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rosachae · 2 months ago

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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.

1K notes · View notes

ssivinee · 9 days ago

Text

「 Never Getting off my Mind 」

l. sophia x f reader ✎𓂃 Everyone loves Sophia Laforteza—she’s basically the golden girl of the school. But for some reason, you’ve never really liked her, and the feeling seems mutual. You’re close with her friends, somehow always around without actually being part of the group. The two of you clash constantly, especially in Student Committee meetings. People say you’d make a great pair, but it’s hard to tell if that’s a compliment or a warning.

word count ! 11.8 k

tags ! enemies to lovers, dom! reader, top! reader, bottom! sophia, switch! sophia, jealous! sophia, overstimulation, rough sex, fingering (s! receiving), oral (s! receiving), cunnilingus, heavy making out, usage of many pet names, a little degradation, teasing, praise

author's note ! fic inspo is this song and if u haven't seen the mv for this... its simple but effective for the wuh luh wuh is all ill say 🥰

also like dont be quiet! comment, reblog, send anons IDC LETS BE FRIENDS PLS #lonelyandnofriends

Riuscita University is a world-renowned school, producing some of the best in multiple fields, and having a successful alumni. A school that thrives and encourages its students to be plausible mentors of their crafts in due time.

Normally, students disliked school. It can be boring, hectic, soul-crushing, and cause crashouts. Yet, almost 90% of Riuscita students love the school.

The campus has this ultra-modern look, multiple buildings, large fields, and the atmosphere is always lively. Many people would describe the school to be similar to Pepperdine University or, commonly known as, Pacific Coast Academy of Zoey 101.

A dream school for many and a goal for most to achieve, only a handful get picked to become a Riuscita student.

Though a successful group of students are Sophia, Manon, Daniela, Megan, Lara, and Yoonchae. Many people knew the girls who always emphasized that ‘blood is thicker than water’ for them.

It started with Sophia and Manon, who were friends from their previous high school, then Daniela, who joined the duo when she met Manon in a Psychology class. Lara was from the same high school, and Megan met Dani in her first year in Dance. Yoonchae, the latest addition, is a freshman who just clicked with the five girls.

It’s reality, but the girls somehow made their reality become a movie experience.

They’re the diverse popular girls of campus, from students wanting to be their friend, students wanting to be them, or students wanting to date them. Some people wanted all three—that’s how much influence they have.

Everyone had their role, and all six girls seemed to ‘play’ it well.

Sophia, who is the evident ‘leader’ amongst the girls, holds the most power. The Student Government President of Riuscita is adored by every single person to exist on campus, and that alone made her the jolliest girl.

“I’ve been wanting to try a hot stone massage on someone—if anyone's down at least,” Daniela spoke, her eyes on her iPad, then looking at her friends who sat around the circular table.

“Hot Stone Massage?” Megan perks up at the info, Dani nodding at the younger. “Is that for your massage therapy class?” Lara asks, and while the Latina happily nods, Manon chuckles.

“I can’t believe that’s an actual class here. How do you even get graded? Massaging your Professor? Because that would be weird,” Manon gives her two senses, and the younger sticks her tongue out.

“It’s an easy class, and we’re graded by tests and participation, party pooper.”

“I may need that massage,” the words escape Sophia’s lips, her acrylic nails clacking on the keyboard of her laptop while her eyes flash across the screen multiple times. She shuts the computer as she finishes, staring at Dani with tired eyes, “Student Government is going to be busy, and I need all the mental fortitude I can get.”

“Cause the semester just started?”

Sophia nods at Yoonchae’s question, the younger girl tossing some chips into her mouth. “The last president planned so much for the student welcoming that we have events the entire month.” Lara’s lips pursed, a look of confusion in her eyes, “Can’t you just rearrange or cancel some of them? You are this year's president after all.”

“And be the girl who ruined everyone’s fun this year? Yeah, no can do,” Sophia says matter-of-factly, her shoulders raised at the dilemma.

“You have good staff this year—I’m sure they’ll have your back on everything,” Manon tells her, but Sophia could only tell herself that once, then fail to believe it every other time.

Oh, and Sophia being adored by everyone? Yeah, the fact is somewhat false.

Because there is one person who doesn’t.

“Oh look! I guess Y/n already started posting on the school page,” Lara says excitedly as she shows Megan the post.

Sophia could only roll her eyes at the sound of your name.

Y/n L/n. Part of the student government as the social media manager, all-rounder in every aspect, and super involved in Riuscita’s activities.

It could be argued that you and Sophia are the most adored students on campus, but the Filipina wouldn’t dare admit to that. Because you were the only one who didn’t like her, and you could say the feeling is mutual, with her not liking you either.

There isn’t an exact sequence of how it all happened, but Sophia always recalled why it started in the first place. During her second year, Sophia began building this sophisticated, intelligent, and leader-like brand, which is why she’s in the position she is today.

That year was when she first met you, when you became a shadow for the previous social media manager.

Sophia had the intention of making sure she was friends with everyone, no matter what the cost was. But none of those efforts worked on you—none at all.

When Sophia bought the student government food, you wouldn’t eat the food or thank her; you’d just eat a snack from the school’s vending machines. When she helped make you the homeroom representative during the third year, there wasn’t an ounce of gratitude. When the school had an awarding ceremony and you didn’t shake her hand while on stage.

The last straw for her was when you became Yoonchae’s big sister in the buddy program, then proceeded to find out all the girls were friends with you… other than her.

Sophia couldn’t even express her rage and irritation with you in peace because the other five constantly defended you.

“Y/n helps a lot of the students in the wellness club. She’s honestly so helpful.” —Manon

“She did the choreography for dance club—during the 2 weeks I sprained my ankle.” —Daniela

“The coach called me boring, and Y/n helped me get better!” —Megan

“Gosh, I struggled writing lyrics yesterday, and Y/n stayed with me after club hours to complete it!” —Lara

“Oh yeah, I helped Y/n-unnie cook some Bulgogi for Cultural Awareness! She’s a really good cook.” —Yoonchae

That wasn’t even the end of it all, but Sophia had trained herself to have selective hearing when it came to you. She often zoned out when you became the topic of conversation, because even if you weren’t friends with her, you had become this looming, phantom 7th member of the group.

And oh, how she fucking hated that.

Sophia made up her mind about you. Unfortunately, she thought about it quite a lot—why you didn’t like her, why you didn’t interact with her, or how you became her friend’s friend.

She jogged it up to the two of you being completely different people, and you would think, due to her smarts, that she knew what the real reason was. But she’s just plain wrong.

“Oh shit, my class starts in five minutes.”

Sophia gets brought back to reality when she hears Megan’s chair scrape the concrete, her body fleeing away before she could even comprehend her words.

“I have class in thirty, but it’s also across campus, so I need to start walking,” Manon tells the four left, leaving them to make her way to one of the farther buildings of the school.

The Filipina’s eyes drift to the time on her phone, finding the time to be 9:15, “Ugh, I have a meeting, so I gotta go. Kill me now.” Lara giggles at the attitude, while Yoonchae and Dani wave the older off.

Sophia made her way to the school’s main building, her plain Mary Jane shoes thumping on the floor, and took the elevator to her respected floor. Both her devices were held close to her chest, hugging them so they wouldn’t slip, while her shoulder had a large purse placed on it.

While entering the spacious room, many of the students inside straightened their posture, and whoever sat down immediately stood up. You're the only exception, leaning against the wall with the window open, staring at your phone.

Sophia noticed the focus on your face, brows scrunched together as your thumbs tapped away.

Staring straight at you, she raises her voice, “Everyone, take a seat please, let’s get this meeting started!”

Everyone scrambles to their seat while you don’t even flinch, just turning off your phone and walking over to the opposite side of the meeting table. She could only hold back the urge to roll her eyes, taking a seat while looking through her tablet.

“Gabriella wanted to do six projects before the end of this month for a proper school welcoming,” Sophia says while everyone begins typing through their own laptops, using Google Docs for notes or a group spreadsheet.

When looking up, she finds you scrolling through your phone again, luckily, everyone’s focused on listening to her words as she successfully rolled her eyes in a discreet way this time.

“Are we able to complete the baking fundraiser, the car wash fundraiser, the welcoming party by the end of this month, two career fairs, and a guest lecture?”

This time, Sophia’s worried tone has you turning your phone off, looking at everyone else in the room who nods.

You shift in your chair, leaning forward with your elbows on the table while suggesting a proper schedule. “Can I suggest a schedule?”

Sophia bit her tongue, only nodding her head to let you proceed.

“Everyone expects a fun time at school, so we should begin with the baking fundraiser. It’ll help students get acquainted with delicious baked goods. We also already have a bakery in mind from an alumnus who's willing to provide the food for us.”

You then take out your phone, staring at the calendar for dates. “We should then spread out everything. The second week can be the fundraiser and career fair for earlier students. The guest lecture and the second fundraiser should follow next week. Last week should be the car wash, it’ll generate more money on a Monday since students and staff would be driving in for the entire day. Then the last Friday should be the party, so almost everyone won’t have work the next day.”

Instead of acknowledging the plan, Sophia turns to the vice president, assistant, and event coordinator, “Does that seem doable for us?”

“Other than the fact that we’ll have to slow down events the next month, then it's doable.”

“That’s fine, club activities will probably happen by then. I’ll have Laurence oversee that.”

The Club Activities Manager stiffens when she says his name, and you press your lips together to stifle a laugh. While everyone seems to their panties in a bunch around her, you could almost just laugh while everyone looks like they’re about to piss themselves.

The Student Government Assistant, Kayla, who would suck up to Sophia, smiled at her. “I’ll start adding events to the calendars and sending everyone their jobs by the end of tonight.”

Sophia grants this graceful smile while the younger girl gets right to her job. “Is the guest speaker going to be ready by the following week?”

“We’ll get in touch with them and keep you updated.” “Budgets and decorations?” Sophia’s eyes flicker to the other end of the table.

“We have a budget of twenty thousand for all six events from school funds and backers. We’ll make sure to make do with what we can.”

“The first fundraiser should happen within two days time, reach out to the bakery before closing time,” she tells the vice president. Everyone nods along while you just think about how muscular your feet are about to be by the end of the month, with all the walking.

“I’ll have Kayla send everyone any extra details. I’ll be here until 12, so please reach out to me if anything is needed,” Sophia tells everyone, adjourning the meeting. You try to exit the room as quickly as possible, but Carl stops you first, that friendly smile he always gave you easing the annoyance.

“I think I’m gonna need some help with the clubs for next month,” he gives you these puppy eyes, and you cackle, catching Sophia’s attention.

“I’ll list possible events some groups have, then I’ll report it to you by the end of this month.”

Carl squeals, like his usual self, and gives you a tight hug, “You're the best Y/n!”

While Carl tries to crush your bones, you catch the glare that Sophia gives you from afar, eliciting a smile from you.

“Piss off,” the Filipina mutters and focuses back on speaking to Kayla and the vice president.

You leave the room, heading to your first class of the day, which is luckily in the same building. The hallways were a bit warm due to multiple students crowding in their own little groups. You slip through the side entrance of the Life Sciences wing of the building, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag.

It was the first real week of the semester, but luckily, most of your professors seemed laid back. You went to the third floor for your Aging and Chronic Illness class, happening in one of the building’s newer lab-style classrooms. It’s one of your final requirements to graduate as a Gerontology major, and the content wasn't so bad. Professor Cho, who had a gentle grandma energy, made sure of that.

You walk in and immediately make your way to the front row, second seat from the left. “Damn, early again?”

Raya’s voice comes from behind in a teasing manner. She’s holding two protein bars in one hand, and she tosses one at you before pulling out her chair. “Thanks,” you mumble, catching it with one hand. You tear off the wrapper and toss your bag under the table in a smooth motion.

Raya plops into the seat beside you, crossing one leg over the other. “So... how’s your morning been? Anyone try to fight you yet?”

You snort. “Close. Sophia gave me another one of her death stares during the meeting.”

Raya rolls her eyes. “Again?”

“Yeah,” you deadpan, chewing your bar slowly. “I think her brain almost exploded when Carl hugged me.” Raya leans forward with her arms on the desk, grinning like she already knew where this was going. “You love pissing her off.”

You shrug. “I don’t love it. It’s unintentional.”

She gives you a look of, ‘Oh, be for real right now.’ “You act so different with her compared to literally everyone else. Like, I’ve seen you sit with freshmen crying over their GPA, and you’re all comforting and ‘here’s a snack, it’s okay,’ but then Sophia breathes and you look like you want to stand in a lane with fast cars.”

You raise a brow. “She ‘started’ it.”

Raya snickers and shakes her head, clearly amused. “You are the weirdest social butterfly I’ve ever met.”

“She just… rubs me the wrong way. Like we’re oil and water.”

“You say that like you haven’t thought about it enough,” she teases, half-turning toward you. “Is it really just a vibe thing?”

“Of course.” You don’t meet her eyes. “I mean, yeah. She’s fake and controlling and… I don’t know, I just don’t like her.”

“That actually seems like a fair statement to make, but you don’t even know her,” she says softly, her voice sing-song.

Before you can argue or give her another look, the door swings open, and Professor Cho walks in. Raya pulled her notebook out while you took out your own. The professor clicks the projector on, the screen behind her lighting up with a slideshow labeled: “AGING AND CHRONIC ILLNESS – WEEK 2: Psychological Perspectives on Aging”

“Good morning, everyone,” she says, her voice calm. “Today we’re going to start looking into how the aging process affects cognition, behavior, and emotional development, especially in relation to chronic illness.”

You zone in, but Raya bumps your arm lightly with her elbow before class fully starts.

"Wanna bet you and Sophia will be friends before graduation?"

You give her a death stare and scoff. "I’m not wasting my money, but also not happening."

“Pussyyyyyy~”

“Oh, be quiet and focus, please.”

Two days went by quicker than expected, and it was finally time for the first event of the Student Government.

The central courtyard, normally home to passer-by students and people doing assignments, had been transformed into an outdoor bakery.

White booths lined the concrete path, decorated with royal blue streams due to the school colors. The air was full of sweet scents—sugar, cinnamon, and warm butter that could make anyone salivate. Banners hung from light poles, proudly reading, ‘Welcome Back Fundraiser!’ and ‘Butter & Bloom Bakery here today!’

Clarisse, class of 2012 and former culinary student, was something of a legend on campus. Her bakery had since expanded to three cities, and the fact that she came back for this event had half the culinary majors geeking out.

Over 5,000 baked goods had been delivered by truck early that morning by her catering team. From lemon poppyseed madeleines to boxes stacked high with ube-stuffed croissants, the bakery had sent a variety. There were eclairs piped with vanilla cream, matcha macarons in pastel boxes, and yes, an entire glass display case for multiple cupcake flavors.

The school took 30% of the proceeds for their various club and scholarship funds, while the bakery kept the remaining 70%, though she promised to donate back a large portion “just because.”

The booths had been open since 9 in the morning. By 11:30, Sophia was sitting on a sun-warmed bench near the fountain, her dainty fingers holding a glazed lemon tart with brûléed sugar on top, and a candied slice of lemon perched right in the center.

“Okay, I get it now,” she says after the first bite, eyes wide in delight. “This is insane.”

“I told you Clarisse wasn’t playing around,” Manon hums, pulling apart a chocolate-hazelnut cruffin. Daniela, beside her, got a cinnamon-apple twist, sticky with glaze. “If I die today, bury me in one of these.”

“You’d attract ants,” Yoonchae pipes up, munching on a ube cookie while giving a disgusted look. Lara, the most practical of the six currently, is carefully using a fork and knife to eat a tres leches cupcake on a paper plate. “Did you guys see the brownie cheesecake hybrid thing? I couldn’t even look at it.”

Megan nods, her fingers brushing powdered sugar from her lips as she finishes a strawberry mochi donut. “I took a pic of it for my insta. I think I fell in love.”

Sophia, basking in the rare moment of calmness, let herself lean back slightly to take in the sun, legs crossed at the ankles, the hem of her skirt brushing her thigh. “This was a good idea,” she admits, almost begrudgingly. “The turnout’s great, Clarisse looks like a celebrity, and everything is functioning.”

Somewhere across the courtyard, a loud laugh pierces the air. Students shuffle between booths, and the music playing from the outdoor speakers continues to blast with soft pop music.

Sophia glances up toward the crowd.

You were doing laps around the event like a trained soldier. Wearing your usual plain white tee, camera slung around your shoulder, and a phone in one hand, you were busy directing shots, snapping crowd photos, close-ups of the pastries, and even artsy scenery pictures of the decorated campus.

You were exhausted, being there since 6:30 that morning, helping set up banners, guiding Clarisse’s team, and making sure the layout was symmetrical enough for the drone shots the school planned on using later.

But finally—finally—you had time for a small break.

You made your way to the cupcakes because they were calling your name as soon as you saw them that morning. There were a variety of flavors, ranging from plain vanilla to even a red bean-flavored sweet.

You picked a red velvet cupcake since it was your favorite flavor, tapping your phone screen to snap a quick picture of it before paying, and finally, letting yourself enjoy something sweet for once.

“Y/n!”

You turned your head to see Megan approaching, her drink in hand—something lavender-colored in a tall plastic cup with tapioca pearls. Could only assume it was taro bubble tea from the milk tea stand.

“Hey,” you said with a tired grin, your voice a bit hoarse from hours of talking.

“Don’t tell me you just now got something to eat,” Megan says, half-scolding.

“I did. Needed to make sure I got the best shots before sundown.”

Megan laughs, standing beside you as you unwrap the red velvet cupcake. “You work too hard. But you looked cool doing it, not gonna lie.”

“I always look cool.”

You show her the screen of your phone—a short boomerang of Clarisse handing out mini boxes to students, followed by a gallery of vibrant pictures. Some pastries lined in neat rows, smiling students mid-bite, and a close-up of the welcome banner swaying with the wind. Then you swipe to your camera—a DSLR that gleamed with how well taken care of it was.

“Some of these are getting passed off to the editor.”

Megan leans in and gasps softly. “Wait, go back— that one!”

You scroll back two photos—a candid shot of Sophia holding the tart earlier, eyes bright, smile wide.

“I’m gonna need you to send that to me,” she declares instantly. “You’re so talented, it’s actually annoying,” she says, nudging your shoulder. “Anyway, I should get back before they send out a search party.”

“Tell Sophia I’m still alive,” you joke, waving her off as she heads back toward the bench.

When Megan returns to the group, she’s practically bouncing. “I just saw Y/n!” Sophia doesn’t look up from her phone, but her brows twitch ever so slightly.

“Oh yeah?” Lara asks, licking some frosting off her fork.

“Yeah, she was by the cupcake stand. She got such pretty photos—like, she showed me some? They're so good, it made me want to scream.”

“She always has that eye,” Daniela adds, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I saw some of the shots she did for the Spring Gala last year, and they looked like they should be in a magazine.”

“She took this one of Sophia,” Megan says, holding out her phone with the picture you had just sent from your phone. “Look how good it is—like she’s glowing.”

The girls crowd around to look, and Manon lets out a low whistle. “Okay, that’s actually stunning. You look like you’re in an ad.”

“Of course it looks good,” Sophia says, voice tight, her tone sharp enough to cut. “It’s literally her job.”

The comment has the other five girls pause, turning to her slowly. “Damn, who pissed in your latte?” Dani mutters under her breath.

Manon raises a brow. “You okay over there, Supreme Leader?”

Sophia glares. “I just don’t think we need to throw her a parade for doing what she’s paid to do.”

“She’s not paid, unnie,” Yoonchae chimes in, “She’s technically on scholarship.” Sophia presses her lips together. “Same thing.”

Megan tries to lighten the mood. “I’m just saying—she’s got talent, okay? And taste. You should’ve seen the shot she got of me. I looked gorgeous.”

“I’m sure,” Sophia mutters.

“I mean, she made you look extra good,” Manon teases, sipping her iced coffee with a smirk. “Maybe you should ask her for a photoshoot.”

Daniela snorts, taking her last bite while saying, “She’d start a fight before that ever happened.”

“You guys are so annoying,” Sophia groans, standing up abruptly, the remains of her lemon tart left in a cute container.

The girls erupt into laughter. “She’s blushing!” Lara exclaims, pointing at her. “I’m not!” Sophia snaps, already walking away.

“I’ll ask Y/n to take a couple of shots of you next time,” Manon calls after her. “Maybe you’ll stop hating her if she gets your good side.”

“Every side is my good side,” Sophia fires back, but her cheeks are pink. The girls are still giggling when she disappears into the crowd.

Sophia didn’t understand the hype around you despite everyone’s admiration. Sure, you were involved in multiple school activities, but that didn’t mean you were on her level.

That’s what Sophia told herself, at least.

But if you asked everyone on campus, everyone would say you two are alike, even if either of you didn’t admit to it. You had a similar charm and a natural-born leader-like aura, even if you only had minor roles within the activities you participated in.

The list is quite surprising, actually. You are the Student Government’s social media manager, part of the Buddy Program, a member of the cultural awareness club, music club, wellness club, vice captain of the school’s dance team, and have helped out with fundraisers.

You made sure to get all the experience you could while being on a scholarship, and all the efforts paid off after four years. Everyone recognized your efforts, even Sophia did deep down.

“Ugh, get out of my head,” she groans quietly, trying to make sure no one sees a stressed version of Sophia Laforteza out in the wild.

Although to her luck, the one person she would’ve liked to avoid stopped in their tracks at the sight of her gripping her dark locks.

You held the camera right to your chest, looking toward the left, where you found her behind one of the booths.

Sophia’s face morphed into disappointment. “This cannot be happening right now,” she muttered.

She sees this amusement in your eyes, the same look you gave her when you successfully annoyed her. There's this tension that feels forbidden to speak of, and all Sophia can do is push past you.

The shove of her shoulder lingered on your own, hand caressing the targeted spot while the other made sure the camera didn’t fall and break.

“Can’t believe my major role in life is to piss off the student president,” your eyes shimmered, but your voice laced with sarcasm.

There’s Sophia’s point of view in this entire “rivalry,” but what about yours?

It was simple. Much simpler than the Filipina made it out to be.

You believed Sophia was a fraud since day 1.

Initially, you thought that the woman wanted to make friends. The way you remembered the first meeting with her is a complete 180 from what she remembers. Because her first interaction with you was when you met her during your prerequisite class during your sophomore year of college, not in the student government.

Sophia’s position at the time was assistant to both the vice president and the student body president at the time. She sucked up to the older girls, making sure she looked good and outshone others.

That’s not how she portrayed it, but that's what it felt like, and you hadn’t liked her ever since. Through the years, there wasn’t any evident change to Sophia’s character, but it made her predictable.

Like when she bought everyone food, gave you a class rep position, hell, even her moving up in the school’s ‘political’ hierarchy made sense.

You simply didn’t like her, completely aware that the feelings were mutual.

The similarities in personalities and work ethic are uncanny between the two of you. Yet the biggest difference was that you have all your friends, connections, and even assignments through effortlessness, while Sophia made it feel like she had to plaster her face on the walls to make sure people paid attention to her.

It’s probably harsh to say, but because of how blunt you are, that’s just how you feel.

You doubt that will ever change, either.

There’s another world or dimension where you and Sophia didn’t know or hate each other, but not in this timeline. Because the next few weeks were about to be you and her spending a lot of time together with all the events happening.

Especially since you took photos of anyone and anything, there was no way she could avoid you.

Just when she didn’t think it could get any worse for her, the world decided to go against her during the second fundraiser.

Sophia knew that you had a persevering and determined work ethic, willing to get work done and to help. She wasn’t aware of what lengths you’d go to help, though.

That day, she could only stop by the parking lot due to a busy schedule and some assignments needing to be done. Once she made it, there were loads of cars lined up—some being rinsed while others were lathered in soap.

Kayla stood next to her, handing the Filipina a clipboard to check if things were running smoothly. Her eyes traveled down to a list of volunteers, where she found one of the wash girls had not made it.

“Didn’t we have 15 students on the list? Why didn’t Giovanna show up?” Sophia squinted behind her shades, and Kayla straightened her posture at the question. “She recently sprained her ankle during soccer practice, so she couldn’t make it.”

“Well, who replaced her?” Before Sophia can finish her question, the younger student points at the red car currently being washed, where she finds you in a cami top and skimpy, low-waisted denim shorts.

Thank the heavens for her large shades. Sophia blinked furiously as if her vision blurred, and one she coughed once, her cheeks almost turned pink through her makeup.

She had never seen this side of you. This hot, sensual one. The white cami you wore had practically gone see-through from the water, the fabric soaked top clinging onto every curve on your body. The denim shorts showed off your legs, how they glistened in the sun like diamonds, covered with water droplets on them.

Don’t even get her started on the midriff she saw peaking through. You rarely ever wore crop tops, at least at any given moment while Sophia’s around. So when she sees your defined abs, the wet top molding into them, she covers her mouth with the palm of her hand at the shock.

“What the hell…?”

“Is she doing here?” Kayla tries to finish the question, Sophia only nodding her head in surprise. “Y/n finished posting on all the socials, so she decided to help out when she saw one team had missing members.”

The older person could only mumble, “What about the high-end cars from larger customers?” “She dries her hands and takes pictures with her phone instead of the camera.”

Sophia can’t even respond, her eyes never leaving you, no matter how busy you were. The strands of your hair are obviously wet, losing their volume as some of it clung to your exposed skin. The way your top had become see-through, the dark blue bra you wore was vibrant through the now sheer top.

Her breath hitches when you flick your hair back upward, making sure it isn’t in front of you. It looked like those movie scenes where the hot girl flings her hair upward while leaving the pool.

…Safe to say that Sophia couldn’t believe that’s actually you.

She had only ever seen you in the professional light, and seeing you like this? Had heat pooling low in her stomach.

The best course of action was to walk away, and she did just that, Kayla following her trail yet falling back due to Sophia’s pace despite in heeled boots.

“Uhm, Sophia? Where are we going?” she hears a trembling voice behind her, and Sophia’s brows furrow, not at the question, but at the fact that her brain couldn’t stop thinking of you.

“I want to check out venues for the welcome party.”

“Outdoors is an option.”

“No. We did the bakery outdoors, and the fact that students and staff will likely be drunk, we can be liable for any mishaps. I’m not taking that chance, Kayla.”

There was urgency in her voice as she walked toward the campus housing office, eyes full of fury as she tried to get her mind off you.

Once Sophia and Kayla got into the room, the younger student began doing what was asked of her while Sophia sat in the waiting area. The blonde had brought a list of usable houses, trying to see which one fit the needs of MANY students.

“Every house isn’t fit for multiple students in the school; the list is pretty much comprised of outdoor venues other than one.”

“The modern-looking house in Beverly Hills?” Kayla nods, and she hears a groan from the senior. “I want a change of scenery and a spot easily accessible for students without cars.”

Before her assistant can respond, Sophia is already standing and walking over to the desk with a formidable walk.

Her hands slam down on the table, causing the employee at the front desk to flinch. Trying to keep her image intact, Sophia gives the man a friendly smile, her nails drumming on the counter. “Julian, right?”

The boy just nods, and she begins to give a very believable performance. “The newly built dormitory just passed the inspection, right? I was hoping we could use it for the welcoming party for students and staff this upcoming Friday. We can restrict it to only the first floor with all the amenities.”

“I’m sorry, Sophia. I’m not sure how doable that’s gonna be.”

Kayla, who does well in acting as her counterpart, leans over the counter with an evil smile, “Get Joe in here, please?”

The boy can only nod, scared to piss off the two, and runs to the back room. About five minutes later, Julian comes out with Joe behind him, who's evidently exhausted from all the work he’s doing.

“Ah, Laforteza. What can I do for you?”

“New dorm as venue for the welcoming party?” Her voice is high-pitched while she speaks fast, in hopes it will get him to agree. Yet she’s well loved by everyone, so why would he say no?

“Done, I’ll fax over the papers of me approving it—I’m sure the dean and principal will sign. If not, and that’s a really low chance, I’ll look for a place that fits your needs.”

“Cool, Kayla, send him the details.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sophia’s charms, unsurprisingly, did their damn thing with Joe.

Technically, the school’s Residential Director, who pretty much operated more like a cool uncle who wandered campus with a hippie shirt on, had successfully made everyone agree to the girls' wishes. One little meeting, a couple of compliments about the architecture of the newly-built Verano Dormitory, and a perfectly packaged proposal from Sophia herself, and the man had agreed.

By Friday night, the lower level—bigger than even some of the academic buildings—was converted into a party den. String lights flickered along the ceiling beams, the color-changing LEDs wrapped around pillars bathed everything in soft blue and gold.

There were food trays near the shared kitchen, music pumping through the large tower speakers, and enough students packed into one building to classify as a slight fire hazard. But amid the music, laughter, and chaos, Sophia sat neatly curled into the corner of one of the velvet couches in the common lounge, back perfectly straight, one arm draped over the cushion.

Manon, Daniela, Lara, Megan, and Yoonchae were on the same couch—three of them well into a couple of drinks by now. Megan and Yoonchae, on the other hand, sat cross-legged in their spots, nursing cans of soda and passing around a pack of gummies.

“Remind me to never mix hard seltzer and Soju again,” Manon muttered, nearly falling into Dani’s lap. “That’s literally what I said when you started mixing them,” Dani giggles, poking her side with a painted nail.

Sophia sipped lightly from her cup—a citrus cocktail someone had made that tasted like melted sugary fruit—and scanned the room like a hawk, making sure she watched everyone.

“I still can’t believe Joe gave us the dorm,” Lara said through a hiccup, tilting her head up. “Like, this space is huge. Do you see that staircase?”

“Do you see how tipsy you are?” Megan asked, snickering.

Sophia smiled a little, only half-listening, her eyes drifting across the room every few seconds. “Presidential duty,” she said earlier, when they asked why she chose the corner seat. “I should be able to observe everyone from here.”

Then a quick, bright flash and shutter sound caught her attention.

You were standing about six feet away from the group, camera raised, snapping a quick photo, hands swiftly clicking the button, looking way too good in a semi-casual fit that made her think something she absolutely shouldn’t.

You didn’t even say hi— just capturing them mid-laughter, unaware until you pulled the camera away from your face. Dani looked up first, waving with a smile. “¡Y/n! ¡Ven acá!” she shouted above the music, motioning you over.

With no hesitation, you look over to the group who considered you a good friend of theirs, of course, other than Sophia.

Sophia didn't move or bat an eye as she glared at you. Dani leaned back slightly, cheeks flushed from drinking and how warm the corner was. “¿Aprendiste la nueva coreografía del club de baile ya o no?” (Did you learn the new choreography from the dance club yet or not?)

You gave a small laugh, nodding as you replied, “La aprendí, sí. Pero también le agregué unas partes nuevas para la segunda mitad. Si quieres, podemos practicar este fin de semana para presentarla.” (I did, yeah. But I also added a few new parts for the second half. If you want, we can practice this weekend to present it.)

“¡Eso me encantaría! ¡Mañana o el domingo?” (I’d love that! Tomorrow or Sunday?)

“Lo que te sirva más. Yo me adapto.”(Whatever works best for you. I can adjust.)

You looked effortlessly cool while speaking to Danila, the other, picking up that the conversation was between the captain and the vice captain of the dance team. But while you talked, Sophia felt like her drink suddenly had much more alcohol in it.

Because hearing you speak Spanish shouldn’t have been anything. But it was smooth and fast. Dani laughed again at something you said, and Sophia just stared. She barely caught half of it, but it didn’t matter. The way you became more relaxed while speaking in another language—it had her all nervous in a way that pissed her off.

It wasn’t fair—she’s supposed to hate you. And yet, here she was, borderline malfunctioning over a few fluent sentences.

You glanced over and caught this unfamiliar look in her eye.

It wasn’t her usual look that silently read condescension or superiority complex. No, Sophia looked caught red-handed for some reason.

You furrow your brows slightly, unsure of what to make of it. Was she drunk? Was that just the lighting? Was she—

“I should let you guys hang out,” you muttered, pulling your camera strap higher onto your shoulder. “I’ll see you all on Monday.”

“Wait!” Yoonchae piped up suddenly from her spot on the couch, eyes wide. “Unnie, don’t forget the buddy scrimmages tomorrow! Volleyball, 1 PM. You’re my partner!”

You groaned sarcastically but smiled anyway. “I didn’t forget. I’ll be there.”

“Good,” she said, all proud and chipper. You gave the group a final nod before slipping back into the crowd, blending in with a group headed toward the refreshment table.

Sophia blinked once—then twice. Her drink was now untouched for the entire interaction. Megan leaned over and nudged her arm. “You good?”

“Huh?” Sophia snapped back. “Yeah. Fine.”

“Mm,” Megan said, raising a brow. “You’ve been real quiet since Dani pulled Y/n over. Just sayin’.”

“Don’t start.”

“You sure? Because you were practically drooling when she started talking.”

“I wasn’t drooling,” Sophia snapped, her voice a little too high-pitched to be believable. “You kind of were,” Manon slurred a bit, lifting her drink with a laugh. “But it’s okay. She’s pretty.”

“She is,” Dani agreed, sighing wistfully. “And she dances so well. Like her body control? Ugh. She could step on me and I’d say thank you.”

“Oh my God,” Sophia muttered, sinking deeper into the couch.

“I’m just saying,” Megan grinned. “You’ve got that look again. You only get that when you're obsessed.”

“I’m not obsessed,” Sophia snapped, cheeks burning.

“Then why are you still staring at the spot she was just standing in?” The girls howled.

Lara spilled her drink on her own leg from laughing so hard. Yoonchae was half-giggling, half-mouthing “Unnie has a crush” in Dani’s direction.

Sophia groaned, hiding her face with one hand. “I hate all of you.”

All of her conflicting feelings made her unsure of how she felt about you.

Before she can make up her mind, Sophia wants to figure out a couple of things first.

You walked through the party, gripping your camera while trying to get to the table full of drinks. Successful enough to get a fruit punch, you take a sip, deep in thought about the look Sophia gave you. There was this interest or longing in her eyes that you’ve never seen before. She’d never been the kind to be shy about her distaste for you—or at least, that’s how it felt.

“Hey.”

You turned, mid-sip, and found a girl named Cynthia who is in your sociology class. Her hair was styled in a sharp bob and gave you a cheery grin. She distinctively always wore those vintage-style earrings and kept an extra highlighter tucked behind her ear while in class. Tonight, though, she was dressed in a cropped blouse, high-waisted pants, and just the right amount of eyeliner.

“Hey,” you greeted, polite but a bit confused at the encounter. You lowered your camera and sipped your drink again, scanning the space for new shots. Cynthia, however, wasn’t going to let the moment pass.

“I saw you across the room,” she said, stepping in just a little closer. Her subtle perfume was sweet and filled your nose. “You look really good tonight.”

You chuckled lightly, giving a modest shrug. “Yeah, well, school made me bring out the big camera. Can’t fully enjoy the party.”

“Well, the camera suits you,” Cynthia replied, head tilted. “But I think it’s unfair that you’re behind it instead of in front.”

You smiled, unsure how to respond without sounding rude or leading her on. She clearly meant well, and you didn’t want to embarrass her. “That’s kind of you to say.”

She leaned slightly into your space, eyes sparkling in the low lighting. “You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you more. You always seem so focused in class.”

“Focused or sleep-deprived,” you joked.

“Both can be hot,” she shot back easily, and you let out a startled laugh. Cynthia was bolder than she seemed in the classroom, probably the liquid courage coursing through her veins.

In the other room, Sophia had excused herself to the bathroom, needing a breather from the relentless teasing of her friends and actually needing the bathroom. She made her way through the hallway, heels clicking, her eyes roaming as she navigated the groups of people clustered near the stairs. On her way back, she cut through the side of the common area and paused.

There you were, leaning against the table, camera resting on your hip, soft smile on your face as you talked to Cynthia.

Her heart stalled a bit. She knew she wasn’t jealous, that much she knew. But maybe curiosity, concern, annoyance? She isn’t really sure about what it was. But it made her stop walking altogether, partly shielded behind a group of students in front of her, who were stuck in their own conversation. She watched as Cynthia laughed too loudly, as she touched your arm too comfortably, as you gave a tight smile and shifted your weight, but didn’t move away.

You looked stuck as Sophia squinted. Your body language was hesitant, but like her, you were probably too nice to tell the girl off. Still, Cynthia kept leaning in, twirling a piece of hair and batting her lashes.

Sophia didn’t know why it made her jaw tense, but her body seemed to walk forward on its own.

Cynthia was saying something else flirty—something you were clearly not paying attention to, but she didn’t get the memo. It took all your restraint not to choke on your punch at comments that surprised you.

“Hey,” Sophia said, breezy but loud enough to stop the conversation. You and Cynthia both turned. “Sorry to interrupt. You’re needed back on coverage Y/n. Joe wants a couple of story shots from the east side before people start heading out since it's getting late.”

You blinked. “Oh. Yeah, of course.”

Sophia gave a closed-lip smile. “Now, preferably.”

Cynthia took a small step back, lips pursing at Sophia’s intimidating aura. “Oh, right. Of course… School stuff.” Her voice lost some of its luster.

You nodded apologetically, lifting your camera. “Rain check,” you told her with a polite tone.

“Maybe,” she said, but the flirt had drained from her smile.

Sophia didn’t wait for either of you to say more. She turned and started walking, clearly expecting you to follow. And you did, adjusting your strap and catching up.

Once out of Cynthia’s earshot, you glanced sideways at her. “Did Joe really say that?”

“He didn’t have to.” Sophia didn’t look at you. “That’s what you're on Student Government for.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Are you my supervisor now?”

“No,” she said. “But it looked like you needed help.”

You gave her a long look. “Is that some concern I’m hearing, Pres?”

Sophia finally met your gaze, but her expression was unreadable. Her voice was cool, but softer. “I don’t like distractions.”

“I wasn’t distracted.”

“Cynthia was being obvious.”

“Not my fault, she wanted to talk.”

Sophia didn’t respond immediately; she only walked ahead until you both reached the east side of the common area. You raised your camera and began taking the shots she claimed were ‘needed.’

After a minute, Sophia spoke again, just blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “She’s not your type.”

The camera is frozen in your hands, and you turn slowly. “You think you know my type?”

“I know what kind of girls you look at.”

“Really?” Your voice dipped, teasing but quiet. “And which kind is that?”

Sophia crossed her arms, eyes flicking toward the ceiling for a moment like she regretted starting the conversation in the first place. But then she tilted her head and shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “The intense kind. Driven. Maybe a little too controlling.”

You smirked and told her, “Sounds familiar… but you definitely don’t know me at all.” The comment was meant to be serious, but it came off more playful, probably for the better.

Sophia rolled her eyes, but there was no heat to it. “Get your shots. You have fifteen minutes until you're finished for the night.”

You lifted the camera, but not before whispering in a teasing manner, “You were watching me.”

Sophia turned to leave without answering, but her ears were red. Later, when she rejoined the girls on the couch, Dani noticed immediately. “Where did you disappear to?”

“Bathroom,” Sophia replied.

“Definitely longer than a bathroom break. Did something happen?”

Sophia sat back in the corner spot. “No one important,” that just slipped out.

“Huh.” Manon sipped her drink and grinned. “Because Cynthia came back muttering ‘dammit, Sophia’ while distraught.”

Sophia didn’t reply, but her smile was smug, “good.”

“That sounded evil,” Lara pointed to the older, and Sophia rolled her eyes for like the fourth time tonight.

“Bet it’s about Y/n, again!” Megan practically cheers, and Yoonchae nods. “For sure, unnie always talks about that girl staring at her… a little too clueless that she’s crushing on her.”

“That reminds me, I have to text her about something,” Dani says while whipping out her phone. As much as Sophia wanted to probe, her brain wouldn’t let her, but luckily, the rest were friends with you, right?

Manon, who's sobering up a bit, shifts in her spot with a confused look, “About?”

“She wants to get more cardio in at the gym and wants a regimen for it. I offered to help.”

Megan’s brows furrow together, not understanding why, “Isn’t she like… already ripped?” “Says she’s lacking stamina,” Dani just shrugs, always supportive to help a friend out. “Stamina’s lacking, but she’s always running around events for photos without getting tired easily.”

Lara nods at what Manon points out, but all Sophia can think about is how much work you do within a week. It did intrigue her as to how you found the time for yourself.

One other thing about the President, she’ll make sure she finds out.

The sunlight filtering through the tinted windows of the Student Government office was soft and golden. It stretched across the meeting table. Sophia slumped over, writing furiously in her planner, because her day was pure shit. Her head was pounding, a dull ache blooming behind her temples.

Three meetings back-to-back, including a long one with the Dean, who somehow managed to turn a five-minute update into an hour-long guilt trip. Plans for community partnerships, reports about last semester’s scholarship funding discrepancies. Not all of it was about her duties, but all she could do was sit down and listen without being disrespectful.

The dean even had a field trip proposal from the Environmental Club to review by next week. Some homecoming committee budget approvals, a contract negotiation email is waiting in her inbox with “urgent” flagged twice.

And then, to add to it all, she had Communications.

Professor Mendelsohn had his usual peppy attitude during class that afternoon, announcing a new project. Something about personal brand audits, analyzing online presence across platforms, conducting peer reviews, submitting a report, and presenting findings to a mock "corporate board" made up of your classmates in exactly one week.

Just pain, without any extension because, as he would say, “Making deadlines for work without extra days is part of life.’

Sophia had clenched her jaw the entire walk back to the Student Gov room. Her famous heels had clicked furiously against the tiled flooring of the hallway. By the time she got there, she was already at capacity. Already tired of pretending to smile at people asking for favors or dropping in to “chat” about updates they could’ve easily emailed her.

She’d snapped at two underclassmen who forgot to clean up after a lunch break they had. Her voice had raised high pressure and tension in the air. A junior trying to propose a small charity event had blinked at her and awkwardly mumbled, “Maybe next week.”

Now, finally alone in the office, Sophia was breathing unevenly, her planner open, but her pen hadn’t moved once. She hated being like this, but it kept happening as it came with the position she worked hard for.

No one gives you a rule book on how to be a Student President; if someone did, Sophia would’ve been reading it nonstop by now.

She ran a hand through her hair and leaned back, the room echoing slightly with her sharp sigh.

The door then suddenly creaked open, you walking in like it was nothing—quite frankly, it was no big deal. But with the mood Sophia was in, she was about to make it one.

You causally sauntered in, looking around the room and not minding her presence one bit. Just your phone in hand and a slight wrinkle in your brow that probably meant you were annoyed.

“Sorry—” you started, already heading toward the corner cubby. “I left something.” Sophia didn’t look up. “Of course you did.”

You paused, blinking. Her giving you attitude was nothing new, but in a space where it was just the two of you, the comment felt more personal.

There was a moment of silence between you, but then, finally, your voice—deadpan. “Was that supposed to mean something?”

Sophia closed her planner with a loud thud and leaned her elbow onto the desk. “Ugh. Not you right now.”

That earned her a sharp look, your arms crossing against your chest. “Is there a problem, Laforteza?” you asked.

‘Oh. Oh, you really wanted to do this right now,’ was the first thing she thought.

Sophia straightened, her face twisted in something between disbelief and exasperation. “You wanna know what my problem is?”

You arched a brow, “That’s what I asked.”

“My problem,” she snapped, “is that I’ve been going nonstop since 7 A.M. I’ve been in meetings about scholarships and event budgets and field trip insurance, I got called into the Dean’s office because apparently no one else knows how to handle the sustainability grant forms, and then Mendelsohn gave us a comms project due in seven days where I have to dissect my entire online existence and pitch it like I’m applying for Shark Tank.”

You walk around the table, nearing her as she continues to rant, not seeing how any of her reasons had anything to do with you.

“And then,” she added, voice rising, “I come here, to the one place that’s supposed to be quiet now because everyone’s gone, and guess who walks in acting like the world owes her space?”

“I didn’t know your whole world revolved around me,” you shot back, tone calm but standing your ground.

“Oh my God,” Sophia muttered. “You are—infuriating. You’re friends with all of my friends, but you never talk to me unless it’s sarcastic or condescending or to give me that little fake smile like you’re above all this.”

“I don’t give you fake smiles.”

“You don’t give me anything,” her head snapped toward you, now standing as she glares. “You talk to everyone else like they’re human, and then you look at me like I’m nothing.”

A brow raises unconsciously as you listen to her.

“I don’t even know what I did to you,” Sophia went on, eyes shining with something sharp. “But you always have an attitude when you speak to me, like you’ve got me all figured out and you hate what you see. You hate me, and I don’t even know why.”

The room was quiet, and your eyes didn’t leave hers. “I don’t hate you.”

Sophia’s breath hitched at the short sentence, her stance faltering slightly.

“I don’t hate you,” you repeated. “But I hate the version of you everyone sees. The perfect student body president. You're like a PR girl. The nice voice, the hand on the shoulder, the polished laugh.”

Sophia’s arms slowly folded over her chest, her face blank now. “I hate how fake it feels,” you continued. “Because your friends? They’re real. They don’t portray themselves the way you do. You sound and look rehearsed in every way—no one sees through it.”

You stepped closer, lowering your voice just enough to force her to listen. “But I do.”

Sophia couldn’t breathe properly, listening to the longest conversation the two of you have had since you’ve met. “You try so hard to be liked,” you murmured. “And I think you hate that I’m not one of the people who gives it to you.”

She swallowed hard.

There was a heat in the air now, like the moment before all the chaos. Her fists clenched, eyes darting across your face like she was looking for something other than your honesty to feel better about herself.

But she couldn’t see anything else.

“I’m not fake,” she finally said, her voice low, shaky.

“I didn’t say you were,” you replied. “I said the version you show everyone is.”

She stepped forward, but you didn’t move back. “You don’t know me.”

“Then show me the version that doesn’t talk like a LinkedIn profile.”

That comment, despite being a joke, irked the girl. Sophia’s jaw tensed with her perfectly manicured fingers curled, then straightened—and then one sharply dug into your chest as she pointed.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“No,” you said, eyes flicking to her lips, “you hate that I don’t pretend with you.”

Her expression didn’t waver, her nostrils flaring with anger. If cartoon smoke were something you could see in real life, you were sure you would’ve seen it coming out of her nose and ears by now.

She hated that you were able to say the right things to get this version of her. The one that’s all riled up, strands of hair tousled, her outfit looking wrinkled from the busy day—this is the real Sophia you were talking about.

Her eyes gleam under the bright light while holding back the brimming tears, pouty lips trembling slightly.

“This is the real you, huh?” You murmured.

She let out a short, almost broken laugh—like you’d caught her off guard for the first time all day. Her fingers curled slightly into your shirt. You didn’t even flinch.

“You’re such an asshole,” she breathed.

“That doesn’t seem to stop you from thinking about me.”

There was a pause, Sophia seeming to calm down yet not responding to anything you said.

She then repeated, “You don’t know me, Y/n.” Your head tilts, head leaning back a bit, while your hand rests in the pockets of your joggers. “Then if you want me to be friends with you so bad, you're gonna have to show me, Sophia.”

It was a challenge. A challenge that rapidly took over Sophia’s brain and body.

There wasn’t a thought that took over her, but something did as she tugged on your shirt hard, pulling you in as your lips crashed onto hers.

Processing everything wasn’t going to happen, especially when you see her eyes shut, hands gripping your shirt even harder, like she wanted to rip it off. Your hands started up with your elbows up, not understanding what was going on.

You didn’t hate it, but it caught you off guard.

Once you noticed that Sophia wanted to prove herself by not letting go, your shoulders relaxed as your hands fell onto her slim waist. She feels how your hands rested on the fabric of her sheer button-up, the touch warming up her body.

You thought, ‘Hey, this isn’t so bad!’ Which quickly changes when you feel her hands releasing your shirt.

Thinking she had enough, you almost back away until Sophia presses her chest against yours, no space left, and her fingers combed through your hair—gripping with all her might.

The feeling has you groan against her lips, arms fully wrapping around her waist to balance her from falling back. You feel how her back arched, torsos touching each other as a muffled moan escapes her lips. There was no space between you, just the feeling of temperatures rising as you kissed back.

One of her hands begins caressing your back, and you turn a slight angle to raise her up, leaning her on the table. Having Sophia seated, she feels your fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Lips begin to trail down to her neck, and a trembling moan comes out of her lips.

“This is the real version you wanted to show me?” You tease, and Sophia practically hisses at the comment, “Shut up.”

“Shut up?” You questioned, lifting her up swiftly to turn her over, her upper half now pressed onto the large table. “Let’s hope we don’t argue during this, hm?”

The comment is harmless, but as your hands roam from her back onto her thighs, her body goes rigid. You lift the skimpy skirt over her ass, being given a good view of the thong she’s wearing.

“Isn’t it a good day for me?” she hears you mumble, pressing a finger on the clothed core. Sophia lets out a high-pitched whimper, the warmth of one of your fingers already having her aching down below.

The small line of fabric slowly became damp, and she heard this low chuckle from you. “Who knew Miss President could be so… slutty?”

Sophia wanted to respond, but the feeling of the fabric being pulled to the side had her shuddering as she felt the cool air brushing against her wet cunt.

You kneel down, ready to dig in, but hear a knock that has both of you pause.

… The damn door isn’t locked, and both of you were now staring at it in case the knob began to turn.

“Sophia? You in there?” The voice is too recognizable, and both of you seem to relax a bit when hearing it’s Kayla.

“Yes!” Sophia shouts softly, but sees how the doorknob begins to turn slightly, making her yell, “Don’t come in!”

The franticness in Sophia’s voice has you smirking, deciding to take matters into your own hands. You inch forward, face right in front of her pussy, and give a small lick. She bites her bottom lip, afraid any sound she makes would be heard by her own assistant.

Kayla’s voice is worried behind the door, “Is everything okay?”

There was this quick silence, because past those doors, your tongue plunged into Sophia’s soaking core. You hum against her, her heels kicking up from time to time as a hand covered her mouth. “You should answer before she walks in,” you mumble, loud enough for only Sophia to hear.

As she moves her hand, Sophia practically grits her teeth trying to answer, “I’m fine, Kayla, j-just need some alone time.” The girl stuttering makes you chuckle, taking a long stripe against your tongue out of amusement.

“Is there something I can bring you to help? I know you had a rough day.”

The concern almost makes Sophia break, her mouth agape as she feels your tongue doing laps over, and over, and over again. “Look at how caring she is towards you. I wonder how she would feel if she found her role model and crushed bent over for me.” Sophia’s hand finds the top of your head, gripping your hair again, “she doesn’t like me.”

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.” You stand behind her, adding a finger and feel Sophia tightening around it. “Must wanna trap me here, huh?”

She wants to say something, with freedom, but Kayla’s voice keeps interrupting, “Sophia?” “Uhm,” she lets out one sound, and you add another finger, you move with aching patience, fingers slipping back and pressing in. Sophia almost chokes a yelp, covering her mouth with a hand to quickly recover.

“I’m f-fine. Get some rest, Kayla!”

“You sure? Because you don’t sound too good?” She tries to respond in a friendly manner, but there's a switch in tone when you begin curling your fingers deep into her slit.

“I’m fucking fine, Kayla! Go home!”

Your brows raise, and you look at the wooden door; luckily no frosted windows to show the inside. There’s a heavy sigh. “Sure, have a good night, Sophia.” Both of you hear her footsteps fade away, and using whatever strength she has in her position, Sophia pushes you back with a hand.

You back up, and she flips over, knees apart with her pussy full on display for you. Her eyes are dark, looking a bit annoyed. “There’s no way you just did that.”

“And did,” you simply tell her, pressing your fingers back in as you thrust at a slow pace. You could feel her clench around them, greedy for more.

The eye contact you made with her only made Sophia want to kiss you again. You were so consistent while watching every reaction she gave you. The sounds of her cunt squelching made you chuckle, biting her lip as she watched you.

“Your ‘dear’ Kayla is probably so heartbroken right now.” You inch closer, picking up the pace that made Sophia whine profusely. “How her favorite person in the world is being fucked by someone deemed as her enemy,” you whisper against her lips, foreheads touching as you make her lean forward more. She feels how your breath grazes against her mouth, the warmth making her even wetter.

You, once again, curl your fingers, hitting the exact spot that has Sophia giving you a loud moan. “What if she walked in? She’d probably be crying at the sight.”

You add another finger, Sophia’s pussy clenching around all three. Her head hangs back at the sensation of feeling full, while you're successfully hitting her G-spot with every thrust and curl.

You quicken the pace just a bit more, and Sophia’s gasping for air. “Kayla would see how well your slutty cunt took my fingers.” Sophia feels you pressing a thumb on her clit, and her thighs begin to quiver.

“Fuck, Y/n, just like that.”

“She’d see you at your worst behavior, how you're just letting me use you,” You hiss while feeling how slick and messy she was becoming undone on your fingers. Pulling them out, you begin to rub her cunt with her juices coating each finger.

The circular movements at rapid motions have her thighs tensing, “I wanna cum,” she breaths out. You hum and shrug a bit, “Go for it.”

Not stopping her, Sophia’s thighs squeeze around your arm, keeping up the pace as her eyes roll back. You had no intentions of stopping, and she could only hold your forearm to slow you down.

“You must like the possibility of someone walking in, huh?” You take out your hand, flicking them downward to shake off some of her juices.

Sophia thought she had had enough; she couldn’t even respond to you as she took deep breaths. But when you took each finger, sucking each one clean, your tongue sticking out before you put one in… she wanted more.

Her hands trail on the button on her top, quickly undoing it as she sits up from her spot. You're a bit surprised at her course of action, but follow by lifting up your shirt slowly.

“You seem too tired to go on,” you admit, bunching up your shirt and throwing it to the other end of the table. She unclips her bra, staring you down with her eyes full of hunger, “I want you to use me.”

Your hands land on the table, your body leaning forward as your eyes look at her chest rising and dropping quickly, her pussy all swollen from you fucking her, and the way her petite mounds were fully out and hard.

“I-I need you to use me.” She revises her statement, and despite the stutter, it came out with full confidence. You tilt your head, amused by how different this was from her, and effortlessly take off your sports bra.

“So dirty, Laforteza,” the way her surname rolled off your tongue had her spiraling as she spread her legs wider for you. “Use me, Y/n.”

With the demand, you climb on top of her, Sophia feeling your nipples brushing against each other as your fingers go to work. You rub all five fingers against her leaking slit, moving with every intent to make her go crazy.

“This want you want?” You grunt, and Sophia shook her head against the table, “m-more.”

The invitation has you pulling her up to stand, her ass pressed on the edge of the large table as you kneel again. It gave Sophia such a pretty view of you, how the bottom half of your face had a like shine from her juices.

You lick at first, flicking her clit up, and Sophia hunches over slightly. She feels your hands pressing her thighs apart to give yourself more room. “You're so pretty like this,” you blurt against her, then sucking on her clit while one hand thrusts a finger up.

“See how wet you are for me? Such a good girl—doing so good for me,” you admit, but while talking, Sophia just feels the vibrations coursing through her body, leaving her mouth agape with aching moans.

“S-shit, too good,” she licks her lips, becoming dry from how much noise she was making. Her knees buckle slightly, her hand holding her up on the table as you. There was nothing gentle in the way you mouthed at her, tongue plunging deep as she sounded like she was about to sob.

“Y/n, I can’t-” You feel her legs closing, squeezing your head in between. She feels how you shake your head against her, standing and replacing the feeling of your mouth with plunging three fingers in instead.

She’s trying to lift her body away, but you pull her flush against your body, arm wrapping tight around her waist as your fingers never leave her sopping pussy. “Don’t run now—this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Sophia’s trembling at your words, using your body as balance, as she gasped. “Keep those legs open. I’m not done.” Each roll of her clit sent her hips jerking upward, trying to pull away, only to be dragged back in. "You said you could take it—so take it."

She’s biting her bottom lip, her upper teeth tugging hard as she tries to gain any sense of composure. You look at her, a gleam in your eyes as she holds onto your arm.

“Don’t you wanna be a good girl? “I wanna be good—please—let me be good—” She yelps, not being able to finish her sentence when your hand begins rubbing on her clit. You loop your arm around her back and under her arm, folding with her tit, rolling her nipple between your two fingers.

The begging and overstimulation have tears slowly gliding down her face, the slick sounds getting louder, wetter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sophia mumbled repeatedly against your shoulder, head leaning against you like it would help her case.

You feel her legs twitching, sobs turning into breathless whimpers as she comes again with the way your fingers keep plunging in, curling deep.

Feeling bad, you slow down as Sophia’s entire weight leans on you. The moment felt serious and exhausting for both, yet you feel Sophia’s head shaking and her chuckles against your skin.

“Is that enough about me?”

You burst out laughing at the question, the sudden comedic relief hurting your abs. “It’s definitely one version of you.”

She does her best to stand up straight, still using you as somehwat of a crutch while her legs feel like jelly. “Wanna know more?”

Sophia’s clearly looking up at you, deer-like and pleasing as her swollen lips pout like she wants you to spoil her.

“How so?”

Even with you just fucking her, she smiles and wraps her arms around your neck, “Take me out?”

The question was supposed to come out with the intention of commanding you to do it, but it comes out more uncertain than she wanted. You found it adorable, giving a small peck on her nose to make the moment a little cuter.

“Your wish is my command, President… so like now or?”

Sophia slaps your arm and the joke, wrapping her arms around your waist this time to give you a hug. “Oh, shut up.”

“You like telling me to do that when you know I won't listen.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever L/n.”

A/n: I used the little Spanish knowledge I had from hs and google translate for that Dani convo SO PLS IF IT ISNT GOOD AND DOESN'T MAKE SENSE kindly tell me pls and ty 🥹

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sillymommy6969 · 5 months ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ BREAKIN' BONES ᝰ! S.L.

trying to be subtle and secret with sophia!

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ ❪ 𝑦𝑡 𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑜. ❫ ｡ sophia laforteza x f!r 𖥔 fluff ── disclaimers: katseye 7th member au (read in dark mode!) / pt. one, two / ℭatalogue

N/NFIZ NOT BOTHERING TO HIDE THEIR RELATIONSHIP ANYMORE FOR 14 MINUTES GAY (p.s. happy n/nfiz anny!)

100.2k likes | 580k views | 13th Feb, 25

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip one: [ YT VIDEO ] Halloween w/ KATSEYE!

Sophia, you, Daniela, Lara and Yoonchae (in that order) sat along the table of decorated ornaments. Five pumpkins sat before you, carving tools laid around it. Quickly, the five of you got to work designing personalized jack-o-lanterns, but being the middle children you were, you and Daniela seemed to have declared a war on pumpkin guts.

“Oh--Dani, stop!” you squealed, dodging another handful of guts hurled your way. “They’re gonna have to clean this up!”

It didn’t stop you from scooping a new chunk of pumpkin to slap on Daniela’s hand. The Latina’s dancer reflexes kicked in, jerking her hand away, along with her pumpkin. She screamed, her shrill shriek ringing and blowing out the microphones taped to her back. Lara, who sat on Daniela’s other side, leaning back into her chair to avoid Daniela’s swinging arms.

[ oml you can’t take these two anywhere- ]

Yoonchae eyed Sophia on your end of the table, the editor for Katseye emphasized how fearful Lara and Yoonchae seemed, before editing a fake knight’s armour on Sophia.

“Okay, okay, Dani, that’s enough!” Sophia stretched an arm out, keeping the latter from slamming anymore pumpkin guts into you. You stuck your tongue out when the Latina scoffed in disbelief, gesturing towards you as Sophia gave her a stern look. The blonde narrowed her eyes, clenching her jaw as she sat back down. You shot her a taunting smirk, as Sophia helps clean whatever leftover pumpkin was on you.

“Why am I the one getting yelled at, she literally started it!” Daniela whined, pursing her lips. “That’s not fair!”

“Dani, if I hear another word from you, I’m putting you on Megan duty the next week.” Megan duty was the rotation Lara explained on live a few days ago, where each member helps take care of Megan and anything she needed because of her back. The redhead could be a real piece of work though, especially since the injury had not dimmed her big personality. “No more messing around, Avanzini, I’m warning you.”

[ mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sor-- *gunshots* ]

Sophia brushed your arm of anything else, before holding out a bag for you to dump your guts into. Daniela sulked the rest of that video, in a sour mood because she got in trouble with the leader for something you had obviously started.

“You know better than to mess with y/n when Sophia’s around, Dani, that’s on you.” Lara snorted, earning a harsh swat to the arm from the girl. “Hey--! I’m just saying, she’s untouchable.”

“Hey, you’re exaggerating,” Sophia groaned, “I was just tryna stop the two of them from fighting.”

You looped your arm under the Filipina’s, laying your head on her shoulder as you carved a face into your pumpkin. You chuckled along at the older’s attempts to defend herself, but all five of you (and eyekons too) knew better than that.

“Oh, yeah? Then why am I always stuck getting in trouble when y/n threw the first punch?” The blonde loudly protested, “Last night, y/n and I were making a late night snack at like three am, and when y/n accidentally dropped a pot and woke up the whole dorm, I got banned from the kitchen for the next week because Sophia found some food on the counter when she came downstairs.” Before Sophia could defend herself, Daniela held a finger up to her face to silence her. “y/n did not get punished for waking everybody up, but I can’t make toast on the kitchen now cuz there were crumbs on the table.”

“You made the kitchen super messy! It was horrid.”

“No it wasn’t! There were crumbs, that was it, at least I wasn’t the one who woke up Yoonchae.” If you couldn’t tell, Daniela was still quite bitter for Sophia getting you out of trouble with the dorm’s drill sergeant. “Yoonchae wouldn’t talk to me all day after, but y/n got off scotch free ‘cuz Sophia was there.”

“Dani, you’re so dramatic. It was not that deep,” she scoffed.

Daniela stood, pointing and swinging her carving knife at the cameras, “Eyekons, if you guys are watching this, find every single time y/n and I have messed around and only I get in with Sophia for it. I swear, there has to be a million out there, so please feel free to send it to me on Weverse.”

[ the war dani started with this is insane eyekonville really went to work for this (there was a 16 minute video of it on weverse) ]

“You’re just salty ‘cuz you’re a loser,” you bit back.

“n/n, I swear to God, I’m going to jab this into your ear,” the blonde threatened, holding the knife towards your head. She was quickly stopped by Sophia, who clicked her tongue and instructed for her to sit with a harsh glare. Lara began laughing hysterically at the Filipina proving Daniela right. “Man--screw this, Chip, switch seats with me right neow.”

[ poor dani… best be known y/n has her own bodyguard ]

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip two: [ VLOG ] y/n day w/ Katseye! (09:16)

“Hey, guys, it’s seven in the morning of y/n day!” She cheered and hollered under her breath, clapping her hands softly. “The girls are up and getting ready right now, but y/n’s still sleeping. We have a whole day planned for her today, so we need to stay quiet and make sure we don’t ruin the surprise.”

The members each occupied a section of the vlog, individually tasked to do different errands to make for a smooth transition into the surprise party they had planned for your birthday.

Manon and Daniela were sent to grab decorations, Megan and Yoonchae were asked to prepare the food and Sophia put it upon herself to get you the gifts alone. Lara volunteered to distract you for the morning whilst the girls got ready for the party, her planning a whole trip to the spa and then a massage place as a “birthday treat”, and you, of course, agreed.

“Okay, last month, y/n and I were out walking around this exact mall, and she saw these ugg sliders that she really wanted.” Sophia held the camera, looking past the lens at where she was going. She was strolling through a mall alone, people seen walking past and behind her. “So, I’m gonna go get them so she can keep her feet warm this winter.”

[ when she remembers small things >>>>>>>>> ]

She greets the worker standing by the door, quickly going to the section the two of you frequented the last time you were there. The shoes you wanted were still there, she picked a pair up, asking one of the staff for your size.

Once she had paid for them, not even bothering to check what the price was. She bid the employees goodbye, before smiling into the camera at a successful start.

[ where’s my sophia laforteza… it’s not fair y/n gets her ]

“They were almost out of stock, I’m so lucky… Okay, guys, we’re now moving to Sephora. I noticed n/n’s running out of her favourite perfume, it’s a gift she got from her mom so I’m going to get her another so she can refill that bottle,” Sophia announced, her voice peppy with excitement, “Bear with me here, I’m about to leave this place with so many bags.”

The vlog cuts to Sophia setting the camera down on a makeup table, she had a tiny Sephora basket in hand.

“I’m back, and I’m gonna give you guys a haul of what I got for y/n, okay?” She started rummaging through the basket of products, before pulling out a makeup palette. “So, Lara told me this new palette was good, she’s been trying out new brands and stuff so she wanted me to get this for y/n. Megan and Yoonchae already got y/n this self-care basket, so I’m getting the face masks they wanted to put in. I know Manon and Dani definitely have more of an ‘experiential’ gift planned, but--Oh! Here’s the perfume y/n loves.”

She held a beautiful box up, opening it to reveal the bottle within. It looked expensive, just based off the packaging.

[ that thing is half my rent >:0)) sophia really don’t play when it comes to spoiling her girl ]

“I called up mama l/n last night just to make sure this was the right one. I can’t wait to see y/n’s face when she gets this, she’s gonna be so happy,” Sophia gazed down at the perfume bottle in her hand, smiling sheepishly. “I can’t believe she’s turning XX, it feels like I’ve seen this beautiful, sweet woman grow up and into herself. I’m so happy to apart of it.”

[ only y/n has sophia giddy like that in the middle of sephora ]

“Anyways, I think we’re good here. I just need to pick up one more package--it’s gonna be a surprise for when y/n opens it later, even you guys aren’t allowed to see it yet.”

Later in the video, we see Daniela and Manon set things up in the dorm’s backyard. They set up an arch with your age on it, tables of food Megan and Yoonchae almost burnt down the house whilst preparing, and Sophia had set the wrapped and bagged gifts on another table. The mystery gift sat front and centre amidst the pile, a purple and (your colour) bow on it. It was almost golden hour, and the lights around the garden dimly lit the area perfectly. It looked perfect, and Sophia was beyond excited to welcome you--her birthday girl--home.

“Remind me to get Lara mad snacks later, she’s done such a good job keeping y/n busy all day, like, ‘phew’!” Manon sighed, dragging the back of her hand down her forehead.

“Yeah, she rocks at this. n/n gets a nice little spa day before coming home to all this.” Daniela cooed, “We spoil her.”

“Our girl deserves it,” Sophia replied softly, “It’s been a year.”

[ it’s actually pulsing her name in morse code im so single ]

Yoonchae hummed, “y/n has worked so hard this year.” She turned to the camera set on the girls just lounging around, “She loves Katseye and she loves Eyekons, so I’m sure she will love spending this special birthday with you all as well!”

When you finally came home, you walked into the yard per Lara’s guidance. You immediately gasped, the girls tackling you in a hug with a loud, unanimous, “Surprise!”

“Oh my--So this is ‘work’, huh?” You eyed Lara, who shrugged.

You gave each of them a hug, and when it came to Sophia, she wrapped her arms tightly around your neck, swaying you as you chuckled at her refusal to let you go. “Fia, I can’t breathe.”

She pulled away, cupping your cheeks. She gave you a beam as your hands dropped to her waist. “Come on!”

[ they are in love your honour, cade closed ]

As you soaked in the set up of everything the girls had prepared, the video dragged on with celebrations, fun activities, a little heartfelt moment of you thanking everybody before you got a little video message from your parents. The video brought you to tears, and Sophia immediately hopped out of her seat on the end of the couch to engulf you in a big hug, shielding you from the cameras as you composed yourself. She brushed your hair out of your face. “Come on, y/n, don’t cry--Let’s go open some gifts!”

You started unwrapping each gift, thanking each individual member for their respective presents. Sophia watches, a small, genuine smile paired with a soft gaze as she watched you happily unveil your gifts. The moment didn’t escape eyekons.

[ this single-handedly proved how down bad sophia was ]

It wasn’t until it came down to the mysterious gift, it wasn’t big, but just a tiny box with a bow of your colours on it. You immediately looked up at Sophia, getting an encouraging grin back as you pulled apart the paper. You popped open the box, and the camera zooms in on whatever is in hand.

A black key fob, with a small golden mustang at the bottom.

All five girls gasped, immediately crowding around you with looks of disbelief as the room fell silent for a moment. You looked up at Sophia, who just flashed you that innocent, wide smile. “Sophia, what the fuck.”

“Happy birthday, mahal.” she stated casually.

“You got me my dream car?” you scoffed, immediately throwing yourself onto the Filipina. You wrap your arms around her, practically suffocating her in a tight hug. “Sophia, holy shit, you should not have done this!”

[ get you a millionaire girlfriend who loves you huh ]

“I know you’ve been saving for it, but I figured I’d use the money I’ve saved to sponsor you instead. My parents helped a bit. They say ‘happy birthday’, by the way.” Sophia brushed some tears, now of joy, out of your eyes.

[ the in laws are in love with y/n as well they’re so fairy tale couple JUST COME OUT ALREADY ]

“We can finally match like fast and furious!” Daniela squealed.

You sniffled, unwilling to let a chuckling Sophia go. She rubbed your back, running a hand through your hair as you gave her a tight squeeze. “I can’t believe it, that’s too much!”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re happy.” Sophia stated.

“Happy? Fia, I can’t even begin to describe how grateful to you I feel right now,” you stayed stuck to Sophia, front pressed against hers as the other girls cooed. Finally, Manon clasped her hands together, “Okay, are we taking this baby out for a joyride, or are we leaving it to rust in the garage?”

You held the keys up, grabbing Sophia’s hand. “Say no more.”

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip three: [ ELLE ] Phoning it in w/ y/n of Katseye!

“Hello, I’m y/n l/n from Katseye, and today I’m going to be prank calling my friends, family and team. This is Phoning It In with ELLE.” you introduced yourself, smiling from ear-to-ear as the series intro sounded. First came the screen of you with your bandmates at your recent MAMA performance, the words, “Katseye members” appeared onscreen.

“Okay, I need to figure out who to call--If I call Manon or Dani, they probably won’t pick up, so… I think I’ll call Sophia. Sophia will answer.” you tapped on her contact name, holding the phone out, ringing for “Laffy <3”.

[ the nickname and the heart?? y/n you’re sick for this ]

The line rings for a second before, “Hey, mahal.”

[ mahal???????? sophia laforteza the woman you are ]

“Hey, Fia, I’m not distracting you from anything important right now, am I?” After a quick denial from Sophia, you continued, “Okay, so, I know I’m in the middle of media day, but I really, really, really need to ask a big favour from you.”

Sophia hummed, “Okay… whatever you need, lay it on me.”

You catch the staff swooning at Sophia’s sweet tone, biting your lip. You tried not to giggle, as to not give the prank away, but the way the women in the corner of the room were cooing at the Filipina’s words was all you could see.

“So basically, I’m in the bathroom at ELLE’s warehouse right now, and I kind of need you to bring me some pants.”

Sophia paused for a moment, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you held in laughter. Bless her heart, she must be so confused. “You need me to bring you… pants? Why, honey, did you sit on something? Did you lose them somehow?”

You couldn’t hold back the single chuckle leaving your lips, “No, I was eating this big thing of chocolate before I got on set, so I left it on my chair when I went to work. The heat was cranked up high and the chocolate was open. When I came back, I forgot I put it there and kinda sat on it… Now I just look like a little kid who couldn’t hold it in, so I really need you to bring me some fresh pants before somebody sees.”

Sophia was never one to laugh at another’s misfortune, especially not yours. You knew she would be a fun person to prank because she’d be oh so eager to help little old you.

“Okay, I’m just at lunch with Dani right now, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Which pair do you want me to bring?”

[ the way she immediately drops everything… im folding ]

You hummed, pretending to be in thought, “I don’t know.”

You could hear her getting up from sitting and packing up her things, before her keys jingled. Her phone was quickly snatched from her hands, as given away by the loud, “Hey!”, she let out. A familiar cackle sounded from the line, putting a big, amused grin on your face.

“Oh my God, you stoopid! There’s no way you’re trapped looking like you [bleep] yourself at ELLE. Take a pic, this is going on our wall of iconic moments.”

You rolled your eyes, “Absolutely not, Avanzini. Now, give the phone back to Sophia, I’m on a mission here.”

“No--! I want to see a pic, please!” she whined.

“Dani--Give me that!” A brief struggle could be heard from the other end, you buried your face in your free hand as the two bickered childishly for Sophia’s phone. You were glad this was at least the kind of entertaining ELLE was looking for, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed at the humorous unprofessionalism your twenty year old bandmates were showing. “Eat your food, I’m gonna go get y/n her pants. You better not go crazy at the ice cream shop when I’m gone.”

You snorted out loud, knowing Daniela, she was definitely planning on it. “Fia, honey, I need to tell you one more thing.”

Sophia hummed, “Anything, mahal. What is it?”

[ the pet name, my knees bucked… MY KNEES BUCKED ]

“This is a prank, I’m sitting with ELLE right now, this is Phone It In.” You hear Daniela’s faint groan of disappoint, before Sophia shushed her. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to ruin your lunch plans, but I figured you’d be most likely to pick up between the six of you.”

[ mahal? honey? they’re so domestic coded please-- ]

Daniela scoffed, “Hey! I definitely would’ve picked up.”

“It’s okay, y/n. If you were anybody else, I’d be mad at you for taking advantage of my kindness,” she teased, “But I’m just glad you didn’t actually sit on chocolate and look like you crapped your pants on a media day.”

“I know, I’m sorry. You guys enjoy lunch though, I’ll make it up to you soon.” You held the phone away from your face, looking down in anticipation of the leader’s response.

“Sounds good. I love you. Have fun pranking other people, mahal, I’ll see you at home.” Sophia made kissy noises.

“I love you too. See you guys.” You smiled, before hanging up.

[ felt like i was interrupting something while i was editing ]

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip four: [ WEVERSE LIVE ] 14/01/25 Sophia (13:05)

“Yes, I’ve seen Wicked. y/n and I went together last week, it changed my life.” Sophia commented, digging into the snacks laid out before her. She tilted her black Katseye hat up, her hood draped over the front. “y/n looked at me like i was crazy ‘cuz I was full on sobbing at the end. She still gave me hugs and bought me ice cream, so I forgive her.”

[ she looks so content talking about their date i can’t ]

“Speaking of, I’m pretty sure our girl’s on her way here… she just texted me she’s off work.” Sophia smiled, doing a little dance as she glanced back at the chat. “Yeah, looks like you guys are just as excited to see her as I am.”

user01 she’s immediately in a good mood when her wife’s otw

user02 she’s so real for giggling like this

user03 it’s y/n so i completely get it sophia

user04 MY PARENTS ARE COMING TOGETHER??

“Oh, yes, I’m pretty sure y/n and I are gonna see Gladiator 2 later tonight. She’s really into that one actor… Pedro Pascal?” Sophia mentioned, “She loves star wars and stuff, so when she heard the guy in The Mandalorian is gonna be in Gladiator, she’s making me go. Haven’t seen the first one, but guess I’ll find out what happens along the way.”

[ A WOMAN A WOMAN A WOMA-A-A-A-AN ]

As Sophia conversed and entertained the fans, you would eventually arrive at Geffen. In one of the many meeting rooms Sophia seemed to be occupying then, you knocked, hearing a soft gasp from the other side of the door.

Sophia glanced at the phone, “y/n’s here!”

She wheeled her chair out of frame, pulling the door open. Standing in your outfit with two cups of coffee, you greeted her. “Well, hello, stranger. I got you a little treat.”

The two of you come back into frame, you handed Sophia one of the cups. She held it up to her nose for a sniff.

She gasped, “Oh my God, is this a--?”

“Hazel nut latte? Absolutely. I made sure they put whipped cream and chocolate syrup on top,” you answered. You waved at the phone, “Anyway, I thought I’d come and keep you and the chat company before we leave for Gladiator.”

user05 Y/N COME HOME THE KIDS MISS YOU

user06 i’m no longer a child of divorce

user07 why is nobody talking abt y/n knowing sophia’s order?

“We were just talking about Gladiator. The eyekons are wondering what we’re doing for dinner after,” Sophia read, casually grabbing at your hips to sit you on her lap as the two of you scanned the screen. “Also they’re asking about your Pedro Pascal obsession.”

user08 omg the way sophia grabbed her waist

user09 SEDATE ME THAT WAS MUSCLE MEMORY

user10 idk who i want to be more rn

The two of you didn’t seem bothered by the comments flooding into the chat, especially those about your close proximity. Eventually, it was time for the two of you to leave for your plans, though the fans were sad to part with you.

On Weverse, Sophia posted lots of photos of you posing with Pedro Pascal on Gladiator 2 posters. Even some of the two of you standing in line for food, with your arms around her and your cheeks pressed together.

[ i can make so many of these videos #n/nfiz is definitely real ]

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ ❪ 𝖈alliope 𝖘peaks! ❫ 。 succumbing to popular demand once again, so here’s breakin’ dishes pt. 3! i do enjoy making these a lot and knowing you guys love them is fantastic. let me know what else you wanna see. happy reading! xx

@sillymommy6969 © ──────────── Feb 2025

#katseye #katseye x reader #sophia katseye #sophia laforteza x reader #katseye sophia #sophia laforteza #sophia x reader #daniela avanzini #daniela avanzini x reader #lara raj #lara raj x reader #manon bannerman #manon bannerman x reader #megan skiendiel #megan skiendiel x reader #katseye imagines #yoonchae katseye #jeong yoonchae #yoonchae

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c4llezz · 1 month ago

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NOW THAT WE'VE MET AGAIN

synopsis: sophia’s been acting strange lately, and the katseye girls are determined to find out who’s been stealing all their leader’s time.

TW: drinking

genre: fluff

pairing: idol!sophia x reader

word count: 3.3k this is part 2 of if we ever meet again. check it out first!

not proofread, so expect mistakes.

impulsively you had bought a ticket to los angeles, with the only goal of finding sophia again.

the problem was that you had no way of contacting her. i mean, you had dm’d her on instagram, but after a week of not receiving any response, you decided you were not going to humiliate yourself and deleted the message.

now your only hope was to run into her on the street like all those times before. it had to be easy, right? the universe seemed to be in your favor every time you were in the same city.

it wasn’t.

for some reason, the universe did not want to cooperate with you anymore. and for the two months you’d been living in the city, you had never encountered the idol.

living in la was expensive, and the two jobs you were working on were barely enough to sustain you. note for future self: don’t buy tickets to one of the most expensive cities in the world to look for a pretty, talented girl.

anyway, you can’t go back in time to warn your past self to save more money and apply for a better job beforehand.

so here you were, one in the morning, serving strangers drink after drink, listening to problems you were definitely not interested in, and watching people your age have the time of their lives dancing with no worries about their future hangover.

while you were making small talk with your coworker, someone walked to the counter. “hey, what can i get you?” you asked. the woman in front of you looked quite familiar, curly hair braided in a ponytail, sharp straight eyebrows, and an intense gaze that was inviting but intimidating all at once.

she was clearly on the tipsy side, her eyelids moving more slowly than normal when she blinked at you. “you are new here,” she said, not as a question but rather a statement. “i come here frequently and i haven’t seen you before.”

you shrugged “i’ve been here for a few months now, maybe you casually come on the days i don’t work”

“yeah probably.” she said “well, cute new bartender, can i get a shot of… whatever you want?”

you frowned, glancing around to see if maybe you could spot someone who might look like a friend of the girl. you noticed a few people looking her way, but none looked like a concerned friend, more like they were waiting to shoot their shot. “are you here with your friends?”

“i was,” she started, “but they had to leave. i already called someone to pick me up.”

as if on cue, her phone started ringing, and she answered the call. you obviously could not hear the other end of the line, but for the answers of the drunk girl, you figured the person who was picking her up had arrived and was waiting outside.

when she hung up, she sighed, disappointed, “i have to go. but you owe me a drink, and don't think i’m going to forget.”

you chuckled, looking at your watch, “my shift just ended. i could walk you to the door, i don’t think is safe for you to walk all the way there alone.”

she accepted your offer and waited for you to grab your things.

when you exited the club, you saw a bright red mustang parked just a couple feet away. damn. a woman was leaning on the driver's door, while another stood closer to your workplace. both were wearing caps and face masks, so you couldn’t see their faces (not that there was too much light on the street either).

the one closer to you approached quickly, “manon, come on!”

even behind the mask and hat, you could recognize those eyes anywhere.

that’s why manon had looked so familiar, she was part of the group sophia was in. and after you had done a little research, you learned a little bit about the group, and more about the girl you had met three — now four — times already.

“sophia! meet my new friend, isn't she hot? she has a skateboard too, look!”

sophia finally looked at the woman next to her friend. she planned on apologizing for any disturbance the older girl might have caused, but when she locked eyes with you, the words died on her tongue.

after a few seconds, and manon going to some nearby bushes to throw up, she finally got out of her daze. “oh lord” she sighed, looking at where the swizz girl had gone, the driver girl now rubbing circles on her back.

you cleared your throat catching the attention of the black haired girl. “i’ve been waiting for you to appear where i work magically.”

she giggled, “i tend to do that. although it is always an accident.”

when you exited the club, you saw a bright red mustang parked just a couple feet away, damn. a woman was leaning on the driver's door while another one was closer to the door of your work place, both of them were wearing caps and face mask so you couldn’t see their faces (not that there was too much light on the street either). the one closer to you approached quickly, “manon, come on!”

even behind the mask and hat, you could recognise those eyes anywhere.

“sophia! meet my new friend, isn't she hot?. she has a skateboard too, look!”

after a few seconds, and manon going to some near bushes to throw up, she finally got out of her daze. “oh lord” she sighed, looking at where the swizz girl had gone, the driver now rubbing circles on her back.

you cleared your throat, gaining the attention of the black haired girl, “i’ve been waiting for you to magically appear where i work.”

she giggled, “i tend to do that. although it is always an accident.”

“accident or not, it’s always nice to talk to you.” then you added, “don’t think i didn’t notice when you took my wallet out of my jacket pocket last time.”

“damn it. i thought i had been subtle with it!”

there was a honk, and you both looked at the car where manon was sitting with her head resting against the window, probably asleep.

“i need to go. thanks for taking care of her, by the way.”

you saw her get into the passenger seat. and when the mustang took off, you placed your skateboard on the street and pushed off behind it. sophia watched you from the side view mirror.

“why were you talking to that girl for so long?” daniela asked while driving.

the filipina answered casually, “i was just thanking her for taking care of manon.”

the dancer seemed satisfied with her answer, and if she wasn’t, she didn't say anything else, which was nice. after all, sophia could now think about you without any distractions.

now that sophia knew where you worked, she planned to visit you, casually. normally she wouldn’t go out on nights when she knew she had early rehearsals, but she couldn’t wait any longer to see you. so she made a stupid excuse and left the house before anyone could question her.

when she arrived at the club and saw the crowd outside, she seriously considered going back and getting under her covers to get a full night of peaceful sleep. she shook her head, she was already here.

after getting inside and navigating around the sweaty bodies, she reached the bar. where she knew you would be.

manon, even though she had a massive headache, told her you were a new bartender at the place she often visited on friday nights. sophia figured your shift would be on the same night they had gone to pick up the oldest of the group.

she was proven right as soon as she took a seat at the counter and saw you nodding at something a woman sitting a few chairs aways said, with a smile that looked more like a grimace. sophia watched as the blonde woman leaned her head on her hand and said something that Sophia couldn’t hear, but she did notice your eyes go wide. even with the flashing lights around her, she noticed a red tint appear on your cheeks.

another bartender came up to the filipina, probably about to ask what she wanted to order, but sophia was already out of her seat and walking towards you.

the moment the singer was in your eyesight, all your attention was on her, and a real smile crept onto your face. something sophia took great pride in.

the woman at the bar seemed to notice this, and with a sigh, gave up her seat, which sophia took without hesitation.

you offered sophia a shot “on the house,” you said.

she knew she shouldn’t accept it; she did have an early practice the next day, but she did anyway. still, after she told you of her plans for the morning, you made sure to keep her sober. there was no way you were going to be responsible for a bad rehearsal.

you spent your shift mixing drinks and pouring shots to strangers while carrying on a conversation with someone you actually wanted to know. and at the end of your shift— it was two in the morning by the way— as always, you walked her home.

she noticed your missing helmet and the skateboard under your arm. you told her you’d sold the bike before moving to la to have extra cash, and the board was the same one you’d been riding the day you first met.

on your way to the katseye house, you even tried to teach her how to ride it. it ended with you on the ground smiling stupidly, and her on top of you, laughing loudly.

that night, you also got your stolen - or borrowed, as sophia had said - wallet back.

sophia woke up that day smiling even more than usual, despite the lack of sleep. her members obviously noticed, and they were curious about where their leader had gone the night before.

their curiosity grew even more when, after practice ended, sophia did not stay another hour like she always did, but instead would be the first to leave the building. at first, no one said anything. but eventually, lara asked casually, receiving an equally casual answer. they were disappointed, to say the least.

over the next two months, sophia would do one of three things.

leave as soon as practice ended.

suddenly get up from the couch, and go out of the house for at least 3 hours.

go out at 6 pm and get back at 3 in the morning.

all the girls made an effort to find out what, or rather who, was taking all the filipina’s time. megan followed her around. lara tried to check her texts. yoonchae even asked her if she was going on a date, and she only got a laugh and a what are you talking about?

everyone knows sophia tells yoonchae everything. so if she didn’t know, something was up.

their last resort was to find out where she went at night. that task was assigned to manon.

manon’s plan was simple: take sophia out to a club so she wouldn’t go to her usual spot, and then get her drunk enough to confess.

the only problem? getting sophia to agree.

“sure, i’ll go with you”

“come on, it’s just—wait, did you say yes?” sophia nodded “wow, i thought it would be harder.”

manon suggested her go to club, which she had last gone to when daniela and sophia had picked her up, and the black girl had thrown up on the bushes outside while a hot bartender was watching.

sophia acted as if she preferred to go anywhere but there, then agreed anyway.

as soon as they entered, manon made a beeline to the bar. “oh no,” she said, turning to look at the other girl “the bartender from last time is here!” she then noticed the filipina was already looking at you and she was… waving?

you walked up to them with a bright smile, “manon! haven’t seen you in a while. sophia, good to see you again.” you greeted them, wiping the counter.

sophia casually leaned her elbows on it. “hi y/n, your best cocktail, please?” sophia asked, while manon just observed, confused.

no way in just a five minute interaction two months ago you could be this close. manon didn’t even know your name, and her friend was here asking for your best cocktail? sophia didn’t even want to come here in the first place!

you started working on sophia’s drink, and manon stood there blinking slowly.

you carefully placed a blue martini in front of sophia, then pured a clear shot for manon, who look at it with a raised eyebrow, nonetheless she accepted the drink. “last time you asked for whatever i wanted. here it is.” the girl in braids was a little surprise by how well you remembered your only interaction.

she gagged, “ugh, what is this?”

you laughed at her reaction, “colombian alcohol. didn’t you try it in medellin?”

okay this was getting weird. manon could’ve been a little out of her when she went up to the bar last time, but she was hundred percent sure she did not tell you anything about her life, and if she somehow had, the last thing she would’ve told you was their trip to medellin to film a music video.

panicking, she turned to her leader, trying to subtly tell her that maybe they should leave because the hot bartender was actually a creepy bartender. but sophia did not even glance in her direction; she was too busy looking at the stalker in front of them!

“oh, i remember!” sophia suddenly exclaimed, “you said it was the best, but it tasted horrible. you didn’t even take one yourself!”

you laughed “i was driving you to the hotel! you don’t drink and drive, do you?.” manon was only thinking one thing: what the fuck is going on?

“drink it now,” sophia dared you.

then you started arguing about how you could not drink while working to which the other girl said no one would notice. after arguing back and forth— more flirting like back and forth —, you caved and took the shot of whatever disgusting thing you had given manon, without even flinching. sophia giggled at your smug expression.

how did this happen? the black girl didn’t know, but she was sure of one thing, and the group chat needed to be aware of it too: sophia has a gf!!!!!!

the other girls’ response was instant. lots of messages were sent in just seconds, but sophia did not pick up her phone to see what all the sudden notifications were about, she kept talking with you.

even though manon wanted to know everything from the start, with detail, she decided to leave you be and went to the dance floor. she was going to get her answers later. she’d make sure of it.

sophia joined her almost an hour later with a different drink in hand, a red one, saying something about it being more crowded than usual, and you being busy making drinks. how did she know what the usual was? manon would find out!

“so… the bartender?” manon wiggled her eyebrows teasingly

“what about her?”

“you tell me ms. ‘your best cocktail, please’.”

sophia rolled her eyes “we’ve been talking.”

“‘we’ve been talking’” manon mocked her, voice higher than usual. “since when do you talk to bartenders?”

sophia shrugged, “you kind of made me talk to her when you were throwing your insides out.”

the older girl grimaced at the memory, “okay, fair point. but, you are here talking to her as if you’ve known her all your life!”

“it’s part of her job,” sophia argued.

“no, her job is to serve drinks to customers,” manon started, “not to flirt with them. and it certainly isn’t to know their life story.”

“she’s just attentive,” she said casually.

manon, however, was not buying it “yeah, attentive. and she is also what? psychic? she knew we went to medellin!”

sophia sipped her drink “i mean, we are famous, it’s on the internet. or maybe you told her last time.”

“sophia” manon’s tone turned stern. she was clearly tired of the filipina dodging her questions. but sophia was not going down easily either. manon sighed, if sophia wasn’t going to spill, she would keep asking until the other girl got tired.

“okay” she said slowly, “where did you meet her?”

“here”

“just here?”

another sip “mostly”

“sophia!”

the girl groaned “fine! i’ve run into her a couple times before. i need another drink.” sophia walked up to the bar, manon following closely.

you noticed them immediately, just like when they first came into the club. “back so soon?” you asked, a smirk on your face.

“manon’s being annoying.”

with an offended look the accused girl said “i’m being curious.” they started bickering so fast you couldn’t understand a word.

you looked between them amused. sophia had told you everything about her relationship with all the girls. how they were like her sisters, and she had a strong their bond was. they definetly looked like sisters at the moment.

suddenly manon gasped so loud that even people around turned to look at you. “wallet girl!” she screamed, pointing straight at you.

the music seemed to get low at her comment. sophia’s face shifted from playful to shocked.

“you were the girl who stole sophia’s wallet when we were in dream academy! i remember you now, i was watching through the window. she had ten dollars, did you pay her back?”

now it was your turn to look offended “i did not steal her wallet that time! how many times do i have to say it!”

manon raised one eyebrow “so you stole it another time?” you looked away, scratching your neck “sophia! you are dating a criminal! and she stole your wallet, how fucked is that?”

“manon!” she hissed “lower your voice. she is not a criminal, and she never stole anything.”

“i stole your heart” you winked, sophia turned to you with an unamused look “sorry.” you added quickly

manon now had a shit eating grin on her face “the girls are going to love this.” she said fishing out her phone and walking away to update everyone.

“well, secrets out,” sophia said sighing.

you chuckled, “at least you don’t have to keep sneaking around?”

she smiled, “i guess.” she looked around, nervously fidgeting with her hands “if you want to, you could meet them. officially.”

“family introductions already?” you said teasingly, but then smiled warmly at the girl at the other side of the counter “i would love to.”

“great. prepare for endless teasing.”

“how bad can it get?”

“really bad,” she answered honestly. “i think i’ll leave now, gotta make sure manon doesn’t run her mouth too much.”

you laughed “i’ll text you when my shift ends.”

sophia then leaned over the counter and left a kiss on your cheek “i’ll be waiting.”

with that she walked over to her friend, who had her jaw on the floor, furiously typing on her phone. with a final wave, sophia left the club, manon asking a million questions at her side.

#girl group imagines #girl group x reader #katseye #katseye sophia #sophia laforteza #katseye sophia x reader #sophia laforteza x reader #katseye x reader #manon bannerman #daniela avanzini #lara raj #megan skiendiel #jeung yoonchae

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pimpnchips · 4 days ago

Text

Faded Arch — Lara Raj

⛔️ CW: g!p reader, explicit sexual content, drug use (marijuana), oral sex, sloppy/messy intercourse, praise kink overstimulation, rough dynamics. masc!reader

Summary: As the 7th member of KATSEYE and Lara Raj’s girlfriend, you stay back to smoke while the others go live. But hunger hits, and now you’re high, sitting next to your girl on camera, struggling to act normal while a tent starts forming in your pants.

You told them you’d join the live later.

Your voice was calm, casual, and nobody questioned it just waved you off as they filed into the living room, giggling and chattering, phones already in hand. You stayed behind in the room you shared with Lara, the only person who looked back at you for a second longer than necessary.

She knew what you were doing.

You lit up by the open window, letting the familiar haze settle into your lungs as the soft hum of laughter and fan chatter echoed down the hall. It was supposed to be a quiet night. Just a few hits to unwind. Nothing serious.

But your stomach had other plans.

With the blunt half-smoked in the tray and your head pleasantly foggy, you wandered out of the room in search of snacks. You didn’t even realize they were mid-livestream until every head in the room turned toward you eyes wide, grins frozen, and Lara’s brows lifting just slightly.

“Babe why don’t you come sit down? You don’t look so good,” Manon laughed slightly, rushing you over to sit.

You scratched your head almost to say no but then turned to face your girlfriend which had her eyebrows raised at you and mouthing you to ‘come sit down’.

“No I’m fine im just hungry,” you muttered to manon but mostly your Lara who was rolling her eyes at you.

[user01]: what’s happening rn?

[user02]: i hope y/n is okay

[user03]: dude she has to be in the clouds again

You blinked slowly, your eyes dragging across the room like they were stuck in molasses. The lights felt too bright. The sound too sharp. Everyone’s voices started blending together, but Dani’s cut right through the fog.

“Mami, let’s just come sit first.”

Her tone was light, teasing, but her hands were already guiding you toward the couch like you were a baby deer on ice. You didn’t even resist. Your legs were jelly anyway.

You dropped onto the cushion beside Lara, who was sitting there all proper—arms crossed, face unreadable. Her hoodie was riding up her thighs, just enough to flash smooth skin, and she didn’t even glance at you when you sat. That almost made it worse.

“I’m good,” you said again, but it was half a mumble. Your mouth was dry.

[user04]: not mami lol

[user06]: Lara looks DONE LMAO

[user07]: not her walking like a baby giraffe

You tugged gently on your girlfriend’s hoodie, trying to get her attention.

“Baby,” you whispered.

She didn’t look at you right away. Her eyes stayed on the live, watching the comments roll in with a calm, unreadable expression.

Yoonchae, sweet and kind as ever, handed you a juice pouch the coffee table without saying a word. She even popped the straw in for you.

You blinked at it like she’d just handed you a bomb. “Thanks chip.”

“You sure you okay?” Manon asked, her face stretched in a wide grin as she waved a fan in your direction like you were overheating.

“She’s fine,” Dani chimed in, leaning into frame and smirking. “She just needs to keep her eyes open.”

“I am keeping them open,” you protested, blinking a little too slow.

Lara finally looked at you. Just a glance, but it sliced through you. Her lips pressed tight, like she was fighting the urge to either laugh or drag you back to your room and yell at you. Maybe both.

You tried not to stare, but her legs were crossed and her hand was resting in her lap so casually, like she wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen right now. And maybe it was the weed, maybe it was how she looked at you when she was mad—but your body reacted fast. Too fast.

You shifted in your seat, squeezing your thighs together. It did nothing.

You pressed your lips together hard, trying to bite back a groan as you sunk further into the couch. You could feel it pressing up against your waistband. Painfully obvious.

Absolutely no hiding it all.

And Lara?

She didn’t laugh. Didn’t say a word.

She just leaned forward like she was grabbing something from the table, but her lips brushed your ear.

“Fix your face,” she whispered. “And fix your dick.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. A soft whine slipped from your lips, just quiet enough for Lara to hear. “I’m sorry,” you muttered.

She leaned back, smooth and smug, sipping from a water bottle like she hadn’t just whispered that with a full livestream still going.

You were bricked. High. On camera. And completely at her mercy.

The comments were still rolling in, a chaotic blur of emojis, reactions, and half-spelled-out guesses.

[user13]: why y/n look like she’s buffering

[user14]: nah she definitely smokes

[user15]: she tryna act normal SO BAD

[user16]: Lara is going to get her after this live watch

You sank deeper into the couch, hoodie bunched around your hands, and forced a laugh at something Dani said. You didn’t even catch the joke. Everything sounded like it was happening underwater.

Lara hadn’t said much. She didn’t need to.

Her silence was louder than everyone else’s noise. The way she kept glancing over at you with that faint smirk on her lips like she knew exactly what was going on in your head.

And your lap.

And your pulse.

You shifted a little, subtly adjusting how you sat, arms folded tight across your stomach. Maybe no one else noticed, but Lara’s eyes flicked down for half a second before dragging back up to your face.

Then she looked away like nothing happened.

“You good, babe?” Manon asked suddenly, her tone playful but a little concerned.

“Yeah,” you muttered, not trusting your voice to do more than that.

“She’s just vibin’,” Dani grinned, tossing a pillow toward your feet.

[user17]: me time got her cooked

[user18]: not the way she’s blinking in slow motion

[user20]: Lara’s so quiet I’m scared

Lara finally spoke, but not to the live.

“Come here for a sec,” she murmured, leaning in close enough that no one else could hear. Her hand brushed your thigh lightly, too lightly, and you flinched.

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

She gave you a look. “Did I ask you that?”

You hesitated, heart pounding stupidly hard in your chest, then leaned in like she told you to. Her mouth was right by your ear, soft and careful under the sound of everyone laughing.

“You’re doing a horrible job pretending you’re not turned on,” she whispered.

Your breath caught.

“I—”

“Relax,” she said, cool and steady. “They don’t know. I do.”

Her fingers skimmed along your arm, like she was fixing your sleeve. Like nothing was happening at all.

“I’ll wrap the live early,” she murmured. “Unless you’d rather keep sitting here like this.”

You shook your head a little too fast.

“Thought so.”

She leaned back in, voice clear and sweet. “Alright, we’re heading out. Thanks for hanging with us, you’ll see us again soon.”

Megan made a dramatic goodbye wave. Dani flashed a peace sign. The others echoed her, and the phone flipped just as Lara stood up, grabbing your wrist gently as she passed.

You followed.

Not because you had to but because your knees were jelly and your situation wasn’t about to fix itself.

[…]

The bedroom door clicked shut behind you.

It was quiet. The kind of quiet that made your skin itch with anticipation. The laughter from the others was faint now, muffled behind two walls and a closed door, but it still existed just far enough away to make this feel secret. Dangerous.

You stood in the middle of the room, not quite knowing what to do with your hands. They hovered at your sides like they were waiting for instructions.

Lara didn’t say anything at first. She walked to her dresser slowly, tugging off her hoodie and tossing it onto the back of the chair. Her tank top stuck to her skin just enough to make your mouth dry.

You gripped your pants trying to adjust the discomfort that was painfully harden in your boxers.

But that move only lasted a second as you watched her slowly pull her tank top above her head revealing her bare chest.

A whine left your mouth as she stared at you with a predatory look in her eyes. “Come take the rest off baby,” she softly demanded.

Your legs moved before your brain could catch up, and you were practically sprinting to her, a laugh slipping from her mouth as she watched you.

“Breathe baby,” she whispered, her nails scratching the nape of your neck.

You didn’t even notice you were holding your breath, too focused on undoing the button of Lara’s bottoms with shaky fingers. Your eyes were glazed over with slow, aching desire—so intense it made her throb, wetter than she already was under your touch.

You looked up, nearly losing yourself in the urge to kiss and suck at her perfect breast, but instead your lips closed around her nipple as your hand gripped her waist tightly.

A soft moan left her mouth, heat rushing through her body. She tried to push you back, breath catching.

“B-baby… no—focus.”

Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to pull a gasp from your lips. Her eyes locked with yours, dark and commanding.

“I said focus,” she repeated, voice low but dripping with control that made your stomach twist. You nodded, barely able to breathe, and she smirked, guiding your face with a slow tug on your hair.

“Good girl,” she whispered, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Now take off my pants, baby. You can do that for me, can’t you? And don’t get distracted again.”

You mumbled something incoherent as you pulled her pants down along with her black lace panties.

She grabbed your face, fingers firm along your cheeks as she tilted your head back, eyes drinking in your wrecked expression.

“Look at you,” she murmured, voice dripping honey and cruelty. “Mouth open. Eyes glossy. You’re already gone, huh?”

Your breath hitched, knees weak. She smelled like warmth and sin. She hadn’t even touched your dick yet and you were aching.

“Please I need to cum, mommy.”

Her thumb pressed into your bottom lip, and you sucked it without thinking, eyes fluttering closed at the low noise that escaped her throat.

“Mmm,” she hummed, pulling her thumb away slowly. “Strip.”

You didn’t hesitate. Shoes, shirt, and boxers came off in a frenzy, leaving you completely bare. Her eyes scanned your body slowly, letting the silence stretch until your skin burned under her gaze.

When her hand finally moved, it trailed down your chest, nails grazing lightly until she cupped your fully hard cock. You gasped, hips jerking toward her touch.

She smirked. “So sensitive. Poor baby.”

You whimpered.

She pushed you backward gently, guiding you until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. You collapsed, legs falling open as she laughed softly, teasing but loving in that sharp way you craved.

“You want me that bad?” she asked, crawling over you, bare skin pressing against yours as she kissed the hollow of your neck. “Already this messy?”

You nodded, too far gone to speak, reaching for her hips to pull her closer.

She slapped your hand away.

“Nope,” she breathed into your ear. “I’m in charge tonight.”

And she was.

She took her time, dragging her mouth down your body with torturous precision. licking, sucking, teasing every inch. Each touch sent shivers down your spine. She didn’t let you grind or beg. She just looked up at you with those heavy-lidded eyes and said—

“Be still, Daddy”

You watched her cheeks hollow as she took every inch of you, her eyes dark and locked on yours, making you twitch in her mouth.

“F-fuck, baby, I need to be inside,” you growled, voice tight as your hand tangled in her hair. You yanked but not enough to hurt, but enough to make her release you with a wet pop. Her lips parted, slick and swollen, chin dripping with spit and pre-cum.

You looked down at her, cock twitching at the sight of her wrecked face. Her eyes were glazed, pupils blown wide, and that filthy little grin spread across her mouth like she knew exactly what she was doing to you.

“Look at you,” you muttered, breath heavy. “Messy fuckin’ mouth. You proud of yourself?”

She nodded, dragging the back of her hand across her chin like she didn’t even care about the mess. “I’d do it again,” she said, voice hoarse and taunting. “You taste so good.”

That snapped something in you.

You grabbed her by the jaw and dragged her to her feet. “Turn around,” you ordered, chest heaving, cock throbbing against your stomach.

She hesitated only a second too long. You slapped her ass and growled, “I said turn the fuck around.”

She obeyed with a soft gasp, spinning to face the bed as you shoved her forward. Her hands braced on the sheets, back arched perfectly for you.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, staring at the mess between her legs. “You’re dripping.”

“Been ready for you,” she whispered, breathless. “All night.”

You gripped the base of your cock and lined it up, teasing her entrance with the tip. She whined, pushing her hips back, but you pulled away just enough to make her whimper.

“You want it?” you rasped, dragging it up and down her soaked folds.

“Yes,” she choked out. “Please— Y/N just fuck me already.”

You pushed in halfway, teeth gritted at the way her walls clamped around you. She was hot, tight, so goddamn wet it made your legs tremble. You grabbed her hips and slammed all the way in, groaning loud as her body jolted under the force.

“Oh my god—” she gasped, hands clawing at the sheets.

You didn’t give her time to adjust. You pulled out and rammed back in, again and again, setting a brutal pace that had her moaning into the mattress.

“Can feel you clenching,” you hissed, leaning over her back, teeth grazing her shoulder. “You gonna come already? Or you want me to ruin you first?”

“Ruin me,” Lara gasped. “Fuck—I want it. I want it all.”

You wrapped a hand around her throat, just enough to make her gasp, and ramming into her harder. Her body shook, nails tearing at the sheets. She was close.

The way she was clenching against you told it all

“Don’t hold back, baby, ” you growled into her ear. “Come all over my cock.”

She shattered beneath you with a scream, body tensing as she pulsed around you. You didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You rode her through it, chasing your own release, fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise.

When it hit, it hit like fire.

You stayed buried in her, panting against her spine, the high fogging your head like a heavy blanket. Your body felt weightless, yet every drag of your cock inside her pulsed like a live wire. Her body was trembling beneath you, breath hitching, skin slick with sweat.

You tried to pull out—but she shoved her hips back against you, stopping you mid-motion.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she said, voice ragged but sharp.

You froze.

watching her switch your positions as she crawled on top of you, pushing herself up onto her hands, her hair a mess, her ass still arched for you. She reached back and grabbed your wrist, guiding your hand off her waist and down.

Then she moved, slamming her hips back against you with purpose, making your head drop.

“Oh—fuck—” you choked, the high making it hit ten times harder.

“Not so dominate now aren’t you?” she smirked, voice low and wicked. “Good. Just shut up and let me fuck you back.”

You were too far gone to argue. She started moving, slow at first…grinding her ass back against you in tight circles that made your knees weak. You tried to grip her hips, take back control, but she batted your hand away.

“No. Hands behind your back,” she ordered, glancing over her shoulder. “Let me use this cock how I want.”

You obeyed. Fuck. You obeyed.

She bounced back against you. Every movement forced a moan from your throat. You couldn’t do anything but take it, the weed making every slick thrust feel like heaven and hell combined. She was gripping you so tight it felt like you were gonna explode.

“You’re so deep,” she moaned, grinding in harder. “So fucking thick—feels better when I’m in control, doesn’t it?”

You couldn’t speak. Your head dropped back. Mouth open. Hands clenched behind you.

She leaned forward, bracing herself, and started riding you from the front while still bent over—slamming herself back on your cock over and over until the sound of skin slapping filled the room again. You were seeing stars. Your whole body locked up every time she dropped her hips.

“Bet you thought you were gonna ruin me, huh?” she panted, sweat dripping down her back. “Now look at you, fucked dumb.”

You whimpered. Literally whimpered. You’d never been so far gone in your life.

She reached between her legs and rubbed her clit while still bouncing on you, chasing another orgasm while using your cock like her personal toy.

“Don’t you dare come until I say,” she warned, without looking back.

You nearly cried. “Please, Lara.”

She tightened around you, on purpose. Squeezed you like a vice. Her moans got louder, more desperate, her pace wild and relentless as her body started to unravel again.

You could feel it. the pulsing, the slick gush of wetness, the way she threw her head back and gasped she looked beautiful like this.

“I’m coming—fuck—I’m coming—”

She screamed, body arching, and you felt her gush around you. Her whole body quaked as she ground herself against you, milking every last wave out.

She didn’t stop.

She stayed riding you through her orgasm, nails clawing into the mattress, before finally lifting off you with a wet, obscene sound. Your cock twitched in the air, dripping and neglected, your body shaking with the need to release.

“Not done with you yet,” she whispered, grinding her soaked pussy against your length.

“You’re gonna sit there and take it this time. I wanna see that look on your face when you lose it.”

You nodded, trembling, eyes glazed.

“Good,” she whispered, reaching down to guide you back inside her. “Now let mama ride.”

She didn’t waste a second.

Her soaked cunt swallowed you in one slow, brutal drop that knocked the breath from your lungs. You gasped, legs trembling under her, the high making it feel like you were being split open in reverse.

She didn’t ride you gently this time. She took you, hips grinding in slow, punishing circles, keeping you buried so deep you couldn’t even think.

“Look at you,” she purred, hands pressing to your chest as she rocked her hips. “All wrecked. Desperate.”

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. All you could do was breathe her name like a prayer.

She leaned in close, lips brushing your jaw. “Don’t pass out on me yet, baby. I’m not done watching you fall apart.”

Her pace quickened, thighs slapping against yours, the wet sounds between your bodies filling the room. She grabbed your jaw, forcing your dazed eyes to stay open, her lips ghosting over yours.

“You’re gonna give me every drop, you hear me?” she whispered, voice rough. “I want you shaking.”

You whimpered, nodding, your hands fisting the sheets. She was rolling her hips with deadly precision, each grind sending a jolt straight through your spine.

Your body started to buck under her, but she slapped your chest. hard.

“Stay still,” she hissed.

You obeyed, moaning brokenly.

You were twitching, so close to the edge, and your body was betraying you. You couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t slow it. Couldn’t hold back even if your life depended on it.

“You close?” she mocked, smirking against your ear.

You nodded frantically, body locking up.

“Go ahead, baby. Fucking cum for me.”

Your orgasm hit like a freight train, violent and all-consuming, tearing through you with wave after wave of pleasure so intense your vision blurred. You came so hard you felt your body go limp under her.

But she didn’t stop.

“Shit—I can’t take it anymore,”

She kept riding you through it, overstimulating you as your cock twitched helplessly inside her, as you gasped and whimpered and begged with your eyes.

“Aww, you’re sensitive now?” she teased, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Too bad. You don’t get a break yet.”

She kept moving, grinding slow and deep, ignoring your pleas until your entire body was trembling beneath her, face buried in her chest as your mind went blank.

Only when your legs stopped responding and your breath came in shattered pieces did she finally slow down.

She ran her fingers through your hair, smiling smugly, her body still flush against yours. “That’s better,” she whispered, voice soft now. “Look at my fucked-out little baby.”

Your body was done. Twitching, soaked in sweat, eyes barely able to focus as you lay back against the pillows, completely spent. She finally stilled on top of you, her palms pressed to your chest, watching you with that same smug, wicked glint in her eyes.

“You good?” she asked softly, brushing your hair back, but the smile playing on her lips said she knew exactly what she’d done to you.

You blinked once, maybe twice. Couldn’t speak. Just nodded, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

She leaned down and kissed your cheek. “You did good, babe.”

Then she climbed off, strutting across the room like her legs weren’t shaking, like she hadn’t just completely dominated you.

She grabbed one of your oversized hoodies off the chair and pulled it over her naked body, smirking at the way your eyes followed her even now, half-lidded, dazed, high as hell and completely owned.

“Stay right there,” she said, pointing at you as she headed for the bathroom. “Don’t move. I’m gonna bring you some water, clean you up… and maybe sit on your face while you recover.”

You groaned, but it was more of a whimper.

The door clicked shut behind her, and all you could do was lay there, blissed-out, covered in her, and totally fucked dumb with the stupidest, happiest smile on your face.

When Lara finally stepped out of the room, the rest of the girls stared wide-eyed from all the noise but she didn’t spare them a single glance.

Only thinking about how fucked out she is.

587 notes · View notes

difficultlife · 3 days ago

Text

Caught in 4K Falling (asleep) for You

→ daniela avanzini x 7thmember!reader

Summary: You weren’t supposed to fall asleep during lives, rehearsals, or interviews… but it happens. A lot. What you didn’t expect was to fall in love just as easily.

Author’s note: English is not my first language. I am not really happy with how this turned out but this prompt had been stuck in my head for the past couple of days.

If anyone looked at Katseye from the outside, it was easy to tell: this group was loud. Whether backstage, on live streams, or at 3 a.m. in the dorm kitchen, someone was always scream-laughing, dancing in the hallway, or throwing popcorn at someone else. And then there was you.

The third youngest, a couple months younger than Lara, but worlds apart in energy. You weren’t cold, not at all, just… quiet. Sleepy. Dreamy, maybe. You blinked slowly at the chaos like a house cat among six golden retrievers. And somehow, it worked.

You were the all-rounder no one saw coming. You danced like liquid fire, hit high notes like it cost you nothing, but by the time rehearsal ended, you’d already be curled up on the floor with someone’s hoodie over your head, snoring softly. It became a Katseye tradition:

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Sleeping again.”

One dorm morning, chaos was in full swing while you remained the calm eye of the storm. “Y/N! Wake up! There’s breakfast!” Megan shouted from the kitchen. No answer.

Daniela peeked into the bedroom, sure enough, you were curled into a ball, face smushed into your pillow. Blanket half on, hair a mess, dead to the world.

“Guys,” Daniela whispered, voice dropping as she stood in the doorway. “Shut up. She’s still sleeping.”

Sophia rolled her eyes from the couch. “How is that even possible? We’ve been playing music for an hour.”

“She could sleep through a concert,” Lara snorted.

Daniela stepped inside quietly and gently tugged your blanket back up to your shoulders. You sighed in your sleep and leaned into it. Her heart did something weird in her chest.

“You’re soft with her,” Manon teased from behind.

Daniela jumped. “I— I am not.”

Megan smirked. “You literally just tucked her in like she’s your girlfriend.”

“She’s tired!”

“She’s always tired,” Lara deadpanned.

“She’s cute when she sleeps,” Daniela muttered, almost too quiet.

“What was that?” Manon grinned.

“NOTHING.”

The day started like every other Katseye live: chaos at level 100. Sophia filmed Megan and Yoonchae doing a Tiktok dance, and Manon tried (and failed) to balance a baguette on her head. Daniela sat cross-legged on the floor, trying to hold her phone steady while answering fan comments.

And then there was you, wedged in the corner of the couch, oversized hoodie swallowing your frame, eyes half-shut. You weren’t just tired. You were done.

“Y/N, you alive?” Megan called, leaning into your space.

You raised one hand like a feeble flag. “Barely.”

The fans went wild in the chat:

“LMFAOOO Y/N looks like she’s being held hostage”

“She’s so tired omg let her SLEEP”

“Daniela protect her 😭”

Daniela glanced over her shoulder at you, her expression softening. She smiled softly and pointed to her bed.

You blinked at her, a little dazed, then pushed yourself up. Without a word, you shuffled out of frame. The others didn’t even notice, too busy yelling about whether cereal was a soup.

Then, five seconds later, you were back, dragging a pillow behind you, hood up over your eyes, a blanket clutched like a cape. You walked past the chaos, climbed into the bed in the background, and flopped down face-first, blanket over your entire body.

“Wait— did she just—” Sophia turned.

Daniela was already smiling, shaking her head. “She’s gone,” she said to the camera. “She’s literally sleeping mid-live.”

The chat exploded:

“Y/N PULLED THE RIPCORD 😭”

“I respect it. Queen behavior.”

“Daniela go tuck her in challenge?? 👀”

Daniela glanced at the camera, then back at you. You hadn’t moved. Your breathing had already evened out.

“…I’ll take care of her,” she whispered to the live, almost instinctively.

No one commented on how her voice always went softer when it came to you. But the fans noticed. And so did you, even half-asleep.

Later, in the rehearsal room, you were wide awake now, at least, by your standards. Hood up, legs crossed, sipping warm tea like you were 80 years old. But once the music started, everything changed.

On stage, you were electric. You matched Daniela step for step in a duet, and for a moment, even the staff were watching with wide eyes.

After the last beat hit, you smiled, half-lidded, sleepy still, and Daniela caught herself staring.

You tilted your head at her.

“…You okay?”

Daniela blinked. “Yeah. Just… you’re amazing. That’s all.”

You rubbed the back of your neck shyly. “You too.”

In the corner, Lara fake-swooned into Megan’s arms. Sophia made kissy noises. Manon was already plotting a new ship name.

Everyone in Katseye knew it: Y/N needed her sleep. And if she didn’t get it? They called it “Grump Mode.”

Like that one morning in Seoul.

Sophia had shaken you gently.

“Y/N, we’re late. Interview in twenty. Come on, sleepyhead.”

“Don’t call me that,” you grumbled into your pillow.

“You need to get up.”

You rolled over dramatically, blanket over your head.

“Don’t talk to me. I’m boycotting the day.”

“Oh no, she’s cranky,” Lara whispered.

“Abort mission,” Manon added, diving behind the couch.

Daniela just laughed, crouched beside you. “Want coffee?”

You peeked out. “Only if you get it.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your ears turned red.

Flirty fireworks became the group’s favorite pastime: trying to get you and Daniela alone together.

Megan "accidentally" booked only one dressing room for two.

Sophia made you and Daniela partner up for choreography "for better stage chemistry."

Lara would whisper, “She’s staring again,” whenever Daniela zoned out mid-rehearsal.

And she was staring. Often.

Especially when you danced with your cap low and hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands. When you got flustered. When your eyes watered slightly after a yawn.

When she caught you hiding a shy smile after she called you beautiful.

You, for your part, weren’t subtle either. You’d nudge her shoulder during breaks, whisper bad jokes in her ear, call her "grandma" when she nagged.

But the moment she flirted back, you short-circuited.

“You’re staring, Y/N,” she said once, smirking.

You looked away so fast you nearly tripped on your own feet.

There were live streams where you leaned against Daniela half-asleep, and she'd lower her voice just for you.

“She’s tired again,” she’d whisper to fans. “Long day. But she still came to say hi.”

And you, eyes half-lidded, would reach over and kiss her cheek without thinking.

The fans lost it every time.

Sometimes during soundcheck, when everyone else was still warming up, you’d rest your head on Daniela’s shoulder. She’d wrap an arm around you and hum quietly.

You’d sigh. She’d giggle.

She started calling you "kitten" on those days, half as a tease, half as a secret.

You’d bat her away weakly, cheeks pink. “Not in front of the others,” you’d mumble.

“But you’re purring,” she’d whisper.

One night backstage, Daniela taught you a dance. You were sleepy, groggy, yawning between steps.

“Step, sway, turn,” she said gently, guiding your hand.

You stumbled.

“Sorry, sorry—”

She caught you. “You’re okay. Just follow me.”

You did. You always would.

When the rest of the group peeked in, they saw her laughing as you spun her slowly, both of you barely aware anyone else existed.

“They’re in love,” Sophia whispered.

Manon pulled out her phone. “They’ll know when they see this on TikTok.”

You were sprawled on the couch, half-asleep, the hoodie swallowed your frame, one arm dangling lazily over the side. The quiet hum of the dorm felt like a lullaby, until Daniela appeared in the doorway, water bottle in hand.

Without opening your eyes fully, you reached up and grabbed her hand with a slow, lazy grip.

“Hey,” you murmured.

Daniela smiled, stepping closer. “Yes?”

“You’re just walking past like you don’t know I want cuddles.”

She melted instantly, the corners of her mouth tugging up. “You didn’t say anything.”

You smirked, eyes still half-closed. “Didn’t have to. My aura spoke.”

She laughed quietly and dropped down to sit beside you, her fingers brushing yours.

The room suddenly erupted with the other members screaming over some ridiculous game they’d started on the floor. You watched them, hood pulled up, arms crossed, pretending to be annoyed but secretly entertained.

Daniela leaned in close and whispered, “You good?”

You deadpanned, “I’m praying for everyone’s downfall.”

Her grin widened. “That’s hot.”

You blinked slowly, feeling the weight of only two hours’ sleep dragging on you. Someone, maybe the manager, had just suggested filming TikToks for the fans.

“No,” you said flatly.

“It’s just one,” the manager insisted.

“No.”

Daniela elbowed you playfully. “I’ll do one if you carry me like a princess.”

You sighed, dropping your head back against the couch. “Fine. But I’m not smiling.”

Later, in the van ride home, the world blurred into a fuzzy gray as you half-dozed. A poke to your cheek jolted you awake enough to mumble, “If that’s not Daniela, I will bite.”

Her soft laugh was the only answer. “Good news: it’s me.”

You cracked one eye open. “Then I’ll only growl a little.”

Her warmth settled next to you, and even in the exhaustion, it felt like home.

The room was alive with chatter, soft laughter from the group, the gentle clatter of cups, and the steady buzz of the live stream chat scrolling on the screen. All the members were gathered together, their energy warm and easy, a perfect blend of friendship and fun.

You had been fighting off sleep for a while now, but the weariness was winning. Your eyelids fluttered, and your head bobbed slightly as you tried to stay engaged with the conversation. A few viewers in the chat started to notice.

“Is Y/N falling asleep?” one typed, followed by another, “So cute, lol.”

Daniela caught the messages, her eyes flickering toward you with a knowing smile. She paused her own story and glanced your way. “Come here,” she mouthed softly, her voice barely above the hum of the stream.

Without a word, you shifted closer and gently lowered your head into her lap. Daniela’s fingers immediately found your hair, weaving through the strands and scratching softly at your scalp.

The rest of the members exchanged amused, affectionate looks but kept the vibe relaxed and calm. Daniela’s gentle touch was soothing, and you felt the last threads of tension slip away.

“You okay?” she asked quietly, still speaking just for you.

You nodded slightly, eyes closed, comforted by the warmth of her presence and the softness of her hands.

In the chat, the viewers flooded with heart emojis and kind messages, watching the quiet, tender moment unfold live, a peaceful little pause amid the laughter and excitement.

The studio was emptying out.

It was past midnight, a full day of rehearsals, interviews, and another chaotic TikTok live. The other Katseye girls had already disappeared to their rooms with face masks and leftover ramen, the usual post-performance wind-down. But you? You’d found your way to the couch in the corner of the studio, hoodie bunched around your shoulders, cap pulled low.

You were curled up like a cat, mouth slightly open, one arm dangling off the edge. Completely passed out.

Daniela found you like that.

She had returned for her water bottle but paused mid-step. Her smile softened instantly.

She crossed the room, crouched beside the couch, and gently brushed your hair back from your face.

You made a soft sound in your sleep, eyes fluttering, and mumbled something no one else would’ve understood.

Except her. Her name.

She froze. Then you blinked awake, groggy, half-aware, and your eyes found hers. “Hey,” you whispered, voice raspy, almost childlike.

“Did everyone leave?” Daniela nodded, still crouched there beside you. “Yeah. Except me.”

Your smile was slow. Lazy. “Good. You’re my favorite anyway.”

She swallowed. “Y/N…”

You sat up, stretching your arms with a groan. Your eyes glistened, watery from a yawn. Then, still sleepy, still warm and raw from the nap, you said it. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Daniela stared.

Your eyes went wide. You looked like you’d just realized what you said. “I mean—I didn’t—I’m just tired. Don’t listen to me, I’m half-asleep—”

“Say it again,” she whispered.

You paused.

Your voice came softer this time, rough around the edges. “I’m in love with you.”

Daniela leaned forward, cupping your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. “Then you should kiss me.”

And you did. Slow, sweet, tentative. Like everything inside you had been asleep until that exact second.

Her lips were warm and patient, her hands anchoring you as your body melted into her touch.

You sighed, involuntarily, and she giggled softly against your lips.

"You're so dramatic when you're tired," she whispered.

“Am not,” you mumbled, dazed, already leaning in for more.

Your cap bumped her forehead. She laughed again, tugging it off and tossing it aside before kissing you harder this time, her fingers threading through your hair, your arms pulling her closer.

You kissed like the moment had been waiting for weeks, and now it had finally caught up.

Somewhere in the hallway, Megan’s voice rang out: “I TOLD YOU THEY’D KISS IN THE STUDIO!”

Lara shrieked. Sophia screamed. The door burst open.

You and Daniela shot apart, breathless and caught red-handed. You grabbed your cap like a shield.

Manon clapped. “About time.”

Daniela was flushed and glowing.

You were dazed, pink, and still very much half-asleep. But you grinned.

And when Daniela reached for your hand, you let her.

#daniela avanzini #daniela avanzini x reader #jeong yoonchae #katseye imagines #katseye x reader #katseye daniela x reader #sophia laforteza #manon bannerman #megan skiendiel #lara raj #katseye x you #katseye x y/n #katseye daniela #katseye

792 notes · View notes

edamameiyok · 16 days ago

Text

𝘶𝘩 𝘰𝘩 (𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦) (𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘭 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

"𝙤𝙝 𝙣𝙤, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙤𝙝, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚. 𝙞 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣, 𝙝𝙤𝙬'𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙?"

𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌: 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗅𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍. 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾. 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗐 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍. 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾!𝖺𝗎. 𝗉𝗍. 𝟤 𝗍𝗈 '𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇' 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, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖼: 𝟣𝟢𝗄

: ̗̀➛ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ʟᴀʙʏʀɪɴᴛʜ - ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ

You’ve never been the best at communication.

It’s one of those things you’ve always had a hard time with. When it came to communication, it also meant jumping the hurdle known as confrontation, and that concept you avoid at all costs.

The last time you had to confront someone, you were consumed by your emotions, an intense feeling of betrayal that you just couldn’t shake away. It led to you leaving behind the one person who knew you like the back of her hand. It was a moment that made you crawl away from the world for a while, wanting it to swallow you whole for the entirety of the winter break that followed. Fortunately for you, though, there was one thing– more specifically, one person, who kept you grounded that entire time.

It was none other than your endearing yet somewhat annoying roommate, Megan Skiendiel.

On the days you wanted to stay in bed forever, she made sure to make her presence known despite being a thousand miles away. You often groaned at the incessant way your phone rang during that break, wanting to ignore it, but deep down knew it would be impossible. It was Megan, for God’s sake. If you were to ask her what the definition of boundaries was, she’d most likely feign cluelessness and blame it on her dyslexia (which, for the record, had nothing to do with anything).

But you couldn’t ignore how the impromptu phone calls and spam messages were somewhat successful in stopping you from crashing out every day. They often painted a smile on your face despite how much it hurt to do so. Every time you thought about the Latina and what she did to you, Megan was always one phone call away. The Chinese girl wove herself so intricately into your life that it was an easy decision to make when she asked if you would like to move into an apartment together.

Once winter break ended, the new semester started, and your patience was wearing thin with the school year. As you walked back into your dorm room after a month of being away, it dawned on you that you had to endure yet another semester of your own personal hell, in other words: nursing school. Before you could have dwelled on it further, however, Megan, in all her glory, burst through the door.

Her luggage was long forgotten by the doorway as she ran up to you, jumping into your arms. You caught her easily, as if you had done it a million times before. Her loud giggles in your ear, the squeals of excitement, the way she looked at you as if it had been years since your last encounter– those were all considered when you said yes to her proposal later that semester.

That’s how you now find yourself getting deja vu as you set the last of the boxes from your car down onto the floor of your new room. You look around the empty space, feeling a wave of excitement wash over your body as you think about the possibility of a new start, a new year to begin anew. For the first time since that day with Daniela, you feel optimistic about what the new semester could hold.

You walk around for a moment, taking mental notes of where things should go on the walls. The room already had a bed, a desk, and a nightstand – all ready for you to claim. As you walk closer to the bed, you notice an orange, square post-it note stuck on the wall above it. A small smile spreads across your lips in knowing, only growing wider when you see the familiar handwriting on it.

Megan let you know before you arrived that she’d be out for a few hours, needing to get last-minute necessities for the apartment you two now share. You take the sticky note off the wall and bring it closer to your eyes to read. A soft chuckle escapes your lips at its contents, placing it down onto your nightstand that sits next to your bed with a shake of your head.

“Sorry I couldn’t greet you, I got the wrong size sheets for my bed ):

Excited to live with you again!

-Meiyokie.”

These Post-it notes are a new routine for your roommate dynamic.

You’ve started to find more of these notes in the apartment, and it has only been a week so far.

With your sophomore year fastly approaching, you’ve begun to feel more nervous, checking your school schedule repeatedly to make sure everything is still going according to plan. You feel Megan watching you from the other side of the couch, her legs stretched out onto your lap while your laptop sits atop them. You and your roommate opted for a cozy night in the apartment, the living room illuminated dimly by the twinkle lights you and Megan decided to hold onto after moving out of the dorms.

There isn’t much to the apartment, and most of the decorating was done by Megan, but it felt like home. The walls hold pictures of you, Megan, and the various other friends you and the girl met last year.

You narrow your eyes at the screen through your glasses, mumbling curses under your breath as you voice your thoughts out loud.

“You keep stressing yourself out.” You hear Megan say in a matter-of-fact tone. Her words cause you to groan, throwing your head back against the couch.

“Because I am stressed. I’m always stressed.” You say while pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation.

From the corner of your eyes, you see your roommate smile softly. She reaches over to tug at the sleeve of your hoodie. “Yeah, but you have three more days until classes start. Take a night to chill out with me,” She frowns and tugs at your sleeve even harder, demanding your attention. “You promised we’d finish that chapter of ‘It Takes Two.’” You sigh at her words, glancing at her with a small smile. There’s a pounding in your chest that feels familiar, but you try to ignore it, not wanting to put yourself in more distress than you already are.

For a moment, you stare at each other, holding each other’s gaze. Her hand still holds onto your sleeve, and as much as you want to make a comment on the intense staring contest you’re both apparently engaged in, you’re too preoccupied with the confusing urge to lace your fingers with hers. It’s confusing because you’ve never had to give it a second thought before, just doing it. After all, it was normal, and it was only Megan.

And Megan stares at you in a way that makes your throat go dry. Her newly dyed pink bangs slightly curtain her brown hues, and you have to force yourself to look away, suddenly becoming overwhelmed by how cute your roommate looks underneath the low lighting. You shut your computer, leaning forward to place it on the coffee table before getting up from the couch. “Fine, set it up while I go fill up my water bottle.”

She murmurs a ‘Fuck yeah,’ under her breath, causing you to roll your eyes, an amused smile on your lips as you grab your water bottle off the floor. You pad toward the kitchen and let a yawn escape your lips. The sound of Megan’s Switch turning on fills the silence in the room as you walk to the fridge, stopping in your tracks when you find a new orange Post-it note on the door.

“Can you buy milk tomorrow?

-Meiyokie”

You look over your shoulder at your roommate, quirking an eyebrow at the girl. She pays you no attention as she continues her task of starting up the game. You find it silly when the Post-it notes have requests that could have been a text message, but then again, you always humor Megan’s antics and unexplainable actions. You look away from the girl, placing your water bottle on the counter before opening one of the drawers next to you to find a pen.

For a moment, you ponder a reply, going over your schedule for tomorrow in your head.

You take one more glance at Megan to make sure she isn’t looking, smirking to yourself as you turn around to write your message back onto the note.

“No.

-Y/n”

The next morning, you decide your first stop will be the grocery store.

After the first day of classes, you walk through the front door, and Megan immediately springs from the couch, running toward you with open arms.

You stumble back a bit, catching her in your arms. You’re usually able to set your bag down first before she greets you at the door, but Megan’s puppy-like personality shines as she holds you tightly. You let out a tired laugh, ignoring how your cheeks burn at the way she seems so excited to see you despite always being in each other’s presence 24/7. Exhaustion from classes catches up to your body, but as you hold onto your roommate, you allow yourself to melt in the embrace, her perfume filling your senses when you bury your face into the crook of her neck.

“Classes went well?” Megan asks, and you hum in response, feeling slight disappointment when she pushes you away slightly to get a better look at you. She tilts her head, and you realize she’s still waiting for your reply. A heat creeps up your neck as you clear your throat, letting go of the girl so you can finally set your stuff down.

You walk to your room, and as expected, Megan follows right behind you. You walk inside and set your stuff down by your desk. “Yeah, it went better than I thought.” You reply, plopping down in your desk chair. Megan walks over to your bed and sits down, pulling her legs up to sit criss-cross.

Your eyes focus on the way she begins to play with the ends of her hair. “You think it’ll go better than last year?” She eyes you curiously as you lean your head back comfortably against the chair, a sigh of relief escaping your lips.

“I don’t have classes with you know who this semester, so I’d like to think so.” A mental image of Daniela crosses your mind briefly, and you grimace, suddenly gripping the hem of your sweater as the events of last year come to mind. “It’s already feeling like a 10/10.”

Megan giggles at your words and flops onto her back on your bed. She spreads her arms out and looks up at the ceiling, letting out a loud sigh. “That’s good to hear. I don’t know how much more weeping I can handle from you.” You glare at your roommate and scoff.

“I was not weeping,” You claim, rolling your eyes. Megan turns her head toward you and squints, a slight smile on her lips.

“Is that what you want to believe?” She shoots back, laughing loudly when you get from the desk chair to walk over to the girl. Megan suddenly curls up into a fetal position, squealing when you begin to swat at her shoulder. “Y/n! Stop!”

You jab a finger into her side, still glaring. She squeals in response and tries to cower further away from you. “Are you gonna take back what you said?”

Megan glances up at you and sticks her tongue out, quickly hiding her face again to avoid your attacks. “Why would I? It’s true.” Her words are muffled due to her face being pressed against your mattress. You stare at her for a moment before pushing her slightly, turning around to walk out of your room in defeat. As you leave, you hear Megan shout, “Gotcha, stupid!”

She squeals again when you run back inside the room, jumping on top of her with all your weight.

Two weeks go by in the blink of an eye, and you’re starting to become somewhat suspicious of how smoothly everything was going for you.

It was almost too good to be true.

You sit on the floor of the dance practice room, your back against the wall as you scroll through your phone mindlessly, waiting for Megan to be done with practicing her routine. Light chuckles leave your lips every so often at the sound of your roommate and Lara bickering about the choreography.

They have been at this for three hours now – you're only getting to witness the peak of it since arriving in the room 30 minutes ago. You decided to join them since there was nothing else to do after finishing class for the day, and if you were being honest, going home and not seeing Megan wasn’t an ideal alternative.

And the one thing you dislike about this semester so far is the fact that Megan never seems to be home.

Last year, she was always there to greet you. She would either be sitting on her bed, playing a video game, or at her desk, attempting to study for an exam she had coming up (in actuality, though, she was just waiting for you to come home, so she could have an excuse to stop).

This semester, however, Megan is much busier in comparison. You’re proud of the girl for earning a spot on the college’s dance team, but you were starting to miss the small moments you two would share in between your packed schedule.

You’re starting to notice how quiet the space can become without Megan’s presence. It was almost annoying how alone you felt without the girl barging into your room every five seconds. Loneliness never used to bother you– the quiet was something you always preferred.

But after living with Megan for a whole year, it seems you’ve grown accustomed to at least hearing a low hum in the distance. But the little notes she would leave you all over the apartment make it a bit more bearable.

A smile etches itself onto your face as you remember the one she left you this morning. It was a simple knock-knock joke, and if you were being honest, you still don’t quite understand the punchline. But you laughed anyway, a laugh that hurt your ribs and took your breath away. You don’t admit it, but it’s a laugh reserved for Megan and only her.

Once the music starts again, you look up from your phone, placing it down onto the floor before pulling your legs up to your chest. You rest your chin on top of your knees and hug them tightly, your eyes following Megan’s sharp movements.

The Chinese girl is a completely different person when she’s dancing, and it captures your attention in every way. Her alluring expressions through the wide mirror, the sway of her hips, the sheen of sweat on her skin that glistens beneath the bright, fluorescent lighting – it all takes your breath away.

You have to tear your eyes away from your roommate, the heat in your cheeks becoming too unbearable.

Your eyes begin to find the floor much more interesting to look at, keeping them trained there until the end of the song. When you look up again, Megan is smiling excitedly at Lara, jumping up and down while squealing about how well that run-through was.

You stare at her, hugging your knees tighter in hopes that it would be enough to calm the beating in your chest. In your head, you shuffle through the different dad jokes you know, planning to leave her one in hopes it would get her to smile even more.

It doesn’t surprise you that the library becomes a second home for you a month into the semester.

You trudge into the building with no motivation left for the day. You follow behind Yunjin and Chaewon, nursing friends you made last semester. They’re in the year above you and are nothing like their cohort, who always seem to be the center of the nursing program’s latest gossip. It’s the bare minimum, but you’ve come to find out that they’re genuinely nice individuals to be around.

As you all sit down at a table, you continue to tune out their bickering, not interested in their heated discussion about what xyz did last night with abc’s ex. You begin to unpack your belongings even though you can feel your eyes drooping slightly. There was no time to rest, however, because according to your schedule, you have a lot more on your plate than you realized.

You think it’s a miracle you managed to not only survive your first year in nursing school, but also pass the entire year with good marks. If there was one good thing that came out of your fallout with Daniela, it had to be the motivation it gave you to be better.

Not to be better than her, but to show yourself that you can continue in the same program without her by your side. But now, it’s your sophomore year, and from what Yunjin and Chaewon described to you, it’s the most important.

“It’s the year where they start weeding out all the stupid people–” Chaewon told you on the walk to the library. Your eyes widened at her words, but she ignored you, continuing the sentiment, “Everyone is competing for a spot in the upper division program– only like, 200 people from the cohort get in.”

The older girl’s words stick with you. It runs marathons in your head as you unknowingly begin to space out at the table, your eyes glued to your nursing textbook that sits in front of you. Yunjin notices your silence and looks over at you. She sighs at the distant look on your face, nudging Chaewon with furrowed brows. “You scared them.” Her words snap you out of your trance, looking up at the two girls with wide eyes.

Chaewon shrugs and crosses her arms, looking between you and Yunjin. “I was being honest! If you wanna do well, then you have to understand how hard it’s gonna be!” Your shoulders slump at her bluntness, a slight frown on your lips.

“Are you serious that only 200 people get into upper division? I mean that’s– half the fucking program.”

Yunjin opens her mouth to respond, but Chaewon quickly speaks, “Only 200, and I’ve heard that more people end up dropping out during our year because of how hard–” She’s cut off by Yunjin swatting her shoulder, her eyes narrowed in warning. Chaewon rubs her shoulder and begins to bicker with the other girl again, leaving you with your thoughts.

You bite your lip, the stress of classes feeling heavier on your shoulders. Your hands find the sleeves of your hoodie, and you grip them tightly, desperate for some sort of comfort. As the two continue arguing, you decide to get to work, not wanting to waste another second of your time.

You shake your head, letting go of your sleeves before reaching over to slide your laptop closer to you. When you open it, you’re met with a blue Post-it note stuck to the screen, and the sight of it makes you forget Chaewon’s words for a moment.

A slight smile fights its way onto your lips as you read the words scrawled onto it. You can tell Megan was in a rush to write it based on how it was written– letters closer together and some words a bit illegible to read, but nonetheless, you understand every bit of it as if it were a language only you and your roommate could speak.

“Kick some nursing school ass today! No practice tonight so we can hang out :)

Let me know when you’re leaving the library, I’ll order pizza or sumn…..

-Meiyokie”

Even as much of a pain in the ass nursing school is starting to become, you still manage to find the time to play games with Megan. But as you watch your character on the screen die after a long and enduring battle, you’re starting to wish you and her could have been doing anything else.

Megan screams loudly at the screen, tossing her controller onto the other side of the couch before throwing herself dramatically into your lap. You calmly place your controller down before slapping your roommate’s arm, looking down at her with narrowed eyes. “Megan! I told you to stop screaming every time we lose.”

“Well, I told you we should’ve dropped at the floodgates!” She whines while kicking her legs like a child. You look away from the girl and over your shoulder to glance at Lara, who looks at you both in amusement from the loveseat.

The Indian girl shrugs her shoulders and giggles softly at her best friend’s poor sportsmanship. “I don’t know, Y/n… I don’t know what the fuck that means, but yeah, you guys should have dropped at the floodgates or whatever she said…”

You scoff at her words while Megan gets up from your lap suddenly. Your head snaps toward her, and you can’t help the weird feeling you get when you take in the sight of her in your hoodie, so oversized that it swallows your roommate.

She sits on her knees and points at you, proclaiming that she’s “always right.” Megan continues to babble nonsense about the match, but you continue to stare at her with quiet admiration.

The glasses on her face slightly askew, her bangs in disarray due to all the moving she had been doing the last few minutes, the way she continues to list all the ways you both went wrong in the game but a wide smile still appears on her lips, the whiskers on her face deepening with every word she says.

No other thoughts come to mind when you look at Megan, and it’s been that way for a while. You can’t pinpoint when it started, and you aren’t quite sure what the name is for that feeling you get every time she looks back at you, but you do know that it is a major inconvenience.

Your roommate suddenly grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you frantically out of your thoughts. The look you give her resembles annoyance, ignoring the fluttering in your chest when she leans in closer to your face.

“Y/n! My brother in Christ, are you even listening to me?” She exclaims with a pout on her lips. You stare at her with wide eyes, suddenly feeling at a loss for words. Your brain short-circuits when your eyes flicker to her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what the fuck is going on inside your head.

Instead of responding like a normal human being, you reach up to her face, straightening out her glasses. “They were a bit crooked… Sorry…” You murmur the last part, pulling back your arm quickly whilst avoiding her eyes, not wanting to reveal the pink on your cheeks.

Megan’s giggle rings in your ear, and you feel the couch shift slightly. When you look back, your roommate is off the couch and is suddenly running down the hall, yelling, “I have to pee so bad! I’ll be back!”

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, feeling more relaxed now that Megan was no longer in your space. The feeling she left you with still lingers, but you continue to push it down, scolding it for being so stubborn.

Once the sound of the bathroom door closing is heard, Lara immediately turns to you with a sly smile on her face. Her brow is raised in a way that makes you mentally prepare yourself for whatever she’s about to tell you. “Just so you know, when I went in the bathroom earlier…” The Indian girl starts, leaning back against the loveseat with her arms crossed. “I took my time reading all those little Post-it notes on the mirror…”

There’s something accusatory about Lara’s tone that makes you feel more embarrassed than before. You try to keep your composure by clearing your throat, your hands gripping your knees tightly. “Oh yeah… It’s like, our thing now… I guess.” The way Lara smirks tells you that you’ve failed at being nonchalant– then again, why was there a need to be? You weren’t lying; it was something you and Megan did.

And it happens to be something that you enjoy more than anything else in the world, and that fact in itself makes you more desperate to play into the act you’re trying to portray.

“Your thing, huh?” Lara’s voice is full of teasing, and it makes you want to throw yourself off the balcony.

You look away and scoff. “Don’t start with me, Lara.”

But the other girl doesn’t let up, she continues her point even though you’re trying to tune her out, “So, did you have a good day, Y/n? Looks like Megan really hoped you did…”

You groan at her words, turning back to the girl with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. “Lara! Shut up!” She only laughs, her hands raised in defense at the glare you throw in her direction. You allow her to continue laughing, a deadpan expression on your face when it starts to feel more ridiculous by the second.

When the laughter finally subsides, she shifts comfortably into the loveseat, just staring at you with a knowing look. After another minute of silence, you start to feel frustrated by her look, groaning, “What, man?!”

“Don’t, “What,” me. You know exactly what I’m thinking.” She continues to stare at you with that look, as if allowing you to hear her thoughts. But you refuse to hear her out, leaning back against the couch with your head bowed down to your lap.

You stare at your hands that continue to grip your knees as you whisper, “I don’t know what you’re thinking.” Lara hums in response. The sound of the bathroom door opening again causes your heart to beat rapidly once more, and before Megan enters the room again, you hear Lara whisper to you.

“If you like her, just say something, pussy.”

You walk out of your room the next morning, still feeling quite distressed over your conversation with Lara from the night before. Your intentions for the day are to clear your head, maybe regain some sort of clarity over the situation. But you widen your eyes when you find the girl that has been plaguing your thoughts sprawled out on the couch, glasses on her face, with her mouth slightly agape.

Her quiet snores cause a slight smile to grace your lips. You look at the front door, then back at Megan, your heart beating louder as the seconds tick by. Your legs move on their own as you tiptoe closer to your roommate, not wanting to disturb her.

You slowly pick up the laptop that’s surprisingly still lying on her stomach despite her odd position on the couch. You close it, placing it on the coffee table before leaning down to take the glasses off her face.

You’re successful in not waking Megan, and in the corner of your eye, you spot a stack of blue Post-it notes sitting on the table. You set her glasses down on top of her laptop, grabbing the first pencil you see and taking the Post-it notes to write her a message before departing from the apartment without a trace.

“You’re really pretty. That’s all.

-Y/n.”

You stick the note onto her laptop. Your eyes fall on your roommate again, and you swear your heart could beat out of your chest any minute now.

You’re falling in love with Megan Skiendiel. That much is obvious.

Days are harder than others most of the time.

As another month passes, there hasn’t been a day when you aren’t consuming an energy drink or two to keep yourself awake enough to continue studying. The stress of competing for a spot in upper division is starting to become more present within your cohort, and that feeling you had at the beginning of your freshman year begins to resurface. The ‘every man for themself’ attitude comes back tenfold, and the pressure feels more suffocating every time you walk into the nursing building. Even Yunjin and Chaewon have commented on it, telling you how glad they were to be done with those days. The homework is never-ending, and the exams happen back-to-back with no chance for you to take a single breath.

And on top of that, you also have your feelings for Megan to deal with, and that’s a situation in its own league.

When you finally arrive back at your apartment after another long day, you open the door and step inside with a huff. The frustration you’ve felt since your first class (which was at 8:30 AM) is finally ready to be released as you slam the door shut behind you. You thank God Megan isn’t home to witness the inevitable crash out because, if you were being honest, you’re at your limit. You rip your bookbag off your back, intending to throw it across the room, but from the corner of your eye, you spot an orange blob staring at you.

Why is it staring?

Your head slowly turns toward the object, widening when you realize what you’ve come face-to-face with.

It meows at you, tiny and orange. It’s a kitten, in your apartment, on your couch, staring at you as if you were the intruder. You slowly place your bookbag down onto the floor before tiptoeing toward the small creature.

It meows again, even louder, more confidently. As soon as you kneel in front of the couch, the kitten walks up to you, its big green eyes staring at you in curiosity. You look around the room frantically, unsure of what to do in this situation. On the coffee table, a white Post-it note sits, and you quickly grab it, knowing Megan is behind the new friend.

“Thought it would be better to ask for forgiveness.

Anyway, his name is Fanta.

At the store rn getting him things. I’ll be back!

-Meiyokie”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, placing the post-it note back onto the table. A sigh escapes your lips as you look at the kitten again, his eyes still on you. He tilts his head and meows.

“Fanta is a stupid name.” You deadpan at him. He meows again and walks closer to you, bumping his head into your chest. His purrs can be heard, and you can’t help but soften at the sound, reaching your hand up to pet his tiny, orange head.

Fanta leans into the touch, his eyes closed as he continues purring even louder. You bite your lip to suppress your smile as you reach out to scoop the kitten into your arms. He rests against your chest cozily as you stand to your feet, a soft look in your eyes as you continue to stare at your new roommate.

“I hope you got enough cuddles with your mom before she left because when she comes back,” You lean your head closer to Fanta, cooing, “I’m gonna kill her.” Fanta meows, closing his eyes again to purr in your arms.

“Yeah…” You coo again, walking toward your room. You step over your bookbag, deciding that a little break to get to know your new friend wouldn’t hurt your next exam grade. “Wanna see my room? I have a window and it gets so so cozy in the morning, yes it does!”

Once another week of hell passes, Megan decides (against your will) that you need to take a break– a real break.

“It won’t kill you, Y/n,” your roommate said as she applied her makeup in front of your full-length mirror. “Just another party. It’ll be fun.”

But as you stand with her and Lara, the loud music booming from the speakers and the other college students drunkenly bumping into you as they try to make their way through the house, you can’t help but feel a bit aggravated.

Lara and Megan continue talking to each other, gossiping about another student from their major. You try to listen in on their conversation, but the music makes it nearly impossible, so you decide to take another sip from your cup, hoping the alcohol will help your sour mood.

Suddenly, you feel someone grab your arm. Your eyes widen, tearing your arm away from their grasp out of instinct. When you turn around, your eyes soften at the culprit, who happens to be Yunjin.

She smiles at you sheepishly and tries to yell over the music, “Sorry! I got excited when I saw you!” As if on cue, Chaewon appears at her side as well, her cheeks flushed, and the usual intensity in her eyes is more gentle, a twinkle in them that you’ve never seen outside of the nursing building.

When you notice this, you take the opportunity to point at her, an amused smile on your lips. “She’s drunk.”

However, it’s still Chaewon, and she’s quick to glare at you. “No, I’m not! I’m having fun.”

“Drunk.” You quip back, your smile growing wider when the shorter girl begins to pout. Amidst the teasing, a hand slides into yours, lacing your fingers together with practiced familiarity. You know it’s Megan, and you squeeze her hand, silently letting her know that you haven’t forgotten her presence.

A chuckle escapes your lips as you gesture to your roommate, pulling her close to your side. “Yunjin, Chaewon, this is my roommate, Megan.”

Megan waves at your friends, greeting them with a smile. You then introduce Lara and allow them to become acquainted. For a moment, you glance at Megan and eye the way she plays with a strand of her hair.

She seems to be staring off into space, and you can’t help but frown, picking up on her habit. “Are you okay?” You ask, and Megan’s eyes crinkle in confusion.

She laughs suddenly, her eyes avoiding yours as she responds, “Yeah. I’m fine, why?”

You furrow your brows at her reaction, reaching out to grab her hand that was preoccupied with her hair. A chuckle escapes your lips as you whisper, “Whenever you get nervous… You do that thing…” Your thought trails off as you look at Megan.

Her eyes are wide, and her cheeks are red due to the alcohol she’s been consuming. The last time you counted, Megan was on her third drink, and you were going to make sure the next one would be her last.

She continues to stare up at you, her brown eyes looking into yours. You watch as she pulls her bottom lip back by her teeth, and the action puts you in a slight trance with a shiver running up your spine. “Like… you mess with your hair…” You tell her in a low and breathless tone.

Megan tilts her head at you, and there’s something unreadable in her eyes that you can’t decipher. Your eyes flicker to her parted lips, and you wonder what would happen if you closed the gap between you.

The tension in the room is palpable, and maybe the alcohol in your system will make you brave for once. But before the thoughts could consume you further, Megan is suddenly pulled away by Lara, unintentionally breaking the moment between you and your roommate.

You watch as Lara inserts Megan into the conversation with Yunjin and Chaewon, and it allows you to release the breath you’ve been holding. You bring the cup up to your lips to take another sip from your drink, your eyes scanning the room to rid yourself of the thoughts you were having previously.

Suddenly, a familiar laugh causes your ears to perk up instinctively, your head snapping toward the owner of the sound. Your heart drops to your stomach when you see her.

It’s been months since you last saw her. The last time was in April, right before your freshman year ended, and it was in passing. You were walking to a meeting you had with one of your professors, and she was walking the other way, probably having finished class.

You both glanced at each other, a twinkle of familiarity between you. But quickly, you’re both averting your eyes, staring straight ahead as you walk past each other like strangers. It was as if the semester that had just passed never happened. The friendship you shared with the Latina throughout high school doesn’t seem to fit in this timeline; it doesn’t make sense for it to.

At a moment’s weakness, you found yourself stopping suddenly. Slowly, you turned around and hoped that maybe, she’d be looking back at you.

She already left the building, however. No trace of her to be seen, and you turned back around, your hands gripping the straps of your bookbag as you continued toward your destination.

And now, here she was, laughing loudly with Manon and Sophia. You notice how her hair is back to its natural color, and for some reason, the small detail softens you. It reminds you of the Daniela you knew in high school. The one who was always there, the girl who stuck by your side no matter how hard things became.

Daniela in high school would have never hurt you the way Daniela did last year. She would have ripped that girl apart and scolded her for being so stupid.

But the Daniela you knew in high school no longer exists. Instead, in her place is a person you can’t recognize, and you have no desire to know her.

You step outside of the party, needing a breather after seeing the Latina again. Something about it felt almost too real— it felt like everything you’ve ever tried to forget forced itself back into the forefront of your mind.

Memories of your old best friend claw their way up your spine, it whispers in your ear coldly, reminding you that there was, in fact, a time in your life when Daniela Avanzini used to sleep next to you in your childhood bedroom. You shake your head and tell yourself that it doesn’t matter, that none of it ever mattered that much to begin with.

It didn’t matter when she left for college and never spoke to you again.

It didn’t matter when she left you behind and never even sent you a ‘happy birthday’ text.

It didn’t matter when you saw her again that day in the quad.

It didn’t matter when she tried to enter your life again and you let her back in, despite your hesitation.

And it definitely didn’t matter when she proved you right, leaving you again with a broken heart and wondering what you could have done differently.

Your eyes dart around the backyard of the house in an attempt to find something to distract you from the way your throat begins to tighten. There’s a sick feeling in your stomach, and you want to blame it on the alcohol, you want to blame it on everything else but what’s truly bothering you.

But then your eyes catch a glimpse of someone sitting at a swing set. And then you realize.

It’s the same swing set from last year, and now Daniela sits in it, just like you did that night.

Seeing her there causes you to freeze; the sight of her there, where you sat a year ago, knocks the wind out of you, and all of the emotions you’ve tried so hard to avoid rush at you like a monsoon. When she looks up and spots you, you realize you can no longer run away.

There’s no other choice but to admit the obvious: it did matter, it always mattered to you.

Tears spring to your eyes as you stare at the Latina, and a bit of you panics when she begins to stand up, as if scared she’d walk away. Before you register what’s happening, you hold your hand up and step forward. “No! Wait!” You plead, and she stops in her tracks, her eyes wide at your words.

You take a deep breath as you take her in. You’re supposed to be angry; you’re supposed to be taking this opportunity to yell at her and scream for what she did. The fact that she led you into false security just to use it against you should sicken you.

But as you take closer steps toward your old friend, you begin to notice how she fidgets with the ring on her finger. The nervous habit reminds you that, no matter how much a person changes, bits and pieces of them will continue to live on.

Somewhere deep inside Daniela lives the girl who sat next to you in high school chemistry.

When you’re only a few feet away from her, words don’t come to mind. Everything you wanted to tell her feels so far away, and you almost convince yourself to turn around and forget this ever happened. But the grip you didn’t realize you had on the hem of your sweater reminds you that there is something you want to say.

You stare at Daniela with a bittersweet smile. It’s gentle and a bit forgiving, but it’s bitter nonetheless. “You were my best friend, Dani.” Your voice breaks when you say her name, as if it would be the last time you ever will. She lets out a shaky breath at your words and tilts her head, her eyes glossy with tears.

A sense of déjà vu begins to overwhelm you. Suddenly, you’re sitting on the steps of her back patio again. It’s the night of her graduation party, and you promised that things would never change.

“You were my best friend too, Y/n,” she whispers. For a moment, you both hold each other’s gaze, the creaking of the swing set quiet behind Daniela. To your surprise, she throws her arms around your neck and pulls you into a tight embrace.

You stand in shock as she rests her head against your shoulder, and your hands almost reach up to push her away, but instead, your arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close.

For a single night, you pretend this is normal. You pretend you kept your promise.

“I’m sorry I’m not brave like you,” she whispers into your shoulder. You don’t respond, only holding her tighter. Time stays still with Daniela; it allows you both to linger in each other’s presence.

After a while, you pull away from the Latina slowly and you take a step back, a small smile on your lips. “I should go,” You tell her, your voice wavering slightly. She nods and looks down at her feet, shaking her head as if she had been in a trance.

Daniela takes a deep breath before looking back up at you with a genuine smile. “Oh yeah, don’t wanna keep Megan waiting, right?”

“Wait, what?” You furrow your brows at the Latina, confused by the implication in her words. When she doesn’t respond, you continue to press, “Megan… What?” Daniela giggles at your expression, and it causes you to feel even more at a loss.

She crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head, clicking her tongue before looking away from you. However, you can still see the sly smile on her face. “You guys are cute together.”

Your eyes widen, and your cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. You rub the back of your neck as you murmur, “We aren’t… Together…”

Daniela rolls her eyes and looks at you with a raised brow. “You can’t fool me, Y/n. I see the way you look at her…” Her amused smile falters slightly, but she regains composure, clearing her throat.

She forces a smile as she continues, “It’s the way you used to look at me.”

The last few days have been weirdly quiet in the apartment, and it has honestly been driving you crazy.

You’ve noticed a change in Megan. The notes around the apartment remain, but since the party, it has been the only form of communication you’ve had with the Chinese girl. Every morning since then, she has been the first one to leave the apartment.

There are more nights than usual when she stays on campus to practice her routines. You try to reason that the girl must have another competition coming up that requires her undivided attention.

But after another ‘good morning,’ Post-it goes ignored, you conclude that she must be avoiding you.

The thought of Megan being upset with you takes up space in your mind, so much so that you find yourself leaving in the middle of a lecture just to corner her at home. It’s a plan you devised after you found another Post-it note in your textbook, and even though it was an old one, it was still enough to drive you crazy.

You sit on the couch with Fanta in your lap, waiting patiently for Megan to arrive home from class. When Megan finally walks through the door, you can tell that your presence shocks her based on the way she freezes at the doorway.

Your heart drops when she doesn’t greet you like usual, simply walking toward the kitchen without saying a word to you. You continue to pet Fanta as you speak up, “What’s going on with you?”

Your roommate opens the fridge to grab the Brita that’s inside. She refills her water bottle as she responds, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been avoiding me, Meiyokie.” You look down at Fanta, who purrs gently when you scratch a certain part of his neck. When you look up, you see Megan placing the Brita back inside the fridge.

“I’m not avoiding you, Y/n.” Her tone is sharp, as if she’s already tired of the conversation. You can’t help but feel annoyed, leaning down close to Fanta.

“Fanny, I think there’s a stick up your mommy’s ass…” You snicker at the kitten. He looks up at you, then continues to bathe himself, blissfully unaware of the tension that radiates between you and Megan. The Chinese girl glares at you and huffs, setting her water bottle down loudly onto the counter.

The sound causes Fanta to jump from your lap, suddenly scurrying into Megan’s room for safety. You shake your head and stare at Megan in disappointment. “Your son doesn’t like it when we fight.”

“We aren’t!-“ Megan exclaims, but quickly lowers her voice, running a frustrated hand through her hair. “We are not fighting. And I’m not avoiding you.”

You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms over your chest. “Megan, we haven’t had a real conversation in days.” Your roommate sighs and rubs her face with her hands.

There’s an exhausted look in her eyes, and from the way she stands so tensely, you assume that it’s because the dance team has been working extra hard the last few weeks. But, you wouldn’t know, this is the first conversation you’ve had with Megan in a while, after all.

She looks down at the counter and shrugs. “It doesn't even matter, okay?” You frown, noticing the way she avoids looking at you.

“It does matter because you’re upset, and I just wanna know why.” You reach over to the coffee table, grabbing the pad of sticky notes that sit there. You then stand up from the couch and walk over to your roommate, setting the pad down in front of her. She looks at it, then at you with a curious look in her eyes.

“What?” she asks softly. You gesture to the sticky notes, grabbing a random pen you see from the corner of your eyes, and place it in front of the brunette with a gentle smile.

“This seems to be the easiest way for you to communicate with me, so do it.” Megan scoffs, pushing the pad away from her.

She looks away from you again with a roll of her eyes. “Now you’re making fun of me,” she murmurs, and you shake your head again. You slowly slide the sticky-note pad closer to you and grab the pen, intent on starting the conversation. A million thoughts run through your head, and you aren’t the best with your words, but for Megan, you try.

“Not talking to you sucks and it honestly makes me sad when we don’t ):

-Y/n”

You slide it back to Megan, poking her arm with the pen. She glances at you, then at the note you wrote. She frowns and takes the pen from your hand to write down her response.

“Really?

-Meiyokie”

“Really.

-Y/n”

“Are you and Dani talking again?”

-Meiyokie”

You pause before writing down your response. Your eyes scan her words over and over again, quirking an eyebrow at your roommate. She doesn’t acknowledge you, though, simply sliding the Post-it note pad closer to you, urging you to respond.

“No… Why would you think that?

-Y/n”

“I saw you guys hugging outside at the party.

I thought you probs forgave her.

-Meiyokie”

“Is that what’s been bothering you?

-Y/n”

She stares at your question as you await her answer. Suddenly, she looks up at you and nods, frowning slightly. “I told you it was stupid.”

You shake your head and reach out to Megan, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. You squeeze gently as you reply, “That’s not stupid.”

“It is. Because, I don’t even know why it made me so upset…” She sighs, placing her head in her hands. “Like, it literally made me so mad.” You remove your hand from her shoulder to begin rubbing her back, frowning at the distress evident on her face.

You lean close to Megan and whisper, “You should have told me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She looks up at you and smiles weakly. She leans against your shoulder, and you instinctively wrap an arm around your roommate, pulling her close to your side. Megan wraps her arms around your torso and sighs again, closing her eyes. “I’m your best friend, right?”

Her words reveal the depth of her feelings toward seeing you and Daniela together. Your chest flutters at the thought of Megan being afraid to lose you, even if it was only your friendship.

You hold Megan even tighter, content with the fact that you two were okay again. “You’re my best friend, Meiyokie.”

Thanksgiving Break finally arrives, but being away from Megan and Fanta bothers you a lot more than you’d like to admit.

Megan sits with Fanta on her lap at your desk, and they watch you continue packing for your trip home. Your roommate sighs dramatically as you walk over to your closet for the nth time. “You know Fanta knows you’re leaving, right? Cats can like, sense that shit.”

“Don’t tell me that,” You groan as you rummage through your clothes for another outfit to pack. When you glance at them, your heart breaks slightly at the sight. Megan pouts as she holds Fanta in her arms like a baby, cradling him as he paws at her face.

You bite your lip to suppress the laugh that wants to escape your lips as you watch Fanta struggle in Megan’s arms. She continues to ignore him, cooing, “Look at him! He doesn’t want you to go…” Fanta suddenly meows in response, jumping out of Megan’s arms to run out of the room. You watch as he disappears, and you look back at Megan with a grin.

“He’s heartbroken for sure…” You turn your back on your roommate as you reach for the clothes you’ve been looking for, grabbing them so you can finally finish packing. Megan stands up from the desk chair and walks over to your luggage, still pouting at you as if you were leaving out of spite.

You fold your clothes and pack them into your bag, shaking your head when your roommate begins to jab a finger into your side. “Meiyokie, you’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be.”

“Good,” She quips, poking your side again with a huff. “You can stay longer.”

You roll your eyes as you place the last of your belongings inside your bag, close it, and then zip it up. Megan stares at you sadly, and that look alone almost makes you consider staying one more day. But you already told your mother you’d be home tonight, and she is very excited to hear about any new developments between you and Megan. Your cheeks burn at the thought, and you shake your head, grabbing your bag from your bed.

“Wanna walk with me to my car?” She sighs but still smiles at you, grabbing your bag from your hands.

You give her a questioning look as you reach for it back, but she pushes you away playfully, wagging her finger in front of your face. “Nope! I’m helping!” She charges ahead of you and holds your bag with both her hands, obviously struggling with it. But you allow her to walk out the door with it, watching her with amusement as she tries to get it down the stairs. By the time you reach your car, she’s dragging it along the road, but you couldn’t care less; you love watching Megan smile.

Finally, she throws your bag into the backseat, shutting the car door with a loud huff. Megan looks up at you with her hands on her hips, a bit out of breath. Her pink bangs are sticking out everywhere, and she has a silly grin plastered on her face.

As you stare at your roommate, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by your feelings toward her. You think about finally telling her, finally pressing your lips against hers. But you know it’s not the right time, and you aren’t sure when that time is, but right now you know it wouldn’t go well.

You wrap your arms around Megan, hugging her close to your front. She immediately hugs you back and buries her head into your neck. Her lips ghost over your skin as she whispers, “Have a good break, Y/n.”

Your eyes close as you run a hand through her hair. “You too, Meiyokie.”

You’re not even that far away from the apartment when you realize you should get gas before making the trip back home.

It takes everything in you to make the decision, weighing your options in your head before finally pushing yourself to make the smart choice. You reach into your pocket for your wallet, groaning when you realize you must have packed it away into your luggage.

You look behind you at the backseat, and your eyes spot an orange Post-it note sitting on top of your bag. A chuckle leaves your lips as you reach out to grab it, shaking your head at your roommate. You wonder if this was why she was so insistent on taking your bag.

The smile on your lips falters as your eyes scan her words. You reread them over and over again, making sure you aren’t just seeing things.

“Oh by the way I’m in love with you.

And I think you love me too.

Also I stole your hoodie before you left.

I’ll see you after break :)

-Love, Meiyokie

You’re out of breath by the time you finally get home. You’re sweating profusely, and you look a bit like a mess when you bust through the door. Megan runs out of her room with wide eyes, and you notice how she has already changed into your hoodie. “Y/n? Did you forget something–?”

“You’re in love with me.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. She tilts her head at you, her eyes softening in realization that you must have read her note a lot earlier than she expected.

“Is that a question or a statement?” She asks, and for a moment, you stand there, your eyes wide and your mouth slightly agape. No response escapes your lips, and you watch as Megan shrugs nonchalantly, as if she didn’t just drop a bomb on you. She steps forward and bites her lip, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I am,” She confesses, a bit breathless.

Your brows furrow as your heart begins to do flips in your chest. When you realized you were in love with your roommate, the possibility of her loving you back never occurred to you.

You were more than content with having Megan by your side, just as your friend, despite how you felt toward her. Sure, it would have torn you apart, but you’ve seen something like this before, and the thought of losing Megan in the process killed you.

But Megan looks at you with stars in her eyes. She lights up every time you walk through the door, and you feel so stupid for not seeing it before.

While you’re stuck in your thoughts, you don’t notice how she bows her head, suddenly not looking at you anymore. When you look at her, your eyes widen, reaching out to place your hands on her shoulders. She looks up at you, her lips quivering, and her eyes glistening with tears.

You shake your head, quickly pulling her into a tight hug. “Fuck wait— Megan. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Your voice becomes shakier as you continue. “I just— I didn’t think you’d feel the same way. That’s impossible...” She pulls away slightly to look up at you, sniffling. Suddenly, she slaps your arm with a pout on her lips. The action causes you to wince, and you look at her incredulously. “What the hell?! What was that for?!”

“For being so oblivious and dumb!” She says half teasingly but slightly more annoyed. Megan pulls you back into a hug, her arms looping around your neck and her face buried into your shoulder. She murmurs, “I waited so long for you to say something.” You chuckle, wrapping your arms securely around her waist.

You whisper, “Sorry. I'm just... Surprised.” You hold Megan closer and you relish in her warmth— the warmth of being loved by Megan Skiendiel.

“Is that a bad thing?” She suddenly asks. You unwrap your arms from her waist, settling your hands on her hips so you can look at her.

You shake your head, a soft smile on your lips. “No. I’m glad it’s you.”

She smiles at you, her whiskers on display as she looks into your eyes. The sincerity in them makes your knees go weak, and now that you’re in this moment with her, you have no idea what to do next. You’ve imagined it a few times before, but they don’t compare to what it actually feels like, how it actually feels to be loved back.

Before you can process what’s happening, Megan is on her tippy toes and kisses you as if her life depended on it.

You respond immediately, your hands pulling her closer. Your lips move against hers in a slow rhythm that makes your head spin. You messily thread your fingers into her hair as she places her hands on your cheeks, sliding them down to your shoulders. You’re both lost in the kiss– lost in each other, and you can’t imagine being anywhere else but here.

A loud meow interrupts the moment, and it causes you both to pull away slightly. You’re both giggling at each other with flushed cheeks as another meow is heard. You throw your head back dramatically, groaning, “Fanta! What the hell!” The kitten only meows again, and you can feel him rub against your leg. You look down at him, and he stares up at you expectantly, as if demanding your attention.

Megan giggles and hugs you tightly, resting her head against your chest. “I told you! He was gonna miss you…” You roll your eyes at her words, but your smile remains. Fanta begins to circle you and Megan and meows at you both, waiting for someone to give him what he wants.

You sigh, kneeling to scoop the kitten into your arms. He begins to purr in your arms, and Megan looks at you with a twinkle in her eyes. “I think you should stay one more day.”

Fanta meows again, and you smile, your heart feeling fuller than it ever has.

“I can’t think of anything else better to do.”

an: the long awaited pt. 2 to 'in another dimension' ! i hope u all enjoyed some fluff from me finally :) pls lmk what you think!!!

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#katseye x reader #katseye imagines #megan skiendiel #daniela avanzini #manon bannerman #lara raj #sophia laforteza #jeong yoonchae #katseye #megan skiendiel x reader

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manonsmartini · 10 days ago

Text

Tender Ruin — Lara Raj (18+)

✒️ explicit sexual content · g!p lara · dubcon · oral/face-fucking · worship · praise/degradation · emotional sex · hate sex · reader has a bf (ex) · resentment · miscommunication · emotional cheating · hurt/comfort · guilt · angst · bullying · sex as emotional release · implied exhibitionism · college au

Summary: Your boyfriend mocked her. You didn’t join in—but you didn’t stop him, either. You let it happen. And now she wants nothing to do with either of you. But one heated confrontation cracks everything open. The anger turns carnal. The silence, intimate. But guilt doesn’t vanish just because you finally touched her like you meant it. (10.6k words)

Lara’s alone, earbuds in, notebook half-open on her lap, nursing a strawberry juice like it’s the only sweet thing left in her day. Her foot taps a rhythm only she knows, and her shoulders are curled in like she’s used to taking up less space.

It’s a sunny day, it was loud, hot, and cruel. Your boyfriend is louder than usual. He’s cracking open a protein bar, chewing with his mouth open, talking about last night’s scrimmage like he scored the winning goal when he didn’t.

The rest of the table’s half-listening, half-scrolling, except you. You’re not really listening either, just staring past him, eyes landing every so often on the quiet girl across the courtyard.

“Hey,” he says suddenly, too loud, tossing the wrapper behind him, “Check her out, the emo’s at it again.”

A few heads turn. Lara doesn’t. She keeps writing, pen steady, expression blank, but the flick of her wrist slows just slightly.

“She’s always drinking those, right? What, is that her whole diet? Strawberry fucking Hi-C?”

The others chuckle, just because he’s the one who said it, not because it’s funny.

“She’s not bad at writing though,” someone else mutters, attempting neutrality.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” your boyfriend says, “Bet she just recycles songs anyway. All that effort just to be weird.”

Then, lower, not for everyone, just for the boys, “Freaks like her are always hiding something. You know. Wouldn’t be surprised if she showed up with a knife one day,” Another laugh echoed, and it was way too loud, too long. One of the guys even fake-shivers.

“Okay,” you say under your breath, half-hearted. Not angry, just tired. He doesn’t hear you, or maybe he pretends not to.

Lara still hasn’t looked up, she just flips the page, starts over, but you can tell, just barely, that her hand is shaking now. Her fingers tighten around the pen. Her jaw works in slow, silent circles like she’s clenching it from the inside out, but she doesn’t say anything, and that’s because she knows better—because boys like him don’t need reasons. They just need someone softer than themselves to crush in front of an audience.

He leans back in his chair, tossing his empty drink bottle toward the trash but missing. You go to say something, to point it out, maybe, but then Lara looks up, and everything stops. She meets your eyes. Only for a second, maybe less, but it’s enough. Because you were already watching her the whole time.

Your face was unreadable; you looked calm, perhaps even bored. But you didn’t look surprised nor angry; you weren’t laughing, but you weren’t leaving either. Just sitting beside him like you belong there.

That look burns; it needles under her skin, and not because you’re mocking her, but because you aren’t. You look at her like you know exactly what’s happening, and you won’t do a damn thing about it. And maybe worst of all, behind that still expression, she sees it: that flicker of interest, and she hates it, hates you, but hates herself more.

He always picked on her; it wasn’t personal, at least that’s what she told herself. Guys like him didn’t need reasons. They were loud because they could be, mean because no one stopped them. It didn’t matter if she was sitting alone with her headphones in or just passing by with a guitar case slung over her shoulder. Somehow, she was still a target.

“She always looks like she’s about to cry,” he once said, fake-pouting to his friends, “Like, bro, you can’t major in feelings. Just say you’re broke and move on.”

She never responded, that would only make it worse. So she let it roll off, or at least tried to. Wrote about it in fragments, lyrics that never made it to full songs. Lines like:

he touches gold and still spits it out / says it tastes like pity and dirt / but I’m the one bleeding from the mouth.

She didn’t write for anyone but herself, that’s what she kept telling herself. Until the day she left her notebook on the bench outside the music building.

Lara had been rushing, late for class, brain buzzing with a melody she couldn’t get down in time. By the time she realized she left it, the notebook was already gone, her stomach twisted at the mere thought that someone else had it. It wasn’t just lyrics in that book, it was thoughts. Ghosts. Some of her handwriting was so frantic she couldn’t even remember writing it. That notebook had pieces of her no one had ever seen. If someone opened it, really opened it—

And then you appeared. You approached her nonchalantly, not a smile in sight, you didn’t even say much, you simply held it out to her, “Lara? I think you left this.”

She blinked, took it slowly, half-expecting a joke, but your tone was even. Neutral. Your eyes didn’t move like they were mocking her. They were just… there. Present. Real. She cleared her throat, “Did you—did you read it?”

You hesitated before answering, “Just the first few pages,” you said, “To figure out who it belonged to.”

That was it. There was no teasing or any commentary. There was no violation. Lara stared at you a little longer than she should have, heart thudding, waiting for the punchline. One that never came.

For three days after, she played that moment over in her head. You’d look tired. Pretty. Kind, maybe. She wasn’t even sure how you found out that it was hers; the notebook didn’t have her name or anything that would link it to her unless you truly knew her—which you didn’t.

But since then, she started writing again. Not songs, not yet, just stray lines about you. Your face. The way you handed the notebook back like it was something valuable. The way she imagined your fingers brushing over the spine, maybe lingering just a little too long.

Lara didn’t know your name, but she knew your voice now; your cadence. But then she heard him. It was in the quad, the group was gathered, loud and sprawled out over a cluster of benches. She wasn’t close, not that she ever was, but close enough to hear your boyfriend’s voice, cocky and nasal.

“She left her little diary full of sad girl poems or whatever, and of course guess who found it?”

Laughter, but they weren’t yours. She froze.

“She probably sings to herself in the mirror. Bet she thinks she’s deep. Like, ‘I’m not like other girls, I write about pain.’ So original.”

More laughter. Again, not yours.

And you—you just sat there. Quiet. Still. That’s when Lara knew. You’d read it. You told him. You handed it back with those calm eyes and let him rip it apart behind her back, and worst of all, you’d looked at her like you understood, like you liked what you read.

Lara burned the pages she’d written about you. She didn’t write for a week after that. Didn’t look at you when you crossed paths again in the hallway. She didn’t let herself stare too long when you were out at night, clinging to his arm like you were scared of your own thoughts.

But she remembered your face. She remembered thinking you were different. And maybe you were. Maybe that was what made it worse.

It was a warm afternoon, but Lara felt cold. The sun touched the backs of her arms as she sat on the grass, headphones on but not playing. She wasn’t close to them, just near enough to hear when they got too loud, and they always got too loud.

Your boyfriend was in rare form today. You were sitting beside him on the concrete bench, legs crossed, one hand nursing an iced coffee that had already started to sweat. You weren’t speaking, just listening in the conversation, watching your surroundings.

That was the worst part. Lara always knew when you were watching. It made her skin crawl. She honestly believed in things like that; gut feelings, energy, that whole “sixth sense” kind of thing. So she knew the weight of your stare the way she knew how to tune a guitar by instinct. Even with her back turned. Even when your voice didn’t join theirs. She knew.

‘Stop looking at me.’

“She’s probably writing about me right now,” your boyfriend laughed. He was talking about her again, loud enough to make sure she’d hear, “Like, ‘he pierced my soul with cruelty.’”

He put on a fake-sincere tone, “Bro, I swear to god, I saw her carrying that same notebook again last week. That shit’s like… a personal burn book set to acoustic guitar.”

The group erupted in laughter. Not all of them, but enough, “She just gives off that dark and misunderstood but boring as hell vibe, y’know?”

“She’s like… if Spotify Sad Girl playlists had a mascot,” Lara didn’t flinch. She didn’t turn around. That’s what he would have wanted.

She clenched her jaw, thumb digging into her palm; she could take this, she thought. She could always take it. But when he said it—

“Why’s she always dressing like she’s in a cultural identity crisis?”

—That’s when she almost turned. Her neck twitched, her eyes burned, but she didn’t move. If she looked at him, it would be worse. So she looked at you instead, and you were already looking at her.

And fuck, it felt like shame. You didn’t laugh; you never did. But you never told him to stop, either and that’s just as bad as what he’s doing. The way she looked at you now, eyes sharp, like knives honed on disbelief, made something in your chest twist painfully. Because she didn’t see awe or apology or guilt in your eyes. She saw pity.

‘Why are you still sitting with him?’

Lara’s lips parted, but no words came out. She looked away fast, as if the act of seeing you had burned her, had confirmed what she already knew. You weren’t kind. You weren’t different. You just knew how to pretend.

And you? You didn’t know how to explain to her that you weren’t pretending. You didn’t know how to tell her that you’d read her lyrics, just a handful, just enough to know it was her and to see she was brilliant, to understand she was hurting. You didn’t know how to say you weren’t laughing because you agreed, you were laughing because you were scared.

Of him. Of her. Of the way she looked when the sunlight hit her eyes and it made your breath hitch.

‘She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. But she looks at me like I’m filth.’

And maybe you deserved that.

Lara stood up abruptly. The air shifted with her movement, like the room had changed. Her footsteps were steady as she walked away, but you could feel it, the tremor in the space she left behind. The bitter perfume of disappointment clinging to the air.

Your boyfriend leaned back, scoffing, “She’s so dramatic.”

You didn’t respond. You just watched her leave. And wondered how it was possible to miss someone who was never yours.

She didn’t mean to bump into you the next day. Lara had just rounded the building, trying to cut across the campus walkway near the back stairwell, head down, earphones in but not playing. It wasn’t until she looked up, saw him first, then you behind him, that her spine went rigid.

She almost turned around, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You saw her a second too late, but he saw her instantly, “Look who it is.”

That same smirk and that same voice. That same ache in Lara’s temples from clenching her jaw too tightly.

You froze. “Let’s not—”

“Relax. I’m not gonna hit her,” he laughed, “Unless she’s got a song in there that rhymes with ‘restraining order.’”

Lara didn’t say a word.

Don’t give him anything. Not a glance. Not a reaction. He feeds on it.

You stepped forward. You reached for his arm, lightly, not enough to stop him, not enough to hold your ground.

“Come on,” you said softly, “Let’s just go. We’re gonna be late for lunch.”

But your hand slipped off when he stepped forward again, chest puffed slightly, posturing for a fight no one wanted, “Why do you always look so surprised to see me, huh?” he kept going, louder, “This is my campus too, sweetheart. You think you’re some tortured genius, walking around with your little emo notebook like anyone gives a shit?”

Still, Lara said nothing.

‘Just walk. Just walk away. You don’t owe him a goddamn thing.’

She didn’t move, but you did. You walked to her side, but didn’t say anything, not to her, not to him. You didn’t touch her, didn’t look at her; you just stood there. Close enough that your arm nearly brushed hers.

A little too close for him not to miss. A little too subtle for her to trust. But Lara noticed, of course she did.

She noticed the way your gaze didn’t leave him. The way your jaw was set, like you were biting your tongue hard enough to bleed. She noticed the way your body shifted, slightly angled, like you were trying to block his line of sight, like you were trying to make it harder for him to lunge if he ever got that idea.

But Lara also noticed how easily your hand slipped off his arm earlier. How quickly you gave up on pulling him away. She saw you do nothing when it counted, then felt you do something too late.

“You said you wanted sushi,” you said suddenly, eyes still on him. Your voice is quiet, almost pleasant, “Let’s go to the mall. They’ll have a table by now.”

He scoffed, “Are you serious?”

You didn’t respond. Just tilted your head toward the path. You still hadn’t looked at her. Lara didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

And then, as he turned with a final muttered insult, something she didn’t catch, something she didn’t care to, you followed. But not before Lara caught the barest flicker of your eyes, a glance over your shoulder. It wasn’t regret. It wasn’t guilt. It was something quieter. Something more raw. Perhaps it was shame.

Lara stood still in the heat of the sidewalk, alone now.

Her throat felt dry. Her pulse throbbed behind her ears. Not from anger, but from confusion. From the way her body had almost, almost leaned toward yours when you stood beside her. From the way your perfume had stuck to the air even after you left.

She hated that she remembered how it smelled. She hated that she thought, for just a second,

‘She stood beside me. Why?’

But most of all —

‘Why didn’t she stay?’

He always had something to say. Usually with his mouth full.

“So what, now you’re just gonna keep defending her?” he said, picking at his teeth with a toothpick he grabbed from the café counter, “The freak? I’m serious, babe, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were the one who wrote those lyrics.”

You stared out the window. The glass was slightly fogged from the aircon. You drew your finger across it, “You’re not funny,” you said quietly.

“I’m not joking,” he replied, “Those songs? Corny as hell. It’s giving diary entries, like—‘oh no, my feelings, someone validate me.’”

He laughed, “You said she plays guitar too, right? Bet she only knows, like, three chords.”

“Stop.”

“Why?”

He leaned back in the driver’s seat, “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking. You’re just too nice to admit it.”

You turned to face him, slow and steady, “I’m breaking up with you.”

He blinked. The air shifted. “You’re what?”

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said. Your voice was calm, almost soft, “I don’t like who I am when I’m with you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

You didn’t flinch, “I said I’m done.”

A pause. He laughed again, but it was forced now, “You’re being dramatic.”

You opened the car door. “Hey—hey. You’re not serious.”

You stepped out. The heat hit you in the face. “Come on, you’re being crazy right now. Babe—”

You shut the door. He didn’t follow. Of course he didn’t. Not when you were walking away. He sat there like he was waiting for a punchline, like it would all undo itself with time.

It didn’t. He didn’t tell people you broke up with him, he couldn’t stomach it. He still acted like he was yours, like nothing changed. But you knew.

Lara always came here when she wanted to disappear; there was something sacred about this room, dust collecting on the windowsills, half-broken blinds letting in streaks of sun like gold knives. The silence was its own kind of music, broken only by the soft scratch of pen to paper or the muted hum of her voice when she thought no one was around.

Today, she was humming again, something slow and unfinished, perhaps even beautiful, in the right hands. You stood by the door, watching her before she noticed.

You didn’t mean to intrude, just walking past, just drawn in by the sound. But now you are here, her back to you. The ache you’d carried for weeks threatening to spill into something you didn’t have a name for.

You took a breath, stepping into the room quietly, hoping that this could be the chance to finally apologize to the girl, to take accountability.

“Lara,” you said. She turned. Her body stiffened immediately, like your voice was a slap. Her eyes darkened, mouth setting in that tight, unimpressed line. She didn’t even pause to pretend, “No.”

That was all she said at first. Not hi, not what, not what are you doing here.

Just: no.

You tried again, “I just wanted—”

“I don’t care,” Lara didn’t raise her voice; she didn’t have to, “You need to leave,” she said flatly.

“I just… Lara, I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t say my name like that,” she snapped, stepping back like it hurt. You froze. She laughed, bitterly, “You and your boyfriend. You two always find a way to ruin things, huh?”

You opened your mouth, wanting to respond but nothing came out.

“I had one space,” she said, gesturing around the room, “One space that wasn’t crawling with people who stare. Or laugh. Or treat me like I’m fucking entertainment.”

“I’m not like him,” you said quietly. Her eyes flashed, “Aren’t you?”

You didn’t answer. What could you say? He’d torn her down in front of you, again and again, and you’d said nothing. You’d pulled him away, sure, once or twice, but did she ever see you stand against him?

“I didn’t tell him about the lyrics,” you tried. She stared.

“I just… I read the first page. That’s how I knew it was yours. I swear—”

“I said I don’t care.”

You blinked.

“I don’t care if you read them,” Lara said, stepping closer, “I don’t care what you told him. I don’t care what you think you came here to say.”

Then, softer, deadly quiet, “You don’t get to feel bad now.”

Your throat closed around something sharp.

“You don’t get to show up here like you’re not his,” Lara was so close now—she was close enough for you to smell the hint of citrus from her shampoo. Her eyes were wild in a way you hadn’t seen before, not dangerous, just frayed, like something inside her had been pulling and pulling and finally snapped.

You whispered her name again.

“Don’t,” She turned her back on you, and quietly walked toward the table, the notebook left open like a wound.

“You should go,” she said, “Before I really say something I regret.”

But you didn’t move; you were still staring at her, at the set of her shoulders, the trembling in her fingers. And for the first time, you realized: she hated you. That alone should have been your cue. You shouldn’t have followed her, especially not when she already told you to leave. Told you clearly. Told you twice. And yet you stayed.

You stood in that room like you had a right to be there, like your presence wasn’t the exact thing ruining it, “Lara, just—” you tried.

“I told you to go,” She still wasn’t looking at you.

Lara was sitting on an abandoned table, notebook on her knee, pen frozen mid-line. The chair meant for the table was pushed back, untouched. This was her place, her escape, and now you were in it, with your soft voice and your need to be understood.

“I’m not here to fight—”

“But you are here,” She looked up, and there it was, not sadness, not pain, but fury. Her anger looked controlled and quiet, but there was a certain finality to it, “You always ruin everything.”

“Lara, please.”

“No. No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to come in here and pretend you’re not him. You don’t get to want anything from me.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” She stood, finally asserting herself, “I don’t like you,” she said, “I never did.”

You blinked.

“I thought maybe you weren’t like the rest of them. But you are. You don’t listen. You don’t leave when people tell you to.”

Lara stepped toward you, just once, “You act soft but you make everything worse. You make me worse.”

Another step. Your breath caught.

“Get out,” she said again, but this time it was low. Different. Still, you didn’t move, so she did.

Lara crossed the space between you with two fast steps, her hands gripped your jaw, fingers pressing into your cheeks as she kissed you—if it could be called that.

Her mouth was hot and unrelenting, nothing tender in the way she devoured you. It was all teeth and frustration, a punishment passed through lips and tongue.

Her breath hitched, but not with affection; it was something closer to vindication. She’d wanted this for a long time, not because she liked you—but because she hated what you’d become in her eyes.

You didn’t kiss back, not at first. You just let it happen. That was what always seemed to bother people the most; you let things happen.

Lara’s hands were already roaming, gripping your tits, your waist, your hips like she meant to bruise you into memory. She pulled back just long enough to hiss against your lips.

“You and that fucking boyfriend,” she spat, “You’re perfect for each other—liars, cowards. But he didn’t deserve this,” Lara’s hand dragged down between your legs, “He didn’t deserve to fuck a body this pretty.”

You gasped, breathless and dazed, but still not fighting.

“And you—” she growled, pushing you back toward the table, “You don’t deserve to be fucked by a lousy dick like his.”

She shoved you roughly over the wooden surface, hands yanking up your skirt with zero ceremony. Your palms hit the cool table, legs parting slightly without conscious effort. Lara didn’t even stop to undress you properly—just pulled your panties to the side like they were in her way. Her other hand fumbled with her zipper, releasing the hard weight of her cock. And then—

She paused. Fingers brushed between your thighs and came back wet, making her breath hitch; you were soaked.

“Are you—” Lara scoffed, stunned for half a second, before anger took over again, “You wanted this?”

You didn’t answer, you didn’t need to. Your body did it for you. Lara laughed sarcastically, “Of course you did,” She gripped your hips hard, voice sharp as a blade.

“You’re worse than I thought,” she sneered, gripping herself at the base and slapping her cock against your folds, “Your boyfriend mocks me, calls me names, and here you are soaking for the same girl he hates.”

She leaned in, teeth grazing your ear, “Fine. Then I’ll give you what you want. I’ll ruin you for him.”

She aligned herself, cock twitching in her hand, dragging through your slickness again, slower this time, more cruel.

“He’ll never fuck you like I will,” And then she thrust in. One sharp, deep push—no warning, no tenderness, just heat and pressure splitting you open around her.

A choked sound escaped you as your body jolted forward, palms slipping on the polished wood. Lara didn’t hold back; she didn’t want soft, she wanted control and payback, and that’s exactly what you gave her.

“So fucking quiet,” Lara snarled, burying deeper, “Of course you are. Letting me do whatever the fuck I want. Just like you do with him when he says all that stupid crap about me.”

She started to move—rough, punishing strokes, slamming into you with the full force of her resentment. Each thrust knocked the air out of you, the table creaking under your body.

Every time she moved, her voice followed—cutting through the air, bitter and hot, “You let him touch you with hands that weak?”

She pushed in harder, “You let him fuck you with no idea what to do with a body like this?”

Her grip tightened, dragging you back to meet her, “He’ll never make you feel like this. Never.”

“I bet he doesn’t even make you come,” she growled, “But I will.”

Another thrust, it was too deep but it felt so good.

“I’ll make you forget his name,” Lara fucked you like it was a punishment. Like every thrust was a sentence, every snap of her hips a reckoning. And yet—god, you were melting for her. She could feel it. The way your walls clenched around her cock, wet and hot and tight like you were built for her rage. It pissed her off. It turned her on.

‘So fucking tight. So good.’

Her fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise, using you, dragging you back into each thrust like she couldn’t get deep enough. She didn’t even mean to last this long—but the way you felt, how easy you took her despite your silence, your docility—it made her want to ruin you more.

“You’re soaking,” Lara growled under her breath, not sure if it was to you or herself, “Fucking dripping for me.”

You couldn’t speak. Your head had dropped, your arms shaking as you gripped the edges of the table, lips parted in a moan you barely managed to swallow. You hated how good it felt. How right it felt. You hated how you didn’t do this sooner.

The stretch of her cock burned at first—ruthless, fast, deep—but now it just lit up every nerve ending you had, dragging moans from you without permission.

Your hips started moving back into hers, chasing her rhythm. Every time she pulled out, you followed. Every time she slammed back in, your thighs trembled and your eyes fluttered shut. And every time she noticed, she got meaner.

“Desperate little thing,” she hissed, “Bet you didn’t moan like that for him.”

Another thrust, “Bet he never even made you cum.”

Another, “I’ll show you how it’s supposed to feel.”

“Fuck,” you gasped—your first word—and it made Lara sneer.

“Oh? Now you’ve got something to say?” she taunted, voice low and cruel, “You don’t say shit when he’s being a dick in front of you. But this?”

She slammed into you again, deeper. Anger was laced with her voice when she said, “This you moan for?”

You bit your lip, stifling another one, but it was too late. Lara could feel it—your cunt fluttering around her like you were about to cum already.

“You’re fucking close, aren’t you?” she hissed, hips grinding into you now, angling her thrusts with a precision she didn’t know she had when she was this angry, “Gonna come all over me just because I said my dick is better than his.”

Your eyes rolled back. Her cock hit just right, dragging against that perfect spot, the tip pressing deeper than anyone else had reached—and you came, hard, without warning. Your body tensed, thighs shaking as you pulsed around her, crying out into your arm as she fucked you through it, not slowing down once.

Lara’s eyes widened, heart thudding in her throat as she felt your orgasm milk her cock. She shouldn’t enjoy it this much. She should hate this. She does. But you were also being so good right now.

And you kept clenching, kept dripping.

‘She’s still wet. Still needy.’

“You came already?” she mocked, panting now, “So fucking desperate.”

You were still coming down when she changed her pace into something slower, deeper, meaner. And you moaned again.

Lara’s hands slid up your back, gripping your shoulder, pinning you there like you’d try to run. She bent over you, hips rolling into you with deliberate cruelty.

“I’ll make you cum again,” she whispered darkly into your ear, “I want you ruined. I want you to remember my dick every time he touches you.”

You whimpered—because it was working. She was still fucking you and you were already climbing again. That coil tightening low in your belly, unbearable, as your body moved in sync with hers like it needed her to break you.

And then it hit you again—your second orgasm crashing into you, louder this time, messier. You clenched around her cock, thighs trembling as you pushed back into her like you wanted more, even through the aftershocks.

“Fuck…” Lara cursed, voice breaking, trying to hold back her own release. She wasn’t done with you yet. You barely had time to catch your breath.

Lara pulled out, only to grab you by the thighs—rough, possessive—and lift you like you weighed nothing. You took off your blouse, followed by your bra, as she positioned you on the table. The scrape of the table edge against your back, cold wood meeting flushed skin, made you gasp. Her hands moved without hesitation, pushing you down until your head tipped over the end, hair almost brushing the floor.

You blinked at the ceiling, and then at her.

Her shirt was half unbuttoned, chest heaving, pants undone just enough to give her access. Her cock stood slick and flushed, still hard. Angry. She loomed above you, watching how your lips parted when you realized what was coming next.

She pressed the tip against your mouth.

“Open,” she said. It was a demand, not a question.

You obeyed instantly.

She fed it to you slowly, almost mockingly—letting you feel the weight of it on your tongue, the heat, the stretch. Your breath hitched as she pushed deeper. Your back arched, hands grabbing for her shirt, her thighs—anything.

She didn’t let up, “Look at you,” Lara murmured, voice low, dangerous, “You let him kiss you with that mouth?”

She pulled back slightly, then pushed in again, harder this time, “You let him fuck you, call it love, and now you’re gagging on the cock of the girl he laughs at.”

Her rhythm grew relentless, “Gonna cum on your tongue, baby. I’m gonna cum so hard, all you’ll remember is my cock even when his tongue is in your mouth.”

Your throat tightened, eyes watering. You moaned around her, muffled and raw, while your own hands found your tits, rolling your nipples between trembling fingers as your hips shifted on the table, legs spread obscenely. You didn’t care. You couldn’t.

“You like this?” she growled, “You like being used like this, right where anyone could walk in?”

Laughter rang out in the hallway—students passing by, unaware of what was happening behind the door, or maybe not.

Lara didn’t stop, instead, she shoved her dick deeper into you, her voice thick with cruelty and heat.

“They’ll see you like this,” she whispered, “See you like the slut you are. Pretty little mouth stuffed full. Eyes all glassy. My cock down your throat like you were made for it.”

You choked on a moan. Her words sent a jolt down your spine.

She leaned down, pressing her body over yours, caging you in.

“You don’t even care, do you?” she taunted, “Bet you’d let me take you out there—make you kneel in the hallway, show everyone what you really are.”

You couldn’t answer. Your throat was too full. But your hips moved again, rutting into the air. Your fingers dug into her thighs, holding her in place—begging without words for more.

She laughed again, breathless this time, “You’d let me fuck you in front of him, wouldn’t you?” she said, hand gripping your jaw, “Make him watch me break you open. Show him how much better I’ll always be.”

Lara wasn’t done with you. Without a word, she stepped up onto the table, one knee planting beside your head, then the other. She straddled your face like she owned it—because in that moment, she did. The weight of her thighs bracketing your skull, the heat of her body settling just above your lips—it was dizzying.

“Keep that mouth open,” she muttered. Her voice was low, but the command snapped with tension.

You did, without even thinking, and she sank in again deeper than before.

She gripped your head with both hands now, thumbs pressed into your cheeks, holding you steady as her hips rolled forward. Her pace was deliberate—almost punishing. Every thrust filled you, every motion brought her closer, until your lips were flush with the soft curls at her base, and the scent of her was everywhere, overwhelming.

Your eyes watered. You gasped when you could, only to be filled again. But you didn’t pull away, not when this was the only place on Earth that you’d rather be.

You held onto her thighs, your body arching from the table as if trying to match her rhythm, as if you needed this just as badly. Lara looked down at you, eyes blazing.

“This what you wanted?” she hissed, hips snapping forward again, “Letting me use your mouth like he never could? Letting me take what he never deserved?”

You gurgled around her, choked on her rhythm—but she didn’t slow.

Outside, footsteps passed. Laughter again. A voice calling someone’s name down the hall. She didn’t stop. She didn’t even falter.

“They’re right outside,” she said, breath ragged, “One wrong move and they’ll see you. Mouth full. Face ruined. And you won’t even care, will you?”

You didn’t. Not with the way she was fucking you. Not with the way her words seared through your skin, the way her hands held your skull like something precious and breakable.

You moaned, or tried to, and she felt it—deep in her.

“That’s it,” she whispered, looking down at you like she hated how much she wanted you, “Take it.”

Lara’s movements become rougher, less controlled. Her grip on your head was much firmer than before, her breath stuttering, “Fuck—too good. So fucking warm. So wet. That mouth—” She moaned as watches you choke slightly, moaning around her cock, your body arched.

She grits her teeth, hips snapping forward with ragged intensity, “You fucking love this, don’t you?” she pants, “Letting me ruin you.”

The room is hot, thick with panting and slick sounds. Lara’s thighs are shaking slightly now, knees pressing into the table on either side of your head as she aggressively face-fucks you, “Fuck—you take it so well, like it’s all you’re good for,” she growled, sweat slick on her temple as her hips slammed forward without rhythm. Her hands gripped your jaw like a vice, forcing your lips wider, “You’re mine now. Not his. Never his.”

The tension in her body grew as she neared the peak of her release—the way her back arches, her thighs shake, her pace stutters.

Her thrusts were erratic, mindlessly fucked your face needily. She cursed again, louder this time, her abs clenching as her rhythm broke entirely. For a moment, all you could hear was her breath—ragged and frantic—as she threw her head back, practically pounding in your mouth.

‘Lara’s fucking me like she hates me. Like she owns me. And I want more.’

Lara pulls back a second, just enough to say, “Open your mouth. I want to see your fucking face when I cum.” She jerks herself quickly, before sliding her cock against your tongue one last time. She was moaning unapologetically loud now, almost involuntarily. And that’s when the tension finally snaps, Lara cums hard, her hips jerking forward once, then pulling back sharply.

Her cum spills across your face, some hitting the tongue, some dripping down your cheeks and chin, “Fuck—take it. Take all of it,” she growls, voice thick, watching her release hit your open mouth, “God, look at you. Just fucking made for this.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, jaw sore and lips swollen, but you didn’t move; you couldn’t. Not when she was still grinding forward on your tongue like she never wanted to stop. She sounded wrecked—raw and real in a way that made your thighs clench instinctively.

Lara stares down at the mess breathlessly, her pupils blown. Some cum was still clinging to her cock, some were dripping off your lips. She growls softly, dick still twitching, she pushes back into your mouth, sliding her tip between your lips again, smearing her release across your tongue, “Didn’t say you could stop,” Lara mutters, almost dazed, “Clean it up.”

Your breath is ragged. You’re still lying on the table, flushed, body slack, skin shining with sweat and semen. Your chest rises and falls. The taste of her lingers in your mouth, thick on your tongue, dripping down your jaw. You can’t move.

Lara’s standing still. Towering over you. Eyes locked on your body—your face, your parted lips, your ruined thighs. Her own breathing is uneven, the final threads of release still curling around her spine. Her pants are still down, her cock wet and twitching, glistening at the tip.

You blink up at her slowly; there’s no shame in your eyes, not anymore. Just heat, a soft daze, and for the first time today, she doesn’t look angry. She simply moves. It’s quiet—the drag of fabric, the faint creak of the table. She positions herself, but not in front of your face like before, but between your legs. Her hands slide under your knees, lifting them just enough to spread you open again. You flinch.

She notices, then paused, but Lara leans in anyway. Her lips brush your inner thigh first. A kiss—slow and damp. And then her mouth finds your cunt.

You gasp.

There’s no rush now. Her tongue is steady, unhurried, warm. She tastes you like she’s drinking, like she’s savoring. You’re still messy—slick and swollen and overstimulated—and yet she doesn’t stop. Doesn’t falter. If anything, she groans into you, low and quiet, like she's been craving this; like she’s starving.

Your fingers twitch against the table. Your hips lift, just slightly, and she follows. Lara presses her tongue deeper. Licks up the wetness she helped create. Sucks at your clit so slowly, you swear your vision whites out.

You’re shaking again—but differently now. This isn’t about punishment, not anymore. It’s not about your boyfriend. It’s not about revenge.

This is just Lara. Mouth between your thighs, tongue worshipping what she just wrecked, and it’s… almost gentle.

She makes a sound low in her throat, like she’s breathing you in. Your name leaves her mouth, barely formed, like she’s quietly worshipping. And something inside you unspools. The air shifts.

The tension that once clawed at your spine softens, curls inward, exhales. You feel her hands tighten, not to restrain you, but to anchor. Her mouth moves slower, more purposefully now, as if she’s chasing not just your release, but something else too. Forgiveness. Closeness. Maybe even clarity.

You meet her eyes briefly, and there’s no smirk, no smugness, nor bite. What you saw was something open. It was wounded and wanting. And it breaks you.

You cum with a sob. It’s quieter than before—no loud slap of skin, no degrading words curling in your ears. Just Lara’s mouth, still on you, her arms locked around your thighs, holding you down like she’s afraid you might float away. You clench around nothing. Your body trembles. She doesn’t stop until you’re shaking in full.

And when she reluctantly pulls back, her mouth is wet with you. Her lips are swollen, cheeks flushed. She breathes for a second, watching you.

Lara’s hands were still on your thighs, her breath cooling the skin between your legs as she looked up at you. But it wasn’t taunting anymore. Not hungry or spiteful or punishing. It was quiet. Something softer.

You were still catching your breath when she leaned in again, not to devour, but to kiss.

She starts kissing her way up. Your inner thigh. The crease of your hip. Your belly. Each kiss is slow, warm, almost as if she’s worshipping your body. Her hand strokes your side—thumb brushing your ribs, palm dragging up to your breast. She mouths over your sternum, the space between your tits, your neck.

And when she finally crawled up your body, meeting your gaze, you saw it—something in her had cracked open. The rage had drained out of her, and what was left was raw and tender. Lara pauses above your lips, as if observing your reaction, gauging if you wanted this, then she kisses you.

But this time, it’s not rough. There was no biting or vengefulness or rush. It’s deep. Tender. Open. A kiss that doesn’t ask for anything. A kiss that lingers. Her fingers threaded gently into your hair, not to pull, not to dominate—but to hold. She moaned into your mouth like she was drunk on you, like kissing you was the only thing that made sense.

She whispered your name.

It wasn’t a command this time. It wasn’t even a plea. It was just the way it sounded in her head when she thought about you. Honest. Quiet. Bare.

Your hands hesitantly rise, unsure, before they find their way tangled in her hair. Lara exhales into your mouth, then pulls back just far enough to whisper, “I still hate you.”

You smile, “I know.”

Then she lines herself up again. You don’t even look down—you just feel it. The weight of her cock between your thighs. The way her tip nudges your entrance, slick and eager. But she doesn’t thrust yet.

She looks at you, and for the first time, you see her hesitate. You nod at her quietly, just once, and she finally pushes in slowly; it was so slow it aches. Lara groans—deep, low, like she’s falling apart. Your mouth parts. Your body clenches around her, still sensitive, still warm. She buries herself to the hilt.

No punishment this time, no taunts. Just her, fully inside you, as you gasp into the open air between your mouths.

“Fuck,” she mutters, “You’re perfect.”

You tilt your hips up. Pull her closer. Her mouth meets yours again, this time with more urgency—but it’s not angry. It’s aching.

She begins to move.

Her hips moved slowly, like she wanted to feel everything. Like she wanted you to feel her—not just the stretch or the weight, but her. All of her. She kissed you as she fucked you, her hand cradling the side of your face, her body pressed flush to yours.

And you realized, maybe she’d needed this just as much as you had. Not the payback, not even the dominance, but the closeness; the kind you can’t take back.

Lara moved like she was afraid to break you. The stretch of her was familiar by now, but the way she eased into you, slowly and steady, pausing just to breathe against your mouth, it made you feel like it was the first time. Your hands were in her hair, pulling her closer, and she let you. She let herself be held.

Her forehead pressed to yours as her hips rocked into you, her rhythm was patient. You gasped, and she caught the sound with her lips, kissing it away before it could settle in the air.

“I hate how much I wanted you,” she whispered, voice ragged with emotion, “Still do.”

But she was trembling, not from anger—something else. The way you clenched around her made her groan, low in her throat, and she slowed even more, grinding deep instead of thrusting fast.

Her cock dragged perfectly along your walls, her pelvis flush against yours with every roll of her hips, sending sparks up your spine with how tender it felt—how full.

You arched into her, moaning softly into her ear, and she gasped like it surprised her, “You feel…” she started, but didn’t finish. Instead, she kissed you again, slower now, her tongue curling against yours like she was trying to say what she couldn’t.

Lara buried herself deep and just stayed there, breathing you in, “I didn’t think I could touch you like this,” she said against your neck, her voice raw, “Not like this.”

Your fingers slid down her back, nails grazing over her skin, and she shivered. You weren’t begging. You weren’t crying. You were with her—meeting every roll of her hips with your own, slow and in sync.

Your moans were soft, breathy, the kind that only came from being fucked just right. Not pounded, not used—known.

Lara gritted her teeth, trying to hold herself together, but you could feel her approaching the edge. Her eyes were wide, almost scared, like she didn’t know how to be gentle and still want something this much.

You cupped her cheek. And for the first time, she let herself look at you. Not the enemy. Not the brat. Just you. Just this.

She rocked into you deeper then, her pace tender but relentless, and you felt your body cresting toward something warm and quiet and whole. Your legs trembled around her hips, your body arching as pleasure built again—but this time, it didn’t break you. It held you.

Lara was whispering something you couldn’t quite make out. Your name, maybe, or perhaps just, “Please.”

And then you cum—shuddering around her cock, burying your face in her neck, clinging to her like you’d fall apart without her.

She didn’t stop, she just held you through it and kissed your temple. Lara slowed just enough to let you feel everything. And for a moment, she wasn’t angry anymore. She was yours.

The world felt hushed after. No rush of blood in your ears, no desperate hands, just warmth.

Lara stayed inside you for a long time, as if moving would make the moment vanish. Her body was heavy, but it didn’t weigh on you. It grounded you. Her breath was soft against your collarbone, her arms caging you in like a shield instead of a trap.

Neither of you said anything.

You could feel her heartbeat in the way her chest pressed against yours; it felt fast, unsteady even. She was still catching up to what just happened, and maybe, so were you.

Your hand moved first. Fingers brushing her hair out of her face, thumb ghosting across her cheek. She flinched at the softness of it, like it embarrassed her. Still, she didn’t pull away.

Instead, she kissed your shoulder. Then your chest. Then the underside of your jaw. Not like before, not to provoke, not to claim. Just… kissing. Like she wanted to remember the taste of peace before it slipped away.

And it was slipping. You felt it in the silence. In the way her eyes flicked to the side, avoiding yours.

She slowly pulled out of you, careful and quiet. You winced at the loss, the soreness blooming, but didn’t say anything. Lara reached for a discarded shirt, yours, maybe hers, and gently wiped between your thighs, her touch tentative, unsure if she was allowed to care this much.

Then she lay beside you, her head next to yours on the table’s edge, like she couldn’t bear to go far but didn’t know how to stay close either.

You stared at the ceiling. So did she.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” she murmured. You didn’t ask which part. You weren’t sure you were ready to hear it. Or ready to forgive it. But still, you whispered, “I know.”

Lara looked at you then. Really looked. And for a second, her face softened like she might cry, but she didn’t; she swallowed it down, tightening her jaw.

Her fingers brushed yours. A silent offer. Not an apology, not a promise. Just a question: Are we okay? You didn’t answer. But you didn’t pull away. And that was enough, at least for now.

But the quiet between you was no longer peaceful. It pulsed with the weight of what hadn’t been said. With the memory of doors slammed and voices raised and all the ways you’d hurt each other.

Still, Lara stayed close. Still, you let her.

Even if tomorrow, none of this made sense, right now, she was warm, and you were tired, and your fingers were still laced together in the room that’s now filled with memories.

The silence afterward was soft, not heavy. No longer bruising.

Lara had her forehead against your shoulder, one arm still loosely around your waist. Your hand brushed up her spine, slow and aimless, just letting the air settle between you. Her breathing had evened out, but she hadn’t moved since the last kiss.

Eventually, reality began to hum back in; the sound of a distant door, the flicker of fluorescent lights, the faint chill of the classroom.

“We should…” you murmured, voice hoarse, “probably get dressed.”

Lara made a low, reluctant sound, it’s not quite agreement, but not quite in protest either. Eventually she sat up, her hair was tousled, her shirt half-buttoned, and her mouth kissed red and slick.

You both dressed in silence. Not the kind that punished, but kind that lingered. You fastened the last button on your blouse, smoothing it out with suddenly nervous fingers. She was facing away from you now, buttoning her pants, her back rising and falling with quiet breaths.

You hesitated. Then, “Would you… maybe want to get dinner?”

She turned slightly, eyes sharp. You clarified, quickly, “I mean, I could buy you dinner. Or make you something. If you ever felt like coming over.”

Lara blinked. You pushed through the knot in your throat, “We don’t have to—I just. I think we should talk. Clear the air. That’s all. But only if you’re open to it. If not, I get it.”

You weren’t sure what kind of answer you were hoping for. You only knew your voice shook more than you wanted it to.

Lara didn’t speak right away. She just looked at you. Something in her gaze shifted; it was not soft exactly, but it was no longer guarded. Maybe it was curiosity or exhaustion; perhaps it was something in between.

Then she looked away and picked up her jacket, “Where do you live?” she asked, quietly.

You paused, silently giving yourself a high five in your head, “Fifteen minutes from here. Give or take.”

She nodded once, adjusting her jacket like it was armor again, “Text me the address.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart kicked in your chest, “You’re coming?”

She shrugged, but her voice was almost… teasing, “I never said I wasn’t.”

And just like that, the moment folded inward. The silence returned, but this time, it wasn’t avoidance. It was a promise.

Your apartment smelled like garlic and rosemary. The pasta was almost done, the sauce thickening as you stirred. You had changed into a clean T-shirt and loose pants, something that made you feel a little more grounded. Presentable. Normal, even if nothing about tonight had been.

Then came the knock. You wiped your hands and crossed the room, pulse ticking as you opened the door. There she was. Lara.

Still in the same clothes, though her hair was pulled back now. Neater. Her eyes met yours without flinching, but something in her posture, in the subtle tension of her jaw, told you she was just as unsure as you were.

“Hey,” you said, offering a smile, “Come in.”

She stepped past you, eyes scanning the place, the soft lighting, the little dining setup you’d fussed over more than you cared to admit. You tried not to hover.

“I made pasta,” you added, unnecessarily, “Figured it’s hard to mess up.”

Lara looked at the plate you set down, “Smells good.”

You both sat. At first, the clink of forks and the low hum of the stovetop were the only sounds between you.

You chewed, swallowed, and searched for something light, “So… do you cook?”

Lara lifted an eyebrow, “Does microwaving count?”

You huffed a laugh, “Only if you survive eating it.”

“I mean, I’m still alive,” There was the smallest smirk on her lips, but it faded quickly, her eyes drifting toward her plate again. You kept eating, slower now. Letting the silence breathe but not stretch too long.

“Thanks for this,” she said finally.

You glanced up, “For dinner?”

“For… not making it weird.”

You offered a small smile, “It is a little weird.”

She let out a breath, a soft, short huff of agreement, “Yeah.”

Another silence, thicker this time. And then, because you couldn’t put it off anymore, you set your fork down gently.

“I meant what I said earlier,” you said, “I do want to clear the air.”

Lara fully looked at you then. She wasn’t hiding, not bracing either; just… looking. You shifted in your seat, fingers loosely clasped in front of your plate.

“I don’t know what this is, Lara,” you said honestly, “But I know what it wasn’t. That sex, the way it happened, it wasn’t just about you being angry. And it wasn’t just about me being an asshole.”

She stayed quiet. So you kept going.

“I think we’re both scared. Or pissed. Or—I don’t know. But I don’t want to pretend it didn’t mean anything. And I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to.”

Her expression stayed unreadable, but her throat worked like she’d swallowed something hard.

“You didn’t hurt me,” she said, slowly, “You just… hit something I was trying not to look at.”

You exhaled through your nose, “I get that.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s easier if you hate me.”

That hurt in a way you didn’t expect.

You reached out, just enough for your fingers to brush the table near hers, “I don’t hate you, Lara.”

She looked down at your hand, then back at your face, “Maybe you should.”

And it was such a lonely thing to say, it made your chest ache. You didn’t reach for her yet. You just looked at her and said, soft but firm, “I won’t.”

Lara didn’t respond right away. You could feel the air between you cooling, not from disinterest, but from hesitation.

You took a slow breath, “I should’ve said this earlier,” you began, “And I don’t expect it to fix anything. But… I’m sorry.”

Her brows pulled together, almost confused, “For what?”

“For him,” You swallowed, “For letting that go on for so long. For pretending it wasn’t that bad. Even when it was.”

Lara’s eyes flickered. You could tell she wasn’t expecting that. You pressed your palms together, grounding yourself, “I think I kept waiting for him to turn into someone he never really was. And I was so tired of fighting that I started telling myself it wasn’t worth making noise about anymore.”

You paused, “But it was hurting me. And… it was hurting how I looked at you.”

That pulled her attention sharply.

“I hated how he treated you,” you said, “How he’d make digs and put his hands on me like he was proving something. And I still stayed. I didn’t defend you when I should’ve. And I want you to know that that was cowardly. And I’m sorry.”

The silence felt louder now. Lara leaned back slightly in her chair. She blinked like she was still processing. Then her voice came, soft, but edged with something surprised, “So you’re… not with him anymore?”

You nodded, “I ended it. I told him last week.”

Something shifted behind Lara’s eyes. A flash of something like relief or confusion, perhaps it was both, “You didn’t tell anyone,” she said.

“It didn’t feel like a story worth telling. Just something I should’ve done sooner,” You let that settle, then added, quieter, “And if I’m being honest… I think I’ve been thinking about someone else for a while now.”

Lara tilted her head, “Yeah?”

You looked at her then, really looked at her, and for once you didn’t deflect, “Yeah.”

She blinked. Slow. Cautious. Like she wasn’t sure whether to believe you, or whether it was fair to.

“I thought maybe I was just projecting,” you said, smiling faintly, “Because you’re…you. Loud, magnetic, impossible to ignore. But it wasn’t just that. I think I noticed how you saw me. When he didn’t.”

Her face softened.

“And it scared the shit out of me.”

Lara leaned forward, elbows on the table now, eyes locked onto yours, “Still scared?”

You met her gaze, and for the first time in a while, felt something honest settle in your chest, “A little less.”

Lara didn’t say anything at first. But you saw her eyes flick to your mouth, then back to your eyes, like she was trying to decide if she should cross the line that had already been erased hours ago.

You didn’t wait. You reached out, gently took her hand across the table, “You can… come sit with me, if you want.”

She stood slowly, then rounded the table and sank beside you on the couch, knees brushing yours. You weren’t touching yet, but the heat was there, humming in the small space between you.

Then, finally, your hand found her jaw. You kissed her slowly, deep, nothing like the first time in that classroom. No breathless anger, no punishing urgency. Just the press of lips that had wanted this too long, too quietly.

You kissed her like you were trying to say everything you hadn’t. She kissed you like she wanted to believe you meant it. And you did.

Your arms slid around her waist. You pulled her close, impossibly close, until her chest was pressed to yours, your fingers gripping the back of her shirt like you were scared she’d disappear. She felt it.

Lara pulled back just a little, just enough to look at you, and you didn’t realize how tightly you were holding her until her voice came, low and almost hesitant, “You’re really not letting go, huh?”

Your breath hitched. You tried to laugh, but it came out smaller than expected, “No,” you whispered, “I’m not.”

Lara’s face shifted, something unspoken unfolding in her expression. And then she pulled you right back in, one hand sliding up your spine, the other curling protectively around your shoulder.

You buried your face in her neck, breathing her in, clinging. For the first time since everything exploded, since the yelling, the fucking, the fallout, it felt like peace. Like maybe this was what you’d both been chasing. Not just pleasure. Not just closure. But each other.

Lara’s thumb traced your cheekbone like she was trying to memorize you. You looked up at her from the couch, eyes soft, breath already shallow from the way her hands had lingered, not with hunger this time, but something deeper. Something like awe.

You reached up, touching her face, tucking her hair back behind her ear, “Come here,” you murmured, voice barely a breath. She leaned down slowly, and when she kissed you again, it was different. Gone was the sharpness, the desperate edge. This kiss was warm and steady. Like you were hers, and she was yours, and the rest of the world could wait.

She carried you to your bedroom, carefully, like you might break if she wasn’t gentle. And when she laid you down, it was with a look on her face you’d never seen before, like she’d found something she never thought she deserved.

Your hands moved beneath her shirt, pushing the fabric up with quiet desire. You kissed every inch of skin you uncovered, her stomach, her ribs, the space just under her breasts. You worshipped her body, slow and unhurried, until she finally let you pull the shirt over her head.

And then her gaze dropped to you.

She sat back on her knees beside you, silent, eyes drinking you in like she was seeing something sacred. You felt the air change again—thick with adoration, not lust. When her fingers reached for the hem of your shirt, she hesitated, her touch featherlight.

“Is this okay?” she whispered. You nodded, already breathless.

She peeled your shirt up with slowly, carefully. Her eyes didn’t leave your skin as more of it was revealed. And when she saw you—truly saw you—her breath caught, and her thumb traced the dip between your ribs like it meant something. Like you meant something.

Lara bent down and pressed a kiss to your chest, just over your heart.

Her fingers moved to your waistband next, tugging gently at the soft fabric of your pants. You lifted your hips for her, letting her pull them down, leaving you bare and open in front of her. But you didn’t feel exposed.

You felt seen.

She sat there for a beat, just looking at you like she didn’t know what she’d done to deserve this moment.

Then she touched your thigh, warm and steady, and leaned forward to kiss you again.

This time slower. This time sweeter. Like she didn’t want to stop. You lean into her, pressing kisses on her skin.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered against her, your lips brushing over her collarbone, “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

Lara exhaled shakily. Her fingers curled into the bedsheets on either side of you.

You kissed your way up to her mouth, “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

She looked like she was going to argue, like some part of her didn’t believe you, but you didn’t let her.

You kissed her again, soft, open, aching, and guided her gently between your legs.

This time, she entered you with a tenderness that stole the air from your lungs.

There was no rushing nor any sharp words, just the warmth of her body above yours, the feeling of her forehead pressed to yours as she moved slowly inside you.

She kissed you through every thrust, your lips, your jaw, the tip of your nose. Her hands cradled your face, like she couldn’t stop touching you, couldn’t believe you were real.

And in the spaces between her movements, she whispered your name like a prayer. You clung to her, hips rising to meet hers, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. Not from pain. Not from guilt. But from the overwhelming way she was holding you, like this wasn’t just sex.

Like it was love. You moaned her name, your voice breaking, your hands sliding up her back, “Don’t stop,” you whispered. “Please, Lara—”

She didn’t. She moved with you, for you, until you came again, shuddering, clinging to her, your face buried in the crook of her neck. And she stayed with you, moving gently, as you rode the waves together.

Afterward, she didn’t pull away. She stayed wrapped around you, her lips against your temple, your thighs tangled. No words, just breath and heartbeat and warmth.

And the quiet, terrifying possibility that maybe, just maybe, this was what it meant to be loved.

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camdunez · 21 days ago

Text

Baby, Don’t Leave Me | d. avanzini smau

"HOW CAN YOU BE IN LOVE SO STONG, AND THROW IT ALL AWAY?"

paring: daniela avanzini x gn!reader synopsis: daniela ghosted you years ago, focusing her time on becoming the star she always wanted to be. you didn't take the situation well, writing about it in your group's music. she didn't hear from you since then, so imagine her surprise when she sees you on a stream with her favorite artist.

status: ongoing!

featuring: katseye, ningning + winter from aespa, keeho from p1h, amp + other celebs. genre: smau + written, fluff, angst, suggestive tags/warnings: singer!yn, idol!dani, exes to lovers, yn's a streamer too, dani's a little mean (a lowkey hater if you will), kys/kms jokes, cursing, substance use, yn's black (idk if i needed to pput it as a warning but wtv)

a/n: first ever smau let's go! honestly, these types of fics look fun to do! maybe i'll do more smaus for the girls in the future! i will also be adding more songs to the playlist as the story goes! a/n #2: this is an original work, and is solely meant for entertainment purposes. the characters actions in this fic do not represent their real life counterparts. yn does not have a set face claim, just random masc peepz on pintrest so creds to the owners. for the lore, yn and their group is from detroit. but the story takes place in LA.

a/n #3: i was gonna make this a sophia smau but dani fits this plot more if that makes sense.

yn's group info

profiles: yn and the crew! | them cat girls! | extras!

000. wasteland + the stream 001. that album ain't all that fr 002. top hater 003. can't have shit in detroit 004. 005.

taglist: @weepingmanon @4kozy @gay-panic-at-all-times @hiraizyo @vaughngoh @artistwitchgirl @elpolloesrico1111111 @multistann32 comment to be added!

#katseye x reader #katseye #daniela avanzini x reader #katseye daniela x reader #katseye daniela #daniela avanzini #daniela x reader #katseye reactions #katseye imagines #katseye smau #katseye scenarios #baby don't leave me smau #katseye manon #katseye sophia #katseye lara #megan skiendiel #jeong yoonchae #sophia laforteza

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nakylvr · 9 months ago

Note

can you please do fluff prompt 4 and 6 with katseye lara×fem reader??

Where lara notices one of her shirts are missing and during practice she sees reader wearing and it all ends in confessions from both of them

Thank you and stay happy<3

(Ps: can the reader be like the shortest member of katseye(158cm-160cm)

this was so fun to write omg thank you for requesting 🫶

— NOBODY BUT YOU

lara raj (katseye) x fem!reader

summary: fluff prompts 4("is that my shirt?) + 6("keep it, it looks better on you") from my 100 follower event OR during practice, lara notices one of her shirts is missing, only to find you wearing it

warnings/tags: fluff, confessions, 7th member!reader, wlw

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

lara isn't one to lose things. so when she realized one of her shirts was missing, she thought she was going insane. she looked through her things again before giving up realizing she would be late for practice if she tried looking for it again.

walking into the dance studio, lara's eyes land on you sitting on the floor while looking at your phone. her gaze focuses on what you're wearing, noticing the familiar shirt, and she feels her heart practically flip over at the sight of you wearing her shirt. before she could say or do anything, practice had to be started.

during the entire practice lara couldn't keep her eyes off you. she even messed up once or twice because she was looking at you instead of focusing on the formations. she was thinking of how to talk to you about it, going through different scenarios in her head before deciding to just wing it in the end.

once practice was over, the rest of the girls had left the studio leaving just you and lara in there. she walks up to you as you grab your phone, glancing up and seeing her approaching you.

"is that my shirt?" she doesn't bother beating around the bush, getting straight to the point.

your face immediately heats up when she questions you. looking down at yourself and what you're wearing, your blush only grows bigger as you look back at her. "i-i thought it was mine, i was rushing and didn't even notice i'm so sorry," you start talking quickly, not knowing what her reaction would be. "i'll wash it and give it back t-"

"keep it, it looks better on you," lara smiles at you, adoring your response to her simple question. she takes another step towards you and grabs your hand. "y'know, i'd like to see you in my clothes more often. you'd look so cute in one of my outfits."

you can feel your brain short circuiting as you listen to her talk to you. she's totally flirting with you, right? who else would say that with a purely platonic tone underneath it? you've had a crush on lara since you met her, and this is leading you to think that maybe she likes you too. you don't know how to respond, looking up at her as she smiles at you. "i'd like that," you eventually reply.

a silence fills the air for a moment, and your eyes trail down to her lips and then meeting her eyes again. she leans down a bit, her face inches away from yours as she quietly speaks. "can i kiss you?"

all you can do is nod your head, not trusting yourself to speak as you feel your heartbeat picking up in speed. the second after you nod, lara closes the gap between you two, kissing you softly. the kiss is short-lived when she pulls back, grinning down at you. "you wore my shirt on purpose, didn't you?"

a smile is on your face as you peer up at her, giggling at her question and nodding again. "maybe i did," you answer sheepishly.

"nice idea," she laughs. "so, do you maybe wanna like, be my girlfriend then?" is her next question, still holding onto your hand as her thumb draws circles into your skin.

your smile grows bigger at the second question, nearing a grin as you respond. "of course."

leaning closer again, lara pecks your lips quickly. "who knew losing one of my shirts would get me a girlfriend."

#katseye x reader #katseye imagines #katseye scenarios #lara rajagopalan x reader #lara x reader #lara raj x reader #lara imagines #lara scenarios #request #100 follower event

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98oceans · 15 days ago

Text

◜ ͡ ◝ TRACK TEN 𓎢𓎟𓎡 D.A.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ I blame it on your love, every time I fuck it up

�� ✿֔ᮬ ( 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕 ) 𖹭 daniela avanzini x f!r ✴︎ angst ── college au, y/n as daniela’s gay awakening, doomed yuri, unspoken feelings, not proofread. read in light! / wc: 3OOO+ / ( masterlist )

daniela avanzini wasn’t one for commitment, everyone and their mothers knew this. she was the hit and run type girl, when she gets her fill, she moves on to the next.

some say it’s because she’s protecting her heart, whilst others just say it “as it is.”

”daniela? don’t get involved with her, she’s not good news.” “did you hear about that avanzini girl? she hooked up with someone at stella’s party.” “i feel so bad for her friends, imagine having to have to hear about your friend’s business like that 24/7.”

daniela never paid any mind to those people though. always keeping her chin high, her confidence never faltering no matter what rumors began circulating.

there daniela was, walking into the cafe to get something to eat before she had to run back to the campus for her next lecture, her gaze flickered to the menu, thinking silently about which one she should get before she heard a familiar voice call out to her.

“dani, c’mere,” manon called, waving from the booth she and a couple of their acquaintances were sitting at. daniela gave a small wave before taking a seat next to manon.

“you guys came here to eat too, huh?” she said with a small laugh to which the girls gave their own yeah’s to. “you should know it by now, this is like our personal hangout spot.” lara said.

avanzini nodded, sneaking a glance or two at the menu once more before realizing there was an unfamiliar face sitting at the booth with them.

the latina leaned in to whisper to manon, “who’s that?” she said, referring to the girl who was sharing a slice of cake with sophia.

manon perked, realizing daniela hadn’t met the girl yet. “y/n,” the swiss called. “yeah?” ‘y/n’ replied.

“dani, this is y/n, and y/n, this is dani. i forgot you two’ve never met.” lara let out a small ‘oh right’ as her and manon let out a shared laugh.

y/n met eyes with daniela, her gaze unreadable and if daniela was being honest, she felt a bit intimidated. that was until the girl gave her a small smile. “so you’re dani?” the latina nodded, tucking some of her blonde hair behind her ear. “uh, yeah,”

the girl nodded her head before saying, “you’re really pretty.” daniela had heard those words before, almost more times than she’s heard the word ‘the’ but for some reason this time it made her feel different.

different in a good way? a bad way? dani wasn’t sure, she just sure, all she knew the feeling came felt foreign.

“stop flirting and give me the fork.” sophia broke the ice, making the girls chuckle, all except daniela who just gave a short, halfhearted laugh. “sorry, sorry, here.” y/n said, handing over the utensil as sophia finished the slice of cake

“oh, guys, avantika’s hosting a party on on saturday,” lara mentioned, making the girls perk up. “shit, really?” megan said with a small groan. “i’ve got a project to do,” “just finish it before saturday.” manon pointed out before taking another sip of her drink.

”is yunjin gonna be there?” sophia asked to which lara nodded her head to. the girls’ chatter tuned out for daniela though as she watched y/n’s side profile, seeing the way the corner of her eyes crinkled slightly as she smiled or laughed, or the way her lips curved into a grin every time she made a snarky remark.

“dani..”

“earth to dani,”

“avanzini!”

the girl finally snapped back to reality as she gave her friends a confused still someone dazed look. “huh, what?” manon gave her a small playful side eye before asking. “are you going?”

“to where?” “avantika’s party? this saturday? hello dani were you not listening?” sophia said to which lara jumped onto her words. “what’s got your head in the clouds? is it someone, hmm?” she said with a shit eating grin. “who’s the lucky guy this time?”

avanzini scoffed, brushing off their words before megan perched on. “or girl, ya never know.” “okay guys c’mon, i’m not.. i’m not into girls, y’know that.” manon shrugged, putting her drink down. “never say never, avanzini.”

the girls had begun leaving, sophia and manon had gone off to go pick up yoonchae from the mall together before attending their next lecture as well as megan and lara, leaving only the latina and y/n together.

daniela was retouching her lip liner, she using the small hand mirror lara had given her when they went to sephora together when y/n spoke. “so,”

she met the girl’s gaze before letting out a small halfhearted chuckle at the girl’s attempt to seemingly break the ice. “.. so,”

“you going on saturday?”

“uh, not sure,”

y/n tilted her head slightly as she finished gathering her things. “mm, i think you should go.” daniela looked at her with an arched brow, somewhat confused yet at the same time.. intrigued(?) “yeah? why do you say that?”

she shrugged in response, a small smile curled on the corners of her lips. “i heard that daniela avanzini knew how to get parties going, and i’d love to see it real time.” daniela knew y/n was probably joking or that she only meant it in a friendly way, though for some reason she felt warm, unusually warm.

“uh, i’ll think about it.” she said to which y/n just nodded. “alright then. see you around, blondie.”

blondie

“yeah, see you around..” daniela’s words fell on dead ears as the girl was already walking out the cafe’s doors.

later that night, daniela found herself in bed, scrolling aimlessly when she received a notification from their groupchat.

unknown contact has been added to “AND IM GONNA SERVE EXACTLY WHAT YOU ARE.. CUNTT”.

daniela

lara the diva

Y/N BABYY HIII

d1 hater. (manon)

Y/N HIII

unknown contact

hi :)

yoonchips

HI UNNIE

unknown contact

hi chippie hruu

daniela watched the entire interaction go down, realizing that everyone in their group was already well acquainted with the girl— well everyone but her.

“lara the diva”

daniela

lara

lara the diva

yeah?

daniela

how’d you guys meet

lara the diva

y/n?

daniela

yeah

lara the diva

oh we were grouped together for a project and then we started hanging out

and apparently manon and her were already close

daniela

ohh

what are they like together or

lara the diva

i have no clue but they’re giving off real couple vibes iykwim

daniela

oh cute

lara the diva

yeahh

SAY HI TO HER ALL YOU SENT WAS A QUESTION MARK

daniela

alright damn😒

daniela though instead of doing as lara said, instead went into y/n’s direct messages, deciding that maybe it’d be easier to talk to her there than their group chat where her texts could get ignored and or flooded.

daniela

hey

y/n right?

unknown contact

hihii yes it is :)

who’s this?

sorry i don’t have your number saved

daniela

it’s alright, it’s dani

y/n

ah alright

did u need anything?

daniela

not rlly, just wanted to say hi

cldve said it in the groupchat but i’m p sure the chats already flooding with a bunch of stuff😭

y/n

LMAO

thats fair

they are lowkey flooding the chat

daniela

yeah theyre like thatt

what just started as having to have to say hi to the girl due to lara telling her to, daniela found herself genuinely enjoying talking to y/n. the two had come to realize that they had a few more shared interests than they’d initially thought.

daniela

you fw carti??

y/n

yeah??

why do u sound so suprised

daniela

i don’t know😭 just didn’t take u for the type to listen to him

y/n

yeah lol i get that a lot

wait

daniela

y/n

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7h6517EvzJkGHug?si=luvavanziniJgYff=hNIpOgTkjhghU_D

daniela

lmao whats that for?

y/n

collab playlist

wanna see how compatible our music tastes are

daniela paused for a moment, pondering if she should continue to entertain the girl or to go to bed. in the end, she chose the former, not seeing anything wrong in sharing a little playlist with her newfound friend.

track one.

sorrows - brent faiyaz (added by touch)

daniela

touch? who names their spotify profile ‘touch’?😭

y/n

lol

add something dummy

daniela

alright, damn

so impatient

track two.

NO.9 - playboi carti (added by dani)

daniela

better?

y/n

it’s alright

daniela

dude whatt

y/n

calm down blondie

im just joking

good song

daniela

tell me something i don’t know

the night wore on and daniela’s body began slipping, her eyes grew heavy as she struggled to continue typing on her phone. she hadn’t even realized how late it was getting, they’d started talking at nine and it was already nearing two.

she set her phone aside, leaving it on her bedside table to charge as she laid her head down on her pillow.

avanzini spent a couple minutes just staring at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling with each breath she took as she replayed their conversation.

it didn’t feel awkward or tense like how it did earlier at the cafe, and it didn’t feel forced either. usually daniela would find herself trying to conform to how the other talks, to fit their image of what friendly was just so she didn’t look like a bitch.

but with y/n, she didn’t have to do any of that— no, she was allowed to be as dry, sarcastic, and snarky as she wanted, and y/n would just give back the same energy.

“.. you’re not that bad,” she muttered into the quiet space that was her room before finally drifting off to sleep.

daniela and y/n would only ever see each other around campus every now and then since she wasn’t granted the luxury of sharing a class, it was just small interactions— a glance, quick greetings, a smile, and sometimes they’d stop by just to share some small talk.

it wasn’t anything extravagant, but it was something. familiar, domestic almost.

the latina found herself in the campus library, a place she’d grown to love as it gave her the space to just rewind and enjoy one of the hundreds of books she’d had on her read list.

she was placed in one of the desks tucked away in the corner, hidden by bookshelves as she lost herself in the writing.

It was peaceful, keyword: was. she heard murmuring not too far from where she was, it was expected of course, people would talk no matter where they were— but then she heard a voice that sounded familiar.

“you’re talking to avanzini?” said a student in a tone that sounded almost like disbelief. “yeah..? is that a problem?” that voice, undeniably y/n’s followed.

daniela wasn’t one to pry, not even when gossip involved her— but for some reason, she found herself putting down her book and leaning in a bit, her curiosity piqued and a small sense of what seemed to be nervousness filled her chest.

another voice came to speak, trying to keep it hushed but failing, miserably. “just be careful with her, she’s not.. she’s bad news,” y/n replied with a small faint hum, as if taking in their words. “what makes you say that?”

“well, i mean,” one of the two girls seemed to fumble over their words. usually, when people would tell them to stay out of daniela’s way, they’d do so without even having asking why. but y/n, y/n was persistent, curious.

“just— just stay away from her, for your sake. you don’t wanna end up being one of her toys.”

daniela fought the small scoff that threatened to leave her lips as she combed her fingers through her hair. she was waiting for the girl to give in, to agree and say something bad about her since, well, that’s how it usually went.

but instead, she heard: “that’s kind of stupid, don’t you think? we’re in college, not high school. why should you, or anyone care about what she does?”

then there was silence, just a beat too long before y/n sighed. “.. i’ll see you two around,” she said before seemingly leaving.

the two shared a couple whispers and scoffs, talking about how they ‘tried warning her’ before also taking their leave.

the latina stood there for what felt like eternity, processing what she heard as she leaned against the book shelves. then, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

new track added to ‘emmène-moi’ ・ 3m ago

track three.

Angel - Kali Uchi (added by touch)

daniela kept her notifications on spotify on just in case any artist that she liked dropped new music, she never knew someone could get notifications from playlist updates.

“angel, huh?” she muttered quietly to herself, a small unknowing smile curling at her lips.

daniela

angel?

y/n

it’s a banger

daniela

all of kali’s songs are bangers

y/n

touché

new track added to ‘emmène-moi’ ・ just now

track four.

Heart Of A Woman - Summer Walker (added by dani)

y/n

dudeee i love summer walker

daniela

you’re talking like a jock lmao

it suits you

y/n

alright brochacho whatever you say✌️

daniela

LMAOO

day after day, the two would take turns adding one song into the playlist, and with each day that passed— saturday came closer, and so did they.

“AND IM GONNA SERVE EXACTLY WHAT YOU ARE.. CUNTT”

lara the diva

saturdays tomorrow

we’re all going right

RIGHT?

d1 hater. (manon)

HELL YEAHHH

she was a girl in the village (sophia)

i’m literally planning my outfit rn

y/n

you could pull up in a trash bag and you’d still look good

she was a girl in the village (sophia)

don’t start something you can’t finish, l/n

d1 hater. (manon)

BACK OFF?

yoonchips

have fun guys💔💔✌️

megamind megan

yoonchae do ure math homework🫵😹

yoonchips

ur*

megamind megan

ok bro.

lara the diva

@.daniela ARE YOU GOING

PLEASE DANI PLEASEEEE

daniela

idk

she was a girl in the village (sophia)

BUT DANI💔

d1 hater. (manon)

it’s gonna be boring without youuuu

y/n

yeah blondie, you should go

daniela

😐

megamind megan

LETS FUCKING GOOOO

she was a girl in the village (sophia)

LANGUAGE?? YOONCHAES HERE.

megamind megan

whoopsie my bsd coach

daniela let out a small sigh, putting her phone down and turning to look at her closet, the door slightly perched open as she thought about what to wear. something safe? risky? comfortable? tomboyish? feminine?

she got up, looking through her clothes, some new and some she’s worn more times than she could count. in the end, she settled on a cropped tank that had the word ‘raw’ printed on it and one of her many low rise jeans.

it was simple, but she made it work. what she was wearing never needed to be flashy when being daniela avanzini was what attracted the crowd.

she opened her phone, not to send a text to anyone, but to check her and y/n’s spotify playlist. it’d become a habit at this point, she’d wait for the girl to add a song before adding her own.

it was like they’re own little thing, a silent way of communicating what the other was feeling without directly saying it.

or maybe it was just two friends sharing one playlist.

daniela shook her head and scrolled through the tracks, her eyes scanning the screen as she checked the date and times they were added.

new track added to ‘emmène-moi’ ・ just now

track nine.

5 MO’ MINUTES - Noah Guy (added by touch)

avanzini grinned to herself, she wasn’t sure why but just looking at all the songs the two had collected and put together made her feel good.

y/n’s taste that was both unique and familiar felt like a breath of fresh air, a sigh of relief that she didn’t even know she was holding.

if daniela was being honest, she was starting to take a liking to the girl. not the kind of like that came with her other girl friends, not the kind that had her wanting to pounce— it was the kind that made her breath hitch, the kind that had her eyes softening with each feature she took in, the kind that made her heart beat just a tad bit faster.

it was weird, she’d never felt this way about anyone— cancelling out the crushes she used to have in middle school. she always told herself she wasn’t into girls, and maybe it was true to some extent, she couldn’t deny the pull she felt from y/n.

“.. what are you doing, dani.” she said to herself with a dry chuckle as she flopped back down onto her bed.

what was she doing? breaking? falling? unraveling? —most likely all three.

she forced those thoughts aside. she wasn’t about to stay in place, in her damn room, in an outfit she has planned for tomorrow, while thinking about a girl who was probably already with manon.

she was daniela avanzini for crying out loud— she was supposed to be fire, confident, and sharp.

this was just a quick moment of weakness, nothing more, nothing less.

every girl has had possible homoerotic thoughts about their gal pals, right? right??

come saturday night. Megan had insisted on picking everyone up which sophia was quite adamant about. muttering quiet prayers that they wouldn’t end up crashed into some random tree or a ditch.

“this was such a bad idea.” sophia said, her words were followed by a quick grunt as she felt someone’s elbow hit her side— perhaps intentionally, perhaps not, we’ll never know.

“tell me about it, I feel like a piece of tuna in a can.” Lara grumbled to which Megan responded by taking one hand off of the wheel and holding it up. “I’m literally saving all of you $12 and a possibly creepy driver.”

sophia rolled her eyes at that to which y/n gave a sarcastic response. “Oh, thank you megan, what would we ever do without you and your excellent driving.”

the hawaiian girl’s snapped towards the back to look at y/n for a moment, her expression feigning hurt. “is that sarcasm? and here I thought we were getting somewhere.”

“EYES ON THE ROAD.” Sophia screeched, making manon laugh. thank gods she was seated in the front.

Daniela had been awfully quiet, perhaps because she was zoning out, or maybe she was thinking about who she’ll talk to first when they, or maybe it was because she couldn’t help but feel every brush of y/n’s arm against her.

“dani,” manon called. “you good? you’re being very weirdly quiet.” daniela snapped out of whatever trance she seemed to be in to scoff. “I’m trying to keep myself from throwing up— if we take another U-turn i’m actually gonna vomit.”

“mama you own a sports car.” manon pointed out. “yeah, and i actually drive it well.”

megan was grumbling, her hold onto the steering wheel was growing tighter, looking more like arthur than anything actually threatening. “you could’ve taken your little sports car to the party, y’know.” she said with a huff.

that was true, they had asked the girl if she was sure she didn’t wanna just take her own vehicle to the party but she insisted that it’d be better if they all arrived together, which was definitely a first.

“just keep driving, meiyokie.”

After another 10-ish minutes of megan experiencing road rage, manon and lara shoving it in sophia’s face that she couldn’t drink the soda at the party because she had a play up and coming— they finally arrived to avantika’s house.

”everyone OUT.”

“girl the doors are still locked.”

“whoops.”

it seemed like the people inside already started without them as the second they entered their gazes landed on a guy doing a keg stand.

megan wasted no time as she ran to the guy, joining the small crowd that formed whilst yelling the word “CHUG” like a mantra.

sophia went after her, wanting to make sure megan didn't go trying to do one herself. Lara found avantika in no time, she bid the other girls bye for now as the two chatted about whatever matters were currently going on.

that left manon, daniela, and y/n.

daniela tried excusing herself but manon was quick to link their arms, talking about how she wanted to abandon her or something.

No, daniela avanzini just didn’t wanna be the resident third wheel for tonight.

drinks were consumed, lights were flickering like it was a fucking club, and sophia was singing bring me to life— something daniela never thought she’d live long enough to see, or hear.

y/n and manon were chatting idly, drinks in hand whilst the swiss woman never let up her hold on daniela’s arm.

“YO WE’RE PLAYING SPIN THE BOTTLE” some random guy that didn’t even look like he went to their campus yelled.

Manon gave daniela a knowing look then at y/n before dragging the both of them to the forming circle.

Lara was already there and seated next to avantika, sophia was at the opposite of some guy named alex, and megan was with adela.

sophia had went first after a gentle nudge— it was peer pressure and it landed on alex. she gave him a quick smile before taking a shot. ouch.

turn after turn and daniela was starting to feel somewhat at ease. Then, it was y/n’s turn.

the bottle spun for what felt like eternity, and for some reason avanzini’s heart was racing fast. like the flash forgetting to defrost the chicken and he heard his mom pulling up fast.

then, it slowed.

landing not on her, but to the girl next to her.

manon.

y/n smiled, small yet amused. “alright, c’mere gorgeous.” manon said with a come hither motion. the two shared a kiss, intimate, slow, and sweet.

and for some reason the sight of it made daniela feel queasy.

guess lara wasn’t lying about them being close.

the game continued for almost an hour or so before daniela excused herself.

gods, this wasn’t it. why was she so affected by that? so what if manon and y/n were together— if anything she should be happy for them.

her best friend had found someone that was on her level, someone who could match her— possibly even be labeled as her soulmate.

but she wasn’t.

gods knew she wasn’t.

it didn’t take long before daniela ended up calling it a night.

odd, she went home before sophia.

y/n tried asking her if she was okay before she reached the door to which dani only replied with a quiet, “yeah. just tired, that's all.” before she went out and got in the cab she’d called.

her hand found her phone, airpods already in as she clicked on spotify and hit shuffle. “track 10” by charlie xcx.

wow. thank you spotify, how fitting.

she nibbled on her lower lip, her fingers hesitating for a few moments before she clicked on their shared playlist.

new track added to ‘emmène-moi’ ・ just now

track ten.

track ten - charlie xcx (added by dani)

settings, ‘leave collaboration?’, confirm.

she’ll blame it on y/n— blame the love that perhaps never even existed, but it was easier than facing the reality that she did in fact feel something for her.

easier than facing the fact that those feelings would mean nothing now. she wasn’t hers, she was never going to be hers.

�� ✿֔ᮬ ( 𝑛𝑖𝑘𝑖 𝘵𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑠 ) 𖹭 was supposed to post this during pride month but i got writers block WHOOPSSS

#katseye #katseye x reader #katseye imagines #daniela x reader #daniela avanzini x reader #katseye x female reader #daniela x female reader #wlw #fanfic #imagine #angst #daniela avanzini #megan skiendiel #lara raj #manon bannerman #jeong yoonchae #sophia laforteza #d.a.

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