifts off to sleep. she could swear she feels dani’s body relaxing once her arms wrap around her body, but she writes it off as a sleep twitch, and promises herself she won’t let this proximity become a regular thing as she drifts off for an hour or two of rest.

-

megan’s body works on an internal clock, no matter how sleep deprived she may be, and when her eyes flutter open to see an empty bed, her stomach immediately drops in panic. she wakes up before sunrise on most days, and daniela didn’t exactly strike her as the early rising type.

but before she can panic, the brunette emerges from the bathroom, scrunching her wet curls with a towel. megan realizes she’s wearing her hoodie, the one she had offered her in the car, and feels a bizarre sense of warmth at the sight. she shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the distraction, refocusing instead on how daniela managed to get up from being literally asleep on top of her without megan noticing. 

“how long have you been awake?” megan asks hurriedly.

“a minute. you talk in your sleep,” daniela says, matter of factly.

“oh,” the bodyguard wrinkles her nose. “sorry.” 

“i’m a heavy sleeper, so it’s fine,” the brunette waves her off, before handing her a burrito, clearly not from the hotel. “i got you breakfast.”

“daniela,” megan warns, realizing the girl had likely driven herself out and about. “you can’t be leaving the room by yourself like that. how did i not hear you?” 

“it’s fine,” daniela rolls her eyes, digging in her bag for her desired outfit. “we have 5 hours til miami. let me drive, you must be exhausted.”

“i’m fine to drive,” megan insists, getting up. “you can have aux.”

“fine,” daniela huffs, going on her phone to occupy herself while megan gets ready.

they make their way back to the car and start the last stretch of their journey. the air feels heavier after last night, a reminder that they’re not just two girls on a road trip. the incident was too close of a call for megan’s comfort, a sobering reminder that daniela is a wanted woman, that plenty of people would love to use her to send a message to don avanzini and his cartel, and the only thing standing in their way was an assassin parading around as a bodyguard. megan swallows. she needs to stay focused, to make sure daniela makes it out safe and sound. no more mistakes.

“are you okay?” she asks quietly, the silence bearable but obviously thick with tension. “after last night?”

daniela takes a beat, and pivots in a different direction, her eyes sharp as they study megan’s face. “i’m not scared of you.”

“i wouldn’t blame you if you were,” the girl reassures her quickly.

daniela shakes her head, taking another beat to scan over megan’s features, before turning to face the road.

“i trust you.”

megan feels her brows arch. “you shouldn’t, really.”

she knows that as her bodyguard, there’s a certain level of trust that has to be involved, but it’d be in dani’s best interest to be distrustful of everyone. with the exception of maybe sophia, megan had operated on that basis, trusting no-one, and it’s kept her in one piece all these years despite her extremely dangerous career choice. 

daniela’s fingertips tap against the dashboard, something else clearly pressing on her mind. before megan can encourage her, dani is beating her to it, asking without hesitation.

“how many?”

she doesn’t have to specify. megan lets out a quiet breath. she knows what the girl is asking.

“too many,” megan answers simply, and it’s true. enough to have lost any reaction to seeing it happen in front of her. daniela’s crisis was enough to remind her that she’s lost her humanity long, long ago.

“are you good at it?” the brunette asks. 

her voice is low, but confident, like she’s trying to tread lightly to avoid megan shutting down, but still eager to sate her curiosity. she asks like she’s approaching a venomous creature, rattling its tail— confident, as to not make herself small enough to seem like prey, but with the healthy knowledge that the danger is right there, sharing a roof with her. 

megan’s jaw tenses. “very.”

“they picked you to guard me?”

“yes.”

“so i’m in good hands,” daniela says, and megan is surprised that that’s what she derives from the whole conversation.

“i’m sorry for scaring you,” megan tells her, gently, hoping to not leave her on edge for the rest of their contracted time together. “i hope you know i won’t let anything happen to you. you don’t have to trust me. but i’ll do a good job of protecting you.”

daniela scans over her face once more. megan wonders what she sees.

“i’m safe with you?” the brunette questions.

megan nods.

“i trust you,” dani repeats, her eyes back on the road. “i trust you, skelly.”

-

as it turns out, either daniela is delusional or extremely resilient, and megan has half a mind to assume both, because just an hour after their weighted conversation, the girl is back to waving her phone in megan’s face, showing her tik toks, random photos of her vacations to europe, and now most recently, trying to train her in speaking spanish.

megan wrinkles her nose, trying to remember how the pronunciation works.

“yo llevo las drogas?” she tries poorly, certain she’s butchering each word.

“i’ve got the drugs,” daniela translates, shrieking with laughter. the sound makes megan feel fuzzy, but she bites back a smile. “you’ll just copy anything i tell you?”

“okay, dani, you’re supposed to be teaching me, i’m trusting you. don’t teach me to sound even stupider than i already do,” megan complains, groaning.

daniela laughs again, nearly uncontrollably, and insists that they keep going with the spanish lesson. megan, for whatever reason, can’t bring herself to deny the brunette.

“matar, to kill,” daniela tells her, tapping her arm with a challenge. “tell me it in past tense, masculine.”

“uh, lo mato,” megan guesses, trying to remember what she’d hear other of don avanzini’s henchmen say amongst themselves.

“that’s ‘i’m killing him.’ past tense,” daniela corrects. “i killed him.”

“lo maté?” megan tries again.

“there you go,” dani grins, pinching megan’s cheek teasingly. “you’re keeping up, skelly.”

“don’t patronize me,” megan rolls her eyes, trying to pull away from the heiress’s touch.

“you know the words for drugs, kill, run, grab,” daniela laughs. “all the cartel essentials.”

“i don’t know grab,” megan shakes her head.

“try. you know more than you think,” dani encourages.

“te cojo?” megan guesses.

megan knows she got it wrong, but the way daniela’s face lights up with something devilish makes her worried she’s gotten it extremely wrong. and unfortunately, the way the brunette smirks and tilts her head only confirms her theory.

“so, you’re not wrong, but in lots of places, it also means to fuck,” the girl grins, and megan wonders if her voice has always been so temptingly raspy. “so you just said, you’ll fuck me.”

the bodyguard feels her whole body ignite, skin flushing painfully without her wanting. “oh.”

“careful with that one,” daniela teases, and before megan can defend herself, the two are cut off by the buzzing of megan’s phone. they look at the caller id, and megan feels her pulse stop.

don avanzini.

she tries to compose herself, not wanting any questions about why she sounds so flustered, and clears her throat before bringing the phone to her ear.

“skelly,” he says immediately, before she can even greet him. “where are you?”

“uh, about to hit orlando, sir,” she answers, in complete disbelief. her boss, the head of this cartel, is calling her directly?

“skelly, put daniela on the phone.”

megan winces. that makes much, much more sense. she looks over at daniela, whose demeanor already indicates she’s entirely pissed off at the unexpected call.

“um, it’s your dad,” megan says awkwardly, and daniela immediately takes the phone.

“papi,” daniela greets, though with the irritation in her tone, it’s more an acknowledgement than a greeting. “what the fuck do you want?”

that’s the last bit of english that occurs for the rest of the call. for the next 10 minutes, daniela goes on a tirade back and forth with her father, and she sounds even angrier in spanish. megan can guess that “ignorar” is pretty close to ignore, but the rest is lost upon her. she awkwardly focuses on the road as she hears the two go back and forth. part of her wants to laugh— don avanzini, a man who strikes terror in the hearts of everyone who’s even heard of him, stuck bickering with his stubborn, headstrong brat of a daughter, the only person who his power doesn’t work on.

daniela drops megan’s phone back into her lap at what she assumes is the end of their call, and lets out an aggravated scream.

“he wants us to stop here, for the night,” she tells megan, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“you guys okay?”

“he’s just mad that i haven’t been replying to him,” the brunette rolls her eyes.

“why haven’t you been replying to him?” megan asks curiously.

“he pissed me off,” daniels shakes her head. “the fuckhead was being weird to my mom.”

“oh,” megan says simply, caught off guard by the simplistic answer she’d be receiving. 

“the guy owns an entire drug empire and yet he still can’t keep that woman happy. i’m not going to fucking side with him. if he pisses her off, he pisses me off too,” daniela huffs, bringing her knees to her chest to hug herself.

“that’s loyal of you,” megan tells her.

“one of us has to be,” daniela mumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation.

megan bites her tongue. she had seen her boss with plenty of women that weren’t mrs. avanzini and never thought twice about it. she forgets that while her boss is a cartel lord in her eyes, and her hero, to daniela, he’s supposed to be a father figure.

“i’ve always known he was a sack of shit,” daniela goes on, clearly caught up in her frustrations. “since i was a kid, i knew he was the worst. he loves me ‘cause i’m his only one, his baby or his princess or whatever, but he hates that i call him out for being a shitty dad.”

megan lets out a quiet breath, hoping her silence allows daniela to get out all her feelings in one place. she might not know the perfect thing to say, but she’s learned that the girl appreciates a listening ear just as much.

“what were you like as a kid?” daniela asks out of nowhere, pivoting the conversation quickly.  “or were you born this grown ass killing machine with a baby face?”

megan cracks a smile, but the premise of sharing more admittedly makes her uncomfortable. “maybe i’ll tell you another time.”

daniela leans back in the seat, eyeing the bodyguard curiously. if megan knows anything about her, it’s that she’ll figure out some way to get her way, even if she has to get creative, and getting information out of megan seems to be no exception to this rule. 

“you and sophia are close,” she says knowingly, arching her brow.

“we are…” megan nods slowly.

“my dad loves sophia.”

“she’s so smart,” megan agrees, realizing she’s falling into the trap, but figuring she’ll know when to reel back if daniela digs too deeply. “she’s always had my back. her mentor, ex-military, taught me everything i know. when sophia started working for your dad, she took me with her.”

“he wants to promote her. she’s young, and she gets his vision. i heard him talk about her.” 

“she’d deserve it.”

daniela blinks curiously, leaning her elbow on the center console to rest her head in her hand, looking up at the side of megan’s face as the bodyguard focuses on the road.

“what would you do, skelly? if megan helped you move up?” she asks.

“i’d like to keep doing what i do, but for your dad directly.” megan dances around the subject. how does she possibly say ‘i want to keep killing people’ and make it sound flowery? she pauses, before adding a quiet thought. “i like focusing on my work.”

“you’re very focused,” daniela nods.

megan shrugs, not expecting the half-compliment. “i try to be.”

there’s a quick pause as daniela calculates her next move, but then the question comes, quick and earnest, curious and prodding all at once.

“do you get lonely, skelly?”

megan blinks. she’s never given it thought before, the premise— do monsters get lonely?

“sometimes,” she confesses quietly, after a beat.

daniela’s eyes stay fixed on the bodyguard, forever curious. “how do you handle it?”

“i just take one day at a time.” megan shrugs, as if the answer is enough.

“hm,” daniela replies simply.

megan doesn’t know what possesses her, but something comes over her, the same thing that possessed her to hug daniela that night as they danced, the thing that sought somehow to comfort her, to know her.

“what do you want?” she asks quietly, her hands fixed on the steering wheel. “out of all of this?”

“it doesn’t matter what i want,” daniela shakes her head, the answer coming too easily. her voice drops. “i don’t have a choice.”

“i’m sure you do.”

“i don’t,” daniela doubles down. “my dad wants me to take over. either that, or i marry off to a cartel boy so i can strengthen his trades.”

“that’s not fair,” megan furrows her brows.

daniela laughs sharply. “life’s not fair.”

“i know,” megan reassures her, and the two sit in a heavy silence for a few moments.

daniela breaks it, her voice shifting.

“nobody has ever asked me what i want. not once.”

“that’s fucked,” megan furrows her brows. she looks over, and daniela is looking at her, and the way their gazes meet feels like a collision. daniela studies her for a second, and before long, a gentle smile is on her lips, as if she’s picturing something.

“i’d love to be on a beach, by the ocean. someone who’s absolutely crazy about me there by my side, bringing me a fresh coconut with a straw and one of those little paper umbrellas,” she confesses, and the illustration helps megan paint a perfect mental picture of what the heiress dreams of.  “i’d get to go dancing every night, listen to music every second of the day. that’s all i want.”

megan thinks about it. the carefree joy in her face whenever they go dancing, the way daniela so eagerly bookmarks pictures of all these islands and beach getaways, envying people who can pick a spot and stay there. she sees it, the way daniela is eager for consistency, for something predictable, something she can rely on.

before she can think further on it, daniela’s reaching out to tap megan’s arm, and even through the fabric, the contact makes megan’s skin tingle.

“what do you want?” the brunette asks, her voice gentle and sincere.

“nothing,” megan says too quickly, her mind blanking. 

daniela shakes her head, not buying the answer. 

“do you want to do this forever? work for a narco? kill people?”

megan grimaces at how plainly daniela puts it, the way the girl refuses to dance around the topic. “people don’t exactly wake up and dream of having blood on their hands.”

daniela scans over the bodyguard once more. in a move that shocks her, she reaches over and pulls the corner of megan’s hoodie aside, exposing her neck. 

there, by her collarbone, daniela’s fingertip traces against the giant pink scar along megan’s skin. megan recoils at the touch— she doesn’t know how dani had ever known about that scar, much less seen it, and even less, been brave enough to touch it. 

the scars on megan’s body have never once been seen by another set of living eyes. anyone who had left a scar was dead. that was her rule. it was what made her so, so effective at her job. and now, daniela avanzini is not just looking, but caressing, tracing it, letting the smooth skin slip under her fingertip as if she knew they had never known the touch of another hand. megan feels like a cornered animal in front of a car, floodlights blinding her, her body freezing in response. 

“maybe you don’t dream any more ‘cause you don’t like yourself,” daniela says simply, her voice quiet, her eyes fixed on the scar.

megan says nothing, keeping her focus on the road. she feels her chest tighten with something sickening.

daniela’s hand wraps gently around the back of megan’s neck, rubbing back and forth gently, her thumb brushing against the scar every few strokes. the gesture is painfully intimate, the moment so tender it makes megan feel like she might burn under the other girl’s touch, like she doesn’t deserve the comfort that daniela’s reassuring touch brings her.

“i like you, skelly,” daniela says simply, quietly, as if it’s enough, her hand never leaving the back of megan’s neck for the rest of the drive to orlando as they sit in silence, immersing themselves in the comfort of other’s company, the hum of the radio filling the air for them. 

megan decides it then, when daniela was brave enough to seek the most gnarled parts of her without flinching: she, megan skiendiel, unlovable, no longer human, and broken at every junction, has a home. and if that home is guarding daniela avanzini, so be it. 

it’s a home like a dog chained outside has a home, snarling at everyone who passes by the fence, never to see the warmth beyond the door, but still eager to protect at all costs, even if only to be cast away by the end of it all.

but nonetheless, a home, and megan feels a strange sense of belonging, like this is where she’s meant to be. 

-

by the time they get to the area of the new motel they’re supposed to be at, megan realizes that daniela has been uncharacteristically quiet. whether it was the call with her dad that threw her off, or their conversation afterwards, the girl’s more subdued energy is almost uncomfortable for megan, who immediately regrets ever wishing the girl would stop talking. here she is, keeping her thoughts to herself, and much to megan’s surprise, it’s admittedly extremely distressing.

so, she takes it upon herself to extend a hand, gently tapping daniela’s wrist to get her attention and ensure she’s not asleep. the girl stirs, blinking at the bodyguard, but awake nonetheless.

“do you want to go dancing?” megan asks quietly, pointing at the giant neon sign in front of them that flashes with the words ‘LATIN SALSA CLUB.’

daniela looks up and realizes what megan is suggesting, her face lighting up immediately. that reaction alone makes it completely worth it to megan.

“you’re inviting me?” she asks excitedly.

“i can’t exactly take you to disney world,” megan shrugs. “plus, i know you’re going to be annoying and ask anyways.”

“i’ve trained you well,” daniela beams. “good dog.”

“quit calling me that,” megan laughs.

daniela smiles at megan for an extra moment and leaps into the backseat, starting her routine once more of undressing hurriedly and seeking out a new outfit. megan stares down at her hands, and without meaning to, finds herself smiling. 

daniela takes the bodyguard by the hand and leads her into the building, and for once, megan lets herself be led. she doesn’t let her guard down, assessing the exits and the bodies around them, but she does it all while daniela drags her, the two never once separating. 

“take a shot with me?” daniela pleads, motioning for the bartender to pour two shots of tequila out for them. “just one?”

“i can’t.” megan eyes the shot glass suspiciously, but pushes it in dani’s direction, offering it to her instead. “i have to stay focused.”

“you’re the most focused person i’ve ever met. one won’t hurt you,” daniela groans. “please, skelly?”

“can’t risk getting distracted,” megan shrugs, and she can see the way dani’s face falls at being denied. something about seeing daniela like that, seeing her disappointed, stirs something in her, something deeply troubling and even more deeply moving, like a call to action. she figures out what she can offer instead.

“megan,” she says awkwardly, leaning forward so that daniela is hopefully the only one who hears.

“what?” daniela wrinkles her nose, clearly caught off guard by the random statement.

the taller girl laughs at the confused look on the heiress’s face. she feels her hands tremble ever so slightly— this is the first time she’s told someone this much about herself in years.

“megan,” the bodyguard repeats, saying it slower this time. “my name is megan.” 

there’s a beat as dani processes what she’s being told, but within seconds, she breaks out into a smile so wide, it threatens to split her face in half. 

“that’s so cute. megan. you’re like a normal girl,” daniela beams giddily.

“i liked dancing too, when i was a kid,” megan goes on, her palms sweaty at just how naked she feels sharing all this about herself, but the way daniela’s eyes light up makes it so, so worth it. “and i liked making people smile.”

“how does something so innocent turn into this?” the brunette questions, tilting her head.

“bad luck,” megan laughs humorlessly, before shooing her off, feeling too exposed for her own liking. maybe she’ll muster up the courage for more later. “go dance.”

“come with,” daniela pleads, reaching her hand out.

“in a second,” megan reassures her, before pointing up at the second story windows that surround them. “i need to get a good feel for the windows. they make me nervous.”

daniela lets out a dramatic sigh, but complies nonetheless, slipping into the swarm of bodies to lose herself in the music. megan stays seated on the barstool, eyes never once leaving the curly-haired brunette. 

she doesn’t realize she’s smiling until someone clears their throat, immediately refocusing her. her face drops, and she mentally curses at the distraction. 

“hi,” a stranger greets, smiling widely. she stands expectantly in front of megan, leaning against the bar.

megan nods, not wanting to be impolite. “you can sit here if you’d like. i was just getting up.”

“stay,” the stranger insists, waving megan off before flagging down the bartender. “what are you drinking?”

“i’m not.” megan shakes her head.

“well, then what can i get you?” the girl smiles, reaching out gently to brush her hand against megan’s elbow. she realizes it then, that this stranger has approached her with a mission, and the sooner she gets away from her, the sooner she can go back to just focusing on—

“hi.” 

megan’s thoughts are quickly interrupted by the much too familiar voice. 

she turns to see daniela, who had somehow emerged directly in front of them, inserting herself in between megan and the stranger. she eyes the other girl suspiciously, brow arching. “who are you?”

and more to megan’s surprise, daniela quickly reaches to pull megan’s arm back, out of reach of the girl, severing the contact between them.

“are you-” the girl starts, but daniela has clearly heard enough, and cuts her off without a second thought. megan is bewildered by how fast the interaction is unfolding before her very eyes.

“go away,” dani says simply, flashing a quick, forced smile before reaching for megan’s hand. megan shoots daniela a sharp look, but the brunette is too locked in on staring down this stranger that she doesn’t notice megan’s warning. 

“i can talk to her if i want,” the stranger scoffs. “free country.”

“no the fuck you cannot,” dani answers immediately, before emphasizing: “go away.”

“who even are you?” the other girl asks in disbelief, before turning to seek some sort of explanation from megan. “do you even know this chick?”

dani’s gaze narrows sharply, and megan feels herself wince. oh, the princess did not like that. 

“don’t talk to her,” she snaps, turning to clamp firmly onto megan’s hand with her own, her back facing the stranger. “we’re going.” 

“you-” the girl tries again, but megan sees that daniela has no problem doubling down.

“she’s coming home with me,” the brunette all but growls, before quickly yanking megan towards the dance floor. “you can tell her.”

with that permission, megan shakes her head, going along with it. “i’m going home with her.”

daniela breaks out in a self-satisfied grin and pulls megan along. the bodyguard follows, offering a final apologetic glance to the bewildered girl who clearly is trying to process what just happened.

when they finally make it to the middle of the dance floor, daniela grabs megan’s hands and guides them both to her waist, anchoring them firmly, before bringing her own hands up to wrap around the bodyguard’s neck. megan has been close to daniela before, but never touched her quite like this before, and she feels her skin light up as she realizes her fingertips are gripping daniela’s hips much tighter than what is probably necessary. but daniela doesn’t seem to mind, holding an equally tight grip against megan’s neck, the proximity dizzying the taller girl.

“what was that?” she laughs, trying to make sense of the entire episode.

daniela shakes her head, clearly still irritated by the interaction. “can’t have you losing focus.”

“oh, now you understand,” megan rolls her eyes. “your attitude fucking sucks, avanzini.”

“you like it,” daniela teases back.

“i definitely do not,” megan laughs. “you’re delusional.” 

daniela takes a moment, before her fingers start to play in megan’s hair, stroking through the hairs at the base of her neck. she blinks a few times, biting her lip in contemplation, but before megan can ask anything further, daniela is already there, pushing boundaries unapologetically.

“maybe i got jealous,” the brunette confesses, looking up at megan with slow, calculated blinks. she looks down at the collar of megan’s hoodie, playing with the drawstring. “i like being the center of your attention.”

megan, despite knowing exactly what daniela was going to do, is still caught off guard, her head spinning and her mouth going dry. “ah.”

daniela’s gaze locks onto megan’s, dangerously sharp, dangerously intense. 

“megan,” the name rolls languidly off her tongue, sending a shiver up the bodyguard’s spine, “tell me you’re still focused.”

“i am,” the taller girl mumbles quietly.

“on me?” daniela bats her eyes, but the question seems rhetorical. they both seem to already know the answer.

“always,” megan murmurs, and it sounds like a promise leaving her lips. the rest of the world has disappeared. all she sees is a tunnel vision— nothing but hazel eyes locking in on her, nothing but sweet pear and vanilla, nothing but perfect skin and wild brown curls and a devilish white smile.

dani notices the contemplation behind her gaze, her mind going elsewhere, and regains her attention however she can manage. megan swallows thickly as daniela’s nails dig into the skin of her neck, catching the taller girl off guard with her next question.

“did you ever fuck sophia?”

“w-what?” the bodyguard chokes back a laugh, wrinkling her nose. she tries to pull away. “daniela, what kind of a question is-”

but dani won’t let her, hyperfixating, locking her hands around the back of megan’s neck, her face serious. “answer me.”

“of course not,” megan shakes her head. “she’s like my sister.”

the heiress presses on without missing a beat, like a predator cornering it’s prey, moving with frightening precision, asking with unquestionable confidence. 

“have you ever wanted to fuck anyone you’ve worked with?”

megan stays silent for a beat too long, and that seals her fate. “i-”

“i want to leave.” daniela pulls away quickly, something shifting in her eyes, motioning for megan to follow behind her. she grabs her by the wrist, and the motion feels like they’ve moved together for lifetimes. “i’m over it here.”

megan nods, dumbfounded, under some kind of spell, reaching for the keys in her pocket. 

“let’s go.”

-

daniela makes way too much of a ruckus in the backseat as they drive back to the hotel, and by the time she climbs into the front seat, megan realizes she’s changed into nothing but a swimsuit and a simple coverup. it’s not insane, they’re in florida after all, people will walk around and run errands in much, much less, but it doesn’t help the gnawing feeling inside megan’s chest that races whenever she catches a mere glimpse of daniela’s perfect, smooth skin— and that much of it, confidently on display.

she doesn’t protest when dani makes them go straight to the motel pool instead of the room. daniela doesn’t ask so much as tell, leading megan by the hand, always guiding her, the bodyguard’s careful eyes scanning all around them. the night is dead with the exception of a few radio hums playing from neighboring houses, crickets and frogs harmonizing to fill the hot summer air.

megan has her back turned for just a few moments to scope out the area, ensuring there’s nobody else around, and when she turns back, her breath catches in her throat. daniela looks gorgeous illuminated in the blue glow of the pool. the tips of her dark curls are soaking in the water, before she quickly scoops her hair up and secures it into a bun with a clip. the younger girl knows she should look away, but she can’t, and part of her has a feeling daniela likes it that way.

“are you okay?” the heiress asks quietly, noting the bodyguard’s silence.

“don’t worry about me,” megan shakes her head. she sits at the edge of the pool, eyeing the water cautiously.

dani stretches a hand out to reach for her, beckoning with the curl of her fingers. “join me.”

“i can’t,” megan says simply.

“i want you to,” daniela presses, her voice softer than it’s been before, but still insistent as it’s always been. “please.”

megan simply blinks back at her, shaking her head once more. 

“megan,” dani says once more, folding her arms over the edge of the pool to rest her chin on her wrist, batting her eyes up at the bodyguard as she continues to negotiate. “get in the pool.”

the taller girl simply smiles, humored by dani’s insistence. “i don’t have a swimsuit.”

“it’s just us.” daniela reminds her, motioning around them at the eerie stillness of the evening. “nobody will care. nothing’s gonna happen, your gun will be right there.”

megan opens her mouth to protest, but daniela’s gaze has her frozen in place. she shakes her head, but quickly realizes she’s losing this battle. the idea of disappointing this girl has somehow become an unbearable thought, and within moments, she’s standing up and unzipping her jeans, tucking her gun away in the neat pile of clothes she leaves behind. she does exactly what daniela asks, no further questions: she strips down to her underwear and sports bra and gets in the pool.

megan cleans her own wounds after fights, megan tends to herself after dangerous situations, and megan hasn't let herself get close to anyone in years. having eyes on her already makes her uncomfortable— having daniela’s eyes on this much of her feels like she’s being burned alive.

“can’t lose focus,” megan reminds her simply, her eyes locked on her gun just to give her somewhere to look.

but daniela is smiling, clearly pleased to have gotten her way, and the way she flashes her teeth makes megan’s pulse race. dani keeps a fair distance between them as megan submerges herself into the water, but with each step into the water, daniela takes one step closer to the bodyguard.

“focus on me, then.”

“i can’t focus on anything else,” megan says breathily, but she realizes it sounds like a confession. daniela’s eyes feel like they’re eating her alive, and the truth is it makes her skin crawl. 

she wonders if the princess can see any of the other scars littered along megan’s body, if she’s making up stories for them, if they’re frightening her somehow. she wonders if daniela is regretting everything she’s shared, if she’s regaining fear, if anything is changing for her.

and almost as if she can read megan’s mind, daniela’s gaze softens on her.

“you’re my favorite,” daniela tells her quietly, as if to soothe her. 

megan’s head is spinning uncomfortably. she feels herself spiralling and tries to grasp at any conversation point that can make some sense of it all.

“why did you care if i fucked sophia?” she blurts, and the question catches both of them off guard.

“what?” daniela squints at her, wading forward through the water to move even closer.

“what would you do?” megan presses once more. she feels lightheaded, aware of all her surroundings and yet fuzzy enough to still be reeling from the proximity, from the exposure, from daniela’s presence altogether.

“did you lie to me, skelly?” the heiress tilts her head, her voice low and flat.

“no,” megan quickly reassures her, but for whatever reason, the question is eating away at her, like acid against her bones. “but what would you do?”

daniela perceives it then, in an instant. she looks over megan with a sharpness, a quick glance to take her in, to assess the state of her, the turmoil she’s in. she moves forward slowly, as if she’s scared to make any movement too sudden and scare megan off, but within moments they’re face to face. daniela’s arms snake around megan’s neck too easily, too comfortably, with too much familiarity. 

“i won’t share you,” she says simply, quietly.

“you wouldn’t have to,” megan reassures her quickly.

“i want you to myself,” daniela says back, self-assuredly, not an ounce of hesitation in her voice. she’s gripping the back of megan’s neck with her hands, fingers interlaced to lock her in place. 

“you don’t want me,” megan shakes her head, trying to look away, face tensing.

“i do,” daniela insists, dipping her head to meet megan’s gaze regardless of where she tries to avert it. she makes herself inescapable, and it makes megan’s stomach flip. 

“look at me,” daniela presses once more, and megan’s head is spinning. “do you want me?” 

she stops thinking, and reaches forward to take daniela’s cheek in her own hand.

“i-” 

she barely starts before daniela is crushing their lips together, the two colliding into each other. 

megan nearly recoils— there’s nails in her neck, gripping her close, an arm wrapping around her shoulders to pull her in, there’s teeth in her lip and warm breaths against her skin. every cell in her body wants to push back and do what she does best, fight, push, get away. 

but she remembers that they’re daniela’s nails, connected to gentle fingers. it’s daniela’s arm, anchoring them together. it’s daniela’s teeth but also her soft, plump lips, her gasping breaths as megan lets herself be kissed, lets herself be touched, lets herself be wanted. as megan lets herself want, for a split second, her mind is nothing but thoughts of the princess, indulging in the kiss, letting her hand reach for daniela’s waist, letting her eyes flutter shut as she kisses back, with eagerness, with force.

her mind races, but her heart steadies in moments. daniela, this pain in her ass who somehow contains so much tenderness, so much gentleness, so much to give and nowhere to put it. megan isn’t worthy, but daniela doesn’t seem to mind, and has given her heart a home despite it all— despite all she’s seen, despite all she’s witnessed, and despite all she knows. 

megan’s grip is gentle against daniela’s skin, scared to hurt her somehow, as if her touch would poison her. but the brunette grabs at her hands, gripping them in her own, anchoring megan as if she knows the bodyguard might run away at any moment. her head tilts and she deepens the kiss, her grip on megan’s wrists tightening, the water around them glowing against their bodies.

“come on,” daniela whispers, breaking their kiss for a brief moment before pressing her lips into megan’s jaw, megan’s chin, the hollow beneath megan’s ear. the bodyguard, her eyes clamped shut, knows daniela well enough at this point to know she wants to lead her. she lets herself be led, without question.

they’re out of the pool and back in the motel room before megan can even question it, and with far too much tenderness than what she deserves, daniela is kissing her again, unquestioning, fearlessly. her skin is wet and cold from the water, and megan worries that her touch is uncomfortable, but daniela reaches for her over and over, guiding megan’s hands over her, a silent plea to explore as the door closes behind them.

daniela has megan pushed back onto the bed, hovering over her with eyes so dark, they’re unreadable in the dimly-lit room. but megan can feel her pulse thudding against her skin, she can feel daniela’s breath against her neck, she’s all too aware of the way daniela is tracing gentle lines against the scars she sees.

“do you want me?” she repeats the question from earlier, reaching down to cup megan’s face in her hand, her eyes burning into the younger girl’s, her voice low and raspy in a way that sends shudders down megan’s spine. daniela’s fingers reach down to trace experimentally against megan’s stomach. 

as much as megan wants to think she’s more than a stupid fucking mutt, with her neck exposed, her belly touched, a predator looking straight into her eyes, megan feels her instincts kick in. 

she recoils, eyes screwing shut, gently but firmly flipping daniela off of her. she feels like she’s reverting, her brain malfunctioning. she’s not something or someone to be touched tenderly, to be let inside— she is a creature of habit, with one intention, which is to protect at all costs, even to the death.

“you’re my boss,” megan whispers, grimacing, trying to refocus but the smell of daniela still makes her so dizzy, the warmth of her lips fresh on her mind. she shakes her head, trying to empty her thoughts of all of this, pulling away. “i shouldn’t have done that. i shouldn’t be doing this.”

“megan-“ daniela tries, her voice gentle, reaching out for her, but the bodyguard is already throwing on her clothes and racing to the other side of the room, desperate to put as much space in between them as possible. she slips her gun into her waistband, reminded of her purpose.

she’s not a lapdog, for daniela to fall in love with and rehabilitate. she is a killer, put here for a sole mission.

“i’m supposed to protect you,” megan says out loud, as if to remind them both.

protect you from everything, even from myself.

“you didn’t-“ daniela tries again, something pained and vulnerable in her eyes, but megan isn’t listening. 

“go to sleep.” the bodyguard avoids her gaze, slipping out the door and pulling a chair with her. “i’ll be outside.”

-

megan sleeps in quick, 10 minute intervals from her spot guarding the door. the motel is dead, not a single other person in sight besides maybe the housekeeper that shows up around 6am, but she still spends the entire night ridiculously on edge. she was supposed to protect daniela avanzini, not get attached to her, much less get herself involved with something as stupid as kissing her. 

a buzz from her pocket snaps her out of her thoughts. she recoils, as if she’s been caught thinking about daniela’s lips, as if someone was listening to her thoughts and is here to reprimand her for what she’s done.

megan swallows thickly and lets out a sigh of relief at the caller as she picks up. “soph.”

“how far are you from miami?” the other girl wastes no time with greetings.

“we should get there by noon, if we leave now.”

there’s a quick pause, and megan’s stomach sinks. sophia is trying to break bad news.

“can you hold off until tonight?”

“are you serious?” megan groans. her hope was to drive in silence while daniela slept, and hope that miami keeps daniela busy enough to distract her from trying to talk to megan about absolutely anything for the rest of the time they’re stuck together. “soph, why can’t we get there now?”

“he doesn’t want her staying at a hotel, says he needs their yacht scoped out,” sophia explains. “i know you’re probably sick of it, but just keep her busy.”

“i’ve been keeping her busy this whole time,” megan reminds her frustratedly.

“then you’re doing your job,” sophia snaps back, never one to waste time empathizing. her voice softens slightly, clearly not wanting to leave her best friend without a few words of encouragement. “he trusts you. you’re doing great. stay focused.”

megan’s skin lights on fire at the memory of daniela saying those exact words to her the night before, and she can feel the ghost of the girl’s fingers all over her skin.

sophia hangs up, and the bodyguard clears her throat and nods, trying to reassure herself. “you’re almost done.”

-

she enters the room some time around 7am, after mentally preparing herself to avoid whatever conversation she knows is certain to come. but just as much as daniela can push a conversation, megan has the same power to pull away from a conversation, and if she’s not ready to talk about something, nothing can force her. not even the pleading, beautiful dark eyes of daniela avanzini.

and try she does. the moment the bodyguard enters the room, dani stirs from where she sits near the door, her eyes instantly softening when their gazes meet.

“megan–” she tries to start, but the bodyguard cuts her off, grabbing their bags and quickly rushing to escape the room, motioning for daniela to follow.

“we’re leaving. i need to show you something.”

they hit the road in silence, and megan takes them a few exits away to an empty field behind a trailer park. it’s secluded, it’s quiet, and theres nobody around for miles. megan feels herself wanting to laugh. just a few days ago, daniela would have taken this opportunity to try and run off, escaping megan’s protection. but here she is, staring in silence at the bodyguard, the weight of the night before heavy on both their shoulders. 

daniela opens her mouth once more, but megan won’t let her.

“you need to learn how to use this,” the bodyguard quickly cuts her off. “should it ever come to that.”

megan presses the pistol into her palm, seeing daniela’s lips part ever so slightly in distress. she steps behind the shorter girl and points to a tree. she points to each part of the gun, watching as daniela’s hand starts to tremble at the realization that she’s holding the weapon.

“safety is there, you aim two inches above where you want it to go,” megan goes on, her voice harsh and firm. “brace your wrist, and don’t let your arm go floppy. this is what it feels like.”

she quickly reaches to overlap her hand over daniela’s, pulling the trigger a single time. the older girl recoils instantly as the weapon goes off, bullet lodging deep into the tree. megan wants to wince, knowing daniela isn’t calloused to all of this yet the way she is, but she’d rather be safe than sorry.

“if you have this in your hand, you don’t hesitate. if it ever comes to it,” megan insists, watching as daniela tries to recover from the ringing in her ears. “do you understand?”

“yes,” dani swallows thickly. 

“if anything happens, ever, you run, and you don’t look back.” she stares down at the shorter girl, eyes widening to emphasize her point. “do you understand?”

daniela nods once more, biting her lip. the silence eats at megan.

“we can get to miami tonight,” she finally says, explaining the plan for the day. “they’re just asking we wait a little.” 

daniela nods, realizing this means a few more hours together on the road.

“i don’t want to go dancing tonight,” she says quietly, her voice soft.

“that’s fine.” megan tries not to react to daniela’s clear distress, knowing her softness is a weakness. daniela’s hand is still shaking when she gives the gun back to megan, but the bodyguard tries not to acknowledge it. “i’ll find us another motel nearby.”

“thank you, skelly.”

megan says nothing as they head back to the car.

-

another motel, another trek upstairs in silence as megan carries their bags and daniela avoids looking at her. dani stays on her phone in her bed for the entirety of the day, and by the time the sun is setting and megan is ordering them dinner, daniela still hasn’t said a word. this is what she wanted, right? for things to be easier— for daniela to leave her alone, to be silent, to give her zero issues and have zero complaints, to say nothing about the night before, to stop making her job so damn difficult.

so then why does megan feel so suffocated?

she’s desperate to get some clarity of mind that by the time the sun is down, the bodyguard decides that she can spare a few moments to escape on a quick walk to the vending machines, hoping the walk clears her head. daniela is curled up in her own bed, facing away from mega, her breaths even and the younger girl assumes that she’s already fallen asleep. it’ll be easy enough to move her to the car once they can make it to miami, and the drive in silence will probably be just as easy as she’d hope. megan slips out the door, feeling the hot summer air on her skin, and prays things will be easier once they get to their final destination. 

megan finds a vending machine, slides in two crumpled dollar bills, and watches as the vending machine stalls, her chips dangling temptingly.

on impulse, she punches it once, twice, before letting out a muffled yell and ramming her shoulder into the glass. it cracks under her force, and she slams it again and again until the chips have dropped. she feels a drip from her nose. 

“fuck,” she mumbles, chips in one hand, free hand coming up to tend to her now bloody nose.

she slips back into the room as quietly as she can muster and sees the heiress’s figure curled up, facing away from her. megan peels her shirt off over her head and holds it to her nose, figuring it’s already ruined and there’s no need to dirty a towel, trying to walk quietly straight to the bathroom to rinse off.

“what happened?” 

daniela’s voice cuts through the silence of the room. megan looks up and realizes that daniela is wide awake, turned over in her bed, brows knit together in concern as she sees megan’s bleeding nose. 

“i thought you were asleep,” megan says quickly. she feels herself flush at daniela’s eyes and how they scan over her exposed torso.

“did someone do this to you?” daniela sits up on her knees, reaching out for megan’s face.

“no,” megan shakes her head, trying to get away from the touch. “i used to get nosebleeds like every day as a kid.”

especially when i was stressed, she thinks to add, but doesn’t go through with it.

“can i ask you something?” daniela hums.

megan says nothing. the both know she’ll end up doing whatever she wants regardless, but megan at least appreciates the pretense of asking.

“how’d you get this?” daniela asks curiously, her fingertips tracing along megan’s neck.

“car crash,” megan answers easily. she wonders if her honesty will get her out of it any sooner, get daniela’s hands off her skin, if she’ll be able to escape her eyes.

“this one?” daniela prods, fingers touching a scar directly above her hip.

“knife fight,” megan breathes. the answers feel like confessions to crimes she’s not eager to relive.

“did you win?” daniela asks softly.

megan can’t help but let out a laugh. “i’m here, aren’t i?”

daniela swallows at the implication, before tracing a scar along megan’s thumb.

“this one?”

“i got thrown through a table.”

“how’d that end?”

megan swallows, blinking back a desire to lie, but admits the truth nonetheless.

“i killed him,” she says quickly, almost too easily.

“that’s insane. i almost don’t believe you,” daniela shakes her head, examining megan’s hand, playing with her fingers. the intimacy burns megan’s skin but she stands there, trapped at daniela’s mercy. “i really don’t believe you. you’re so gentle.”

“with you,” megan points out quickly.

“with me,” dani echoes, eyes going elsewhere, contemplation behind her stony face. “you’d kill for me?”

“i’d protect you against anything,” megan dances around the question, staring down at daniela’s fingers exploring her collarbone.

“because you’re supposed to?” daniela presses quietly, feeling the dips of megan’s skin beneath her nails. “or because you want to?”

megan forces out a sharp breath and bites back on her molars, turning her head away. “you’re distracting me.”

“i want to stay one more night here. with you.” daniela pleads, her eyes round and gentle. “when we get to miami it’ll be hectic and then it’ll be over. it’s slow on the road. i like it.”

“but your dad wants us in miami tonight,” megan reminds the brunette, brows furrowing. the confession warms her, the way daniela seeks connection, eager to hold onto it, desperate to not lose it.

“you’re special to me,” daniela whispers, fingertips tracing gently against the curves of megan’s jaw, reaching up to her cheek bone, eyes seeking. “don’t be his weapon. be mine.”

another noise fills the room, breaking their focus on each other: the buzz of megan’s phone vibrating in her pocket. she pulls it out and sees the contact, her whole body tensing in realization. it’s not sophia. 

“it’s him,” megan grimaces, answering the phone.

“skelly,” don avanzini’s voice is cold, unamused. “put daniela on the phone.”

megan’s eyes dart to daniela, who’s big hazel eyes are batting back up at her, temptingly. the brunette shakes her head, a silent plea. 

“she’s asleep,” megan lies, too easily, after a brief pause. 

“really?” he questions. 

“yes sir.” 

she gets the sense that he’s not buying it, and if getting to know daniela has taught her anything, it’s that the headstrong girl has probably given this man the run around more times than he’d care to admit. regardless, he pivots quickly, and megan lets out a breath of relief.

“you’ll still make it to miami tonight, right?” he questions.

megan’s eyes flash to the girl on the bed, their gazes locking. don avanzini has their location— he’ll know if they’re not moving, he’ll know if she lies to him, he’ll know if she tells him what he wants to hear and he’ll have her killed if she doesn’t keep her word.

but daniela. her mind dizzies with the thought of daniela’s disappointment, letting down this girl that has somehow felt like home. 

“we can be in miami by the morning,” megan says slowly. but nothing happens as she lies, no earth splitting to swallow her up, no sniper coming up to take her out, accusing her of treason. “we’ll need one more night.”

daniela, realizing the compromise, lights up, leaning forward to move even closer to megan’s stilled body. forever tempting, she takes megan’s hand and wraps it around her own neck. megan’s mouth goes dry, feeling the soft skin, feeling daniela’s pulse against her thumb.

“skelly,” her boss’s voice is terrifying, devoid of emotion, snapping her back to her reality. “you’re not lying to me, are you? you work for me, i’d like to remind you.”

daniela reaches up with a manicured hand, wiping at the still-wet blood on megan’s upper lip. she dips a finger into the stain, then, too slowly, too deliberately, brings it to her mouth, finger darting out experimentally to taste it. 

as if to tell her— i choose you, as you are. 

megan feels a horrible bark rumble in the back of her throat, and makes her decision.

“no, sir,” she says simply, and it answers everything.

“don’t make me regret choosing you, skelly,” he says simply, buying the charade. 

“of course not, sir,” megan swallows heavily.

the line goes dead, and as soon as megan drops the phone, daniela is leaping over to push her down onto the bed and straddle her. the bodyguard is too dazed to protest, her skin tingling, her pulse racing, her lips twitching.

“you keep thinking you’re too fucked up for me to get involved with you.” daniela takes her face in both hands, her voice hoarse and breathy with sheer intensity. “i see you and i think you’re perfect.”

“i don’t want to ruin you,” megan breathes, her fingers shakily brushing a curl out of daniela’s face. is she capable of it? can a monster be capable of being tender?

“you’re so obsessed with protecting me from everything, including yourself,” daniela pushes back, snatching megan’s hand to press a kiss into her thumb. “i don’t need protecting from you. you have no idea how bad i want all of you.”

“good, bad, who gives a fuck?” daniela goes on, shaking her head. “who gives a fuck when you belong to someone?”

megan reaches out first to kiss her, hungrily. she doesn’t recoil when daniela kisses her back, tongue swiping against her upper lip, tasting her own blood in their kiss, or when daniela brings megan’s grip to her waistband, guiding her hands eagerly, pushing her down by the shoulders until megan’s head hits a pillow, trapped fully under the heiress and her wandering hands.

and for the first time in nearly as long as she can remember, megan lets herself be wanted, and lets herself want, ignoring whatever guilt ate away at her to tell her she wasn’t worthy. 

-

the car ride the next morning is lighter, somehow. daniela refuses to spend a single second longer without some kind of touch against megan’s skin, some mark of ownership. 

megan doesn’t fight it. she’ll even admit she’s comforted by the way daniela insists on holding her hand the whole car drive as they finally reach miami. daniela doesn’t change much— she’s still bratty, still insistent, still eagerly seeking human connection. but she’s warmer now, more open. they drive around the city, daniela pointing out different places she’s visited or enjoyed, and each time megan offers to get out of the car, daniela shakes her head and insists that they keep driving.

megan feels her staring longer, allowing her to trace mindless circles into her arm as she drives, and instead of punctuating each conversation with irritation, daniela reaches over and kisses her. she kisses her over and over, each time the whim strikes her, and megan lets her.

she doesn’t mind. she doesn’t mind one bit.

“we could run away together,” daniela suggests, wide smile as megan carries her on her back after they’ve danced for hours at daniela’s favorite miami latin club. “stay on the road forever.”

“you’re crazy,” the bodyguard laughs simply, carrying the girl’s heels in her hand.

“you’d want that though, right?” daniela presses, her eyes eagerly seeking something in megan’s face, her arms tight around her neck as to not fall, but megan’s grip on her legs is enough to anchor her in place, like a backpack. “doesn’t it sound nice? nobody to take orders from any more.”

“you’d boss me around,” megan points out playfully. “with your brat ass.”

“maybe,” daniela flashes her teeth back in response, pressing her lips quickly into megan’s neck to mark her skin with her lipstick, as if the two hadn’t spent the whole night kissing in between dances. “you’d let me.”

“i’d let you,” megan echoes, her voice softening as she realizes she’s smiling.

“you’re still focused on me?” daniela asks.

megan nods. “i think i’m stuck focusing on you.”

“you’re unreal,” dani shakes her head, burying her face into megan’s shoulder as they keep walking through the parking lot towards their car. “you’d kill for me?”

“i could,” megan assures her quietly, eyes forever cautious as she scans their surroundings. “too easily.”

daniela’s eyes widen, warm and round. “would you, if i asked you to?” 

“you’d just have to ask,” megan tells her softly, leaning her head to the side to press their foreheads together. the act of tenderness makes her bones hurt, but the warmth it brings her feels like a furnace within her chest, defrosting her from the inside out.

“so fucking romantic,” daniela purrs. “for me?”

“i’d do it all for you,” megan blurts. 

they’re finally at the car, but instead of helping her into the passenger’s seat, megan simply sets dani down on the hood of the cadillac, admiring the girl in the dim glow of the neon lights around them. she lets herself finally admit it, finally take it in— daniela is beautiful, undeniably so, and the way she stares back at megan with those warm dark eyes makes the girl absolutely melt. 

“yeah?” dani grins, white teeth glowing in the light.

“yes,” megan says, too eager, too willing. “easily.”

“who takes care of you?” daniela hums, looking up into megan’s eyes as she reaches up to brush her bangs out of her face. “who tells you you’ve done a good job? who cleans you up after it’s all said and done?”

megan keeps her eyes fixed on the girl in front of her, lips parted as she breathes out quietly. “no-one.”

“you’re perfect,” daniela shakes her head, arms wrapping around megan’s neck. she presses their foreheads together, the intensity of their proximity making megan almost dizzy. “i’m obsessed with you.”

before she can answer, megan can sense a presence behind them. her hand instinctively reaches for the gun in her waistband, but daniela is pressing a firm hand against her shoulders, keeping her locked in their embrace, unbothered by the presence.

“take it home, you fucking freaks,” the stranger yells, kicking a can in their direction, but does nothing else. megan’s body tenses, briefly, but she looks to dani, who seems completely unphased, completely unthreatened by his heckling.

megan knows she’s overreacting, and daniela is probably in the right to just ignore him. but an idea comes to her, one that sickens her as much as it makes her eager, eager to prove herself to daniela, eager to please.

“d’you want to see what i could do?” megan asks quietly, their foreheads still pressed together. “you’d just have to ask.”

she sees the way daniela’s eyes darken and flood. the premise of power.

“seriously?” dani asks in disbelief.

“at your mercy,” megan breathes. “just ask.”

“do it.” daniela’s voice is shaky, and it reminds megan of how shaky her hand was when they practiced shooting her gun. but the shakiness only sends her adrenaline pumping further, her muscles tensing, her heart pounding. she wants to be told that she’s good. she wants daniela to know she’s a good one.

megan presses a quick kiss into daniela’s temple before she walks straight up to the man. in several swift movements, she takes two strikes to his stomach, a strike to his back, and a third one to his throat to have him gasping for air on the ground. her gun is long forgotten in favor of her preferred weapons, her fists, and the brutal sound of each punch as megan leans over the man and lands two sharp blows to his face.

she looks up, and daniela’s chest is visibly rising and falling, watching with wide eyes in front of them. megan feels her stomach flip— daniela nods in approval, her eyes dark and hooded.

“again,” dani whispers, and megan obliges in seconds, the man barely able to protest before she’s ramming bruising fists against his cheek once more, each blow leaving more blood behind than the last.

“again.” 

megan does as she’s told. it feels too natural, too automatic, too detached. if his crime was simply harassing a few girls in the street, then maybe this punishment isn’t all that fair, for megan to practically smash his face in. but she can feel the way daniela’s eyes never leave her, the way she realizes what megan has been trying to explain all along— that ultimately, she is a weapon, and she’ll bend to daniela’s every last whim.

“dani, last one,” megan warns, seeing the man teeter on sputtering breaths. 

“do you want it?” daniela asks, her eyes wide, a crazed look taking over.

“i want whatever you want,” megan says back easily, too easily. 

daniela blinks, as if in disbelief, before the word leaves her mouth. “go.”

megan, without question, winds her fist back and prepares to land a final blow.

“stop.”

her fist freezes mere inches above the man’s face. megan can feel it, as much as she had tried to avoid admitting it to herself. it feels good to do exactly what daniela wants.

“oh, i have got to be fucking in love with you,” dani gasps, throwing herself off the hood and wrapping her arms around megan’s neck to pull her away and press fevered kisses into her jaw, megan’s eyes fixed on the man laying flat on the floor. “take me home, please.”

megan says nothing, but the way daniela reaches for her bloodied hand and grips it in hers says everything. they leave the man on the ground, sparing him, and get into their car to drive to the yacht.

what more is there to possibly say? that her devotion would blindly take her to the ends of the earth for this girl? megan, robotic and single-minded, has always thrived with an assignment, a mission, something to check off one by one. 

but maybe, to devote her life to whatever this girl wanted, could be not just a mission, but a purpose. 

-

miami becomes a little too easy. dani spends her days lounging on the beach, megan watching carefully from behind her. every morning, she’ll bring her breakfast, and every afternoon, she’ll bring her a coconut. every evening, they go dancing, and every night, they fall asleep in each other’s arms. the routine becomes painfully comfortable. megan wonders if it could really be this easy. 

their fingers interlace whenever they walk into a new nightclub, megan’s eyes always scanning, daniela’s eyes fixed only on megan. 

“you talk so much about nothing at all,” daniela laughs, throwing back another shot, trying to speak up over the music.

“oh, sorry, sorry,” megan’s face burns.

“no, i fucking love it,” daniela shakes her head. “you tried being so quiet when we met.”

“i just say the stupidest shit, so it’s just better to not say anything sometimes,” megan smiles.

“you’re perfect,” daniela coos, spinning around to press her back into megan’s chest and wrap the bodyguard’s arms around herself like a jacket, “obsessed with you.”

megan has a thought to push back— you barely know me. 

but daniela knows all she needs to. she knows the ugliest parts that megan would try to keep away, and still chooses to press forward. it’s like they’ve done this backwards, shown each other the worst of themselves and slowly revealed the good. instead of putting their best foot forward, they’ve seen each other at their lowest and decided it was worth it. megan feels herself rationalizing it. isn’t it better this way? no illusion of perfection, no shattered reality when something goes wrong? wouldn’t it only, ever, really keep going up from here?

it dizzies megan sometimes, daniela’s intensity, but she has no complaints. it gives her somewhere to be, something to think about, someone to answer to, all without expectation. perfect might be an exaggeration, but megan starts to let herself picture daniela in everything, and each picture feels like something she doesn’t deserve, but will claw eagerly to hold onto.

sophia’s phone call interrupts their evening, daniela barely able to make it through the entry of the cabin before she’s leaping onto megan, but megan doesn’t mind. 

“all good, skelly?” sophia asks, checking in on the bodyguard.

“all good,” megan breathes, swallowing down gasps as daniela kisses down her chest. 

“i think you guys can make your way back to atlanta tonight, actually. it looks clear on our end,” sophia tells the bodyguard.

“yeah?” megan questions, stifling a moan as the brunette’s hot tongue explores the divots of her stomach. “back to atlanta so soon?” 

“isn’t that what you were waiting for?” sophia asks, and megan can sense the judgement in her voice.

megan arches a brow at daniela, who simply shakes her head and mouths ‘no’ back up at megan.

“i think we may do tonight here, soph,” megan says quickly, much to daniela’s pleasure as the girl resumes her kisses along megan’s hips. “we’ll leave in the morning." 

“hm,” sophia says, as if she can sense something. “boss wants to make sure you’re taking good care of her.”

“she is,” daniela grins, stealing the phone, having heard sophia’s last words and clearly over the conversation. “bye now, you’re distracting her.”

“so impatient,” megan teases.

“will you keep guarding me even if my dad wants to promote you?”  daniela asks hurriedly, the question seeming to press against her skin. “when we’re back in atlanta.”

“if you’ll have me,” megan tells her gently, reaching forward to trace her fingers through dani’s scalp, playing with her hair.

“i’ll tell my dad he’ll have to pick a different guard dog,” daniela grins, “‘cause this one is mine.”

-

megan wakes to the sound of rustling from above them. 

her first instinct is to wonder if daniela got up and is smoking on the top of the boat, enjoying the waves on her own as she has before, but she feels the older girl’s arms still wrapped firmly around her neck. daniela’s face is buried in between megan’s shoulder blades, her quiet breaths tickling the bare skin. megan hates the idea of waking her, she always has, but the moment she hears additional footsteps, she leaps out of the bed and throws on the nearest set of clothes, gently throwing daniela her own. they have exactly 90 seconds before whoever is up there figures out how to open the door and get down into the residential cabin of the yacht.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. megan let herself get distracted.

“dani,” she whispers quietly, reaching underneath the night stand to pull out a second pistol, tucking it into her waistband. “you need to get up.”

“what?” daniela’s voice is groggy, so, so endearing, and megan’s heart thuds at the sight of her. she complies, dazed and confused, with getting some clothes on, but stays gripping onto megan’s wrist.

“go. hide,” megan whispers quickly, motioning to the window leading out to the hull of the boat, but most importantly, leading to the dock where daniela can make an escape.

“no.” the princess’s eyebrows furrow across her forehead as she realizes what megan is implying. “where are you going? i’m not leaving you.”

“go hide. i’ll find you,” megan instructs her again, hearing the footsteps growing increasingly closer. “i promise.”

she looks up, and feels her stomach twist. daniela is shaking, as she has before, her eyes wide and pleading. her lip trembles as she tightens her grip around megan’s wrist, her voice quaking. “be safe. please.”

“i will,” megan reassures her, pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead before peeling her grip off of her and guiding her back towards the window. “now, go hide.”

daniela takes one more hesitant look in megan’s direction before complying, slipping out the window, into the night.

megan squares her jaw and reloads her gun, remembering her mission. not a single hair off her head. 

-

it’s easy, to start picking them off one by one. megan isn’t made to be a bodyguard, sure, she’ll admit it. but she’s made to kill, to kill easily and efficiently, and each time a new henchman appears in her line of sight, it’s merely seconds before she’s picking them off, her gunshots alerting the rest of them as they all fall into the same trap of trying to run after her, only to become her next victim. she knows it’s ugly, borderline brutal the way she can end life after life without a second thought, but this is what she does best, and now, she has an even more powerful drive to protect. 

she’s on the hull of the boat, counting off in her head after each gunshot rings out and each new henchman drops to their knees. she knows she’s running dangerously low on bullets, and don avanzini keeps magazines hidden in all sorts of random spots. she formulates a game plan. search for a reload, kill off the rest of the idiots on the boat, go find dani, get back to atlanta and keep her safe.

(but what she doesn’t calculate for is daniela avanzini, stubborn, strong willed, and loyal to a fault, who didn’t run like she was told.)

“megan!” 

the scream is visceral, unexpected enough that it catches the bodyguard off balance as she turns instantly to seek where it’s coming from.

“dani?”

once again, she loses focus, and there’s a dangerous price.

there’s a violent thud of the butt of a pistol against megan’s temple from behind that sends her reeling to the ground. she grimaces— this is the first time she’s ever been caught off guard like this, and it’s all the more reason to regret losing her focus on what she’s supposed to be doing.

her vision is hazy from the impact, but someone is instantly stepping on her wrist, pinning her down, causing her to lose her grip on her gun. she winces at the sheer pain in her arm, the throb in her head, the way she fades in and out of consciousness as her legs won’t respond to her trying to get up.

“found the brat,” she hears a voice say, and within moments, she’s looking up to see a man walking daniela up the pier. the girl is resisting, doing her best to fight him off, but she’s no match as he pins her arms behind her back and throws her to her knees besides megan.

“you were supposed to run away,” megan breathes in disbelief. so fucking stubborn, daniela is.

daniela’s chest is heaving, and the scratches on the man are a clear sign that she wasn’t caught without putting up a fight. “i wasn’t going to leave you.”

one of the henchmen shoves a phone in daniela’s face, grabbing her chin to force her to stare at him. he glares down at her menacingly. “put me on the phone with don avanzini. tell me the numbers. go.”

daniela looks up with that defiant stare that used to exasperate megan. still on her knees, the brunette turns quickly to sink her teeth into the man’s wrist, causing him to scream out in pain and drop the phone, yanking his arm back. she spits in his face, her lips curled to bare her teeth angrily. “fuck you, you fucking moron.”

“you little bitch—” the man starts, but is quickly cut off.

“you didn’t put down the bodyguard,” another man, clearly their leader, says in disappointment, stepping in between the first henchman and daniela. he smirks at megan, before landing a sharp kick to her ribs with his heel. “some guard dog you are. you took out most of my team and yet all it took was some brat to throw you off your game.”

megan’s throat burns at the impact, the wind getting knocked out of her. she looks up and sees daniela with tears in her eyes, and her chest sinks. she must look so fucking pathetic, curled up on the floor, fading in and out of consciousness, helpless. megan clamps her eyes shut in anticipation of what comes next. this is her price: she let herself get distracted. 

she hears the man click his tongue, and realizes there’s no gunshot that’s gone off yet. he takes a second to contemplate, before motioning to the other remaining henchmen.

“take them both. one of them is bound to talk.”

“don’t touch her,” megan growls, rising to her hands and knees, but the boss quickly lands another sharp kick to her stomach. she muffles a scream and collapses once more, where he presses his foot between her shoulderblades, trapping her to the floor.

“she’s worth more to us in one piece. we won’t hurt the little princess,” he says, leaning down to mumble quietly next to megan’s ear. “can’t say the same for you, however.”

megan steels herself. she’s prepared for anything they might do. but what she quickly realizes is that daniela is not. she looks up at the heiress, whose wide eyes and trembling lip are already speaking volumes.

“don’t say anything,” megan quickly hushes her, hoping she can calm her before she cracks as the men make quick work of picking them up and dragging them away to their waiting cars.

“meg-“ daniela starts, but the bodyguard quickly shakes her head.

“don’t,” she says sharply, before a hood drops over her head and everything goes dark.

-

megan isn’t thrilled to be poked, prodded, or strapped into the chair by zip ties, but she won’t let these half-rate mobsters know that. with each attempt to get her to talk, megan stays silent, biting her tongue, keeping her composure, counting the seconds as they leave new marks on her skin in an attempt to get her to do anything. she doesn’t let them get under her skin.

what does get to her is the way daniela winces each time the man does something new to megan, each new instrument he pulls out, each new promise of marking her skin permanently. 

megan wants to comfort her, to reassure her that this isn’t anything she can’t handle, but this seems to be exactly their game: they hurt megan, and leave daniela untouched, but make her watch, and with each increasingly painful attempt to get megan to break, daniela reacts more and more emotionally. megan isn’t even close to cracking, but she’s afraid that daniela, with feelings too big for her own body, might be teetering on the edge of what she can handle seeing.

“she’s going to fucking destroy you,” daniela spits in between sobs at the man in charge of the torture, trying to kick free from her own restraints as she’s forced to watch. 

“stubborn little bastard,” the man mumbles, ignoring daniela’s threat and grabbing megan by the jaw to examining her face. “you’ll crack sooner or later. nobody’s that good.”

megan realizes that behind him, daniela’s wild flailing has loosened the zip ties around her wrist, enough to free her hands. she blinks once, spotting the man’s holster hung up neatly next to daniela’s chair, and her eyes dart to it, hoping daniela can realize it.

she does, blinking slowly, realizing her hands come free and following megan’s gaze. her fingers shakily reach for the weapon, hoping the man stays turned facing megan. 

the younger girl lets out a shaky breath and closes her eyes, just in case daniela’s aim leaves something to be desired.

there’s a bang, and then the sound of a slump, and in moments, megan feels the weight of the man fall forward onto her.

daniela gets up hurriedly from the chair, mascara smeared as she cries uncontrollably, hands are still shaking, the smoke from the gun still fresh.

“go,” megan instructs hurriedly, trying to push the man’s now-lifeless body away, watching as daniela searches the room before picking up some pliers to cut megan free from her restraints. “leave before they come looking.”

“no,” dani shakes her head, making quick work of the ties in between her shaky breaths. the moment megan is completely free, dani quickly wraps her arms around her and crushes her in a vice grip of a hug, her body trembling uncontrollably. “you’re coming with me.”

“daniela, not this again,” megan growls, rubbing at her wrists, pushing the shorter girl away firmly. “this almost got you killed last time. you need to listen to me.”

megan’s chest aches at where they’ve ended up. daniela, the girl who couldn’t bear to sleep alone after seeing her first dead body, now with blood on her hands. 

“i wasn’t going to leave you behind,” daniela mumbles shakily, her eyes seeking something in megan’s face. she looks over megan’s body and grimaces, seeing the new marks left behind by their attempts to torture her.

“you should have,” megan presses back forcefully, her voice harsher, angry at their situation. angry at what she’s forced daniela into instead of sparing her from it all. “you could have gotten out so easily.”

“you’re not fucking expendable, megan,” daniela’s voice sharpens, sounding more like herself, more determined. she grabs the taller girl by the wrist, forcing her to look at her. “i just got you. i’m not losing you.”

“i’m a piece in a game, dani,” megan feels herself raising her voice, but she can’t control it at this point. her temperature rises as she tries to get it through daniela’s skull that this isn’t the way she wanted things to go. “there’s another hundred people eager to take my place for the right amount. i’m a hitman for hire that works for a cartel lord that could kill me if i even look at him wrong. i am the definition of fucking expendable.”

there’s a brief pause, and in an ideal world, megan would see the lightbulb go off in daniela’s head. she’d stop, turn away, and escape wherever the fuck they are, calling up her dad and getting rescued in an instant. megan would be a casualty, easily forgotten, and that would be the end of their story.

but of course, daniela has other plans than to let things be just quite that easy.

“not to me,” daniela breathes, her hand reaching up to stroke against megan’s cheek gently. megan recoils, but the brunette insists, keeping her hand steady, her dark eyes piercing into megan with a pleading intensity. “you protect me, but who’s going to protect you?”

megan stays silent, her eyes screwing shut. her chest aches from the inside out— something beckons for her to come home. 

“i told you, you’re mine,” dani softens her voice, bringing her other hand to cup megan’s face with unimaginable tenderness. “i’m not letting you go that easily.”

“i don’t want you to see what i’m about to do,” megan breathes, bringing up a hand to hold onto daniela’s, a silent confession, her eyes hesitantly meeting the hazel ones waiting on her. “i don’t want you to have to see this. i don’t want to scare you any more.”

megan bites back on her jaw. this is what she was made for. she’d move mountains to protect daniela. 

“i trust you, and i don’t trust anybody,” the girl smiles gently, nodding shakily. “do it.”

megan lets out a trapped breath, nodding in confirmation. “okay.”

she notices daniela’s eyes going down her body, the marks on her skin left behind, future scars. megan sees daniela immediately start to tremble at the sight of it, but before she can reassure her that she’ll be fine, something goes dark in daniela’s gaze. intense, crazed, like the night that man in the alley made the mistake of bothering them. 

“i don’t want a single one of them left,” daniela presses, eyes widening, her voice dropping into a low, dark tone. “you can do that, can’t you?”

megan feels it. her muzzle being taken off, her leash being dropped. the full trust of a girl who puts her life in her hands. the adrenaline starts to flood her, her hands quaking, her throat drying.

(she hates to admit it— it’s not fear, it’s anticipation. she’s growing eager.)

“close your eyes.”

“megan—” daniela starts, but megan simply takes her hands and holds them in her own, as softly as she can manage.

“close them, and cover your ears, please,” she insists, keeping her voice gentle. goosebumps start to line her skin as the adrenaline begins to pump through her, mentally preparing for what she’s about to do. “you can look when i come back.”

“but you’ll come back?” daniela looks up at her with pleading eyes.

megan feels something stir inside of her, and reaches forward to press a soft kiss onto daniela’s forehead, trying to soothe the wrinkles from her worried arched brows. 

“you’re the only thing i’ve ever wanted to come back to.”

daniela tries to hand her the gun, but megan presses it back into her hand.

“keep it, in case,” she nods, and the two reach a silent agreement. whatever is left between them they’ll address when megan gets back, because then that means she’ll have to come back. 

megan looks over at the tool rack— machetes, tire irons, complex tools no doubt meant to leave permanent marks. she settles on where it all started for her, her first weapon from when she was a kid: a wooden baseball bat. with one final look over her shoulder to make sure daniela is tucked away safely in the corner of the room, megan pushes past the door and hardens her jaw as she makes her way into the first hallway. wherever she is, whatever mafia or gang found them, whoever was involved, she was certain of one thing— the only people walking out of that building alive would be herself and daniela avanzini.

she realizes she’s smiling, swinging the bat in eager anticipation. her head swirls with thoughts of daniela, thoughts of protecting her, thoughts of all that she’s about to destroy to get them out of here in one piece. each step takes her further along this warpath to complete this mission. 

this is exactly what she’s built to do.

-

by the time she finds her back to the first room, fully certain she’s snuffed the life out of every body in every corner of every room in the building, she lets out a grateful breath at the realization that daniela is exactly where she left her, hiding in the corner.

“it’s me,” she announces as she comes through the door, dropping the now-splintered baseball bat on the ground to show she’s no danger. she looks around the room quickly, ensuring nobody had come in during her absence. “are you okay?” 

“are you?” daniela asks, eyes widening at the sight in front of her. “that’s so much blood.”

megan can admit it. she probably looks something out of a horror movie, completely drenched in red from head to toe. her hair is soaked through, clinging to her skin, her clothes stuck to her and dripping in certain spots from where the blood is pooled.

the two stare at each other in silence for a few moments longer, daniela taking her in, megan realizing she looks every bit the monster she’s always knew she was.

“it’s not mine,” megan offers simply, to reassure her, as if that would somehow make it better.

daniela looks down at the baseball bat, now splitting down the middle from megan’s murderous rampage, looking back at the bodyguard she had once so confidently called gentle. the bodyguard who now, from head to toe, is dripping in blood that isn’t hers.

“oh,” is all she says in response.

megan can’t find the words. she can see it in daniela’s eyes, as she takes her in, the fear.

but daniela simply reaches up to wipe the blood off of megan’s mouth with her sleeve, before her lips are crushing feverishly against megan’s own, her arms wrapping around the taller girl’s neck as if they were made to rest there, as if they were made to anchor her in this life. 

and megan lets her— no longer worried about ruining dani’s perfect skin with her own hands or horrifying her with this reality. they’re stuck in this world of dangerous horrors whether they want to be or not, but at the very least, she can be grateful that she’s stuck there with someone who makes it worth while.

“in love with you,” daniela mumbles hurriedly in between desperate kisses, gripping onto megan’s neck as if she’ll be suddenly pulled away at any point. “told you you were a good dog.”

“yours,” megan breathes in confirmation, finally allowing herself to give in to it all. the aching growl within her chest quiets as the girl’s fingers run along her skin, softly, knowingly, claiming ownership. “yours and yours only.”

megan’s bloodied fingers grip daniela by the waist, staining her clothes without concern. she holds her close, and kisses her back— feverishly, hungrily, and it feels like home. 

[fadingchaosgoatee]

LOVE ON A WIRE.　 08. i want nunu wc. 26OO+

❛ megan has never, ever wanted anything as bad in her life, until you—an underground singer and songwriter, is unemployed, and the textbook definition of a loser—stroll into her heart and her life. matter of fact, what happens when she accidentally replies to your thirst-traps that were a rebounding joke after a rough break-up, on twitter, and on the katseye account? ❜

"christ…" you mumble under your breath, a sullen sigh falling from your lips, as you manage to walk through the crowd, your eyes darting around to search for your friends. every few seconds, you'd flash a faux smile at somebody, that would soon falter shortly after. you shuffle through the crowd, intak finally getting into your line of view, as a small smile curbs your lips. waving your hands up, the korean boy rushes to your side.

"this was definitely a turnout," intak mutters, his tone betrayed by the way a grin adorns his face and his eyes creasing like crescents. "can't believe aeri and yunjin know all these people," he whispers, his eyes wandering around the crowd, as his arm wraps around your shoulder, his teeth on the rim of his solo cup of spiked punch. you shake your head, a chuckle escaping your breath.

"you're good though, right? with playing in front of the crowd, i mean," you ask, nudging the taller boy's shoulder playfully, as a crooked smile tugs at the corners of his lips. intak nods his head, squeezing your shoulder lightly, as he bites the inside of his cheek.

the crowd presses in around you two, booze being passed around, while you two were tucked in your dorm kitchen, that you were lucky enough to use without your roommates scolding and berating you. your dorm was practically filled to the brim with people you barely knew; god that was a calling for somebody to just throw-up all over your furniture, and you couldn't help but chastise yourself for following through with this party.

intak suddenly speaks up, nudging your shoulder, and whistling, "isn't that the 'fine shit' you're always tweetin' about?" he muses, and you scowl at his bluntness, rolling your eyes. you nonetheless, though, crane your neck up, your eyes meeting some girl, who you're pretty sure is part of katseye.

fuck.

your hands brush up against intak's nervously, as you nudge the boy, chiding, "fuck, you idiot! one of them saw me starin'," you gruff, as you watch intak put his arms up, feigning innocence. he shrugs with his broad shoulders, as he watches you practically melt down onto the floor, a laugh escaping from his throat at your antics.

"maybe—just maybe—you'll pull tonight," the korean boy teases, his hand ruffling your hair playfully, and you're so sure that anybody could see the heat curling at your cheeks, as you watch a few of the katseye members enter and weave through the crowd. alarm bells ring through your head, as your brows are knitted together, unconsciously staring at the ginger-headed one.

carding a hand through your hair, your hand going to play with the straggling piece of hair. a smirk graces intak's lips, as he watches your gaze intently, "you want the ginger, am i right, or am i right? you pretend to not hear the korean boy, letting the pulsating music, laughter, and vibrant energy of the party distract you. he takes a swig from his solo cup, invested in how you'll somehow fumble in real-time, right in front of him as well.

"where's the rest anyway?" you ask, your eyes flickering around the crowd to try to search for any of your guys' friends. the boy beside you shrugs, a look of confusion washing over his features, "aren't they meant to be setting up the equipment? either that or, they're shit-faced drunk."

"could be both," a giggle falls from your lips, before you look up, noticing the way a few of the katseye members briskly walk up to you. a string of curses escape your breath, as you try to avoid their gaze as much as possible, patting intak's shoulder to regain his attention.

shit, shit, shit.

he scoffs, instinctively slipping his arms over your shoulder, and rolling his eyes. a slight scowl accompanies your face at his touch, as his eyes droop down to you, mimicking your face to mock you. your facial expression slightly wavers though, as your eyes shamelessly trail down the ginger girl. you exhale, your ears burning in embarrassment, as you realize how you were practically ogling the poor girl.

"act normal, freak," intak giggles quietly, flicking your forehead lightly, and in return, a low grunt escapes your breath.

and fortunately for you, lara approaches first, the girl pulling you into a hug. a soft smile curbs your lips, as you watch the korean boy gingerly stand beside you, his eyes wandering everywhere to distract himself. your hand brushes up against the small of her back, as you wave at the rest of the members, softly humming.

"it's been so long, god! i've missed you," lara exclaims, a smile on her face. you nod, your eyes crinkling into crescents, and a relieved sigh escaping your breath. you extend your hand over to the rest of the girls, your eyes fixating on the ginger one while you do so—what was her name again? hell, you're pretty sure that she told you, and that you heard it, but it most definitely flew through your other ear—especially when your eyes were too busy scanning her features, specifically her lips.

and before you could introduce yourself too, intak taps your shoulder in a hurry, as yunjin ushers to your side, whispering something about needing you to start performing. you awkwardly mumble out a half-assed apology, "shit, sorry, i'll see you guys in like half an hour?" you curtly follow after yunjin and intak, groaning under your breath, "you guys couldn't give me at least a ten minute warning?"

you hastily fasten on your guitar strap, adjusting it slightly, as you watch yunjin's face contort into one of annoyance, "you would've been more pissed that you couldn't see that ice spice lookalike of yours if i did." she quips, a teasing grin flashing on her face, shooting you a knowing look.

"you're looking real punchable, y'know that? you and intak are like thing 1 and thing 2."

yunjin scoffs, shoving your head playfully, as her eyes flicker back to intak, making sure he was set and ready to go. "don't fuck tonight up, yn, i know you. don't accidentally wake up in some girl's room after tonight, the same way you did with julie." she lightly scolds you, shaking her head, and exhaling, intak nods his head, chiming in, "yeah, and make sure soobin doesn't go on some search party for you again." he jokes, trying to lighten the mood up.

"yeah, yeah, thanks mom 'n dad," you lament, nudging yunjin, but you knew your two friends meant well; you just wanted to tease them. you micmic a saluting pose at yunjin, making her roll her eyes.

you take a swig from the korean girl's cup, before scowling, closing your eyes shut, "jesus, never mix alcohol ever again!" you exclaim, and you grit your teeth, as you hand the cup back to the girl, who watches over you with a shit-eating grin. while you were busy trying to get rid of the repulsive taste of yunjin's mix of alcohol off your tongue, intak grabs a mic, exclaiming out, "could i get everybody's attention real quick!"

"oh, god," a string of curses escape from under your breath, as you watch intak speak up—the boy a bit tipsy, and it was evident in the way he breathlessly exclaims out words without any hesitation.

"like everybody knows, yn released her new record today! 'n to celebrate that, and also to cut back on fees, she'll be performing a little snippet of her songs, instead of the traditional band and dj shit!"

you rub your temples at the way the korean boy staggers, and you instinctively rush to his side, your hand squeezing his shoulder. fucking christ—one drink, and the man's already down. a series of giggles escapes your breath, as you watch the crowd erupt into a wave of laughter too. you shoot intak a frustrated look before a sigh drifts from your lips, and patting his shoulder, you nonetheless let the music blaring sink into the instrumental of one of your songs. your hands drift to your hello-kitty guitar, softly hovering over the strings, as a smile tugs your lips.

and while you finish up the rest of your last song, megan's eyes trail down your body, practically entranced by you. fuck. she was an idol, and you were a musician, too; the media would explode, and katseye has barely reached their one-year. this was stupid, really.

once you were done with your last song, you immediately try to gently drop your guitar onto yunjin's hands abruptly, eliciting a grunt from the korean girl, as you grab a cup of alcohol from the table, your teeth biting the rim of it. the ginger-headed girl's gaze hasn't left the back of your head; you could probably see it through the reflection, but who cares?

you laxly grasp the cup of alcohol, your cheeks flushed, as you lean against your kitchen counter, "party's better than my expectations," you gruff, patting yunjin's shoulder, and pulling her in for a side-hug, "thanks to you 'n the rest. fuck, i still don't know where half our group is!" the korean girl shakes her head, a soft smile playing on her lips, "you did good out there, y'know that? can't believe you went from some disaster on twitter, posting songs about your exes, to this," she murmurs, her voice laced with unbridled sincerity.

you giggle, "you should really try out for producing, jen. you got the talent for it," you shrug, as the music continues to blast through your dorm, making you pause in your words. before you could continue your words, a figure abruptly bumps into you, making you accidentally douse your clothes in alcohol. your eyes bulge out for a second, and you're met by a familiar face. what was your luck tonight?

"oh, shit, sorry—hey," the ginger-haired girl profusely apologizes, wetting her lips, as she takes you in; god was she fumbling, and in front of you, too. she laughs softly, the sound of it hypnotizing, as she reaches a hand out to place on your shoulder. the expression sporting her face is practically akin to one of a deer in headlights.

"it's fine, really, don't worry about it, pretty," your lips move faster than your mind, because you don't even realize the way the word slips out of your mouth, rolling off your tongue smoothly—like you meant it wholeheartedly. heat curls at your cheeks the moment you realize, "fuck, i didn't mean that—not that you aren't pretty, of course, you are; you're like, the epitome of gorgeous. but i just didn't mean it that way!"

you wished you could just disappear from the face of the earth right now. you were just so sure that the way your cheeks and ears flare with heat was god-awfully obvious, as you stumble over your words, an awkward smile on your lips.

you flinch as the girl speaks up, a series of giggles falling from her breath, as she shakes her head. your gaze fixates on her face, from the way her prominent dimples adorned her face, to her lips. god, this sucked—so badly, possibly worse than being cheated on with a man, really. "relax, you're good, don't worry about it. you're cute," megan coaxes, her voice reassuring and dulcet, as she watches you melt into the ground.

barely a few words in, and you're basically wrapped around her finger.

she shakes her head in a frenzy realizing that your clothes were still stained, "shit, i should help you clean it, right? least i could do." her hand curls around your wrist, "c'mon, show me where your bathroom is." your eyes droop down to glance at the stains on your top, mumbling under your breath, "yeah, yeah, sure."

you bite the inside of your cheek, as yunjin's words previously flicker in your mind, but you nonetheless lead the ginger-headed girl to your bathroom, weaving through the maze of the crowd. she snorts, "wow do you have quite the crowd," her gaze fixating on your friends, specifically, doing kegstands, earning a chuckle from you.

you tilt your head, referring to your friends, "they're just… like that way," and you shrug, pulling your bathroom door handle open. you beckon megan to follow suit, biting the inside of your cheek, as you click the door locked. you smooth your hair down before propping yourself up on the counter, your face sporting a gentle smile.

"you go to school here?" she asks, as she shuffles to grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol from your cabinets, smiling. you nod your head, dangling your legs above the floor, as the edm music outside the bathroom blares through. she glances back at your top, giving you a small groan, "i'm sorry, y'know, for spilling your drink on you." she murmurs quietly, her voice tinged with embarrassment, "i know it's your big night and stuff."

you flash a reassuring smile at the girl, meekly shaking your head, "it's okay, don't worry your pretty head 'bout it," you slur, barely registering your own words. heat flares at the tips of megan's ears, as she softly sighs, spinning back around towards you. she couldn't suppress her laughs, chuckling airily at your cluelessness as she tenderly hovers a towel over your top, dabbing it over the stains.

and while megan helps you clean up your stain, she sneaks little glances up at you every few seconds, her smile so tight to her teeth like she was holding back a grin.

"i listened to your record earlier; you're a natural," she coos, trying to lighten the mood. her eyes barely look up, too engrossed in trying to clean the mess she left on you, while your gaze fixates on her lips, your palms plastered against the countertop. the girl drew soft patterns with the cloth over your top, humming under your breath, and absorbing part of the stain.

"really, you think so?" you ask, your eyes glimmering, "i wrote most of them on my couch and with my guitar." you shift yourself closer to megan, trying to make it easier for her. the spinning in your head continues at her words, and the butterflies begin to swarm your stomach—the sincerity laced in her words only served to make it even worse.

her eyes dart up, biting her lower lip, "cute—i take it you used that hello-kitty guitar from earlier?" she wears an easy, half-lidded grin at the way you struggled to form the right words; she wasn't piss-drunk unlike you, who was practically watching everything blur and mold together, your mind hazy. your shoulders relax, as you nod, speaking up, "that same one, yes."

"and… there we go," megan drawls, her eyes flashing up back to yours, dropping the towel into the sink, and drying it off, "you are good to go." she whispers, giving you the cue to slide off the counter, and to face her. your hands find their way to your belt loops, as your eyes trace her figure, silence falling between the two of you.

"thanks," you stammer out, your cheeks and ears flushed, "for the help, and the compliments." you say, despite a little awkward, your tone was gentle and sincere, making her heart flutter and almost leap out of her chest. she shakes her head before dismissing it quickly.

"here wait, how about i take you for coffee this week? consider that a real apology for the stain," megan suggests, as she quickly slips out her lipstick. your eyebrows furrow, as she twists the cap off, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. the lipstick leaves a trail of marks onto some crumpled napkin on the counter, gliding across it, as she scribbles things down hurriedly. an ear-to-ear grin stretches her lips, as warmth spreads to your cheeks, her hand smacking the napkin onto your chest. exhaling, she drawls, her voice smooth and calm:

"text me when you're not busy."

PREV.　MASTERLIST.　NEXT.

A/N. :3 first written chap we are so 🆙🆙

𝓽aglist (open) , comment to be added !! :

@sed7ction @1luvkarina @ssamlovr @goofymickeyr @yeetaberry127 @urmom2314 @meganskiendielsbtc @fruityg0rl @fearnotfearmore @justtluvrr @meiyaes @sixflame438 @arihiu @vrtualstar @grahstumhurts @jaythegirlkisser @namojoon @saysirhc @gtfoiydlyj @catdonut657 @inybits @vivilvr @c-yerim @meizinisnumberone @blue-kye @linnnsworld @k31k0w @hazel-tanthamore22 @raviolisupremacy @cassiespoiler @weirdossclub @sunshinez4 @xochitlisbest @ratzeye @meiphobic @soobnotfound @kristalag @snoopyiz @esccecvp @spongebobtentacles @mirophobic @apersonwhowrites

[fadingchaosgoatee]

──“EXTRA SWEET, NO CREAM”

➤PAIR: roommate!kim chaewon x female!reader

➤SYPNOSIS: you didn't ask for a new roommate, especially not the campus sweetheart. but chaewon remembers you from a quiet coffee shop moment long ago. now you're roommates and she's determined to mean something to you too.

➤CONTAINS: fluff, reader is referred to as 'you' & 'y/n', reader dislikes chaewon at first, kms jokes, rushed ending

➤WC: 9.5k

I apologize for any typos and/or grammatical errors. happy pride month! :)

you weren't in university for the parties, the cliques or the constant social climbing. you didn't care about who was popular, who dated who, and who hosted parties every friday night with loud music and unnecessary decorations.

you didn't pay the hefty tuition just to waste your time engaging in all that nonsense, for crying out loud.

you were here to simply study, pass, and leave. quietly.

so it made sense that your contact list was nearly empty, just your family and a childhood friend. you wouldn't talk to someone unless they'd talk to you first, and even then, most conversations didn't go past a stiff ‘...thanks.’

your old roommate had been the same—she was quiet, rarely around, and respectful of your space. at times, it didn’t even feel like you had a roommate. then without any warning, she transferred to another university.

that had been fine too.

you figured it'd take some time for housing to find you a new roommate. but what you didn't expect was for them to toss someone in the next day. especially not one with three different colored suitcases, a blinding smile, and two cups of coffee. but here she was, already half way done with unpacking in your dorm.

you blinked.

she didn't disappear. 

and you didn't scream, but it was close.

standing there, a few feet away, she noticed you, and her face lit up like the morning sun breaking through a cloudy sky.

“hi, you're y/n, right?” she asked, her voice bright and melodic. she was genuinely hopeful, clearly worried she might’ve gotten your name wrong.

you knew exactly who she was, everyone did. kim chaewon, the campus sweetheart, the cheer captain, the business major everyone seemed to drool over. you've seen her around, once in the library, two times in the hallway, and too many times in the university's Instagram. she was sweet. the kind of sweet that would give you cavities if you let it sit for too long. people swarmed her like bees around honey; both guys and girls were constantly flirting with her, and you could see them practically begging for her friendship.

you didn't get the hype.

“I am.”

“nice to see you again!” she beamed, extending her hand to offer a cup of iced coffee “extra sweet, no cream, iced coffee. your usual.” 

‘again’?

‘your usual’? 

how in the world did she know that?

huh???

you tried to recount if you've spoken to her before, trying to trace back any moment where you might have actually spoken to her—but you were 99% sure that this was the first interaction between you two.

you scanned the cup in her hand, brow furrowing slightly. was it really your usual? it looked the way you liked it…

you hesitantly took it from her, “thanks…?” the words slipped from your lips, laced with a mix of hesitation and confusion.

she hummed in acknowledgement, her attention turning back to the tasks at hand, unpacking her belongings.

you stood there, staring at the cup of coffee.

‘is she some sort of stalker or something?’ you thought. how could she know your usual when you’ve never even spoken to her until now? 

you stepped around her and her suitcases which seemed to take up half of your room, before plopping down on your bed. 

your gaze flickered between the cold cup of iced coffee resting in your hands and chaewon, who was busy organizing her things with an ease that made it look so effortless.

you thought about drinking it. I mean, she wouldn't poison you, right? right?

after a moment’s hesitation, you raised the cup to your lips, the chilled surface cool against your skin. 

with a cautious sip, you braced yourself for something unusual. fortunately for you, it tasted just as you expected—no strange flavors. it was sweet, cold, and perfectly balanced. just how you liked it.

your gaze landed back on chaewon, watching her as she unpacked her things. she had a look of pure concentration on her face. as she dug through her bag, you noticed some colorful trinkets and carefully folded clothes spilling out. there were cute stickers, a couple of tiny plush toys, and a vibrant notebook covered in doodles.

it was in that moment you realized she had a lot more than clothes in there. she had too much stuff. way too much.

“is this a dorm or a lifestyle shoot?” you muttered under your breath, not really expecting her to hear you.

but of course, she did.

“let me know if you want me to take out the fairy lights,” she said with a playful wink.

you rolled your eyes.

you quietly sat on your desk, minding your business as you flipped through today’s lesson notes. your headphones snugly rested over your ears. in the coner, chaewon had long finished unpacking her things and was not scrolling through her phones, her thumb flicking up and down the screen aimlessly.

though the peaceful silence didn’t last long.

“hey, y/n?” chaewon called out, lifting her gaze from her phone. she waited for a response, maybe a small hum—but all she got was:

…

silence.

“heyyy,” she slightly raised her voice, wanting to catch your attention. but you remained focused on your notes.

just as she was about to give it another go and shout louder(not that she was annoyed or anything), it dawned on her that you were wearing headphones.

woops!

getting up from her bed, she padded over to you and gently tapped your shoulder. 

‘jeez, what does she want now?’ you huffed, pulling your headphones down around your neck but not bothering to turn around just yet.

she smiled, a bright, cheery expression that didn’t fit your mood at all “so… any dorm boundaries? like, lights off time or music stuff?” 

this was what she bothered you for? really?

despite your annoyance, you shrugged, trying to keep your tone light. “just don't bother me before coffee in the morning.”

“ohh, okay! gotchu.” she paused for a brief moment, her hands clasped in front of her. “by the way, can you turn the lights off before going to sleep? I prefer it that way.” 

“yeah, okay.”

“thanks!” she backed away, humming to herself as if she’d just accomplished a great feat.

after a while, you finally tore yourself away from your cluttered desk, the papers and books that seemed to mock your procrastination. chaewon was already cuddled up in her bed, the blanket pulled up to her chin. you tried to see if she was already asleep or just pretending, but it was hard to tell for sure.

still, you turned the lights off, just as she requested. you plopped down onto your bed, feeling the weight of tiredness pressing down on you.

“goodnight.” you heard chaewon say, her voice soft and quiet.

you didn't answer, your eyes already fluttering shut.

the next morning, you slid out of bed, groggy and still feeling the heaviness of sleep clinging to you, even after a whole night of rest. 

you stretched a little, and tried to go through your usual morning routine, but you still felt like a zombie. meanwhile your new roommate was out… somewhere.

as you brushed your teeth, your mind flickered to the coffee you'd order later. the thought of that cold, rich drink woke you up a bit. you really wished it would just magically appear in your hands every morning. like a caffeine fairy was in charge of your mornings. 

just as you were about to grab your things and head out of the dorm, the door swung open, and lo and behold it was chaewon with a smile lighting up her face and a cup of coffee in her hand. 

“...thanks?” you looked up. the door was already swinging shut behind her, no explanation, no good morning, just a cup of coffee.

you took a sip.

prefect. again.

which made it worse.

you sat on a wooden bench, your finger lazily scrolling through reddit, looking for something interesting to read before classes started. you were just about to lose yourself in a post about ‘butter vs cooking oil’ when a shadow fell over your screen.

you looked up, and of course…

chaewon.

“hi!” she greeted before dropping down to sit next to you like it was the most natural thing in the world. “thought I saw you over here.”

“uhuh.” you mumbled, trying to focus on your phone despite the energy radiating from her.

“I have a roommate radar, yknow?” she tapped her temple, playfully wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

“that's not a—” you began, but were quickly interrupted when someone called out.

“chaee! hey!” it was a girl from the cheerleading squad, one of chaewon's friends with a bright smile and a bounce in her step. “who's your friend?”

chaewon's face lit up even more, practically glowing with enthusiasm, while yours looked defeated with a hint of dread. 

“this is y/n—my new roommate. she's really cool!” chaewon declared, voice brimming with pride.

“nice to meet you!” the cheerleader chimed, shooting you a wide grin. all you could manage was a nod, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

the girl started bombarding you with compliments. something about your hair being nice, your eyes looking pretty, and a bunch of other things you didn't understand.

does she not have anything else to do or what?

just when you thought you might start to melt into the bench from embarrassment, fortunately, the girl’s boyfriend walked by and plucked her away, throwing you an apologetic glance as if he understood how perplexed you were.

you let out a sigh of relief as they disappeared into the crowd.

“hey,” chaewon started again, her voice calm but full of that same bubbly excitement.

if this was another compliment you were really gonna lose it.

she continued, “cats or dogs?” 

“...what?”

“cats or dogs?” 

how random…

“both.”

“fair enough.” she shrugged. you were about to ask why she cared so much about pet preferences when she suddenly stood up, dusting off her pants like she was ready for a whole new adventure.

“c'mon, let's get you to class.” in a swift motion, she wrapped her fingers around your wrist.

her grip was not tight, not loose, just right. just enough. enough to pull you off the bench and drag you along with her. a small giggle escaped her lips, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her enthusiasm.

gosh, she was annoying.

suddenly, she stopped in her tracks—pausing like she had forgotten something important. 

“uhh, what's your first class?” she asked with a sheepish smile.

“physics,” you replied.

you sat with your friend, minjeong, on the empty bleachers. it was lunchtime, and rarely anybody went there as most of them preferred the crowded dining hall or the grassy spots outside.

you and minjeong had been friends for so long that you couldn’t even remember a time when you hadn’t known her. you practically grew up together, childhood friends who made silly promises and swapped lunch items like it was the most important trade deal in the world. just like now.

“so, I heard you got a new roommate and a new friend. shocking, really.” minjeong said with a dramatic flair as she took a bite of your burger. 

friend? that's a bit of a reach.

“roommate, yes. friend? I don't know about that. where'd you even get that from?” 

“word gets around fast. especially if it involves chaewon. did you even know that she knows almost every single person in the campus? the girl’s so social it’s starting to scare me.”

“yeah, but I just don't get the hype. she's sweet, so what?” 

as you scanned minjeong's food, your gaze landed on something that instantly piqued your interest. “wait, is that a cookie?”

she quickly covered it with her hand, “nuh uh.” she shook her head, a playful grin stretching across her face.

“yuh uh! sharee.” you reached out, trying to snag the cookie, but minjeong was faster than you, stretching her arm high above her head, the cookie just out of reach.

“you're the worst,” you whined before letting out a small laugh.

minjeong laughed too, “I know right.” she finally relented and split the cookie in half, offering you one piece. “here, consider it a peace offering.”

you took the half she offered, holding it up like a trophy. “accepted.” you smiled, a genuine one.

later that night, you found yourself back at your desk, piles of homework stacked in front of you, accompanied by pens, crumpled papers, and textbooks. at the same time, chaewon lounged on her bed across the room, surrounded by her own collection of study materials.

she was staring down at her textbook with a furrowed brow, deep in thought. what the hell was ‘ignominious’ and who thought it’d be a good idea to put such a ridiculous word in her textbook?

she glanced up, looked at you, her textbook, then back to you before deciding you looked smart enough and had a few brain cells to spare.

after a moment of deliberation, she hopped off her bed and tiptoed over to your desk, tapping you lightly on the shoulder.

you pulled your headphones off. “what is it?” you asked.

with an air of seriousness that was oddly comical, she pointed at her textbook and said, “what does ig-no-mi-ni-ous mean?” she sounded it carefully, like she was trying to decode an ancient language.

your mind went blank.

…ignomiwhatnow?

you didn't even know that word existed! “honestly, I don’t know,” you admitted, scratching your head. “maybe just ask google or something?” 

“google and I are on a break. last time I asked a question I got diagnosed with three weird diseases and brain damage.” 

she's got a funny way with words.

“google it,” you shrugged, clearly unhelpful.

“fineee,” she groaned dramatically, turning on her heel and making her way back to her bed.

the entire night she kept bothering you.

“hey, do you understand this?”

“no”

“how do you think they did it without technology?”

“ask your grandparents.”

“do you—”

“nope.”

“how do you spell nauseous?”

“n-a-u-s-e-o-u-s.”

“wait, you lost me at the first ‘u’. can you repeat it?”

“no.”

“did you hear? one of the boys on the soccer team got kicked out and suspended because he got all violent with the coach.”

“that's… something.”

that night you stopped wearing headphones whenever she was around.

you woke up feeling completely drained, like you had just ran a marathon in your sleep. sitting up in your bed, you squinted over at chaewon’s side.

she wasn't there again.

‘what time does she even wake up?’ you wondered, half amused and half exasperated.

with a sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stretched, your muscles complaining a bit. as you glanced around your room, something caught your eye on your desk.

it was a cup of iced coffee with a small note.

you shuffled over and picked up the note, curious. the note read: 

“thanks for tolerating me last night! :D”

you let out an amused huff.

chaewon was supposed to be talking to her friends, laughing with them, but her mind was elsewhere.

“hellooo, earth to chaewon?” yunjin suddenly clapped her hands right next to chaewon’s ear, her voice exaggeratedly loud.

chaewon jumped in her seat, letting out a small yelp. “holy— what?” she exclaimed.

“you've been staring at an empty bench for like, five minutes,” kazuha pointed out, her tone teasing. “are you seeing something we aren't?”

sakura lightly smacked kazuha's arm, “don't bully her.”

chaewon sighed and looked away, “I'm just waiting for someone,” her gaze flickered back to that empty bench.

yunjin gasped dramatically and pressed her hand against her chest as if she had just heard the juiciest gossip. “woah, woah, woah… kim chaewon finally has a crush? I have to go tell eunchae!” she pulled her phone out of her pocket, ready to spill the beans.

chaewon quickly snatched the phone away from her..

“gosh, no! I'm just trying to get closer to someone. that's it!” she waved her hands, trying to brush off the assumptions.

yunjin shook her head in mock disappointment, giving chaewon a thumbs down before snatching her phone back, “boo, boring.” she teased, earning a glare from chaewon.

as her friends went back to bickering and making jokes, chaewon stayed quiet.

still waiting.

until you appeared.

with someone else. a girl chaewon instantly recognized.

minjeong—yeah, that was her name wasn’t it?

chaewon watched from a distance. there was something special about the way you interacted with the girl beside you. chaewon couldn’t help but feel a tinge of longing. she wished she could be that close to you.

she shot up from her seat, her feet carrying her over to you with a determined smile plastered on her face. “y/n! hi!” she called out.

you froze in place, caught off guard.

minjeong stood beside you, barely holding back a laugh as she leaned closer. “y/n,” she whispered. “you didn't tell me your bestie was going to drop in.”

“she's not—” you tried to protest but chaewon was already there, her arm wrapping around yours naturally as if it was meant to be. “hey, sorry if I interrupted.”

you grumbled, “you kind of did, yeah.”

minjeong gave you a slight nudge with her elbow as if to tell you to drop your attitude before she flashed a smile, “I'll give you two a moment.” and just like that, she vanished into the crowd, leaving you alone with chaewon.

“so,” you said stiffly, adjusting the bag that hung heavily on your shoulder. “what's up?” 

chaewon pulled her arm back and turned to face you fully, an easy grin on her face, “nothing much, just saw you and thought I'd say hi.”

“you didn't have to come over,” you replied, a hint of disbelief in your tone.

“yeah, sorry about that…” her smiled wavered for just a moment.

there was a beat of silence.

then a quiet: “I didn't know you had friends.”

you raised a brow. was she trying to make fun of you or something? should you be offended? “...what?”

chaewon's eyes went wide, instantly flustered. “no! wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that! I just uh—” she laughed awkwardly. “you're just… kind of hard to read sometimes.”

“I get that a lot,” you muttered.

her smile returned, bright and genuine, “it's okay. I like reading.”

chaewon came back to the dorm with a visible limp. it wasn’t dramatic, not enough for most people to notice, but it was enough to catch your eye.

you didn't say anything right away, just glanced up from your desk, eyes flickering to chaewon's knee before looking back at your laptop, pretending to be absorbed in your work.

“you should get an ice pack.” you said flatly, not bothering to sugarcoat it.

chaewon froze, glancing at you like you had just spoken a foreign language. “what?” 

“your knee. it's swelling.” you didn’t even look up, still typing away as if her injury was just a minor technical issue.

“oh. it's fine it's just—”

“no.” you rolled your eyes dramatically, “you were limping yesterday too. you walked funny this morning and you kept touching your leg like it hurts. so do something about it.”

chaewon opened her mouth, clearly at a loss for words.

with an exasperated sigh, you stood up from your desk and made your way over to the minifridge, rummaging through it. a moment later, you returned with an ice pack wrapped in a clean kitchen towel.

you tossed it on chaewon's lap. “apply that to your knee and elevate your leg.” 

“...and rest. tell your coach.” you added. 

chaewon just blinked at the ice pack on her lap, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion. 

she watched as you went back to your desk like it meant nothing.

but it did.

it meant everything.

because no one else noticed. not her friends, her coach, not even the girls on her squad.

but you did.

you noticed the little things, the way she winced when she thought no one was looking, or how her smile seemed a bit forced.

and somehow, that made all the difference.

after chaewon's knee had gotten better, the first thing she did was stop leaving coffee on your desk like a forgetful barista. instead, she upgraded to a more personal delivery system. now, every morning, she'd waltz over to you with your usual drink in hand, looking far too pleased with herself.

you still had no clue how she managed to memorize your usual order. was she secretly a coffee psychic? you didn't dare question it. you'd just take the cup with a simple, 'thanks'.

oddly enough, she never launched into her usual non-stop chatter right away, which was a real shocker. she'd walk beside you and wait until you finished drinking. only then did chaewon start bombarding you with her ramblings or whatever random thought had popped into her head.

sometimes she'd linger by your side a little too long outside the dorm. next thing you knew, she was sitting with you during meals, walking you to class like you were some sort of vip needing escort. not that you minded it that much.

days turned into weeks. it didn't happen overnight, but you slowly grew used to chaewon being around. 

it was a massive change to your daily life. 

you used to solely spend your evenings buried in textbooks, headphones on, focused on squeezing every bit of knowledge into your brain. you were practically a hermit, and you liked it that way. but suddenly, chaewon, a chatterbox, somehow squeezed herself into your life without even knocking.

at first it drove you a little nuts. you'd be deep in concentration, only to be jolted out of it by her excited voice talking about a dream she had where she was chased by a giant marshmallow.

seriously, who dreams about that?

you tried shutting her down with dry responses, hoping she'd take the hint and back off.

but she didn't.

she just kept on talking. and strangely, you found yourself waiting for it—another story about a weird dream she had, the new gossip everyone was talking about, how much she misses and loves her dog. somewhere along the way it stopped being background noise and more of a routine. 

chaewon noticed.

she hadn't expected much when she started talking to you. she'd rant and you'd give her a shrug or just silence. at least that's what she usually got from people who didn't care enough to know her beyond the surface. but you? oh, you were different.

you'd listen, like actually listen.

this time wasn't any different. you sat by your desk, surrounded by scribbled notes and textbooks, reviewing and summarizing today's lesson while your favorite playlist played with music that somehow helped you concentrate. suddenly, you heard the distinct irritable sound of a chair scratching against the floor.

you turned to where the sound came from—beside you. you were ready to throw hands, but when you realized it was just chaewon scooching her chair next to yours, you relaxed. with a sigh, you turned down the music and tried to refocus your attention on your messy paper.

chaewon sat down beside you, legs crossed, clearly buzzing with excitement “you gotta really listen to what I'm about to say right now!” she exclaimed enthusiastically.

“that's the fifth time you've said that today," you pointed out.

“I knowww, but this time it's different! hear me out!”

you knew where this was headed. and just like that, your careful writing turned into mindless doodling. it always did when chaewon was around. that's why you started keeping an extra notebook at your desk every night.

“—and then, he had the audacity to call kkura ugly and tell everyone they dated! like, no y'all didn't. she even had to publicly post a tweet regarding it because people were starting to spam her dms with ‘aww, you guys looked good together, why did you break up?’” she ranted. 

“just because she rejected him? wow.”

“I know, right?” chaewon slumped down in her seat, then instantly perked up again, leaning over to peek at your paper.

“you got another pencil?” she asked, despite the obvious pencil holder filled with pencils and ballpoint pens in front of you. “I wanna draw with you.”

reluctantly, you stretched your arm out, reaching for a pencil. you gave her a random one, one with some sort of disney princess pattern. you didn't even know where you got that from.

chaewon examined the pencil, a teasing grin spreading across her face. “wow, didn't know you were into beauty and the beast.”

trying to suppress a smile, you shot her a glare. “I'm not into that.”

“yeah? why do you have this then?” she nudged, clearly enjoying this.

“I don’t know. it just... showed up!”

“gee, I wonder if you also like—”

“oh my— just start drawing.”

her teasing grin softened into a warm smile before her focus shifted to your notebook. she flipped through the pages until she found a blank one, then carefully tore it out. 

you gave her a confused look, “thought we were gonna draw together?”

she waved her hand dismissively. “later. I wanna draw something by myself first. no peeking.” she covered the paper with her free hand as she drew, blocking your view.

you just sat there, watching her, wondering what she was drawing. you noticed how she carefully moved the pencil across the paper, how her brows furrowed in concentration, and how the hair fell perfectly around her face. suddenly, you were struck by how cute her smile looked. was she always this pretty?

you tore your gaze away from her, internally panicking.

what in the world were you thinking? 

moments later, chaewon finally slid the paper over to your side. you looked down and saw a drawing of her talking next to you while you listened, your expression captured perfectly.

a smile crept onto your face. the actual drawing might have been a bit... well, questionable, but the idea was cute. "it's good," you complimented.

chaewon noticed your smile. it was genuine—warm. something about it made her stomach flip. she stared at you.

she knew you were pretty, but had you always been this pretty?

her grip on the pencil tightened as her heart raced, feeling a strange flutter she didn't quiet understand.

just the, you suddenly clapped your hands in front of her face, startling her. “did you even hear what I said?” 

“what? I mean— yeahhh, of course I did! you said… uhm.” 

yeah, no, she definitely didn't hear a thing.

“I said we should head to bed now. it's getting pretty late.” you reminded her, glancing at the clock.

chaewon looked at the clock, 11:32 pm. “oh, right. it is,” she yawned, suddenly feeling drained. “guess time flies when you're having fun.”

she stood up, stretching her arms over her head before shuffling to her side of the room then to her bed.

once she slid under her blanket, she peeked at you from the corner of her eyes. you were busy tidying up your notes, your eyes a little tired. you must’ve had a long day. she waited patiently for you to turn the lights off.

when the room fell into darkness, she muttered a soft, "goodnight."

she didn’t expect you to say anything back, maybe just a hum of acknowledgement, or a small nod. so imagine how her heart skipped a beat when you said, "goodnight," back.

she was done for.

it was friday night, and instead of staying up late and binge watching netflix shows—chaewon was infront of the mirror, carefully putting on some light make-up. she wasn't wearing anything fancy, just a jacket over a sweater and a pair of loose jeans. casual but undeniably presentable. you'd be lying if you said it didn't catch your attention. she looked good in anything.

you were sitting by your desk again, one leg lazily propped up on the chair, shoving a spoonful of cup noodles into your mouth while your laptop droned on in the background. a show was playing, but your eyes weren't really glued to the screen.

your eyes kept flickering over to her.

seriously, she looked good. really good. the kind of good that made your heart do a little weird flip like it was trying to audition for a circus act. this wasn't the first time you noticed chaewon was pretty; you'd known that even before you two became roommates. but maybe you just weren't really letting yourself look back then.

“hey, I'm going out.” chaewon suddenly announced, breaking the silence.

you looked away, acting like you were just now realizing that she was dressed up. “date?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing a bit.

“no, just going to a friend's birthday party off campus.”

you simply nodded, like it didn't matter at all. “cool, have fun.” 

chaewon paused at the door, throwing you a bit of a motherly vibe. “don't stay up too late,” she said as if she was giving a lecture. it was ironic, considering she was usually the one pulling late nights.

“I won't.” you replied, dismissive, trying to sound like you meant it. it was the kind of tone a kid might use when they're caught sneaking cookies for the fifth time.

once chaewon left, you slumped back in your chair, staring blankly at the screen, you had stopped eating—suddenly deep in thought. then a realization hit you. you had gotten used to it, hadn’t you? her usual chatter, her loud voice, the coffee she'd give you every morning.

you glanced at the door.

how long would she be gone?

and why did it matter?

frustrated at your own train of thought, you decided to text minjeong.

y/n [7:03 PM]:

—min, can i come over im DYINGGG RN

minjeong [7:03 PM]:

—no

—my roommate’s studying for a quiz, she'd kill me if u did

—what's up? 🤧

y/n [7:04 PM]:

—u come over then

minjeong [7:04 PM]:

—??? i need a reason 🙄

—if u wanna bang im down.

y/n [7:04 PM]:

—I DONT WANT TO?!$(#9_(!**

—eugh where'd you even get that idea

—i wanna talk about something 💔

minjeong [7:05 PM]:

—hang*

—SORRY

—is it serious

y/n [7:05 PM]:

—i js want someone to talk to bro?? 

minjeong [7:06 PM]: 

—isn't chaewon there? go hug ur gf or something 

—im not walking allat

y/n [7:08]:

—bro sybau she's not my gf 

—plus, she went out

minjeong [7:08 PM]:

—¯\_(ツ)_/¯

—omw

minjeong sat on your bed beside you, her expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. “let me get this straight. you made me come over because you just wanted to yap about your crush on your roommate?” she spoke carefully, making sure she got the facts straight.

you pinched the bridge of your nose, exasperated. “I do not have a crush on her.”

“uhuh, and you totally didn’t just say you couldn't stop looking at her earlier?” minjeong said, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"I did not."

“oh, yes you did.”

“not.”

“did.”

“not.”

“did.”

“not.”

“not.”

“did— oh, for the love of—” you gave minjeong a light punch on her arm, feeling a mix of irritation and laughter rising in you.

“so, do you like her?” minjeong leaned in, her voice dripping with playful curiosity.

“maybe? I don't know!” you hid you face in your hands wishing desperately for the floor to swallow you whole. “does she even like girls?”

“...I didn't think about that.” minjeong looked as devastated as you, even though she wasn't even the one questioning everything right now. “wait, let me check her insta.” 

you pried your hands off your face, scooting closer to see minjeong's screen.

minjeong searched high and low. she checked chaewon’s bio, peeked at her story highlights, and scrolled through her comments—which mostly consisted of yunjin asking for photo credits and random fans showering her with compliments. not a single clue about chaewon’s romantic interests.

you wanted to bang your head on the wall.

“girl, I give up.” minjeong tossed her phone into the empty space on the bed. “just ask her or something.”

“are you kidding? no way. I'm not doing anything about it.” you flopped back onto your bed, burying your face into a pillow like it would somehow save you.

minjeong stood up and gave you a judgemental look, “seriously? you're just gonna ignore it like that?”

“yeah.” you said, giving her a thumbs up, your voice muffled by the pillow.

minjeong, done with your nonsense, reached for her phone, ready to head out. “I should get going, it's already ten.”

you turned your head to the side, peeking at her. “we should totally have a sleepover sometime, just to... you know, binge watch that one cartoon with the sponge guy.” you muttered.

“summer break,” she replied, giving you a quick pat on the back, "good luck with chaewon, I guess. bye!" she shrugged, making her way to the door.

as the door clicked shut behind minjeong, she unexpectedly bumped into chaewon, who was doing her best to balance a box of donuts, her purse, her phone, and a tumbler that seemed like it might topple over at any second.

“oh, hi!” chaewon greeted her with a small smile, her free hand waving like it was trying to keep everything balanced.

“...heyy,” minjeong greeted back. awkwardly. she didn't expect to run into chaewon, the girl she just stalked a few minutes ago on instagram. “do you need any help?” she gestured at the items chaewon was carrying.

“no, no, I'm fine," chaewon laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that suggested she might not be fine at all.

they exchanged a small nod before minjeong started to walk past her, but suddenly stopped, a thought popping into her head. "uh, wait." 

chaewon tilted her head slightly, “yeah?”

“do you like girls?”

“...what?”

“like, romantically?” minjeong blurted out, immediately regretting her choice of words.

“...yes?” chaewon answered, taking a step back as if she was trying to physically distance herself from the awkwardness.

“okay, great, thanks, bye!” minjeong said quickly before bolting down the hallway as if she'd just asked if there were aliens among them.

chaewon watched minjeong dissapear into the distance, her brain still trying to process what just happened.

what in the world was that even about?

she shook her head in disbelief. chaewon finally entered the dorm, and there you were, sprawled out on your bed, scrolling through your phone.

“hey, I got donuts!” chaewon announced cheerfully as she took her shoes off with the help of her free hand.

you looked up from your phone, and for a moment, you swore you almost jumped off your bed to run and hug her, but you restrained yourself. instead, you put your phone aside and got off your bed before padding over to her.

“how was the birthday party?” you asked, reaching out to take the box from her hands, making it easier for her to put the rest of her things down.

she murmured a grateful ‘thanks’ looking a little flustered, “it went great! I had a really fun time. people were nice.”

“by the way,” she continued, setting her purse and tumbler down on a nearby table, “bumped into your friend a minute ago.” 

“minjeong? oh, she just wanted to hang out. hope you didn't mind her in here.” you were about to set the box down on her desk when she stopped you.

“put it on my bed instead.”

“and yeah, it's fine I don't mind her here.” she flashed you a smile as you followed her instruction, gently laying the box down. you couldn't help but smile back, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

chaewon settled on her bed and opened the box, patting the empty space beside her, “come sit.” 

you plopped down next to her, the soft mattress beneath you sinking down a little. chaewon handed you a chocolate donut, “you like chocolate, right?” 

“you remembered?” you took it from her, your fingers lightly brushing against hers ever so slightly.

you took a small bite. and holy moly you felt like you were taking a tour of donut paradise… it was airy and fluffy on the inside, it was slightly chewy but not dense or heavy, the flavors were balanced, it was perfect, to say the least. your eyes lit up like you'd just discovered treasure.

chaewon grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “of course I did.” 

“you and minjeong… you guys go way back right?” she asked you.

you looked at her, curiosity buzzing in your mind. “mhm, childhood friends. we were neighbors. anyway, what’s up with the sudden question?”

“eh, nothing, she just asked me a random question earlier so I decided to ask about her.” 

you raised a brow, but you didn’t question it. you could always poke around later.

meanwhile, chaewon was still contemplating why minjeong had asked her if she liked girls. was minjeong, of all people, into her?

the moment was interrupted as your phone buzzed. a notification. you turned your phone on,

minjeong [1m ago]

—chaewon likes girls, happy pride 🏳️‍🌈

you almost choked on the donut as you read it, your cheeks burning hotter than ever.

you sat beside minjeong in class, the professor’s voice droned on in the background like a distant lawnmower. your mind, however, was miles away, spiraling into thoughts of chaewon. not like you wanted to, everything just reminds you of her for some reason. 

“min, I’m gonna kill myself everything reminds me of chaewon!” you whispered, trying your best not to be obvious.

“just admit it, you like her.” minejong rolled her eyes, not even bothering to hide her smirk, “you were like this the last time you had a two year crush on our class president in high school.”

“never mention yeji ever again. and so, what if I do like chaewon? not like anything's gonna happen anyway,” you grumbled. frustration, bubbling up inside you. you were just about to try and focus on the lecture again when you suddenly heard a hushed: “wait, you liked me?”

you turned your head slowly, feeling the dread creep in. and boomshakalaka, there she was, hwang yeji... this time you really wanted to bang your head on the table. you immediately faced forward again, pretending like you were paying attention to whatever the professor was talking about.

“wowww, so suddenly the lecture seems so interesting now, huh?” minjeong snickered, leaning back in her seat.

absolutely.

when class finally ended, you found yourself walking alone with yeji. she suddenly tagged along before you could run away. and minjeong… minjeong had abandoned you long ago, such a true friend in times of need, 10/10, five stars, would recommend.

as soon as you both stepped outside, the sky decided it'd be a good time to mess with you today. it was pouring rain. 

“wow, lucky me.” you muttered, reaching a hand out towards the rain. you quickly pulled it back and glanced at yeji.

“you got an umbrella? ‘cause I don't.” she laughed, then smiled, looking back at you. “wanna make a run for it?”

you quickly averted your gaze, feeling your cheeks warm up. it wasn't like you liked her anymore, no, she just had this uncanny ability to make you nervous for no good reason. “no, we'll catch a cold. let's wait it out.”

“okay, mom.” yeji said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, earning an eye roll from you.

“about earlier…” she trailed off, leaning casually against a pillar. oh dear, here comes the big question. “did you actually like me?”

standing awkwardly next to her, you began fidgeting with the keychain on your bag. “yeah, I did.”

“I did too, senior year.” she admitted.

“really? I thought you had a thing for guy with the weird hair or something.” you were genuinely surprised.

"who? oh him..." she waved it off, chuckling. "and yes, really. I don't like you anymore though," she clarified with a grin.

you nodded, “neither do I.”

“then tell me this," she paused for a second. "what did you like about me? just curious, you know? gotta fill the time somehow."

“unbelievable.” you sighed out.

and just like that, the two of you fell into a casual conversation. for the next ten minutes you chatted about the silly things you admired in each other, the ups and downs of life, and the odd little things that made you both laugh. slowly but surely, you warmed up, and before you knew it, you were joking around with her like old pals. you even found the courage to spill your thoughts about chaewon, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips as you did.

chaewon stepped out of the building, umbrella in hand. she scanned the small crowd, eyes flickering from one group to another.

where were you?

she had wrapped up her cheer practice early, all for you. knowing you never brought an umbrella with you, she had set out to find you, hoping you weren't getting soaked out there.

and then she saw you.

you were just a few feet across from her, laughing at something yeji said. the sound was the same warm, easy laugh you usually gave her, and it was like a punch to the gut. chaewon slowed her steps, her heart doing a little flip.

her smile faded.

who was she?

her grip tightened around the umbrella's handle, fingers curling a little too hard. she didn't even realize she had stopped walking.

it wasn't like she hadn't seen you talk to other people before. but this felt different, too familiar, too close, like you were sharing a private joke.

it shouldn't have bothered her.

but it did.

without thinking, chaewon forced a smile and called out. “y/n!” 

your head turned, and the spark in your eyes was instant recognition. you spotted her immediately, jogging over to you with that trademark grin on her face.

she stopped once she was right beside you, trying to play it cool. “I was looking everywhere for you.” she glanced at yeji then back at you. “who's your friend?”

“I'm yeji, hwang yeji. we were just catching up with some stuff.” yeji introduced herself. just as she finished, her eyes suddenly darted to her her watch. “oh no, would you look at the time? I gotta go!” she sent you a wink, giving you a knowing look before going back into the building.

you regretted telling her about chaewon.

chaewon watched yeji leave, brows furrowed like she had been told that her dog was ugly. and that wink? it didn't sit well with chaewon.

chaewon opened the umbrella before intertwining her free hand with yours. “let's go,” she said, pulling you towards the dorms.

the two of you shared the space under the umbrella, shoulders frequently brushing against each other that felt both cozy and awkward. “your shoulder's getting wet.” you moved a little to the side, trying to give her some more space

she shook her head and pulled you closer, “it's okay.”

you hated how sweet she was, really, it was like trying to resist a cupcake when you were already full. it wasn't fair how she made your heart beat faster everytime she smiled.

"at least let me hold the umbrella," you suggested.

she shot you a look that clearly said she wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but she eventually gave in, handing it over with a sigh.

as you took the umbrella, you subtly shifted it over to her side, not bothering to care if your own shoulder got drenched.

chaewon lounged on the couch in the dorm shared by yunjin and kazuha, the smell of freshly baked pizza hanging in the air. sakura was seated beside her, pizza slice in hand, while the other two were debating over which color of nintendo joy-con was superior—kazuha was on team green, while yunjin was defending the pink one.

“so,” sakura took a big bite of her pizza, her eyes narrowing in on chaewon, “you and that girl…” 

chaewon raised a brow, “what girl?”

“the girl you wait for every morning. you know, your roommate.”

chaewon made a small ‘o’ with her mouth when she realized who sakura was talking about. “oh! y/n? what about her?”

“you’ve been spending alot of time with her lately. got something to tell us?” sakura asked, her tone suspicious.

“no? I don't think so.” chaewon was confused, she didn't get it.

sakura rolled her eyes dramatically like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “come on! are you guys, like, together? in a romantic way?

“no, we aren't...” chaewon didn't know why sakura was asking her these questions. was she too obvious? what if you had also noticed?

sakura thought about it for a second. you aren't in a relationship, but chaewon wouldn't shut up about you and bought you coffee every morning? 

then it clicked.

“you like her!” sakura exclaimed, her voice rising like she had uncovered a groundbreaking secret which caught the attention of yunjin and kazuha.

they stared at her, waiting for an answer.

chaewon tried to play it cool, trying to suppress the heat from rising up to her cheeks. “pssh— y/n? nooo, why would I?” she waved her hands dismissivey, but the blush was betraying her.

“oh please, you totally give her heart eyes every time you look at her.” yunjin chimed in, pointing and laughing a little.

chaewon grabbed a random pillow beside her, using it to cover her face. “I don't,” she mumbled, muffled by the cushion.

“you won't mind if I ask for her number then?” yunjin teased, her phone already in her hand.

then yunjin felt something hit her face.

“oomph—!”

chaewon threw the pillow at her.

“fine, I like her. but only a little bit…”  she whispered, “actually, a lot.”

the trio erupted into a fit of giggles, practically bouncing in their seats. "when's the confession? kazuha chirped.

“never.”

“oh come onnnn, let me help you!” 

“me too!" sakura added.

“me three! wait—eunchae might want in.” yunjin said, already tapping out a message on her phone.

chaewon slumped down in her seat, letting out a melodramatic sigh. “no.”

yunjin plopped down beside her, a moment of realization hitting her “wait, wait was she the y/n you asked about months ago?”

she hesitated, “uh, well…” she trailed off, sounding like someone's mom getting ready to tell one of those classic ‘back in my days…’ stories.

chaewon stepped into the newly opened café sakura had told her about. the moment she stepped inside, a soft breeze of cold air hit her, a contrast to the blazing heat that had been practically cooking her outside.

she glanced around, taking in the cozy decor, the warm yellow lighting, and the light chatter of customers. she made her way towards the counter, eyes landing on the chalkboard menu. she should've asked sakura for a recommendation, because now, she was left wondering what to pick.

she stopped once she was in front of the counter, eyes dropping down to the barista in front of her.

“hi, uh…” her eyes darted to the barista's name tag. “y/n? hi.”

you raised a brow, taken aback that she had greeted you first instead of the other way around. “yeah, hi, what can I get for you?”

chaewon blinked, her mind racing. what on earth should she order? before she could think, she blurted out the words: “just— what's your usual?” panic started to set in.

“my usual? as in what I usually order?” you asked, trying to wrap your head around her odd question.

“yes. I'm just trying out new things, you get it, right? haha…” chaewon masked her nervousness, trying to act casual and confident, but inside she felt like a flustered mess.

‘you're lowkey kinda weird.’

‘zuha, let her continue the story.’

“extra sweet, no cream, iced coffee.”

“huh?”

“...my usual,” you clarified.

“oh! right, right… yeah, I'll get that one. 16oz.” she said, feeling a bit more reassured as she nodded. it didn't sound awful, but definitely not something chaewon would order on a daily basis.

you scanned the cups beside you found the right one, then looked back at her, “kim chaewon, right?” you took the marker from your pocket and holding it at the ready, waiting for her confirmation.

chaewon’s eyes widened in surprise, “that's… right. how'd you know?” 

“same university.” you wrote her name down with practiced ease.

instantly, chaewon's face lit up like a christmas tree, a smile spreading across her face, “really? why haven't I seen you around? what do you major in?” her curiosity was piqued, and she couldn't help but lean towards you a little more, her chin resting in the palm of her hand.

“engineering,” you muttered, turning away to prepare her order. she didn't move just yet, not really wanting to leave. after all, there was no one waiting behind her and it felt oddly nice to chat.

you didn't fangirl or do anything awkward you just treated her like a regular person, and that felt like a breath of fresh air. she hoped she could be friends with you.

‘y/n’, ‘engineering’, and your usual order. she took note of that.

a moment later, you came back with her order. you slid the cup across the counter towards her, “₩3,500.”

chaewon quickly fished some money from her pocket, paying you with a grin, “I'll see you around,”.

as she stepped outside, she checked the cup for a note, your number, maybe? but all she saw was her name and her order in neat handwriting. 

“bummer,” she muttered to herself with a hint of disappointment.

‘you know you could've just went back, right?’

‘shut up, yunjin.’

chaewon laid down on her bed, phone in hand.

-THE CLICK (not clique)-

pupu [9:37 PM]:

—does anyb know a girl named y/n

yunjinie [9:37 PM]:

—IK A KINDERGARTNER NAMED Y/N

—SHE'S IN THE US THOUGHHH RAHHHHH🦅🦅

manchae [9:38 PM]:

—WHY ARE WE SHOUTING

yunjinie [9:38 PM]:

—I DON'T KNOW

pupu [9:38 PM]:

—@ kkura, @ zuha? 

kkura [9:39 PM]:

—no lol 😅

zuha [9:39 PM]:

—idk

—anyone want a cupcake tmrw?

yunjinie [9:39 PM]:

—me PLSSS

—ZUHA PSLSLLSLSLS

zuha [9:40 PM]:

—no one? okay.

pupu [9:40 PM]:

—y'all useless af bruh

chaewon let out a long sigh before burying her face in her pillow. 

“ohh, why didn't you just come back to the café the next day though?” kazuha asked.

chaewon paused, her eyes wide and blinking as if trying to process the thought. then, in a moment of fluster she hid her face in her hands. the sight was so comical that yunjin could hardly contain herself; she erupted into laughter. she laughed so hard that she felt tears prickling the corners of her eyes, clutching her stomach as if it might burst with how much she's laughing.

“...I didn't think of that.” chaewon sheepishly admitted.

weeks passed and instead of fading away, the feeling grew more every second. chaewon felt like she was being eaten alive by the urge to tell you everything and spill her heart out.

but neither of you said anything.

not when you caught each other staring. not when she brought you your favorite snack after a long day, mumbling that she “just happened to pass by the store.”

and definitely not when you found yourself grinning like a little kid at your phone when her name lit up the screen.

then came that morning. you were just walking through the dormitory hallway, making your way outside. when chaewon suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a cup of iced coffee in her hands and handed it over without saying a single word. nothing out of the ordinary. 

but instead of walking with you like usual, she took off at full speed, making you feel like a deer caught in headlights, left standing there with your mouth slightly agape and a puzzled expression.

that's when you noticed the small note taped to the side. nothing new. she sometimes left silly doodles or passive-aggressive reminders to eat, but something about today felt different.

you peeled it open.

‘I like you, a lot. maybe you don't feel the same and that’s okay, but I really wanted to tell you so here’s this note. hopefully this doesn't ruin anything between us.

–chaewon𖹭’

you stared at the note.

your chest felt tight, your ears were ringing, and the coffee in your hand suddenly felt warm even though it was iced.

chaewon didn’t stop running until she was halfway across campus, ducking behind a vending machine like she was being hunted.

what was she thinking?

chaewon could feel her heart pounding. not from the sprint, but from you. from the way her fingers brushed against yours, the way you looked at her, the fact that the note she reread ten times was now in your possession...

she buried her face in her hands, shaking her head. “I’m so stupid,” she whispered to herself. “why did I run?”

if she had stayed, she might've exploded waiting for your reaction. because part of her was terrified you'd read the note and never look at her the same again.

but another part of her, an annoyingly hopeful one, was already imagining you showing up. finding her. saying something. anything.

so she waited.

she stood in front of the vending machine, pretending to look at snack options she didn't even want.

then you found her. just fifteen minutes before classes start.

“chae!” you called out. it wasn't a generic ‘hey’, it wasn't a formal ‘chaewon’, it was ‘chae’. that made her heart flutter. just a little too much for a normal morning.

chaewon froze halfway through opening a bag of chips. she slowly turned around, the moment almost theatrical.

“did you uh…” she paused for a second to keep herself calm. “did you see the note?”

in response, you held it up like evidence, “I did.”

she opened her mouth ready to say something, but instead, closed it again, feeling hesitant. “okay…”

a beat of silence passed.

“you ran really fast,” you broke the silence.

“embarrassment fuels speed,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. “I didn't know how you were gonna react. I panicked.”

“you could've waited, you know.” you replied, voice softer this time. “I was going to say something.”

she stared at you, a mix of hope and nervousness in her eyes. “yeah?”

you nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. ‘‘I like you too.”

chaewon’s face heated up like a boiled potato, and despite her efforts to maintain her composure, her lips curled up to a smile that could light up the whole campus. “like, like like?”

you laughed lightly, the sound melting away the last bit of tension “yes, like like.” 

“cool cool cool cool cool cool…” she repeated, trying to keep her cool and not burst into pieces out of happiness right then and there.

“weirdo,” you mumbled affectionately.

just like that walked to your classes together, her hand naturally finding yours, like it had always belonged there. you didn't need many words this time; it felt easy.

chaewon would occasionally swing your joined hands as you walked, grinning at you like an idiot. even with so many eyes watching you didn't let go.

she glanced over at you, and you were already looking at her.

this time, neither of you looked away.

ᯓ★BONUS

you sat across from chaewon, the cold breeze from the café's ac sending a shiver down your spine. you wrapped your hands around the warm cup of chocolate milk, hoping to keep some heat as you tried to shake off the chill.

“so,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before continuing. “how'd you know what my usual was?”

chaewon raised her brows, surprised with the question. “you don't remember?”

you gave her a confused look. “remember what?”

“when you worked here for the summer. I asked what your usual was because I didn't know what to order.” 

you blinked, “that was you?”

“who did you think it was? oh my gosh, were you thinking about another girl?” chaewon feigned a hurt and offended expression, dropping her fork to put her hand over her chest. 

the way she exaggerated her offense made you burst into laughter. you could feel the eyes of the other customers on you, but honestly, you didn't care. the owner was used to your antics anyway.

you wiped the tears that formed from laughing so hard, “you're so dramatic.” you managed to say.

chaewon gave you a cheeky grin, eyes sparkling with mischief, “and you love that about me.” 

you did. undeniably so.

[fadingchaosgoatee]

Yunjin being a loser and simp for reader who is also an idol in a different group. Every chance she gets to talk to her she fumbles and just looks like an idiot. Chaewon and Sakura always having to save her from making a complete fool out of herself while eunchae and kazuha cackle at her.

i practice my lines but not my feelings— huh yunjin

genre: FLUFFF

synopsis: yunjin’s just trying to survive her job as bank mc. but it’s hard to stay cool when her co-host is y/n — ive’s sweetheart and the girl she’s been secretly crushing on for months

—

week 1: immediate disaster

yunjin walks into the rehearsal room like she’s ready to conquer the world. her heart is racing, but she’s determined. camera experience? check. lines memorized? check. charisma? trying really hard to check.

then she hears who the other mc is.

“y/n from ive,” her manager says casually.

yunjin’s brain short-circuits.

oh god. she’s perfect. she’s so perfect. don’t trip, don’t trip, don’t trip.

the first time y/n smiles at her — just a quick, warm, “hi yunjin!” — yunjin’s knees turn to jelly.

she tries to say “hi” back but ends up stammering “hello-I’m professional-I mean yunjin” and immediately wants to disappear into the floor.

behind her, eunchae’s voice buzzes in their group chat:

manchae

bro yunjin’s a mess

kazuha

honestly, 0/10 for grace

chaewon

we should kick her out

⸻

on air, the disaster escalates.

“hello everyone! i’m y/n from ive!” y/n beams with her usual radiant energy.

yunjin follows. “and i’m yunjin—uh, i mean—sorry—hi?”

her voice cracks like a rusty hinge.

the entire studio freezes. the camera catches her cheeks flaming brighter than the stage lights. her hands clutch the mic so tightly they’re almost white-knuckled.

why is she smiling like that? why is my heart doing this?

eunchae and kazuha are losing it backstage; sakura is behind the curtain, shaking her head and laughing, chaewon is facepalming so hard she almost knocks herself out.

⸻

week 2: sabotage begins

yunjin tries to prep harder this time, bringing flashcards and rehearsing her lines in front of the mirror.

but y/n’s playful teasing has already begun.

during the intro banter, y/n grins slyly and asks, “so yunjin, if you had to go on a picnic with any idol, who would it be?”

yunjin’s brain totally disconnects.

“uh… you?”

silence. then the audience gasps.

yunjin’s mind: abort mission! abort mission!

yunjin hurriedly adds, “i mean! because you probably pack great snacks! and you seem super organized! and definitely not because i—”

y/n just laughs, dimples flashing. “i’ll bring sandwiches next time.”

yunjin nearly faints on live television.

⸻

week 3: ive arrives

the moment everyone’s been waiting for: they’re interviewing ive themselves.

yunjin’s palms sweat as the girls step onto the stage. she bows like she’s meeting royalty, voice tight, “welcome… to your own interview.”

the ive members exchange knowing glances.

wonyoung shoots y/n the look — a mischievous, “don’t embarrass her more” look.

gaeul smirks; liz whispers jokes to rei, who looks ready to wreck havoc.

yunjin tries to focus, but her hands tremble as she grips the mic.

“congratulations on your comeback! your stage was very… dancey.”

“dancey?” yunjin repeats, voice cracking.

wonyoung chuckles, “unnie, are you nervous?”

yunjin swears, “no.”

liz deadpans, “you’re blinking a lot.”

gaeul grins, “and you’re holding the mic like it owes you money.”

rei leans in close with a grin, “y/n, are you nervous?”

y/n laughs softly, eyes sparkling, “no, why would i be?”

rei smirks, “your girlfriend’s shaking.”

silence.

yunjin’s brain shorts out. her face is hotter than ever. she lets out a noise somewhere between a choking sound and a dying laptop fan.

y/n blushes but can’t help the smile tugging at her lips.

chaewon backstage groans, “cut the feed now.”

sakura is already live-tweeting every second.

eunchae and kazuha are screaming in the group chat.

—

week 4: mutuals

now, “y/njin” is officially a fandom phenomenon.

fans obsess over every glance, every stumble, every giggle caught on camera.

during one live outro, y/n’s voice softens, “i’ll miss this. hosting with you.”

yunjin stares, heart pounding. “me too.”

“but we’ll see each other again, right?” y/n adds, voice shy. “maybe for coffee next time instead of a script?”

yunjin’s mouth falls open.

“okay! that’s all for this week!” yunjin blurts, voice an octave too high. “thank you, everyone, for watching us embarrass ourselves every friday!”

as the camera fades, y/n slips a small note into yunjin’s hand.

⸻

backstage: the note

alone in the dressing room, yunjin’s hands shake as she opens the note.

her breath catches.

i like your face too.

also: i pack really good sandwiches.

text me. ♡ – y/n

yunjin collapses to the floor, muttering, “she likes sandwiches… she likes me…”

chaewon bursts in, “you’re a disaster.”

“i’m… a happy disaster,” yunjin replies, cheeks still burning.

—

a/n: it’s now been ?? days without seeing my wife🙁 YUNJIN COME BACK

[fadingchaosgoatee]

bouquets for the girl upstairs— huh yunjin

genre: FLUFFF😳

synopsis: florist yunjin can’t stop leaving secret flower bouquets for her new neighbor y/n—because some feelings are too big for words, but just right for petals

—

the first time yunjin sees her, it’s from the window.

she’s just refilling the eucalyptus buckets when a boxy little moving van pulls up in front of the shop, blocking the morning sun—and there she is. a shirt 2 sizes too big for her, headphones in, laughing at something on her phone while balancing a comically oversized tote bag on one shoulder and a stack of books against her hip.

yunjin knocks over an entire tray of succulents.

“you good?” giselle calls from the back.

“yup,” yunjin lies, already crouching to gather the spilled pots, peeking through the leaves like a spy. “just gravity.”

later, she watches her climb the stairs above the shop. she lives upstairs, yunjin thinks, heart thudding like a drum. she’s— oh no. she’s the new tenant.

and yunjin is already a goner.

⸻

by week two, yunjin is deep into what giselle calls “flower-stalking phase.”

every day, before opening, she leaves a bouquet on the upstairs door. a different mix each time. all coded with secret meanings:

pink camellias = longing

bluebells = gratitude

lilacs = first love

but always tucked in the center: a daisy. her favorite. devoted affection.

she never signs the notes. just simple little cards:

for the girl who makes the sun late to rise.

for the one whose laugh spilled down the stairs yesterday at 4:13 p.m.

for the voice i heard in a dream once.

“you’re the creepiest romantic i’ve ever met,” giselle says fondly. “are you writing a victorian novel or actively losing your mind?”

“both,” yunjin admits, delicately adjusting a sprig of baby’s breath. “i’m being subtle.”

“you are being the opposite of subtle.”

⸻

then one day, y/n walks in.

literally just strolls into the shop like she doesn’t know yunjin is one bad smile away from cardiac arrest. the bell chimes. the sun hits her hair. yunjin forgets how air works.

“hi,” y/n says brightly. “you work here, right? you’re the one with the ribbon earrings?”

yunjin immediately drops a pot.

“i—yes—hi—flower—yes,” she says, which is not a sentence. “ribbon. ears. shop. welcome.”

y/n’s smile grows, and it is lethal.

“you make really beautiful arrangements,” she says, glancing around. “the one on my door this morning? gorgeous.”

yunjin blacks out for a second.

somehow, she survives. y/n buys a daisy. she leaves.

ten minutes later, yunjin is curled over the back counter, face buried in her arms.

⸻

✿ scene: the annoying coworker

“you died,” giselle announces, strolling in with a croissant.

“i did not die.”

“she said hi and you curtsied.”

“i panicked!”

“you are a florist. she lives upstairs. you leave her anonymous love poems made of plants and you curtsied.”

yunjin groans. “i’m cultivating a vibe.”

“you’re cultivating a restraining order.”

giselle plucks the daisy from the counter. “what’s this one mean?”

“…devoted affection.”

“jesus. you wrote a tag that said ‘for the girl who smells like sunlit bookshops.’”

“okay,” yunjin mumbles, hiding her face. “maybe it’s a little intense.”

giselle squints. “did you at least say something normal when she came in?”

“…i said ‘flower yes.’”

“unbelievable.”

then, giselle smirks. “she asked for you, you know.”

“what.”

“she walked in and said, and i quote, ‘is the florist with the ribbon earrings here? the tall one who always looks like she’s trying not to combust when i walk in.’”

yunjin makes an inhuman noise.

giselle claps her on the back. “you’re doomed. what’s today’s bouquet?”

“…i was gonna do lilacs.”

“first love. yeah. super chill.”

⸻

✿ scene: the rituals

soon it’s a thing.

y/n starts coming in every other morning. buys “whatever flower looks happiest today.”

yunjin always chooses carefully. sometimes stares at the cooler for ten full minutes like she’s choosing a name for their first child.

she doesn’t charge y/n full price. she never charges y/n full price.

y/n leans on the counter with her chin in her hand. “you have a favorite flower?”

“daisy,” yunjin says, too quickly.

“figures.” she grins. “they’re cheerful. like you.”

yunjin nearly falls into the tulips.

they start syncing coffee breaks—y/n sipping from her thermos at the windowsill above, yunjin by the shop register, both pretending not to glance up or down. but sometimes they wave. sometimes, y/n taps the glass and mouths, hi.

yunjin almost dies every time.

⸻

✿ scene: the journal

“you have a what?” giselle asks one day.

“it’s not a journal,” yunjin says defensively, tucking the little spiral notebook under her arm. “it’s an… emotion log.”

“let me see it.”

“absolutely not.”

giselle lunges. they wrestle in the back room. eventually, she yanks it open.

inside:

hand-drawn bouquet combinations with titles like for when she wears yellow again

a list of things y/n has smiled at (including: a bee, a dog, a crooked sunflower, me?? maybe??)

a section crossed out “things to say if she ever talks to me again”

giselle is howling.

“you are so down bad. i’ve never seen anything like this. you drew hearts around her name!”

“i can’t help it,” yunjin wails. “she waved at me while brushing her teeth through the upstairs window. she’s whimsical.”

⸻

✿ scene: the confession

it rains for two days straight.

on the third, the doorbell chimes—hard and sudden—and y/n rushes in, soaked through, cheeks pink from the cold. yunjin freezes halfway through pruning a peony.

“sorry,” y/n says, breathless. “i just—I forgot my umbrella and your shop was closest—”

“you can stay,” yunjin blurts, eyes wide. “as long as you want. forever. hypothetically.”

y/n laughs. yunjin wants to melt into the floor.

they sit behind the counter, both damp and quiet, rain tapping the windows in soft rhythm.

finally, y/n speaks. “so… you’re the one who’s been leaving the flowers, huh?”

yunjin’s breath catches. “…you knew?”

“you literally write like a romance novelist with a plant obsession.”

“…is that bad?”

“it’s kind of perfect,” y/n whispers. then:

“you know what lilacs mean?”

“first love,” yunjin says, voice small.

y/n smiles. devastatingly. “good.”

thunder rumbles. outside, the world is gray.

inside, yunjin kisses her.

and for once, she doesn’t panic.

—

[fadingchaosgoatee]

i miss your mom too— kim chaewon

genre: FLUFFF

synopsis: chaewon babysits y/n’s dramatic shiba inu and ends up in a teary mess with the dogs. by the time y/n comes home, all three are crying—but don’t get the wrong idea

—

chaewon thought she had it under control.

y/n’s only going to be gone for six hours, she told herself as she sat on the couch, hoodie half-zipped and her hair tied back in a little messy bun. how hard could it be to babysit two dogs?

then shiro started crying.

not barking — crying. soft, pitiful little whines that broke chaewon’s heart every five minutes. he’d shuffle to the front door, look up at it like it betrayed him, then curl up in a dramatic ball on the welcome mat. beside him, y/n’s dog — an equally dramatic dog named tofu — would also whine, but more performatively. like he wanted shiro to know he, too, was grieving the temporary loss of his owner.

“guys,” chaewon said, already exasperated but helplessly soft, “she’s just at work.”

tofu whined louder. shiro sniffled.

chaewon sighed and grabbed both of their tiny faces in her hands. “you’re acting like she left for war.”

tofu licked her cheek. shiro gave a sad, squeaky sigh and flopped over like a wet sock.

“oh my god,” chaewon muttered. she laid flat on the floor between them, arms stretched out, hoodie sleeves covering half her fingers. the dogs immediately climbed onto her — tofu settling on her stomach, shiro curling up next to her like a heat-seeking missile.

they stayed there for five peaceful minutes before shiro started crying again.

“what do you want from me?” chaewon groaned, staring up at the ceiling like it held answers.

shiro looked at the front door.

chaewon exhaled slowly, then rolled over, hugging the poor puppy tightly.

“i miss your mom too,” she whispered, face buried in his fur.

⸻

by hour three, chaos had escalated.

chaewon had attempted a walk. it lasted six minutes. tofu refused to walk in a straight line, and shiro tried to lead them to y/n’s office — which was downtown. chaewon had to carry both dogs home, one under each arm like living, squirming bread loaves.

then they tried playing fetch. tofu brought the ball back exactly once. shiro chased a squirrel into a bush and refused to come out until chaewon bribed him with three pieces of cheese and a desperate plea.

at some point she gave up and turned on the tv. she curled up on the couch in y/n’s oversized blanket — the fuzzy one she always hogged during movie nights — with both dogs tucked beside her. tofu snored. shiro drooled. chaewon dozed off for about fifteen minutes before waking up in panic, thinking she’d missed a text from y/n.

there was no text. just a selfie of y/n in her office, looking unfairly pretty in glasses and a blazer, captioned:

“do they miss me yet :( 💔”

chaewon snapped a photo of shiro draped across her chest, mid-sob.

“he’s been crying for you for three hours. i miss you too. send help.”

y/n replied with four heart emojis and “hang in there baby 😭😭😭”

chaewon groaned and turned into a pillow.

⸻

by the time y/n’s keys jiggled in the lock, all three of them were emotionally wrecked.

shiro bolted from the couch like his tiny life depended on it, tail wagging like a maniac. tofu yapped and bounced in circles, nearly wiping out on the hardwood floor. and chaewon —hair a mess, dark circles under her eyes — stood slowly, arms stretched like a soldier returning from battle.

the second y/n opened the door, chaewon and both dogs launched at her.

“OH MY GOD,” y/n gasped, catching tofu mid-air and nearly collapsing under shiro and chaewon’s combined weight.

“you’re never allowed to leave again,” chaewon whispered dramatically, arms around y/n’s waist, face smushed into her shoulder. “our children were inconsolable. i was inconsolable.”

y/n giggled, burying her face in chaewon’s hair. “baby, i was gone for six hours.”

“six hours in dog time is like… forever.”

“okay, shakespeare.”

chaewon grunted and refused to let go. tofu whined and shiro nuzzled between their legs.

“i told him,” chaewon mumbled against y/n’s neck, “that i missed you too.”

y/n melted instantly. “oh my god.”

“i did. he was sobbing. sobbing, babe.”

“well… you’re both so dramatic,” y/n whispered, pressing a kiss to chaewon’s forehead. “but i missed you too.”

they stood there for a minute — tangled together in the doorway, wrapped in fur and love and the smell of peanut butter treats — until shiro let out one last cry and forced his way into y/n’s arms.

“okay, okay,” she laughed, cradling him like a baby. “i missed you too, shiro.”

chaewon huffed.

“what about me?”

y/n kissed her again. “you first, always.”

chaewon smiled — tired, happy, a little overwhelmed, but glowing in that way she only did when y/n looked at her like that.

“good,” she whispered. “don’t ever leave me alone with them again.”

—

[fadingchaosgoatee]

Lesson Learned

GP Yunjin x F! Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: rough, giving head, creampie,spanking, and more I guess 🧍‍♀️

A/n: I wrote this like 5 times 😩

Requested

Comeback was just weeks away, and you, along with the other girls, were immersed in practicing the dance routine for the title track. "1 and 2 and da da da, perfect! Okay guys, take 10," the instructor announced, prompting all of the girls to collapse onto the floor in exhaustion, except for you. Despite the fatigue, you remained determined to perfect your moves. This dedication was nothing new; you'd always strived to refine your skills, even practicing tirelessly in the dorms. Yunjin often witnessed your frustration when struggling with the choreography, yet she never hesitated to offer her support.

"Y/n, baby, the instructor said take 10," Yunjin gently reminded you, pulling you into her arms as she urged you to rest. However, your determination persisted. "No, I need to get this right," you insisted, continuing to practice the move you were intent on mastering.

"We've been dancing for two hours straight; take a rest," Yunjin pleaded softly, her hand resting on your shoulder as she guided you towards relaxation. Reluctantly, you sighed and gave in, following her lead. As Yunjin sat down, you crawled towards her, and she enveloped you in her arms, providing comfort while Sakura offered you some water.

Yunjin smiled down at you, grateful that you were finally resting. Your stubbornness sometimes made it challenging for her to intervene, but she was relieved that you listened to her, she cared deeply for you and only wanted what was best.

You were each other's biggest supporters, cheering on every success and comforting each other through the lows. To Yunjin, you were the embodiment of perfection, flawlessly fitting into every corner of her heart. However, there was one big issue: you had a major attitude problem.

"Y/n, look, I'm sorry—" Yunjin attempted to follow you into your room, but her words were cut off as you slammed the door shut in frustration.

Yunjin sighed in annoyance, one hand rubbing her face while the other clenched into a fist against the door. Thankfully, the other girls were occupied watching a movie at Sakura and Kazuha's dorm.

During your second break, Yunjin had been spending too much time with Kazuha, which ignited feelings of jealousy within you. With the comeback nearing, you longed for Yunjin's presence but felt sidelined by her bond with Kazuha. In retaliation, you began hanging out with Chaewon, seeking attention by laughing loudly to catch Yunjin's eye. Seeing you cozying up to Chaewon stirred jealousy within Yunjin, prompting her to approach you, only to be met with cold indifference.

Ignoring Yunjin intentionally, you chatted animatedly with Chaewon, prompting Yunjin to reach out for your hand, only to have it pushed away. Frustrated by your attitude, Yunjin resolved to address the issue later at the dorms, and she assumed her position for practice.

Yunjin found your door locked. She lightly banged on it, calling out to you in frustration. "Y/n, baby, of course, I want to spend time with you. I'm just as obsessed with you as you are with me."

"Tell that to Kazuha," your muffled voice replied from behind the door.

Yunjin groaned in exasperation. "Y/n, let's talk. Open the door."

"No."

"Y/n, you're being a brat right now. Open the door, please," Yunjin's tone grew firmer yet remained gentle.

"No, leave."

Yunjin understood your stubborn nature and realized she had spoiled you with her attention. Your current behavior, however, tested her patience beyond its limits. With a firm resolve, Yunjin fist slammed the door before retrieving a spare key and barging into your room, confronting you head-on.

"I've had it with your bratty behavior, Y/n," Yunjin stated sternly, gripping your face to ensure you met her gaze as she spoke.

You stared defiantly at Yunjin, rolling your eyes and pushing her away once more. "I said I don't want to talk," you huffed, turning your body away from her in frustration.

Your defiant movement only served to stoke the flames of Yunjin's anger. With a sudden burst of intensity, she pushed you back onto the bed. Gripping your legs firmly, she pulled you closer to her, her determination evident in every movement. In a swift and assertive motion, she positioned herself on top of you, firmly restraining your arms above your head with a powerful grip, asserting her dominance over you.

As Yunjin's eyes darkened and her breath quickened at the position, you couldn't help but squirm in her grasp. "Let me go," you whined in frustration, feeling trapped by her overpowering presence.

Yunjin's grip tightened, refusing to release you. "No. You listen to me, and you listen to me good," she growled, her voice tinged with authority. "I've had it with your attitude. I've spoiled you too much, and now I need to put you in your place."

Looking up at Yunjin, you pouted, attempting to play innocent and charm your way out of the situation. But Yunjin saw through your facade, instantly calling you out. "Oh, don't play innocent with me," she retorted sharply. "You're far from innocent."

Her words sent shivers down your spine, igniting a primal desire within you. "Who said I was?" you challenged with a smirk. "You, of all people, should know."

Yunjin released one of your arms, moving it to grip your jaw firmly while her thumb caressed your lips. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you feeling empty and achingly aroused.

Without warning, Yunjin flipped you over, positioning you over her lap. In one swift motion, she pulled down your pants and underwear, exposing your bare skin to her gaze. Her hand moved faster than your eyes could follow, delivering a sharp strike to your butt with a force that made your body jerk in response. The sting of the ring on her finger intensified the sensation, sending a jolt of pleasure mingled with pain through your body.

A moan escaped your lips, hanging thick in the air as the sensation radiated through you. "Fuck, you're a kinky little slut if you loved that," Yunjin hissed, her voice rough and coarse with desire. The sight of her chest rising and falling with each breath only fueled your longing for more.

"Maybe I am," you taunted, your voice laced with desire and defiance. "Maybe I am so fucked up, I need a good fucking to teach me a lesson."

Yunjin's patience finally snapped. Pushing you away with a forceful shove, she swiftly discarded the remaining clothing, leaving her in only her pants. Your breath hitched as her gaze locked with yours, a dark smirk playing on her lips. "Oh baby, you don't know what you've started," she husked, her voice heavy with desire, before sliding her pants down to her ankles along with her undergarments. Her throbbing cock sprang free, veins pulsating with arousal.

Her hardened shaft rested against your stomach, eliciting a desperate whine from you. "Fuck, Jen, please fuck me," you pleaded, your eyes fixated on her throbbing member, your body yearning to be filled by her.

"Do brats deserve to get fucked, though? Beg me for it," she demanded, her words sending tingles of anticipation down your spine. Your walls clenched eagerly, craving her touch.

"Fuck me, Jen," you rasped, attempting to lean up on your elbow and meeting her gaze. "Pleasee."

Yunjin clicked her tongue disapprovingly at your response. "Not good enough," she muttered, causing you to instantly sit up, your core throbbing with desire to have her inside you. She smirked at your desperate neediness. "Seems like I've got to teach you a lesson or two about not being a brat."

Drawing closer to you, you felt the slickness gathering between your folds. You were dripping wet for her, craving her dominance. With a firm grip on your hair, Yunjin forced your head to look up at her. "Open up," she commanded, and you complied without hesitation. Parting your lips, you watched as she spat a thick glob of saliva between them before sealing your mouth shut.

"Swallow," she ordered, and you obeyed, ensuring your eyes never left hers. "That's my good girl," she groaned in approval, her thumb gently rubbing circles on your cheek as she studied you intently before releasing you.

You watched as her erection bobbed, pre-cum glistening at the tip. Meeting her gaze, you saw the hunger in her eyes as she guided the head of her shaft to your lips. "Open up."

The salty taste of her pre-cum was a relief, but it wasn't enough. You eagerly encircled the head of her cock with your lips, sucking greedily as she moaned in pleasure. Bobbing your head to take her deeper, you reveled in feeling her fingers gripping your hair.

Yunjin's grip tightened as she forced you down on her cock, making it bump against the back of your throat, causing you to choke. "That's it, baby, you're doing so good for me," she husked, her voice thick with desire as tears streamed down your face. Finally letting go, her hands slipped over your head in a caress, allowing you to breathe again.

A sob escaped your lips as you pleaded, "Fuck me, Jen, please," your body aching with need to be filled by her.

"Is the poor pussy sore? Does it want to milk my cock? Does the brat want to be filled?" she teased, her balls heavy and loaded with cum.

"Yes, please, Jen," you cried out, desperation evident in your voice.

She looked at you with desire, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. "You'll be the death of me, Y/n," she groaned, breaching your entrance with swift precision. Your hands wrapped around her neck as she pulled your body flush against hers, biting your lower lip to stifle a moan.

"You wanted this, so moan as loud as you can, baby," she urged, her hips pounding against you, your legs wrapped around her waist, pushing her deeper with every thrust.

"S-Shit, Jen!" you cried out, your back arching as Yunjin's nails dug into your hips, leaving marks on your waist. The room echoed with the sound of slapping as Yunjin's hips angled to find your sweet spot. You clenched your walls, drawing a groan from her lips. Her hand trailed up your body, finding your breasts as she began to fumble with them, roughly kneading them and flicking past your nipples until they felt sore.

Her lips captured your nipple, sucking so hard it would surely leave a bruise. You couldn't withhold another moan as you arched your back, pressing your breasts closer to her face while she tugged with her teeth, biting your nipple before lapping at it with her warm, wet tongue.

"Fuck, baby," she grunted, her hips bristling with hunger, greed, and lust as her lips met yours again. The intensity of her thrusts made the headboard slam against the wall with each motion. You moaned loudly as her tip hit your sensitive spot, her grin repeating the movement until your legs shook with pleasure. Your walls tightened with every powerful thrust.

Yunjin threw her head back, the veins in her neck bulging with every movement of her muscles. Her hands gripped you closer to her, your stomach tightening with anticipation.

"I-Im close," you cried out, tears still streaming down your face as you gripped onto her hair. Yunjin got closer to your face, licking your tears as she felt your orgasm building.

Your orgasm hit you like a tsunami, waves of pleasure crashing over you as Yunjin moaned in tandem with your release. Thick, warm ropes of cum shot inside you as your body shook with aftershocks. Yunjin held you close to her, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you both came together.

"That's my good girl," she murmured, her cock slipping out coated in your mixed juices. She looked down at your abused pussy, groaning as it clenched around nothing, the remnants of your shared cum dripped down onto the sheets. Yunjin quickly retrieved a rag from the bathroom, gently cleaning your trembling body. "I'm sorry for going too rough on you, baby," she said softly, still wiping away the remnants of cum and sweat.

"It's okay," you murmured, exhausted. After she finished cleaning you, she kissed you tenderly all over your body, admiring your beauty.

"My baby is so beautiful," she whispered sweetly, caressing your body softly as you looked at her lovingly.

"I love you so much, Y/n," She told you.

"I love you too, sorry for being a brat," You whispered back.

"Believe it or not, I love it," she smirked.

You chuckled, "Then I guess I should say I love how rough you were with me," you teased, also smirking.

Yunjin's jaw dropped at the confession. "This will happen again, trust me," she husked with a smirk.

"Looking forward to it."

[fadingchaosgoatee]

ok is it just me or there's a curse with kazuha smaus like everytime an author posts a smau about zuha they like vanish idk if you read smaus but like @opertabry where are you

LMFAO THEY DO 😭 after an update they be goin centuries before updating a new one again

[fadingchaosgoatee]

I need friends and I MEAN IT I js went through a friendship breakup because SHE CHOSE HER GIRLFRIEND OVER OUR 1 YEAR FRIENDSHIP !2?1!2?2!2?!? ok I’m js crashing out again because my ego is bruised at how quick she is to throw me out

[fadingchaosgoatee]

oh man please let yunjin be ok 🥺 i hope it really is not something serious.

[fadingchaosgoatee]

request: g!p yunjin x subby bratty 6th member reader + i kinda made you guys hate each other in this... what's better than enemies to lovers heh.. let me know if i missed something anon!!

i was gooning while writing this... i thought i should let yall know🥹

cw: degradation (bitch, slut), u give unnie a bj then she fucks you, she slaps you, she bites your shoulder wc: 2.06k

You’re halfway onto the dorm kitchen counter when Yunjin walks in.

Of courseeee, of course it’s her and she has to walk in that exact moment.

You hear the sigh before she even speaks, and you know exactly what face she’s making without turning around, that pinched expression, all jaw tension and narrowed eyes, like she’s two seconds away from filing a formal complaint to management. “You’re seriously doing this again?”

You hum, unbothered, letting your legs dangle off the edge. “Good evening to you too, unnie.”

“I’m not in the mood, Y/n.”

“You never are. That’s part of your charm.”

Yunjin walks past you, snatches a protein shake out of the fridge, and shuts the door with a little more force than necessary. You catch the way her shoulder tenses, and for some reason, it makes you smile.

“I need the almond milk,” you say sweetly.

She doesn’t even look at you. “Use your legs.”

“I’m short.”

“Well isn't that tragic.”

You tilt your head, faking innocence. “But you’re so tall and sooooo helpful!! Wouldn’t it just make your day to do something nice for your teammate?”

She finally turns then, slow, deliberate, and levels you with that look. That sharp, unimpressed, I’m this close to drop-kicking you look.

“Why do you always start with me?” she asks, tone flat.

“Because it’s fun.”

Yunjin laughs. It’s humorless, barely more than an exhale. “You’re exhausting.”

“And yet, here you are, still talking to me.”

There’s a pause, just a second too long, where neither of you says anything. The air feels tight and charged, definitely not in a good way, not in a soft, flirty way either. It’s sharp, bristling.

You hop off the counter slowly, closing the gap between you with deliberate steps. Close enough that you can see the twitch in her jaw. “You’re not gonna get rid of me by pretending to hate me, y’know.”

She scoffs. “I’m not pretending.”

You smile, too wide to be sincere. “Sure, unnie.”

────୨ৎ────

You’ve been in LE SSERAFIM for just nearly a year, a late addition to the tight knit group, and already half the fandom thinks you and Yunjin want to kill each other.

The other half thinks you’re secretly hooking up behind closed doors.

You’re not, (unfortunately for the two of you.)

The reality is more complicated. She’s sharp, you’re sharp. She hates how loud you are, you hate how self-righteous she is. You poke, she snaps. It’s a cycle, an annoying routine.

It’s also weirdly addictive.

She’s the only one who doesn’t fold when you start acting up. The others laugh you off or play along. Yunjin just glares and tells you to shut up, and well, you kind of like it.

Not in a nice way… more in a grab her face mid-argument and see if she flinches kind of way.

────୨ৎ────

During practice, you “accidentally” switch your water bottle with hers.

She doesn’t notice until she takes a sip and gags, and you make a stank face while turned away because why is she gagging…?!

“Seriously, Y/n?” she glares.

“Oh no,” you deadpan. “Was that my bottle?”

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “You’re disgusting.”

You smile with teeth, cackling. “Want another sip, unnie?”

Chaewon calls a five-minute break before someone gets slapped.

────୨ৎ────

Later, after everyone’s gone quiet in the dorm, you creep into the kitchen again. It's 1:23 a.m. You’re not even hungry. You just like the silence.

Well, until she walks in, of course. Again.

“Let me guess,” you say, not even looking at her. “You sensed I was having a peaceful moment and came to ruin it.”

Yunjin doesn’t rise to the bait. Just grabs a glass and fills it from the sink.

“You’ve got issues,” she mutters.

You lean against the counter, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded. “Takes one to know one, unnie.”

“You think everything’s a game.”

You push off the counter, slowly approaching her. “And you hate that you can’t stop playing.”

She turns toward you then. Her eyes are dark, unreadable. There’s a pause, again, that silence that stretches just a little too long.

“You’re lucky you’re in the group,” she says, voice low. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t deal with you.”

You raise a brow. “Funny. You deal with me an awful lot for someone who supposedly can’t stand me.”

Her jaw clenches. “You think I enjoy this?”

“I think you enjoy being mad at me,” you murmur, stepping just close enough that your shoulder brushes hers. “Feels better than admitting you don’t know what to do with me.”

Yunjin holds your gaze. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. “Don’t flatter yourself, Y/n,” she says coldly. And yet, she doesn’t move away.

You stare at each other in the dark kitchen for another beat, both too stubborn to look away first.

Eventually, you smile again, slow, dangerous smile. “Goodnight, unnie.”

You brush past her on your way out, deliberately letting your hand graze her waist as you go, leaving her quiet. She doesn’t say a word.

But you know she won’t stop thinking about it, so you decide to trigger her one last time, and you shouldn't have done that (you should’ve done it earlier if you knew she was gonna snap the way she did).

────୨ৎ────

You plan something fun, something that you believe Yunjin would get angry at. You lean just a little too close to the male stylist, laughing at some dumb joke he made, placing a hand on his arm as you giggle like you don’t see the way Yunjin is watching you from across the dressing room.

You definitely see it, heat rising in your lower stomach at the way she’s staring at you.

She’s pretending to scroll on her phone, one leg crossed over the other, but you know her too well now. That sharp flick of her eyes. The way her fingers are drumming on the armrest like she’s holding herself back from throwing the nearest object. Her jaw clenched so hard it’s practically carved from stone.

You press your tongue into your cheek to hide your grin.

A little more. Just a little more, and she would snap. You ask the stylist to fix your shirt, practically pushing your tits in his face when—

“Y/n,” she snaps, sharp as glass. You glance over innocently. “Yes, unnie?”

“Get over here.”

The tone makes the stylist step away like he’s just been caught doing something illegal. You take your time walking over, all slow steps and sugar-sweet smiles, because if she’s gonna yell, you at least want to earn it.

“What’s up?” you ask, blinking like you didn’t just flirt with someone in her line of sight for five minutes straight.

Yunjin stands. It's like her anger gave her another few inches, because she looked taller (and hotter). And right now? Pissed.

She grabs your wrist and yanks you down the hallway, past stylists and makeup artists and assistants who all look away politely, as if they didn’t just witness the sexual equivalent of a bomb ticking.

“Yunjin,” you sing under your breath, “people are gonna think we’re sneaking off to make out.”

She doesn’t say anything.

She doesn’t have to, because the look in her eyes is louder than anything she could possibly say.

She pulls you into an empty dressing room and shuts the door with a slam. You have exactly two seconds to say something before she’s pushing you up against the wall, both hands braced on either side of your head.

The tension doesn’t crack. It shatters.

“Y/n? Really? Are you trying to piss me off?” she demands, voice low, shaking with something just under the surface.

You blink up at her, lips twitching. “Mmm. Maybe.”

Her eyes narrow. “You think it’s funny?”

“I think you being this mad over a stylist fixing my clothes and doing HIS JOB… is very funny.”

Her hands slam the wall. You flinch, but not in fear, but in thrill. “You don’t get it,” she says, voice rough. “You never get it.”

“Then explain it to me.” Yunjin stares you down, chest rising and falling too fast. Her hand moves, cups your jaw, roughly, like she’s thinking about shaking you. Or maybe kissing you. Or both.

“You walk around like everyone wants you,” she hisses. “You act like nothing touches you. Like none of this means anything.”

You smirk. “And yet here you are, pressed up against me, heavily breathing like you want to eat me or something.”

“I hate you, Y/n,” she spits, and you only laugh at that comment. “Liar.”

She freezes. You lean up, closing the last inch of space between you. Your voice drops to a whisper.

“So this is what it takes to make you touch me?” Her hand tightens on your jaw. “Yunjin—” And then she’s kissing you, hardly, messily and angrily.

It’s not romantic, it's not gentle. It’s the kind of kiss you’ve both been too proud to admit you wanted, all teeth and heat and months of shoved-down feelings exploding at once.

You gasp against her mouth, and she uses it to slide her tongue against yours like she’s punishing you for every smug smile, every flirtatious eye-roll, every whispered “unnie” that drove her insane.

“Get on your knees,” Yunjin commands. “Since your attitude is so fucking awful, you won't be able to walk straight for a week.”

She unzips her jeans while standing in front of you, her dick hard and throbbing. “Open wide,” she commands. You open your mouth, and she pushes your head down onto her shaft. She grabs your hair, holding you in place as she thrusts into your mouth.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” Yunjin groans. She pulls your head down further, fucking your throat. You gag and choke, saliva mixed with precum running down the side of your neck, but she doesn't let up. “That’s it, take it all,” she moans, “you were made for my cock.”

She pulls out and slaps your face hard. “Now it's your turn,” she says, running a hand through her hair. You got up, and Yunjin pushed you onto your tummy over the table, kicking your legs open.

You look up at her, tears running down the side of your face, squealing when she pushes her knee into your pussy, grinding against it, before replacing the sensation with her fingers. “Yunjin… a-ahh… unnie…”

The unnie in question only laughs, grabbing your hair and yanking your head back, to watch you as she fucked her fingers into you, dick getting harder as your moans spilled out of your mouth uncontrollably.

“You're such a dirty slut,” she said into your ear, her breath hitting you. “If you wanted to fuck me, you couldve just asked instead of trying to constantly make my life hell.”

Yunjin pushes your face into the dressing table, her dick rubbing against your ass. “I'm going to ruin your tight little pussy,” she groaned. “You're mine now.”

She thrusts into you from behind, her hips slapping against your ass. “Fuck, you're so tight,” she groans. “I could fuck you all day.” She pulls your hair harder, using it as a handle to fuck you deeper. “Take it, you little slut. Take my cock.”

Her hand reaches around to massage your clit roughly, the other hand leaving your hair to squeeze your nipple. The combined feelings made you throw your head back, arching into Yunjin further. “Cum for me, Y/n,” your older member gasps. “I want to… hah, feel you… fuck..” her thrusts are faster now, harder, and more sloppy. She leaned in closer to bite your shoulder, muffling her moans. “Now, bitch, cum now.”

You can't hold back any longer. You cum hard, your pussy clenching around her shaft. Yunjin follows soon after, emptying herself inside you. She pulls out and leans down, her lips meeting yours hungrily.

You break the kiss first, barely, forehead against hers, breathless and smiling. “Still hate me?” you whisper breathlessly, and “innocently”.

“Don’t push it,” she mutters. You reach for her hand and press it flat against your chest. “Too late.”

Yunjin curses under her breath, then pulls you in again, this time, slower.

────୨ৎ────

later that night, in your shared notes app draft:

> things that get yunjin to kiss/fuck you:

being a brat

talking to literally any man

calling her unnie in that voice

letting her lose control.

add more later (🤭)

[fadingchaosgoatee]

It’s frustrating how that one fandom can’t have their idol take accountability without DRAGGING another idol down 😞 likeee have they ever thought of touching some grass it’s honestly so disappointing that they even accused a 17 year old that’s in the US and can’t even vote yet. They are trying so hard ... I hope that company and the toxic fans rot in hell, die, choke in their blood, get twisted 360°, suffer

[fadingchaosgoatee]

Same dude same...

OH MY LORD*QO#)$(_Q@$U*@#%O@I$TYHRKJBF YUNJINQ_@)Q${PR"L:EF