#daniela avanzini imagines

[irisbloome]

···

daniela in gabriela (2025)

[eye4katz]

She likes a boy, and I'm not a boy || Daniela Avanzini

Pairings: D. A. x KATSEYE 7th Member Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff and slight angst

Content Warning: light cursing, mixed signals 🥶, unrequited (?), indenial!reader, possible slowburn

Synopsis: Being in a global pop group was already a dream come true, but getting close to someone you once admired from afar was the last thing you expected. All moments with her feels warm and platonic, until a member's teasing lead to a realization that Cupid already pierced your heart long ago. Does it hurt because you're falling for her? Or because you know that you're not a man?

It has been a year since Y/N joined Dream Academy and became a part of KATSEYE.

While she was a trainee and was a contestant on the show, she immediately caught Daniela Avanzini's presence. The girl was often quiet around Dani, too shy to blurt out words towards her.

Soon after the final line-up was announced, Dani and Y/N got surprisingly close with each other. Daniela would hug her from behind, kiss her cheeks every time she had a chance, and—of course—shower her with compliments.

Daniela can't sleep without cuddling her plushies, and that's a fact. So, Y/N just became her own human plushie.

Y/N, being Y/N, didn't know how to respond to that. Instead, she just reciprocates all the actions Dani did.

They would cuddle at night and let out a soft sigh in their sleep, contented at each other's presence. Or, if they can't make their way to dreamland, they would just stay up late to talk about random experiences—still while cuddling.

Y/N thought it was a normal thing that friends would do, not until Manon's gaydar made her think twice.

"You two seem like a couple," Manon whispered to Y/N as they took a couple of minutes' break from their choreo practice.

"The heck?" Y/N's head turned toward the older woman. Confusion was painted on her face.

Manon laughed slightly at the expected reaction. "Oh, you know. You've been staring at her like you two are already married."

"E-eh?! I'm not staring at Dani!" Y/N exclaimed quietly.

"I did not say a name~"

"But you're implying it!!"

Manon couldn't help but laugh at Y/N again, amused at her flushed face just from her teasing. "You can't fool me. It's obvious that you like her."

The other woman groaned. "Oh please, even if I like her, she's straight. Lara literally helps Dani compose break-up texts, and guess what? None of those messages went to a girl!"

She couldn't help but sigh. "She's straight, you know."

"No, I don't know that. We don't know that! She hasn't even confirmed or said she was straight!"

The younger member couldn't help but groan again. "She literally uses the 'Tears of Joy' emoji (😂) as an indication of something funny instead of the crying one! No sapphic—or any wuhluhwuh person would use that!

"Okay. Well, if she's straight, so is spaghetti—"

The Swiss woman got interrupted by her member, knowing the golden quote people used to flirt with straight gals. "Oh, please! Keep it PG!"

Manon couldn't help but laugh. She then turned serious and a little soft minutes after.

"Why not take a risk? In the end, we only regret the chances we didn't take."

Y/N just shrugged. "It's not like I have a crush on her to even take this invisible chance."

"Denial is a river in Egypt!" were the words from the older woman, making Y/N glare at her.

Manon just sighed, turning serious again, not wanting to put pressure on the younger member. "Okay, okay. Sorry."

"But if something happens, I'm always here for you," she added as she gave the younger one a good squeeze on her shoulder. This made Y/N's heart lighter.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A week later, four of the girls: Manon, Dani, Y/N, and Lara were in the middle of their livestream. A bunch of banter, teasing, and laughter could be heard inside Danon’s room.

Lara and Manon were lying on their stomachs as they watched the comments fly across the screen, sandwiching Y/N, who was also in the same position as them.

Dani was trying to get herself into the camera frame, grunting as she shifted on top of Y/N’s back and sat there.

Lara noticed this and laughed softly. “Omg, Y/N’s back is so strong.”

Manon looked at the two, smirking teasingly, which is something Y/N immediately caught.

“Am not.” Y/N just shrugged off Lara’s statement.

“She’s used to being under Dani every night. That's a no wonder,” the Swiss woman rebutted.

The other three gasped before scolding her.

“You’re gonna make me have a scandal, Manon!” Y/N exclaimed.

“I’m straight, guys, chill!” The Latina laughed a little too loudly for Y/N’s liking.

The room went slightly silent. Manon, being the eldest and the one who was aware of her member’s feelings, noticed Y/N’s change in energy. She took the initiative to break the uncomfortable tension.

“Congrats, Dani! Congrats on coming out straight!” she said. Lara also joined the teasing, making Daniela laugh.

Y/N didn’t want to look like it affected her. Thus, she went in on the joke with her members.

After about two hours, they finally ended their live.

“Dayum, my vocal cords feel like they’re gonna rip out every time I speak,” Manon said before letting out the most diabolical cough a human had ever heard.

Y/N then barked out laughing, still not over the chaos they caused during the livestream. “Babes, you kept bantering with Lara and the eyekons.”

“WELL, THEY KEPT SAYING I LOOK LIKE ELPHABA AND GLINDA’S LOVE CHILD!”

“BAE, IT’S A COMPLIMENT—”

Lara just watched the scene unfold before her eyes, laughing at the two women’s banter. She might literally develop abs just from laughing so hard at them.

Dani, sitting on the edge of the bed, was somehow lost in her phone. She grinned at the screen as she typed, perhaps constructing a message—until the words that came out of Y/N’s mouth made her look up.

“Nuh-uh! Lara and I aren’t gonna sleep over here anymore since you’re against us!” she exclaimed seriously. (It’s obvious they’re teasing each other, duh.)

“OH, SEE IF I CARE!” Manon replied, her tone just serious enough to mask the playfulness in her voice.

Dani looked at Y/N before muttering, “Are you being for real?” As if she were quietly yearning for Y/N’s time, affection, and maybe… her love.

Her eyes searched for something that would reassure her that Y/N was going to stay with her—with Manon and Lara, of course.

Y/N heard the Latina’s soft voice, making her stop mid-sentence, even though she still hadn’t fully recovered from the official declaration Dani made during the live.

She then looked at her favorite member, her voice mirroring the softness Dani had given her.

“No. Of course not, Dani.”

Dani sighed contentedly.

Was she relieved because the argument wasn’t serious?

Or because Y/N would be staying with her?

Well… that’s what Y/N wondered, too.

They stared at each other for a moment before Manon hit Y/N’s back with a pillow, noticing and breaking the two girls’ longing eye contact.

“Move, bitch. We’re gonna sleep,” Manon said playfully, her statement followed by Lara’s giggle.

“Old people really need their eight hours of rest, huh?” Dani joked at Manon, as if she hadn’t just shared a deep connection with Y/N—or what Y/N thought was deep.

Manon groaned. “Oh, you three are ganging up on me. I see.” Genuine laughter then filled the room.

The two girls climbed onto Dani’s bed and made themselves comfy, Lara and Manon also did lay on Manon's bed.

“Night, girls!” Lara chimed in.

The other three greeted each other good night in return.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The room would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the moonlight seeping through the curtains. It was quiet, except for the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional soft sighs of those already asleep.

While Manon and Lara slept comfortably on a single bed, Y/N felt like Dani's bed was a battlefield.

How could she possibly fall asleep when Dani’s arms were wrapped around her waist, the Latina’s nose nuzzled against her neck, and the curly-haired girl’s leg draped over her thighs?

It’s not like she wasn’t used to this after the times they went through, right? But she had become hyperaware of their closeness ever since Manon pointed out something she had never even considered. Thanks, Bannerman!

Y/N shifted into a couple of positions to find the most comfortable one, hoping not to wake the person beside her.

Well, to be fair, she wasn't even asleep.

"You fine there?" Dani suddenly whispered right when Y/N turned to lay on her side, facing away from Daniela.

Y/N's body jolted from the sudden voice. Her tongue got tied for a second, "A-ah- yeah, uh- I'm fine." She then turned around and lay on her back.

Dani took this chance to put her head on her member's chest. If the room wasn't too dark, Y/N's flustered cheek would be visible by now.

"Did I disturb you?"

"Nah, you're good. I just can't sleep."

"Mhm, me neither."

"..."

"..."

"You look pretty in tonight's livestream."

This made Y/N's throat tighten and go dry, as if it's her first time receiving compliments from Daniela all over again, even though it really never stops feeling like that.

"Thanks, Dani." She finally managed to reply.

Dani smiled lazily, drawing faint circles on her member's waist. "I might not show it all the time, but you're like my favorite friend in the world."

Shit, right. Friends! She likes a boy, and I'm not even a boy! We're just friends!

Y/N thought, bringing herself back to reality.

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” she managed to say quietly.

As Daniela fell asleep on Y/N’s chest, she stared at the Latina’s face. The moonlight helped her see a few of Dani’s beauty marks—adoring and admiring how perfectly they were placed. Yet, Y/N couldn't help but let her mind wander off.

Why did it affect her so much that she and Dani were only friends?

Would things be different if Y/N were a man?

These were questions she shouldn’t be asking herself about a friend.

"In the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take." Were the words from her best friend echoed in Y/N’s mind that night. She couldn’t deny the truth in them.

That’s when she realized... Manon was right. Y/N really did liked Daniela, loved her even.

The Swiss woman would definitely go off celebrating because she was right… and she’d probably got her ego boosted about all her intuition shits, too.

Y/N groaned internally, knowing how messy it would be to deal with feelings that were burning slowly, especially when they involved a friend slash a co-worker.

She hated not being able to predict the future. She hated not being sure of the consequences of her own feelings.

Y/N hoped that even if she's not a boy, she would still be Daniela's favorite, but not as a friend anymore.

The chances—well, they’re 50/50.

Would she take the risk and trust the odds?

Or would she keep carrying the weight of the baggages of her feelings?

[4kozy]

daniela as ur monster gf hcs

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daniela is a werewolf, which means there’s hair everywhere. and i do mean everywhere.

were-dani is louder than normal daniela, if that’s even possible… every scream trails off into a howl, regardless of if the scream is happy or sad. you wear earplugs, but like to remind her that yes, you have neighbors and yes, you would very much not like to be evicted.

were-dani keeps small wolf-like traits even when not completely transformed. she’s got small whiskers, large canines, and long claws. you like to paint her claws purple.

were-dani will sulk to get what she wants, and does it knowing that you’ll cave in 2.3 seconds.

as much as i’d love to say were-dani doesn’t get jealous, she definitely does. daniela is as territorial as it gets, often choosing more extreme measures to show how off-limits you are. ( do you know how bad she had to beat that man to get banned from the waffle house on 10th St? )

on that topic, were-dani marks you. a lot. and it’s not very sexual to her, just pure instinct–second nature. she wants people to know that you belong to somebody, the way she belongs to you. you could be relaxing on the couch together one minute, and the next, her teeth are grazing the back of your neck, hands rubbing your thighs softly to distract you from the fact that it’s gonna hurt! ( you’ve told her it’s okay to bite. she’s very grateful. )

were-dani is super high energy! expect your dates to be very, very, physically intensive. ( this will apply to other things. )

were-dani likes to be with you at all times, and not in the way that gf!franken megs is ( one of her body parts in ur damn pocket…🙄 ) . it’s literally that she’s ALWAYS with you. you end up working from home because of the face she used to make when you got back home late. you hate disappointing her.

she will never ever share this, but you know were-dani likes being pet.

if you’re tired, or not in the mood to do bungee jumping for the fourth time that week, were-dani is not opposed to taking small hikes as an alternative. she likes to talk, so you choose to listen to her instead of your music, even if you’ve heard the story so many times before.

you don’t allow were-dani to go to the gym anymore. she broke the vertical row somehow… ( it cost a fortune to replace. you don’t say this because it’ll make her feel worse. )

were-dani fucking despises cats. even more, she despises werecats. it takes a prayer, a soft pat to her back, and a quick turn in the opposite direction to MAYBE avoid another issue out in public. ( during the new moon and waning phases, this doesn’t happen at all. )

were-dani’s more extreme behavior only happens during the waxing phases and full moon. she can’t explain it to you, but does understand why you like to go out more when it’s not taking place.

sometimes were-dani gets scared that you’ll leave because she can’t control herself sometimes. you have to remind her it’s part of her curse, and that you don’t blame her for anything. ( you won’t say it because she doesn’t like to hear it, but you genuinely love every part of her. even the curse. )

during your first full moon together, were-dani almost ripped you apart, like some of your poor furniture. somehow, she stopped herself just before, letting her terrified girlfriend pet her as if nothing happened before you passed out. you’ve got deep scars on your back from the incident, and if it weren’t for your neighbors, megan and her girlfriend, you’re pretty sure you would’ve died. daniela never remembers her transformations, so even when she begs you to tell her what happened, you don’t. ( you know she knows )

ever since that night, turned were-dani is more like a dog than the hulking 9ft tall beast that you first met. you had to buy a much bigger couch–she broke it trying to lay with you. ( you also have to pet her a lot, or she’ll get crabby. )

turned were-dani is even clingier than the normal one, and way more slobbery😞 you find it super gross but put up with it for your poor girlfriend’s sake. you know that no matter how disgusting it gets, she’s in infinitely more pain than you are, and even more considerate of her, before she turns, she chooses to lock herself in the spare room–hoping to keep you out of it. your neighbor, megan, built a steel door for you guys after the first incident, but when daniela smells you, it doesn’t last long. ( megan takes the time out every month to replace it. )

you keep raw meat in your fridge. though were-dani won’t admit it, she does eat it–and likes it a bunch.

were-dani, no matter how ironic it is, can sometimes be unaware ( it’s the human in her ) … but with her heightened senses, always knows when you’re upset. once she gets the idea that you are ( she’s always right ), expect to be taken care of like the royalty she knows you are. NOT that she doesn’t always, but even more when something’s going on. trust, when daniela gets into that mode, there’s no end. ( it’d be overbearing if you didn’t know she was 100% or nothing )

were-dani has a bunch of hair all over her after she turns. you let her have the bathroom for the day so she can take care of it.

and when she’s not turned, were-dani just naturally grows hair like weeds! you give her haircuts every friday, while you two watch a movie together.

were-dani’s favorite hobby is carving, surprisingly. it’s the only one that absorbs all her attention once she starts, so make sure you’ve had all the time you wanted with her beforehand. of course, she’s fucking amazing, so you have a crazy amount of wood pieces everywhere. ( your favorite is the heart. it has both of your initials in it. )

when you and were-dani kiss, it’s very frantic. it’s not soft ever, and it might just be the fact that she’s cursed with a wild animal, or the fact that she’s very in love with you and needs you like the air she breathes.

were-dani is like one of those mascs that can’t tell when someone’s flirting with her or being friendly–you can and she thinks it’s very attractive when you get jealous, even when she laughs at you. don’t bring up her jealous freak outs though, or she’ll be irritating.

were-dani likes try new things all the time, but because of her hypersensitivity she has to be careful. strong smells, bright lights, loud noises ( ironic ), and harsh tastes hurt her. your first date, she was wearing sunglasses, earplugs, and kept covering her nose. you thought it was because you stank, and after a ton of explaining–and a second date–you realized it was the fair itself.

were-dani tends to get upset when she looks at pictures of herself before she was cursed. you never say anything, choosing to give her a hug instead. there’s deep claw marks in her legs and arms, eerily similar to the ones in your back. she doesn’t like to think about it, but deep down she knows she hurt you–if any saliva had gotten into your wounds, you would’ve ended up like her. ( she always apologizes for it when you’re asleep, tracing the scars lightly with the pads of her fingers. she’d apologize when you’re awake but you get mad at her for it. )

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anyway daniela is my WIFE i love her so much 😍ignore the fact that i only made daniela a werewolf because bushes are better than bare… BUT STAY W ME!!l werewolves AND daniela serve charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and freaking talent🙏

[lara4eclipze]

𝓢cream for me

— ( 🔪 ) when you put your body on mine, and collide — collide

daniela avanzini x fem!reader, suggestive, fluff, swearing, mentions of murder, torture, dani is possesive and most of the time jelous here, wc [?], tags listed below

north side high has never been this quiet, well ever since the murder cases started floating people became paranoid — especially you, the people dying were either close with you or you had once talked too

you always had this feeling that you were next, its like the perpetrator is pickin out your circle of friends one by one, and each time someone died the knife inches closer to you

so did the blame, with an unknown killer on the loose everyone is pointing fingers on who it might be, and you? your the main suspect like mentioned earlier everyone dying was in your circle

"i just don't know, karlee — I'm scared" you mutter through the call, you've been on this call for maybe 6 hours, and it gave you a sense of safety having someone to talk to

it terrified you that you might be next, you wanted to know the motive, why would the killer pick off your friends one by one, and what did they do to deserve that

"y/n... I'm hearing something in our kitchen" karlee mutters fear evident in her voice, your heart drops thinking of the worst thing that could happen, and your hands tighten their grip on the phone squeezing it impossibly tight

"fuck- , karlee stay put I'm gonna call the police" you frantically stutter, "no you wouldn't" you hear a menacing voice speak on the line, your face turns pale upon the realization

the next second you heard karlees blood curdling scream, the camera was pitch black but you can tell from the sounds of guts and blood that she was getting torn apart

you cried hearing the pain karlee was in — your hands shake as you kept hearing the splattering of blood, till it started fading

"y/n.." you hear karlees broken sob — "oh shut up" you hear the perpetrator spit after so stabbing karlee one last time taking the life out of the girl

you didn't know what to do, your tears fell in sorrow and fear — the police came asking you what happened and it was hard to say the least — just remembering how karlee screamed and how you couldn't do anything

the next day, daniela your friend asked to sleepover, saying her parents were out of town and she didn't feel safe alone, you lived alone and having someone around was good for you

"hi dani" you mutter letting daniela in — your eyebags were huge and your so shaky that even daniela couldn't help but feel a tiny bit guilty, "how are you handling things?" daniela softly asked as you two sat on your bed — "i don't k-know.." you sputtered before you ultimately sobbed

the latina immediately hugged you as you fell down on her, an odd sense of triumph ran through her, she knew she had successfully eliminated anyone who could stop her from having what she wanted the most — you

"shh, its okay — ill keep you safe" she whispers like a lullaby to you as you've finally calmed down a bit — "I'm sorry karlee died, y/n" dani follows

then it clicked for you — the police had kept karlees death a secret and its not like the latina was related to any authority figure

you tense up thinking of your safety, how you are probably hugging the killer, the very one who stabbed and killed your friends, the older woman realized how she slipped up and she right away tightens her hug on your torso

"y/n its either you stay with me or you're fucking next, i will do anything to have you" daniela spits, you freeze just letting her handle you she slowly hugs you again softing her voice

daniela holds your face in between her hands, "cause if you tell who'd believe you?, would they listen to the number one suspect?" daniela condescendingly mocks you

"if you dare try to escape me, ill fucking kill everyone in this place" she threatened still smiling sickeningly sweet, you wanted justice but is it worth losing more people to?

it haunted you how you couldn't help, how you couldn't tell anyone who the killer was, after that day daniela always had her eyes on you, she somehow planted cameras in your dorm tracking your every move

you hated her guts, you hated daniela avanzini — yet you knew one wrong move and you'll be bleeding in your dorm without anyone knowing why

[manonsmartini]

Maniac: a three-part story (angst)

Daniela Avanzini x fem!reader

Sypnosis: A dancer turned idol in a global pop group, her success growing in each day that passes. She thought she could leave her past behind and focus on building a better future for herself. That is until a rising indie star comes into the picture, singing about their past. Not expecting the attention her song will get, she was taken by surprise when the idol’s fans started connecting the dots, and their past starts affecting their present.

I. we had magic but you made it tragic

II. all alone with a shovel and a rose

III. maniac

heavily based on conan gray’s maniac. contains homophobia & internalized homophobia. more warnings will be provided per chapter. will include some social media elements that is necessary for the plot. new writer here pls be kind :’>

[sillymommy6969]

𝓢𝒖𝒃𝒕𝒍𝒆 & 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕, 𝓓.𝓐.

♱ 𝒚𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐; daniela’s a passionate woman, and the thrill of getting caught showing it really flicks a switch in her

♱ 𝒄𝒘; 7th member au!r, horned-up!dani, touchy!dani

𝑪𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆, pt. one, two, three

𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒊 𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝑲𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝑨𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒀𝒐𝒖

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip one: [ tiktok ] doing shit w dani (@katseye)

“like you’re such a fucking angel,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. though, you didn’t bother fighting the grin that spread across your lips at the banter. “drop the saint act, daniela.”

“oh, come on, mami. i’m as pure as they come,” the latina purred, her tongue tracing the corner of her mouth.

she had the phone set on her desk in her room, sporting a pink stussy beanie under the pulled hood of her black zip-up. she sat back into her black swivel chair, her legs spread wide, and a slice of pizza in hand. you sat in manon’s chair beside her, body just out of frame as you leant in close over her shoulder to engage with your eager fans and their comments on live.

“if you’re pure, then i’m the virgin mary.” you whispered, bopping the tip of her nose with your finger.

“you don’t meet the most important requirement to be the ‘virgin’ mary.” she teased. you scoff, shoving her.

she grabbed your wrist lightly, making loud grunts as she fake-gnawed your arm. you squealed, jerking away as daniela let out a loud series of laughter. she had yanked the slice straight from your hand, biting into it. you sat up, clicking your tongue.

user01 not religious but on my knees at this altar

user02 she can be barbie and i can be the box she comes in

user03 “till-” no we’re not stopping this threesome i fear

user04 call me benson goon cuz im taking off my blue jeans

“daniela andrea,” you called sternly. she just stared back with a teasing glint in her eye, smirking. “if you don’t give me back my dinner, i’ll send you up to meet the virgin mary.”

she shrugged, “sorry, mami, you don’t deserve it. you can’t be disrespecting me when you’re eating the pizza i bought.”

you stood, knocking manon’s chair back a couple inches. you shot her a faux look of irritant, scrunching your nose. “well, i’m grabbing another piece of the pizza you bought. you asked me to join you, so i expect some kind of compensation.”

just as you wedged yourself between daniela and her desk, she grabbed your hips roughly, pulling you back and down into her lap. her hand grabbed the underside of your knees, the other supporting the small of your back. she pushed her chair back with her feet, wheeling away from the camera. her name rolled off your tongue like a cursed chain, you grabbed onto her tightly in fear of rolling off her thighs and onto the floor.

daniela quickly stood up, taking advantage of the momentum to throw you on her bed. though, she couldn’t let go quick enough, and her body tumbled into yours. just out of frame.

user05 born to ride or whatever lana del rey said

user06 i’ll have what they’re having… and the pizza too ig

user07 okay guys jokes over who took my clothes

daniela laid atop of you, her arms still around your body as you playfully slapped her back. you groaned, struggling to move from under her. thankfully, the two of you were just conveniently out of frame. “dani--!” you whined, struggling to wrong free from her grasp. “get off, you’re heavy.”

she gasped, sitting up. “i’m not heavy! don’t fat-shame me.”

“maybe stop eating so much pizza, you little--!” you rolled over, grabbing daniela’s pillow and smothering her with it. you hear her scream at the top of her lungs into the fur, before grabbing at your hips anchored over hers.

user08 so y/n’s the type gf to straddle you?? scotty beam me

user09 we used to pray for a ankle reveals i feel so blessed

user10 i just know these two have the craziest sesbian lex

you managed to wriggle away from a laughing daniela. you returned to the desk, leaving the younger panting, lying alone on her bed. you grabbed a new slice from the box, biting into the corner. “anyway--sorry you had to witness that little pause, guys. dani woke up and decided to be a brat today.”

“aye, i leave you alone with the camera for a minute and you’re talking shit about me, mami?” the latina chuckled, setting herself down beside you. she pulled your chair by the armrest, close, and into her embrace as she leant over to bite your slice. “you’re the one messing up my momentum up in here.”

she refused to back away, getting in your personal space like her life depended on it. her head rested on your shoulder for the rest of the live, her hands roaming your midsection as she hugged you from the side. you didn’t seem to notice, or mind, as her fingers dragged across your body like she was writing.

user11 damn gotta pry y/n out of dani’s cold dead hands huh

user12 girl chill ain’t nobody tryna take her from you

user13 y/n got our girl acting up like how good is that strap

user14 i wish someone would put me in my place too

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip two: [ yt video ] katseye’s routine (@glossier)

daniela could stare at you for days on end. it was an issue.

she’s seen the edits, she’s seen the tiktoks, but it didn’t matter how many times she told herself she was going to be careful the next interview or the next press event, she just couldn’t. it was almost like she wasn’t physically able to.

setting her up with you for the glossier video was such bullshit. she swore the team was praying on her downfall. this was their doing--can they really blame her when she couldn’t control it?

“good morning, people of america.” you sang, adjusting your headband in the mirror. daniela’s eyes trained on you, and though the camera sat faced away from the mirror, the fans were certain she was watching your reflection. “this is a ‘get ready with me’ with y/n and daniela from katseye.”

she waved to the camera, her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth. “today, we’re showing you our makeup routine.”

“wait, i love the braid band.” you complimented, turning your back towards the latina. she couldn’t keep the smile from creeping on her lips. “that’s so easy, i wish i could do that.”

the video cut to manon and sophia, then the maknae line. it wasn’t long before the two of you were back on screen.

“personally, i love a more glossy look. i used to really enjoy the matte finish back in, like, 2013, when it was all about youtube tutorials and king kylie tumblr girls, y’know?” daniela hummed, watching you spray mario bodescu all over. your cheeks glisten, the mist highlighting your features. she stilled, like she had forgotten she was supposed to be starting her routine as well. “but now, i just think the sweaty look works.”

daniela laughed, “you did not just quote tyla at me.”

“no, but she’s so real for that!” you giggled, fanning your face as the primer set. “honestly, i don’t think i can pull off the matte look the way i did when i was like thirteen. my friends from home still clown me with those pictures.”

“like you could ever look that bad.” daniela rolled her eyes, “didn’t we do that style for the debut concept shoot?”

you glared at her, a small teasing smile on her lips. “okay, didn’t have to call me out like that--aren’t we supposed to start? why am i the only one doing a routine right now?”

one of her hands were around your waist, the other picking up her facial spray. she snuck one last glance at you through the mirror before her hand left your hip, misting her features.

after a few interludes of the others starting off their routine, the two of you were centre of attention again.

“valerie put us on this amazing foundation,” daniela said, holding the bottle up to the camera with a hand behind. she once again, snuck you a look, watching you put it on before she does it herself. “it’s the glossier stretch fluid foundation.”

“yeah, it makes me look like i actually drink water.”

“i know you drink water, mami,” the latina added, putting on her own foundation. “i got you that big owala, remember? i made sure you put that thing to good use. wait, isn’t that--!”

she leant over you, covering the camera with her arm for a brief moment before she pulled back, a large bottle in hand.

“oh, yeah, it’s here. i bring it with me everywhere.” you said.

daniela struck a few poses with it, pouting before handing it to you. as your lips latched around the straw to take a sip, her hand found the small of your back, before she got in close to take a large swig of water as well. “see? drink your water, kids.”

user01 is this a grwm or a third-wheeling campaign

user02 dani acting up again she be all over our girl lmao

user03 ok guys not funny who took my clothes

user04 so did glossier just decide we were third wheeling tdy

“i love this liner. i was asking ariana greenblatt about her lip combo at the barbie premiere afterparty last year, and she put me onto makeup forever.” your body leant in close to the mirror, pressing your lips together. you carefully dragged the tip of the pencil across your lips, but you were struggling to keep the tip within your lips. you sighed in frustration. “fuck, i need to sharpen this thing, it’s not working.”

daniela’s hand left your back, grabbing your pencil. she rummaged through her makeup bag. “here, i have mine.”

when she was done sharpening your pencil, she twirled her finger, and naturally, you turned towards her. your eyes flickered to the floor as her fingers gently grabbed your chin. she pursed her lips, you mirrored her action. she carefully fixed the missed lining, before dragging her thumb across the top of your lip for a cleaner edge. “there we go. isn’t that better?”

you knew it closer to the camera, smiling and tilting your head side to side. “we love a clean liner here.”

“si, mami, me encanta el buen maquillaje,” daniela announced in a sing-song voice. she circled her arms around your neck, burying her nose into your cheek. “y te amo, guapa.”

“yo tambien, te quiero, dani.” you whispered, hugging her hips.

user05 the fact she knows the spanish ilyt is crazy

user06 the way it rolled off her tongue so fast too she knew

user07 oh baby had that answer locked and loaded

“wait, i’ve never tried that one before.” you said, trying to read the label on daniela’s lipgloss. it was a new edition glossier gloss, one you haven’t seen yet. “can i try yours, please?”

she nodded, handing you the tube. you quickly applied it, but in the short couple seconds you were fixing your lips, daniela’s eyes never tore away from your face. she smiled.

“mmh. this isn’t really my colour,” you sighed, setting it down.

“no, no, you look good. you look sexy,” daniela assured, her lips spreading into a wide smile. “

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip three: [ weverse ] making gnarly sandwiches

“absolutely the fuck not, that shit looks radioactive.” daniela scoffed, her head pulling back and away from manon’s sandwich. the older pouted, insistent with the way she kept leaning forward. “manon--stop! i don’t consent!”

“come on, it’s not even that bad. just try it!” the ghanaian woman barked back, chasing daniela around the set.

you focused on stacking the ghastly ingredients in between the two flimsy slices. mustard was sliding out, and as you crushed the bread into each other, the tuna juice dribbled all over your fingers. it was beyond disgusting, but somehow, not the grossest thing sitting at the table right then.

user01 danon divorce preachers been real quiet in this live

user02 y/n’s so focused this gg is so unserious

user03 omg not megan force feeding sophia her sandwich

the eldest eventually gave into daniela’s protests, growing tired of chasing the woman around with a plate in her hands.she managed to give yoonchae a tiny bite, as the youngest made a face, diving towards the sink to spit out the disgusting bite.

daniela found her spot beside you, shooting her roommate a disapproving scowl as manon tended to a hacking yoonchae by the sink. the latina rested her chin on your shoulder.

“someone said, ‘i need y/n in my life’.” sophia read off the ipad at the edge of the table. she peered over at you, who was still focused on the sandwich before her. daniela’s arms wrapped around your midsection tightly, she snarled at the main camera. you weren’t fazed, holding up your plate.

“too bad, she’s all mine.” the latina purred, “get your own.”

user04 damn ok girl ain’t nobody tryna square up rn

user05 until she forgets how to speak spanish

user06 don’t know who i want to be more honestly

you picked the sandwich off your plate, holding it up to daniela’s face. the girl instinctively pulled back, but upon seeing your look of excitement, she couldn’t deny the request that followed. “wait, dani, try mine. it’s not that bad.”

though the girl grimaced, and eyed your sandwich like it was radioactive, she didn’t need another beat to move in for a bite.

it was disgusting, gnarly, if you will. but still, daniela persisted. she managed to swallow the bite, but washed the gamy aftertaste down with half a bottle of water. you laughed at her reaction, dusting your hands off before brushing some hair out of her face. she faked a dramatic gag, a hand on her chest.

“jesus christ, it tastes like monkey ass.” she scoffed. you hit her chest lightly, clicking your tongue. “i mean--mmh, yum.”

user07 damn gotta fake it for the wife huh

user08 seven times a day or whatever jhope said

user09 they finna make me hit the ggum emote

“manz, will you come try it?” you pleaded softly, beckoning her over with a wishful pout. “it’s not that bad, i swear.”

manon raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. she dramatically eyed your plate, then back up at your eyes. “don’t play with me, babe, i saw the way daniela just choked to that.”

“no, dani loved it. right, babe?” you grinned, awaiting support.

daniela’s eyes widened immediately, she was about to choke out some lazy reply before she caught the hopeful glint in your eye. it was just too precious to ruin, so she bit back whatever sass she would usually spit. if you were anybody else.

“it wasn’t that bad.” she shrugged, her fingers trapping at your stomach as they found their way under your shirt. “y/n made it, so of course it was good. definitely better than yours.”

“uhm, excuse you?” the eldest scoffed, “you’re biased.”

“i don’t know… if you try it, you won’t think so.” you wiggled the sandwich in your hand, as if enticing manon. still, the older woman didn’t seem to budge from her stance.

“just try her sandwich, manz.” daniela ordered, “come on.”

the eldest groaned, slowly sauntering over before hesitantly leaning in for the tiniest bite she could manage. and though the mixture of ingredients looked atrocious, the taste was meshed awfully well. manon’s eyes narrowed, humming.

“oh my god, that’s actually not bad.” she was promptly pushed out of the way by megan, who pleaded for a taste too.

daniela smiled as you beamed at the members lining up to judge for themselves, front pressed against your back in a tight embrace. the only people who seemed fazed was eyekons.

user10 the fact that this is a normal occurrence

user11 dani fighting invisible demons for her woman rn

user12 “married couple making sandwiches for their kids” ahh

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip four: [ weverse ] roommates hanging out

“okay, what’s a rumour you guys want to debunk?” manon read, turning to give you a look. you laid beside her on the bed, picking at your newly filed nails. “y/n? you wanna go?”

you looked off camera at lara, who smirked teasingly between you and daniela, who was eating the kimchi stew she ordered.

“uh--ooh! i saw some tiktoks like clipping that picture of me and dylan at coachella. we are not dating, guys, i’ve known dylan for years, he’s like my brother.” you announced, earning a loud series of hysterical laughter from lara and manon.

if only they knew how many you could’ve chosen from.

at coachella, you spent some time with dylan. it was such good luck katseye and the wallows were set to perform on the same day, because it gave you some quality time to see your friends. but tabloids being tabloids loved taking things out of context, so of course the pictures of you hugging him, or the ones of him with his arm around you as the both of you stand to tyler, the creator’s set, were posted as ‘dating confirmations’.

“oh my god, i remember my sister sending me this tiktok that’s like ‘y/n and dylan’s story’ and it was like clips of them from five years ago.” lara laughed, “she was all like, ‘y/n’s dating the guy from thirteen reasons why?’ it was so stupid and funny.”

you rolled your eyes, sighing deeply. “stop, it was so bad.”

“guys, stop exposing y/n and dylan like that,” manon whined, unable to hold back her smile. “leave the couple alone.”

“guys, dylan has a whole ass girlfriend, don’t get me in shit for something that isn’t true.” you warned, leaning close to the phone. “me and dylan are not dating. we’re not a couple. we’re just really good friends, stop tagging us in the ship edits.”

user01 the fake eyekons are forgetting they’re actual people

user02 yeah they’re both taken guys come on now

user03 dani going quiet rn is so out of character lmao

the latina sauntered around the beds, you felt manon’s bed dip behind you as she curled herself around you. she stuck her legs through your arm propping yourself up, you lay on her instinctively, your arm across her lap as you held your head up. her fingers stroked your hair, as you droned on and on.

“no, ‘cuz i remember you were like on the phone with dylan talking about it after coachella.” manon added, “it was like when… that one article dropped, right?”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, we were fighting for our life, girl.”

“it was actually such an era. dylan took it like a champ though, props to him.” lara chuckled, “dani? any rumours to debunk?”

it took her a split second to snap out of her daze, you shot her a look from under her. she coughed, clearing her throat.

“no…? nothing’s really coming to mind right now.” she faked a moment of thought, but ended up shaking her head anyways.

user04 girl is sweating rn lmao all eyes on her

user05 she knows she’s lying out her ass right now

user06 address the #dann/n allegations mother

manon, who was reading the comments, had a growing grin on her face. she snapped her head back, and all she needed to do was give daniela one sly smirk, the latina knew exactly what the fans were begging for. “you sure about that, dani?”

she glared at her roommate, who just made a very unsubtle face. you lightly smack manon, the eldest held her hands up.

“god, must you always instigate?” you asked, scowling.

user07 damn she got her wife stepping up for her

user08 she’s so hot guys i can’t do this shit anymore

user09 she said shut down those allegations fr

user10 manon is our strongest dann/n warrior i fear

“--lara!” daniela suddenly raised, her eyes finding the indian singer’s, but her hands still tending to your hair. “what about you, babe. you got any rumours you want to debunk?”

and though the topic of discussion seemed to shift away from you, clips of you and daniela cuddling and being unable to pry yourselves away from each other were a hot topic on weverse and eyekonville. the two of you might not need to verbally debunk anything, because your actions certainly prove the fandom’s speculation may be more than just rumours.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ clip five: [ yt video ] katseye spilling truth on allure

“mami, don’t lie, we know you better than that.”

you were caught right then and there, as if you could ever convince anybody daniela wasn’t the first person you looked for when you entered a room. the girls collectively gave you ‘seriously?’ looks, pinning a spotlight all on you.

“y/n, how are you like when you have a crush?” lara repeated.

you hated answering questions like these. it gave the fans too much power. “uhm… well, i’m not a big physical touch person, but if i like someone, i’ll get really touchy.”

a quick compilation of you only letting daniela anywhere near your personal space was inserted. then a couple clips of you shying away from the other members’ grasp.

“let me tell you, one time, like a long time ago, y/n and i were on a double date. like, we snuck out of my parents’ house and we had a double date, and y/n was so disgusted by the thought of letting him hold her hand, she was like icing her date out the whole time.” lara laughed, “it was so funny, like she was allergic to his hand or something.”

the girls all broke into laughter at the story. they were no stranger to this inside joke, much to daniela’s dismay.

“well…” manon started, peaking at the card in lara’s hand, “the follow up question is, ‘do you have a crush on someone now?”

you fell silent, your cheeks flushing with heat.

sophia wheezed, poking the side of your cheek. you jerked away, trying to hide your smile. “look, y/n’s getting red. aww!”

“can i pass this question?” you asked, “is that an option?”

“no, no, you have the answer the question, that’s the game!” yoonchae yelled, standing from her seat. “spill, or drink!”

daniela was awfully quiet this entire turn. she only stared at you, not even tearing her gaze away for sophia’s shouting or lara’s vicious laughter. she had a small smile on her lips, her piercing eyes trained on your flustered state.

“y/n actually has a crush on our beloved eyekons.” the latina stepped up, you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. “she only has time for our fans, right?”

you grinned, grateful for her rushing to your rescue. “mhm.”

“dani’s helping her answer, it’s not fair!” megan whined.

“aye, no answer is an answer in itself, y’know what i mean?” megan mumbled, “keep your secrets then, y/n.”

daniela’s hand reached for yours under the table, fans zoomed in on the gesture the two of you tried keeping subtle. but of course, by now, you knew nothing escaped your fandom.

how much longer will #dann/n be subtle and secret?

𝒂𝒏; god gabriela era dani is doing sth to me. guys a bet fic is in the works trust the process. chat w me my inbox is open!!

𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒙𝒙

[soeyekonic]

— ✩♬ ₊˚. you get me so high ⭑ D.A

˚⟡˖⋆ synopsis during a livestream, dani plays it cool when a comment hints at something between you two, but later it’s clear things aren’t as simple as she lets on.

disclaimer daniela avanzini x 7th member!fem!reader, secret relationship (but there’s actually no relationship), closeted dani, slight angst

currently playing: you get me so high - the neighbourhood

it’s not a relationship, well, not officially. it’s not something either of you ever said out loud.

not when she kisses you in dressing rooms and pretends nothing happened two hours later. just reapplies her lip gloss in the mirror and smiles at the others like her mouth wasn’t just on yours.

not when you wake up with her legs tangled in yours, her head on your chest, and her voice sleepy and low as she mumbles, “this doesn’t count, right?” against your collarbone.

not when she lets you touch her like she belongs to you, but walks three feet ahead of you in the airport.

not when she tells you she thinks she’d fall apart without you, but won’t say a word if anyone else walks into the room.

but you know better.

you feel it. you feel it when her hand finds yours under the table, small and quiet like it means nothing, but her pinky always hooks with yours like it remembers the way your spine arches when she kisses you slow.

you feel it when she waits for everyone to fall asleep and then slips into your bed, curls into your side like it’s instinct.

you feel it when she watches you during rehearsals instead of the mirror.

you feel it when she smiles like she’s memorizing you, like it’s the last time. like she’s always afraid she’ll have to forget.

no one talks about it, but the others know.

manon figured it out first. of course she did. she watches everything. she caught the way daniela looks at you when she thinks no one’s paying attention. like she’s trying not to want something she already has.

lara picked up on it soon after. she doesn't say anything, but her eyes follow the way you shift when dani enters a room, how your shoulders ease when her laugh finds you.

you don’t bring it up. none of them do. you don’t want to ruin whatever it is that’s been building between you and dani. quiet. hidden. careful.

something sacred, maybe.

something no one else is supposed to see.

something that doesn’t survive daylight.

—

the livestream is meant to be fun. it's just the four of you tonight. manon, lara, daniela, and you. you’re on the hotel couch in sweats and oversized hoodies, bare-faced and glowing from the stage high.

the lights are warm. the mood is easy. a bowl of popcorn rests between crossed legs. dani’s thigh presses lightly against yours, like she doesn’t even realize it.

manon’s holding the phone. scrolling through comments. laughing. lara’s leaning into her side, chiming in with answers.

'who’s the messiest member?' “lara, 100%,” dani says immediately. lara shrugs like she can’t even deny it. “i contain multitudes.”

daniela leans into you a little more when she laughs, and you swear no one else notices the way her pinky curls around yours for just a second. it’s featherlight. subconscious. maybe. but it happens every time she’s near.

‘who’s the clingiest?’ manon reads. “oh, that’s you, dani.”

“shut up!” dani laughs, tossing a pillow at her. “i’m not clingy!”

"you literally follow her around like a puppy," lara says, tilting her chin toward you, her tone casual, like she’s talking about the weather.

daniela’s cheeks flush. rosy-pink. she glances at you, but doesn’t say anything. you try not to smile. try not to look too much like you want to press your mouth to her flushed skin.

and then, manon snorts, squinting at another comment. "wait, this one, ‘my favourite lesbians 🙏’"

you don’t even get the chance to smile. don’t get the chance to laugh it off or lean your head into dani’s shoulder like you want to.

daniela cuts in too fast. too sharp. “pause. pause, pause.”

she waves her hand, grinning like she’s playing around, like it’s lighthearted. "i’m straight."

silence.

it lands like a brick.

manon freezes mid-smile. lara’s shoulders stiffen. both of them glance between the two of you.

you can feel the blood drain from your face, but you don’t move. you blink too fast, like that’ll keep your eyes from shining. your throat dries up before you can even think of something to say.

daniela doesn’t look at you. not once.

she stays facing the camera, still wearing that half-smile like she didn’t just gut you with five small words. like she didn’t call your hands home last night.

you laugh, or something like it. a breath through your nose, short and fake. you don’t trust your voice. you don’t trust anything right now.

you shift just barely to the side. enough that your knees don’t touch anymore. you fold your hands in your lap so she can’t reach for them again.

you feel manon’s eyes on you. lara’s too.

they don’t say anything. but you can feel it, they know.

they all do.

but daniela keeps smiling for the camera like it never meant anything.

—

after the stream, you don’t speak. you get up first. slip away without a goodnight.

you go to your room and close the door. you press your forehead to it and breathe like you’re trying to hold the pieces of yourself together.

you don’t cry. you’re used to this. this game. this silence. this pretending it doesn’t hurt when she disappears the second someone’s watching.

twenty minutes later, there’s a knock.

soft. like she doesn’t want to be heard.

you open it just enough to see her standing there in her hoodie, sleeves covering her hands, eyes tired. guilty.

“you know i didn’t mean it like that,” she says quietly.

your heart clenches. “didn’t mean it, or didn’t mean to say it out loud?”

she flinches. your voice doesn’t even rise, but it hits like a slap.

“i panicked,” she whispers.

you stare at her. the girl who’s kissed you like you’re the only thing that makes her feel alive. the girl who touches your skin like she’s trying to stay on this earth. “you panicked and said that?”

her eyes drop to the floor. “i didn’t want it to become a thing. you know how people are.”

your voice sharpens. “yeah. i do.”

you pause and watch her. the hoodie sleeves. the hands fidgeting with the hem. the mouth that knows every inch of your neck, now too scared to even say your name.

she looks up finally. her eyes are soft. watery. she opens her mouth. closes it.

"you get me so high." her voice cracks. "no one else does that to me."

your heart stumbles. because you believe her.

you always believe her.

and maybe that’s the problem.

you close your eyes, grounding yourself. “you said you were straight.”

she breathes out slowly, like it hurts. “i have to be.”

you meet her eyes again. tired. aching. “no, you chose to be. right then. in front of everyone.”

the silence is louder than anything she could say.

you wait.

you wait for her to do something. reach out., pull you close, tell you she’s scared, but not enough to keep hurting you. tell you this means more.

but she doesn’t.

she never does.

and that’s what breaks you.

you shut the door. slow. soft. final.

you don’t cry. not yet. you just crawl into bed and stare up at the ceiling.

you try not to think about how many times she’s held you here. how many times she’s kissed your wrist and whispered things she never says with the lights on.

you try not to wonder if she’s still on the other side of the door, hands trembling, too afraid to love you where someone might see.

she gets you so high. but the fall,

the fall is always yours to survive alone.

a/n: ngl…i thought billie bossa nova or twenties would win…oh how i was wrong

[edamameimei]

losing my head (megan skiendiel x reader)

"baby, there will always be a space for you and me, right where you left it."

synopsis: the first words spoken to you by your soulmate is imprinted on your skin like a birthmark. people spend their entire lives trying to find their other half, keeping their ears open for those magical words. however, what do you do if your other half ignores destiny? what then? tags: angst, soulmate!au, idol!megan x collegestudent!reader an: this is not a REAL portrayal of the people mentioned in this fic. all events are fictional and are for entertainment purposes only. CW: swearing, alcohol + drug use (not graphic) wc: 9039

⏯ now playing: always - daniel caeser

“Are you… Are you breaking up with me?” The words you have been dreading come out of your mouth as a whisper. You stare at your girlfriend, your brows furrowed in disbelief. She stands in front of you with a tired look in her eyes, as if she has no fight left in her. The will to continue arguing about what has happened seems to have exhausted the other girl, but you, on the other hand, continued to stand your ground, eyes pleading as your lip trembled at the thought of the brunette slipping through your fingertips. 

You didn’t even consider this to be a possibility. She’s your soulmate– it’s literally written in destiny. The stars and planets aligned just at the right time, so that you can be in this space with her. 

And now, she wants to break up, despite what was already laid out for both of you. 

Megan takes a sharp breath and closes her eyes tightly, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes dart around your dorm room to avoid yours, and this frustrates you even more. You grip your arm tightly as you think about the words inscribed on it. You felt betrayed, not only by Megan but also by the universe itself. “You’re breaking up with me.” The finality in your words causes your voice to break. 

Your tears begin to stream down your cheeks as she slowly nods, still avoiding your eyes. “I just… Think it would be better for right now, you know?” 

But you don’t know. You don’t think you will ever know. 

You jump at the sound of Keeho slamming his hands down onto the table, leaning over it with his eyes wide after you give him the rundown of the events that occurred the night before. You lean back in your seat to look up at him, your heart beating loudly in your chest. “Are you fucking crazy?!” You hiss. Your eyes begin to dart around the library you’re both occupying in hopes you won’t find someone paying either one of you any attention.

He stands his ground, his eyes keeping the same amount of intensity (or insanity, whichever way you look at it). “I’m fucking crazy?! You just lost your soulmate! That’s fucking crazy!” You shush him quickly, getting up from your seat to grab his shoulders. You attempt to push him back into his chair, but he holds onto your arms, somehow getting the upper hand. “How are you not freaking out right now?!” His voice booms throughout the quiet library, and it makes you wince. 

You manage to push him back into his seat, and for a moment, you try catching your breath, still standing over the table. You look down at him and suddenly remember what you two were talking about in the first place. Your fists clench when it catches up to you, and your jaw tightens when the memory of losing Megan comes back at you with full force. Your heart twists painfully in your chest, and you want to scratch the words off of your arm, tear it easily off of your skin as if it were a band-aid. 

Suddenly, you fall back into your seat in defeat. “It just doesn’t feel real.” You quietly respond. Your shoulders slump, and you keep your eyes on your lap. 

Keeho stares at you and frowns, rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment over his theatrical reaction. “I’m sorry, Y/n…” He sighs deeply. When you don’t respond, he leans forward once more and places his elbows on the table. He whispers, “Did she say why? I mean… This is a lot.” You can’t help but let out a bitter laugh in response to his words. 

You pick your head up and give him a slight, strained smile. “She said we’re young. And we should experience being young before committing to anything…” 

He furrows his brows. “What? Dude, if I found my soulmate, I wouldn’t even bother with dating anymore.” He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Like, that’s it. That person is all I’ll ever need.” 

You shrug at his words and look away again, your eyes scanning the library silently, observing the other college students who occupy the space. “I think it’s because I’m…” You run your hand through your hair, trying to find the words to explain the thought that has been haunting your mind since you started noticing the changes in your relationship with Megan. “I don’t know… I think it’s because I’m, you know, me.” The last part comes out quietly, although loud enough to voice your insecurities. 

You attempt to avoid the conversation by staring at a group of students at one of the study tables. They loudly discuss one of their classes– you pick up on it being ‘Soulmate Theory 110.’ A required class for all students in the college. You took it freshman year, and you wish you had paid more attention, especially now. 

“What do you mean? You’re a catch, friend.” He tells you with a bewildered look in his eyes. His words cause you to let out a chuckle, shaking your head at his attempt at being lighthearted. You turn away from the group of students to look at Keeho with a slight smile tugging at your lips. 

“She’s a literal popstar. She’s probably in the studio right now while I’m sitting here with you.” You emphasize the last part, enjoying the way he rolls his eyes at your implications. 

Keeho huffs and keeps his arms crossed. He looks at you worriedly as he replies, “Do you… I mean, is there a chance for her to come back? I mean, it’s not like she has any other choice, right?” You bite your lip as you think about his question. Your eyes find your arm again, and a bit of hope resonates throughout your body.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” 

‘You looked lonely over here.” 

You always found the inscription to be somewhat ironic. 

Before meeting Megan, you had always wondered what the situation would be like. You used to stay up past your bedtime when you were younger, fantasizing about the interaction you would have with your soulmate for the very first time. You used to practice how you would reply, taking guesses at what your own first words would be. The concept of soulmates has always fascinated you. The idea of someone being curated just for you seemed like a dream, and you found yourself always hopeless. 

When you do finally meet Megan, it is the farthest thing from magical. 

You were admittedly high out of your mind and sat outside the porch of someone’s house that you couldn’t for the life of you remember. You knew they were the host, and you knew it was one of Keeho’s famous influencer friends that he managed to make during his internship last summer with a big music company in Los Angeles. The moment you were told there would be a little weed and a little booze, it would have taken more to convince you not to go than not. 

However, after having more than a little weed and no booze at all, you begin to regret your life choices as you sit slumped on one of the patio chairs, staring up at the sky and creating your own constellations out of the stars that sit above you. 

Suddenly, the sliding door opened, but the obnoxious squeak it made still didn’t stir you from your current, mindless task. You continued to sit there, unmoving, not even noticing the intruder coming to sit next to you on the patio. 

After a few minutes of silence, the intruder cleared their throat. Her voice was so quiet that it didn’t quite register in your head what she said. “You looked lonely over here.” 

You turned your head toward the unfamiliar girl, your eyes hooded as if the lights were on, but no one was home. You squinted at her, whispering back, “Who do I look like?” 

Her eyes widened. You noticed how she suddenly froze, unable to respond to your question. You tried to rewind the interaction in your head, figuring out what could have been the source of her sudden shift in demeanor. Then suddenly, it registered. 

Her first words to you. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and felt your body becoming hot with slight embarrassment over missing what had just happened. You whispered again, “Wait– What did you say?” 

She bit her lip, tucking a strand of her ginger hair behind her ear shyly. The girl in front of you lets out a nervous giggle– a sound that makes your heart flutter in your chest. She looked down at her arm and smiled. “I said, “You looked lonely over here.”” She then extends her arm out to you, displaying the words inscribed into her arm. You read every word, memorized every letter and syllable that stood out to you like it was code only you and her could decipher together. 

“Wait, I said that?” Is how you chose to respond. You look up at her, your cheeks red and a sheepish smile on your face. The sight of you made the girl, your soulmate, laugh loudly. She smiles widely through her laughter, and you can’t help but join her. It felt ridiculous. You pictured this moment for so long, just for it to be messy, nothing short of a disaster. 

But as you take another glance at her, seeing her whiskered dimples in her cheeks, you knew the moment was perfect in its own right. 

When her laughter subsides, she continues grinning and scoots her chair closer to you. “It’s you.” She whispered as if declaring to the universe that they’d done their job. She looks at you, her eyes brown and gentle, providing you with a warmth that only a soulmate could provide. 

You whispered back, “It’s me.” 

It’s been a month since Megan broke up with you, and all the videos you’ve been seeing of her on different social media outlets have made you almost deactivate every single one of your accounts. 

In all of them, she looked so happy, so carefree. There was one of her recently at WeHo Pride that made you stare for far too long. But then, you remembered you were no longer together, and you ended up throwing your phone across the room. 

Now, with no more Megan and $800 down the drain, you feel rather discouraged. 

You trudge to class tiredly after pulling another all-nighter. To avoid thinking about your ex, you’ve had your nose buried in textbook after textbook, completing assignments quickly as they come. You never had an interest in the inevitable economic collapse in the United States. Still, you’re confident that if you were given an exam right now, you’d ace it in ten minutes flat. Your coping mechanism could have been worse– Honestly, you could have tried a Schedule 2 drug at this point just to feel something again. 

But hard drugs have always scared you, and you’ve always been too afraid to try new things. 

There’s an ache in your back as you step inside the classroom, letting your legs guide you to the seat you claimed earlier in the quarter. However, you stop in your tracks when you see a girl you haven’t seen before sitting there. You notice how she has already unpacked all of her belongings, ready for the lecture that awaits. A migraine begins to settle inside your head as you take a sharp breath, opting to take an open seat in the back of the room instead of fighting a new battle. You drop your stuff onto the ground and plop into the seat, immediately letting your head fall onto the unfamiliar desk with a thud. 

The words on your arm burn with every image of Megan that flashes through your mind. 

You lay on Chaewon’s floor, your eyes focused on her ceiling fan as you air out the one and only grievance you’ve had on your mind all day. 

“Someone stole my fucking seat in class today.” You suddenly blurt out. Chaewon hums in acknowledgment, letting you know she is listening but doesn’t want to turn around to pay you attention. You turn your head toward Keeho, who sits criss-crossed on Chaewon’s bed, hugging one of her Squishmallows in his lap. 

He raises an eyebrow at you, a slight smile tugging at his lips over your dramatics. “Is it assigned seating?” He snickers, resting his chin on top of the Squishmallows’ head.

You sigh, shaking your head. “No… But it’s like. University 101 Etiquette. The seat you picked at the beginning of the semester is your seat forever.” You’re aware you’re whining, but after everything you’ve already lost, to lose something else feels like a low blow. 

Chaewon looks at you through the vanity mirror that she sits at, pausing her makeup routine just to give you a look of disbelief. “Did you… Tell her that was your seat?” You turn your head toward the girl and pout. Before you can respond, Chaewon looks away from you and continues curling her lashes. “So, you didn’t. Therefore, that is the consequence of your own actions.” 

You groan, rubbing your face with your hands. “Chae, stop being mean, I’m sensitive right now.” Your words are slightly muffled, but it doesn’t stop the smirk that spreads across Keeho’s lips. 

“Exactly. You have bigger problems than some random girl stealing your seat.” He claims, shaking his head at the way you continue to pout. 

Under your breath, you murmur, “Seat snatcher,” as you prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at Keeho, who continues staring at you with amusement. Your eyes fall onto his arm, and you raise an eyebrow. “What does your arm say again?” He lights up at your question, extending his arm out for you to see the words more clearly. 

“That was really brave of you.” 

Chaewon snorts, which grabs your attention, snapping your head toward the girl who has moved onto the lip part of her routine. Keeho tilts his head at the brunette. “Now, why are you laughing?” He asks, even though he knows the answer. Chaewon caps her lipstick and finally turns around in her seat to look at you and the boy. 

She smiles softly before replying, “All your soulmate is asking for is for you to stop being a pussy all the time.” The moment the words leave her mouth, Keeho starts to defend himself, making excuses for the reason as to why he hasn’t met his person. Chaewon engages in this argument more so to continue rage-baiting the poor boy. As they bicker, you observe the characters on Chaewon’s arm. 

It’s in Korean. In English, it’s, “Is this seat taken?” You found hers to be so beautiful. The concept of soulmates being able to transcend a language barrier despite the existence of thousands. The fact that there are people out there who learn an entire language just to communicate with the love of their life, just to understand them, fills you with an adoration toward humanity. It makes you believe, for a brief moment, that love really is enough. 

As the bickering between Chaewon and Keeho begins to subside, her eyes wander over to you, widening when she realizes you’ve been crying. She gets up from her seat and quickly walks over to you. “Y/n? What the hell?” Chaewon kneels and pulls you into a tight hug, allowing you to cry in her arms. 

Keeho jumps off the bed and kneels on the floor beside you. “Y/n… It’s okay…” He whispers gently, placing a comforting hand on your back. You don’t know how it happened or what caused you to break down suddenly, but at some point, it just became too difficult for you to hide. 

“I don’t– I don’t get it.” You manage to say through your broken sobs. Your head falls against Chaewon’s chest, and you try desperately to control your breathing, but it’s as if the walls have finally closed in on you. It’s been a month since Megan broke up with you, but it also means you would have spent seven months together. It would have been seven months since finding her, and in theory, it should have been an infinite amount more. 

It’s what the fairy tales talked about. All the stories passed down from one generation to the next taught you. You’re born as half of a whole, and one day, you’ll find that other half. Their first words to you are engraved on your skin like a promise. It’s what the prophets call destiny– the poets call it a human’s life purpose. 

But there isn’t a crash course for what to do when your other half ignores the universe. 

Unfortunately, an instruction manual isn’t available to your disposal to get through this.

Megan loved you loudly. She loved you so much that you believed it would be difficult for her to do otherwise. 

When it came to her being a rising global popstar sensation, (the group’s words, not yours. An inside joke, they told you through a fit of laughter), it was only natural that her schedule would be all over the place. 

But she made the time to be with you. Against all odds, she somehow managed to attach herself to your hip even on her busiest days. Megan loving you meant taking you on drives to her secret places, the windows down with your shared playlist blasting through the speakers. It meant even though Geffen told her to keep your relationship on the down low, she still wore the matching necklaces you bought together. She’d wear the bracelet you got her in public; the photos taken with fans would have her displaying it proudly. Instagram posts would have you in the background, or you were her photographer for the day. 

Megan’s love for you was vivid. It was better than anything else you could have conjured up in your head. 

But then, without warning, the love felt quieter. Inside jokes would go unheard, tired eyes not meeting yours across the table, her hands not reaching for you even if you were only inches apart. It went from never having time in a day to never having it during an entire week. It was an unwelcomed change, but you told yourself not to worry so much. It was her first comeback with you, and you knew the work it required would be overbearing. 

However, when Gnarly finally dropped and its promotions began, the love felt almost silent. It became dead air, especially when she was in Korea. 

In her past travels, Megan loved to send you update after update. She would tell you everything on her mind, both before and after the chaos, like clockwork. Megan often told you stories about what might have happened before an interview or performance, even telling you her coffee order from that morning, even if it’s the same every single time. 

But this time, she didn’t respond as much, and when she did, her texts were short and to the point. The regular FaceTime calls after her performances never came, and the one time she finally reached out, it was a five-minute conversation about your classes until she had to leave again.

You rationalized it was the time difference. Maybe her service was spotty, and she couldn’t call and text as much as she would’ve liked. 

Then she came back, though. And nothing felt the same. 

Your breaking point was a photo of her at a bar with a couple of her friends from Dream Academy and other influencers in the area. It circulated all over the internet, and for the first time since being with Megan, you felt jealous. An ugly feeling that crawled up your throat with its claws dug deep into your skin. You try to avoid this feeling at all costs. It felt stupid, why feel jealous when she’s your soulmate?

But she told you she was staying home that night. You were supposed to meet for dinner, but she changed plans at the last minute. 

And then you found out through Twitter where she actually was.

This discovery led to that night in your dorm. It began as a quiet discussion that quickly turned into an argument. It was a blur as if you were looking at her through red-stained glass, cracking at every word that was said. 

“I can’t do this anymore!” She shouted. “I wasn’t even ready to meet you this early!” 

Then it shattered. 

The sun was rising at this point. Its light spilled onto the floor to tell you it’s a brand new day. How unkind for the world to continue its existence when a part of you left without another word. Not even a whisper to fill the silence that followed after. 

Now, Megan lives her life loudly. It’s a life that you can’t be a part of, and you wonder, if you weren’t some random person she met at a party, if things would go differently. Maybe, if you had something to your name, loving you would be worth the schedules. There would be no need to hide from the public eye because you would be a somebody. 

You sit at your desk in class, writing notes as if your life depended on it. Because it’s a brand new day. You write the date at the top of your paper. 

Two months. You wonder how you would have spent eight months together. 

And then after three months without contact, Megan texts you out of the blue. 

After your mental breakdown in Chaewon’s room, you knew it would be in your best interest to at least try moving forward in your life despite the curveball Megan decided to throw in your direction. It wasn’t easy, but you’ve been making more of an effort to take care of yourself. The conversations you’ve been having with your friends have become less about what has happened and more about what will happen, such as plans for dinner, plans for going out, and so forth. 

Three months have gone by, and you’re starting to feel like a human again. 

The moment Megan’s name lights up across your phone, you feel a lump form in your throat. The feelings you’ve tried so hard to bury beneath your feet slowly start to resurface as you begin to hypothesize what the girl could possibly want at 2 in the morning. Your phone shakes in your hands as you unlock it, revealing the contents of the message. 

Megan: Hey, have you been okay? 

You bite your lip, your fingers ghosting over the keyboard as you think about your response. Begging for her to come back didn’t feel like an option, so you opted for honesty.

You: I’ve been getting better 

You: You? 

You wait. The homework you were working on becomes ignored as you stare at your phone. A picture of you and Megan sits on your desk, and it stares at you until you fall asleep. You waited until 6 AM, until the drowsiness that consumed you finally took over. 

When you wake up, it’s 11 AM. You don’t even notice the fact that you missed your 9:30 AM class because the only thing you see when you check your phone is the three new messages from Megan. You check them embarrassingly fast, getting your passcode wrong again and again as your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 

Megan: I’m good. 

Megan: I’m glad to hear you’ve been getting better. 

Megan: Just wanted to check in. I’ll talk to you soon. 

You raise your hand, ready to chuck your phone again across the room. But you manage to stop yourself, placing it face-first onto your desk. You look at the picture of you and Megan. She still had her ginger hair, and she still loved you unconditionally, without a weight on her shoulders. 

Unfortunately, you don’t have another $800 to drop, and you still don’t have Megan in your life. 

So, you store the photo in the bottom drawer of your dresser. It’s better to have it haunt you when you need a new pair of socks. 

“Have you talked to the rest of the group?” Chaewon asks during lunch one day. After the brief interaction you had with Megan two nights ago, you called your friends for an emergency pick-me-up (unfortunately, the meeting had to be postponed to today because, college has been kicking your ass). 

You continue gnawing at your straw absentmindedly, your brain not registering the question she presented to you. Chaewon notices this and snaps her fingers in your face, causing you to jump away from your drink. You place it back down onto the table sheepishly before responding, “Sorry, what?” 

Keeho snorts beside you, eyeing you both as he continues eating his fries. Chaewon just sighs and shakes her head. “I asked if you talked to any of the other girls.” 

You nod, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “Right. um… Lara reaches out here and there, the other girls, though, not so much.” You tap your chin, trying to remember if anyone else has spoken to you since your breakup, and then your eyes light up. “Wait! Yoonchae sometimes sends me game invites…” 

Keeho laughs at this, covering his mouth due to the amount of food he stuffed in his face. “That checks out,” he says, although a bit muffled. 

Chaewon gives the boy a disgusted look before looking back at you with a nod. “What do you and Lara talk about?” She steals one of Keeho’s fries as she speaks, popping it into her mouth with a smirk. Keeho rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest with a huff. 

“Just about how I’m doing and stuff… Nothing that crazy.” You place your elbow on the table and rest your chin against the palm of your hand. “Sometimes she’ll tell me about how Megan is doing.” 

Keeho raises his eyebrow and pops another fry in his mouth. “And how is Megan?” 

You bite your lip, your eyes finding the table more interesting to look at. “She’s good.” You say flatly. A silence follows your words, and you want to make another comment that’s more lighthearted, wishing to avoid any really serious conversations about the situation. But you keep your mouth shut. Knowing your friends, they’ll see right through your actions and make it harder for you to hide behind your facade. 

“Have you thought about, you know, dating casually?” Keeho suddenly asks. You turn toward him with narrowed eyes, and he raises his hands in defense. 

Chaewon looks at him incredulously and leans over the table to swat at his arm. “Not everyone can be like you and just date whoever we want. Some of us get attached too easily…” She sits back in her seat, looking away from him with flushed cheeks. You glance at the girl and frown, remembering Chaewon’s last attempt at casual dating. It ended with you both having to take the girl back home and rub her back as she hunched over a toilet, sobbing her eyes out. 

You shiver at the memory. Not just at what occurred, but the person who broke her heart. She’s at the top of your hit list. 

“Okay, I get it. But it might help a little. Get some of that frustration out, you know?” It’s your turn to swat Keeho’s shoulder, and he winces, rubbing the area that will most likely bruise later. You slump down in your seat, the thought of Megan seeing other people making your brain go into overdrive. For it to be a possibility never registered in your head, but then people like Keeho exist. 

The people who won’t wait until they find their person. The people who will love until the one comes in and sweeps them off their feet. 

You glance at Keeho with pursed lips. You steal one of his fries before replying, “Maybe I’m just not as brave as you.” 

The end of the semester is close to its end, and the reminder makes you grimace. The passage of time has always bothered you, and you hate that you’re now keeping track of it through the number of months it has been since Megan left. 

It’s been four if anyone is wondering. 

The task for today’s class is to complete a packet full of the things that you’ve learned throughout the semester. It’s a review of the material, most likely to help students in the class prepare for the final exam. Usually, you’re nervous about exams. But with how hard you’ve been working this semester (against your will, you want to add), it doesn’t seem all that bad. Your professor allowed the class to work either in groups or alone, and as you look around the room, you figure it would be easier to let this be a solo assignment. 

As you’re filling your name out at the top of the paper, you notice someone’s presence towering over you. You can’t help the sigh that escapes your lips at the intrusion, but you still pick your head up, recognizing the person in front of you to be the seat snatcher. 

You came to learn her actual name is Huh Yunjin. But seat snatcher is fitting. 

You can’t help the way you squint at the redhead, feeling a slight irritation at the way she smiles at you. “Yes?” You ask, looking back down at your paper, so you could force yourself to stop glaring daggers at the seat snatcher. 

Your eyes begin to skim through the questions, not even bothering to look up at the sound of her voice. “You looked lonely over here.” 

You freeze. The words knock the wind out of you, and you wonder if you heard her right. You snap your head up to meet her eyes once more, and she continues to look at you softly, tilting her head as if intrigued by your reaction. “Are you–?”

“What words are on your arm?” You cut her off, furrowing your brows in slight confusion. You can’t even remember what you said to her previously; you were too petty to give her a chance at redemption. 

Your question causes her to widen her eyes, and you watch as she tugs at the sleeve of her sweater as if anxious to show you what could be the answers to an unsolved equation. The reaction makes you frown at the realization that you might have been a bit harsh with Yunjin. If you were being honest, you would much rather have her still be considered a seat snatcher than a soulmate; It wouldn’t make sense for the latter. 

You found your soulmate already. This would be impossible. 

The grip on her sleeve tightens, and your eyes flicker from her face to her arm multiple times before deciding to take matters into your own hands. You quickly push yourself away from your desk, clumsily pulling the hoodie you wear off your body. The hoodie falls onto the floor as you extend your arm toward Yunjin. She looks down, grabbing your wrist gently to get a closer look. The small physical contact makes you blush slightly, but you ignore it, keeping close attention to the Korean girl’s reaction. 

The way she covers her mouth with her hand worries you. No, no, no, you think. This can’t be happening.  

When she lets go of your wrist, she finally decides to show you what’s been written on her arm. She slowly pulls her sleeve up her arm, and for a moment, you’re confused. You see nothing on her arm.

That is, until you do. 

Unlike others you’ve seen, Yunjin only had one word, three letters, and a question mark. 

“Holy shit,” You breathe out. 

Megan is cozy sweaters, a vanilla scented candle lit during a thunderstorm, with the fairy lights turned on to illuminate the darkness. She’s jumping in puddles, running through the rain with a wide smile on her face because life is too short to allow the rain ruin a date. She’s pinky promises, practicing a handshake until it’s perfect, and lips pressed against the back of your hand as if to tell you, “I’m here.” 

You remember one night in your dorm, your backs against your headboard, shoulders touching as you both watched a movie on your laptop. She had her head resting on your shoulder and held your hand, tracing letters into your hand with her thumb that seemed to spell out the words on your arm. 

Megan also loved you softly. She loved you so warmly that it always felt like Spring when you were around her. You often took subtle glances at your girlfriend, loving the way the brightness of the screen lit up her face. She would crinkle her nose at the funny scenes, cuddling into your side impossibly closer. 

“I love you,” She says suddenly in one single breath. Your eyes widen, your head snapping toward your girlfriend. Surprisingly, it’s the first time you’ve heard those words come out of her mouth, and although you knew it was inevitable, it still makes your heart stutter in your chest. 

She turns to look at you, a shy smile on her face with a bright twinkle in her eyes. “I love you.” She says again, this time a little louder, more confident. 

Megan is the plane finally landing in the last destination, the knock on the door, being home at last. 

“I love you, too.” You whisper. It lingers in the space you both occupy, with the universe dancing in celebration above your heads. 

“You’re nervous,” Yunjin says, observing your tightly clasped hands on the table as she takes a sip of her Matcha. She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiles a bit shyly. “I get that.” 

A chuckle escapes your lips. You feel a bit sheepish, but you promised Keeho and Chaewon that you’d try. “Yeah… I don’t know. I just feel kind of weird, I guess.” Yunjin sets her cup down onto the table and nods, looking back at you with a tilt of her head. You notice a twinkle in her eyes as if she’s daydreaming about what this would mean moving forward. 

Yunjin places her elbows on the table and leans forward, resting her chin in her palms. She keeps her head tilted as she replies, “Why weird?” You bite your lip to try and hide the smile that wants to form. For some reason, it feels disloyal to Megan to meet another girl like this. Even if this is what she wanted, for you, it feels different. 

Huh Yunjin could be your real soulmate. The way she looks at you reminds you of that night you met Megan. 

The memory makes you dig your nails into the back of your hands. Your eyes narrow slightly, and Yunjin notices, reaching out to place her hand on top of yours. You almost slip your hands away on instinct, but her touch doesn’t burn like you thought it would. You bite your lip and stare at your hands, silently pleading with your heart to stop beating so fast. 

Yunjin squeezes your clasped hands gently, rubbing her thumb against the crescent-shaped scars that will soon form on your skin. “You can be honest, I’m a good listener…” She pauses suddenly, letting out a shaky laugh. “Well. My friends tell me I’m a yapper, but I can also be a really good listener, honest!” 

You laugh at her words– a genuine, loud laugh. For the first time since your breakup with Megan, it feels a bit easier to breathe. You shake your head and look up at Yunjin, your expression turning serious. “Can I be real?” You ask shakily. Yunjin nods quickly, squeezing your hands again. 

You nod and take a deep breath. Your throat feels tight as you force the words to leave your lips, “I already met… My soulmate.” 

Yunjin widens her eyes in surprise. You feel her remove the hand that sat on top of yours, but you quickly react, grabbing onto it before she can take it back completely. You furrow your brows at her before looking down at her arm, carefully turning it to reveal the “Yes?” on her forearm. The sight of it makes your breath hitch as if it hits you all over again. “But. She broke up with me… And now I’m just really confused.” You tilt your head, keeping your eyes on the birthmark. Tears spring to your eyes as you continue, “And now I’m even more confused because, how am I going through this the second time?” 

The grip on Yunjin’s hand tightens– not painfully, but tight enough to make sure that she’s real. You tear your gaze away from her arm to look at her face. She looks at you tentatively, her complete and undivided attention on you. You look at each other in silence, unsure of what to say next. You can’t help but feel bad for the redhead, knowing she came into this expecting a happily ever after. But as fate would have it, of course, it wouldn’t be that simple. 

It’s such a shame they would do this to someone who seemed as sweet as Yunjin. Even if she did steal your seat at the beginning of the semester, you’re here now, supposedly soulmates. 

Yunjin then holds onto your hand, her grip loose yet firm at the same time. The twinkle in her eyes comes back as she looks at you and says, “We can figure it out together, then.” 

Her warm tone ignites something in you. You stare at Yunjin, her brown eyes containing a safe space for you to jump into. It’s right there in front of you, and there’s nothing that could stop you from making that leap. 

It’s been four months without Megan. But you continue holding Yunjin’s hand and nod. 

Without even realizing it, you start to familiarize yourself with the freckles on her cheeks. The small mole on her nose.

Maybe there’s an entire universe in her eyes, waiting patiently to be discovered.

When you arrive at the party with Keeho, you don’t know what to expect. 

Keeho told you that Megan would be here, and that was enough for you to pull away from the conversation, not wanting to put yourself through more emotional trauma. It was already enough to lose your soulmate once, but then finding someone else who could actually be the one has sent you down a deep, never-ending spiral. Nonetheless, you decided to man up last minute, throwing together an outfit for the occasion and texting Keeho to come pick you up, now. 

But now, you are back in the house where you first met Megan, and you can’t help but regret your decisions all over again. 

Keeho notices the sullen look in your eyes and pats you on the back, smiling reassuringly. “I’ll stick by you all night, don’t worry. I’ll fight her, if anything.” 

That gets a laugh out of you. You look at your friend with amusement in your eyes. “Please don’t fight my ex.” 

“She might not even be your soulmate, so I think I have every right to do it,” He scoffs, and the reminder causes you to wince. Even if he is right, it still hurts to think about. 

As you continue navigating the party with Keeho by your side, you feel it becoming easier to feel looser. Albeit it’s definitely due to the alcohol you’ve been consuming, you start to feel lighter, maybe even a little happier. At some point, you found yourself in a conversation with Keeho and one of his friends from his internship. You listen tentatively to one of their stories from the summer time, an amused gleam in your eyes as you take another sip from your cup. 

And then, ‘Gnarly’ begins to play loudly over the speakers.

You down your drink completely before looking at Keeho, who is already giving you a knowing look. Your lips form a straight line when you hear familiar laughter coming from behind you. It’s a mixture of Megan’s laugh along with her other members’. They must have decided to take their escapades to the dance floor, which makes sense— it’s their song, for god’s sake. 

You know you should move somewhere else. For your sanity, it’s a good decision. But sometimes when you drink, you don’t usually pick what’s best for you. 

So, that’s why you turn around instead. The urge to see Megan again in real life consumes you. It’s been a very long six months without her, and even if you’re only able to catch a glimpse of your ex, you’d like to think it would be enough. 

You watch as she dances with her friends. Unashamed, so full of life. The sight of her happy and well brings a bittersweet smile to your face. For months, you had been wanting a sign that she missed you. You’d look closely at her pictures on Instagram, the photos posted by fans, just to see if she wears the bracelet you gave her. Maybe the matching necklace.

But it’s nowhere to be found, most likely collecting dust in her jewelry box. 

You continue to stare at Megan, getting lost in a sea of memories inside your head. It plays like a montage: Megan pulling you onto the dance floor, Megan picking random flowers and sticking them behind your ear, Megan stealing your hoodies, Megan looking at you as if you were everything she ever needed in this world. 

You blink a few times, the tears in your eyes threatening to fall as the tape in your head continues to roll back. You feel Keeho place a hand on your shoulder, but you stay where you are, eyes locked on Megan.

But then, she spots you across the room, and your breath hitches. 

You lie with Megan on the couch, her back against you as she plays a round of Mario Kart with Yoonchae and Sophia. Your girlfriend has a competitive spirit that you’ve always found amusing, especially with the other girls. You watch her take first place, and you take it as an opportunity to poke her sides, jabbing your fingers into the spots you know are her most ticklish. 

She squeals loudly and tries to jump away from your touch. However, you wrap your arms around Megan, pulling her back against you. “Y/n! Look! Now I’m in 6th place, what the fuck!” Yoonchae giggles at Megan’s reaction, and Sophia only shakes her head, keeping her focus on the screen. 

Lara watches you two in amusement from the loveseat. Megan continues to try to wriggle out of your arms, but it’s no use; you intend to never let the girl go, no matter what. 

“You guys are so lucky, you know?” The Indian girl sighs dreamily, her eyes returning to the TV as the game continues. “You met each other so young… Like, I don’t think my parents met until their late 20s.” 

Daniela sits on the floor in front of Lara and looks up at her, nodding frantically, popping a chip into her mouth. “Mine too!” She says behind her hand as she chews. The Latina looks at you and Megan with a gleam in her eyes. “And it happened so like… what’s the word?” 

Lara chimes in, taking a glance at Daniela before looking back at the TV. “Organically?” 

“Yeah! That one.” Daniela confirms, looking at the TV just in time to see Sophia get hit with a blue shell, allowing Yoonchae to take first place. The Latina laughs loudly when Sophia lets out an aggravated groan. 

Manon snatches a chip from the bowl on Daniela’s lap and quickly puts it in her mouth before the girl can notice. She turns her head to you and Megan to make it seem like nothing happened. “I can’t wait to meet my soulmate. We’re gonna be just as disgusting as you guys.” She says while she’s chewing. 

Daniels scoffs and looks at Manon with a raised brow. “I can’t even imagine how your love story is gonna go,” She points at Manon’s arm and lets out a giggle. “No offense, but can you guys keep it down?” Like, excuse me?” 

“And they probably said what they had to say!” Manon exclaims, rolling her eyes playfully at her best friend. The exchanges between everyone make you smile, happy that they’ve welcomed you into their tight-knit family. 

You lean forward and press a quick kiss to Megan’s cheek. “We feel really lucky.” You announce, resting your chin on her shoulder as you continue watching the round. 

But what you don’t notice is the uncertainty in Megan’s eyes. The smile on her face doesn’t reach her eyes. You comment that Megan is now in last place, but unbeknownst to you, she sits deep in thought over the words of her members. She can’t help but wonder if there’s more to life than what she shares with you.

It feels like one of those movies. The ones where the main character meets eyes with their love interest, and in that moment, they just know, it was always meant to be. The love interest was always right there in front of them, this entire time. 

You continue looking at each other, eyes locked in a staring contest. It’s as if you both wait to see who would look away first, who would give up. 

Surprisingly, you tear your gaze away before she does, walking with Keeho to another part of the house. You don’t look back as you follow him toward the kitchen. A part of you screams to look, to check if she’s still there with her eyes on you. The feeling reminds you of a story you read in your Mythology class. 

“To love someone is to look back, despite the risk.” 

You excuse yourself from Keeho as you step inside the kitchen, telling him you needed a breath of fresh air. 

Your legs guide you outside to the back patio. The breeze kisses your skin as you close the sliding door, and a slight chuckle escapes your lips as you remember the last time you were out here. It was warmer, and you had nothing to lose. 

You sit in the patio chair, and a sense of déjà vu overcomes you as you stare up at the sky. There aren’t as many stars as last time, and you allow them to be as they are. 

Suddenly, the sliding door opens, the obnoxious squeak snapping you out of your daze. You turn around and see Megan standing there, a sheepish smile on her lips. Your throat tightens at the words that come out of her mouth: “You looked lonely over here.” 

You turn away, your cheeks flush as you hear her walk closer to you. She sits in the chair next to you, and you clasp your hands together tightly in your lap as you avoid her eyes on you. 

She speaks up again, her tone lighthearted. “You look like you’ve been doing okay. Is school still beating you to death?” Megan laughs through her words, but you only force a smile in response, your eyes still in your lap. You’re unsure on what to say, on how to feel. It has always been easy with Megan, but after your discovery two months ago, you aren’t entirely sure how to move forward with your ex. 

From the corner of your eyes, you notice how she looks down at her drink and swirls the liquid in the cup around. “Our comeback has been so crazy! But, we’ve been getting so much love for it and I’ve been so-” 

“I met someone,” You suddenly blurt out, picking your head up to look at her, finally. Megan looks up at you, her brown eyes wide at the sudden interruption. She opens her mouth but closes it, her lips forming a thin line. You watch as she puts her empty cup down on the side table next to her, and you notice how her hand shakes. 

When she looks back at you, she smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s fake and deceiving, unlike all the videos that have been trending all over social media that portray her happiness. The pictures you’ve seen of her have her smiling, laughing, and, most importantly, enjoying her life. 

That’s what she wanted, to be free. To live in her 20s without a weight on her shoulders. 

And against your wishes, you allowed it. It’s because you love her. It’s because, despite everything, there was a chance she’d come back. 

Megan clears her throat and leans against the chair. “That’s good. I mean, Emily was telling me how it’s actually really healthy to date other people for a little bit before meeting your soulmate– I mean, I know we met, but I just think we’re so young and we have the rest of our lives to–”

“Megan.” You cut her off again, avoiding her eyes. You sigh deeply, looking up at the stars again, silently begging them for a sign. “I met someone and she… The first words she ever said to me are the ones on my arm…” You say quietly, turning your head to look at your ex. 

A flash of hurt crosses her eyes. Her bottom lip trembles as she replies, “That’s not possible, Y/n.” 

But you ignore her claim, continuing, “And my first word to her is on her arm.” You watch as the brunette crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes at you. 

“I don’t believe you.” She breathes out, a shakiness in her voice. Your heart breaks at the way she looks at you. The vulnerability in her eyes was exposed, despite her attempts to guard herself. She shakes her head and scoffs. “If you’re fucking with me right now, I’ll seriously lose my shit.” 

There’s bite to her words, but there’s not enough fight in you to feed it. You just look down at your hands with a bitter smile. “Why would I lie, Megan?” You bite your lip before sighing in defeat. “I don’t have a reason to.” 

Megan suddenly stands to her feet. The action surprises you, causing you to look up at the girl. She looks at you with tears in her eyes, brows furrowed in disbelief. “But we’re soulmates. We already figured that out!” She shouts, the volume of her voice making you jump in your seat. 

You stand up as well, driven by your emotions. “But what if we were wrong? What if it actually isn’t us?” You say breathlessly. Megan shakes her head frantically and grabs your arms. Her grip is especially tight on the arm that contains the words that supposedly belonged to her. She looks up at you, her eyes shining under the moonlight. 

Megan’s lip trembles as she speaks, “No, no. Don’t say that…” She reaches up, cupping your cheek with her hand. Her thumb grazes your skin gently as if she were familiarizing herself with the feeling against her fingertips. “Don’t say that. It’s not true…” 

You place your hand on top of hers and squeeze it gently, leaning into her touch. You look at her with surrender in your eyes, silently telling her that you’ve given up. Slowly, you remove her hand from your face, and you notice the panic starting to settle in her expression. “Megan…” You whisper but she doesn’t let you finish. 

“Fuck what I said a few months ago, okay?” She pleads, her hands waving around wildly before grabbing her hair in frustration. “Fuck everything I said. I don’t care about any of that shit, I don’t. I–” She chokes on her words, tears streaming down her face as she looks at you in desperation. “It’s you. Okay? It’s always going to be you, and I know it is.” 

You turn your head away from Megan and take a step back, not wanting to continue listening to her words. However, she reaches up again and cups your cheeks, turning your head back toward her. You want to cry, but there’s no more tears to shed. You’ve fought this battle for six months.

And then it dawns on you. Six months. 

“I want to be with you. Now and forever, okay? It’s us…” Megan whispers, her voice breaking as she rests her head against your chest. Her hands move down to your arms, and you feel her fingertips trace the letters on your skin. 

You wrap your arms around Megan, pulling her closer. Your chin rests on top of her head as you whisper, “It would’ve been a year together by now.” 

You wonder if the universe is listening. You wonder if they planned this all along. 

“I love you, Y/n,” She whispers into your chest. Megan holds you tightly, and you can feel her tears staining through your shirt. She holds you as if you’d disappear, as if this would be the last time she’d ever be able to. “I love you so much. I know it’s you.” She pulls away slightly to look at you.

You wonder if there’s a life where you don’t have to miss Megan. Maybe somewhere, you don’t have to wrap your arms around a memory you called home. 

“I’m glad you get to live your life.” You tilt your head, a strained smile on your lips as you look back at her. There’s a warmth in her eyes. A glimmer of hope. 

But as the planets align, as the stars watch your every move, and as your birthmark continues to burn on your skin, there’s one thing you do know: Love is enough. 

“Continue doing it, without me, okay?” 

And if it’s meant to be, Megan would still be at the airport, waiting for you to come home.

a/n: before yall ask, yes there will be a pt. 2! it wont come quickly but do not fear, i wont let yall think it ends like this. or does it? >:) lmk what u guys think!!!! i hope yall arent too mad or upset

requests are closed

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 FEMININOMENON daniela avanzini x reader

↳warnings: 7th member reader, boys…, swearing, fluff, daniela is down bad

the cool night air mirrored the emotions swirling inside daniela as she crossed her arms over her chest, letting out a quiet sigh.

how did she fall for it again?

every time, a guy boosts her ego, filling her head with how cool she is how they watched the show on netflix, how much they admire her and next thing she knows, he’s off flirting with one of her members.

this time was even worse. he took her out, and for a moment, it felt amazing a nice restaurant, good food, everything just right. but then the bill came, and he just sat there, expecting her to pay. and the worst part? she did.

as if that wasn’t humiliating enough, the night ended with a group of his friends pulling up to take him out somewhere else, like he hadn’t already been on a date. before leaving, he barely spared her a glance, just shrugged and said, “can one of your members pick you up? or, I don’t know, a manager or something?”

so here she is doing exactly what he told her, waiting for one of her members to pick her up.

“finally,” she muttered as the car pulled up walking quickly towards the passenger seat, letting out an annoyed groan.

“hey, it’s your fault for calling the worst driver in the group,” she turned at looked at yn who had het hands on the wheel giving her a smile, and then looking down at cup compartment, “I got food, I know you ate already but junk food sounded like a need.”

daniela let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back into the passenger seat as yn pulled away from the curb. she barely had time to register the comforting hum of the car before yn tossed a bag of chips into her lap.

“eat,” yn said simply, keeping her eyes on the road.

daniela huffed but opened the bag anyway, popping a chip into her mouth. “you know, I was having such a good time at first. it was nice. for once, I thought, ‘hey, maybe this one is actually decent.’” she threw a hand up dramatically. “but no. of course not. because why would a man ever act right?”

yn snorted. “that’s what I’m saying.”

daniela rolled her eyes, crunching down on another chip. “like, the absolute audacity of this dude. the bill came, and he just stared at me. didn’t even pretend to reach for his wallet. and I, like the dumbass I am paid.” she groaned, slumping further into the seat. “then his friends show up like we weren’t just on a date, and he asks me if one of my members can pick me up. can you believe that? like I’m some lost child who needs a ride home.”

yn clicked her tongue, glancing over at her. “so, lemme get this straight. he gassed you up, took you out, let you pay, ditched you, and then had the nerve to act like you were his little sister waiting for pickup?”

“exactly.”

“wow.” yn shook her head. “maybe it’s time to switch.”

daniela let out a startled laugh, looking at yn with wide eyes. “switch? as in…” she trailed off, raising a brow.

yn shrugged, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. “I mean, look at the pattern here. you keep going for men, and they keep disappointing you. maybe it’s time to explore… other options.”

daniela laughed again, but it came out a little shaky. “nah, nah, I love men.” she waved a hand dismissively before grumbling, “they’re just… the worst.”

yn chuckled, reaching over to steal a chip from daniela’s bag. “yeah. they are.”

when they got back to the group house, daniela was still fuming, but at least she wasn’t alone in her misery. yn had listened, thrown in her witty remarks, and even let daniela yell dramatically into the car’s ceiling a couple of times. by the time they stepped inside, she was feeling a little better.

until yn did… something.

it was so small, so insignificant that daniela couldn’t even explain why it made her stomach flip. maybe it was the way yn casually reached up to the kitchen cabinet, stretching just enough that the hem of her hoodie lifted, revealing a sliver of skin. or maybe it was the way she grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and handed it to daniela without a word just a soft look that said, drink, you’ll feel better.

daniela took the glass, suddenly hyperaware of the warmth of yn’s fingers against hers.

okay. weird.

she shook it off, convinced it was nothing, but then it

daniela took the glass, suddenly hyperaware of the warmth of yn’s fingers against hers.

okay. weird.

she shook it off, convinced it was nothing, but then it kept happening.

at practice the next day, yn was focused, hair tied back, brows furrowed in concentration as she nailed every move with precision. daniela had seen her dance a thousand times before, but for some reason, this time felt different. like every movement was sharper, every glance was more intense.

at one point, yn pushed her hair out of her face, sweat glistening on her neck, and daniela had to physically look away before she embarrassed herself.

then there was the moment in the kitchen again, except this time, yn was cooking. she moved around the space effortlessly, flipping something in a pan with the kind of confidence daniela wished she saw in more men.

“you cook?” daniela blurted out, standing awkwardly near the counter.

yn glanced up, raising a brow. “yeah?”

daniela cleared her throat. “like, well?”

yn chuckled, plating the food before sliding it toward daniela. “you tell me.”

daniela hesitated before taking a bite and of course, it was good. stupidly good. annoyingly good.

she groaned. “you’re making it really hard to keep my standards low, you know.”

yn shrugged , wiping her hands on a towel. “not the first time someone has said that.”

daniela rolled her eyes at the smug look on yn’s face, “shut up.” she grumbled, her mouth still full with food.

and that was when daniela knew she was in trouble.

it became a problem. a big problem.

yn wasn’t even doing anything special, yet everything she did suddenly seemed so attractive.

daniela caught herself staring way too often, lost in the way yn’s fingers moved over her guitar strings, the way she tilted her head when she listened, the way she remembered things daniela said in passing and brought them up later like they actually mattered.

it was infuriating.

she found herself comparing thinking about the way men had treated her versus the way yn did things effortlessly. yn never made her feel like an afterthought, never left her stranded, never expected anything from her, and that was just her being a friend, it made daniela wonder how she is when it’s more than that.

she was just… there. steady. reliable. and it made daniela’s heart race in a way she wasn’t ready to admit.

but then one night, as they were sitting on the couch, yn tossed a blanket over daniela’s lap and said, “you looked cold.” just like that. simple. no big deal.

except it was a big deal. because no guy had ever thought to do that for her.

daniela stared at yn, heart hammering in her chest.

“what?” yn asked, amused.

daniela swallowed, suddenly remembering their conversation in the car.

maybe it’s time to switch.

she took a shaky breath, forcing a smirk even though her hands felt clammy. “remember when you said it’s time I switch?”

yn tilted her head. “yeah?”

daniela exhaled, eyes locked onto hers.

“…I think you might be right.”

[ssivinee]

「 Call Me Sirene 」

l. sophia x f reader ! ✎𓂃 You and Sophia are just from two completely different worlds. She's the rich, smart, and it girl on campus, while you're the kid no one really knows. Usually busy with work, you weren't aware that the two of you had been paired up on a project. When working on the project begins, feelings begin to go all over the place, and now you're mainly worried about Sophia getting involved in your world, especially when you start to fall for her.

word count ! 25.4 k

tags ! a tad bit of Manon x reader (fwb implications), tons of violence, blood, gore, drugs, underage drinking, alcohol, men being pigs, smut

author's note ! GUYS THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT AND POSTING IT, SO PLS BE NICE. I also locked in for ya'll on this one, so enjoy! This is also kind of inspired by Weak Hero on Netflix since that's what I watched on my small writing break last week, so... yea :3.

On screen, living in Los Angeles seemed like a paradise available in the States. The portrayal had always been a place where anyone could make it big. 

However, that is only if you have luck with it. 

Because to the average person, that was all just a fantasy — unfortunately, you seemed to be one of those ‘average’ people. Well, maybe even less than average.

In your own dictionary, an average person meant a decent house, proper food every night, and a loving family. Yet life always seemed to be against you, like a magical force of the universe kept kicking you while you were down, pummeling you.

You’d felt that for as long as you could remember. Those days in your adolescence almost felt like a dream now — something you still held onto, even if it lived somewhere in the back of your mind.

These thoughts always spiraled first thing in the morning. You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror, the ringing in your ears dulling the rest of the loud noise echoing through the house.

Hair tied into a messy ponytail, you washed your face after spitting out the minty toothpaste. A deep breath in — eyes shut — then you rushed out of the bathroom, heading back to your bedroom, doing your best to avoid both your parents.

Well. Supposed to be parents.

They were only fosters, after all — and terrible ones. Your ‘father’ was a drunk who constantly laid his hands on you and your ‘sibling.’ Meanwhile, your ‘mother’ was okay, but she had Borderline Personality Disorder, which made the sudden shifts in her behavior hard to endure.

You weren’t a bad kid, either — even helped pay for your mom’s medication when you could. You had accolades to your name, a scholarship at the academy where you studied. Frankly, they had nothing to worry about. But none of that seemed to matter.

Frantically looking around, eyes scanning for your black zip-up hoodie. After rummaging through the stack of laundry on top of a computer chair, you slipped the hoodie on and ran out of the house.

Walking to school wasn’t ever eventful — hoodie covering your head with wired earphones in and your head down. It was your way of staying unbothered, making sure no one noticed you.

You had hoped — just hoped — for a normal day at school, at least. But then your phone buzzed, and you froze.

Pulling out the phone, you read the message you assumed was coming.

??? We need you right now

“Sophia?” the professor called, glancing up from their schedule as the Filipina raised her hand, a kind smile gracing her lips.

“Professor Hardin wants to talk to you about the assembly tomorrow, so see him after all your classes, please.”

Sophia nodded and continued organizing her notes and papers for Playwriting. As usual, the theater major kept her focus, taking her academics seriously. She heard rustling behind her, followed by a small gust of wind, and turned to see Lara settling into her chair, an iced matcha drink in hand.

“Did she call my name yet?” The younger whispered out of breath, and as Sophia shook her head, “Lara?” 

“Here!” She excitedly announced as she took off her purse and put it right behind her.

“You were late just because of a matcha latte?” Sophia asked, eyes flicking to her with a knowing look. Lara immediately looked offended.

“First off, I was almost late. Secondly, it’s an iced matcha latte. You know I can’t function without it on early mornings.”

Sophia let out a chuckle, going back to jotting down her notes.

“What class is that for now?” Lara looked over, a bit concerned that she didn’t recognize anything on Sophia’s paper.

“It’s Playwriting, so don’t worry.”

Lara sighs in relief and takes out her iPad, then sips on her drink as the Professor begins the lecture. “Heard Professor Ortiz is giving out pair projects, so fair warning during your last class,” now Sophia sighs at Lara’s whispered warning, hating anything other than solo projects since she did the majority of the work every time.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, but Sophia’s dread lingered — especially with the looming thought of finding out who her partner would be. By the time she sat down in the smaller lecture hall used for acting classes, her hands were clammy, clenched tightly in nervousness.

The Professor walked in and immediately put down his clipboard. 

“As you guys may have heard, you’ll be having a project that will be done in pairs. It’ll be due in a month, but it's for a thirty-minute mock play. How well your time is used, how much time is used, and the quality of the script will affect your grade.”

He moved in front of the desk and leaned against the table, listening as dramatic sighs filled the room. Sophia only shook her head, frustration bubbling beneath her calm demeanor. But the professor raised a hand to silence everyone.

“Now, now — I know some of you aren’t thrilled about the pairing, but I think you’ll enjoy this project. You’ll have creative freedom, with just a few limitations,” he continued, as papers were passed around outlining the project’s criteria.

“With all that being said, I’ll assign your partners now.”

Sophia sat straight, listening carefully while students around her reacted with either cheers or groans as their partners were announced.

She felt a glimmer of hope as the names of people she didn’t want to work with were called — maybe, just maybe, the universe would finally cut her a break?

“Sophia Laforteza and Y/n L/n.”

Her face reacted before her brain did — confusion and irritation flashing across her features.

Sophia was determined to at least talk to her professor about it. ‘Because who in the hell was that?’ She asked herself.

As if on cue, across town, you felt the burn in your knuckles as you stared down at an older man’s face. He looked shocked at your strength, clutching his aching jaw as he lay on the ground, propped up by one elbow.

“What the hell was that for!?” he shouted. You crouched down, wincing at the volume in his voice — your ears never did well with yelling.

“Shut up for a second,” you grunted as you gave him a forceful soccer kick to his abdomen. 

He let out a groan, curling over as you reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair. You watched the fear settle into his eyes as he looked past you, desperate for help. His gaze landed on a woman leaning casually against the brick wall behind you, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets. The shades she wore hid the glint of amusement in her eyes.

“Can’t you help me?” He begged her.

Your grip tightened, yanking his head so he had no choice but to meet your gaze.

 “Didn’t we say you pay up when messaged?” You said calmly. He nodded quickly, looking like he was about to piss himself. 

“Then why has it been a week, and we still have nothing from you?”

He couldn’t respond, the panic taking over as you felt him shake. 

He couldn’t answer. His panic had taken over — you could feel the trembling in his body.  

“You know he gave you a chance to pay it back,” a husky voice chimed in beside you. You raised a brow at the woman stepping in — Manon, smirking like always. She hovered behind you and leaned in close, voice low. “But sadly, a week is our limit before we start terrorizing you.”

“Right?” Manon whispered in your ear, and your body nearly shuddered — but you stayed focused on the trembling man beneath you.

“This one’ll be visiting you every day until then,” she added, patting your shoulder. “But you wouldn’t want that, right?” He nodded frantically, eyes wide.

You were ready to throw in another punch, just to get it out of your system, but Manon pulled you back, steering you toward the car and practically shoving you into the driver’s seat of the ride you took care of like it was your own.

“Did you really have to push me in?” you muttered, exasperated. She slid into the passenger seat with that signature charming smile that always made it impossible to stay mad at her. “It was time to go before you started rocking his shit.”

“Isn’t that why you guys pretty much hired me for?”

She nodded, pulling a blunt from her bag and lighting it. After taking a long drag, she exhaled slowly out the window. “Yeah, but~” She turned to look at you, lowering her shades to the bridge of her nose. One hand reached over, her finger brushing lightly along your jaw.

“You know how you get when we meet clients like that. All hot and bothered.” Now, you rolled your eyes. Her ever-so-flirtatious actions never ceased, but it’s kind of why your friendship worked.

It was how you managed to find some kind of fun in your life.

She gave you a quick smooch on the cheek, then glanced down at her phone. “He said if you're finished, you can go.”

That was all you needed to hear before pulling off. You could feel Manon’s gaze lingering on you. “Make sure you at least remember to drop me off,” she teased, and you nod knowingly.

Falling into this lifestyle wasn’t something you planned. It just… happened. Not like you were proud of the job — but it paid way better than anything else you could get. It helped with saving money up for at least a small apartment, and your mom’s medication.

So what exactly was the job?

It’s a bunch of things, honestly, but your boss likes calling it being an ‘enforcer.’ Your boss was a businessman who sold many things, and it was your job to make sure those people paid up.

Thankfully, it never went beyond beating someone within an inch of their life — but the job did make you feel like someone else entirely. A double life, almost.

And even if you weren’t proud of it, you were guilty of enjoying it. That confession may sound crazy to the normal person, but with the environment you lived in, this was a way to release some steam.

Your whole life had been spent trapped in that shitty home, trying to survive as a perfect student. So when you were offered this gig in your second year of college, you were hesitant. But after shadowing another enforcer doing their job, there was a spark you felt.

After that, you never looked back.

You brought the car to a stop, double-parking in front of a run-down warehouse. Manon let out a relaxed sigh beside you. “You can take the car to school,” she said. “He’ll probably ask you to come back later anyway.” Before getting out, she leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, which didn’t even phase you — that was just her usual antics.

Rushing back to campus, your tires screeched slightly as you pulled into the nearest parking space on campus. You barely put the car into park before grabbing your bag and booking it across the lot and into the building, the wind breezing at your face, with Manon’s expensive scent lingering on you.

Reaching for your phone in your back pocket and glancing at the screen, you exhaled in relief — you’d make it to your last two classes at least. Your stomach growled, and you clutched it in embarrassment, but luckily, no one was around. The empty ache gnawing at you, so you made a beeline for the common area, weaving through multiple students and half-hearted conversations.

Inside, the faint smell of espresso and citrus snacks filled the air. You slid a few crumpled bills into the snack machine from your front pocket, buying a cold coffee and a small bag of chips. The annoyingly loud clink of coins echoed into the machine.

Meanwhile, across the lounge space, Sophia sat at the round couch near the window, her expression visibly irritated as she waved her hand in emphasis.

“I don’t understand why he grouped me with someone who barely even shows up to class,” she complained, arms folded across her chest. Her brows furrowed as she recounted the short conversation with her professor.

She had gone straight to him after class, hoping to reason her way out of the random pairing. But instead of hearing her out, he dismissed her concerns without so much as a second thought.

“You know we don’t prioritize attendance much,” he had said, “but Y/n does well in every single one of her classes.”

That answer didn’t sit right with her. Sure, professors didn’t assign much digitally — it was a performance-heavy major. Most of the work had to be done in person. Still, if you were barely there, how could your grades be that solid?

It didn’t matter, since she couldn’t trust his word for it, because she just couldn’t believe it at all. “This is so… UGH!” she groaned, throwing her head back in frustration.

Yoonchae, Lara, and Megan exchanged small giggles at her dramatics, clearly fond of the rare spirals Sophia has. “It shouldn’t be that bad,” Yoonchae offered with a soft shrug, the youngest of the four trying to ease the mood. 

She looked to the others for support. “She’s right,” Lara chimed in, crossing one leg over the other. “You’re Miss Sophia Laforteza — you’ll make it work.”

“Exactly,” Megan added, leaning back with a stretch, her elbows resting on the armrests of her seat. “Besides, Y/n can’t be that bad if she’s on a scholarship here, right?”

Sophia raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but does anyone actually know anything about her?”

That question was met with synchronized shakes of the head. Sophia let out another groan, letting her head thunk softly against the back of the couch.

“Wait!” Megan suddenly perked up, her eyes darting across the room. “I think Daniella is friends with her. I’m pretty sure they hang out sometimes between classes.”

The group followed her gaze as she craned her neck, scanning the far end of the common room. Then her finger lifted and pointed subtly. “Bingo.”

Sophia followed the line of Megan’s finger and spotted a table tucked into the corner by the windows. You sat there, slouched slightly in your seat beside the Latina and, oddly enough, you looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

“Oh… she’s hot,” Lara blurted without shame. No one even flinched at the comment; Lara’s bluntness was the norm by now. But Sophia blinked, stunned by how not what she expected you were.

You had this quiet intensity about you — tired eyes that looked like they didn’t tolerate bullshit, with knuckles looking a bit pink in color. The hood of your zip-up hung loosely over your head, stray pieces of black hair framing your face. 

Your hoodie was unzipped low, revealing a plain white tank underneath, snug against your frame, and a tattoo of lilies peeked out across your right collarbone that reached toward your shoulder blades.

Your lips were plush, parted slightly in amusement at whatever your friend said beside you, and there was the faintest curl of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. You looked like someone who didn’t ask for attention. Which is technically a success if Sophia didn’t know who you were until this project.

“Should you go intro—” Lara began, but Sophia was already ten steps ahead, her heels confidently clicking across the marble floor as she strutted toward your table. “Oh no,” Yoonchae muttered, watching the possible trainwreck about to unfold with a sense of secondhand embarrassment coming over her.

You took another slow sip of your strong, cold coffee, the flavor biting against your tongue as the sound of approaching heels pulled your attention away from whatever Daniella had just said. You looked up, brows pulling slightly together at the sight of the one and only Sophia standing in front of you.

Daniella blinked beside you, just as confused, her head tilting slightly as she asked, “Uhm… hello?” more out of instinct than anything welcoming.

In the back of Sophia’s mind, she had come in ready to make demands, set the tone, maybe even give you a strong few words. But standing in front of you, with your unreadable expression and calm aura, she instinctively knew that wouldn’t go over well. Something about your posture warned her not to try it.

Her expression shifted quickly, the stoic look changing into a practiced, polite smile.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but are you Y/n?”

You didn’t answer immediately — just stared at her for a moment. You could feel Daniella’s curious gaze flicking between you two, waiting to see where this was going. You finally gave a short nod.

Sophia cleared her throat. “We’re partners for Professor Roland’s project in Playwriting. I’m So—”

“I know who you are,” you said plainly, cutting her off with no hesitation. Your voice wasn’t rude — just firm enough for Sophia to believe her intuition was correct about being smart with you. “I’ll talk to him about the project first thing in class tomorrow. Just give me your number, and I’ll reach out.”

You pulled a pen and a tiny pad of yellow Post-it notes from your bag and slid them across the table with the casualness of someone used to giving orders. Sophia hesitated, lips parting slightly in surprise, almost scoffing, but bit it back. Instead, she scribbled down her number, leaning forward and murmuring, “If you’re even coming into class tomorrow.”

You weren’t phased at the comment, just staring right back at her. “I’ll act like I didn’t hear that.”

Sophia’s brows lifted slightly, more in relief than defiance, as she clasped her hands together, putting on her smile again. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

You watched her walk away quickly, her posture a little stiffer than what you’d assume. Across the lounge, her friends immediately perked up like a pack of gossiping birds, leaning in as Sophia dropped back into her seat with an audible sigh.

“That didn’t look too bad,” Megan commented, eyeing her curiously. “How’d it go?” Yoonchae asked, genuinely curious.

“She’s a bitch,” Sophia muttered under her breath as she slumped into her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can change her,” Lara said dreamily, already gazing across the room like she was mapping out an entire future with you.

“Okay, so it did go bad,” Yoonchae concluded, but Sophia shook her head. “It’s not even that… she’s just bossy!” Her voice pitched up, nearly too loud, and the group hushed her immediately.

“Ohhh, what I’m hearing is… you’ve met your match,” Lara teased, already grinning. “Love a good top,” she added with a smirk, half-joking — but only half. Megan let out a stifled giggle, covering her mouth.

“Not the time,” Sophia muttered, shooting them a glare while Megan and Lara both raised their hands in mock surrender. “Copy that,” Megan mumbled through her smile. “So what now?” Yoonchae asked again, chin resting on her hand.

“She said to give her my number and she’ll talk to Roland tomorrow.”

“That’s if she even comes in tomorrow.”

“That’s what I said!” Sophia huffed, pointing at Yoonchae like they were in sync. She slumped back again with a sigh. “I guess I’ll see how it goes.”

“Don’t forget any details, babe,” Lara said, casually chomping into her sandwich, eyes still flickering toward your table.

“That was odd,” Daniella muttered beside you, her fork hovering in mid-air. You just shrugged, eyes still lingering in the direction Sophia had disappeared. “I’m guessing Miss Perfect isn’t too thrilled about being partnered with me.”

That made Daniella chuckle, nudging you lightly with her elbow as she poked toward Sophia’s group with her fork. “It did seem like she was holding back.”

“Then she made a good decision.”

Daniella tilted her head, one brow raised, giving you that don’t be a menace look. “Be a little nice, please.” You stared at her like she’d just spoken a foreign language. “Am I not nice?” She didn’t even hesitate, “You can be a bit bossy sometimes.” She took another bite of her chicken, chewing with zero shame. “And honestly, you don’t want to make her your enemy. All your brains won’t mean shit if she decides to make your life hell.”

A slow smirk tugged at your lips. “I can handle her.” Daniella hummed, not convinced. “Sure~ you can.” Even if you weren’t at school every day, you knew plenty about Sophia Laforteza. The Filipina was rich, driven, smart, popular — basically a walking main character, and people liked her… or at least pretended to. 

“Oh, are you coming over for dinner tonight? My mom’s cooking.”

“What’s tía making?” you asked, instantly more invested in the conversation. “Vaca Frita.”

You let out a soft, involuntary sound — almost a moan — just from hearing it. But then your shoulders slumped, the responsible part of your brain taking over. “I’ve got work later. Can’t tonight.”

Daniella knew well enough not to push. “Your loss then, girl.” She checked her phone and jolted slightly. “Crap, I gotta head out — class starts in five. I’ll text you tonight?”

You nodded, watching her grab her bag and head out. You opened your chips, the crinkling bag filling the air as you leaned back, letting the salt hit your tongue.

The rest of your day passed without issue. You sat through your classes, sped through the majority of your notes, and eventually made your way to the parking lot just as the sunset tinted the sky.

As you walked out, Sophia and her friends were standing at the campus entrance, waiting for her chauffeur. She glanced around absently until her eyes landed on you. You’d pulled something from your backpack, likely your keys, right before a sharp beep echoed across the lot. Her head turned automatically toward the sound.

And then she saw you slide smoothly into the driver’s seat of a Lexus, shutting the door. “She owns a Lexus?” Sophia asked, barely hiding her surprise. Lara leaned forward, eyes tracking you as if she were witnessing a twist ending. “Well… she’s now officially even hotter in my eyes.”

“I definitely agree,” Megan chimed in, while Yoonchae snorted softly, shaking her head at the chaos that was her friends.

Without a care in the world, you made it to the warehouse—the usual weathered, run-down building squatting between two abandoned lots. You pulled into the large garage, parking among a handful of high-end cars that didn’t fit the look of the building.

You took off your hoodie, the heat causing you to sweat, with tattoos peeking through your white tank, and the scars along your arms could be faintly seen from the multiple fights you’ve been in all the years of working your job. As you entered the building, you saw thick with smoke, smelled cheap liquor, the scent of weed, and whatever stale cologne some of your other coworkers practically drowned their bodies in.

People were scattered across the room: gambling, arguing over cards, drinking, flirting, and lounging around like a normal day.

You spotted Manon near the office door, legs crossed, poised as she sat in her favorite chair. Of course, she’d be waiting for you. It was pretty much her usual thing to do when you guys worked together for the day.

“Did he say anything to you?” you asked, stepping closer. Manon’s eyes swept over you — a slow, deliberate drag — taking in the tank top, the ink, the tough skin. “He said he just wants a report on that guy.”

“Donovan,” you corrected.

“Yeah… Donovan,” she echoed, distracted as she walked up to you. Her eyes flicked to your lips as she hooked her arms lazily around your neck, pulling herself closer with a practiced ease. You leaned your head back with a sigh, already over her antics. “Not now, Manon,” you muttered, slipping out of her hold with ease. 

As your hand reached for the office door, her voice trailed behind you, sounding innocent and sweet. “Then later?” You glanced back, lips curving just slightly. “Maybe.” She evidently lit up at your words, and you pushed through the door before she could say anything else.

Inside, the boss sat at his desk, flipping through a mess of paperwork with the focus of someone who’d seen too much. You stopped in the center of the room, hands instinctively clasped behind your back.

“How did it go with Donovan?” he asked without looking up. “He’ll pay by the end of the day tomorrow,” you said plainly.

“And if not?”

“Then he’ll have a broken arm before midnight.” Your voice didn’t waver, and the way you spoke came out with normalcy. That alone made him smile. “And if he still doesn’t—Y/n?”

“Then I’ll deliver him to you personally.” Each line came out as if a soldier were speaking to their commander. But he liked that about you the most — you were his most reliable enforcer. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

You rolled your shoulders, neck cracking as you stretched, and asked, “Anything else you need, Rai?”

“No. You’re done for today,” he said, eyes back on the papers. “Stick around if you want.” You nodded once and slipped out. The air outside the office felt colder, and the multiple AC units were working overtime to cool the concrete-covered place. You walked back to where Manon was — in the same seat, more secluded than the rest of the room.

Everyone knew that was her spot. She is Rai’s favorite woman after all, and unlike most women in this place, she didn’t earn her power by flirting her way up. 

Some might think Rai favored you both for the same reasons, but they’d be wrong. It wasn’t about attraction for both of you. It was about the consistency in how much money you make for him, the unwavering loyalty you gave him, and the usual great results. He’s seen it in the weekly reports he had for each of his workers.

It’s why the two of you were usually grouped together, allowed to use any one of his cars, and could even ask for help whenever. Both of you assumed that was the reason he had both of you partnering up during jobs often.

Being an enforcer also didn’t just mean beating up people for their debt, but also protecting the woman who worked with Rai. None of the women did anything crazy, but if they did, Manon wasn’t one of them. She’s just a terrifyingly amazing actress with a face that most men couldn’t resist falling for. 

Yet you were lucky enough to clearly see that Manon had a thing for you instead. 

Although she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in a relationship, at least at this point in her life, that didn’t mean she wasn’t attracted to you. Never stopped her from showing how bad she wanted you, either.

Like now, in the way she’s currently straddling your lap, knees pinning you in place, her face dangerously close, and that signature smirk was slowly spreading across her lips.

“Think you’ll be around tomorrow?” she asked, her voice soft between the light kisses she pressed along your jaw, then to the corners of your mouth. Her weight settled fully into your lap, your hands gripping her thighs with ease. It was Manon’s usual thing, and it was only up to you if the two of you would go any further.

“Probably not. I’ve got things to do for school,” you muttered, feeling her lips stall at your words. Manon pulled back just enough to pout, her eyes softening into that look, the one that always made you sigh without meaning to.

“Will you come here for me then?” she asked, the tip of her finger lightly tracing your collarbone. You exhaled, already defeated. “Not until midnight. I’ve got a project I can’t skip.”

She inched in closer, just enough for her breath to ghost across your lips slowly. “Make sure to make time for me?”

You huffed a short laugh, head tilting back slightly as you looked at her. The absurdity of this woman who is so wanted by so many people, sitting in your lap like you were the only one who existed.

“I’d honestly rather be with you every day instead of working with my project partner, so…”

Her grin curled wickedly. “I’m not hearing a no, Y/n~”

You felt her body shift forward again, like she was daring you to stop her, and when her lips hovered over yours again, just close enough to taste, then whatever self-control you had cracked.

“I’ll make it work,” you whispered against her lips.

She kissed you then, soft at first. You felt her breath from her nose against your cheek as her lips melted into yours, the faint feeling of her lip gloss catching on your tongue when she deepened the kiss.

Her hands slid up your torso, nails grazing at your sides as you feel them through the thin fabric of your top, before curling around the back of your neck. She held you close, anchoring herself against you as her mouth moved with a slow rhythm. 

You wrapped your arms tight around her waist, pulling her flush against you with no space left. Her hips shifted a bit in your lap, “shit.” You could only whisper before locking lips again, and you swore you could feel her smirking.

Her tongue slipped past your lips, like she’d done it a hundred times — and yet, it always made your body heat up. The slow drag of it against yours had your fingers digging gently into the backs of her thighs, feeling every move, breath, and hum that vibrated from her throat into your mouth.

The kiss grew messy since Manon had a need for you, clearly less patient than when she first started. Her hands tangled in your tied-up hair as you tilted your head, kissing her deeper, harder. 

Eventually, she pulled back just a bit, breath shaky, her eyes still half-lidded as she looked down at you with a grin that showed her satisfaction. Her gloss was smudged, lips slightly swollen, and you knew you looked just as wrecked after all of it.

“Midnight, huh?” she whispered, fingertips tracing your jaw lazily. “I’ll be waiting.”

The comment had you chuckling as she slid off your lap. She grabbed her purse from the side of the chair, pulled out another blunt, and offered it to you with a lighter. You raised a brow, tempted since it had been a long day.

“For me?” you joked, and Manon tilted her head, her lips twitching at the corners. “Thought you might want a treat.”

“So what we just did wasn’t my treat?” you asked, more genuine this time, which had Manon giggling before pointing a warning finger at you.

“Don’t tempt me, Y/n. You know I’d take you right here, right now.”

You shrugged a shoulder in casual agreement—and yeah, you did know. She’d grinded on you during slow nights during jobs at the club, whispered filthy things in your ear just to see you react, and once even tried to convince you to fuck her in the back of one of Rai’s cars after literally beating two people up.

Now taking the blunt from her fingers, you perched it between your lips and sparked the lighter, letting the flame burn the edge. Manon watched, gaze hungry, as you took a pull, then grinned as you exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

“Why are you so hot?” she asked, her voice sounding frustrated yet admiring.

You looked at her, the blunt resting soft on your bottom lip, a slow grin creeping across your face. In your head, the attraction people had toward you never quite made sense. Maybe it was some psychological bullshit. That’s what you liked to blame it on.

Sure, the tattoos and piercings screamed fuck-girl energy, and maybe the way you carried yourself didn’t help. But to you, you were just you. If that made any sense.

You took another drag, felt the burn in your lungs and the heat settle low in your gut, then puffed out a slow stream of smoke before handing the blunt off to Manon, who took it with a satisfied hum.

“So what about this project partner you clearly can’t stand?” she asked, taking a pull herself and letting the smoke drift lazily from her mouth.

“Just a prissy rich girl, honestly.”

“Is she hot?” she asked, deadpan. You cut her a look. “Of course you’d want to know.”

She just shrugged, unfazed. “It’s a valid question.” You rolled your eyes, but still, the question had you pondering. If you were being truly honest with yourself, she’s undeniably beautiful. That’s why people flocked around her and added the money, the intelligence, and the reputation into the equation; you aren’t stupid to not admit she’s hot.

“She isn’t ugly,” you muttered, finally admitting it. Manon cackled at that, familiar with your deflection. After working together for four years, she could read you like a damn book.

“So that’s a yes,” she teased, smug. “Fuck yeah, she is.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” You snatched the blunt from her fingers again, taking a deeper pull as she sat back, visibly entertained.

“You’re clearly about to have a rough few weeks, so good luck to you.”

‘...Yeah, good luck to me,’ you thought, watching the smoke swirl into the air as you took one last drag.

The next day, you walked into your Playwriting class wearing a black long-sleeve compression shirt tucked into your grey baggy sweats. Sophia’s eyes found you immediately as you strolled down the aisle of the small lecture hall, one hand gripping the strap of your book bag while you chatted with Professor Roland.

She watched from her seat, quietly observing the way he nodded along to nearly everything you said. He pulled out a paper, Sophia assuming it was the same one the class received the day prior, and handed it over without question. He was explaining a few things while you listened, head tilted in that way that made it look like you actually gave a damn.

Roland was one of the more chill professors anyway, so it didn’t surprise you when he let you off easy.

You glanced around the room, eyeing your seating options. It was still early, so only about half the seats were filled. That’s when you spotted Sophia, already looking at you, her lips pulled into a tight-lipped smile.

You chuckled under your breath at the expression and made your way over, figuring it’d be smart to sit next to your partner in case class time was given to work on the project. Sophia subtly shifted in her seat, leaning to her right like she was trying to physically distance herself from you.

“You’re here today,” she said, more sarcastic than she probably meant to sound. “I told you I would be,” you replied, setting your bag between your legs as you pulled out a notebook. “I don’t go back on my word.”

She didn’t respond, just glanced at you again—and this time, she didn’t stop. If she wasn’t going to talk to you, maybe she could get a read on who you were by just observing… It was also a good way of checking you out, but she wouldn’t say that out loud.

You gripped your pen, scribbling something down, and she caught sight of your handwriting, which, to her surprise, was actually rather neat. Her gaze then traveled to your hands, which looked strong. A little roughed up, your knuckles having gashes on them and looking a bit darker than the pink she saw the day before. She caught herself wondering what they’d been through to look like that.

You noticed and peeked over at her. “Am I distracting you?” you asked, amused. Sophia snapped her head away, clearly caught. “No, you aren’t.”

You scoffed quietly, fighting a smirk. “What do you want our play to be on?” she asked, tapping on her tablet like she hadn’t just been staring at you.

You shrugged. “You can pick. I’ll go with it.” That made her glance at you, brows slightly raised. “You sure you can handle it?”

You met her gaze with a certainty. “I know I can.”

Setting your pen down, you gave her your full attention. She hesitated, but then answered.

“Fine. A tragic love story.” You nodded once, lips slightly pursed. “I’m cool with that.”

Sophia went back to her tablet, and for the first time since she found out she was paired up with you, she didn’t seem so tense. She could already see the way you were scribbling ideas in your notebook, outlines of scenes, bits of dialogue, maybe even character notes. 

It surprised her how quickly she started to feel… not annoyed? Almost like she didn’t mind this. Then the realization hit her.

…You’d have to act this out… Together… Just the two of you.

She palmed her forehead, cursing herself under her breath. “Wait — how about—”

“No take backs,” you said smoothly, not even looking up from your notebook. Sophia gave you a side-eye, reluctantly amused. “I hate you.”

You grinned. “You don’t even know me yet.”

Yet, by the time class ended, Sophia had to admit that every idea you suggested was actually good. You worked fast and didn’t waste time, pretty much realizing that this was one of the reasons why you continuously passed your classes despite not coming into school. 

She still didn’t know what to make of you entirely, but she could work with this and maybe even enjoy it. “Hey,” she said as you both gathered your stuff. “Do you want to work on the project at my place after classes?”

You glanced over at her. “I can. But only for a few hours — I’ve got work later.”

“That’s fine,” she said quickly. “I’ll text you once all my classes end. Then send the address.” You tell her and she nods, slinging her purse around her arm.  You left her, making sure to meet up with Daniella off campus for the day since she texted you early enough about her many professors canceling classes.

With Sophia, back in the Common Area, she walked in to find her friends lounging in their spot. The second Lara spotted her, she raised her brows with a smirk. “Okay, details now,” Lara demanded.

Megan perked up, and even Yoonchae tilted her head in interest. Sophia rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile creeping onto her lips.

“…It wasn’t awful,” she said, settling into the seat next to them.

“Ohhhh, not awful?” Lara teased, grinning. “We’re already making progress.” Sophia shook her head, reaching for her drink and hiding her face behind the straw.

“She actually does work!” Sophia cheered, throwing her hands up. Yoonchae giggled at the reaction, finding it dramatic for something so basic. “That’s one thing to be happy about,” she said, sipping from her bottle.

“Are you guys working on the project today?” Megan asked between slurps of her noodles. Sophia nodded. “Yeah, for like a couple of hours at my place. She’s got work, so I’m not sure how much we’ll get done.”

Lara leaned back with her iced tea, stirring it lazily with her straw. “I wonder what she even does for work?”

“Probably something with heavy labor,” Sophia replied absentmindedly. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, since her hands are so muscu—”

She froze when she caught the three of them staring at her with matching expressions. “What?” she asked, blinking.

“How long were you staring at her hands?” Megan asked bluntly, while Sophia felt the heat creeping up her neck. Lara squinted, a grin spreading across her face as she spotted the soft pink peeking beneath Sophia’s makeup. “You know, I don’t blame you,” she teased, “but it is kind of unexpected coming from you.”

Sophia rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. While the girls were busy poking fun at her, across campus you were heading into the café near campus.

Your eyes scanned the tables and landed on Dani, who was sitting by the window, scrolling on her phone. Just before you reached her, you texted Sophia a simple ‘hey, it’s Y/n,’ so you wouldn’t forget to hit her up later for her address. She sent a quick thumbs-up reaction on the bubble before sliding into the seat across from Dani.

“You order yet?” you asked, dropping your bag onto the floor beside you. “I got garlic bread for us to split, iced chai for me, espresso for you.” You smiled, appreciative. “That works. Thanks.”

She waved you off like it was nothing. “So, how was work yesterday?”

“Easy,” you answered plainly. It had just been a chill check-in with Rai — nothing intense. “And Manon?” she asked, eyeing you over the rim of her cup. Your brow rose instantly. “What about her?”

The name had slipped out during one of those way-too-late conversations you and Dani tended to have. Which was the worst mistake ever since she didn’t even know what Manon looked like, but that hadn’t stopped her from being your number one shipper since.

“Did you guys… You know?” Her voice dropped like she was about to tell you a secret. Your eyes widened at the implication. “We didn’t do it yesterday,” you hissed, before you could accidentally announce it to the whole café.

“Right~” Dani smirked, all smug satisfaction, and you didn’t even have time to come up with a comeback before the server arrived with your order.

You grabbed a slice of garlic bread like it was your saving grace. “What about Sophia?” she asked after a few bites, but she was more curious this time.

“She’s gonna send me her address,” you replied, mouth still half full. “We’ll work on the project for, like, an hour or so. I’m not planning to overstay. Then I’ve got work later tonight.”

“Like… later later?”

“Yup~” you nodded, voice a little sing-songy.

Dani didn’t say anything, just leaving her knowledge of that again. She didn’t know everything about your job, not that you ever hid it from her, but she definitely knew what “later” meant. Someone was likely going to get hurt by you, she just didn’t know to what extent.

“Think working with her is gonna be a breeze, though?”

“Oh, not at fucking all. Have you met the girl?” you deadpan, and Dani bursts out laughing. “Hey, at least you get to experience the rich life for both of us,” she teases, and you just shrug, not entirely convinced that was a good way to think of it.

If anything, the idea of spending the next few weeks going between your job and someone else's luxury felt more suffocating. The anxiety had been bubbling beneath your skin all day, and getting Sophia’s address right after classes didn’t help. Her place was further than you expected, tucked away in some grand neighborhood that showed up on Google Maps.

If you tried commuting the whole way there and back, it’d be at least an hour each trip, more if traffic hit or the trains got backed up. And by the time you’d need to leave, buses would be packed with people going home from whatever crazy routine they had.

‘Shit,’ you muttered to yourself, slipping your phone into your back pocket. The only solution you could think of was borrowing one of Rai’s cars for the next couple of weeks. You didn’t love the idea since it felt like you were using his kindness, but you figured if you got the project mostly done ahead of time, maybe you wouldn’t need to use the car for a longer time.

After your last class, you texted Rai about taking the BMW, waiting by the edge of the warehouse until you got the simple text.

Rai Keys are in the box Don’t scratch her

You smirked, unlocked the silver car, and peeled out of the lot. What would've been an hour-long commute was shortened to about thirty minutes, the engine feeling more luxurious than expected, and low music from the stereo let your anxiety calm down a bit.

Then Google Maps made you pull up to the large gates. They were black and high—crowned by jagged tips cemented on top of a thick, pale concrete wall. The house behind them was humongous. Spanish-style architecture, with reddish roof tiles and tall windows that reflected the sun right through the dark-tinted windshield.

Your eyes flicked to the intercom. You pressed the button and leaned in, awkward and unsure. “How can I help you?” a woman’s voice asked through the speaker, calm and clipped.

“Uhm—yeah, I’m Sophia’s partner. For the project?”

“Full name?”

“Y/n L/n.”

A moment of silence, then a well-oiled gate started sliding open to your right. You drove in slowly, watching the path wind past perfectly cut hedges and a tiered fountain. Parking just in front of the entrance, killing the engine as the front door opened. An older woman in a maid uniform greeted you with a practiced smile.

“Please come in. Miss Laforteza should be down in a bit,” she said kindly, stepping aside to let you in.

The air inside was cool, air filled with a soft citrus scent and sparkling marble flooring that made you aware of every single scuff on your sneakers. The foyer was already the size of your entire house, and your gaze swept the curved staircase and twinkling chandelier.

Yeah, you were gonna need a minute to get used to this. Shifting in your stance, your fingers tighten around your bag strap as Sophia appears at the top of the stairs. Her hair was loosely tied back, and she was wearing lavender sweats and a snug white baby tee with ‘babygirl’ written in pale pink bubble letters.

The contrast from everyday polished heels and a designer outfit made your brows raise slightly.

“Didn’t think I’d see you in sweats,” you said, more amused than anything. Sophia rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips. “I am home, so it makes sense to get comfy.”

She turned to the maid, politely asking for drinks and snacks to be brought to the library.

You blinked. “I mean... I’d say this is more than a house,” you muttered under your breath as she waved for you to follow.

“We can work in the library,” she said over her shoulder. You stared at her like she just said, ‘We can work on Mars.’

“Library?” you echoed, brows raised. “Yeah? Is that a problem?” Sophia glanced back, confused. “I guess not,” you replied quickly, trailing behind her. You weren’t really sure what the right response was. 

‘Oh, cool, I’ve got a library too. It’s called a public one, and I wait forty minutes just to use a computer over there.’ 

Every hallway turn just screamed wealth, and a little voice in your brain repeated poor over and over again.

When she opened the doors, the scent of paper greeted you instantly. Warm lighting glowed from sconces on the wall, giving the room a soft amber hue. Everything was dark mahogany—bookshelves stretching up the walls, thick wooden tables, chairs with cotton cushions, and old mirrors.

It didn’t feel warm temperature-wise, but it looked warm. You exhaled slowly, trying not to feel out of place. “All the books in here probably cost more than my entire scholarship fund,” you mumbled, shifting the strap of your bag.

Sophia giggled under her breath, then gestured toward one of the long tables. “Sit wherever. Do you have any ideas?” You nodded, already sliding into the chair and placing your notebook on the table, the exact same one she’d seen in class.

You flipped a few pages, landing on one that was scrawled with notes. Some scene concepts, bits of dialogue, and even sketched thumbnails of stage direction. 

Sophia glanced at the notebook, her brows lifting slightly as she skimmed the mess of notes. Only that it wasn’t a mess, the ideas just seemed to be scribbled and out of order. The lines were neatly sectioned, with little arrows pointing to rewritten ideas and stage cues. She blinked at a few of them, caught off guard.

“You wrote all this… already?” she asked, leaning in a bit more, her voice softer now.

You shrugged, tapping a corner of the book with the back of your pen. “Just what came to mind last night and in class. Didn’t know what kinda story you’d want, so I scribbled a couple of options. A revenge arc. A slow-burn. A dual-perspective thing. This one here’s more metaphorical, could be staged minimalistically since it’s just the two of us acting it out.”

Sophia didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached out to scroll down on her own screen, silently clicking and pulling up a document. “Let’s… do the slow-burn one,” she murmured, still processing what you wrote down.

Your eyes stayed on her, noticing how she sat more relaxed. She wasn’t leaning away from you like she had in class. Instead, her eyes darted between your notes and her laptop as her fingers sped through each letter on the keyboard.

The door creaked open a few minutes later, and the soft clinking of glassware drew your attention. Her maid stepped in quietly, placing a polished silver tray on the end table. It had two tall glasses of mango juice, a porcelain bowl of salted crackers, and a plate of rigid potato chips. She nodded politely and stepped back out without a word.

“Thanks, Ate Mel,” Sophia called out, before glancing at you again. “In case you were gonna say you didn’t eat.” You smirked, reaching for a chip and flicking a brow. “Didn’t say that. Just wasn’t gonna ask for anything.”

She laughed, surprising herself with how natural it came out. “You’re not really what I expected,” she admitted, reaching for her own glass. The condensation already wet her fingertips.

“That makes two of us,” you quipped, then pointed to one of the sections in your notebook.

“So this—scene two—I imagined a turning point. There’s a moment where one of them is standing in a room full of people, but they only feel her. It’s crowded and loud, but everything dulls except the moment their hands touch. That kind of quiet tension.”

Sophia’s lips parted slightly, and she just blinked again, not quite sure how to respond to the imagery. She read over your note more carefully this time, mouthing a few of the lines. “This is… really good. Like, it’s layered. I didn’t expect you to be so detailed about it.”

You gave a short laugh, looking back at your notebook before murmuring, “Scholarship students kinda have to overcompensate, y’know? We don’t exactly get to breeze through.”

You didn’t sound bitter, but you did sound honest. Sophia studied you in the amber glow of the room’s lights, the way the light kissed the curve of your cheekbone, casting a soft shadow down your jaw. She thought of the way you walked into class like you didn’t care, only to show up with a notebook full of genius-level notes.

“I get it now,” she said quietly. You looked up. “Get what?” She tucked a leg beneath her and smiled, sincere this time. “Why you got into the school.”

You tilted your head but didn’t say anything. Just tapped your pen, smirking lightly under your breath.

Before you knew it, time went by quickly after she gave you such a generous comment. You filled up newer pages; she had opened and closed multiple tabs throughout the past few hours as well. The project, piece by piece, started shaping itself into something you both felt proud of.

Eventually, your eyes caught time on your phone, where it buzzed as a notification appeared from Rai. You started closing your notebook, brushing stray crumbs off your lap, and adjusting the waistband of your sweats.

Sophia noticed how your energy shifted from an easygoing project partner to this serious version of yourself. “You’re leaving?” she asked, watching as you slipped your notebook back into your bag.

“Yeah. Gotta bounce in like fifteen if I don’t wanna be late.”

“Work?” she guessed, leaning her elbow against the table, chin balanced on her knuckles.

You nodded. “Yeah. Late shift.”

Your voice lowered, in a tone that sounded more wary, like you weren’t happy about going, but you would anyway. Sophia stood with you as you slung your bag over one shoulder, following you out of the library. Neither of you said anything as you made your way down the long hallway, down the winding staircase again.

Outside, the early evening had cooled a bit, and the sky was a blend of lavender and gold. You headed for the car, and that’s when she saw the metallic silver BMW. Her brows twitched up subtly. 

It wasn’t judgment in her mind, but more like curiosity and surprise. You didn’t seem in need of money, but you also didn’t seem that rich to own two cars like that.

She didn’t say anything, though. Just walked with you out of the house with arms crossed loosely. You turned around before getting in. “Text me if you think of anything else, yeah?”

Sophia nodded, biting back the thought that was stuck on the BMW. Instead, she just asked, “Same time tomorrow?”

“Works for me,” you said, tugging the car door open. “Thanks for the juice, by the way.”

She smiled and leaned against the stone pillar door frame. “Don’t be late for work.”

You smirked at that and slid into the driver’s seat, the door shutting with a satisfying thud. As you pulled away, Sophia stood there a second longer, arms still folded as she waited for you to leave completely.

Almost hoping, any thought that lingered in her mind would go away as soon as you left her view. But you seemed to have a chokehold on many women’s minds.

While pulling up to a red light, your phone buzzed. Rai’s message popped up with an address attached. He added nothing else to it, but it didn’t take much to guess it was Donovan’s location. Your heart began beating rapidly as you turned onto the highway, weaving through traffic like muscle memory. The lines of each lane seemed blurry to your vision, and your grip on the wheel tightened.

You parked a block away, turned the car off, and walked slowly, realizing that you probably should’ve brought a hoodie for less attention. Hearing the asphalt scraping under your shoes, the faint sound of cars driving from the highway far behind you. 

You kept your head down, with eyes scanning each building as you walked down the sidewalk. Apartment complexes and ruined houses filled the street, and you were mentally making notes to start checking each door you passed—until he showed up first.

Donovan strolled into your view like he owned the block, a grin that made your skin crawl stretching across his face. His eyes locked on yours, noticing how smug he looked.

You stopped walking, arms folding across your chest. “What’s this?” you asked flatly, narrowing your gaze.

He let out a shrill, ugly laugh. “You know, it’s so~ sad that you’re such a pretty lady,” he said, and just as he spoke, three guys rounded the corner behind him. One was bulky, arms evidently thicker than your thigh. Another looked like a gym bro in his ‘off’ season. The last was leaner, but that may work in his favor. Assuming that he brought them here to scare and jump you.

“Maybe in another universe, this could’ve been different,” Donovan added, his voice dropping into something slimy. His tone and the way he implied something more, and the way his eyes stared at you for far too long. Your face showed pure disgust, head pulling back slightly like you could physically distance yourself from whatever the hell he thought that was.

That reaction was enough to piss him off. He licked his teeth, like it’d help his ego. “Have a good time with my friends.”

The three men spaced out, walking toward you with caution. You were standing dead center now, their footsteps echoing faintly off the pavement as they boxed you in.

You blinked, unimpressed. “What kind of movie are we filming right now?” you muttered, then gesturing lazily toward Donovan. “You really pulled a goon trio on me? What, Craigslist wasn’t hiring?”

He just smirked like he knew this was going to work in his favor. “A petite girl like you can’t do anything against them.”

You tilted your head, eyes sharp now. “Yeah? Well, this ‘petite girl’ also kicked the shit out of you yesterday.”

The lean guy twitched. He was losing patience, and you figured he’d be the one to start. He had a crazy look in his eyes, and he… licked his lips in an icky way.

His steps closed in quicker than the others, and before you could even sigh at the predictability of it all, his fist swung wide toward your face. He was clearly excited for a ‘beat down.’

It connected, which had your head snapping slightly to the side. You blinked, let the sting settle for half a second, then turned back to face him slowly. You licked the inside of your cheek and gave a smirk.

“I wanted you to hit me first,” you said calmly, voice flat. “If we get caught here, at least I can say it was self-defense.”

Your hand snapped forward, fingers wrapping around the lean guy’s wrist, pulling him forward just enough to slam your knee into his ribs. The second knee had him grunting, as he almost staggered away from your hold, and you stepped in closer to elbow him square in the temple. He dropped, his body thudding on the sidewalk.

You weren’t sure why people never just went in at the same time; that could be a way to win, but no one ever did. The biggest of the three hesitated, giving you a window. You went low, kicking one shin hard enough that he fell. You hear a tiny crack from his back hitting the pavement, but he caught himself with one hand, scrambling back up quicker than expected.

Maybe he didn’t stretch?

But you backed up, your breathing regulated as your chest rose and fell. Experience would be on your side every time. Being in multiple fights will have you bleeding, sobbing, and clawing for survival, especially as a woman in this job.

He lunged at you again, aiming for your waist this time, trying to lift you up, maybe slam you against a concrete wall. But your body twisted, and you slammed your elbow down into the base of his neck. His arms dropped enough for you to shove him off, and you followed it up with a sharp kick to his stomach. The heel of your sneakers is digging into his navel. He leaned over, holding onto his lower stomach.

You turned just in time to dodge a right hook from the burly one.

He was the real problem for you here. Having thick arms, bulky shoulders, and the kind of weight that could crack bone if hit in the right place. You ducked, using your smaller frame to slide around him and catch him off balance. You went for his knees, aiming a kick to the back of one. He faltered and gave you the opening to jump onto his back and wrap your arm around his neck in a tight hold. 

His hand shot back, trying to grab you, and he managed to elbow your side hard enough to make you gasp for air. But your grip held, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep you on. You counted seconds, about fifteen seconds, until his legs finally gave, and you released just before he blacked out completely. He just slumped onto the ground, looking like a drunk man after a crazy Saturday night party.

The second guy tried to sneak you from behind, but you turned around just in time. Gripping the front of his shirt, and headbutted him right to his nose, breaking, blood spurting instantly as you hear a gnarly crack. He staggered backward with a groan, hands covering his face, and you ended it with a kick to the side of his knee that buckled him flat to the ground.

All three were down, and you were breathing heavy, knuckles sore, the ache from that first punch settling into your jaw. You wiped the blood at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, turning your head slowly.

Donovan hadn’t moved, just standing there as he watched his plan fail within three minutes. Probably expected them to jump you fast and leave you crying for help.

“You fucking idiot,” you muttered under your breath, walking toward him. His cocky expression faltered as he tried acting all friendly now. He still thought he could talk his way out of it. “Hey, listen—”

You weren’t hearing any of it as your hand grabbed his wrist and twisted fast, too fast for him to register what was happening until you heard the pop out of its socket. He screamed and began panicking like the first time you met him.

You stepped in closer, inches away from his face, while fury coated your voice.

“You really thought that was gonna work?” you asked, twisting again just enough to make his knees buckle lower. “Three guys, on the sidewalk, taking me on? That’s your plan?”

“I—wait—Y/n, c’mon—”

You heard another crack as you took his other arm, faced his palms up, and punched his elbow with enough force that broke his arm. He dropped to the ground with a sharp sob, curling around the pain. His legs trembled beneath him.

“I should’ve done that yesterday,” you spat.

A few passing cars honked in the distance, someone muttered something on the opposite sidewalk, but no one stopped. No one was dumb enough to involve themselves in this area, but some people would be smart enough to call the cops. So you had to get out of the area as fast as possible.

Dragging him up by his shirt collar, you pulled his limp body to the passenger side of Rai’s BMW, opened the door, and shoved him inside like garbage. He moaned, trying to clutch his arm, but the two broken limbs made it impossible. You didn’t even care about any blood coating you… Or him, in all honesty, but you warned him, yet Rai wouldn’t be happy with his little stunt either way.

“Don’t bleed on the seats,” you warned.

You drove straight to the warehouse. The sound of your foot against the pedal and Donovan groaning quietly in the seat beside you, every bump had him sounding like a soundboard noise in pain.

When you pulled up and parked, you got out and walked to the other side. Ripped the door open and grabbed him by the collar again, hauling him out.

Rai stood near the entrance, cigarette between his fingers, already waiting. You tossed Donovan forward like trash day came early. “Here’s your boy,” you said, dusting your hands off. “He’ll need a doctor. Or don’t. Up to you.”

Rai blinked, exhaled smoke through his nose. “Broken wrist?”

“And both arms.”

“…Damn.” You just rolled your eyes. “Next time he pulls this shit, I’ll break his legs too.”

You spit right beside him, the metallic taste of blood leaving your mouth as you went over to the car to get your bag and walk home.

Two weeks went by, and Sophia could admit that everything had been going smoothly. You were both down to the final stretch of your project, with only the acting portion left to do at the end of the month.

And safe to say… she’d started liking having you around. Maybe not in a head-over-heels romantic way, but there was definitely something there. That she even believed to be mutual, especially in the way she would catch you staring sometimes.

She even caught herself changing in a way she wasn’t expecting.

Every time you came over, Sophia found herself preparing like she was about to go on a date instead of a project. She’d hop in the shower the second she got home, scrubbing her skin like she needed to get rid of every spec of dirt she felt on her body. Then she’d do her hair, careful to make it look effortless, like it was naturally that way, but still stylish. 

Her regular routine makeup would then follow next making her look much fresher rather than looking like the school air attacked her throughout the day. A touch more gloss, a little more highlight on her cheekbones. She’d make sure her lips looked much more plump to the point they were kissable.

And the comfy clothes got... comfier. Sweatpants were replaced with booty shorts that clung onto her thighs, tank tops cropped shorter with thinner fabric, just enough to maybe catch her bra peeking through.

Still, even with all that effort, seducing you wasn’t exactly the priority. That wasn’t what was on her mind when you were around.

Because during those late-night sessions and snacks in her house library, Sophia started noticing small things. The kind most people wouldn’t catch unless they were looking too closely.

Like the faint bruises, hidden under a layer of foundation, where a bluish shadow near your jaw could be seen. The purplish-yellow spots that faded around your knuckles. Tiny cuts near the corners of your lips, sometimes barely noticeable unless you stare blatantly at your lips.

She wasn’t stupid; you were clearly getting into fights. Multiple at that, and from the way you moved, you didn’t want her to notice.

Sophia knew better than to ask anyways. You weren’t close enough for her to pry, and she wasn’t sure what answer she’d even want from you if she did.

She wasn’t even sure if she should be concerned… because you being roughed up was the reason why this sexual attraction came up in the first place. Like Lara said, you were ten times hotter, and it almost made her feel guilty.

Sophia should act like a normal human being and care, maybe even ask if you were okay, but it just never came out.

While you sat cross-legged on the chair, scribbling down notes for the script, Sophia’s mind had drifted somewhere else. Once you glanced up, you caught her staring blankly at her laptop screen, eyebrows lightly pinched like she was deep in thought, but definitely not about the project.

Leaning forward slightly, you tilted your head to get closer to her line of sight. “Miss Sophia the First?” you asked, your voice teasing, just inches from her face.

She jolted in her seat, eyes growing wide. “Jesus,” she muttered, trying to play it off while she raked her fingers through her hair, smoothing it down even if it didn’t even need fixing.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you chuckled, watching her fiddle around longer than anticipated. “You didn’t,” she insisted, brushing it off way too quickly.

You tilted your head, unconvinced but amused. “Right. Totally.”

She kept her eyes on the screen, but you could feel something looming in the back of her mind. You weren’t sure if she wanted to talk about it, but you didn’t see the harm in asking.

“What were you thinking about?” you asked, leaning back, casually counting off the instances in your head. “This is what? The fifth time you’ve spaced out today?”

“It’s nothing,” she said with a quick shake of her head, though you could see whatever was still weighing in her mind through her hardened face.

“Nothing, in girl code,” you said, tapping your pen against your knee, “means there’s absolutely something. So spit it out, Lafortezza.”

She sighed like she didn’t want to ask. “What do you do for work?” she finally said, voice a bit too quick, the question had been rehearsed in her head several times before she just spat it out of her system.

You blinked at the sudden change. It wasn’t a surprise to normal people. You hadn’t exactly been subtle with the bruises. The makeup was there mainly for professors, so Sophia wasn’t who you were hiding it from.

“Just some dangerous stuff,” you answered vaguely, offering a shrug like it was no big deal.

“Is it boxing?”

“No.”

“Wrestling?”

“No.”

“Are you selling drugs?”

You snorted, caught so off guard by that one, you nearly gave yourself whiplash trying to look at her. “What—? No, Sophia. I’m not selling drugs.”

She frowned, her concern written all over her face. “Then why are you hurt every day?”

Her voice was softer this time, in a more careful tone. You felt your heartbeat quickening as her eyes searched yours. That worry she voiced was real as her eyes pleaded.

“I just work in a dangerous environment, Sophia. I promise, it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“But what if you get hurt… like really hurt next time?” she asked, rubbing at her arm like she was comforting herself as much as she was asking the question. You smiled gently, touched by the concern. “Then I’ll deal with it,” you said. “This is the work I chose to do. So whatever happens, I have to handle it.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes dropping. She knew you were old enough to make your own decisions, but still, seeing the aftermath of whatever life you were living made her stomach twist a little more each time.

The secret was how it also riled her up, the vibe causing her to find you even sexier than the first time her eyes laid on you.

“I get it,” she murmured, backing off, letting it settle.

There was a pause before she cleared her throat, trying to move on. “Uhm, Lara’s having a party this weekend.”

You raised a brow. “Are you just telling me… or are you inviting me?”

She immediately started waving her hands in a panic, the words tumbling out fast. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to come!” You burst out laughing at her reaction, watching her release a huff into a pout. “I’d love to go. Just text me the details.”

A soft little “yeah” slipped from her lips, her face still slightly pink as she turned her attention back to the script, trying to bury her fluster in the keyboard.

You scooted your chair closer, peering over her shoulder to read what she was typing. The chair let out a small creak, and you leaned in without thinking, voice near her ear.

“Are all the stage directions written down?”

Sophia froze, her fingers pausing mid-keystroke. You were so close, like a literal inch from her face. Close enough that she could smell your perfume, which smelled of citrus, and feel the faint brush of your breath against her shoulder.

“Yeah,” she managed, voice shaky as her hands started fumbling across the keys. So much typing, backspacing, retyping again.

“And all the notes are in?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool. Email it in, then we’re done.”

There was a lightness in your voice that she hadn’t heard before. A kind of happiness she had never realized you were capable of expressing.

But then a thought hit her, this was almost over. The project, the only way to see you every day, the shared late nights, the quiet moments, and the banter were all about to end. After this, you’d go back to your usual schedule. Showing up in school only when it was necessary, and seeing you every now and then in the school’s common area instead of sitting next to you in class.

Sophia didn’t want that, and inviting you to Lara’s party was only a step into seeing you more often out of a serious setting. It was a way to keep you around, but only for one night, and that wasn’t enough.

She had to find another way. A way that made it clear she wanted to see you more, and hoped that maybe you wanted to see her more, too.

The two of you kept working, in silence, as you reached the final stretch. Luckily, just before the clock hit 10 PM, the document was attached to a quick email, your name typed on the subject line, and sent off to your professor for the night.

You started packing up your things in a slow manner, your hands moving absentmindedly as your attention drifted to Sophia. She closed her laptop and let out a quiet sigh, sliding down in her chair until her head leaned back and lightly touched the backrest.

“So, what are your plans for tonight?” you asked, the words slipping out without thinking.

She turned to look at you, caught off guard for a second. You couldn’t see her struggling not to say something like ‘oh, just lying in bed and texting the group chat about you.’

“I might watch a movie?” she finally spoke. “I’m not too tired yet.” You nodded, slinging a strap of your bag over your shoulder. “It is Friday. I’ll probably knock out later than usual anyway.”

“What are you planning on watching?” you asked, finishing up the last zipper of your bag. Sophia, not prepared for a follow-up question, blurted out the first movie that popped into her mind. “Train to Busan.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at her. “Train to Busan?”

She gave a half-shrug, trying to play it cool. You thought it seemed a little out of character for her, not seeing her as the horror type, but you did love that movie.

“That’s actually one of my favorite zombie movies,” you said with a hint of surprise in your tone. She perked up instantly, straightening in her chair. “You like zombie movies?” You nodded, sliding your phone into your pocket. “It’s one of my favorite genres for movies and shows. Like ‘Kingdom?’ Top tier.”

Her whole face lit up at the mention of the show. “I love ‘Kingdom’ too!”

You smile at her enthusiasm. “Well, maybe we can rewatch it together sometime.” She paused. Then, immediately asks, “Are you busy tonight?”

You shook your head, brow furrowing slightly at the sudden question. “Not really. Why?”

“Then why don’t you stay for a while?” she offered. “We can watch ‘Train to Busan’ tonight. ‘Kingdom’ can be for another day.”

You could tell she was trying not to sound too excited, but there was a look in her eyes that told you she really hoped you'd say yes. And honestly, you were pleased with the invite. You didn’t have any work tonight, so a quiet night in didn’t sound bad at all.

You gave her a small smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Sophia stood up, stretching her arms up, and began to exit the library. Without hesitation, she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled down the quiet hallway. "Can someone bring up ramen and mango juice again?!" she called out.

Her voice echoed down the hall before you heard a muffled ‘okay’ from the lower level of the house. Sophia turned back to you with a smirk. "Hope you can handle spice."

You scoffed, raising a brow. "I can." There was a tone of confidence that just made her grin wider. "Alright then! Add the whole packet of spicy sauce to both!" she shouted once more.

Then she led you to her room, walking further down the corridor. You trailed behind her, and the faint sounds of your footsteps could be heard until she opened a large white door. "Come on in."

The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the soft scent of… jasmine? It’s subtle enough that taking a deep breath wouldn’t hurt your head. Your eyes begin to scan the room, seeing a minimalist aesthetic to it. The walls were a pure white, not a speck of dirt in sight. Some greenery in grey stone pots added some color to the room. 

Against one wall was a large vanity with a bunch of bulbs surrounding the mirror, its table full of high-end makeup brands and gold-handled brushes that were organized. It looked like a luxurious beauty store. A plush light pink egg chair is placed in front of it, and it looks extremely comfy.

Across the entrance of the room, her bed stands out from the entire space. It was king-sized, with a modern bedframe in white. Champagne-colored satin sheets shining due to the lights. Lying over the top was a massive, fluffy comforter in a baby blue that looked like it could swallow. The pillows were fluffed, unlike your wilting, lifeless pillows at home.

Facing the bed directly was a large flat-screen TV that was mounted on the wall. It legit looked like a Pinterest picture in real life. You couldn’t help but wonder if this room was purely for sleep or if she actually hung out in it like a normal person.

"Take a seat. Get comfy," she said, already sliding into the bed. She sank beneath her comforter with her head slightly peeking out while her hands reached for the remote like muscle memory.

She looked cute, but that wasn’t something that would come out of your mouth. Not to Sophia at least… yet.

You hesitated for a second before sitting on the edge of the bed, rigid and upright, looking stiff as a board. You didn’t know how to relax in a space this expensive. You were JUST getting used to the library after coming around for two weeks. Maybe you should’ve assumed every room you walked into would feel like a different dimension in the large house.

Sophia didn’t notice at first as she scrolled through the variety of movies and shows, finally clicking on Train to Busan. The lights had already been turned off before the movie started with the use of a damn remote, the only light now beaming from the large screen.

You stayed sitting like that for a good ten minutes, which you were somewhat used to since you would stand in front of Rai that way during reports to him. 

The room was quiet except for the movie, and you watched, but it wasn’t really registering. Because your focus kept drifting to how warm and soft the bed was under you. Meanwhile, Sophia was already snuggling in the comforter. 

Eventually, she side-eyed you and sighed. Your tense posture was physically stressing her out. You looked like you were about to fall off her bed and march out of the room.

"You look like you’re about to fall off," she said, deadpan.

You looked over at her, meeting her gaze briefly before looking back at the TV. "I’m good." She raised a brow, “You’re sitting like I’m gonna bite you.”

"I’m fine," you repeat, but your tone didn’t help you at all.

“Lie back,” she told you, her soft voice sounding like she’s coaxing you, and it was working. You hesitated because something about getting comfortable in her space felt... weird. Like the moment you let your guard down, it would change whatever dynamic you and Sophia had going on.

But you leaned back slowly after taking off your shoes, back finally pressing into the fluffy comforter. Your body feels like it melted straight into the bed. Your legs stretched out beside hers, your brain hyper-aware of where her body was, like a foot away from you under the covers.

Across both your faces, flashes flickered, in what felt like every scene of the movie, as the tensions began rising. People were starting to notice things were off as screams began to come from the back of the train. You could hear the sound of glass breaking and the frantic thump of feet as people ran. The moment always entertained you, no matter how many times it was watched.

You loved it because to you, this was ‘pure cinema.’

Sophia hadn’t moved much, but every now and then, you felt the comforter shift. What you didn’t know was her adjusting to get sneaky glances of you.

You stayed still, eyes glued on the screen, and didn’t say anything. Just as you got used to the position, the door cracked open, and one of the maids came in. She carried a large wooden tray in her hands, two steaming bowls of buldak noodles, and two glasses of mango juice with chopsticks beside them.

"Thank you," Sophia whispered as the tray was set beside the side table near her. She passed you one of the porcelain bowls with chopsticks. Both of you now sitting up as you ate, and the occasional sounds of slurping and coughing from Sophia could be heard.

She was the first to break the silence, reaching for her mango juice after her third bite, eyes watering slightly as she coughed some more into her elbow. “Okay, damn,” she muttered, fanning her mouth. “That spice isn’t playing around.”

You kept eating like it was nothing, taking pretty large bites, and the spice didn’t faze you. Your lips were a little red, but you weren’t huffing and puffing or asking for your glass of juice. Sophia stared, eyes narrowing. “How are you not dying right now?”

You looked at her mid-bite as the noodles drooped over your bottom lips and into the bowl, giving her a simple shrug. “This isn’t that bad.”

“Mild?!” she coughed again, immediately going for another sip of mango juice. “You’re not human.”

You chuckled, setting your bowl back on the tray and asking for your own drink, NOT because it was spicy but because the spice was making you thirsty. “I told you I could handle spice. Besides, this tastes like the pink one.”

Sophia groaned dramatically, setting her bowl down on her lap and leaning back into her mountain of pillows. “You said it so confidently, but I thought you were being cocky.”

You smirked, stretching your legs a bit further under the covers. “I was being for real.”

Her eyes were watery, but she was still adding humor while in slight pain. “I feel like my tongue’s been set on fire. I’m in physical pain right now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, mixing with the low rumble of the movie’s background noise. Sophia grabbed her mango juice again while hissing to get cold air. “This better not be how I go out,” she said, taking a long sip. “Killed by ramen.”

You give a satisfied smirk, eyes flicking back to the screen. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a eulogy.”

She threw a pillow at you, missing by a mile as it shot past your head and onto the floor. “You’re literally the worst.” But she was smiling, still with tears in her eyes and the slight sweat on her brow.

Time ticked by, and the silence was there again after both of you finished the ‘bowls of pain’ in Sophia’s words. While your attention stayed mostly glued to the movie of interest, Sophia just couldn’t stop looking at you. Her eyes would glance to the side every now and watch how the TV cast a glow across your features. Highlighting your cheekbones, casting shadows along your jawline, and each scene reflecting through your eyes.

But then, the movie reached that scene.

The one where the father, Seok-woo, held his daughter close as he sacrificed himself to save her. His face was bloody and broken after everything they’d been through on the train. Then cued the slow music, adding to the drama of the scene. You had watched the movie many times, to the point where you didn’t cry during the sad moments anymore. But as you watched, you heard a soft sniffle.

You turned your head slightly, finding a single tear streaming down Sophia’s cheek, a crystal-like path layered above her skin like glass. The light from the screen made it shimmer, and oddly enough, there was something heartbreakingly beautiful about it. Her lips trembled just a little. Her brows furrowed, her subtle expression twitching every time she hitched a breath.

You didn’t even think about anything, as your body moved on its own. You push yourself over to the right and carefully lean over the upper half of her body. Gently, your thumb grazed the tear off her cheek, as your other arm settled right beside her head as you hovered over her.

Sophia’s eyes widened, lashes fluttering as her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but nothing would come out properly.

Your hand, for some reason, caressed her cheek and kept its spot. Your fingers shifted slightly, brushing the side of her jaw now as neither of you looked away. Sophia was scared that if she did, none of this would be real.

The space between you felt thinner while the noise of the movie started becoming nothing but background sound as the two of you lay there, like time had paused.

Her breath was shallow, and yours wasn't much steadier. And in that quiet moment, her face leaned just a little closer. So did yours.

You couldn’t process pulling away, and instead, your body leaned in more comfortably as your hand lingered on her jaw, heart thudding loudly in your ears.

Then your lips connected, the soft bond of the kiss. Her lips were warm, pillowy, still tasting like a hint of mango and spice. There was a second where neither of you moved, just letting it all happen.

She tilted her head slightly, deepening it as her hand grasped your wrist, not wanting you to move away. You exhaled into the kiss, pressing in a little more as you let your body rest on top of hers, chest brushing against each other. The comforter shifted between your bodies as the two of you kept tilting heads wanting more, the flicker of the movie dancing across your closed lids and warm skin.

There felt like a shared illusion that time was holding still. Sophia’s thumb grazed along the inside of your wrist, slowly trailing down to your waist. Her breath was warm against your skin when the kiss finally softened again, slowing but not stopping, like neither of you knew how to break away from each other.

But then the TV let out a scream, maybe a line of dialogue, and just like that, you pulled away. You were both catching your breath, lying back down into your original positions as you stared at the screen with heavy breaths filling each other's ears.

Neither of you said a word.

Sophia swallowed hard, eyes staring back at the screen as if nothing had happened, but her mind was clearly spinning. She wanted to ask or say something, like wanting to know what it meant, if anything. But she felt tongue-tied as her body remained still, as if she could pretend it didn’t just happen… or that it did, and she was still in it.

You couldn’t handle the silence or the weight that began to settle on your chest.

It felt like everything happened so fast. One moment you were watching, the next you were eating, then you were sucking each others faces off. For once, the confidence left your body, and you didn’t know how to function… and that in itself scared you more than any fight you had ever been in.

So, after a moment, you sat up. The warmth of the comforter was gone, and the shift in weight on the bed made Sophia subtly flinch as you stood up from your spot.

“I should head out,” you said, your voice trying to sound calm.

Sophia nodded, her expression unreadable. She wanted to say something to make you stay, or just talk about it, but nothing right came out. “Okay,” she said quietly, almost like it hurt to respond.

You grabbed your bag with unsure hands, walking toward the door like the air had turned thicker around you. You couldn’t even dare look back at her because you felt like a wuss for not speaking up for yourself.

Your thoughts were everywhere. Confusion and hope that almost made you start hyperventilating as you walked out of the room. Hope that Sophia feels it too, maybe of you not ruining something by crossing a line.

The hallway felt colder on the way out as your fingers clenched the strap of your bag tighter than usual, trying to stop thinking about it. But Sophia basically imprinted herself in your mind, her breath, her lips, the way she didn’t pull away.

Meanwhile, Sophia sat there long after you were gone, as the movie's ending credits began running. Her lips still tingled while admitting to herself that she wanted more. That much was obvious.

But she didn’t know what you wanted. And she was afraid to ask. Because rejection wasn’t scary. If anything, it was a part of life, but rejection from you made her assume it would crush her and take a long time to recover.

Her fingers brushed the spot you’d been just moments ago, where the warmth of your body still lingered even with a blasting AC in her room. It was stupid to hold onto it, because maybe the kiss was just a kiss.

Her thumb moved up toward her lips, pressing against the bottom softly—still able to feel the phantom weight of yours on them. 

She’d tried to make herself more noticeable, choosing risque ways like skimpier outfits at home, applying thick coats of gloss. But she hadn’t expected it to work, and had you kissed her in a way that felt so natural. Not how it somehow made her breath catch in her throat.

But what hit her harder than the kiss itself was how fast you left. The feeling was too much.

Sophia turned her head toward the TV again, only to realize the movie had ended and was now stuck on the menu. Her heart still beating quickly for her to even care, so she turns off the TV to let her thoughts simmer.

Maybe she’d misread everything. A heat-of-the-moment type of deal. But it didn’t feel that way when you wiped her tears and stayed hovering just inches over hers, gaze flicking between her lips and eyes like you couldn’t decide what part of her to focus on.

…Yeah, no matter what way Sophia tried to twist the narrative in her head, it just wasn’t helping her feelings. In fact, it was driving her mad in the way she tried denying her blooming crush for you.

She sighs, turning over to bury her face into the pillow that still smells faintly of you. Sophia knew she wasn’t going to sleep right away as she kept replaying the way you looked at her right before the kiss, and the way your breathing stuttered for half a second after your lips brushed hers.

You, on the other hand, speed walked without even thinking about what direction your legs were taking you at first. You weren’t the type to run away from your feelings. Especially, not when someone had just kissed you like that, and not when it felt that good.

Hell, you had made out with Manon multiple times, and that surely felt good. Even going way further than kisses, to her being completely undressed beside you.

But your head was spinning, and you didn’t know what to do with it. The chill of the night didn’t even bother you. Instead, it was waking you up, helping calm your body down before you could spiral any more.

You shoved your hands into your jacket pockets, heart still racing as you walked through the quieter streets of town and down the block toward your place.

The memory of her lips on yours wouldn’t go away, not even for a second. Yet you didn’t want it to.

Even stepping into your house didn’t do much. The usual clanking of your dad’s alcoholism would usually have you feeling irritated as your mother tried acting as if everything was normal, but you just walked upstairs to your room and shut your door.

Swinging your back against the wall, you took off your jacket and crashed onto your bed while your knees hung off the side. You were usually better at controlling yourself. It was quite literally part of your job to do so, or else you would go insane with the possibility of beating someone to death.

She didn’t know what kind of life you lived. Yeah, she was smart enough to figure out bits and pieces, but not the full scope of things. 

You were okay with being friends with her, but her getting involved with you could be dangerous. It made you think of the way you woke up sometimes with blood still under your nails, or how your ribs still ached if you pressed on them wrong. Even aspects of your life at home.

It was something you didn’t ever want to burden anyone with. The job and school were your escape for that reason.

So a kiss like that would scare the hell out of you. Because it felt too good and with a pristine person, which didn’t make you feel any better.

You hadn’t even said goodnight, and it made you want to punch yourself. 

‘What the hell am I gonna do?’

It had been five long days since you left Sophia’s room and shut the door. You couldn’t even fathom returning to school after that Friday. You did not want to avoid her, but also couldn’t fathom seeing her or saying anything.

Luckily, you were known to not show up on campus unless something important needed to be done, and there were two weeks before performances were happening. So, you stuck to what you knew best. Instead of staying home like a regular person, faking a sickness, or lying about classes to their parents, you buried yourself in work.

Rai didn’t question the sudden amounts of availability in your schedule. If anything, this was something that would work in his favor, giving you many of the dangerous jobs with your high success rates. It was basically back to normal, the late nights, money exchanges, and bloodied knuckles. One of the things on the list of priorities you’d have would be stopping by campus, and sliding assignments under the professor’s office doors in manila folders with your name neatly written across the top. 

You’d show up for about twenty minutes max, showing up to about six offices around the building, then go right back to the warehouse. Sometimes you’d sit around pretending to read, headphones in, jaw clenched tight enough to pop as your mind drifted to space.

Trying to get Sophia out of your head was literally mission impossible. It seemed like everywhere you looked or focused, on reminded you of her. Which made you want to scream at yourself because some things were just so far-fetched, your mind just clinging onto the idea of her.

Like when you saw a bunch of teens eating ice cream, one of them having a tall strawberry cone while walking home. THE COLOR PINK WAS MAKING YOU THINK OF HER.

So, you thought of distracting yourself in another way, and it was by doing what you were best at.

Hitting people, who deserve it, of course, extremely hard. And now with thoughts spiraling in your head, you lacked a tad bit of self-control, which was out of the norm for you.

But it seemed like out of the norm was the pattern for the past few weeks.

So when Thursday night hit the calendar, you and Manon had a drop scheduled at one of Rai’s partner clubs. These were clubs Rai did business with caution and the safety of his employees. This one in particular was one of those neon-lit places that always smelled like sweat, money, and a lot of perfume since women seemed to like the aesthetic of the place. 

It wasn’t your favorite location, preferring the clubs that took place on rooftops for fresh air, but this was a job that had to be done. It was all about business anyways.

Manon wore a black halter mini dress in the color black that looked sleek and showed enough skin, just the way Rai preferred her to wear during these meetings. You hated that part because even with the friends-with-benefits dynamic going on, she is still your friend. The men who bought from your boss rarely treated the transaction like it was purely business with you, now could you even imagine how Manon’s transactions would go with those kinds of men?

Your eyes were sharp the moment you walked in, trailing behind her so the customer wouldn’t notice, watching every movement of the client she was meeting. Rai had given you the rundown on this guy. He’s a new possible client and is trying out the product for the first time. Apparently, just a curious rich brat from uptown looking to "feel something real."

Well, you weren’t liking what he was beginning to feel. Although even if this place was one of Rai’s business partners, it was still open to the general public—no moves were made by you.

It started with him leaning in too close, whispering some things to her in her ear as she visibly shudders at the feeling of his breath, and not in a good way. He chuckled too much as he made obscure gestures with his hands.

Then he moved it to her hip, and you watched her shift uncomfortably. Manon gave a visibly forced laugh, eyes flicking up to you as she subtly took a step to the side to try and create some distance between them. The small look wouldn’t have been caught by him, but you noticed.

Your jaw locked as your knuckles twitched into a fist. She gave you the same look that she usually did when she figured a guy was gonna be a problem. So when you see her locking eyes with you, you give her the smallest nod and look over to the back. Manon received it well and knew what she had to do.

She played it perfectly by smiling sweetly, murmuring something about somewhere quieter. He followed, like the idiot you assumed he was. Guys like this were drunk on their own audacity instead of alcohol.

You followed behind them, and one of the club’s bouncers glanced your way, then looked away just as fast. Rai’s reputation was enough to keep people from asking questions. That and the fact that he paid the club well for instances like this.

Once Manon lured him into the narrow hallway near the back storage room, she stopped walking. He turned to face her, a tipsy grin on his face, thinking he was about to get lucky tonight.

That’s when you march past the two of them, grabbing him by the collar in the process as you walk further back.

Before he could get a word out, you slammed him into the wall. His head thudded hard enough to echo.

"Hey! What the—"

Your fist cut him off, a punch landing across his jaw. The second one then hit his nose hard, and it was too quick for him to even react properly. You didn’t stop, and without hesitation, your fists began a vicious beatdown on him. Like every thought about Sophia—the memory of her laugh, the way she looked at you before you kissed her, the sting of her silence after—was fueling each hit.

Blood began coating your knuckles, even staining your arm and the collar of your shirt as he jerked around after each hit. He tried to block it, tried to sputter out some sorrys, but you didn’t care to stop.

"Don’t ever—" You landed another punch. "—touch her—" And another. "—like that again."

It wasn’t even about Manon anymore. It was about every second of that kiss haunting you. The time that passed while pretending it didn’t mean anything when it meant so fucking much.

Eventually, Manon stepped forward, her voice cutting through the haze. "Okay. That’s enough."

You didn’t hear her.

"Hey—hey," she grabbed your wrist, firm but not rough. "It’s done. Come on." You were breathing hard, the man slumped on the floor, face engulfed in swollen flesh, with blood dripping from his nose and mouth. His groans were low, incoherent, and you looked down at your hand, bloodied and trembling slightly, then at Manon.

Her face wasn’t even angry, just worried.

You stayed silent, fists still balled, adrenaline pulsing as she led you through the back exit of the establishment. Manon looked over at you, eyebrows raised. "You good?" You exhaled through your nose, finally letting your muscles relax. "Yeah."

She tilted her head slightly. "You’ve been hitting harder lately."

"Just needed to let something out."

Her eyes lingered on you for a second too long. She knew you well by now and knew that even if someone touched her that way, you wouldn’t beat them almost half to death. This was about something completely different. 

You hated that even now, in the middle of blood and bruises, you still thought about Sophia. Because now, you were beginning to feel dirty when mixing those thoughts. She was too precious in comparison to the lifestyle you lived.

Manon did her best to lead you through the parking lot toward the car without anyone seeing you. If anyone did, they would call the cops at the slightest look at your hand. You willingly get into the driver's seat and start the car even before Manon takes a seat in the passenger seat.

Before moving, you get some baby wipes out of the center console, wiping all the fluid off your hands. Then you move the gear shift and begin reversing out of the spot before driving back to the warehouse.

The ride back was quiet, you had one hand on the wheel, the other still stained with dried blood, wrapped loosely in a towel, Manon kept in the glovebox. She was able to put it on during a red light, seeing your hands looking incredibly swollen as your veins popped through.

She waited a minute before speaking. "You gonna tell me what’s going on or do I have to guess?" You didn’t answer. "You don’t usually go that far… unless something’s seriously eating you." You gritted your teeth. Eyes locked on the road.

"It’s Sophia, isn’t it?"

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel. She exhaled, not surprised at the name, but surprised at how much the woman affected you. "Did something happen?"

You didn’t say anything again. "Let me guess," she continued. "Something did. And now you’re pretending it didn’t." Your consistent silence was enough confirmation. Manon shifted in her seat to face you better, her voice softer this time.

"You don’t have to tell me the whole story. But whatever it is, bottling it up and using some poor bastard’s face as a punching bag isn’t gonna help."

You finally spoke, barely above a whisper. "I kissed her." Manon looked confused but tried to understand. "Okay."

"And then I left. Didn’t say anything. Haven’t talked to her since." She nodded slowly, processing. "Did she kiss you back?" You hesitated. Then nodded.

"Then why are you running from it like it’s a goddamn plague?"

Your jaw clenched. You didn’t have an answer you liked. "Because it felt like something," you admitted, voice tight. "And I wasn’t ready for that." Manon sighed, leaning back comfortably against the seat. "Life is all about never being ready for things like that, Y/n. You know that better than I do."

The rest of the drive passed in silence again. When you finally pulled into the lot outside the warehouse, Manon reached for the door but stopped.

"You should talk to her. Before it starts eating you alive, please. Miss Sophia may have won you over, but you're still my friend, and I care about you." You barely give her a nod, but she saw it.

“Good. Let me know when you do, because I want to hear all about the woman who was successful enough to have your heart in a bunch.”

She shuts the door, and you now begin sitting back, thinking about Manon’s advice. Seeing her likely was the best course of action, so you decide to face your problems head-on, like you usually do. You were going to talk to her at the party.

On Friday, you took the opportunity to give Rai a heads up, not be able to come in the next. You didn’t even have to tell him anything, you're still young and he knows the way ‘the youngins’ think, his words, not yours.

After work, you went home, just to lie in bed and think about everything that happened. Your thoughts were just a bunch of storms in your head, which almost got you to sleep for the night. But then you heard a loud crash of glass, followed by a woman’s voice yelling at the top of her lungs.

You jumped up immediately, mainly hoping your sister wasn’t anywhere near it since she would be home for the weekend. The second you cracked open your bedroom door, you saw Zaria, your seventeen-year-old sister, standing at the top of the steps, just listening to all the chaos coming from downstairs.

“Hey, why don’t you just wait in the room just in case?” you said gently, because yelling and making her do it wouldn’t help at all. She nodded without a word, already knowing the drill. If your dad saw her, she’d get dragged into it too, and you wanted to avoid that as much as possible.

You waited until her door shut, then crept down the stairs, trying to assess the situation. The crash was your dad falling straight onto the glass coffee table. Now it shattered beneath him, and he was clearly drunk as he lay there limp.

Meanwhile, your mother looked like she was in the middle of having an episode. It probably started as soon as he walked through the front door, triggering something from an old argument.

You rush back up and into their bedroom and grab her medication, your hands moving without even thinking due to muscle memory. When you ran back downstairs, she looked at you with eyes wide and on edge, but you gave her the softest smile you could manage.

“Mom, it’s time for your medicine, okay?”

At first, she shook her head no furiously, backing away slightly, but you’d been through this before. It was exhaustion and fear that made her uncooperative. In a gentle voice, you tell her, “Once you take these, you can go to bed. I’ll deal with Dad.”

You held out the pills in the palm of your hand, and after a long moment, she finally nodded.

“Alright,” she murmured, taking them and washing them down with water from the cup on the counter. Like a switch flipped in her head, she turned and headed upstairs, her movements a little shaky but steady enough.

You followed the walk under the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room and stood there, just staring at your father. Laid out across broken glass, out cold and acting like his useless self. At least there wouldn’t be yelling or any violence tonight. You sighed, rolled up your sleeves, and began fixing what you could.

It took all your strength to lift his heavy body and dump him onto the couch. He groaned at his landing, but you ignored it. Your only priority was to clean up the mess he made because it was going to be an eyesore.

You headed to a storage closet and pulled out a clear plastic trash bag. It was one of the unused ones for recycling plastic and metal. You picked up the larger shards of glass by hand, moving carefully, then grabbed the broom to sweep up the rest from the wooden floor.

You made a mental note to remind your mom and Zaria to wear slippers around the house until you could mop and vacuum again—just in case. After tossing the shards into the recycling bin outside, you finally trudged back upstairs and lay down, eyes wide open, trying your best to just breathe. 

You guessed it was enough to go to bed, because the next morning, you woke up abruptly from the sound of a large truck honking past your house.

Before realizing how much time had passed, you’d already taken a long shower, just relaxing your tense body against the hot water. You did some light makeup, mostly to cover the remnants of past fights still on your skin. The coverage is just enough to make you look more lively. Then you changed into something comfy but stylish enough not to look like your normal plain self.

Your phone buzzed just as you were tying your shoes.

Sophia see u there *location pin dropped*

You blinked at the message, no “hey,” or “r u still coming?” Her playful emojis weren’t there, causing the nerves to rack up as you stared at the address. Tapping on the pin she sent, you realize the party was happening just a few blocks from her place. You should’ve guessed that was the case since her friends are theeeeee rich girls on campus.

At least it’s a route you've come to be familiar with.

You walked down the warehouse to text Rai about borrowing a car again. Luckily, this man never cared due to the number of cars he owned, because he just gave you a thumbs up as a response. You chose the BMW you had used previously, and forty minutes later, you were pulling into the neighborhood, as you looked for the right house. You didn’t have to look hard, though.

Cars were already lined up along the front entrance of a house and even into the spacious lawn. Everyone parked like they were playing Tetris, and you knew it was going to be a pain to leave your spot, so you opted for a spot outside of the gate. Music was vibrating faintly through the pavement from the outside of the house. You then rolled up the windows all the way before parking, trying to psych yourself up while your stomach rolled with nerves.

The house itself reminded you of a modern version of Sophia’s home with the white, grey, and black colors spanning across the exterior of the house. Seemed like a rentable Airbnb for parties like this, but you could only assume this was actually Lara’s home.

A guard stood by the front door… of course, there was a guard. He didn’t move at first, just stared you down until you got closer. Then he glanced at his clipboard. “Name?”

You almost laughed, the moment feeling ridiculous like you were on a job at one of those nightclubs. But you said your name anyway, half-expecting to be turned away because this just wasn’t your kind of scene.

The parties you were used to were the ones at Rai’s warehouse, when all coworkers would become friends for the night.

Instead of being turned away, he gave a short nod and stepped aside. “You’re on the list.”

Of course you were. Sophia probably pulled some strings on that list. When stepping inside, immediately hit by the overwhelming bass of the loud music, scents of perfume, sweat, and weed mixing in the air. People were going in every direction, some teens doing shots in their little corner, guys doing way too much on the dance floor, and girls holding up their phones under the colorful lights to get the perfect angle for their stories. 

You had to blink a few times to adjust to everything happening.

Your job is probably much more chaotic, but it isn’t chaotic fun like this. This was much more anxiety-inducing than you expected. You took one step forward, and even before you could make any sensible movement, “Holy shit.” A blur of movement, as someone bumped into you, then paused. Sophia told you a bit about her friends for you to be able to recognize the younger girl, Megan.

Her wide eyes flicked over your face, a grin stretching across her lips. “Wait. Wait, Y/n?” You gave a half-smile. “Yeah.”

“I haven’t seen you for some time, Dani looks a bit lonely surrounded by all the dance majors,” she joked, nudging your shoulder lightly. “You clean up nice.”

“Thanks,” you said, chuckling once under your breath. She glanced around, then leaned in a bit. “Looking for Sophia?” You hesitated. “Sort of. But a drink would be nice first.”

“Kitchen’s through there,” she pointed down a hallway to your left. “Fridge is stocked with beers, seltzers, and everything.”

“Noted,” you nodded, already making your way through the crowd. You weave between people like until you reach the kitchen, which was still full, but not as packed as the main room. At least it had lighting that didn’t make you feel like you were in a music video. You tugged the fridge open, eyes skimming past lines of beers and hard seltzers.

None were for your taste, not exactly a big fan of the strong liquors. Then, rows of Buzzballs were near the bottom shelf. You grabbed one instantly, flipping the small blue ball-shaped can in your hand. Better than whatever beer and other options were in there. It was at least sweet to cut through the alcohol.

You cracked it open, letting the fizz rise, then took a long sip. It was helping the heavy feeling on your chest relieve itself, even if it was still there. You then begin looking around, realizing that somewhere in the crowd was the woman you came here for.

Sophia wasn’t the type to check her phone obsessively. At least, not until this past week.

When she sent you the text a few hours ago, she caught herself unlocking the screen just to stare at the “read” receipt under her last message, and she hated the feeling. Sophia Laforteza wasn’t someone who got nervous; if anything, she was headstrong.

But when she saw the little “read at 7:09 PM,” she clutched her cranberry vodka a little tighter. School should’ve been normal, she literally only met you recently. Yet every class was a blur, the corridors felt much emptier, and even her friends couldn’t get her out of the rut she was in. Sophia wasn’t able to focus on anything properly, and Miss Perfect was showing signs of cracking because of you.

Lara and Yoonchae were in their own little world beside her, laughing at something stupid, and for a second, Sophia managed a ghost of a smile. Then Megan appeared out of nowhere, swinging her drink around with so much energy as she leaned in.

“Guess who I just saw,” she grinned, her voice practically teasing. Lara was the first to bite. “Oh no. Who?” Megan swirled the cup, teasing the girls a bit. “Y/n.”

Sophia blinked, confused for a second until it hit her. Her heart did that annoying skip it always did when it came to you, and her eyes darted to Megan like they needed confirmation. “You saw her?” she asked, way too quickly.

Megan nodded, grinning widely. “She went to the kitchen and grabbed a Buzzball. Looked hot, by the way.”

Sophia couldn’t breathe for a second until Lara nudged her gently. Yoonchae, all sweet and too observant when it comes to the older, smiled knowingly. “I think someone’s happy.”

“I’m—” Sophia tried to speak, but her throat felt dry. She took another sip from her red solo cup, but it didn’t help.

What if you were just there for the party? To let loose, escape your job for the night. Meanwhile, you had just finished chugging the last of your first Buzzball, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Your shoulders are now less tense, making the haze of bodies and loud music less suffocating.

You reached back into the fridge and grabbed another. If you were gonna do this tonight, you needed all the liquid courage you could get. You popped it open and muttered to yourself, “Alright. You can do this. No big deal. Just a conversation.”

Just a conversation with the girl you kissed. Who hadn’t texted you anything else all week… Yeah, just a conversation. 

You stepped back into the crowd, scanning. Eyes weaving past couples who were grinding and suckin each other's faces off, people playing drinking games, someone hesitantly trying to do a backflip while people cushioned him. But then, just past the ‘dance floor,’ you saw her.

Sophia was in black jeans and a sleeveless cropped hoodie, holding a red cup while her hair was styled in that effortless, slightly messy ponytail that made your heart quicken because she looked that good without trying.

She looked up and saw you.

Just her eyes locking with yours, widening just a bit. Her eyes were so hopeful, and you could feel it from across the room. So you started walking before you could overthink anything. When you reached her, you didn’t waste time pretending, just blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“Hey,” you said. “Can we talk? Somewhere quieter.”

Her voice caught a little, but she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She grabbed your hand lightly, barely even touching you, and led you upstairs. You kept your eyes forward while she didn’t even look back, but her grip on your hand was telling enough.

Past the noise, the crowds of people, she opened a door to what looked like a spare bedroom. Unused with lights that were dim… a little moody actually, and once she stepped inside with you, she turned the lock behind her.

There wasn’t complete silence, but neither of you had spoken up yet. The bass of the music still vibrated through the floorboards, muffling everyone who yelled over the music. You could kind of hear her exhale. Hear the sounds of your drinks as you both sipped at the same time, nerves kicking all over again.

She stood near the dresser while you hovered near the edge of the bed. Neither of you moved an inch, but you wanted to get this over with. Manon was right, you were going to face the problem and end it, so you wouldn’t go crazy.

“I didn’t come here for the party,” you said, finally meeting her eyes. Sophia’s fingers tightened a bit around her cup. “I mean, technically I did,” you added. “But not for this party. I didn’t even plan on drinking.” You glanced at your half-empty Buzzball. “Clearly that didn’t last.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, but it faded quickly. “I came because of you,” you continued, heart pounding against your chest as you finally let out those words. “Because I’ve been trying not to think about that night. But that’s... not really working out for me.”

Sophia’s lips parted slightly, her breath shallow. She looked like she wanted to interrupt, but she held back her tongue, wanting to hear what you had to say for yourself. “I didn’t know if it meant something to you. I didn’t even know what it meant to me at first. But I keep replaying it in my head several times a day. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since—even with you right in front of me.”

You laughed a bit, sounding dry and nervous. “I guess I just... needed to know if I was the only one feeling that way.”

Sophia finally moved then, stepping a little closer. Her eyes searched your face like she was making sure this was all reality and not her dreams. “You’re not,” she whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

And for a second, the tension grew stronger as she came a bit closer to you. She placed her cup down on the dresser, then reached out, brushing her fingers against yours.

“You left,” she said. “After that night, I waited every day for something. Anything even, because I thought I did something wrong.”

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “You make me nervous.” 

“Good,” she murmured, stepping even closer. “You drive me crazy, you know.”

And just like that, there wasn’t much distance between the two of you anymore. It felt nice, seeing that you were getting somewhere, but your heart did feel like it was about to burst with how fast it was going.

Whatever happened next might be the liquor doing its thing, but neither of you seemed to really care. Drunk thoughts are real thoughts, right? Not that you were drunk, but the Buzzball was definitely helping this go smoothly.

Sophia’s breath hitched when your fingers brushed over hers. Her voice came out a bit louder than the first time she spoke. “You make me nervous, too.”

The confession made your chest feel tight and your skin feel too warm. You tilted your head at her, letting your hand slowly turn to lace fingers with hers. “Good,” you murmured, echoing her from earlier. “Then we’re even.”

There was a flicker in her eyes in some amusement, even maybe some disbelief. Her hand squeezed yours like she needed to make sure this was happening, that you were here, saying this, standing in this room with her, not just rushing out and disappearing again. The space between you started to shorten.

Then her eyes dropped to your lips, and back to your eyes, which could only make you feel giddy. ‘What the hell was even happening at this point?’

Sophia stepped forward, and her body was warm. You could feel the heat of her skin even with clothes still separating you. Her hand moved to your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek like she was trying to memorize your face by touch.

And then, this time, she leaned in and kissed you. This kiss wasn’t as soft as the first one; you felt that she wanted to make it worth it. After what she went through, well, what both of you went through this week, you owed it to yourselves.

You kissed her back roughly and didn't want to let her go as your hands found the sides of her waist and pulled her closer and closer, like it still wasn’t enough. Sophia moaned against your mouth, and something about the sound made you feel dizzy.

She broke the kiss only to speak against your lips, voice husky and uneven. “I thought about this. Ever since I started to get to know the real you.” You swallowed hard, forehead leaning into hers. “Yeah?”

She nodded, her hands sliding around the back of your neck, fingers playing with the hair at your nape. “The way you kissed me that night.”

You let out a shaky breath, pressing your body flush against hers until she backed into the edge of the dresser with her cup on it. Her hands tightened around you as her back hit the wood.

“I’ve thought about you, too.” You kissed her again, harder this time, teeth just slightly catching her bottom lip. Her nails grazed your shoulders through your clothes, and her breath hitched again.

The buildup of tension, frustration, and longing seemed to be catching up as you wanted more of her. You slowly trailed your lips to her jaw, then down to the hollow of her neck, where her skin was already warm. She gasped softly, tilting her head back against the wall. You took your time there, letting your lips graze just enough.

“Screw it,” Sophia whispered breathlessly, her voice ragged. The grin that pulled at your lips was confident. Now this was what you were known to do, but it was different. It was with someone you genuinely liked this time.

You grabbed her by the hips, lifting her onto the dresser effortlessly. She gasped again at the motion, legs parting subconsciously to make space for you between them. Her hands rested on your shoulders, and you could feel them twitching to restrain herself.

Your lips met hers again, much more heated, as one of her hands tangled in your silky hair and the other gripped your shirt like she was holding on for dear life. You let your hand travel up the outside of her thigh, tracing over the denim seam of her jeans, and felt her shiver beneath you.

Sophia’s head tilted to the side, her lips brushing over your jaw. “If you’re trying to drive me insane, congratulations,” she muttered. You chuckled low in your throat, letting your thumb slide just under the hem of her top, grazing the bare skin of her waist. “I haven’t even started yet, and you're already needy.”

She looked down at you then, breathless, eyes heavy, lips red and swollen from kissing. “Then what are you waiting for?”

That was the breaking point. You crashed your lips onto hers again with a groan, hands gripping her thighs as you pressed into her, both needing it right now.

"Can I?" you asked, voice husky, while Sophia looked messy, but she still looked gorgeous in your eyes. She nodded, but you paused with hands on her waist, "Words, baby. I need words."

As you spoke to her, she felt herself being lifted and wrapped her legs around your waist, tight as you settled her onto the large bed.

"You can," your gaze softened, lifting her arms to help her remove the cropped shirt. But there was a shift in your eyes, they darkened as you roamed over her exposed skin, taking in her tan figure that was only covered by a red lacey bra.

Now you weren’t expecting to see such a risque look, but you definitely weren’t going to ruin the moment by saying anything. "Beautiful," you whispered, fingers tracing the curve of her waist. "I can finally show you how much I need you."

You leaned in, pressing your lips on her exposed collarbone, then lower, following the lines of her abs with your mouth. She gave under your touch, the way your lips felt on her just had her melting, wanting to surrender to you completely.

"We can go as slow as you need," you mumbled against her skin, but Sophia seemed to have other plans. "I don't want slow," she admitted, pulling you closer. "I want you."

There was now a smile on your swollen lips—not a playful grin, but something much dirtier. "Then lie back on the bed and let me take care of you."

She complied, watching as you leaned back further to pull your own shirt over your head, revealing more of your tattoos scattered across your ribs and shoulders. Now crawling back onto the bed after throwing your shirt somewhere in the room, you straddle her with a confidence that made her groan at the sight of you on top of her.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," you said, leaning down to kiss her again. "I can't believe you're mine for tonight."

Your words had her shudder a bit as your hands tugged on the waistband of her jeans. Slowly, you unbutton and unzip them to undress her completely, pausing to appreciate her entire body with both your eyes and mouth. "Fucking hell," you quietly sighed as your eyes didn’t stop trailing all over her body. You lick your lips at the sight of her perky breasts.

"Tell me what you want, baby," you whispered with urgency, your breath growing heavier. "Tell me what you need." 

"You," she spat, much more controlling than intended. "Everything. Your hands. Your mouth." You smiled against her skin, "So demanding."

Your lips trailed down her body, every kiss placed softly with intention. The feeling of your fingers exploring her hips had her body feeling on fire. You would caress over every curve until you made your way to her thighs, and she gasped at the touch.

You were on her inner thighs and gave them a kiss before shifting down your entire body. Arms hook under her legs, and she feels your firm hands grip her around the thighs. You didn't even need to do much, and she already felt her core aching, "God, Y/n," she hums lowly.

"Does that feel nice?" you asked, voice breathy and teasing as your fingers traced patterns on her inner thigh. "You like it when I touch you here?"

"Yes," she whined, not even noticing how she squirmed at the feeling. "How about here?" Your fingers inched higher, feeling your fingers right beside her pussy. She whimpers again at the feeling, not being able to trust a word to come out of her mouth.

You laughed softly, "I'll take that as a yes." Mouth replacing your fingers, giving little kisses until you got to her cunt. She sighs at first, your actions having her body relax into the bed. That was until she felt your tongue flick her clit, her body jolting in shock and a sudden moan came out.

She feels you smile as you sucked on her pussy again, "god if I knew how good you tasted, I would've done this a lot sooner instead of thinking so hard."

"Can you shut up a-" she was about to say, but you cut her off as you lick a long strip up her wet core, making her groan. "You're not in control right now, baby. I am."

She feels your tongue go in, and she almost shrieks at the feeling, covering her mouth with both hands. Not even a second on her lips, your hand lifted them off her face. "I wanna hear you," you hummed against her, sending vibrations all over her body, and relentless moaning came about.

"Fuck, Y/n. Feels too good," her breath hitched at the pleasure as she feels her body heating up, sweat beginning to cling to her skin. Her hands found your hair, needing something to anchor herself. You then moved your mouth away, the cold air grazing her wet core.

She looks down, about to complain about the lonesome feeling, until she sees you. Gosh, you looked sexy, gaze droopy as your mouth glistened, covered in her own juices. "I'm not done yet, baby. Don't worry," you said as you felt her tensing at the emptiness.

Your hands went to her pussy, rubbing slow circles around and she can't help but lean her head back. "Shit," she moans, it was slow but it had her throbbing. "You look so good like this under me, Fia," you grunted, and she feels your fingers tease her entrance.

Slowly, you pushed in a finger, and she arched her body up, while feeling the pumping in and out. She crumbles when she hears you speak, "Look at you reacting so well to my fingers." She whimpers as you took your other thumb, rubbing her clit at the same time.

"Y/n," she gasped your name. "More baby, please," she whines, and you sit yourself up a bit. Hands make their way up to her breast, fondling her hard nipples. "How pretty these are," you mumbled, then dove down. Your mouth latched onto them, tongue playing as they flickered while being coated in your saliva. She moaned, wanting more than this.

"Faster, please," she calls out and when looking down, your eyes stuck on her as she sees your lips curving upward despite the continuous sucking. You come up to her mouth, smashing your lips against her. She feels your pace quicken between her legs as she tries to moan, but it was muffled by your needy kiss.

Your fingers slipped in and out, her wetness helping with the quickened pace. "Feel how wet you are for me?" You mumbled against her lips, and she couldn't help but just kiss back in response as her brows furrowed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/n," she begs, shifting her head to the side, the feeling becoming more overwhelming for her to resist. You knew exactly what that meant, moving back down to her pussy. Mouth returning to your spot, tongue sinking back into her core, tongue fucking her until she chokes up a moan. 

"This wet cunt, just for me, hm?" You hummed against her, the vibration adding another layer of sensation. "I've got you," you promised, two fingers joining her mouth in a rhythm that quickly had her cumming.

"Shit, Y/n," she came as your steady hands hold her while she trembled. Before she could fully recover, you moved up her body, capturing her mouth in a kiss that let Sophia taste herself on your lips.

Your eyes fix all over her face, a bit worried, “Feeling okay?” Sophia giggles at the newfound concern you have for her, finding it cute. “I’m more than okay,” she hears a sigh of relief as you lie down next to her, and she feels warm as you wrap an arm around her naked figure.

“What does this mean for us?” Sophia spoke up, unsure if that’s what she should’ve asked after the time you just spent together. You look at her as she stares at the dim ceiling, wanting to tell her the truth.

“I… I want this to be real. But my life is just completely different from yours, Sophia.”

You told her honestly, which made her turn towards you, shaking her head. You stop her from saying anything, “Involving you in my life could be dangerous for you.”

“Then teach me to fend for myself, trust me. Protect me, Y/n,” she told you with authority in her voice. You were slightly taken aback by her passion, but smiled at how badly she wanted this, just as much as you.

“Fine. I’ll do everything in my power, blood, sweat, and tears to make us work,” Sophia smiles at your words. Giving you another kiss before pulling away and just leaning on your frame, head resting on your chest.

“Can we stay like this for now?” She murmurs, and you nod, complying as both arms now wrap around her body, wanting this moment to never end.

“SO WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL US ALL OF THIS?” Lara yells a week later, sitting in the common room area of the building, as Sophia gives her friends the rundown of what happened at the party.

“I just wanted to see where this would all go before I told you guys, okay?” She confesses, gaze drifting toward you as you sat with Daniella again across the room. You laugh about Dani’s mom making fun of her again, which causes you to find Sophia’s eyes.

Smiling at her, you wave as her face goes bright pink. Since that night, you have been making an incredible effort for Sophia. Instead of focusing on your job, you had asked Rai to free up your schedule more. The excuse was that the semester was coming to an end and many exams would be approaching, not want to use Sophia just in case he would say no.

After the party, you had been in school every single day, sitting next to Sophia during classes you shared with her, sharing notes with each other, even bringing her mango juice you would buy every morning before school.

Life seemed to be heading in the right direction for you as well. You were extremely close to buying a good apartment that fit you, Zaria, and your mom with the money you had been saving for the past year.

Thankfully, Rai paid you well, and it wouldn’t take much longer. 

Wednesday night, you even visited the warehouse to report that a client handing over their payment properly, and told Manon about what happened on Saturday. You didn’t go into detail about it, feeling it would be a bit weird to explain how you slept with Sophia… with a person you had slept with in the past.

She was genuinely happy for you, joking a bit, “Well, now that you're off the market, can you introduce me to that Daniella friend of yours?” You nudged her arm and laughed, then talked more about how you felt about Sophia. Manon clearly saw how smitten you are with the Filipina.

She was also a girl’s girl and respected what was happening, so she wasn’t planning on pushing anymore boundaries.

On Thursday, you went over to Sophia’s house, and while spending time with her as she cuddled against your chest, you had told her everything about your life that you possibly could in that moment.

Your job, who you worked for, your situation at home, how you planned on moving out, Daniella being a childhood best friend of yours, and, yes, even about Manon. She stared up at you as you explained each thing, carefully listening to each topic. Sophia didn’t care so much about Manon after learning how emotionally unavailable you were with each other.

It also did help that she was asking soooo many questions about your feelings for her. She would ask when you first started liking her, what kinds of dates you would take her on, and how you would protect her at any moment. Each answer made her heart swell even more for you.

Now the two of you were in school on Friday, and Sophia now had to deal with her friends bombarding her about everything.

“How was it?” Megan asked excitedly as Lara calmed down in her seat. “It was amazing-”

“Are the two of you together now?” Lara butted in, leaning closer to Sophia as the older answered, “Not yet but we’re working on it.”

Megan and Lara were about to ask something again, but Yoonchae beat them both to it first. “Are you happy?”

Now that was a legitimate question that actually made the older smile, just nodding as she kept her head down, a bit embarrassed. Lara and Megan squeal at the reaction while Yoonchae sways in a rhythm, happy that Sophia wasn’t worrying about only being perfect in school anymore.

She now had to think about her feelings for you. If she loved you, when she had to worry about you, the memories she was going to make with you. They were all feelings that made love real and a beautiful thing.

Sophia wouldn’t jump the fence and say she did it out of right love for you, but she was sure that the feeling was close. Because, despite finding the roughed up version of you all hot, she was pleased to see you less hurt in the past few days and just healing up.

“Fia?” She heard to her left, and she looked up to find you. You had this goofy grin on your face, and all she wanted to do was squeeze your cheeks. “Ready for our next class?”

Sophia nodded and got up, collecting her belongings in the process as her friends watched the two of them. You held her hand and waved at her friends, while Sophia told them she’ll be going and how she’ll text them later tonight. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Lara tells the two, and you chuckle as Sophia walks with her head down while you whisk her away to your last class.

Like the past couple of days, you sat down right beside her once you entered the classroom, getting comfortable as you got out your trusty notebook.

“Should we run lines tonight?” You whispered in her ear, and Sophia shuddered at the feeling. “Yeah, my place right after this?” You nodded as you gave her a small peck on the side of your forehead, making her smile like a high schooler who talked to their crush for the first time.

The class was pretty boring, you and Sophia focusing on taking down notes like the studious students you are. The hour passed by quickly, the professor already dismissing everyone and reminding them about the dates of their exams the following week.

Sophia dragged you to the entrance of the school, waving off the attention of random people trying to greet her, only glancing back to make sure you were keeping up before heading toward the parking lot. 

Luckily, her driver was already in front with the big black SUV, standing at the back passenger side like always. Loid, her driver, was dressed in his usual tuxedo and stayed quiet while giving you a polite nod as he opened the door for you both.

“Hey, Loid,” you greeted him with a small smile, sliding into the backseat after Sophia.

He bowed slightly. “Miss L/n.”

The car was comfortable, like usual, since you had been going to Sophia’s place time to time after school. The leather is light brown, the temperature is cool inside, and both of you stayed quiet, just soaking in the silence of the drive after the tons of yapping each professor did in school today.

Your hand found hers instinctively, and Sophia glanced at you, then down at your intertwined hands. Instead of saying anything, she just smiled softly to herself, eyes flicking back out the window. Without warning, Sophia pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and rested her head on your shoulder.

You tried to play it cool, not wanting her to see the way your cheeks were heating up or how much you suddenly couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. You were kind of obsessed with her at this point. And the fact that she hadn’t let go of your hand the whole ride only made you feel all warm inside.

By the time the car pulled up to her house, you had to mentally shake yourself out of your lovesick brain. The school play was already on Monday, and the two of you had to focus and make sure everything was perfect.

Because let’s be real, even when you called Sophia Miss Perfect, you were as well when it came to school, if you removed the fact that you didn’t show up much.

You played Aria, the daughter of a harsh politician, while Sophia played Gina, a girl from a poor family. Think Romeo and Juliet, but make it sapphic and kind of switching your roles in real life.

Gina and Aria weren’t supposed to love each other, and they weren’t even supposed to meet.

But of course, fate would do the exact opposite to them… and of course it ended badly.

You both went into Sophia’s room without saying much, the comfort between you two becoming natural now. She handed you a printed script with notes scribbled in pink pen, then plopped on the edge of her bed with her own marked-up copy that had purple ink instead of pink. The sunset streamed through her window, casting an orange hue on the white walls and floors of the room.

You ran through scenes quickly at first, blocking, line emphasis, and pacing. Sometimes she’d accidentally mix up her lines or stare at you for a little too long and get distracted, but it wasn’t like you were any better. You weren’t exactly immune to her entire existence, and the way she acted almost had you in awe.

Just almost, though, because you also had a slightly massive ego when it came to your own acting, but you wouldn’t even admit that to yourself. Things stayed lighthearted until the final scene.

You barely had to flip to the last page to know the dreaded ending came next. The final confrontation at the pier between Gina and Aria. You, standing behind her, acted torn between staying and finally choosing the life her family expected of her.

Sophia cleared her throat, sitting up straighter while you followed her actions, adjusting yourself because of how serious this was about to be. Sophia then said her lines, “If love is a curse, then I guess I was damned the second I met you.”

Her voice wavered slightly, but she did her best to keep going. “You’ve made my life so much better. Made me feel strong through everything that I was going though.”

You stepped forward slowly, moving according to the light blocking your scripts had assigned, and said your own lines. “Gina… I won't ever stop loving you. This is just the only way to keep you safe, away from my father.”

Sophia’s eyes flicked up at you, already glassy, the scene hitting harder than she expected, even if you two were the ones who wrote it. Her lower lip quivered, but her voice stayed strong.  “Then you might as well kill me. Because I’ll never feel safe without you.”

You exhaled slowly, stepping closer, watching her eyes closely as you delivered the final blow. “This is it for us, Gina. I’m sorry.”

That was the line that shattered her. Sophia’s breath hitched as a tear slipped down her cheek. Then another and another as tears just kept falling. Her chest rose and fell like she wasn’t getting air fast enough. 

“Fia,” you said softly, script falling to your side as you set it down on the bed. She sniffled, eyes squeezing shut for a second before she wiped at them quickly. You take a step toward her, reaching out for her hand. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, but the way her voice broke at the end said otherwise. “No, that was… honestly? That was incredible.” You swept away one of the tears, giving her a soft, crooked smile. “You just made me emotional with a line I’ve heard fifty times.”

Sophia laughed wetly, leaning into your palm, her body finally relaxing as she let her shoulders drop. “It’s just… I don’t know. Something about it hit harder this time.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re too good at this,” you teased lightly, trying to ease her emotions. “You practically made me forget we’re not actually Aria and Gina.”

You didn’t say anything at first to let her calm down, then you smiled once she stopped hitching her breath and leaned in. “Want to run it one more time?” you whispered. Sophia shook her head.

“No,” she whispered, pulling you a little closer. “I want something else.” She kissed you slowly as your lips helped her calm down. You wrapped your hand around her nape, softly caressing her as you moved back a bit. “We’re gonna do great, so we won't have to act that or more times than we have to.”

That actually made her laugh, and you guys decided that it was enough practice until the day of the pay. The weekend passed by quickly with the help of errands and cash drops for Rai. Surprisingly, there wasn’t any violence, and it was honestly manageable, calm for two days.

But Monday rolled around much more quickly because of that. By the time you got to school that morning, you were practically glued to Sophia’s side like a lost puppy. The nerves were kind of getting to you, not knowing what to expect during that period of class, and yet you weren’t scared. Sophia made you feel ready for what’s to come.

That comfort lasted until your playwriting professor walked in, a clipboard in hand and a too-early smile on his face.

"Alright, we’re on the fifth play today," he announced to the room, already eyeing the two of you. "Which means... Miss Lafoerteza and Miss Y/L/N, you’re up."

You felt Sophia go stiff beside you, then squeezed her hand for a bit of comfort. He continued, “Head backstage. We’ll give you five to get settled before curtain.”

You both stood up, her fingers briefly grazing yours before she tucked her script against her chest. The class watched you two shuffle toward the back with way too much interest in comparison to the previous plays for some reason. I mean, it was likely because of Sophia and her being popular.

Backstage, Sophia was already pacing in small circles, whispering lines under her breath so they would be stuck in her brain. You reached for her hand gently, “Hey.”

She turned, eyes wide, lips parted slightly. “You’re gonna kill it,” you said, squeezing her hand. “We’re gonna kill it. You know this. You could even do this in your sleep.” Her shoulders dropped slightly, but she was still tense.

“Sophia, look at me,” you said.

When she did, you gave her a soft smile and leaned in, wrapping your arms around her in a long hug, and you felt her heart slow down against your chest. She melted into it after a second, exhaling every nerve she felt out of her body.

Then, from the front of the curtain, you heard your professor shout, “On my count — five, four...!”

The show finally began with everyone else having printed out scripts to follow along. Like you said, everything moved smoothly once you were on stage. The lights were hot as they blasted both of your bodies, the silence from the audience was a bit eerie, and somehow every line sounded better while standing on stage. You barely had to act at certain points. The story of Aria and Gina hits a bit close to home for the two of you.

And then came the ending. You swallowed thickly as you stepped forward, the final lines leaving your mouth as your voice cracked just enough to sting.

“This is it for us, Gina. I’m sorry.” You didn’t even realize you were crying until your line finished and your vision blurred. As the script had directed, you turned and went behind the curtains, and once you hit backstage, you wiped the tears off your face in frantic swipes.

Meanwhile, Sophia stayed on stage as planned. She stood there, center spotlight, with her expression wrecked, even in its silence. She stayed in character until the very end, even when she became shocked at the sight of tears rolling down your face for the first time.

Then the lights dropped and the class erupted in applause, even the professor too. She had barely made it back behind the curtain when he called both of you back out. “Miss Y/L/N, Miss Lafoerteza — stay a moment,” he said, staying seated behind the table with his clipboard and the most pleased expression you’d ever seen on his face.

“I have to say,” he continued, looking between the two of you, “this might be the most powerful performance I’ve seen for this project in years. Well-written characters. A plot with a lot of angst. Dialogue that hurt.”

The class nodded in agreement, still clapping. “And based on your script, commitment, and the full delivery of the story…” he paused, then smiling, “I’m giving both of you an A. No notes.”

You turned to Sophia, heart still pounding, and pulled her into a hug before anything else could happen. She was crying again from how much pressure she’d been holding in all month until now. Her arms wrapped around you tightly, face pressed against your chest, and you smiled through your own exhausted breath.

You pulled her backstage after the Professor told the next pair to prepare. Leaning back just slightly to cup her cheeks as her arms were wrapped around you, and kissed her softly. When you pulled back, her smile finally peeked through her tears. “We did it,” she whispered.

You laughed. “Yeah. We really did.” She sniffled, her makeup slightly smudged, and you grabbed the corner of your sleeve to gently pat under her eyes. “Don’t worry,” you murmured. “You still look perfect.”

She bit her lip at that, eyes fluttering a bit because of your touch. Then, before you could overthink it, you looked her dead in the eyes and asked, quietly, “Sophia… will you be my girlfriend?”

For a moment, her face went still. Then the smallest smile crept across her lips, one that slowly grew wider as her eyes looked glossier than normal.

“Yes,” she said softly. “Of course I will.”

[luvseraphh]

live mishap.

▹ synopsis: in which you're going live for your large following while your girlfriend is over and she needs to stay hidden due to her management. but somehow at the end you accidentally end up revealing her face...

▹ content warnings: fem!reader, fluff, drabble

▹ pairing: daniela x influencer!reader (katseye)

▹ side note: I'm in love with her I fear, wrote this in may but this will be out in june so happy pride month! lmao

"What products do you use for your hair," you read out the comment before replying, "I can't remember the name but I will post it on my story later after I double check."

After a short length of silence some whispering is heard over the live by someone off camera. You break out into laughs, covering your mouth while you look off camera over at something or someone.

"'Who are you looking at', just a friend," you giggle before you erupt into even more laughs, the other person also bursting out into giggles.

"'Is there anything going on between you and Daniela from Katseye'," you read, and you can't even to bring yourself to answer it before laughing. You give the camera a suspicious look before finally giving an obviously fake answer. "There is nothing going on between me and Daniela, we are just friends."

"Yeah, nothing going on," Daniela sarcastically says before realizing the camera could definitely pick up on her voice. The both of you started laughing so hard you couldn't breath, and you quickly fumbled with your phone, turning off the live.

Bonus: you two both got in trouble with her management for the whole fiasco. You two had to attend media training and ship edits of you two started going viral all over the internet. But at least you didn't have to hide your girlfriend anymore, right?

Taglist - @justmylvr @lwcedribbons @im0nsaturn @dvartefox @failurewater @f0reverfaded @t0asty1 @iv-vee @mp3nai @straows @grenadehearts @hecate-frenchfries @imagine-all-the-imagines

ⓒ luvseraph 5/11/25

[nakylvr]

— FILL THE VOID

daniela avanzini x fem!reader x megan skiendiel

summary: you've been aware of megan's "little crush" on you over the past few years, honestly finding it endearing and cute. after talking with daniela about trying something, things take a turn.

warnings/tags: nsfw content, language, threesome, established relationship (dani & reader), g!p meizini, riding, effiel towering, cumming inside (multiple times), switch!reader, switch!megan, dom!daniela, recording during sex, mami kink

part of the substance series

wc: 2,6 k

minors dni

im so sorry for how long this took but uh i hope you guys like it 😓 i kept editing it so this is the final product 😖

sitting on the couch in between daniela and megan, the three of you were watching some dumb movie daniela wanted to watch. but none of you were really watching. you kept catching megan trying to take terrible sneaky glances at you, poorly acting like she wasn't doing anything when you look over at her.

you’d been aware of her “little” crush on you a bit after you started dating dani. megan was adorably obvious about it. trying to sneakily look at you when she thought you weren't paying attention, getting hard around you showing her visible print in her pants when you wore something a little too provocative, her eyes trailing your body only to turn bright red whenever you would even merely touch her arm. it was honestly endearing and cute.

you also knew she was way too shy to do anything about it. dani was her best friend, and you were dating dani. which meant you were off limits. she knew that. so why would she even try?

you look over at the ginger from the corner of your eye, seeing her gaze already on you. you then take a look at dani, who just nods her head giving you the okay.

“y’know, megs,” you start, causing her to look at you. “i really think you should go back to the dark hair.” your hand moves to push a strand of her hair out of her face.

“huh?” megan lets out, her face instantly turning red. “you think?”

“yeah.” you nod, your hand moving down to her shoulder. “i love the ginger, but i miss your natural look.”

“well–uh–thanks,” megan manages to get out, confused as to what's happening. within the second your leg is hooking over hers to straddle her and trap her, making her eyes go wide. “wh–what’re you doing?” she stammers.

“i know about your little crush on me, mei mei,” you say, your fingers fiddling with the material of her shirt on her shoulders.

“what?” she blurts out. “i mean–i don't–i would never–”

“it's okay,” you cut her off, grinding your hips against her slowly, feeling her start to get hard under you. “dani and i talked about it.” you lean in close to whisper in her ear. “you can have your way with me if you want.”

megan feels a shiver run down her spine, a pathetic whimper falling from her lips as you grind against her with more force. she looks between you and dani with a red face, trying to see if this was some kind of joke, and given by how dani hasn't freaked out yet, she assumes she's in the clear.

“really?” the ginger whispers.

“mhm,” you hum with a nod. “c’mon. you want me, don't you, mei mei?”

“yes,” she says softly.

“then do what you want for once.”

as soon as the words leave your mouth and you lean back to look at megan, she's surging closer to kiss you roughly. the action surprises you, a little noise leaving your throat as she grabs your hips tightly, dragging you against her hard cock straining against her shorts making you both moan. your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her impossibly closer to you. biting down on her bottom lip, a whimper escapes her mouth when you gently tug on it and pull it back with your teeth.

parting from the kiss, a string of saliva pulls between your lips, and when you look into megan’s eyes, you feel a shiver run down your spine. her pupils are blown wide, dark and hungry with need as she breathes heavily trying to recuperate. she doesn't say a word, instead shimmying out of her shorts and boxers, making her cock spring out and slap against her stomach.

your eyes widen at the sight of her. she's bigger than you expected. not that you're complaining, you never would. but you wouldn't be able to deny the way you throbbed thinking of her inside you.

“you're so big, mei mei,” you purr, your hand moving down to give her a few strokes, smearing the precum around her tip.

“fuck…” megan breathes out, her hips jerking up.

“you wanna be inside me, meiyokie? hm?” your hand speeds up slightly, making the ginger whimper loudly.

“yes. god, yes, please.” megan nods quickly. “please.”

a smile curls on your lips at her response. pushing your shorts and panties aside, you lift your hips and slowly sink down onto her. a sharp gasp leaves your mouth as you go lower down until she's fully sheathed inside of you, and you're letting out shallow breaths. you’ve never felt this full before, feeling the younger’s dick deep in you nearly pressing against your cervix without even moving.

“oh my god.” your eyes roll back when you slowly rock against her, a moan falling from your lips. “feel so full, fuck!” you throw your head back and lift your hips up before falling back down, a moan leaving both your lips.

megan’s eyes never leave your face as you start to ride her with desperation and need. watching the way your face changes at every thrust, how your lips part when those pretty noises leave your mouth. moans leave her mouth without any care, the feeling of your warm, wet walls almost too much for her. “you feel so good, yn. holy shit!” she hisses, her hands gripping your hips tightly as you move.

“yeah?” you smile, looking down at her. “you're so big inside me, i can feel you so deep.” you pull your shirt off over your head, watching her eyes go big when you unclasp your bra and let it slip off. “you can touch me, baby,” you tell her, resting your hands on her shoulders.

a whimper leaves megan’s mouth at the petname, her face flushing red as she moves one of her shaky hands to grab your breast and gently squeeze, making you whine and arch into her. hesitantly she moves forward to your other breast, glancing up at you before wrapping her lips around your nipple and carefully sucking on it, making her sigh against your chest.

your hips stutter when you feel her begin sucking on your nipple while still squeezing and fondling your other breast, a breathy moan escaping your lips as you look down at her. you just smile at her, grasping the back of her head and pushing her closer against you as you speed up, loud moans leaving your mouth. “fuck, you're gonna make me cum!” you whine.

hearing your words, megan finally starts thrusting up into you as you go faster, moaning into your chest as she continues to suck and lick around your nipple. her eyes peer up at you, all big and pleading with tears threatening to spill. she mumbles something against you, and you have a feeling you know what she's saying given by how she's twitching and throbbing inside you.

“you gonna cum, baby?” you ask her breathlessly, trying to keep your eyes open but they end up fluttering shut when you feel her tip poke at your g-spot making you gasp. “cum inside me—fuck, please, mei mei—wan’ feel you, please, please,” you start babbling while feeling your climax approaching. your head was spinning and hazy with pleasure, and all you could think about was how you should've talked to dani about this sooner.

“what?” megan lets out, finally pulling away from your chest. “i-i don't think i should,” she manages to get out past her moans. she wants to, though. you can see it. she wants to so bad, but she also doesn't want to fuck everything up.

“please,” you beg before looking over at daniela. “please, mami, please. just this once, please.”

megan turns her head to look at daniela when you do, the latina’s pants and boxers at her ankles with her hard cock in her hand. she's breathing heavily while stroking herself, and megan feels both embarrassment and an odd sense of arousal remembering she was watching the whole thing.

“go ahead,” is all daniela says in response.

a smile grows on your face and you look back down at megan, cupping her face with your hands and kissing her deeply. you both moan against each other's lips as megan uses all her strength to jackhammer up into you, feeling your walls clench around her tightly.

“‘m gonna cum,” she mutters against your lips, whimpers leaving her mouth as she gets closer to her orgasm.

“cum for me, fill me up, please,” your voice is shaky interrupted with moans and choked gasps.

with a few more thrusts, megan lets out a long whine, her hips stilling as you feel thick ropes of her cum shoot inside you making you cum over her cock with a loud moan.

you collapse against the ginger, both of you breathing heavily trying to recover. after the waves of your orgasm pass, you're able to hear the whimpering coming from the other side of the couch. lifting your head off megan’s chest, you glance over to see dani still jerking herself off, letting out quiet whimpers and gasps.

“you need some help, mami?” you ask the latina, crawling off megan’s lap and moving towards dani.

“please, baby,” she says breathlessly, a low groan leaving her mouth when you move her hand and replace it with your own. she glances over at megan who's now staring at you two with hooded eyes, her cock twitching and getting hard again just at the sight. she suddenly grabs your wrist to stop your movements. “you wanna try something, babygirl?”

looking into her eyes, you know by now what she means when she asks that. you know each other's limits, and you know she wouldn't do anything that could make you uncomfortable. and right now? you didn't give a shit what she was about to suggest. you end up giving a nod, and she just smiles, her dimple showing.

and somehow within the next five minutes you were in the bedroom on your hands and knees with megan behind you and dani in front of you with her hand running through your hair, her phone propped against the dresser recording the scene.

“you ready, babygirl?” daniela asks you, putting your hair in a makeshift ponytail. you nod in response, glancing at her phone before up to her again, to which she just smiles softly at you. “you tell me if you wanna stop, ‘kay?”

you nod again, feeling warmth creep up on your cheeks at how soft she says the words and the position you were in, let alone being recorded. “yes, mami,” you reply.

“good girl.” she pats your cheek gently before looking at megan. she just gives the ginger a curt nod telling her to start and megan nods, putting her hands on your hips and slowly pushing inside you.

“fuck,” megan hisses, stilling once she was all the way in.

your head drops, hanging low as you feel her slide in you, your jaw slack as a whimper leaves your mouth when she slowly pulls out and pushes back into you. “oh m-my god.” your hands claw at the bedding beneath you, your voice shaky already. daniela tugs your hair to have you look up at her, a little gasp escaping your mouth at the action as you stare into her dark eyes.

daniela has your hair in one hand, and her dick in the other, peering down at you with hungry eyes. “c’mon, cariño. you're gonna be good for me, right?” she says.

“mhm,” you hum with a nod.

“then be good.” her cock prods against your lips as she looks at you expectantly. nodding shortly, your lips part and the latina pushes into your mouth, letting out a little sigh as she feels the warmth of your mouth around her. “there we go…” she whispers. “you're so beautiful, mi vida.” she breathes out. “so good f’ me.”

daniela slowly starts to push further into your mouth, a groan leaving her lips when your throat contracts to swallow around her, feeling your tongue swirl around her length. “fuck…” she sighs, pulling out a bit and thrusting back in.

by now megan has started speeding up, letting out quiet whimpers behind you trying not to sound like a total loser, but the way your walls clench around her length has her moaning pathetically. her hands rest on your hips with a tight grip as she quickens her pace, the movements causing you to take daniela’s cock further down your throat causing you to gag slightly.

“fuck yeah, baby.” daniela just smiles down at you, keeping your hair in her hand to prevent it from falling in your face. “that's my good little slut. look at you, taking both of us so well.” her voice is sweet as she talks despite her words towards you, and you moan around her causing the latina to let out a groan. “shit—do that again, baby.”

in the three years you've known both of them, you never imagined that this would happen. yeah, you thought about it once or twice before you started dating dani, but god were you thanking yourself for talking to her about it.

tears were welling in your eyes, threatening to spill as you stare up at daniela who keeps muttering praises mixed with degrading words that you can hardly even process anymore. all you can focus on is how good it feels. you're moaning and gurgling around daniela’s cock with the force of megan’s desperate pace pushing her further down your throat, saliva dribbling from the corners of your mouth.

“you look so hot, baby—fuck,” daniela’s breathing was heavier now, her dick twitching and throbbing against your tongue. “shit—i’m close.” her grip on your hair tightens as she pulls on it slightly.

“me too,” megan is barely able to get out past her moans. “f-fuck, wh-where should i–” she can't even finish without a moan coming from her at the feeling of your walls fluttering around her and squeezing her dick.

daniela looks down at you. “you want her to cum inside you again, baby?” she says, stilling her hips for a moment. you nod quickly in response, and she smiles. “my dirty girl, wanting her girlfriends best friend to cum in her—fucking slut.” she starts thrusting her hips again, getting closer to her climax while watching you. breathy moans escaped her lips now, her hips moving out of pace and frantic. “you cum when you want, baby,” she tells you.

you can barely process the words being spoken to you, merely nodding along to everything daniela says while feeling the knot in your stomach tightening and threatening to snap. you know megan’s about to cum by how desperate her movements have become and her cock throbbing inside of you, and her tip hits that spot inside you has your eyes rolling back and you're cumming on her cock, your body shaking as you let out a whine.

within the seconds of you cumming megan is right behind you, a long moan coming from her as her hips still and you feel her fill you up again. and within the minute of that daniela groans, her jaw slacks as she cums down your throat, making you swallow it all.

the three of you are panting heavily as they pull out of you and you collapse onto the bed, head hitting the pillow with a soft thump.

“you okay, baby?” daniela asks.

“mhm,” you hum with a short nod before holding your arms outstretched.

without another word, daniela lays down next to you, letting you wrap your arm over her. your other arm is still extended, and megan just sits there not knowing what to do.

“c’mere,” you mumble to the younger girl.

immediately megan crawls onto the bed on the other side of you, curling into your side. you let out a quiet giggle at how fast she moved, looking between the two girls on either side of you.

“this isn't going to be a one time thing, is it?” you ask.

“no.”

“probably not.”

[rosachae]

idol | megan skiendiel x reader

⁍ song: radar - lil hero ⁍ requested: yes! thank you anon ⁍ genre: idol!megan x actor!reader. slowburn fluff, jealous megan, loser!megan ⁍ a/n: thank you for requesting this, anon! sorry for the delay in getting this out. i hope this is what you were looking for. ⁍ w.c: 17k ⁍ warnings: curt language, a little bit nsfw(?), more so just suggestive. ⁍ synopsis:

y/n, an up-and-coming actor in korea, casually let slip on a variety show that she might have the *tiniest* crush on a particular girl group member, megan skiendiel. lucky for her, she was already on megan's radar.

“it was only a matter of time before you did something to make your pr team cry,” yunjin said, her voice thick with amusement as she leaned forward in her chair. “but god, y/n. i didn’t think you had it in you to be that bold.”

you didn’t bother to look at her. instead, you kept your focus on the half-empty iced americano in your hands, the straw poking at the lid like it had something to say too. “yeah yeah,” you muttered, tone dry. “keep it coming. get it all out.”

yunjin’s laughter filled the small recording studio, bouncing off the walls like an echo that didn’t know when to quit.

the first time you met her, you were rushing to a meeting at the hybe building, five minutes late and in no mood to reschedule. the elevator was almost closed when a hand slipped between the panels, smooth and effortless, like it was something out of a k-drama. yunjin stepped in a moment later, casual as anything, earbuds in, hoodie half-zipped, eyes flicking toward you.

she didn’t register who you were right away. not until she caught the outline of your face in the elevator mirror and did the most obvious quadruple take known to man. she grinned like she’d just won a bet. you raised an eyebrow. the doors shut.

your name had been climbing headlines at the time, especially after that marvel debut. you were still adjusting to the spotlight, to the way people started speaking about you like you were a headline first and a human being second. they called you the face of the next generation, a once-in-a-decade talent. you still weren’t sure what to do with that.

to her credit, yunjin didn’t immediately spiral. she told you later she’d nearly recited your entire filmography then and there but had somehow restrained herself. instead, she said, “you’re taller than i thought,” with a sort of breezy charm that made you laugh before you could stop yourself.

the novelty wore off quickly. by your third hangout, she was yelling at her flat iron over facetime and blaming you for jinxing her hair before mcountdown. the pedestal had crumbled, and in its place was something much better.

you adored her, truly. but right now? right now you wanted to strangle her.

“you do realize the internet’s having a meltdown, right?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder while fiddling with the dials on the studio mixer. “megan’s stans are going full detective mode. they’re gonna find the exact thread count of your bedsheets if you’re not careful.”

of course you knew. how could you not?

‎ 

‎it had all started at weekly idol. you and your costar, eunwoo, were the guests that day. minhyuk and hyeongjun were hosting. bright-eyed, energetic, and way too charismatic for nine in the morning. the moment you stepped on set, they bowed with exaggerated reverence and gasped like they’d seen ghosts.

“wow… everyone, protect the cameras,” minhyuk said, turning to the staff with mock urgency. “no way this equipment survives the visuals of both our guests at once.”

you laughed, cheeks heating despite yourself. the nerves hadn’t gone away even after a hundred interviews. your knee had bounced nonstop in the makeup chair. your hands wouldn’t sit still in your lap. you didn’t know why you were this on edge. it wasn’t like this was your first time.

eunwoo had noticed. he always noticed. he didn’t say much, but before your cue to enter, he gave you a quiet nod, a calm smile. just enough to settle the buzz in your chest.

the shoot went smoothly. laughter came easy. there was a moment you and eunwoo broke into an absurd duet of the show’s theme song, something so horrifically off-key that it ended up trending for twelve hours. and yet, what really caught fire was that one particular question.

“…so, y/n,” hyeongjun had said, reading off a laminated card with all the flair of a seasoned variety host. “you’ve caught the eye of the entire country. but has anyone caught your eye?”

you paused. of course you did. your manager’s disapproving face flashed through your brain like a warning siren, but you could already feel the words rising. the answer had been sitting with you for months now, quiet and patient.

you thought of coachella. of watching a failed backflip send some poor guy crashing to the ground mid-performance, which made you laugh for far too long. and how somehow, down that spiral of linked videos and fuzzy 420p livestreams, you ended up watching three girls play roblox with him. that’s when you saw her. megan skiendiel. orange wig, infectious laugh, that strange but graceful way she moved that made you look twice.

she was stunning. but it wasn’t just that. it was the way she felt. vibrant. sincere. like she wasn’t trying to be anyone but herself.

you could still remember the way your cheeks felt warm when you finally answered.

“uh, well, i don’t usually think about stuff like that,” you said carefully, then smiled despite yourself. “but i think katseye’s megan is absolutely gorgeous. i mean, i’d love to meet her. she seems fun. like the kind of person you’d want to be friends with.”

innocent enough. 

‎ 

or so you thought.

now, here you were, spinning idly on a swivel chair in yunjin’s recording booth, trying not to meet her smug eyes.

“you should’ve said nothing,” she said, clearly enjoying herself. “or lied. something. anything. instead, you went full disney channel crush monologue.”

“i thought it was harmless,” you argued, voice climbing in pitch. “i didn’t think the entire internet would spiral into an fbi task force over a throwaway comment. seriously, doesn’t anyone have jobs?”

“you’re y/n,” yunjin shot back, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “you know people hang onto your words like they’re stock tips. you practically lit a flare above her name with that answer.”

“i didn’t even say anything that bad! i called her pretty and said she seemed fun. i said the same thing about you last week on dex’s fridge.”

“right, but you didn’t look like you were about to pass out from heart palpitations when you said it about me. you didn’t blush. you didn’t pause like you were imagining your wedding vows. babe, you looked like you were one blink away from writing her poetry.”

“you’re being so dramatic.”

“am i?” she raised an eyebrow. “because you may as well have held a ‘simp’ sign and worn a megan skiendiel stan shirt. even sungchan has more chill than that. sungchan, y/n.”

you groaned at the mention of your tall, hopelessly clumsy mutual. “low blow.”

“i’m just saying.” she shrugged, biting back a grin. “even you know i’m right.”

and unfortunately, you kind of did.

“okay, but for real,” yunjin said, dragging her chair over with a squeak that made you wince. she rested her elbows on her knees, chin in her hands, looking at you like she was about to stage an intervention. “what are you gonna do if she actually reaches out?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the shift in her tone. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, say she dms you. or tags you in some story. or, i don’t know, shows up at your next premiere with a bouquet of roses and a sign that says ‘hi crush.’ what then?” she asked. “you gonna freak out and melt into the floor? you gonna invite her to karaoke and try to play it cool while secretly dying inside?”

you turned away and took a long, pointed sip of your coffee.

“no, but seriously,” she pressed, clearly not letting it go. “you like her, don’t you?”

you snorted. “i’ve never even met her.”

“not what i asked.”

you sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall with a soft thud. “i don’t know. maybe.”

yunjin tilted her head. “that’s a yes.”

“it’s not a yes,” you said, but your voice was too quiet to sound convincing. “i just think she’s… interesting.”

“gorgeous, fun, interesting,” she ticked off on her fingers. “mmhmm. yeah. sounds like someone’s caught feelings off vibes and roblox streams alone. that’s powerful.”

you groaned again and rolled your eyes, but the sound that left your throat was somewhere between embarrassment and reluctant laughter. “you make it sound so unhinged.”

“it is unhinged,” she said without missing a beat. “but it’s also kind of cute. in a really stupid, romcom kind of way. you, falling for a girl you’ve never met because she made you laugh through a pixelated camera while dressed like a traffic cone.”

you narrowed your eyes. “it was a very good orange wig.”

“never said it wasn’t,” she said with a shrug. “you’re just proving my point.”

you exhaled slowly, running a hand down your face. “look, i didn’t mean for any of this to happen. i just answered the question honestly. i wasn’t trying to stir up some whole thing.”

“but you did,” she said gently. ”and maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world.”

you looked at her, unsure how to respond.

“she could be into it,” yunjin said, her voice lighter again. “she should be into it. if i was her, i’d be clearing my schedule and calling my stylist for a camera-ready fit. do you even know how many people would kill to be publicly flirted with by you?”

“i wasn’t flirting.”

“girl, you might as well have asked for her ring size.”

you groaned again and flopped forward, burying your face in your arms as yunjin broke into another fit of laughter. somewhere beneath the teasing and the noise, though, was something quieter. something you didn’t say out loud.

you kind of hoped she did reach out.

even just to say hi.

__

the dorm was quiet, save for the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of pipes behind the walls. manhua pages rustled faintly in the room next door, probably sophia flipping through her latest haul before bed, but otherwise the place had settled into a kind of hush that only came after midnight. the rest of the girls had turned in after rehearsals, legs sore, voices hoarse, the kind of tired that sank into the bones. megan had stayed behind in the living room, half-sprawled across the floor with a pillow hugged to her chest and a cold bottle of pocari pressed under her jaw.

she was still in her practice clothes, oversized hoodie and bike shorts, skin sticky with the last remnants of sweat she hadn’t bothered to wipe off properly. her hair was clipped up haphazardly, strands falling into her face as she stared down at her phone, blue light painting her features in a soft, ghostly glow.

she wasn’t really expecting anything when she opened twitter. just a quick scroll before bed, a way to shut her brain off after a day of hitting choreography until her ankles burned. but then she saw the video. saw her name. and froze.

“Y/N CONFIRMS SHE’S A FAN OF KATSEYE’S MEGAN 🫢🫢����”

she clicked it.

the clip wasn’t long. maybe thirty seconds, a little more. it was some variety show. she recognized eunwoo immediately, bright-eyed and relaxed in the way only he ever seemed to be on camera. y/n sat beside him, posture a little straighter than usual, nerves twitching under the surface despite the easy smile on her face.

megan watched the moment unfold. the way the question was asked. the pause. the sheepish smile. 

“i think katseye’s megan is absolutely gorgeous.”

the words shouldn’t have done anything. people said things like that all the time. fans. hosts. stylists brushing out her hair before a shoot. it wasn’t new. but the way y/n said it, quiet, thoughtful, almost like she was holding back something bigger… it sat heavy in megan’s chest as the clip ended and replayed itself automatically.

she watched it again. and then a third time.

her notifications were already a mess. katseye’s name trending alongside y/n’s, clips being reposted with fan captions and edits, screenshots of the moment paired with captions like “megan better WAKE UP” and “y/n join the line babe”. she should’ve laughed. part of her did. but underneath it, something shifted. something warm and unsure and a little bit dizzy.

y/n had been on her radar for a while, if she was being honest. megan wasn’t the type to crush easily, but there was something about her. it started with a film. some sci-fi action thing that megan only half paid attention to until y/n showed up on screen and suddenly everything was more interesting. after that, it was interviews. behind the scenes clips. a fan edit that popped up on her for you page one morning and made her miss a whole subway stop because she got too caught up in it.

and now this.

megan opened y/n’s instagram without really thinking. her thumb hovered over the follow button. she stared at it for a long second, teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

she didn’t press it.

not yet.

instead, she set her phone down on the floor beside her and let her eyes drift to the ceiling. her heart was beating faster than it had any right to.

“gorgeous,” she murmured under her breath, voice barely audible. “fun. wants to be friends.”

maybe she could work with that.

‎ 

sleep didn’t come easy to her that night.  before she knew it, the night shifted to morning and she had to get up. the studio called her name, as it seemed to relentlessly the past month and some change. 

sophia, daniela, and yoonchae were already mid-run-through when megan walked into the practice room, the tail end of the “gnarly” chorus echoing faintly from the speakers. sophia’s voice cut clean through the track, daniela’s movements sharp and deliberate. yoonchae was quiet, as usual, but every step she made was crisp, clockwork precise.

megan had barely stepped into the center of the room when she heard it.

“so.” lara didn’t even look up from where she was sitting, stretching her legs out and leaning back on her palms. “anything you wanna share with the class?”

megan blinked. “what?”

manon turned her head slowly from where she was sitting several notches away, a teasing gleam in her eyes. she answers as if it’s obvious. honestly, it really was. “y/n.”

megan tensed immediately. “oh god.”

“yup,” lara said, like she had been waiting all morning for this. “you’ve been blowing up on stan twitter since seven a.m. and don’t think we didn’t notice how fast you saved that clip on the shared account”

“i didn’t save it,” megan muttered, grabbing her water bottle a little too fast. “i just… happened to see it. once.”

“megan,” manon said, eyes narrowing just slightly. “you’ve been quiet all morning. the last time you shut the fuck up was when you saw scarlett johanson do the splits in that one captain america movie. don’t lie to us.”

lara laughed under her breath. “she said you were gorgeous, wanted to be friends. oh, how romantic. i bet you probably watched it ten times over.”

“i did not,” megan said, practically choking on her water. “i just didn’t expect it, okay? i wasn’t mentally prepared.”

“mentally prepared for what?” manon said, raising a brow. “a compliment? you’ve been in magazines. people compliment you all the time.”

“not her,” megan said, before immediately realizing what she’d just admitted out loud. she froze. “i mean. not like. you know. never mind.”

lara clapped once, too loud. “that’s it. someone get her phone. we’re crafting a dm.”

“absolutely not,” megan said, panic already bubbling in her chest. “i’ll die.”

“what are you gonna do?” manon said. “wait until she magically appears in the dorms living room?”

megan buried her face in her hoodie. “maybe.”

“this is tragic,” lara said. “you have the golden opportunity of a lifetime and you’re out here acting like she’s a tax bill.”

“can we please change the subject,” megan mumbled, voice muffled in fabric.

“nope,” manon said, standing up and walking towards her. “group vote says you’re dming her.”

lara held out a hand. “seconded.”

from across the room, daniela raised a hand mid-step. “thirded.”

megan didn’t even look up. “yoonchae. please. save me.”

yoonchae just gave a small shrug, barely breaking from the choreo. megan groaned into her sleeve.

yep. she was on her own. not even sophia batted an eyelash, the filippinas glossy lips tilting up into a small grin where she was by the mirrors. 

megan sat down cross-legged on the floor with her phone clutched in both hands like it might explode. her back was hunched, eyes glued to the screen, and the expression on her face hovered somewhere between total focus and a full-blown identity crisis.

“you haven’t even opened instagram yet,” manon pointed out, sitting behind her and peering over her shoulder.

“i’m getting to it,” megan muttered.

lara flopped down next to her with a dramatic sigh. “this is painful to watch. if you go any slower, we’ll be here until yoonchae turns twenty-seven.”

megan unlocked her phone with a resigned swipe. “what do i even say? like. what do people say when they’re trying not to sound weird?”

lara took a breath. “okay. let’s start simple. ‘hi y/n, thanks for saying i’m pretty on tv—”

“i’m not saying that.”

“‘you have great taste in women’—”

“lara.”

“‘let’s be friends (or more if you’re free saturday night)’—”

megan covered her face with both hands. “why did i think listening to you was a good idea.”

manon leaned her chin on megan’s shoulder. “fine. try this. ‘hi, this is super random but i saw the clip from weekly idol and just wanted to say thank you. that was really sweet of you. hope we can meet someday!’ short, polite, friendly. not scary.”

megan peeked at her. “…that’s not terrible.”

lara squinted. “it’s boring.”

“it’s safe,” manon said, grabbing megan’s phone and typing it out with quick thumbs. “she’s not asking her to elope, she’s just acknowledging it.”

megan took the phone back and read it over like it was a contract. “…what if she doesn’t reply?”

“then you delete your account and we pretend this never happened,” lara said. “easy.”

“lara,” manon sighed.

megan stared at the message for a long moment. her thumb hovered. then tapped. then hovered again.

“just hit send,” daniela called from across the room, not even looking up from her stretching. “we can feel your hesitation from over here.”

“seriously,” sophia added, “you’re vibrating.”

megan sucked in a breath through her teeth. and then, with her eyes closed and her stomach in her shoes, she hit send.

silence.

lara let out the longest, slowest gasp. “it’s done.”

manon patted her back. “you’re very brave.”

megan immediately flopped backward onto the floor like she’d just run a marathon. “i need to lie here forever. let me perish in peace.”

lara just grinned and offered her a thumbs up. “she’s gonna love it.”

megan covered her eyes. “i hate everything.”

never in a million years would she have expected that one simple action to change everything. 

__

the cafe was warm in that familiar, lived-in kind of way. wood-paneled walls framed by climbing ivy, soft light filtering through dusty windows, and the scent of espresso baked into the air like it had nowhere else to go. outside, a quiet drizzle tapped at the glass, slow and steady, painting the sidewalk in watercolor streaks. inside, the soft clatter of dishes and hum of conversation made everything feel just far enough from the noise of your schedule to breathe.

you were at a small table near the back, the kind that rocked a little if you leaned on it wrong. yunjin sat across from you, one leg thrown over the other, straw bent at an aggressive angle in her lemonade. beside her, sungchan had his jacket slung over his chair and a look of mild betrayal on his face as he stared down at the salad yunjin had goaded him into ordering.

“i’m just saying,” she said, picking a piece of arugula off his plate like it belonged to her, “you can’t order a burger four days in a row and then complain about your skin breaking out.”

“it’s called balance,” sungchan muttered, dragging his fork through the greens with the resigned air of someone deeply offended by roughage. “i had a banana this morning.”

“oh wow,” she deadpanned. “one whole banana. call the olympic committee, this man is the pinnacle of health.”

he gave her a flat look. “didn’t you eat instant tteokbokki at two in the morning and then text me about your stomach cramps like it was my fault?”

“okay, first of all, you’re my emotional support contact when i make poor life choices. second of all, i still looked hot while doing it.”

you blinked slowly, chin in your hand, eyes fixed on the screen of your phone where the message sat.

hi, this is super random but i saw the clip from weekly idol and just wanted to say thank you. that was really sweet of you. hope we can meet someday!

megan had sent it two nights ago. you’d seen it the moment it came in, heart tripping over itself in the dark quiet of your bedroom. you didn’t answer. not right away. you told yourself you were busy, that you had scripts to review, meetings lined up. you told yourself it wasn’t ghosting if you intended to respond eventually.

but even now, hours and hours later, you were still here. still staring. still unsure what to say.

you had never been this nervous to talk to someone before.

“okay, this is depressing,” yunjin said, snapping her fingers in your direction. “hey. eyes up. you look like someone just broke up with you via powerPoint.”

sungchan leaned in a little, squinting at you. “are you sick? you’re weirdly quiet. usually you’d be insulting us by now.”

“i’m not sick,” you said quickly, locking your phone and setting it face down on the table. “just… thinking.”

“thinking about what?” yunjin asked, tone tilting toward nosy in that way only close friends could get away with.

you hesitated.

“oh my god,” she gasped. “you’re in love.”

“i’m not in love,” you said, too fast, which only made sungchan snort into his water.

“that’s what people say right before they confess they’re in love,” he said, dabbing at his chin with a napkin like he hadn’t just inhaled half a slice of garlic bread. “who is it?”

“nobody,” you said.

yunjin leaned forward with the exact expression of someone who knew they were right. “it’s megan, isn’t it?”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t have to. the look on your face gave you away.

sungchan let out a low whistle. “oh. that megan. the ‘gorgeous, fun, would love to be friends’ megan.”

you groaned, resting your forehead on your palm. “do you all memorize everything i say or are you just stalking my interviews for sport?”

“yes,” they said at the same time.

“okay but seriously,” yunjin said, nudging your phone with one perfectly manicured finger. “she messaged you, right?”

you nodded.

“and you didn’t reply because…?”

you sighed. “i don’t know. because it’s her. because i don’t want to mess it up. because what if she’s just being nice and this whole thing is way more casual to her than it is to me?”

sungchan tilted his head. “you mean what if she’s cool and normal and not secretly writing fanfiction about you the way you’re doing about her?”

yunjin grinned. “do you want us to help you write back? or are you planning to keep having an existential crisis over a very cute dm?”

you glanced at the screen again. your reflection looked back at you in the black glass, soft and unsure.

“i’ll write back,” you said quietly.

“good,” yunjin said, leaning back in her chair with a pleased expression. “because if you didn’t, i was gonna pretend to be you and do it myself.”

“you’re terrifying,” sungchan said, which she accepted as a compliment.

you looked back at the message one more time. your heart was still beating a little too fast, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. maybe it meant you actually cared. that it mattered.

you took a breath. opened the keyboard.

and started to type.

your fingers hovered for a second too long over the keyboard. the blinking cursor stared back at you like it knew you were stalling. you could feel yunjin’s eyes on you, sharp and expectant, like she might actually snatch the phone from your hands if you hesitated any longer. sungchan, mercifully, had gone back to his salad, occasionally picking at it like it was an alien lifeform.

hi megan! sorry for the slow reply, things have been a little hectic lately. i saw your message and honestly it kind of made my whole week lol. thank you for reaching out :)

you paused. read it again. deleted the smiley. retyped it. added a second sentence.

i’d really love to meet too if you’re ever free.

then you stared at it some more.

“this is painful,” yunjin muttered. “just hit send. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“she leaves me on read and i spontaneously combust from shame,” you said flatly.

“dramatic,” sungchan mumbled, chewing like a cow. “but valid.”

“she won’t leave you on read,” yunjin said, more gently this time. “she messaged you first. that counts for something.”

you looked down at the screen one last time. your thumb hovered over the send button. your stomach turned a slow, clumsy flip. and then, before you could second guess yourself again, you pressed it.

message sent.

you didn’t breathe for a full five seconds.

“there,” yunjin said, smug now. “look at you. being brave.”

“i already regret this,” you mumbled, locking your phone again and pushing it away like it might explode.

“do you want a cookie?” sungchan asked, peering at the dessert menu. “i feel like this moment deserves a cookie.”

you blinked at him. “why do you always want to eat after stressful emotional events?”

“because i am a man of simple needs,” he said, deadpan. “and also because cookies are comforting.”

“he’s not wrong,” yunjin said, flagging down the waiter with the kind of unearned confidence that came from growing up with three older siblings and no shame. except, she didn’t. “three chocolate chip, please. and a round of iced americanos. she’s going to need the caffeine.”

you sank back into your seat, still feeling the rush of adrenaline buzzing under your skin. outside, the rain had picked up a little, streaking the windows like silver threads. inside, everything smelled like sugar and espresso and something warm baking in the oven.

you didn’t know if megan would reply. maybe she’d be busy. maybe she’d forget. but for now, you’d done the hardest part.

you’d answered, and that felt like enough for today.

that was, at least, until your phone chimed.

the sound sliced through the moment like a needle popping a balloon. all three of you froze. your eyes shot to the screen where the notification banner was still lingering like a ghost.

megan skiendiel: that sounds perfect :) when are you free?

yunjin let out an actual gasp, loud and dramatic enough to make the table behind you glance over. sungchan dropped his fork.

“no way,” yunjin hissed, already leaning across the table to see. “no actual way. she replied that fast? is she a robot?”

you didn’t say anything. you just stared. your heart had lodged itself somewhere in your throat, beating so hard it made your ears ring. megan had replied. not just replied but enthusiastically. and with a smiley. the exact one you had almost deleted from your own message.

“hello?” sungchan waved a hand in front of your face. “earth to y/n. what did she say? is it something scandalous? are we finally getting to live vicariously through your love life?”

you shoved your phone toward them without speaking.

yunjin read the message out loud like it was a line from a sacred text. “‘that sounds perfect. when are you free.’” then she looked up at you with her mouth already forming a wicked grin. “she wants to hang out. like, actually hang out. she’s asking you out.”

“not asking me out,” you said quickly, the heat creeping up the back of your neck. “just… asking when i’m free.”

“same thing,” sungchan said, picking his fork back up and pointing it at you like it was a weapon. “in celebrity speak that is basically a confession of love. i’ve seen the charts.”

“you made those charts,” you reminded him.

“and they’re scientifically sound.”

“okay but seriously,” yunjin cut in, phone still in hand, “when are you free? do you have a day off coming up?”

you blinked, trying to force your brain back into scheduling mode. “uh… friday afternoon? maybe?”

“perfect,” she said, already typing something. “tell her friday. tell her you’re free after lunch. keep it casual. breezy. like you’re not obsessively analyzing every possible outcome of this conversation.”

you shot her a look. “i am obsessively analyzing every possible outcome of this conversation.”

“which is why you need us,” sungchan said with his mouth full of cookie. “we’re here to keep you from imploding.”

your phone buzzed again.

megan skiendiel: i’m free friday after seven. wanna grab coffee? i can send you a spot i like

you didn’t even get a chance to reply before yunjin squealed.

sungchan raised both hands to the sky. “oh my god. it’s happening. it’s actually happening.”

you stared at the message, barely breathing, heart thudding like a drum inside your chest.

coffee. with megan.

you were either about to make a new friend or absolutely ruin your entire life trying.

weirdly… you couldn’t wait to find out which.

__

friday showed up before you were ready for it.

“i feel like a dad on prom night,” sungchan said, flopped across your couch like a man waiting for judgment day. he hugged a pillow to his stomach like it might shield him from the chaos. “except hotter. and younger. and not emotionally repressed.

“you’re eating chips with your shirt inside out,”chaewon deadpanned, looking sungchan up and down judgmentally.. “you look like a walking identity crisis.”  

then she turned, peering around the corner into your bedroom.

“y/n, i can’t believe you’re finally going on a date. talk about a breakthrough.”

yunjin sat cross legged on the floor, scrolling through her phone like she wasn’t the one who casually mentioned your date in front of everyone. the very second chaewon heard, she practically chomped at the bit, begging yunjin to bring her along to watch it all unfold. to say your love life was a spectacle among your friends would be an understatement.

“for the record,” you called from your room, still getting ready, “i said no to bringing chaewon.”

“for the record,” chaewon shouted back, “we overruled you. this is a democracy.”

“it’s so not.”

you stepped out, halfway dressed, holding up two completely different tops.

“black or white?”

“ooh,” yunjin said, squinting like she was inspecting a rare museum artifact. “black is hot. white is sweet. depends on the vibe you’re going for.”

“the vibe is ‘i want to look cute but not like i tried too hard because if i think about this too long i will throw myself into traffic’.”

“black,” chaewon and sungchan said in unison.

you sighed and nodded, disappearing back into the room. the air buzzed with the sound of sungchan crunching loudly and chaewon whispering to yunjin like they were spies on a mission.

“lets make a bet. ten dollars says she has a breakdown before she even leaves the house.” chaewon whispered.

“twenty says she embarrasses herself throwing up in megan’s car.” yunjin whispered back.

“guys,” you said, poking your head out again. “i can hear you.”

“we know,” they all said at the same time.

your phone dinged again.

megan skiendiel: on my way. i’ll be at your door in a minute. also, did you know your bellhop likes our music? he almost fainted when he let me up lol

you stared at the message for two full seconds before the others caught the change in your face like wolves spotting weakness. you barely had time to blink before the room exploded.

“oh my god,” sungchan shot up from the couch like someone yelled ‘fire!’. the chip bag in his hands crinkled louder than a car alarm. “was that her? is she outside? do we hide? do we have a code word if things go sideways?”

“wait, she’s coming up here?” chaewon gasped, already rising with a dramatic flair. “this place is a disaster zone!”

“i cleaned for you people,” you hissed, throwing a pointed look at the water bottles on the coffee table and the lone sock draped suspiciously over the lamp.

“yeah, and we immediately undid all of it,” yunjin said, waving a hand at the chaos like it was a museum exhibit. “you’re welcome.”

sungchan grabbed his phone, replacing the cushion he clutched. “this is it. our little baby’s first date.”

“shut up,” you muttered, cheeks heating like you’d just been called out in front of the world. “and put that damn phone down. if i see you take even one photo, i’ll beat your ass. besides, it’s not a date.”

three pairs of eyes locked onto you in unison.

“coffee with the girl you’ve been thinking about nonstop for two weeks,” chaewon said, crossing her arms with the confidence of a daytime talk show host.

“wearing the ‘hot top’, nervous enough to sweat through your socks,” yunjin added, giving you an appraising look.

“with three unpaid emotional support staff waiting at home,” sungchan finished, voice thick with mock solemnity.

your gaze snapped back and forth between the three of them, and you cringed inwardly. okay, they were right. this was definitely a date.

then, knock knock knock.

you froze for a second, heart thudding so loud you were sure they could hear it in the next room. you opened the door, and there she was.

megan stood on the other side like a vision in the hallway light, hair catching the glow just right, a smile that was equal parts warm and mischievous.

behind you, the trio froze mid-move like they’d just been caught doing something they definitely shouldn’t. they exchanged shiteating grins that barely hid how badly they were eavesdropping. yunjin quickly pulled out her phone like she was suddenly very interested in something, but her eyes kept darting toward the door. chaewon leaned against the wall, looking way too relaxed for someone who was clearly dying to say something, and sungchan sprawled on the couch with the kind of lazy cool that screamed i’m totally innocent. when megan’s eyes flicked over to them, they all waved with big, overly casual smiles like innocent bystanders who just happened to be hanging out, except no one was buying it.

but then megan’s eyes locked onto yours and suddenly everything else around you faded into the background. your breath hitched without warning and your brain scrambled like it was trying to process a beautiful glitch in reality.

you’d only ever seen her through a screen before. live streams where she smiled like the sun was just for her, short clips where she moved with effortless grace, and that one quick instagram deep dive you’d done when she messaged you. but now, here she was in real life, and she was something else entirely.

her skin caught the soft light of your penthouse, glowing like it had its own quiet radiance. her eyes were bigger and deeper than you expected, dark and shimmering like they held a secret you wanted to know. the way her hair fell in loose waves around her face softened her sharp cheekbones and made her look both fierce and kind at the same time.

she wasn’t just pretty. she was the kind of stunning that made you forget words and wish you could rewind the moment just to stare a little longer. standing there, frozen with your mouth slightly open, you realized this was the first time you were seeing her. not a filtered version, not a quick snapshot. but the real her. and it was breathtaking.

“hi,” megan said, and the word came out with a lopsided grin that cracked through the tension in your chest like sunlight through a fogged-up window. her voice was warm, lilting, a little too casual for someone who had just walked in looking like a daydream in denim baggy jeans and a bomber jacket. she rocked slightly on her heels and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, like she was fighting the urge to do a small nervous dance.

“hi,” you replied, except it sounded more like a squeak than anything human. your throat betrayed you. of course it did.

then her eyes flicked over your shoulder, and that grin stretched even wider.

“hey guys!” she waved, cheerful like she’d just walked into a party of old friends instead of three people very poorly pretending to mind their own business. “love the casual surveillance vibe you’ve got going on in here.”

“we’re chill,” sungchan said, lounging so awkwardly on the couch he almost slid off it. 

“so chill,” chaewon added, nodding solemnly from her place at the wall, where she’d become one with a houseplant.

“this is how we always sit,” yunjin said, phone upside down in her hand, gaze glued directly to megan’s face. “completely normal. zero eavesdropping. you can’t prove otherwise.”

megan let out a laugh, scrunching her nose as she looked back at you. “your friends are amazing.”

“they’re something,” you muttered, grabbing your bag before your legs could decide to walk without you.

“so,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck and bouncing slightly on her toes. “you ready? or do you need a few more minutes to, like, peel them off the furniture?”

you gave a quiet laugh, trying not to show that your hands were already clammy. “nope. ready.”

megan smiled again. softer this time. like she was seeing you for real. “cool. let’s go, then.”

and with that, you stepped out into whatever this was going to be, your heart doing cartwheels the entire way.

‎ 

truthfully, megan’s car wasn’t what you’d expected. some part of you, the part still convinced the universe had a twisted sense of humor, had pictured something absurd. maybe a crop duster or even the rusty tow truck from cars. something loud. chaotic. entirely un-date-like. instead, it was a sleek black suv. understated but sharp, just like her.

from the passenger seat, you couldn’t help sneaking glances. megan’s focus was fixed on the road, her jaw tense, her hands gripping the wheel like she was bracing for impact.

“you look nervous,” you said, a little too gently.

“o-oh, well. you know.” her voice cracked slightly as she coughed into her shoulder, eyes flicking toward you before immediately darting back to the windshield. she gave you a crooked grin, brief and almost sheepish. “i am. honestly, i feel like i’m going to vomit.”

you laughed before you could help it. light, surprised. “vomit? that’s dramatic.”

“i mean, maybe,” she said, her eyes narrowing playfully for half a second before softening again. “it’s just… i didn’t expect to actually be here. with you. not in a bad way. in a surreal way.”

you felt the flush creep across your cheeks before you even registered it, a warmth that pooled somewhere in your chest. still, you tilted your head toward her, teasing. “i can’t tell if you mean that as a compliment or not.”

megan practically panicked. “no! no, no no, not at all. god, please, that’s the silliest thing i’ve ever heard.” her words came out too fast, tripping over themselves. she shook her head like it would help untangle the knot in her thoughts. “i’m just nervous, okay? i keep overthinking it. like, what if i say something dumb, or do something weird, or—”

her voice dropped slightly, and she added, almost under her breath, “you’re so pretty i can’t think straight.”

then she froze, eyes widening as if realizing she’d said it out loud. her face goes red, a grimace pulling across her lips. she lifts a hand off the wheel to gently facepalm herself, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. “please ignore me. i’m begging,”

you could only watch. you don’t know when the fond grin crossed your lips. when your heart skipped a beat, when her endearing clumsiness had you relaxing in your seat. perhaps knowing that she was just as, if not more, nervous as you made you feel relieved. after a beat, you laughed. soft. her eyes lit up as she glanced at you from her peripheral, the short noise drawing her from her thoughts.

“you’re fine,” you said, quiet but real. “i’ve been looking forward to tonight too.”

“really?”

“yeah. do you think i’d let my friends invade my house all week just for fun? they’ve been insufferable, harassing me all week. i guess i maybe haven’t made it all that secret that i’ve been interested in you for a while.” then you shake your head. “interested in meeting, that is.”

this time it was megan’s turn to crack a stupid grin.

whatever nerves you felt immediately disappeared the longer you talked to each other. truth be told, you were worried whether you’d get along as well as you hoped you would. part of you worried that once you saw each other, it’d be awkward. quiet. instead megan somehow managed to fill the silence with conversation. she asked about your family, about your day, about your friends. in turn you asked about hers.

she laughed at something you said. not even something that funny, really, just a small comment about the gas station snacks you liked. but the way she laughed, like she meant it, like she wasn’t just being polite, made your chest feel lighter. her voice filled the car, soft but certain, and the road hummed under the tires like it was part of the conversation.

you glanced over at her. she was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gear shift. her thumb tapped along to the music playing low through the speakers. some indie band neither of you had heard before but had both agreed sounded “pretty good.” it was easy. easier than you expected.

you didn’t have to think too hard before speaking. there was no second guessing. no awkward pauses that made you reach for your phone or pretend to check the map. she asked about the book in your bag and you told her it was something you started three times but never finished. she admitted she did that too, more often than she’d like to admit. you both laughed again.

the sky outside started to shift, the blue softening into a hazy gold. you weren’t sure how long you’d been driving, only that time felt different in the car with her. stretched out. slowed down. kinder.

it didn’t take long for her to park outside a cafe, but neither of you moved to get out. instead, you agreed to order to go. that’s how you ended up here. still in her car, windows slightly cracked, the warm scent of coffee filling the space between you. your drink sat snug in the cupholder, hands curled around it for warmth, and a half-eaten bagel rested in your lap. just outside the windshield, the lights of seoul shimmered across the han river, soft and golden against the night.

she didn’t seem in any rush to leave, and neither were you.

after a long sip of coffee, the next question came out without much thought.

“how long are you in korea for this time?”

“another week, give or take,” she said, eyes flicking to the skyline, like she was already counting down.

“do you miss home?”

“i do. yeah. i miss my car, mostly. it’s my baby. a bmw m3.”

you looked at her, eyebrows raised. “whoever handed you the keys to a sports car must have had a serious lapse in judgment. you drive this suv like you’ve got a personal vendetta against the speed limit.”

she let out a laugh, head tipping back slightly. “what can i say? i like to go fast.”

“sure. until we’re airborne.”

“oh, come on,” she grinned. “you weren’t complaining when you were riding shotgun, all cozy and content, full-on passenger princess mode.”

you rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “i was holding onto the door for dear life.”

“you were vibing,” she said.

“i was surviving,” you shot back, but it was playful, light.

the silence that followed wasn’t awkward. it was the kind that settled easy between two people who’d already found a rhythm.

megan reached for her own cup, nearly knocking over the paper bag between you in the process. the bagel inside gave a sad little flop onto the console. she froze.

“whoops. that was... not smooth.”

you laughed, nudging the bag gently back toward her. “you’re a menace behind the wheel and a danger to pastries. noted.”

she gave you a sheepish smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “yeah, i’m really killing it tonight, huh?”

“actually,” you said, voice a little softer, “i’ve had a really nice time.”

she blinked at you, surprised. “yeah?”

you nodded, looking out toward the river before meeting her eyes again. “i was kinda nervous. not because of you, just... sometimes people are different in person. it doesn’t always click.”

megan was quiet for a second, then gave a small, crooked smile. “i was worried about that too. i overthink everything. i even tried to pick a good playlist just in case the conversation died and we needed... filler noise or something.”

you laughed. “is that why i’ve been listening to three hours of sad indie girls?”

“they’re emotionally articulate,” she said, pretending to be offended, but her grin gave her away. “besides, it worked, didn’t it?”

you leaned back against the seat, stretching your legs out a bit. “yeah. it really did.”

the city lights danced in her eyes when she looked at you, soft and a little uncertain, but there was warmth there too. the kind that made the car feel smaller, safer.

“you’re easy to talk to,” she said after a moment, quieter than before.

you smiled, heart tugging just slightly at her honesty. “so are you.”

a comfortable silence settled again, the kind where neither of you felt the need to fill it. the engine ticked softly as it cooled, and in the background, another melancholic song hummed through the speakers.

“i was gonna try and act all chill and collected,” megan said eventually, gaze fixed on the skyline. “but then i fumbled, almost crashed into that curb, and now my bagel is probably in pieces.”

“you’re doing great,” you said, trying not to smile too much. “like, truly elite first impression.”

she turned to face you, eyes bright despite the dim light. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

and just like that, the nerves that had once lingered in the corners of your chest felt like a distant memory.

__

after that night in the car, things shifted. not in a big, dramatic way. no sudden declarations, no fireworks. just small things. steadier things.

your conversations moved from instagram dms to real texts. it felt natural. seamless. one day she asked for your number like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t already been in your head more than you cared to admit. and you gave it without hesitation, like it wasn’t a risk. like you already knew she’d treat it right.

when she left korea, it was quiet. no big goodbye, no emotional scene. she texted you from the airport, a blurry photo of her and a coffee she swore was going to keep her awake through the flight. from there, the messages kept going. even with the time difference, she found time to talk. random updates. sleepy selfies. voice notes with a little static in the background because she always seemed to be walking somewhere, or in a van, or waiting backstage. sometimes she’d send a song with no context. sometimes just a “this reminded me of you” followed by a meme that made absolutely no sense.

you talked about everything and nothing. the shows she was doing. the tiny hotel rooms she was crashing in. how much she missed sophia’s dog, chanel. how lara had started sleep talking again. how yoonchae had near cried when she had to say goodbye to her parents again when they returned to california.

you told her about your week, the upcoming film you’re wrapping up shooting, your friends, the late-night ramen run that ended in rain and ruined shoes.

some nights, the conversations lasted until one of you fell asleep mid-text. other nights, it was just a good morning or goodnight, quick but never careless.

somehow, she made the space between you feel smaller.

it didn’t take long for others to start noticing your budding friendship, either. 

if there was one thing you should know about megan skiendiel, it’s that she’s stubborn. fiercely so. once she feels something, she clings to it with both hands. no disguises, no apologies. she doesn’t know how to be subtle and doesn’t try to be. her heart shows up before she even walks into the room.

and lately, her heart had a habit of mentioning you. probably more than it should have.

the first time was during a casual sit-down with a popular youtuber. the question had been harmless enough.  “did you meet anyone interesting in korea?” 

megan didn’t even blink before your name tumbled out of her mouth.

behind her, manon practically doubled over laughing while lara muttered something about “bad timing” and “inside jokes.” the clip went viral within the hour.

eyekons weren’t buying the act. they knew.

especially after that solo live.

‎ 

megan sank into the couch with a sigh, stretching her legs over the coffee table as she adjusted her phone. It’d been a long day. dance practice ran overtime, vocal lessons left her voice raw, and all she wanted was to collapse into bed. but she had promised her fans a live, and the guilt of leaving them waiting weighed heavily on her.

she brushed  her hair back as the screen flickered to life. a wave of comments flooded in immediately, the chat scrolling too fast to keep up.

she smiled, a familiar warmth settling into her voice. "hi, everyone. It's been a while, huh?"

the dorm was quieter than usual. yoonchae and daniela were still at the studio, finishing up some recording. lara, sophia and manon were off doing who knows what. 

megan answered questions between sips of water, laughing as fans teased her. she talked about her love for food, and her habit of getting lost in airports. the conversation was easy, natural. she talked about practice, her favorite songs lately, and the games she'd been playing. it felt comfortable, like a casual late night talk with friends.

then, suddenly, the energy shifted. the comments exploded into chaos. fans were spamming messages faster than she had ever seen before.

"wait, what's happening?" she mumbled, eyes flicking over the chat, trying to make sense of the flood of messages.

then she saw it. a single line of text that had a dumb grin permanently etching itself across her face. 

y/n:  have you ate today? you look so cute with those glasses on! 

her eyes scanned the screen again just to make sure she hadn’t imagined it. but no. it was still there. your name. your message.

she dropped her hands into her lap and beamed, full teeth, no restraint. her cheeks were already tinged pink, and now they burned. she didn’t care.

“hi, y/n,” she said, voice soft but electric. “you’re really here, huh?”

the chat lost its mind. it was like someone had thrown gasoline on a bonfire. hearts, exclamation marks. 

megan didn’t even try to hide it.

“i wasn’t expecting that,” she said, practically bouncing in place now. “like, i thought maybe you’d be busy or… i don’t know, being famous and cool and doing actor things.”

she laughed a short, nervous little burst,  then leaned closer to the screen, like it might bring her to you.

“i did eat, by the way. i wasn’t gonna wear the glasses, but my eyes were tired and they help with the light. but… i’m glad you think they look nice.”

it wasn’t subtle. none of it was subtle.

she was glowing. lit from the inside out with the kind of joy that couldn’t be faked. and even though thousands of fans were watching, even though the chat was an overwhelming blur of reactions and chaos.  for that brief moment, it was like no one else existed. no one but you. 

‎ 

the third, perhaps most notorious time, was two weeks later.

‎ 

it was meant to be a harmless segment. a fluff piece for some new cosmopolitan youtube show. the kind with silly games and awkward dares and an entire soundboard dedicated to exaggerated gasps. katseye had been invited to promote their upcoming showcase, and the host had them lined up in pairs, facing each other in a game of “who knows who better.”

megan had been paired with sophia, which was dangerous from the start. the two had a history of throwing each other under the bus for the sake of comedy, and neither had a filter to speak of.

“okay, last round,” the host grinned, holding up a cue card. “this one’s just for fun. megan, sophia — name one person your partner talks about way too much.”

“oh no,” sophia said instantly, already grinning like the cat who got the cream.

megan groaned, head falling back dramatically. “don’t do this to me.”

“i have no choice,” sophia replied solemnly. “i’m under oath.”

the buzzer sounded and both girls scribbled their answers down on whiteboards. megan wrote slowly, trying to be clever, trying to think of a joke that would dodge the obvious. but when the timer buzzed again, she sighed and held it up.

so did sophia.

your name. in big, bold letters. twice.

the studio burst into laughter, and the host clutched his chest like he’d just witnessed the reveal of the century.

“wow,” he said, eyes flicking between the two of them. “not even a hesitation.”

“because it’s true,” sophia said, smug. “she’s in her ‘y/n era.’ we’re just living in it.”

megan was pink from ear to ear, trying — and failing — to hide behind her board. “that’s not true. okay, maybe a little true.”

“a little?” manon called from off-camera. “girl, you made us watch one of her movies three nights in a row.”

“it was for the plot,” megan shot back.

“uh-huh,” daniela deadpanned. “plot named y/n.”

the clip made the rounds before the show even finished airing. fancams popped up with captions like “megan being the president of y/n’s fan club for six minutes straight” and the internet did what it does best. spiral.

‎ 

through it all, megan didn’t deny a thing.

she couldn’t. not when her whole face lit up like a summer skyline every time your name came up. not when her bandmates had stopped teasing and started treating your existence as something inevitable, like the rising sun or the way manon always stole everyone’s chargers.

 by then, you weren’t just someone she mentioned.

in an industry known for silence, for secrecy and statements about “valuing privacy,” hybe was practically rolling out a red carpet. in korea, relationships in the spotlight were often treated like scandals waiting to happen. but the western fans? they were eating it up. every clipped interview, every suspiciously timed instagram like, every passing mention of your name on a live. it was all free press, and hybe knew it.

so they leaned in. quietly, strategically. no denials. no damage control. just subtle nudges that said, yeah, keep watching.

and it was driving her crazy. 

__

you weren’t exactly sure when it happened. when the feeling settled in your chest and decided to stay. maybe it had been there all along, hiding underneath the comfort of familiarity and the ease of your friendship. or maybe it grew slowly, in the quiet moments you never thought to mark.

it could’ve been during the weeks she was gone, promoting outside of korea. the distance was supposed to make things simpler. safer. but instead, it just made her absence louder. knowing you were still the first person she messaged in the morning and the last one she talked to before sleep made your chest ache in a way you didn’t have a name for yet.

or maybe it was that one night, the one where you called her just to vent about a costar who had spent the entire day getting under your skin. you were halfway through a breathless rant when you noticed it. the way she was watching you through the screen. how she wasn’t just nodding politely or checking her phone or letting her attention drift. she was listening. really listening. her eyes softened when you got frustrated, lit up when you said something funny. when your voice cracked just a little from tiredness, she didn’t interrupt. she just stayed with you. present and still. like holding space for you was the most natural thing in the world.

and somewhere in all of that, it hit you.

you were in love with megan skiendiel. painfully. undeniably. fully.

at first, you were terrified. quietly, achingly scared. because what were you supposed to do with a feeling like this? loving megan had crept up on you, soft and slow, the way a sunset slips past the horizon before you even realize it’s gone. and now that it was here, fully formed and impossible to ignore, you didn’t know how to carry it.

megan had become a constant. someone who felt less like a friend and more like a fixture. someone you could turn to at any hour, knowing she’d listen without judgment, laugh at your bad jokes, sit in silence if that’s what you needed. she never made you feel like too much or not enough. she just saw you. and the last thing you wanted was to ruin something that good with feelings you didn’t know how to manage.

so you kept it quiet. buried it under casual texts and late-night calls. told yourself it wasn’t the right time. told yourself maybe it didn’t need to be said at all.

but then the girls were coming back to korea. six months had passed since their last visit, and the moment megan found out they’d be landing soon, she called you. not texted. not waited. called.

you’d picked up on the first ring.

and now, you were standing at your front door, fingers still curled around the handle, staring at the very girl who had been living rent-free in your head for months.

before you could even speak, megan threw her arms around you. the force of it almost knocked you back a step. her dark brown hair smelled like travel and lavender shampoo and something unmistakably her. she held you like she’d been counting down the days to this moment. like she’d been holding her breath all the way across oceans and could finally breathe again now that she was here.

her arms were warm and tight around you, her face tucked into the crook of your neck. for a few seconds, neither of you said anything. and for the first time in weeks, your heart didn’t feel so loud.

“you smell different,” megan mumbled, voice muffled against your shoulder.

you blinked, startled. “um. thanks?”

she pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands still resting on your waist. “not bad different. just… like laundry detergent and success.”

you snorted. “you’ve been on korean air for fifteen hours and that’s what you open with?”

“i missed you too,” she said, and there was no hesitation in it. no theatrics. just honesty, plain and easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world to say.

you felt the corners of your mouth twitch, trying hard not to smile like a complete idiot. “i figured. what with the fifteen missed calls.”

“okay, first of all,” she said, stepping fully into the apartment now, shrugging off her jacket, “ten of those were because i forgot the time difference and thought you were ghosting me.”

“you forgot the time difference?” you repeated, crossing your arms with a skeptical look.

megan turned around, eyes wide and unconvincing. “yes?”

you stared.

she caved. “no. i panicked. sue me.”

you closed the door behind her, shaking your head. “you’re ridiculous.”

“you like it,” she said without missing a beat, flopping dramatically onto your couch.

you didn’t deny it. instead, you walked over and stood behind the couch, arms draped loosely over the back as you looked down at her.

“so what’s the plan now that you’re back?” you asked.

megan grinned, tossing her head back to look up at you. “coffee. your favorite ramen place. a movie i’ll definitely talk through. and if you’re really lucky, maybe i’ll even let you win at mario kart.”

“bold of you to assume you’d be letting me win,” you said.

“bold of you to think you could beat me,” she fired back, eyes sparkling.

you met her gaze, heart stuttering, voice softer now. “i’m really glad you’re here.”

her grin faltered just a bit, and something gentler settled into her expression. “me too,” she said. “more than you know.”

for a moment you just stared at her, the moment truly settling in. you really did miss her. texting and phone calls were one thing, but seeing her in person was another. her goofy smile, the way she locked in like she didn’t just drop the funniest bomb known to mankind, the way she laughed as if she didn’t care who was watching. she was just one girl and yet, she consumed the space so beautifully without even knowing. 

you almost did it then. almost opened your mouth and let the words tumble out. but you didn’t. instead you settled on a small smile. 

you were about to ask megan if she wanted water when your phone buzzed against the counter. you didn’t need to look to know who it was. you’d spent the entire night before (and entire day honestly) lighting up your text chain with yunjin. sure enough, when you unlocked your screen and peered down, there she was. 

yunjin [7:13pm]: is she there yet or did she ghost you after all that build-up

yunjin [7:13pm]: respond right now or else i’ll think you confessed and blacked out from emotional overload. 

you rolled your eyes and typed back quickly with one hand while grabbing two glasses with the other.

you [7:14pm]: she’s here. no blackouts. yet.

yunjin [7:14pm]: yet???  i’m counting the minutes. btw u should ask her to come to the party tn. i think sungchan wanted to introduce u to someone too, so ur contractually obligated to show up. 

the idea of sungchan wanting to introduce you to someone made your blood run cold. the last time that happened, you ended up stuck in a corner with shindong rambling about crypto, diet tips, and the “glory days” of SM for thirty painfully long minutes.

still, you swallowed the groan bubbling up in your throat and slipped your phone into your pocket before yunjin could fire off something even more unhinged. when you turned back toward the living room, megan had curled herself sideways into the couch, one leg dangling off the edge, her head tilted back like she was trying to make sense of the ceiling tiles.

“was that yunjin?” she asked, grinning like she already knew the answer.

“unfortunately.”

“what’d she say? wait, don’t tell me. something dramatic, slightly invasive, and definitely teasing.”

you handed her a glass of water with a dry look. “spot on. she wants to know if you’re real or just a figment of my imagination.”

megan raised an eyebrow. “and what did you tell her?”

“that you’re here.” you smirked. “look at miss nosey over here.”

she raised both hands in mock surrender, barely hiding her smile. “hey, what can I say? i’m working on a phd for not being able to mind my own damn business.”

you laughed, shaking your head. the kind of laugh that came easily around her. and then, remembering the rest of yunjin’s message, you leaned your weight against the back of the couch, fingers tapping idly on the cushions.

“she’s throwing a party tonight,” you said. “something about celebrating a new album drop. you should come. bring the girls.”

megan sat up a little straighter, sipping her water with the kind of dramatic flair that made you snort. “a party? are there going to be snacks?”

“probably.”

“alright, i’m in. but only if there are snacks and minimal small talk. and maybe karaoke.”

“so you want snacks, bad lighting, and a mic. noted.”

“see, you get me.” she beamed, already reaching for her phone. “i’ll text the girls. we’ll make it a proper entrance.”

you rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. your heart was too full for your own good. “god help us all.”

__

the drive over was chaotic in the way only megan’s presence could make it. she’d managed to wrangle sophia and daniela into coming, predictably the two most likely to say yes to the word “party” before even hearing the rest of the sentence. manon and lara had tapped out almost immediately. yoonchae hadn’t even bothered pretending she was considering it.

megan drove, one hand lazily on the wheel, the other dancing over the radio dial every five seconds. you sat in the front passenger seat, watching her in the glow of passing streetlights.

sophia leaned forward from the back. “so, y/n,” she started, voice thick with mischief, “how’s it feel being megan’s favorite girl?”

“sophia,” megan warned without looking away from the road.

daniela snorted, flinging a gummy at the back of megan’s head. “what? it’s true. we’ve heard more about y/n in the last six months than we have about anyone else.” then she turned to you, leaning forward besides sophia. “i was starting to think she made you up.”

“my god, you guys are worse than lara and manon.” megan muttered, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. she glanced at you, caught the smile playing on your lips, and groaned. “you’re both so annoying.”

“say you love her and we’ll shut up,” daniela sang from the backseat.

“i will crash this car,” megan said flatly, but her ears were pink.

you turned in your seat, raising an eyebrow at the two girls behind you. “this what you do on every drive?”

“only when the company’s good,” sophia grinned.

by the time you walked up to the le sserafim dorm, the music could already be heard before you even reached the front door. the air outside buzzed with voices and laughter. 

you barely had time to step over the threshold before you heard it. 

“there she is!”

yunjin materialized out of the crowd like she owned the place. which, sure, she basically did. it was her party afterall.  she practically skipped the last few steps toward you. before you could get a word in, she grabbed your hand, pulled you into a hug that was half tackle, half dance spin, and leaned back to look you over. “hi, hello, love you, you look disgustingly hot—don’t even try to run, i’ve got plans for us tonight.”

you barely had time to laugh before she clocked the girls behind you. “megan!” she called, eyes lighting up as she pulled you into the house. “and you brought the fun ones! hi, sophia. hi, daniela.”

“you act like we don’t always show up,” sophia said with a grin, accepting the hug yunjin offered.

“it’s not a real party unless daniela’s threatening to outdrink everyone,” yunjin replied.

“not a threat if it’s true,” daniela said, winking.

megan held up her hands in mock surrender. “i told them to behave.”

“why would you do that?” yunjin laughed. “no, i want full chaos tonight. come find me later, i’m kidnapping y/n for a minute.”

you looked back at megan just as yunjin tugged you into the crowd, her hand firm in yours. megan simply grinned, the light catching her face just enough to make your heart skip.

and then the music swallowed you whole.

some part of you couldn’t help but feel a little bit annoyed. truth be told, you’d have rathered been home with megan. caught up on lost time and put on a movie. maybe stepbrothers, because you know it’s one of her favorites from one of your many late night conversations. 

instead, you were here. loud music, dim lights, and the kind of packed crowd that made it hard to think. it wasn’t awful. yunjin’s parties never were. her friends were warm and welcoming, even if chaewon had greeted you with a smug “so where’s megan?” the second you walked in. but still, your eyes kept drifting.

you caught sight of her across the room, laughing at something sophia said, a hand tucked into the pocket of her baggy jeans. daniela was already halfway into a dance battle with some guy in a bucket hat. megan wasn’t doing anything extraordinary. she was just… being. but somehow, that was enough to pull your gaze every time.

you tried to focus on the conversation happening around you. tried to lean into the easy rhythm of old friends and new music. but your mind had already wandered. back to the idea of megan beside you on the couch. back to her laugh. back to the quiet. back to her. always her.

eventually you took a step back when the cup yunjin shoved into your hands was getting empty. 

“gonna get a refill.” you shouted lamely over the music. you didn’t wait for her to respond before you were stalking your way to the kitchen. 

it was in that space you were able to truly look around. you didn’t miss the curious glances shot your way, no, that would’ve been impossible. it felt incredibly vain to acknowledge that you were an idols idol, but you knew. 

you were halfway refilling your cup with some kind of soju concoction when a voice cut through the air. 

“y/n!”

you looked up and immediately locked eyes with a familiar pair of browns. a tall, handsome figure weaved through the crowd toward you, his shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes just enough to make him look like he hadn’t planned a single part of his night. sungchan grinned, all coy charm and childish mischief. you groaned the second he pulled you into a rough side hug, the unmistakable scent of alcohol clinging to his clothes like cologne. still, your arms came up automatically, returning the hug without a second thought. for all his nonsense, sungchan had always been a good friend.

“i want to introduce you to someone.”

you turned just as sungchan stepped aside, and there she was. karina.

you had never met her in person before, but you might as well have. her face was everywhere. it lit up across high-rise billboards in gangnam, looping through luxury brand ads on the subway monitors, popping up on your explore page whenever you so much as breathed near the fashion or idol tag. you remembered the way jaewook had bragged about her back on set a year ago when the dispatch article dropped. he had shown his phone to his costar like it was breaking news, grinning like he had just won something. you had rolled your eyes, walked off to get coffee, and told yourself it wasn’t your business. it wasn’t, until now.

karina was even more stunning in person. her beauty wasn’t the kind that made a scene or demanded attention. it just existed, like it belonged there. her gaze met yours and stayed, unwavering.

it wasn’t rude, or even intense in a threatening way. just… focused. present. like she wasn’t just seeing you but actually registering you.

you were suddenly very aware of your posture, your hands, your everything.

“it’s so nice to meet you!” she called over the music, her voice warm and clear even with the bass thudding through the walls. she stepped just a little closer, enough that you could hear her without leaning in. “i love your stuff. seriously. i’ve been asking sungchan to introduce us for ages, but he’s always chickened out at the last second.”

sungchan made a wounded noise, hand over his chest like she’d just stabbed him, but before he could fire back, wonbin came stumbling past, arm slung around his neck with all the grace of a wrecking ball. they disappeared into the crowd in a tangle of laughter and chaos.

you rolled your eyes and turned back to karina, only to find that her gaze hadn’t left you once. her eyes held yours with that same calm, curious steadiness, like she wasn’t in a packed party but somewhere quieter. somewhere smaller.

you offered a small smile. “likewise. though to be fair, i think he just gets intimidated around pretty girls.”

her lips curved. “pretty, huh?”

you blinked, brain catching up three seconds too late. “oh god, sorry. i don’t know why i said that. yunjin handed me a cup earlier and i don’t even know what was in it. she could’ve poisoned me for all i know.”

karina laughed, the sound easy and low. “knowing her, it’s probably something criminal. you’ll wake up with a hangover and a new life philosophy.”

you laughed too, but it faltered slightly when she leaned in, just enough for her shoulder to brush against yours. it was nothing, a light touch, but it grounded you instantly.

“don’t worry,” she said, voice softer now, “i think you’re pretty too.”

your heart stuttered.

you opened your mouth, but whatever you meant to say vanished the second her smile deepened.

“not to be dramatic or anything,” karina said, lifting her cup for a slow, nonchalant sip, “but i think we’re being watched.”

you blinked. “watched?”

“mhm. i can feel her eyes burning holes into the back of my head. like a laser pointer. i’m actually a little afraid to turn around.”

you tilted your head, letting your eyes scan the room until you found her. megan, standing across the floor. at some point sophia had shoved her cup into megan’s hands and joined daniela on the dance floor. the chinese girl clutched the cup in both hands like it might leap out of them if she didn’t keep a death grip on it. her expression was neutral, but her stare? not subtle.

you cleared your throat. “who, megan? no, no, she’s—”

“look at the way she’s holding that cup,” karina cut in, a grin already pulling at her lips. “you’d think she just watched the most annoying man on earth walk in and ruin everyone’s mood.”

you huffed. “reminds me of a certain six-foot-something actor with a god complex.”

karina snorted, her eyes flashing with recognition before she laughed for real this time, head tipping back for just a second. she knew who you were talking about almost immediately. the one man you had in common besides sungchan happened to be her very tall (very annoying) ex. 

“right. i forgot you know jaewook.”

you raised an eyebrow. “unfortunately.”

“hey,” she said, still grinning. “he’s not that bad. underneath all the bravado he’s actually kind of sweet.”

“sure, you don’t need to convince me.”  you shrugged, completely deadpan. “if the dick’s bomb, it’s bomb.”

karina choked, hand flying to your shoulder as she doubled over in disbelief. she was laughing harder than before, and you felt a little thrill run down your spine at the sound of it.

when she straightened up again, she wiped at her eye and shook her head. “you’re going to wake up tomorrow and regret ever opening your mouth.”

“without a doubt,” you said, already sipping to forget.

“i think i want some of what you’re having,” karina said, eyes glittering with mischief as she swirled the liquid in her cup. “it’s my cue to go find the woman of the hour. but before i do…”

she leaned in, slower this time. you thought she was going to say something else right away, but then her mouth dipped lower, her breath warm as it ghosted the curve of your jaw. you stiffened in surprise, the proximity making your pulse stumble. her lips came dangerously close to your ear, just barely brushing your skin when she spoke.

“that girl. megan.” her voice dropped to something sly and sweet. “she wants you. it’s written all over her face. she hasn’t stopped staring since i walked over. so how about you use some of that liquid courage and do something about it?”

your breath caught, cheeks burning with the kind of heat no drink could explain. karina pulled away just as slowly, and her smile was soft but wicked. it said a hundred things at once. 

 i’m glad we met, good luck out there, don’t screw this up.

then she was gone, slipping into the crowd like she had always belonged to it. her red solo cup bobbed above the sea of people as she drifted toward the corner where yunjin and chaewon were doubled over in laughter.

you didn’t even have time to process it before someone else stepped into her place.

megan.

her arm brushed yours, then stayed there, her hand wrapping gently around the bend of your elbow. she was close. so close. close enough that you could smell the perfume on her skin,  something cool and soft, mint layered with warm vanilla. it hit you all at once that it was yours. a bottle that had disappeared from your vanity six months ago before katseye left korea. and now here it was, clinging to her in the most dizzying way.

your body flushed with heat that had nothing to do with the music or the alcohol. your eyes traveled up, taking in the sheen of sweat along her collarbones and the way her skin glowed under the lights. her crop top clung to her in all the right places, her stomach taut from dancing. you could still see the echo of her movement in the way her breath rose and fell, chest barely brushing yours.

you finally looked at her face again. she was already staring.

her eyes were darker than you remembered, shadowed and unreadable, fixed on you with something that felt like pressure and want and restraint all tangled up into one look. her lips were drawn in a line, neither smiling nor frowning, but firm with intent.

the air between you thinned.

you weren’t sure who would speak first. or if either of you had to. not with the way the tension folded in and around you like the bass from the speakers. not with the way her fingers curled just slightly against your arm, like she wasn’t ready to let go.

“oh. hey. you doing okay?” you asked, voice raised slightly over the music pulsing around you.

megan didn’t answer right away. her eyes stayed locked on yours for a beat too long, and just when you thought she might finally say something, her gaze dropped. slow and deliberate. it traced the line of your jaw and landed just beneath your ear. her expression shifted. something flickered across her face, subtle but sharp. a furrow of her brow that sent a wave of nerves crashing down your spine.

before you could speak again, she brought her thumb to her lips and wet it. then, without hesitation, she reached forward and pressed that same thumb to your neck. her touch was warm, careful. a soft swipe against your skin.

your breath caught.

“she left lipstick on you,” she murmured, quiet but clear enough to cut through the noise.

your hand shot up on instinct, palm flattening over the spot just beneath your ear. you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, blood rushing too fast under your skin.

“o-oh. yeah. was an accident,” you stammered, the words clumsy as they left your mouth.

megan didn’t respond right away. she just hummed.  low, unreadable. then her hand slid down from your elbow, fingers grazing your forearm like she couldn’t quite decide if she wanted to hold on or let go. eventually she settled, her grip tightening just enough that you felt the weight of it. like an anchor. like a warning. like something unspoken passing between the two of you that neither of you had the guts to name.

not yet, anyway.

for a long second, she just stood there, saying nothing. she didn’t blink, didn’t move. only stared.

you shifted on your feet. “did… did i do something wrong?”

her voice was steady, but low. “let me drive you home.”

you blinked. “oh. okay.” it came out softer than you meant, a whisper carried easily between you. she heard it all the same.

‎ 

you weren’t sure how much time passed between then and now. one moment you were alone in the kitchen of yunjin’s dorm, the next megan was muttering something to sophia and daniela under her breath,  a rushed string of syllables that made them blink once, twice, and nod. she grabbed your hand without waiting for an answer and pulled you toward the door. you felt the weight of every pair of eyes that followed you on your way out. yunjin’s brow arched with thinly veiled amusement. sungchan mouthed something that looked suspiciously like “what did you do.” and karina… she didn’t say a word. she just winked.

now you were in the passenger seat of megan’s car, the inside dim and quiet save for the faint hum of the engine and the soft patter of rain beginning to hit the windshield. your buzz had all but faded, replaced by something heavier, something laced with nerves. megan’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles had gone pale. the jaw that was so often relaxed with laughter and teasing was now set and stiff.

you turned to face her fully. “megan. what’s going on with you?”

she didn’t look at you. her gaze stayed fixed on the road ahead as if it held all the answers she couldn’t bring herself to say aloud.

“when did you and karina get so close?” she asked, too casual to be convincing.

you tilted your head, eyes narrowing. “are you jealous?”

there was a beat of silence. then she scoffed. 

“no!…. yes. fuck, y/n, i don’t know. i don’t know what i feel. all i know is that seeing her in your space like that just— it just drives me crazy.”

the car hummed beneath you, megan’s hands gripping the wheel like she was holding onto something more fragile than the leather beneath her fingers. she floored it the moment she pulled onto the main road. fast, reckless as always. the first time you rode passenger princess in her car, you practically grabbed onto the seat for dear life. except tonight, you didn’t even mind. you couldn’t look away. her jaw clenched tight, the faint pulse at her temple a rhythm you felt in your own chest.

the car sped down the dimly lit road of your penthouse’s underground parking, tires echoing against concrete walls. megan didn’t slow until she pulled into a quiet corner, the only sound the engine’s low hum. just the two of you now.

her jaw was tight, eyes sharp. “karina,” she spat, voice low and rough. “she was all in your space like she owns it.”

you met her glare, feeling the heat rising between you. “megan, i just met her.”

 her hand clenched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles went white.

“yeah, well, she sure didn’t act like it,” megan bit out. “in your ear, touching your arm like you’ve been hers for years. you think i didn’t see the way she looked at you?”

you blinked at her, pulse quickening. “why does it even matter?”

megan turned to you then, full body, her eyes blazing. “because it does. because you’re not just some friend i joke around with anymore, y/n.”

the silence that followed was thick, pressing. you stared at her, at the curve of her jaw clenched in frustration, at the way her chest rose and fell like she’d just run a sprint. her brows were furrowed, but beneath the frustration was something else. something that made your stomach twist and your fingers curl tight around your seatbelt.

“megan…”

she exhaled hard, dropping her head back against the headrest for a second like she was trying to force the words out. then her voice came, rough and low. “i can’t stand seeing someone else touch you like that. it makes me feel like i’m gonna lose my mind.”

you reached out, hand hovering before it found hers on the console between you. her fingers twitched under yours, like she was deciding whether to pull away or pull you closer.

“you’re not gonna lose your mind,” you said quietly. “you’re just finally saying what we’ve both been thinking.”

she didn’t reply. didn’t need to. you swallowed, heart hammering. this wasn’t the easy conversation you’d expected. it was raw, jagged, real. her eyes locked onto yours, wild and fierce. for a moment, you could almost feel the weight of everything she hadn’t said hanging between you.

without warning, she leaned in, closing the space with a fierce urgency. her lips crashed against yours, rough and demanding, like she needed to prove something. your breath hitched, caught off guard but all in.

it was messy, desperate, the kind of kiss that didn’t ask for permission. your hands found her hair, pulling her closer. she growled low, the tension snapping as the lines between friends and something more shattered.

it was a blur after that. megan barely killed the engine before the two of you were out of the car, walking fast and too close as you made your way through the quiet underground garage. her hand hovered at your back, not quite touching, but you could feel the heat of it through your shirt. the elevator ride was silent, charged, her reflection burning holes into yours through the metal walls.

the second your door swung open, you were on her again. the lock clicked behind you as you pressed her up against the door, mouths crashing together like you’d both run out of time. your hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, greedy for skin. she kissed you like she needed you to breathe.

“y/n,” she breathed out, but whatever she was going to say got lost in the next kiss, your name drowned out by the low thud of her back hitting the hallway wall.

you didn’t even think, just grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the bedroom, feet stumbling, laughter breaking through the tension for a split second. she followed without hesitation, eyes locked on you like she was trying to memorize the way you looked at her now. 

as soon as you hit the threshold of the room, your mouths found each other again. she kicked the door shut behind her without looking, hands already tugging at the hem of your shirt like she’d waited too long for this. 

she pulled away after a moment to simply stare. 

megan looked at you. the kind of stare that could melt ice. her gaze traces the lines of your body like she was hungry, yet still she said nothing. she swallowed, her lips pursing together as she weighed her own thoughts in her mind. her eyes trailed up and down before finally they settle themselves again on yours. it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what she was thinking in this very moment. you could practically read her through her silence. the way she practically itched to say something funny, to break the tension with a lighthearted joke in true megan fashion. but she couldn’t. her body was reacting as much as yours was. she trembled slightly, her chest rising up and down as if she was struggling to take in air. but it was pure anticipation. when she talks her voice is careful, hesitant, like she was afraid that one wrong word would break the quiet you slipped into. 

“how do i tell you that i want you without making a fool of myself?”

your breath hitched when suddenly she moved. she took a step closer, and instinctively you take a step back. the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you’re falling back. the only thing you can do is sit stupidly and stare up at her as she stares down. she was already tall, but now she loomed over you. 

she was so unlike herself. just ten minutes ago she was fumbling over her own feet, giggling between kisses as her fingers clumsily trailed up and down the warm skin on your back. now, she was confident. like she was looking at you through the lens of someone who realized in the span of a quick ten minutes that they were standing before something holy. 

you hum. “you say it. tell me, megan.”

she doesn’t hesitate. she nudges your legs apart so she’s standing between them now, your legs trapping her in. her hands instinctively raise to the back of your head, one idly playing with the baby hairs on the nape of your neck while the other gently grabbed your chin. she didn’t ask, just simply gripped your chin between her thumb and index finger and tugged. she leaned down slightly , so close that you could feel her hot breath hitting you. when she talks, her voice is quiet. 

“i want you, y/n.”

she moved one inch closer, and her lips brush yours. it was faint. a feather light touch, but it sent shivers down your spine all the same. her eyes dropped back and forth between your eyes and your lips, the grip she had on your chin tightening momentarily before she let go. her hand lazily drifted down from your face and to your chest, fingertips just lightly grazing your skin. and then, she moved the other hand. the hand that once played with the hairs on the back of your neck now moved to the front, fingertips dancing along your throat. she hums. her voice dripped like venom, tantalizing and dangerous all in the same breath. 

“you have no idea how bad.”

you swallow, and megan feels it against the hand she held to your neck when her fingers gently reach out and clasp. nothing tight. but she doesn’t say anything. she simply stares. her eyes dark, her face unreadable save for only the pure want clear in her words. through the grip on your throat, you reply. your voice fell to a whisper, though just as confident as her own. 

“then show me.”

she didn’t need to be told twice. the grip she held on your neck tightened just slightly before she relented. her lips which once grazed yours finally surged the small distance. she kissed you, every emotion she pushed to the back of her mind finally coming out in full force. she tilted her head, a soft sigh of relief escaping her when you met her kiss with equal fervor. 

this was it. the moment where finally, she’d let herself cave. the moment where megan would lose her inhibitions and finally be true to both herself, and to you. being so close to you in this moment made her full body vibrate. you were intoxicating, and she was addicted.

 megan deepened the kiss, her tongue gently swiping across your bottom lip. when you don’t open your mouth, she bites your lip. taking advantage of the gasp you let out, her tongue darts in. without words, her intentions were clearer than daylight. 

she wanted you, and she wanted bad. 

the grip on your neck only tightened until eventually you needed to pull back for air. a string of saliva coated your lips when she pulled back, her grip on your throat relaxing. but she doesn’t mind. she lets you breathe, feels your chest rise and fall beneath her full hand as she trails open mouthed kisses down from your swollen lips to your jaw, and then your neck. she littered kisses around the area her hand clasped around only moments ago, soothing the dull feeling of a phantom grip. 

through your haze and a short gasp, you couldn’t help but tease her. 

“who knew you had that in you, huh, skiendiel?”

megan answered with a simple bite to your neck. a nibble, soothed over with a faint swipe of her tongue immediately after. it was enough to shut you up, if even for a moment. she hummed. 

“can’t help myself. you’ve no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this.”

this time it was your turn to raise a hand and gently play with her hair, her mouth still working at your jaw and throat. you sigh, your fingers clasping around a clump of her dark hair. you shake your head. 

“what, are you trying to tell me this is the only reason you asked for my number all those months ago?”

she knew you were joking, that you were being facetious. still she couldn’t help but frown. she dropped fully to her knees now between your legs, still fully trapped by your legs on either side of her. from this angle as she pulled away from your neck, she looked up at you through her sleepy eyes and pink bangs. 

“maybe this part was wishful thinking. but no, not the only reason.” her hands trailed down again, finding your skin beneath your shirt. her hands were so numbingly cold despite the warmth in her gaze. her hand pressed against your lower stomach, feeling the way your abdomen clenched slightly against her cold palm. she looked at you with her half lidded eyes and all you saw was sincerity. she continues. 

“you’ve no idea how hard it is to keep my hands to myself when you’re you. but fuck, look at you now.” her other hand reaches for the hem of your shirt and now she tugs, her touch gentle despite the bite in her words when she says her next words. “you’re mine, baby.”

the words set something off in you. something that lit a fire in the deepest pits of your stomach, begging to be addressed. and megan knew it. 

and so, she did. 

__

you weren’t sure at what point you fell asleep. all you knew was that when you woke up, you were in your own bed. the blankets were pulled up beneath your chin but it wasn’t their warmth that clung to you like it was moulded for your body, and yours only. 

your eyes trailed over to the sleeping girl besides you. megan’s arm wrapped around your torso, holding you close. her bare body pressed against yours had a chill running down your spine. you could already feel the hickeys forming on your neck, the bruises on your thighs. you could feel the phantom feeling of her nails scratching down your back and her coaxing whispers lingering in your ears. 

megan had practically transformed into a completely different person. the memory of her eyes, dark and dangerous, had you inadvertently shifting closer to her. the slight movement was enough to wake her. a deep, sleepy groan pulled from her lips as she subconsciously nuzzled herself closer into you. when her eyes fluttered open and they landed on you, the difference was night and day. 

she was nervous. shy. she practically hid her face in your neck only to turn red in embarrassment when she was met face to face with the marks she left on your throat. when she speaks her voice is low, awkward. 

“i-i, uh, you know. i’m so sorry. too much? probably. oops.”

despite the situation, you couldn’t help but laugh. the sound alone made her groan, her head digging even deeper into you as if the action alone would hide her from your teasing. a classic ‘if i can’t see you, you can’t see me’ kind of thing. 

“it’s okay, megan.”

she looked up at that, her cheeks still flushed red. but there was no mistaking the way her shoulders relaxed. she looked back at you and it’s then the events from the night before seemed to finally settle in. it’s in this lighting that you realized, again, just how gorgeous she is. the way her hair framed her face even when she was ridden with bedhead. the way her soft lips pouted involuntarily, the way her sleepy eyes looked up at you through her lashes. she was so, unbelievably beautiful without even needing to try. you couldn't help but wonder if she knew this as well as you could see it. 

with a newfound sense of confidence, she suddenly leaned forward. her lips found yours and unlike the fit of messy kisses she gave you the night before, now she takes her time.  when she pulls away, pink dusts her cheeks. 

“i can’t believe we did… that.”

you raise a brow. “oh? pray tell why you’re so surprised.”

megan’s eyes practically blow wide. “seriously? you’re not even the slightest bit shocked and overwhelmed and- a-and, i don’t know, lowkey kinda freaking the fuck out? i mean jeez. you’re you!”

before you can reply she’s already continuing. her arm around your torso tightens, a look of pure shock and elation cemented across her face. 

“do you have any idea how scared it makes me knowing that you’re practically in a league of your own? i mean, shit, you walk into a room and everyone stares. i walk in and everyone waits for me to break my own leg! you’re you. and i’m me. and this just doesn’t make any sense, a-and-“

you turn slightly so you’re facing her fully, her arm around you not slipping but loosening just enough. you shake your head, a hand reaching up gently to swipe her hair from her vision. her pink bangs covered her eyes just slightly, hiding the state of pure frazzle in their depths. you can’t help but chuckle softly. 

when your lips tilt up at the corners, a small grin gracing your face, megan stopped rambling. she was so, completely, irrevocably enamored by you in a way that it hurt her brain. 

when you leaned forward just enough to seal her lips with your own, her breath catches in her throat, silenced. for a moment you both lay there. her arm around your torso now moving to lightly grip your waist, her fingers digging in just barely as if she was grounding herself in the moment. your hand cupped her jaw, the kiss deepening just a second longer. when you pull away, her eyes are blown wide. she stares back at you in equal parts awe, and fear. she was completely undone by you. 

“relax.”

the simple word was all she needed. she nodded her head stupidly and obediently, her lips pursing so tight together as if you’d given her a command she’d follow til her last breath. 

your grin softens into a small smile. “you’re such a loser, megan.”

megan grimaced. the kind of look that was half part an awkward smile, and half part an embarrassment pout.  she burrows her head into your chest with a drawn out groan. she feels the way your body vibrates when you chuckle, hears the way your heart skipped a beat with her ear pressed to your bare chest. and in that moment, she decided. 

no amount of embarrassment would ever outweigh the pride she felt in knowing that it was her you were holding that very morning. 

__

a month passed. 

megan hadn’t planned on going live. it was one of those quiet nights that felt heavier than it should have. the dorm was calm. daniela had vanished into her room with a face mask and a bowl of cereal. sophia had crashed early. the silence made everything feel louder.

so she pulled on an oversized hoodie (your hoodie) and went live from her bed. nothing fancy. just her and her phone, legs tucked under her, the soft yellow light from her nightstand casting a warm glow across the screen.

“hi,” she said, voice soft with that slight rasp it always had when she was winding down. “i couldn’t sleep.”

the chat exploded immediately. hearts, greetings, inside jokes, fans asking about everything from what she had for dinner to her favorite stage outfit from the last comeback. she answered a few, laughed quietly when someone asked if lara still sleep-talked. her fingers toyed absentmindedly with the sleeve of her hoodie as she scrolled.

“what’s the weirdest dream you’ve had recently?” she read aloud, smiling. “okay, so i had this one where i was back in high school, but for some reason all the desks were made of jello, and sophia was my teacher? yeah, no idea. my brain is a strange place.”

another wave of hearts. more laughing emojis. the mood stayed easy, casual, soft around the edges.

then came the question. fast, buried in a sea of others, but megan’s eyes caught it and held.

“who’s that in the background?”

she blinked.

then turned, just slightly, to glance behind her.

there, on the edge of the bed, barely in frame, was you. hoodie half-zipped, face makeup-free, curled against a pillow and blinking slow from the comfort of just having woken up from a nap you hadn’t even meant to take.

megan looked back at the camera, lips tugging into a smile that was both shy and completely unbothered.

“guess the secret’s out,” she said, voice low but steady.

the chat exploded again, this time in full-blown chaos. some fans caught on immediately. others were in denial. a few begged her to clarify, but she didn’t.

instead, she leaned back against the headboard, reached over, and laced her fingers with yours. you blinked blearily, took a second to realize what was happening, then gave a soft laugh.

“hi,” you murmured, just loud enough to be heard. “sorry, i kind of knocked out.”

“it’s okay,” megan said, thumb brushing against the back of your hand. “you’re cute when you sleep.”

the live didn’t last much longer after that. she answered one or two more questions, gave the usual love you guys and get some rest, then signed off.

but the clip stayed. it spread fast, faster than either of you expected. screen recordings, gifs, screenshots, fan theories shifting into confirmed realities. by morning, your names were trending side by side.

and just like that, it wasn’t speculation anymore.

it was real. it was official.

it was you and her. finally.

[4kozy]

had a few dreams about you | smau

ft! daniela avanzini ( katseye )

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syn | after a series of misunderstandings leading up to now, you absolutely despise daniela and that would just have been the end of it: two strangers that hate each other ( one sided )… but she’s really hot and very very persistent. AND she’s your costar for ur broke friend’s film..

‼️ daniela avanzini x reader ( blk-coded, but can be read as otherwise ) | meg theee faceclaim or maybe idk..

📍idk where this is set just know this isn’t in like south korea, thanks honays

❌ suggestive/sexual jokes, being DOWN bad, haterism, slight!nsfw, swearing, mental health, drugs, humor, gay, gay, gay!

🎈smau, humor, one sided enemies to lovers, wlw, college au

profiles | katseye + the khias :: yn’s biggest fans

taglist | ( open, comment to be added! ) @tashiagalinda @jaythegirlkisser @harajukub4rb1e

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friendliest behavior

megami

freak the opps

( tba )

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[lara4eclipze]

Hiiiii Can I please request Dani PDA when she is around the other girls! Like I know Dani would lowkey baby Yn since Yn is more masc. and although Yn would whine about out she loves it.

》 Y/N and Dani Being Clingy!

sypnosis 》 dani just can't get enough of babying you

beware 》 fluff , swearing , clingy!dani , masc!reader , PDA

talks 》 hi , i know ive been sooo inactive recently but fear no more cause im having my writing comeback!! hopefully a new fic every two days , caution !! this is a scene by scene thingy

taglist (open): @nyssalvr @ohmyhaely @vrtualstar @jellaaa @c-yerim @nakylvr @chuugetmesohigh

daniela was never the one to show public displays of affection, she wasn't that clingy, to her members or family — yet with you she changed, her hands were always stuck to yours and you both were practically glued to each other's hips

"calm down we're not gonna steal her" lara jokes as she notices how tightly dani grasped your forearm

you chuckle , looking down at your arm noticing how her nails were about to dig in to your skin

"no seriously she is not going anywhere" lara follows

♡

another example is when you attend their practices, after every dance daniela would run up to you and hug you

yes she was drenched in sweat but she smelt amazing , she looked amazing even

"was that good?" sophia asks you as you stop recording the practice — "perfect!" you replied earning you an adoring smile from your girlfriend

♡

you came home later than usual, late enough that you open the bedroom door to daniela asleep wearing your t-shirt, her eyes soon flutter open, and her features immediately turned into a relived one

"where have you been! , i was worried sick — next time tell me when you're getting home late" dani exclaims as she flailing her hands around

"i know I'm sorry" you frown at her , she runs up to you and hug you closely — her lips on yours , even though she was shorter she overpowered you her hands all over your back as if trying to not let you go or float away

"dont worry me like that again okay?" she pulls away and says her eyes turning into a window in to her soul , she looked vulnerable and worried

you nod just cherishing the warmth she brung into your life

"your such a baby" daniela then teases ruffling your short hair, her hands pulling you closer by the collar of your shirt

"am not!" you defend giggling along with her

"my handsome and pretty baby" she mutters

[manonsmartini]

Maniac: all alone with a shovel and a rose

Daniela Avanzini x fem!reader

4.7k words | established relationship | predebut characters are fictional

fluff, ANGST, homophobia, profanities, drinking, not proofread, daniela what the fuck???

[ I ]

Folding some of your fresh laundry, you were surprised by the ring of your phone. Walking towards you vanity, you picked the device up and saw the face of an angel.

“Hi baby,” You heard the latina’s voice rasp on the other end of the line as you answered her call, “Dani, hey,” you replied, a smile already forming at your lips, delighted at the fact that the blonde called.

“I miss you,” The dancer said, “Are you home?”

You nearly giggled at your girlfriend’s words, feeling like an absolute schoolgirl. “I am, why?” You could hear the girl’s breath at the other end, “Like I said, I really miss you…” Daniela trailed off.

“What are you doing right now?” The latina asks, you look at your closet, replying, “Nothing interesting, just folding some clothes.”

Daniela hums, “Can I come over?”

You took a short pause before you responded, “But it’s almost midnight? We have class tomorrow,” you said, a bit worried. You wanted nothing more than to spend time with your girl but there were certain risks whenever you did—risks that would mostly affect her more than you, but if it’s important to Daniela, then it is for you as well.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry about it,” Daniela said quietly on the phone, “I just really need to get out of here,” the girl admits, “And I really want to see you right now.”

You stared at your screen, your eyes tracing the beautiful features of the girl. You ultimately nodded, resulting in her dimples showing as a smile made its way to her lips, “Great, I’ll be there in 20.”

Just a little while after, you heard a faint vibration coming from your phone. You immediately went downstairs to sneak your girlfriend in, seeing that she sent you a message saying that she’s outside your house.

“Hey baby,” Daniela says, her voice soft and low, staring at your face, keeping her eyes on you as you felt yourself heating up from her gaze. You were about to usher her in when she grabbed onto your frame, holding you in a tight embrace, “God, I missed you,” the blonde sighs into your hair, inhaling your scent in the process.

“We just went on a date yesterday,” you said, reminding her of the fact. She grumbles quietly, “I know that,” another sigh escapes from her lips before she continues, “But I really wish I could spend time with you,” her voice barely audible as she practically whispers, “all day, everyday.”

It was you turn to sigh, feeling yourself get overwhelmed by the affection the girl is showing right now, with her sweet words and strong embrace. You truly appreciate the times like this that you share with the latina. Sure, she was always physically affectionate, but she always only did so in private, not wanting to risk getting caught with you.

But now, standing outside your house, holding the girl of your dreams where anyone who passes by could see you, despite the risky circumstance, you felt nothing short of safety in Daniela’s arms.

“I missed you too, Dani,” you whispered back to the girl, separating yourself a bit to place a soft kiss on her cheek, which immediately turned pink at the contact. Daniela separates herself from you before holding onto your face, caressing the soft skin, her thumb slowly finding its way towards your lips.

You could feel your heart pounding hard and you were afraid she could hear it from where she stood, which is just a couple of inches away from you. You stared into her eyes and you could almost feel your legs give up on you as you saw nothing but pure adoration from the blonde, never feeling this much warmth from anyone.

She took her time inching closer before you finally felt her soft lips on yours, her hand still stroking the skin beside your lips, the other finding its way to tangle itself in your hair.

This was by no means your first kiss with the girl. Daniela had already graced your lips with hers countless times already. But this felt absolutely different than the rest because of how public it felt. Sure it was way past midnight and there was nothing but silence in your area. Still, you couldn’t help but appreciate the little change which was an absolute big deal for you because you were certain that it was a big deal to her.

Daniela finally pulls away, her eyes slowly opening to focus on your swollen lips, “Let’s get inside?”

The girl decided to stay in until 6 in the morning, so that she could sneak back into her house and prepare for school. When the morning came, you felt nothing but pure happiness at the night you spent with the blonde. Daniela could barely keep her hands to herself as she kept holding onto your frame, keeping you close to her at all times.

The familiarity of her touch resulted in the best sleep you’ve had in your life despite only having less than 6 hours of it. The mere fact that you knew you spent it in the latina’s arms was enough.

It truly was a blissful morning for you—spending the night with Daniela for the very first time. The obvious progress in your relationship lately made your heart swell, knowing how much the blonde held back when she’d meet up with you to lessen the risk of getting exposed. Now, it felt like she was finally adjusting and getting comfortable with you, and there is nothing you want more than for her to know that you could be her safe space.

You were able to bring that positive vibe to class, walking the halls with a certain spring in your step. It would have been noticeable had there been people in your campus that you were close with—unfortunately, there were none.

You never exactly hid your attraction towards girls, and because of that, people pretty much just distanced themselves around you. It wasn't that they were all blatantly homophobic towards you, if anything, it was usually just the boys who were. But for the most part, they left you alone. The girls never really harassed you for it, they simply distanced themselves, thinking that you’d fall in love with every girl you interact with.

Although it should, It didn’t really bother you that much—it was just highschool after all. You were just content that you don’t get bullied for it, and it wasn’t like people considered you to be a loser; you were just different. Pretty soon you’d be done with highschool and move on with your life, and hopefully pursue a career in music.

Besides, you were an absolute introverted wallflower—which is also the reason why it really came as a shock to you when Daniela approached you with the interest that she showed. But then again, even if she wasn’t into girls, you knew that she wouldn’t treat you like trash; the latina was known to be social, and unlike others, she isn’t a mean girl.

Turning to a corner, holding onto the strap of your guitar case, you made your way towards the music room which was usually unoccupied during lunch hour. As you made your way towards the room, you heard a familiar voice that you would recognize anywhere.

"No, I'm serious, that's just how it went," You heard Daniela say. You peaked into the deserted hallway minus the two blondes who were standing by the door of a girl's bathroom.

You didn't want to eavesdrop on their conversation, however, curiosity got the best of you, so you took a step back, just enough so that you wouldn't be seen by the pair, but not far enough that you wouldn't hear them. As much as you felt like a creep, listening in on their conversation, you told yourself that it was the only way to the music room that you always went to, and you simply didn't want to bother the pair by announcing your presence.

"So you're telling me," you heard Hailey's voice echo through the hall despite their hushed voices, "I'm lowkey the reason why you're in that situation right now?"

"Well yeah," Daniela responds, “I met Y/N that night because you pretty much ditched her and stole her notes.”

You stood there perplexed, unsure if you heard the girl right—did she actually just mention you to her friend? It wasn’t that unusual especially since Hailey saw you and Daniela ‘hanging out’ during the weekend, but the blonde never really brought the topic up to you, so you assumed that she wouldn’t talk about you to her friend either.

The banging on your chest was so intense that you were afraid they might actually hear them. You were nervous at what Daniela was going to tell her friend; was she going to say that she’s friends with you? Will she finally admit that the two of you are dating? You didn’t want to expect much, but with all the blonde’s actions for the past week, you couldn’t help but be hopeful that it was the latter.

However, nothing could have possibly prepared you for the things that were about to come out of your girlfriend’s mouth.

“It was all fun and games until she became obsessed with me,” Daniela says which was immediately followed by a laugh from Hailey, “Like she keeps asking me to meet up and shit.”

“God I can only imagine, I mean, I noticed that she’s been giving you these puppy eyes when you’re not looking,” Hailey says, “Guess she’s really crazy about you now.”

You could pretty much feel and hear your heart shattering to a million pieces as you hear Daniela talk shit about you to her friend. The utter betrayal coming from the latina was absolutely unexpected. Tears start to form in your eyes as you gripped your guitar case tighter, wanting nothing more than to smash the instrument on the wall beside you.

“I seriously can’t get rid of her, it’s insane,” Daniela said, laughing. Even without seeing the girl, you could imagine the smile from her tone alone, her sweet voice spouting such bullshit about you, and there was nothing you could do but stand there pathetically.

You contemplated on whether you should make your presence known or just leave so that you could have time to process the fact that your girlfriend basically just stabbed you in the back. Peaking into the corner, hoping for a one last glance, you saw that the girls had moved from the position that they were in when you first saw them—with Hailey’s back facing you, and Daniela’s eyes ultimately meeting yours that were filled with unshed tears.

The look of surprise from the latina caused them to finally stain your cheeks. Daniela stood there in panic, but did nothing, not even listen to the other blonde who was oblivious of your presence and was standing there uttering homophobic things about you.

Anger immediately replaced the hurt that you felt from the lack of action coming from your girlfriend as she shifted her gaze from yours back to her friend, acting like nothing was wrong.

You grabbed onto your guitar and fled the scene, needing to escape the girl altogether, you exited the school despite still having a couple of classes later in the day, and went to the place you knew you would find solace in.

The bar was practically empty when you arrived, usually being busy during the night. You set your stuff down on a table near the small podium meant for performers, after ordering a snack and a drink, you sat yourself on the barstool in the middle of the stage and started fiddling with your guitar.

The notes were all over the place, a perfect reflection of your current headspace, still in absolute shock at the scene you’ve witnessed earlier. Your mind went back to the words that Daniela said, how she wanted to get rid of you. You can’t help but doubt the relationship that you had with her—was this her truth all along?

But thinking about your relationship, you knew that this wasn’t the case; sure you were completely enamored by the girl, but between the two of you, she was the one who was more physically affectionate, always texting and calling to meet up, holding you at every chance she gets, stealing a kiss when she knows that no one would see.

Still, you felt the betrayal seep through those happy memories—you couldn’t help but feel like you were taken advantage of.

Your train of thoughts were interrupted by a sudden ring of your phone, and upon grabbing the device, you could see her adorable contact photo, a picture you snapped while she was snoozing.

Rolling your eyes, you rejected her call, and not even a minute passed before Daniela started to call again.

You ignored her calls, until she started texting you.

You put your phone on silent before finally focusing on making coherent chords on your guitar. Hours flew by and people started entering the bar, and when there was enough to consider it a crowd, you started singing.

It always felt safe singing in these places—you didn’t know anyone and nobody knew you. Sure, they could judge you by your ability to sing and play the instrument, but at the end of the day, you weren’t doing it for them, it was all to help you gain experience.

Daniela sat on the couch of your home, her phone clutched on her hand as your mother approached her, handing her a glass of water, “She usually stays out late,” your mother tells her, “She’s probably in some cafe singing again.”

Earlier today, the latina sat inside her mustang waiting for you to respond to her calls and texts, unsure whether you were home. When it started to get dark, she finally got out of her car, approached your window to throw some tiny pebbles until your mother arrived and saw her.

Fortunately for the blonde, the lady was not mad, making up an excuse telling her that she’s a friend from school and needed to vent about her (nonexistent) boyfriend. The mother only laughed, saying something along the lines of, “Oh I know what you mean.”

That was until she opened her twitter and saw the recent update of the little bar you frequented in.

The latina immediately excused herself, thanking your mother for her hospitality, before speeding towards her car, hoping to get there on time.

Daniela was just about to pull up at a parking lot when she spotted you, still sporting your school bag and carrying your guitar behind your back. She immediately exited the vehicle and called out for you.

The familiar voice made you freeze on the spot, not expecting her to be here. Unbeknownst to you, the bar had given her your location when you really dreaded seeing her.

“Please let’s talk,” Daniela says, out of breath as she reaches you, a hand on her chest, trying to slow down her heartbeat.

You took a deep breath, you back facing the blonde, “What’s there to talk about?”

Before the blonde could utter a word, you beat her to it, “Careful, Daniela,” you said sarcastically, “You wouldn’t want this crazy bitch obsessing over you.”

The girl didn’t respond. Instead, you felt her soft hands fit into yours, pulling you and turning you to face her. For the first time since you’ve seen her in the hallway, you were able to look into her eyes and saw the utter hurt, tears threatening to fall, and something else, something you couldn’t quite point your finger at.

The girl pursed her lips, causing her dimples to show, taking a deep breath, she speaks, “I am so sorry. I promise you, I didn’t mean any of that,” she says, her eyes desperately scanning yours.

The longer you stare into them, the more evident it was—fear. You saw hints of them in the early weeks of your relationship, especially when both of you were doing something pretty risky. She feared that she would get caught with you.

Standing before you, with both hands desperately holding onto your left, Daniela feared nothing more than the mere thought of you leaving her. She knew she fucked up. The girl was aware of the hurt that you tried to mask every time she made an effort to hide your relationship, but she tried to convince herself that there’s nothing she could do—it’s simply what had to be done.

Daniela saw through the mask that you constantly wore to make her feel more secure in your relationship, and saw the pain in your eyes despite matching it with a smile or a comforting assurance. But she knew that nothing could compare to the hurt that was etched on your face when you caught her talking to her friend.

She fucked up. She finally did it this time. All she could hope for is that you could find it in you to forgive her and give her a chance. ‘Just one,’ Daniela thought, ‘Just this once.’

For the first time since the whole exchange, she felt your body respond to her, tightening your grip on her hands before letting go completely, “I don't know what more I should give, Daniela.”

Your tears finally falling from your eyes, “I tried being considerate, understanding you, giving you your space when you ask for it, giving you affection when you’d allow it,” you took a deep breath before meeting her tearful eyes, “I feel like I have given you my all, and there’s just nothing left for me.”

Daniela started shaking her head, still in denial, wanting, needing you to listen to her, to hear her out, but you continued, “I can’t do this anym—”

“I love you,” Daniela interrupted, her eyes wretchedly searching for hope in yours.

“That is so unfair,” you exclaimed. Staring at the blonde in disbelief, you laughed sarcastically, more tears falling onto your cheeks in the process, “Now you’re gonna tell me you love me? Wow.”

You shook your head, feeling absolutely emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed, “I can’t, Daniela.”

With the latina begging through her eyes, you continued, “Isn’t that what you always told me? Now you’re the one who’s gonna need to adjust.”

“We’re over. I’m done.”

Over the course of the past few days, Daniela did not fail to call and text you, coming over by your house, a bouquet of roses in her hand, hoping that you would take pity on her and finally let you in.

Earlier in the day, she decided to finally approach you in school, a singular rose tucked in the pocket inside her jacket, thinking that you might pay attention to her when people are around, and perhaps it would earn her extra points to give the girl she’s been hiding a flower in front of those who would see.

Alas, you ignored all her advances and when she was finally about to do something reckless, you pulled her into an empty hall just to scold her and ask her to leave you alone.

Now, she was at a house party with her ‘friends’ drowning the sorrow with whatever cheap beer and whiskey was available.

The more the latina drank, the more she lost her grip on reality, and the more she had no control of the bullshit she’s spewing.

The sober her would never say the words she’s saying right now, but at the moment, she didn’t know that—all that mattered to her was the approval of her peers; to conform and to belong.

“She’s literally crazy, you guys, I don’t even know how to get rid of her at this point,” Daniela slurs her words, “Like seriously, at first I just wanted a distraction from all the drama, y’know with my breakup and school, but I,” She takes another sip from her cup before continuing.

“I just can’t get myself to actually flirt with another guy,” Daniela says, knowing deep inside that it’s true; she’s sick of boys.

“I just broke up with Jake,” taking another sip from her cup, she prepared herself for what she’s about to say because despite being intoxicated, she knows it is bullshit, “And I still miss him, y’know? I’m not ready to move on, and that girl was just there, so easy to talk to, and she did her part entertaining me.”

“But now, she’s just obsessed”

Hailey nods at her friend’s words, laughing at her situation, “Yeah she’s totally giving me stalker vibes, god, I can’t believe you did all that for free drinks at her gigs,” the other blonde says, “Don’t get me wrong babe, I respect the hustle–I think it’s smart, but damn I wouldn’t even attempt that with her; she’s just psycho.”

They all continued partying until Hailey brings up the topic once again, “Wait, I have an idea!”

The latina looks at her in question, so Hailey continues, “Scare her! Just scare her, I mean, she’s a psycho stalker, just go up to her with like a hammer or something, and tell her you’ll end her or call the cops on her if she doesn’t let you go.”

And that’s what they did; the drunken friend group drove to your address, the pack blasting some white boys music, laughing at what may happen.

As much as Daniela tried to hide her true feelings, she couldn’t exactly stop the physical reaction to what was happening, her hands shaking as they held a shovel, the only thing in the trunk of their friend’s car that could resemble a scary weapon.

She wanted to back out—but the alcohol clouding her brain took over and she just can’t think rationally. She’s worried that if she backed out, her friends would realize that she’s lying about everything. Deep in her intoxicated brain, she also saw this as an opportunity; she knew that seeing her as drunk as she is, with her stupid drunk ‘friends’ watching, you would finally talk to her, perhaps keep her till she sobers up so that she wouldn’t have to ride in a car driven by another drunk teenager.

Yes, that plan seemed absolutely rational to Daniela.

Not long after, the car stopped suddenly, crashing onto a random trash can before she heard her friend say, “We’re here!”

Daniela walked out of the car and into the cold night, her hand still shaking from the nerves. She tried to feel inside her jacket, checking that the singular rose tucked inside the inner pocket is still there, she walked up to the doorstep of your home, sending you a quick text, unsure whether she’s hoping that you’re awake or hoping that you won’t see her message.

Daniela could feel her heart pounding out of her chest in anticipation. She sends another text before looking back at her friends, their car still in park, also wanting to witness the exchange between you and the latina. She glanced at her phone and immediately felt her heart drop at the sight of your chat bubble showing.

A few minutes passed and Daniela could hear the soft footsteps coming closer, then a rustle behind the door. Not long after, the door opened and revealed you in all your glory. Well, not really; you were barefaced and in your pajamas, but to the dancer standing in front of you, you looked stunning.

The girl’s heart sank when she saw the unamused look on your face, especially when your eyes darted towards the car in the distance as one of her friends shouted a homophobic slur directed towards you.

You clenched your fists at the sight of Daniela’s friends, and if you were being completely honest, you were also pissed at the fact that the latina had the nerve to show up at your doorstep, at four in the morning no less.

Daniela’s grip on the shovel tightened as she kept hearing her friends insult you with slurs, and in her intoxicated state, she couldn’t mask the hurt that painted her expression. “Daniela,” you called, voice soft enough that she almost missed it, “What is this?”

The girl looked up to meet your gaze, and with her eyes finally visible, you could see the pain in them. As much as the slurs annoyed you, it didn’t bother you that much, at least not as much as the latina seemed to be. And it dawned on you.

You both were on the same boat—she was also getting insulted by those slurs coming from her friends.

“Please let me in,” Daniela said, her tone begging. You could see the tears starting to form in her eyes so you stepped back into the house with the girl following you, looking all high and mighty. You didn’t miss how she signaled her friends to leave before she closed the door.

Before she had the chance to turn and face you, you started questioning her, “What the fuck is this, Daniela?”

The latina’s shoulders slumped, her grip on the shovel loosened, “I’m sorry,” Daniela starts, “I don’t know what has gotten into me, I’m really sorry, please.”

She lets go of the shovel, immediately reaching for the heavily damaged rose, holding onto the poor flower, trying and failing to make it look presentable before offering the lone flower to you, “Baby, I’m really sorry, please. Please, this is all a mistake, please take me back.”

When Daniela realized that you weren’t moving, she reached for your hand hoping that she could place the rose into them, but you immediately pulled your hand back, and as much as you felt utter disappointment towards the girl in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel bad at the look of hurt and inferiority that the dancer had.

“You’re so pathetic,” you said, voicing your thoughts. You felt the need to be completely honest with her, especially knowing that she must be struggling with honesty right now—she couldn’t be true to herself, so you’ll do it for her.

“You let your friends dictate your actions? You let them turn you into something you’re clearly not? Daniela,” the latina looks up to meet your gaze at the mention of her name, “I—” you sighed, “You should know better.”

“We’re done.” You kept your gaze on hers, the intensity in your eyes was enough proof that you were serious about this, “Your friends think that I’m some obsessed fan of yours,” you started, “They think I can’t let you go? Well guess what I can. And I will.”

You grabbed your phone, calling an uber for the intoxicated dancer standing in your living room. While waiting for the car to arrive, you got her a glass of water and a coffee in a to-go cup, hoping that she would sober up for the ride.

Daniela felt embarrassed. She didn’t even know what to say. You were right—she knew that. So she stood there in defeat, staring at her feet as though they were the most interesting thing to ever exist while you tried to help her get home safely. She didn’t even deserve that from you. That she knew, which was precisely why she couldn’t get herself to raise her gaze to meet yours.

“Text me when you get home,” she heard your voice say, “But that will be the only time you’ll ever contact me, Daniela. I don’t ever want to hear from you again.”

The girl couldn’t do anything but nod. The moment she stepped into the car, her eyes became faucets as her tears freed themselves.

Returning to your room, you pulled out your phone to check your socials. You immediately see Daniela’s drunken tweets with her friend.

Just as you were about to turn your phone off, you received a notification, expecting that it was from the blonde latina. However, you were surprised to see that it was a message from a different blonde.

As you read through her words and watched the video, exposing what they all talked about earlier during the party, Daniela stepped out of the vehicle and entered her house, it was big, cold, and depressing.

The latina immediately took out her phone to send you a quick message to tell you that she arrived, she waited for a response that never came. Daniela stared helplessly at the read receipt, her legs giving up on her, falling onto the floor with tears streaming down her face and sobbing uncontrollably.

a/n: yn knows her worth and that she deserves better!! we love her for that!!

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