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rosachae · 3 days ago

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safe | karina x reader

⁍ song: hold on, we're going home - drake ⁍ genre: idol!karina x idol!reader. angsty, suggestive. ⁍ w.c: 14.3k ⁍ warnings: curt language, a little bit nsfw(?), more so just suggestive. ⁍ synopsis:

y/n is the 6th member of le sserafim, and an incredibly skilled dancer. when she's set to perform a special stage with karina, she finds herself growing closer to the girl in ways she'd have never imagined. the problem is, sometimes things don't work out the way you want them to.

current day

there were plenty of pretty people in the world, each carrying their own charm, but none of them compared to yu jimin. there was something about the way she carried herself that made everything else fade into the background. it wasn’t just her face, though that alone could turn heads with little effort. it was the way her expression shifted when she listened, the way her eyes held a quiet confidence that made you want to look longer. her beauty didn’t scream for attention. it settled into the room like it belonged there, like it had always been there. from the moment you saw her, you felt it, this quiet certainty that no one else would ever measure up. not because she tried to be more than anyone, but because she simply was. every small gesture, every glance, every word seemed to land with a weight that lingered longer than it should have. you didn’t even try to convince yourself otherwise. no one could rival her. not for you.

if you’d have asked your childhood self where you’d be in your twenties, you never in a million years would have expected this.

your knee bounced up and down, restless against the pleated fabric of the le sserafim dorm couch. across from you, chaewon watched in silence, her stare steady and unreadable. it wasn’t disappointment. it wasn’t frustration. it wasn’t pity either. whatever it was sat heavy between the two of you, stretching out the quiet until it felt suffocating. she stood with her arms crossed over her chest, unmoving behind the coffee table, her lips pressed into a thin line as if holding back words she didn’t want to say yet. her voice cut through the stillness, sharp and persistent.

"when did it all start?"

the question echoed inside your head like a bell that refused to stop ringing. you knew exactly what she meant, but the weight sitting in your chest made it impossible to speak the truth. shame curled in your stomach, anchoring you to the couch.

"i don’t know what you’re talking about." you lied, eyes darting anywhere but at her. the words came out dry and sharp, like something sour you had no choice but to swallow.

chaewon shook her head, a quiet sigh slipping past her lips before she finally stepped around the coffee table and lowered herself onto the couch beside you. with the distance gone, you had no choice but to meet her eyes. her face was drawn tight with concern, but beneath it was something softer, something like confusion that she couldn’t quite mask. she didn’t let up.

"y/n, don’t play stupid with me now. why are you so reluctant to talk to me?" her voice dropped, softer this time, almost unsure. "when have i ever made you feel like you can’t?"

the vulnerability in her voice was all it took for everything to finally crack open. the frustration that had been building inside you surged forward, breaking free as sobs shook through your body. you lurched forward and felt her arms wrap tightly around you, pulling you into the safety of her shoulder. you cried harder than you had in years, not since you were fourteen and your parents sat you down to tell you your beloved pet was gone. but this sadness was different. it felt like grief that hollowed you out, like something inside you had splintered and left you struggling to hold the pieces together. part of you was thankful the dorm was empty, the other members busy preparing for the upcoming ‘different’ comeback. you weren’t sure you could handle their quiet concern or the weight of their sympathetic stares.

"i’m sorry, chae," you mumbled through your sobs, your arms tightening around her waist as if afraid to let go.

"hey, no, no, why are you apologizing to me?" chaewon’s brows pulled together in concern, her voice soft and steady as she instinctively began to rock you back and forth. her hand found the small of your back, drawing slow, soothing circles, trying to ease the tremors still rolling through your body.

"i made a mistake," you choked out, barely louder than a whisper. the words clung to your throat like they didn’t want to leave, heavy and sharp, weighed down by the shame you could no longer suppress.

chaewon’s arms tightened around you, anchoring you to her warmth. she didn’t say anything right away, giving you space to breathe, to find your footing. when she finally spoke, her voice was even softer than before.

“talk to me," she coaxed, patient and careful, like she was afraid to push too hard but needed you to know she was right there, ready to catch whatever you couldn’t hold on to anymore.

you took a deep breath, letting it rattle through your lungs as you tried to gather the courage. the words sat heavy in your chest, but there was no turning back now. finally, you spoke.

“it started when we met.”

past

the energy backstage hummed like a slow building current, thick with hairspray, heat, and the collective nerves of idols pacing polished floors in their stage outfits. someone from the sound crew was yelling into a walkie, his voice half swallowed by the bass leaking from the main stage monitors. across the corridor, makeup artists huddled near mirrors, adjusting stray strands and patting down foreheads, while stylists crouched on the floor, arms filled with lint rollers and spare in-ears. you were standing with the rest of le sserafim near the waiting area, makeup carved sharp to match the mood of the performance and a dark brown trench coat tight around your frame to combat the arena's cold conditioned air. you were set to go on after txt and just before illit, the kind of lineup that kept your stomach in knots no matter how many stages you’d done.

no matter how many times you’d been here before, performing in front of fans at music bank, the nerves never seemed to completely fray.

you’d rehearsed ‘hot’ until your joints felt fused with muscle memory, the choreography living in your spine even when the music wasn’t playing. still, the thought of the audience made your breath catch in the back of your throat. fans, seniors, label staff, cameras broadcasting to god knows how many countries. it was so numbingly daunting. especially considering it was your first performance back from a hiatus.

chaewon was beside you, quietly mouthing the chorus under her breath, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket like she was trying to keep every last ounce of warmth close. kazuha stood a little apart from the group, leaning against the wall with one heel pressed to the baseboard, head tilted like she was listening to something no one else could hear. yunjin adjusted her belt with a short sigh, chewing at the inside of her cheek. eunchae held her water bottle like a lifeline, wide-eyed as she stared at the screen above the hallway showing the live feed from inside the venue.

you stayed still. part of you wanted to stretch again, or check your reflection in one of the handheld mirrors scattered across the benches, but your body didn’t move. the adrenaline had started to creep in already, making your pulse feel a beat too fast under your skin.

chaewon leaned in just slightly, her shoulder brushing yours as she glanced down the hallway.

“you okay?” she asked under her breath, voice low enough to disappear under the buzz of staff calls and monitor feedback. she didn’t look at you directly when she said it, but you could feel her watching anyway.

you nodded once, too fast to be convincing. “yeah. just cold.”

she huffed a soft laugh, barely audible. “you always say that when you're about to freak out.”

you cracked a smile, or tried to. your face didn’t quite cooperate.

“how’s your leg?” she added, quieter now.

you shifted your weight subtly, the movement instinctive. it didn’t hurt, not exactly. not anymore. not in the way it did when you first fell wrong during rehearsal, when the whole room had gone sideways with pain and panic, or in the weeks after when even watching the others practice felt like swallowing glass. but you still felt it, like a ghost in the muscle.

“it’s fine,” you said. “tight. but fine.”

chaewon finally looked at you then, head tilting the slightest bit. “don’t push it.”

you nodded again, this time slower. “i won’t.”

the injury had pulled you off the last cycle of promotions, and even though everyone was supportive, there was a quiet pressure in your chest that hadn't gone away. something about being away too long, about having to prove you still belonged here. you’d come back in time for end-of-year rehearsals, cleared for stage just weeks ago, and every performance since had felt like walking on a wire.

chaewon’s hand brushed yours for a second, nothing more than a touch, and then she stepped back into place as the call came through the earpieces.

“le sserafim, standby.”

you felt your body move before your brain could catch up, following the rest of the group toward the stage entrance. only, before you could step too far, you’re stopped at the feeling of a lean body knocking into you. your shoulder jerked slightly from the contact, slightly dazed. it wasn’t hard. more of a fleeting bump, the kind that happened constantly backstage with too many bodies moving through tight hallways. still, something about it snapped you out of your thoughts like cold water poured down the back of your neck.

“sorry,” came a voice, low and smooth, so casual it almost didn’t register.

you turned, expecting a rushed bow from a staff member or maybe one of the rookie groups shuffling into their next camera queue. instead, your gaze landed on her.

not framed by a screen. not softened by filters or distant from across a press conference room. she was right there, close enough that you could make out every detail. her presence hit you before your brain even had time to register it properly.

karina. there was something absurd about seeing her in person. she wasn’t supposed to look like that up close. flawless skin, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, that slight smirk playing on her lips like she knew exactly what kind of effect she had. you’d seen her before, who hadn’t? her pretty face was almost everywhere you looked. but this was different.

her outfit clung to her like it was built around her frame. the black crop top, bold with white lettering, sat sharp above her waist. her camouflage jacket hung from her shoulders in a way that looked effortless but deliberate, like it was meant to fall just so. she wore a belt low on her hips, her entire look edged in something that felt like danger wrapped in gloss. gold hoops caught the light as she turned slightly, and the chain around her neck only made the entire picture feel more untouchable. her makeup was heavy but immaculate. smoky eyes that gave her an almost feline sharpness, lips painted in a soft gradient that contrasted the fierceness of everything else. her hair was loose and wild in the best way, falling in soft waves that framed her face with a kind of studied mess. and her face—god, her face. she looked like a portrait. so symmetrical it almost hurt to look at her for too long. so composed it made you forget how to stand.

her eyes flicked toward you, cool and unreadable, and in that moment it felt like the world around you fell silent. the chaos of backstage, the pounding of your own pulse, even the call in your earpiece faded into nothing.

you didn’t mean to stare, but the moment stretched longer than it should have. your gaze locked onto her as if your body had forgotten how to look away.

“it’s– karina– i’m– you’re—” you stuttered, the words tangling before they even left your mouth, your brain scrambling to catch up with what was happening.

you weren’t the type to get rattled. years in the industry had taught you how to keep your expression measured, how to stay centered even under the weight of bright lights and louder voices. you’d stood beside artists who had ruled charts before you’d even auditioned, and still managed to hold your ground. but there was something different about this– about her. she didn’t feel like just another idol.

karina tilted her head, just slightly, like she was watching a familiar reaction play out for the hundredth time. the look on her face wasn’t smug, but it was clear she knew exactly what effect her presence had.

she took a small step back, almost unnoticeable, and let the light from the stage hallway catch the side of her face. it brought out the shimmer along her temple, the warm gleam of her earrings, the perfect stillness of someone who didn’t need to say much to own the space around her. her smile curved, a subtle upward tilt that said she wasn’t surprised by your reaction in the slightest.

“i know who you are, too,” she said, voice low but steady, with none of the awkwardness you were currently drowning in. “you’re the one coming back from hiatus, right?”

you blinked, caught between confusion and disbelief. “wha–?”

“you’re hard to forget,” she said, her tone steady, neither flirtatious nor performative. there was no pause for effect, no expectation in her eyes. it was just something she believed, something she thought you should know. “it’s good to see you again.”

she didn’t linger, didn’t wait to see how you’d react. her voice had already landed, leaving you to stand in the echo of it.

her manager approached from the side, moving with the kind of quiet urgency that only came from years of shepherding someone through back hallways and call times. they said something under their breath, too low to make out, and karina nodded in response, already shifting forward. the moment ended as easily as it had begun, her silhouette gliding back into the tide of backstage traffic, the space where she’d stood still warm in your memory.

you hadn’t even noticed you’d stopped breathing until your lungs drew in sharp, like surfacing after too long underwater.

“hey,” chaewon said softly, reappearing at your side, her hand wrapping around your wrist with a gentleness that steadied you. “you good?”

you nodded, slower this time, like your body had finally caught up to itself.

“yeah,” you swallowed. “i’m good.”

the voice in your in-ear sounded again, a warning you were running out of time. chaewon practically dragged you up the stairs leading to the main stage. the bass from the opening bars was already humming through the soles of your boots, the kind of low thrum you felt more than heard.

you took a breath and stepped forward, coat shifting around your frame as you moved into position. but even as the adrenaline surged, even as you slipped back into the choreography that had been burned into your bones, one thing refused to quiet.

the place where her shoulder brushed yours still tingled beneath your coat, like her presence had branded itself into your skin.

no matter how sharp your lines were on stage, no matter how many cameras found your face, the imprint of her gaze clung to the back of your mind like it had nowhere else to be.

the practice room was quiet except for the low hum of the heater in the corner, a steady, almost soothing sound against the silence. you sat cross-legged on the floor, your hands resting loosely on your knees, absentmindedly stretching your fingers and wrists while your mind drifted somewhere else entirely. two full days had passed since the performance, but karina’s presence refused to fade. it kept replaying in your mind, like a song stuck on repeat, subtle but impossible to ignore.

her face slipped into your thoughts at odd moments. when you were tying your shoes, when you caught your reflection in the mirror, even during quiet moments when nothing was demanding your attention. it wasn’t just the fact that she was famous, or how every detail of her appearance was sharp and flawless under those unforgiving stage lights. it was something deeper than that. you could still hear the tone of her voice, calm and steady, without any hint of performance or pretense. the way she spoke to you was simple and straightforward, but it carried a weight that suggested she meant every word. her certainty had caught you off guard, and you couldn’t stop replaying it in your mind. it was strange how something so small could linger like this, how the memory of her had settled quietly inside you, pulling at your thoughts in a way you hadn’t expected.

you found yourself replaying the moment she brushed past you backstage, how her shoulder had lightly touched yours for just a second, but it left a strange warmth that lingered longer than it should have. even now, you could almost feel it, like a quiet spark beneath your skin.

chaewon settled against the mirror, her back resting lightly on the cool glass as she glanced your way from the corner of her eye. there was a quiet patience in her gaze, like she was giving you space but still keeping track of you. across the room, yunjin was half sprawled on the floor like she’d been poured there. she looped a hair tie around her fingers with the slow boredom of someone who was pretending she wasn’t waiting for a cue to speak. the silence hung for another beat before she cracked it open.

"so," yunjin said, twirling the elastic. "are we just gonna sit here breathing at each other like a lofi-girl youtube live stream?"

"don’t encourage her," chaewon replied under her breath, a habitual comment whenever the younger girl would stir the pot.

"i’m just saying," yunjin went on, ignoring the warning like she always did, "if i wanted to watch two people avoid talking, i’d go back to my last situationship."

you didn’t say anything. you weren’t even sure what mood you were in. just the dull ache of overstimulation and not knowing what to do with yourself. practice had ended, no one was filming, and you were just left with too much of your own brain.

“you’ve been kind of quiet lately,” chaewon said softly, ignoring yunjin’s comments with a subtle eye roll as she turned her full attention your way, curiosity embedded in her soft gaze. “everything okay?”

you forced a small smile, trying to sound casual. “yeah, just tired i guess. being back on stage, it’s a lot.”

yunjin nodded. “we get it. it’s a lot for all of us sometimes.”

chaewon gave you a look that said she wasn’t convinced. “you’re not telling us everything.”

you hesitated, the weight of keeping your thoughts to yourself pressing down. “it’s nothing. just nerves. i’m still getting used to stuff again.”

chaewon’s eyes narrowed just slightly, but she didn’t press. instead, she leaned her head back against the mirror, watching you like she was waiting for the right moment to push a little further. yunjin stayed quiet for once, her usual teasing energy simmering down as the room settled into a softer, quieter kind of tension. it wasn’t uncomfortable, but it felt fragile.

you shifted your weight, letting your fingers fidget against the fabric of your sweatpants. the truth sat heavy in your chest, but you weren’t sure how to shape it into words that didn’t sound ridiculous. how could you explain that it wasn’t the comeback, or the pressure, or even the exhaustion that had you tangled up like this. it was one moment, one person, one look that kept resurfacing no matter how many times you tried to push it aside.

“you know,” yunjin finally said, her voice lighter now, as if trying to ease the edge of the silence, “it’s okay to admit when something’s got you in your head. we’ve all been there.”

"or someone," chaewon added softly, like she was testing the waters, her eyes still fixed on you, steady and patient.

your stomach twisted, the words clawing at your throat. you stared down at your hands, thumbs pressing into each other in a nervous rhythm. the name hovered at the edge of your tongue, ready to tumble out before you could stop it. you hated how easily she occupied your mind, how quickly her name wanted to surface.

only, before you could say anything, the sharp click of the practice room door opening cut through the moment. you all turned as your manager stepped inside, his head poking through the doorway, eyes scanning the room before landing squarely on you.

"y/n. company meeting."

"now?" your voice came out confused, your brows pulling together. no one had mentioned any meeting to you.

"yes. let’s get moving," he said with a quick nod, already stepping back into the hallway, expecting you to follow.

you rose to your feet automatically, your body moving before your brain had the chance to catch up. behind you, you could feel chaewon and yunjin exchanging glances, their confused stares following you as you trailed after your manager and disappeared down the corridor.

every time you opened your mouth to ask your manager what the meeting was for, something held you back. maybe it was the way he walked ahead without looking back, or the tension in his shoulders that made you think twice. the words sat heavy on your tongue, but never quite made it out. you told yourself you’d ask at the elevator, then in the hallway, then right before the door. but each time the moment slipped past.

by the time you finally worked up the courage to speak, you were already standing outside the meeting room. the door loomed in front of you, quiet and familiar. you had been in that room more times than you could count, but something about it felt different now. the lights inside were already on, shadows shifting through the frosted glass, and your heart began to thud with a dull, uneasy rhythm. inside were the other managers, already seated and waiting. at the forefront of them was a familiar face, sumin. his eyes met yours the moment you stepped through the door, a small smile tugging at his lips.

his face was weathered in a way that spoke of long nights and too many years in the industry. though still young by most standards, he was clearly older than your own manager, who barely looked past his twenties. sumin had to be in his mid-thirties, if not a little older. there was something steady about him, something that made the room feel more serious the moment he looked your way.

he was already seated when you walked in, scrolling through something on his tablet, a half drunk coffee sweating on the table beside him. you barely had time to sit before he spoke.

“we’ve been reached out to,” he said, tapping once on the screen without looking up. “sm wants you to participate in a special stage.”

your brows lifted slightly, but you didn’t say anything right away. special stages came up all the time, especially with award season approaching. sometimes it was a group number, sometimes backup for a bigger act. but rarely did the spotlight land on you, and definitely not like this.

you settled in slowly, your voice cautious. “okay... what kind of stage?”

he tapped the screen once more before finally lifting his gaze to meet yours. his expression was calm, but there was something unreadable in his eyes, something that made your stomach tighten just a little.

“they want a duet with karina from aespa.”

you blinked. the name settles over you like a quiet shift in atmosphere, not loud or dramatic, but enough to stop your thoughts in their tracks for just a moment. karina. the same girl who had been circling your mind without pause for the past two days, refusing to leave no matter how many times you tried to shake her off. you could still see her face clearly in your memory, almost annoyingly so. delicate features sharpened by confidence, eyes that held your gaze a little too long, and lips that moved with a softness that made everything she said feel like it was meant only for you.

“me and karina?” you asked, trying to keep your tone even. “just us?”

he nodded once. “just the two of you. high profile. one performance only.”

you sat back in your chair, the weight of it starting to settle. it wasn’t just any special stage. it was the kind people talked about before and after. clips that trended. gifs that never stopped circulating. and now, for some reason, they wanted you in it.

“the team said you match well, in contrast and intensity. they want a dance stage, so there won’t be any singing. something dark and gritty.” he paused, then added, “they asked for you, specifically.”

you stared at the floor for a second. your reflection blinked back at you from the mirror wall. tired, slightly hollowed out from the week’s rehearsals. not someone who seemed particularly suited for a ‘concept-heavy duet.’

but still, you said “okay.”

he didn’t look surprised. just gave a short nod and went back to his tablet.

you weren’t sure what you’d just agreed to. not really. but her name echoed in the back of your mind like a half-formed thought you couldn’t shake.

current day

“it started then? y/n, it’s been months.” chaewon’s voice was soft but edged with disbelief, like she was trying to process the weight of what you were finally admitting.

you exhaled, your fingers curling into the fabric of your sleeves. “yeah. time flew by, i guess.”

she shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving yours. “when did everything get complicated?”

you paused, searching for the words, feeling your chest tighten with the memory. “after a few practices together. i don’t know exactly when. it wasn’t one moment. things just... shifted.”

chaewon arched a brow, her arms folding across her chest as she leaned in a little closer. “things don’t just shift without a reason. run me through it. from the beginning.”

you nodded, your throat dry as the scenes unfolded in your mind. “it was awkward at first. not in a bad way, just... careful. we were both professional. polite. she was warm, but reserved, like she was holding back a version of herself until she figured me out. and i was trying not to read into anything.”

chaewon’s gaze softened, but she stayed silent, letting you keep going.

“the first few rehearsals were strictly business. we went through the choreography, fixed timing, adjusted spacing. every move was so precise, so close. i kept thinking about how close we had to get for some of those lifts, how her hands felt steady on my waist, how her breath would catch for just a second after a hard set.”

you swallowed, the words catching a little as you spoke them out loud. “and then little things started happening. small stuff. she'd linger after practice to chat. offer to go over a part one more time even when we didn’t need to. she’d compliment me, not in a forced way, but like she genuinely meant it. and every time, it got a little harder to stay neutral.”

chaewon hummed under her breath, her expression unreadable now.

“sometimes i’d catch her looking at me when we weren’t even dancing. like she was studying me. like she was waiting for me to say something first. and i kept pretending not to notice because i didn’t want to ruin whatever... whatever was building.”

you trailed off for a moment, the weight of it thick in the air.

“and eventually it wasn’t just practice anymore. we started texting. we’d stay late to talk. sometimes she’d show up early just to see me before anyone else got there. i tried to convince myself it was just friendship, but every time she smiled at me like that, i felt it. like my chest would tighten and i’d forget how to breathe for a second.”

chaewon let out a quiet sigh. “so you let yourself fall.”

you looked at her, the vulnerability raw in your voice. “i didn’t even realize i was falling until it was too late.”

past

anticipation buzzed through hybe the moment word spread that you would be performing with karina. the excitement was immediate. you, arguably the strongest dancer in le sserafim, maybe even one of the most skilled female dancers in the entire company, set to share the stage with the industry’s untouchable ace. karina wasn’t just popular. she was the kind of idol other idols admired, the one who turned heads without trying, who carried a presence that seemed almost unfair. her reputation spoke for itself. an idol’s idol.

“that’s so exciting!” eunchae practically bounced up and down when you got back to the dorm after sumin informed you of the stage. she clasped her hands together and grinned widely.

and it was exciting. even through the nerves crackling under your skin like static, you couldn’t deny the rush of it. the thought of seeing karina’s pretty face again, of spending real time together, stirred something light and breathless in your chest. maybe you’d become friends. maybe you’d exchange numbers, share advice, trade stories only idols understood. maybe, if you were lucky, this wouldn’t be the last time you worked together.

if only you’d known at the time that you’d be getting more than you bargained for.

the practice room smelled faintly of pine cleaner and sweat, the kind of lived-in scent that clung to wood floors and mirrored walls no matter how many times they scrubbed it down. it was your first time ever stepping foot into the sm building. the room was practically filled to the brim already with choreographers as you pushed the door open slowly, half expecting to be alone.

karina was already there, too.

she stood near the center, arms crossed loosely over her chest as she watched her own reflection, quietly shifting her weight from one foot to the other. her cropped hoodie clung just above the waistband of her track pants, rising slightly every time she moved. her hair was down, the strands falling past her shoulders in a way that looked entirely accidental but probably wasn’t. a familiar choreographer stood on her side, regailing information off a clipboard held firmly in her hands. but through it all, the noise and chatter, karina’s eyes glanced up at you through the mirror when you entered.

maybe you imagined it in your daze, starstruck by her sharp eyes and pretty lips, but you could’ve sworn her eyes lit up when they landed on you. it felt almost cinematic. like a slow motion scene in real time where your breath knocked clean from your lungs. only, before you could sit in the moment a second longer, the choreographer followed karina’s gaze and turned to face you. you recognised her.

“oh, y/n!” lee yejin bowed ninety degrees, clipboard tugging under her armpit.

you bowed back, relief coursing through you. truth be told, in a space as unfamiliar as this sm building, you were happy to see a familiar face. yejin was one of the choreographers to work with you on ‘hot’, a kind and creative woman you got along with through the entire comeback process. something told you this was your managers doing.

the corners of your lips quirked up into a small smile. “yejin.”

“it’s so good to see you again! i’m so excited to work with you both. so, we have a vision here, and i think it’s going to be absolutely groundbreaking. if there’s anything you-“

yejin’s voice fell on deaf ears. you nodded along with her words, blips of them registering when you needed to give half measured ‘yes’ or ‘no’s’. but your attention kept drifting off to the girl behind her.

you watch her stretch in silence. her movements were clean, intentional, grounded. there was a stillness to her that made you feel like any sudden motion might shatter something delicate. if only you noticed that she was sparing you glances, too. that you were both stealing glances when you thought the other wasn’t looking.

yejin clapped her hands once, snapping your attention back. “okay! before we get started, let’s officially introduce you two.”

you blinked, suddenly aware of how fast your pulse was thudding in your ears. as if you didn’t already know who was standing in front of you.

“y/n, this is karina. karina, this is y/n,” yejin said with a bright smile, like the formality wasn’t a little ridiculous.

karina turned fully to face you now, her expression softening into something warmer. “it’s really nice to meet you properly,” she said, voice even, steady, but with a gentle edge of sincerity that landed heavier than it should have.

you dipped into a short bow, your hands clasped politely in front of you. “nice to meet you, too. i’ve… heard a lot about you.”

“same,” she replied, and there was the faintest hint of something playful behind her eyes. “looking forward to working together.”

her gaze lingered a second longer than it needed to, holding you there. you tried not to read into it, but your skin prickled anyway.

“alright!” yejin said, cutting the tension before it could swell. “let’s walk through the choreography. we’ve got a rough draft set, but i want to see how you both move together before we finalize spacing and transitions.”

the word together hung in your head as you followed yejin to the center of the room. karina moved alongside you, close but not too close, and for a brief second, your shoulders nearly brushed.

you couldn’t help but wonder if she noticed the space narrowing, too.

they pressed play. take me to mars poured into the room, the bass low and deliberate, crawling across the floor like something alive. your bodies moved in sync, mirrored but not matching, each beat pulling you closer. the choreography was sharp but sensual, built on tension. every step narrowed the space between you, like an invisible thread pulling tighter with each count.

yejin and the other choreographers moved fluidly around you, watching with practiced eyes. you could feel their gazes tracking your frames, adjusting angles in real time, but none of it seemed to reach you fully. your focus stayed locked on the girl across from you.

karina danced with a kind of contained energy, every movement precise but loose, like she was barely holding back a stronger current beneath the surface. her gaze flicked up every few counts, meeting yours in quick flashes before dropping back into the steps. it made your stomach flip every time. the first contact came fast. on the turn of the next eight count, your arms swept into an intertwined movement, palms grazing as your bodies shifted past each other. the warmth of her skin against yours was brief, but enough to spike your pulse. her fingertips brushed yours like she was reading you, testing the weight of the space between you.

your breath hitched, but you didn’t miss a beat. if she felt it too, she didn’t show it. her face stayed composed, but her eyes flicked to yours again, just for a second. a glance that didn’t need words.

when the moment came, the one where your hand hovered near her waist, where your face came just shy of touching, you felt it. the falter. it was barely anything. a pause no longer than a breath, but enough to notice. her fingers hesitated before landing on your collarbone, a little too soft, a little too late.

after a few run-throughs, yejin clapped once. “that’s good for today. we’ll refine the arm transitions next time. don’t overthink it. the more you do it, the more natural it’ll feel.” they scribbled something onto the clipboard, glanced between the two of you, and added, “great work, both of you.”

then the choreographers, lead by yejin left, pulling the studio door shut behind them with a soft click.

the silence that followed was almost jarring. no music. no directions. just the sound of your own breathing, fast and uneven, as the adrenaline started to fade. karina was still standing at center, arms back at her sides now, her expression unreadable.

you let the quiet stretch a little longer, both of you standing there in the center of the studio, caught in something that didn’t quite have a name yet. after a moment you took a slow step toward her, pulling the words from the space between you like they’d been hanging there the whole time.

“so,” you finally say, your voice soft but steady, “what do you think about all this? the choreography, the concept... everything?”

karina lets out a slow breath, her eyes flicking down briefly before returning to you. “it’s different,” she admits. “i wasn’t sure at first. it feels raw, kind of vulnerable. but i like that. it’s honest.”

“did i make you uncomfortable?”

her eyes widened slightly, like she hadn’t expected the question to be so direct. she opened her mouth, then closed it again. finally, she let out a breath, not quite a sigh.

“no,” she said, shaking her head. “not really.”

you tilted yours, not buying it. “but something was off. i could feel it.”

she looked down for a second, her fingers brushing against the hem of her hoodie. “it’s just…” she paused, her voice quiet. “i didn’t expect to be doing a choreo like this with a girl.”

you nodded slowly, letting the honesty settle between you. “yeah. me neither.”

karina glanced up again, meeting your gaze for the first time since the song ended. her voice stayed soft. “i thought it would feel different.”

“and did it?” you asked.

she hesitated. “yeah. but not in a bad way. just… surprising.”

karina shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her arms folding loosely across her chest. she looked over at you, her expression curious but careful, as if she was testing the waters, trying to figure out how much to say and how much to hold back.

you swallow, feeling the weight of her gaze as it lingers on you, steady and unreadable. the air between you shifts, growing dense with something unspoken, something just beneath the surface. it hums quietly, tension curling around the edges of the moment like smoke. after a pause that stretches longer than it should, karina finally speaks, her voice low, almost hesitant.

"do you want to run through it again? just us this time."

you nod, maybe too quickly, grateful for the excuse to move, to shake off the stillness pressing against your skin. the room suddenly feels different. quieter. more private. the kind of quiet that makes your heartbeat sound too loud in your own ears. without the others, without the eyes and voices and pressure, the space closes in. not suffocating, but intimate. familiar in a way that makes you uneasy and excited at once.

karina steps to the side and taps the speaker. the low, deliberate pulse of the bass rolls out across the floor like a slow wave. you both move into position, muscle memory taking over. the choreography returns easily, but now it carries a different weight. a sharper edge. it’s not just movement anymore. it’s something else.

there’s no one to count the beats. no one to correct your lines. just your body and hers, responding to rhythm and instinct. to each other. every movement is charged. every glance feels like a question. every brush of her fingers sends heat crawling beneath your skin. the air vibrates with it. something electric, something fragile.

your eyes lock again, mid turn, and you realize there’s a conversation unfolding between you with no need for words. it lives in every shift, every breath, every mirrored motion. your bodies speak in silences, in touches that last just a second too long, in the way she watches you like she’s waiting for something. at first, it was just about the routine. the shape of the steps. the mechanics. but now, something else threads through it. you move when she moves, catch her rhythm without needing to think. you dip when she dips. you spin when she spins. her fingers graze your waist, trail along your jaw, and even though she doesn’t say a word, it’s all there. unspoken but loud.

"you learn fast," she murmurs, her gaze flicking toward the mirror, not quite meeting yours.

"so do you," you reply, but your voice is softer now. like you’re both trying not to break whatever this is. whatever it might become.

the moment passed, but something in it stayed with you, clinging to your skin like static. it wasn’t loud or obvious, but it pulsed quietly beneath the surface, impossible to ignore. later that night, as your manager drove you back to the dorm, the city lights blurring past the window, your thoughts refused to settle. they circled around one thing. or rather, one person. karina.

you kept replaying it all in your head. the way her body moved, precise and fluid, like every beat was something she was born to feel. the way she looked at you during that final run, eyes locked, unreadable and intense. it had made your chest tighten, your breath catch, like your body had picked up on something your mind couldn’t yet name.

you told yourself it was the routine. the high of dancing well. the natural chemistry that comes with hours of practice. but even as you stared out the window, pretending to listen to whatever song your manager had playing, you knew that explanation wasn’t enough. it wasn’t just the steps. it wasn’t just muscle memory or partnership.

something about her had shifted something in you. and now, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shift it back.

before you knew it, several sessions had come and gone. each one bled into the next until time stopped feeling separate from movement. you grew attuned to her, how her body flowed with the rhythm, how she anticipated changes in tempo before they even landed. instinctively, you adjusted your own movements to match, to compliment her lines with your own. and she did the same. without words, you learned each other’s timing, each other’s weight and pace, until it all clicked into something seamless. but it wasn’t just your bodies falling into sync. somewhere in between the stretches, the water breaks, and the long hours under dim studio lights, you started learning the smaller things too. how she liked her coffee, the songs she played when no one else was around, the way her laugh softened when she was tired. she asked questions that lingered in your mind long after practice ended, listened closely when you answered.

you learned that she hated the cold but always carried a hoodie in her bag, just in case. that she cracked her knuckles when she was thinking too hard, and that she danced even when there was no music playing. she told you about the time she sprained her ankle during a middle school performance and still finished the routine with tears in her eyes and a smile plastered on her face. in return, you told her things you didn’t usually say out loud. how you got stage fright right before every show, how you used to practice in your bedroom with the door locked and the lights off.

you fell into rhythm, not just with the music but with her. the choreography smoothed out, every transition clean, every beat hit with intention. there were still details to polish, still corrections and notes, but you could feel it coming together. the routine lived in your limbs now, familiar and natural, like muscle memory laced with electricity. not quite stage-ready, but close. so close you could taste it.

today was the fifth session. the bass echoed low through the studio floor, reverberating up your spine as the track looped for the third time. you exhaled, rolling your shoulders back as you caught your breath. sweat clung to your skin, strands of hair sticking to your neck. you were tired. just yesterday you were singing and dancing across the stage at mcountdown performing ‘hot’, running between shoots and interviews, and just narrowly making it on time for a company dinner. today, you wanted nothing more than to collapse on the cold floor.

across from you, karina stood with her hands on her hips, chest rising and falling in sync with the beat still playing from the speakers. her expression was unreadable.

“again?” you asked, grabbing your water bottle off the ledge beneath the mirror.

“mm,” she nodded, wiping the side of her neck with a towel. “you were a little early on that last transition.”

you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “i think that was you.”

karina’s mouth twitched, something dangerously close to a smile ghosting over her lips. but she didn’t argue. instead, she walked toward the speaker to restart the track, her silhouette backlit by the soft overhead light. the air in the studio was warm and thick with the scent of sweat, fabric softener, and whatever expensive perfume she always wore that clung to the inside of your lungs.

you moved back into position, eyes meeting hers in the mirror.

“from the chorus?” she asked.

“yeah.”

the music swelled, and you both dropped into motion. each step, each beat, choreographed to bring you closer. your movements mirrored one another, bodies shifting with practiced ease. but the closer you got, the harder it was to ignore the electricity simmering just beneath the surface. it had been building all week. maybe longer. the brush of her arm when she passed too close. the way her gaze lingered too long when you weren’t looking. the deliberate softness in her voice when she said your name.

karina stepped into you for the partner moment, hands on your hips, her body sliding just barely against yours. her touch was firm, professional. but her breath hitched. just for a second, and her hands stayed there too long. you held her gaze in the mirror.

“your count’s off,” she said, but her voice was lower now, less sure.

“no, it’s not.”

only silence followed when the music ended, fading into static and stillness. you didn’t move and neither did she. your reflection looked back at you. two figures standing too close, eyes locked, tension drawn taut between you like a wire about to snap.

karina stepped back a half inch, but it was pointless. the charge in the air didn’t go anywhere.

“why do you keep looking at me like that?” you asked, voice calmly measured.

she blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. her pretty features twisted up into a small confused frown. “like what?”

“like you’re trying not to.”

her expression cracked, just slightly. she sighed, shaking her head dismissively. “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

karina didn’t answer. her eyes were on your mouth now, flicking back and forth between your collarbone and eyes like she was searching for an out to the conversation. lowe and behold, she found one.

“we should go again,” she said finally, retreating behind something safe and professional as she hit play on the record for the nth time that session.

only when the music started, she didn’t move right away. she stepped behind you instead. slowly, deliberately. her hands found your waist like muscle memory.

“fix your posture,” she said, but her voice was hoarse now.

your stomach tightened.

she stood close, so close you could feel the rise and fall of her breath brushing softly against your neck, just beneath your ear. the air between you was thin, heavy. her chest, warm and steady, pressed lightly into your back, and your body tensed without meaning to. the contrast was jarring. her hands were cold, fingertips like little jolts of static as they slid down your sides, slow and deliberate.

goosebumps bloomed in her wake, a shiver chasing the trail she left behind. she didn’t rush. her fingers paused at your waist, then tightened, just enough for you to feel her there, claiming that space. her breath hitched. maybe yours did too.

the room felt suddenly smaller, the silence stretched and loaded with everything neither of you was saying. the weight of her touch, the heat of her body, the sharp sting of her cold hands. it all sank into your skin like a question waiting to be answered.

you watched her through the mirror, the way she studied you with that same quiet intensity she always wore. eyes dark, lips drawn into a firm line, her expression unreadable. she didn’t blink much. just let her gaze roam over you, slow and deliberate, like she was cataloguing every inch.

you weren’t naive. you knew she didn’t need to touch you like this. she didn’t need to correct your stance, there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. she especially didn’t need to do it with both hands. not this slowly. she knew it, too. that knowledge hung between you like a thread, neither of you acknowledging it but both of you feeling the weight of it in every careful motion, every inch of space that no longer existed.

she touched you carefully, as if the wrong move would have you crumbling in her grip. her touch was cautious, curious.

karina wasn’t sure what it was about you that made her so confused. every carefully crafted belief she had was tested the very minute you stumbled into her life. every religious idea embedded into her mind, every self deprecative whisper that told her she was wrong for finding beauty in another woman. with your waist between her hands, your body reacting, your stomach clenching taut and your head tilting slightly so her breath hit your neck— she decided then and there that you were like a drug.

she tried to tell herself to step away, she really did. she tried to push her attraction to you into the deepest depths of her mind, forced herself to think about the allure she found in tall men like jaewook with coy smiles and handsome features. each and every time, she failed. the intoxication smell of your perfume permeated her senses. the intoxicating way your breath hitched when her right hand drifted up from your hip, nails lightly grazing your back beneath your shirt, lived in her mind like a memory she would never be able to shake. everything about you, she craved. no amount of gospel would ever equal the way she knew she’d commit to you like you were holy.

whatever guilt she felt in that fleeting moment immediately evaporated when her body reacted on instinct. karina gently turned you around so you were facing her, closed in between her arms. the second you were face to face, she suddenly pushed you against the mirror she ogled you down through only seconds before. a quiet gasp slipped past your lips when your back met the cold surface, but it was her eyes that undid you.

“this is wrong,” karina whispered, her voice low and wrecked, almost like she was pleading with herself more than with you. her hands still rested at your waist, but there was a tremble in them now, like she was on the edge of something she wasn’t sure she should fall into.

your eyes searched hers, the reflection of the two of you in the mirror blurring behind her. you didn’t look away. “does it feel wrong?” you asked, barely above a breath. your tone wasn’t challenging. it was gentle, honest, like you were offering her a lifeline instead of an excuse.

she blinked, slow, as if the question hit something deep in her. her jaw clenched, the war playing out across her face in full view. “i don’t know what i’m doing,” she admitted, and it cracked something open in you.

“then stop thinking,” you said, voice soft but certain, and that was all it took.

karina surged forward, her mouth crashing into yours with a desperation that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. it wasn’t tentative. it wasn’t careful. her kiss was messy, searing, the kind that stole the breath from your lungs and left no room for second thoughts. her hands slid up your sides, fingers curling under the hem of your shirt, clutching like she needed to ground herself in your skin.

you kissed her back just as hungrily, your hands finding her jaw, her hair, anything you could hold on to. there was heat everywhere. between you, around you, pulsing through every inch of your bodies as they pressed together. your back arched slightly against the mirror, the cold glass a sharp contrast to the fever in your blood.

karina groaned softly into your mouth, her fingers digging in just a little deeper, her lips parting like she wanted to drink you in, like she didn’t know how to stop now that she’d started.

whatever guilt she thought she’d feel was drowned beneath the tide of want, swept away by the way you kissed her like you’d been waiting for this moment just as long. her mouth trailed from your lips to your jaw, then your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses that left your skin burning.

“tell me to stop,” she whispered against your throat, breath hot and shaky.

you didn’t. you tilted your head back and pulled her closer. her fingers curled against your waist, possessive, desperate, like she thought you might disappear.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” she breathed, the words so quiet you barely caught them, but the weight of them slammed into you like a wave.

her voice was raw, frayed at the edges, like the feeling had clawed its way out of her chest. she pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark and blown wide with something far past want. it was too much, too fast, and not nearly enough.

“i think about you all the time,” she continued, barely pausing for air. “when i shouldn’t. when i’m alone. when i’m with other people. and i hate it. i hate that i want you like this.”

you stared at her, stunned by the intensity pouring out of her like it couldn’t be stopped, like she’d cracked open and spilled everything she was too scared to say until now.

“but i do,” she whispered. “god, i do. and right now, i don’t think i can pretend i don’t.”

she trailed kisses down your throat again, each one slower than the last, lips parting just enough to taste. her hands traveled with her mouth. up your sides, around your ribs. not quite touching, but close enough to make your breath catch.

“you drive me crazy,” she murmured, lips barely grazing your collarbone. “i’ve tried so hard not to want this.”

“then don’t try,” you whispered back, voice trembling.

that was all the encouragement she needed. she tugged your shirt over your head in one fluid motion, eyes devouring you like she couldn’t believe you were real. her touch followed, fingertips dragging down your torso, lingering in reverent, slow passes like she wasn’t in a hurry. like she wanted this to last.

you reached for her, fingers sliding beneath her hoodie, needing to feel her just as bare, just as close. her skin was warm, soft under your touch, muscles tense as if holding back. she helped you pull her top off, and suddenly you were chest to chest, skin to skin, heat rolling off her in waves.

her mouth was back on yours in an instant, hands framing your face now, like you were something delicate, something sacred. she kissed you like prayer, like apology, like surrender.

nothing had ever felt more like heaven than it did coming apart in karina’s arms.

current day

at some point, the others came home. you heard them before you saw them. shoes kicked off by the door, the rustle of jackets, the low hum of familiar voices echoing down the hall. normally, you would have greeted them, maybe even joined in on the quiet chaos of winding down after a long day. but tonight, you stayed curled on the couch, chaewon’s arm around your shoulders, your body still trembling in the aftermath of everything that had come undone.

they paused in the entryway. you could feel the weight of their curiosity before they even stepped into the room. yunjin was the first to cross the threshold, all teasing grin and raised brows. until she saw your face. the moment she caught sight of your tear-streaked cheeks and red eyes, the expression melted off her like ice in warm water. all that was left was quiet concern. her mouth opened, like she was about to ask something, but sakura shot her a warning look sharp enough to cut glass.

whatever question was on yunjin’s tongue died instantly.

the rest of the girls lingered for only a moment. kazuha gave you a gentle nod, eunchae hovered like she wanted to come closer but didn’t know if she should, and then, one by one, they dispersed down the hallway without a word. no one asked. no one pried. not yet.

the silence they left behind felt heavier than the noise.

chaewon didn’t speak right away. her arm was still around you, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder, grounding you. the silence stretched for a few moments more, just long enough to make you wonder if she was waiting for you to say something first. but then, quietly, she broke it.

“do they know?” her voice was soft, but steady.

you shook your head. “no. just you.”

chaewon nodded slowly, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face with a kind of gentle care that made your throat tighten.

“do you… want them to?” she asked.

you hesitated, staring at the space where the others had just been. your voice came out small. “i don’t know.”

chaewon’s brows pulled together. not judgmental, just thoughtful. “you don’t have to tell them. not if you’re not ready. but you can’t keep letting this eat you alive.”

“i thought i could handle it,” you whispered, blinking hard. “i thought keeping it quiet was the right thing.”

“maybe it was. at first,” she said gently. “but things change.”

you nodded, eyes burning again. “i didn’t think it would get this far.”

chaewon leaned back a little so she could see you better, her expression quiet but fierce in its protectiveness. “y/n… are you in love with her?”

the question knocked the breath from your lungs. you didn’t answer right away. you couldn’t. but she saw the way your jaw clenched, the way your eyes dropped, the way silence folded in around you again.

chaewon let the silence settle again, but only for a breath. she looked at you closely, the kind of look that felt like it could see past your skin, straight into the mess you were trying to hide. her voice was quiet when she asked, but there was no mistaking the weight behind the question.

“when did things start to go south?”

your lips parted, but nothing came out at first. your fingers curled tightly into the hem of your sleeve, knuckles pale. you weren’t sure which moment to name. when the first lie slipped from your mouth? when she started pulling away? when you realized her idea of safety didn’t include you?

“i think…” you started, swallowing hard, “i think it was always heading this way. but i didn’t want to see it.”

chaewon’s gaze didn’t waver. “tell me.”

you took a deep breath.

past

you knew what you were getting into. you truly did. in moments of silence, your mind subconsciously drifts back and forth between all of the stolen moments and the late nights where you felt like you were the center of her world. but of course, you remember her warning. a warning laced in sweetness and compassion, but one that you should’ve known would keep her from ever truly being yours; wholly and completely.

you swallow when you remember a particular time in one of the many hotel rooms of daegu. she’d just snuck in with her face mask pulled up over her mouth, but still you were rocked by her beauty. you don’t think you could ever truly get used to the absurdity of how gorgeous she was.

the minute you let karina in and shut the door firm behind her, she practically raced to take you into her arms. discarding her face mask haphazardly, she pulled you in close and towards the bed. she wanted so badly to be close to you that it physically hurt her. she pushed her face into your neck as she held you tight, her breath warm against your neck, her nose cold from the trekk she’d made through the cold hotel elevators. but you didn’t mind. not when she held you like you were the one and only thing she needed.

her fingers traced idle patterns over the fabric of your sleeve, but you could feel the tension underneath her soft touch. she had been quieter than usual all night, and even now, curled into you like she never wanted to move again, her mind felt far away.

“you okay?” you asked softly.

her hand stilled for a moment. “mm-hm.”

you waited. you knew her well enough to know that when she got quiet like this, it wasn’t nothing. she was trying to find the words, but the words scared her.

“you don’t have to pretend with me,” you whispered, brushing your hand gently through her hair.

another beat of silence. her breath hitched slightly. “it’s not you,” she said finally, her voice barely audible. “you know that, right? it’s never been you.”

“i know,” you whispered, but your chest tightened anyway.

she shifted, sitting up just enough to meet your gaze. her eyes were glassy, wide, full of something heavy she’d been carrying for too long. “it’s just… this isn’t like other places,” she said softly. “it’s korea. you know how it is here. you know what happens.”

you swallowed, nodding. “yeah.”

“it’s not just the fans,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly now, words starting to rush like she was afraid she might lose the courage to say them if she didn’t spill them all at once. “it’s the companies. the sponsors. the media. even my own family. it’s not just about me being happy. it’s about all the people who depend on me. all the people watching. waiting for me to slip. and if this ever got out—” she broke off, biting her lip. “we’ve seen what happens to people here. to idols who don’t fit what they’re supposed to be.”

you reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “i know. i’ve seen it too.”

“they ruin you.” her voice cracked. “the headlines. the rumors. the fake stories. the comments. people get blacklisted, abandoned by their own companies. brands drop them overnight. fans turn on them like they never loved them to begin with. even if it’s not true, even if it’s just speculation, it’s enough to destroy someone’s career. to destroy their life.”

her fingers tightened around yours. “sometimes i think about what they would say. about you. about me. what they would write. how fast it would all unravel.”

you stayed quiet, letting her speak, not wanting to interrupt the dam finally breaking.

“i’ve worked so hard for this,” she whispered. “i’ve built everything on being perfect. being who they want me to be. i know it’s stupid, but i’m scared. i’m scared of losing it all. of losing you, even. if it all fell apart, i don’t know how i would survive it.”

your heart ached. “you wouldn’t lose me,” you said softly. “not ever.”

you meant it. with every fiber of your being, you spoke your words and committed to them like gospel. you knew as well as she did that keeping your situation private was the best for your careers. still, when your mind then drifted between all of the instances it felt like more, the tug in your chest sweltered into a sharp ache.

another hotel room in busan. the room was quiet, wrapped in the kind of stillness that only came late at night, when the world outside slowed down just enough for you to breathe. thin streaks of city lights slipped through the gaps in the heavy curtains, casting faint reflections on the walls. everything felt distant. the traffic below, the cameras, the eyes always watching. here, inside this small bubble, it was just you and her.

the door opened with a gentle click, barely louder than a breath. she slipped inside, her movements careful, deliberate, as if even the air might be listening. the moment her eyes met yours across the dimly lit room, her shoulders relaxed, her entire frame softening as though she had been waiting all day for this exact moment.

you sat on the bed, legs folded beneath you, watching her with a small, involuntary smile pulling at your lips. “hey,” you whispered.

“hi,” she breathed, her voice a quiet exhale as she crossed the room to you. her bag slid from her shoulder, forgotten on the floor as she climbed onto the bed beside you, immediately curling into your side like muscle memory. her head rested against your chest, one arm slung across your waist, her fingers lightly brushing your ribs. the weight of her pressed into you in a way that felt grounding, like you were anchoring her.

your hand found her hair, fingers slipping through the soft strands, tracing lazy paths over her scalp. you felt the tension leaving her body piece by piece with every stroke. she let out a long, quiet sigh, like she had been holding her breath all day and could finally let it go.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in silence, not because there was nothing to say but because neither of you needed words to fill the space. outside these walls, everything was complicated. endless obligations, careful glances, coded answers. but here, where no one could see, it was easy. you could be soft with each other. you could be real.

“i missed you,” she whispered eventually, her voice barely more than a breath against your skin.

your chest ached, the words both sweet and heavy. “i missed you too.”

her fingers traced idle patterns on your side, drawing invisible shapes as her breath slowed. “sometimes i wish i could just stay here,” she said quietly. “never leave. never have to pretend again.”

you kissed the top of her head gently, feeling the familiar sting behind your ribs, the one that always came when you thought too hard about all the ways you had to stay invisible. “me too.”

her voice grew softer, more fragile. “it’s scary, you know. how badly i want this. how badly i want you.”

you held her closer, your hand smoothing down her back in long, soothing strokes. “i know,” you whispered. “i know.”

she exhaled again, and for a few precious seconds, it felt like the world outside didn’t exist. just her breath, warm against your collarbone. just your fingers in her hair. just the steady thrum of both your hearts, tangled up in something that felt impossibly tender, impossibly dangerous, and impossibly good.

you remembered the stolen moments at award shows and group stages, the ones where she would find you between the noise.

the music still throbbed faintly through the walls, distant now, like a heartbeat fading into the background. backstage was a maze of shadows and hurried footsteps, voices calling out instructions as crew members darted back and forth. but for a brief moment, tucked away behind a heavy curtain, there was a pocket of quiet that belonged only to the two of you.

karina slipped through the gap, moving quickly, her eyes darting once over her shoulder before they landed on you. the moment they did, the tension in her shoulders softened, replaced by that familiar look that always made your stomach flutter. like you were gravity, and she was helpless against it.

“there you are,” she whispered, already closing the distance.

her hand reached for yours, fingers slipping between yours with practiced ease. the warmth of her palm sent a tiny spark up your arm. you smiled as she tugged you gently back into the narrow space behind one of the stage drapes where no one could see.

her skin still glowed under the remnants of stage lights, faint glitter clinging to her collarbone and neck, her lips still painted perfectly from earlier. you watched her for a moment, taking in every detail, the adrenaline still humming softly beneath her skin.

“you looked…” you started, but couldn’t find the words fast enough.

her lips curved into a knowing smile. “i know.” she leaned in, voice dropping slightly, playful. “but i want to hear you say it.”

you exhaled a quiet laugh, your free hand sliding up to rest lightly on her waist. “you looked incredible.”

she hummed softly, her body swaying closer to yours, her eyes sparkling under the dim lights. “it’s the outfit, isn’t it?” her voice was teasing, but her gaze dipped to your lips for the briefest second before returning to your eyes. “the way you were looking at me during the performance was very… distracting.”

“was i that obvious?” you whispered.

“completely.” her smile deepened, her fingers tightening around yours. “i could feel your eyes on me the whole time. i liked it.”

the air between you grew warmer, heavier, not uncomfortable but charged in a way that made your breath catch slightly. the press of her body was subtle but deliberate, her fingers brushing lightly over the inside of your wrist, tracing gentle circles like she couldn’t bear to stop touching you.

“you’re really playing with fire,” you murmured, voice low, the smallest edge of teasing creeping into your tone.

“maybe i like playing with fire,” she whispered back, her voice silk-soft but charged. her face was close now, close enough that you could see the faint shimmer on her lips, smell the faint trace of her perfume, feel the ghost of her breath against your mouth. “it’s only dangerous if someone catches us.”

“they’re everywhere,” you breathed, but neither of you made any move to pull apart.

“i know.” she smiled, biting her lip. “but you’re standing so close. you’re making it very hard to behave.”

your hand slid up her waist, fingers splaying gently across the small of her back, drawing her closer until there was barely a sliver of air between your bodies. her breathing quickened just slightly, her eyes never leaving yours, pupils dark and wide.

“then don’t,” you whispered.

for a moment, it felt like the entire world shrank to the space between your mouths. but just before your lips could meet, voices rose from the other side of the curtain, snapping you both back into the reality waiting just beyond this sliver of stolen time.

she laughed quietly, soft and breathless, forehead falling against yours. “one of these days, i’m going to get us into so much trouble.”

you smiled, savoring the warmth of her so close. “i’ll take my chances.”

she squeezed your hand one last time, reluctant but already starting to pull away, her smile still lingering like the echo of a kiss that almost happened. “later,” she promised softly.

and then she was gone again, slipping back into the noise and lights, leaving behind only the memory of her breath on your skin and the electric hum still sparking through your veins.

of course, your mind drifted to those moments. moments where she touched you like you were some kind of delicate scripture she so badly wanted to commit to memory.

her room was quiet, wrapped in the soft glow of a single lamp that pushed back the darkness just enough. the light was warm and low, curling into the corners and leaving gentle shadows in its wake. shoes were scattered by the door, left where they had fallen. her makeup was gone, wiped away to reveal bare skin that caught the dim light and made her look almost unreal. she sat on the edge of the bed, her legs drawn up slightly, wrapped in loose sweatpants and a simple camisole. she looked tired. but she was beautiful in a way that made your chest tighten. beautiful in a way that felt too fragile to name. it made your breath hitch.

you closed the door behind you, the quiet click echoing like a secret between you. neither of you spoke.

she moved first. she stood slowly, her movements smooth but deliberate. she crossed the small space between you with a quiet kind of confidence, stopping just close enough that you could feel the heat of her skin. her eyes lifted to meet yours, wide and searching. there was something raw in them. something she had been holding back.

“does this mean something to you?” her voice was quiet. steady, but careful, like she was afraid of what the answer might be.

you looked at her. you felt the weight of her question settle heavy in your chest. “does it to you?”

her hands rested on your arms, then climbed to your face, then tangled in your hair as her body pressed against yours. the kiss deepened, pulled, turned rough. she backed you into the wall, her breath hot against your neck. you didn’t know how it turned into the bed, or when your shirt came off, only that when her fingers traced the skin above your waistband, you let her.

it was fast and breathless and intense, like everything unspoken between you poured out through touch.

you swallowed, a feeling of bile rising to the back of your throat. some part of you felt almost guilty. you knew the conditions. hell, you may as well have wrote half of them. still, somewhere along the way, the hotel rooms lost their meanings. the pit stops between shows made you feel like more of an afterthought.

you just didn’t expect it to come to a collapse just three days before the special stage during a shared interview.

the studio was too warm, the kind of warmth that made the skin feel tight and the breath shallow, like the air itself was trying to press you down. above, the lights buzzed softly, casting a false glow over everything, as though the moment could be softened by something as simple as studio lighting. between takes, the silence had stretched unnaturally long, not heavy enough to feel like tension to anyone else, but sharp enough that every second vibrated beneath your skin. you hadn’t seen her since that night. not in a way that mattered. not in a way that left you pretending you didn’t still carry her fingerprints on your body.

she entered just before filming began, her arrival quiet but impossible to miss. her hair had been cut, dark waves now framing her face perfectly, falling just below her shoulders in soft, deliberate layers. the light makeup made her features look delicate, almost impossibly so under the brightness of the cameras, and the dark blazer draped over her cropped top hugged her frame with an effortlessness that made your stomach twist. she looked beautiful. too beautiful. like nothing had ever happened, like the late nights and the trembling hands and the whispered confessions had been nothing more than some fever dream you had failed to wake from.

the host’s voice, bright and unrelenting, filled the air almost immediately, eager to direct the scene, to keep things light and marketable. they asked the usual questions, the rehearsed ones, the ones meant to make the viewers at home smile and feel as though they were seeing something candid and sweet. promotions were mentioned, schedules were discussed, jokes about long working hours and friendly banter exchanged. and through all of it, you sat beside her, close enough for your knees to brush, the contact igniting a strange ache inside you, an ache that made you resent your own body for still wanting to be near hers.

the conversation shifted, as you both knew it eventually would, to the dynamic between you. the chemistry. the playful teasing your fans adored. the host grinned widely, their excitement almost palpable as they leaned into the question. "so," they said with a sparkle in their eye, "what’s it like working together? there’s clearly some amazing chemistry here."

karina answered with the ease of someone who had perfected this performance long ago. her smile was flawless, the kind that looked natural to anyone who hadn’t seen the version of her that came apart beneath you. "we clicked quickly," she said, her voice light, her tone effortless, "very professional."

the word professional struck you with a force you hadn’t braced for. as though the stolen glances and secret rendezvous in the quiet hours had been some kind of contract fulfillment. as though the nights where she had whispered your name like a prayer, where you had held her as she cried because she was so afraid of what this all meant, had simply been part of the job. like the trembling in her hands when she first kissed you hadn’t meant anything at all.

and then came the question that you had felt looming in the air, inevitable and cruel in its timing. the host grinned again, voice lilting with playful curiosity. "last question," they said with a theatrical pause, "ideal types?"

karina didn’t hesitate. not even for a moment. her answer was as smooth as it was devastating. "i like someone dependable," she said with a soft laugh that made your skin crawl, "funny, strong. like… a guy who’s confident. someone who knows what he wants."

for a moment, it was like your heart forgot how to beat altogether. you had never expected her to speak your name into this space. you knew better than to think she would take that risk. you hadn’t wanted her to confess you, not here, not like this. but the ease with which she had erased you, the casual way she made you invisible, carved into you with a quiet brutality you hadn’t prepared for.

the host leaned forward, emboldened by her answer. "oh, very specific," they teased. "tall? handsome? does he work in the industry?"

karina’s gaze drifted somewhere distant, not meeting anyone’s eyes as she added, "maybe. someone who can handle the spotlight. someone my parents would approve of. someone stable. safe."

the word safe echoed through your mind, splintering into every corner of your memory. safe. was it safe when she had pulled you into her arms after long days, when her voice broke as she told you she didn’t know how to want you and still fear you at the same time? was it safe when she had whispered that no one had ever made her feel like you did, that she had never wanted anything like she wanted you? was it safe when her body had trembled beneath your hands, when her lips had found yours in the darkness where no one could see? nothing about what you had shared had been safe. it had been terrifying and thrilling and raw, but never safe.

the host chuckled, still completely unaware of the quiet devastation unfolding between you both. "ah, you have high standards! love that."

the noise around you blurred, the studio shrinking into a narrow tunnel of light and heat. your heartbeat pulsed painfully in your ears, the air growing thinner with each breath you tried to take. but she kept smiling, as though her words hadn’t just gutted you in front of the entire world. she smiled because that was what she was trained to do. the perfect answer. the perfect idol. the perfect fiction. the one who could never claim you. not here. not now. and maybe not ever.

the host, still entirely too cheerful, finally turned to you. "and y/n? what about you?"

you smiled. it was slow, deliberate, and held together by sheer will, even though your entire chest felt like it might collapse inward. you could feel her answer hovering in the space between you, still thick in the air, suffocating and heavy. your voice came out steady, but every word scraped against something raw inside you. "i think i like someone who’s not afraid."

the host blinked, leaning forward slightly, as though sensing the shift but unable to comprehend it.

"someone who isn’t scared to claim me," you continued, your voice quieter now but impossible to mistake. "publicly. fully. not just when it’s easy."

the silence that followed was not soft. it was jagged and brutal, cutting through every false smile in the room. you didn’t need to look at her to feel her shift beside you, but you turned anyway. you met her eyes, wide and full of something that looked like panic, or maybe shame, or maybe the sharp realization of what she had just done. she opened her mouth slightly, as though words might come, but nothing did.

the host gave a small, nervous laugh, desperately trying to break the tension that now choked the air. "oh—mysterious! sounds like there’s a story there!"

but you weren’t listening. not to the host. not to anyone. you stared ahead, your gaze fixed somewhere distant beyond the cameras and the lights, beyond the stage where you had been reduced to a secret that no one would ever be allowed to know. your words hovered, irreversible and final, hanging like an open wound between you both. unapologetic. and for the first time, you felt your heart begin to fracture in a way you knew you wouldn’t be able to mend. she was afraid. she had always been afraid. and maybe, no matter how much you had given her, no matter how much you had held her trembling hands in the dark, she always would be.

that wasn’t something you could carry for her anymore.

you felt your heart rip in two.

current day

when you finally finish regaling chaewon with the story, you see it in her face. not right away. she stays quiet at first, her expression still, eyes fixed on some invisible point just past you. the room feels too quiet, like even the air is holding its breath. but then her brows pull in slightly, her mouth presses into a thin line, and her fingers curl tighter where they rest against the fabric of the couch. it’s not anger exactly. it’s something quieter. deeper.

frustration. secondhand hurt. the kind that doesn’t explode, but settles heavy in her chest, in her shoulders, in the way she blinks like she’s trying to process too many things at once. her silence isn’t cold. it’s protective.

“you didn’t deserve that,” she says finally, her voice low and steady, but there’s a sharpness to it now. “any of it.”

you don’t answer right away. there’s a lump in your throat, thick and unmoving. you’re not sure what response would even be fair. you’re not blameless. you knew what you were getting into. still, hearing it out loud, from someone who’s always been a step outside the storm, makes it feel real in a way you weren’t ready for.

“i told myself it was worth it,” you murmur, eyes locked on your hands. “that it didn’t matter if it hurt, as long as it meant something.”

chaewon shakes her head slowly, a breath leaving her like it’s been sitting there too long. “but it did matter. it does. you can’t keep setting yourself on fire just to keep something warm that won’t stay.”

your throat tightens. “i know.”

she shifts beside you, reaching out to gently touch your wrist. her hand is warm. grounding. “you love her,” she says, and it isn’t a question. it’s just the truth, spoken softly enough not to break you.

you nod, eyes burning.

“but love isn’t supposed to feel like this all the time.”

you don’t say anything, because you know she’s right. because deep down, you’ve known it for a while.

chaewon squeezes your wrist, just once. “whatever happens next, you don’t have to go through it alone. even if she’s not there... i am.”

your chest tightens and you nod, afraid that saying anything will split you open. chaewon doesn’t speak. she just stays beside you, quiet and solid, like she’s holding the space steady so you don’t have to. still, your mind drifts.

you think of karina. the way she held you like you were hers, kissed you like it meant something, then acted like none of it ever happened. how she made you feel seen, then vanished into silence. how she smiled through that interview and said she liked confident men, like you weren’t sitting right there.

to make matters worse, you still had to see her again. the special stage was in three days. you ignored your managers calls when you hauled yourself home and into chaewon’s arms, her comfort the only tether you had keeping yourself to reality. truthfully, you didn’t think you could face her again.

still, chaewon held you.

335 notes · View notes

rosachae · 9 days ago

Text

after hours | daniela avanzini

synopsis: daniela had everything in her hands, everything and everyone. and when she saw you, she knew she wanted that too. in fact she needed that. even if you were megan's nerdy sister.

pairing: mean sorority!daniela x loser g!p reader

tags: fluff, humor, smut, partying, frat boys, slight violence, sorority!megan, g!p reader, virgin reader, hand job, blow job, probably more idk...

wc: 9.3k

kehlani - after hours

“five minutes guys!” megan’s trying her best to steady her phone. fingers trying to zoom into her screen (she can’t zoom in on messages). squinting as she reads the text message from you.

you [12:47am]: b there in 5

megalodon [12:49am]: wi ll be Outs8de!

behind megan is a wobbly manon, trying her best to dust leaves off her skirt after falling into a bush. and an even more wobbly daniela trying to steady herself on manon’s shoulder.

“manon, seriously…stop moving…” daniela’s feeling the nausea creep up in her throat. a slight lightheadedness from everything. the liquor, the dancing, the lack of food in her stomach.

“go lay down or something.” manon’s hand misses her leg and she brushes off nothing.

and daniela does just that, falling backwards onto the lawn. trying to calm the spinning in her head. the stars still look like the disco lights from someone’s shitty old 90s basement. back when fluorescent was the cooler light.

although the stars look so pretty tonight, sparkling like diamonds. daniela can barely focus on them. the loud bass from the frat house thumping in daniela’s chest. and her heart rate is still skyrocketing. loud yellings spilling out the creaky windows and beer glasses littered all over the front lawn.

she feels so comfortable on this bed of grass right now.

too bad her head is pounding with a killer headache. and her throat feels dry like sandpaper.

not drinking water the entire night will do that.

daniela made a bet and lost and now her throat is paying the price.

she wants to ask megan if her sister would have water in the car. but seriously, to even pick up her arm would take insane mind-body coordination. she definitely cannot right now.

“manon, get her up please.” megan begs when she sees daniela starfished on delta tau’s front lawn.

“no can do, megalodon…need to get this leaf off of me.” manon’s squinting at her skirt, trying to rub off the green leaves on them.

“sophia’s going to kill me tomorrow.” megan groans at the idea, so much for suggesting a night out. and then the screech of her mom’s station wagon pulls forward.

“hey! over here!” megan shouts, trying to wave you down. but you’ve already parked the car, directly in front of her.

“megan stop yelling! it’s 2 in the morning, the neighbors are sleeping.” manon shouts even louder than megan.

“you stop yelling!”

“no, you stop yelling.” manon shouts even louder. and with enough force of a drunk person, manon tries to swing open the station wagon. only to fall back onto the grass and nearly banging against a garden gnome.

“you cannot be serious.”

“you can’t be serious.” manon’s imitating megan, dropping an octave and doing the best she can not to slur. “well i am, now help me up!”

megan doesn’t know how manon’s body feels like ten sacks of potatoes, pulling her arm only drags the girl’s body forward.

“help me get her up!” megan shouts at you. and really if you weren’t so tired you might’ve started fighting megan right then and there.

so you kill the ignition, run around back to see the unsightly vision of two drunk frat girls laid out on the lawn. you try dragging her only to run into the same problem as megan.

“megan, open the door.” and megan tries her best, nearly missing the handle a couple times before actually opening the door.

and here you are trying to fit megan’s friend into the backseat. nearly pulling a muscle when manon dramatically drops herself onto the seats. already laying down and trying her best to starfish.

you’re a little shocked, megan’s never asked you to pick her up from a frat party before. so now you have to corral three nearly blacked out girls into your mom’s station wagon.

“okay, she’s in, now what.” you ask megan, watching her stare at a girl laid out on the lawn. hands on her hips like she’s coaching a minor league baseball team.

“her.” megan points at the girl.

you rub your temples a bit and then an idea hits you.

“open the trunk for me.” you ask megan and instantly she’s ready to start a verbal spat with you.

“you are not tossing my friend into the trunk like a bag-a bag of…of” megan’s lost in her thoughts, the words not coming to her mind.

“do you see your other friend? she’s taken up the whole backseat.” you point at the girl face flat against the seat. legs hanging down on the floor. she curls into herself a bit.

“alright, fine. but you aren’t tossing her in there.” she tries giving you her best mom stern voice.

it falls short.

you roll your eyes and then you walk towards a very drunk girl.

“hi, please don’t puke on me.” you say quietly but daniela’s eyes slowly turn to you. and all she can say is wow, you have huge glasses. frames that cover much of your face, and damn who is you? because daniela can’t remember the last time she was so stunned by someone’s face card.

suddenly, like a crane she’s being lifted in the air.

strong arms that are supporting her as she watches you walk her towards the car.

very strong arms.

when you look down, daniela’s staring at you, albeit a little creepy. but you’ve definitely peaked her interest.

you strangely look similar to someone she’s grown to be friends with.

megan.

you’re megan’s sister. and somehow you’re even stronger than her.

daniela’s suddenly being laid down, on hard carpet and a jacket propping her head up.

if someone saw you right now, they’d think you’re kidnapping a bunch of sorority girls.

and suddenly your face moves away, far too quick. daniela turns her head trying to watch you, only to be met with the trunk door closing. and then you’re off. trying to keep all three girls inside, before they try to climb out.

“megan, no.” you push her phone away, she’s trying to plug her phone into the stereo.

“gosh, you always do this! no one wants to listen to your music.” megan pulls herself away.

“it’s calming! you know my driving anxiety, megs.” you whine a bit, plugging your phone and turning on your favorite soundtrack.

out through the old speakers played c418 - minecraft music on a soft volume. you pull onto the road with a squeak and definitely below the speed limit.

“blocks. blocks. blocks.” you hear a voice slowly start chanting. manon slowly got her body moving, enough to plant herself into the middle of the car. head smack between you and megan.

“blocks. blocks. blocks.” she chants, each chant louder than the last. and then megan pushes her with her finger, manon immediately falling backwards into the seat.

the continuous rise in noise was bringing sharp pain to daniela’s already fuzzy brain. the sudden decrease was also peaceful.

and soon daniela found herself in a more than confusing dream, one that she would never utter to megan.

‐‐

daniela found herself walking. to where? she didn’t know the answer. but the one thing she did know is that she needed wood. and she needed it soon…

so she began punching a tree, punching a tree? it didn’t make sense but it also made perfect sense she was punching it. because soon enough a block of wood disappeared from the tree. and it was absorbed into her?

daniela stared at herself, trying to find that random block of wood that dropped into her body.

what?

the sun was setting awfully fast, she could practically see the sun dropping.

wait, why was the sun pixelated?

she couldn’t pay that any mind, she needed shelter now. and she did, rushing into a cave and hoping to be safe for the night. she shivers a bit, hearing cave sounds and a growing faint growling sound in the distance.

like zombies… several of theme. the darkness continues to permeate through her, her breathing quickens and her eyes try adjusting to the darkness. when she hears a slithering noise, a hissing of a spider closing in on her. there’s zombies coming into the cave and a spider quickly approaching her from the back.

she’s going to make a break for it, just beg that she makes it out alive. and she runs, right back out into the night. zombies closing in front left and right, their hands lifted out and ready to attack once they get close enough, instead daniela runs, runs for the hills and away from the mobs.

but they seem to continue appearing in the night, in groups and in dark places, so daniela runs for the light, a single torch in the distance that has less monsters around. she slows down to catch her breath when a sudden light approaches her. another human, a torch in hand and flashy blue armor shrouding them. with a jump and a draw of their sword, the human impales a far too close zombie by daniela.

dragging her away with their hands clasped, running towards the torch that was lit on the ground, following the path into what looks to be someone’s home.

“you okay back there?” the voice suddenly asks, checking behind daniela as they continue to run for the house.

“yeah, don’t worry about it, i’m unscathed.” daniela runs with their hands still holding each other, following after the clunky diamond armor.

“good, i was worried.”

worried?

daniela comes to a stop, the stranger almost tripping over themselves, but coming to a stop themselves. turning around to face daniela, warm eyes lit by torches and something more underneath, almost close to affection.

“of course i was worried, i care about you.” the stranger says in a warm tone, trying her best to express her care.

daniela doesn’t know if it’s the adrenaline from running away from the monsters, or the way the armor looks so damn good on this person, but all she can feel is urge, the urge to kiss. an urge to show an appreciation for the saving.

daniela surges forward, pulling the stranger into a kiss, a hot kiss with passion and the stranger kisses back, kissing back daniela like it was the last thing they would do.

you eventually pull into the sorority house driveway, letting out a long exhale. the idea of two of megan’s sorority friends being in your mom’s station wagon made you extremely anxious to drive. you didn’t know what to expect and you didn’t want to drive poorly.

not to mention how manon had repeatedly tried climbing into the front seat with sophia. this was by far one of the more chaotic nights you had.

being pulled out of a nice movie night to drive home drunk girls wasn’t what you were expecting.

megan was happily chewing her quesadilla while manon drank from your baja blast. your baja blast. giving you a sheepish smile when she realized what she had done, setting the electric drink back into your cup holder.

and dani, well poor girl was knocked out. all the adrenaline and alcohol from the night had caught up to her. and in her haze she had forgotten all about being asleep in this girl’s station wagon.

she gets pulled out of her short nap when the trunk opens, and your strong arms are holding her again. lifting her into the air as if she were a feather.

she opened to the sight of you again, still startled by the dream of you in diamond armor, kissing her as if a reward for saving the damsel in distress. and now you were holding her, carrying her into the familiar sorority house?

it was a bit much. a bit too much.

so she pretended to be asleep again, if you were none the wiser then daniela could forget all about her dream and the way your arms hold her without straining, like you could carry her to the ends of the earth.

she hasn’t felt this hot about someone’s biceps…like ever.

and especially not one of her sorority’s siblings. god megan would probably skin her alive if she found out, but not if daniela hid herself from the world first.

even though she’s trying to concentrate on this act, she can recognize that you’re bringing her upstairs towards her bedroom. each step making her heart hammer in her chest. she wants to stay here, in your strong arms. she tries hiding the blush, thinking about anything else, although the scent of you is lingering. with the help of a very drunk manon, who was also struggling to climb the stairs, you set daniela down in her bed. giving her a slight push to get all of her body weight onto the mattress.

and with a small huff you step back, closing the door behind you and daniela’s wide awake. still very aware of your touch and the way your frames covered your face.

daniela goes back to sleep in a couple minutes, mind hazy but sharp enough to fall into a dream about you and her, sitting together in her room.

the next morning she wakes up hot and bothered, a slight discomfort between her legs. she doesn’t try to act on it, because that would be wrong…would it? to rub one out because of her friend’s sister? who she hasn't said a single word too.

yeah, maybe not the best idea.

she instead hops in the shower, hoping to wash off the discomfort but also the persistent thought of you. it helps, just a little but it also brings up something daniela hasn’t realized.

she can’t remember the last time she hooked up with someone. between the sorority events, club events, promoting her business line. life had become a blur, too many parties with frat dudes who couldn’t capture her interest.

damn, it’s really been a while.

and once daniela was finally in a new set of clothes, freshly cleaned from her shower, did she go down into the kitchen. hoping to find something close to a hangover cure. maybe breakfast and an advil.

but before she found those, she saw you again, lounging on the couch watching a silly cartoon with megan. chatting about god knows what, all daniela knew was that her eyes were probably still a bit red, and her headache was pounding.

she slid on a pair of sunglasses, to shield herself from the glaring sunlight but also so you couldn’t tell where she was looking. she had her eyes laser focused on you, watching the way you lazily played with the strings of your hoodie, legs propped up on the coffee table.

you couldn’t help but feel the searing gaze from afar, crossed legged on the barstool and leftovers from the fridge. the drunk girl from last night was eyeing you, even if she thought those shades would conceal her intensity, it definitely didn’t you.

you keep squirming in your seat, trying so hard to shrink away from her. but eventually she plops herself in between you and megan. a small satisfaction settling inside of her when you don’t move away. even if you’re entire body stiffens when she sat down.

you give a poor excuse of needing to water your plants and dashed out to your car, embarrassed of how daniela kept glancing at your pants. red tipped ears and hands that tucked your hoodie down to hide the slight discomfort in your pants.

daniela smiles to herself watching you dash out, oh she was in for a treat.

megan is none the wiser.

‐‐

the next time she sees you is in the campus library, in the basement floor in the corner behind the bookshelves. eyes focused on your laptop. textbook and spiral notebook laid out in your corner.

you have your earbuds in when daniela approaches. lightly tapping your feet and twirling your pen. hoodie that was swallowing your frame. a slight head bob at every beat of the music.

it’s almost cute.

daniela smooths out her skirt, approaching you with her hair flowing in gorgeous curls. she knows she looks good, and she’s going to make sure you’re at her feet by the end of the week.

or so god help her.

she taps you lightly, hoping to strike up a conversation. instead, you jump out of your seat, hands flying everywhere. knocking over the scalding hot cup of coffee directly onto daniela. right before falling backwards in your chair, a loud thud on the carpeted floor. and an even loader groan could be heard from you, head hitting the ground.

you slowly get up, trying your best to get the air back in your lungs when you look up to the person who tapped your shoulder.

“shit!” you exclaim.

the scene unfolds in front of you like a car crash. and daniela’s in even more shock, from the sudden heat on her skirt to the fact that the idiot that she’s been thinking about managed to dump hot coffee all over her outfit.

“shit is correct, that burns you idiot!” daniela shouts back.

you’re glad that no one is on the basement floor of the library. if anyone found that you dumped burning coffee on one of the hottest girls on campus, the sorority vice-president no less, they’d probably skin you for it.

make it a public display too.

“ahh im so sorry, i am so so sorry!” you beg, reaching into your backpack for any napkins you can find to pat her off. to which you attempt to wipe the dripping coffee off her shirt when she grabs the napkins all from your hands.

“don’t touch me!” she wipes off her shirt and skirt gently, glaring at you with anger in her eyes and sharp eyebrows.

you want to shrink into a small ball, armadillo roll away from this. a slight whimper in your voice when she shouts. it hurts more than the throbbing pain in the back of your head.

she notes that before going back to furiously rubbing her shirt off.

“i really am sorry,” you look around nervously again, anxious at the idea that some of her friends might be nearby, ready to push you for your mistake.

“let me buy you a new dress and skirt.” you offer instead, thinking about having to pick up an extra shift or two to cover what looks to be a very expensive outfit. already calculating the hours you’d need to cover the outfit.

“you dimwit, this is vintage jean paul gaultier, you can’t,” she groans a bit, frustrated at the thought you might’ve just destroyed her favorite skirt. “you can’t buy it back for me.”

you cower a bit as she continues glaring at you. she stands a bit taller, chest more forward as you look away. and suddenly it clicks in your head, almost like a bell went off.

oh.

“you’re diana! megan’s friend.” you smile at her, your eyes shiny when the realization hits. almost like a puppy asking for a treat.

she almost wants to not yell at you.

almost.

“it’s not diana, it’s daniela. and yes.”

daniela continues to wipe herself off, eyes rolling at you. and once again you give a sheepish smile, trying to remain quiet and out of her direct line of fire. until she forgoes it all. instead huffing and puffing to the women’s restroom.

you follow after her like a child that broke a vase. head hung a bit low but still pleading for forgiveness.

“listen, i really am sorry, you scared me!” you chase after her when she picks up the pace, speed walking into the restroom. kitten heels that tap lightly against the carpet and then she opens the women’s bathroom.

and just as you’re about to follow her in, she slams the door in front of you.

“don’t follow me in, you idiot!” she holds the door back, enough to keep you at bay. you rub your forehead a bit, the sudden swing of the door knocking into you.

“fuck, megs going to kill me….” you mutter to yourself. silently biting your nails at the sudden silence again, hot shame flashing through your face.

daniela was megan’s friend, and if word got back to her on what you did to her, and how you called her the wrong name. you might never see that station wagon again.

“daniela, i’m really sorry, please let me make it up to you.”

and like the gods were shining on daniela, a devilish grin grew on her face. she stops her cleaning and she swings the door back open. you gasp a bit, stumbling back a bit, knocking into the wall with a thud as daniela walks right into your bubble.

loud, strong, and definitely gorgeous.

you widen your eyes a bit as she fishes for your phone, her long nails sliding into your baggy pants and holding the phone up to your face. unlocking it with ease and opening to your contacts.

good. only megan and your mom.

she types rapidly onto your screen, long nails that sparkle under the library lights and then she picks out her phone. calling her phone and with a satisfied smile. she hands you back your phone.

“don’t call, don’t text, unless i tell you to. you are on standby 24/7. if i call you…do NOT miss my calls.” she says quickly, smoothing out her skirt once more. still stained brown from the coffee.

you gulp a bit, feeling like your phone is a hot potato, burning into your skin like molten lava. you nod at her expectant gaze, it's almost demoralizing how you’ve managed to become the hottest girl’s personal assistant, all because you could easily be spooked.

she shoves her hand out, shaking it a bit, expecting something.

“give me your hoodie, i can’t go out looking like this.” she shakes her hand again, and now you’re hastily ripping off your hoodie, shoving it into her hand.

and with another devilish smile she takes it and wears it around her, covering the giant splotch of coffee and honestly, somehow she pulls off your ridiculous cartoon hoodie.

of course she does, she’s daniela avanzini.

then she walks away quickly, you don’t notice it but daniela smells your hoodie, pleasantly enticed by the scent.

and now you have another contact on your phone. not willingly, but consequentially. you try not to shake at the idea of what daniela will make you do, or how she plans on having you repay her.

you don’t have to worry much further about it, the answer comes to you much sooner than you expected. it comes on the weekend, saturday night when you’re dressed for bed, tucked in and starting to drift off to sleep. you have your noise machine on and your humidifier set to last the whole night.

if not you’d wake up with a bloody nose from the dry air.

the plushies are stacked perfectly in a line against the wall, in size order and all facing you as you roll in your bed. you yawn again, looking up at the ceiling when your phone buzzes. the sound making you jump out of your skin. you look over your night stand, the slight vibration making the phone shake until it nearly falls off the side.

you catch it just in the time, the screen illuminating with the contact name

daniela a.

“oh god, oh god, do i pick up?” the phone continues to ring, even with it vibrating in your hands, and now you were a one woman bomb squad, do you diffuse it by answering or let it explode by not picking up?

and at the last ring, you picked up, immediately the loud noise of people echoed in your bedroom, contrasting the low hum of the white noise machine.

“h-hello, um, daniela?” you utter into the phone, nervously tapping your foot again. grabbing a hold of your fidget toy on your desk, messing with the buttons as the sound of a party continued to flood your room.

then her voice came in.

“you, here now. pick me up now.” her voice was a bit slurred, slower than usual but sharpness wasn’t dulled at all. a reminder that she knew how to command people.

“pick you up? from where?” you continued to press the buttons, clicking them rapidly. when daniela came in the speakers again, sounds of people shouting for a keg could be heard in the back. you tried to calm yourself, worried that you would have to step into that space, with all that noise and people.

a sudden vibration from your phone came in, buzzing against your ear and when you lifted it to check the notification, you found a message of a location.

daniela a has started sharing their location.

“that’s the location, pick me up idiot.”

and then the line went dead. you continue to pace in your room a bit, shifting from one foot to another, gathering your keys and descending out of your dorm. quick steps down the stairs and soon you were in your station wagon, pulling out of the dorm parking with a screech of the brakes and driving towards frat row. light zelda music floating into the car.

there was a drumming in your heart, a reminder that you owed her, you owed daniela what was the equivalent of her jean pat…her jean pat? you couldn’t even remember the name of the skirt, just that it probably cost too many of your paychecks.

and when you pulled up, the loud commotion from having to pick up megan and her friends from that night came flooding back. there were people hanging off the roof of the house, a couple people laid out on an old couch out front. and the thumping bass vibrating against the house.

you shot a quick text to daniela, letting her know that you were outside. and occasionally you glanced into the window, hoping that you wouldn’t have to step into the mess of a loud frat party. the last place on earth you wanted to be. but there were no text bubbles or any calls. you continued to tap against the floor, biting your nails a bit.

she hasn’t texted back, so instead you kill the ignition. pocketing the car keys and walking towards the messy frat house. frat boys shouting chug chug chug could be heard inside the house, and a couple people were in the lawn playing with the sprinklers. you tuck your head down a bit, trying to blend into the crowd as you walk in.

the house was crawling with drunk people, the faint smell of alcohol and sweat permeating the walls, and the house was far too hot, the heat from every single body crowding the house. you try your best to locate daniela, but there’s too many heads. too many people, and you could feel yourself itching a bit. desperate to get out of this godforsaken mess of bodies.

you try your best to push past the first wave of people, moving closer towards the center of the room, and then you spot her. drunk and definitely out of her senses, laughing at something a drunk frat guy was whispering into her ear. lightly swaying under the strobe lights and in her element.

you wonder why she’s called you here. she doesn’t seem like she wants her night to end, but here you are. her supposed ride for the night. and when you finally step into her view, she nearly knocks the guy away, hand removed from his shoulder and slung right onto you. she takes a moment to look at you, curious of your appearance.

those huge chunky glasses and the oversized sweater and minecraft pants weren’t doing you any style favors. but goddamn if you weren’t the hottest person in this whole house. even with your fidget-y stance and trying to stay away from curious eyes.

some people were watching, who was this girl that would approach daniela as if she was their friend. you didn’t look the part either.

a slight flush on her face as she holds her hands around your neck.

“um, daniela?” you try to put some distance between you and her, eyes wide as she tries to move closer to you. pulling you in close as she laid her head onto your shoulder. laying there gently, it almost felt like affection. but in an instant you pull her off you. stilling her as she stumbled a bit.

“what was that you idiot?” she scoffs, feeling a bit hurt by your rejection. here she was hoping to get a kiss from you, or at least a compliment on her outfit, but you looked uncomfortable.

“nothing, i just hate crowded places.” you pull at your sleeves a bit, and daniela took her time to look at you, the shiftiness in your face, the way you keep staring outside. and then she took off, grabbing your hand as she dragged you out the house. a bit drunk and stumbling but she made her way to your station wagon. leaning all her weight against the door, and with a bit of help she fell into her seat, hoping into the driver seat.

she keeps her eyes on you, a fleeting feeling of guilt pulling at her chest, you were supposed to be at her beck, falling in line like the line of suitors that ran out the door. instead, here she was, feeling guilty that she had called you. like somehow she was to blame for your sudden sadness.

she can’t remember the last time she felt guilty about something she had done.

instead she left her hand out for you, hand on the console with a silent waiting, her eyes averted away from you but still, she wanted the acknowledgement.

you slip your hand into hers, almost like you accepted her apology, but not quite. she couldn’t shake the guilty feeling in her heart. instead of talking you pulled off the street, your heart feeling calmer as she squeezed your hand in sets of threes.

quiet but the act was loud. halfway through the ride she turned to you, not a single word was uttered but she stared. stared at how your eyes never left the road, gripping onto the steering wheel like a grandmother.

and somehow she thought you looked hotter. hotter than all those frat guys with their m8’s or their scat packs. she kept looking around and the older interior, well used and probably been around in the family for years.

she can’t explain it to herself or to any of the sorority girls how hot it was that the station wagon had more space in the backseat. and she was going to get you to fuck her in it.

even if the unfortunate minecraft music had to be playing in the background. she would deal with that when it got to that point.

she didn’t notice it but you gave her a smile as you dropped her off. hand immediately reaching to open the door for her. and she stepped out, unstable but able to pull herself towards the sorority house.

she looked less intimidating like this, almost like a friend. you held her waist in case she were to fall. a flush of feelings in your chest when she pulled you close too, leaning into your frame as you opened the sorority house.

megan and manon’s head immediately popping up from the couch. a curious look on both girl’s faces and an even more interesting look from the sorority president, sophia.

“daniela?” sophia walks towards you two. a faint smile when she took daniela from you. a silent thank you for bringing her vice-president back home safely. you give her a nod as she dragged daniela back up stairs. hopefully she’ll go to sleep soon.

“you took daniela home?” megan continues to pop chips in her mouth, curious to this sudden arrangement. you give her a nod and slide onto the couch as well.

“yeah, she asked me to.” you grab a chip from megan’s hand. laughing at the disgust growing on her face.

“how come whenever i ask, i have to pay you 10 bucks.” megan continues crunching up her chips, manon also swooping in to steal some lays originals.

“oh, i owe her, so she called in the favor.” you shrug and megan shrugs too.

fair enough.

you stay over for a while, continuing the cars movie marathon, happily chewing on popcorn when daniela sits next to you suddenly. slightly damp hair and a short tank top with shorts to match.

you freeze up again, trying hard to focus on the movie, but lightning mcqueen was no help. the heat radiating off of the latina next to you was overwhelming, you bounced your leg rhythmically. all in the hopes that the nerves would subside.

and when you drove home that night, you kept thinking about her eyes, gorgeous and intense. despite her colder exterior, she was still so captivating. her confidence demanded respect and you could tell she didn’t take lightly to defiance.

that night, you left with the sight of daniela peering through the windows. blinds open and staring at you as if you were a piece of meat. you didn’t bother checking again, hoping her gaze wouldn’t incinerate you.

‐‐

if there’s one thing daniela hated more than an ugly outfit, it was when people tried staying in her life past their expiration date. in the sense that once daniela cut you out her life, she expected you to stay out.

especially if you were her ex.

but daniela knows well enough how enticing her attention was. despite the harshness in her tone people always came crawling back.

always.

and she both hated and loved it. she basked in the attention and ego boost that it gave her. people wanted her no matter if she wanted them back, but in the same way it got annoying real quickly.

sure, it’s easy to toy with an ex when they’re hanging off every word, but it’s incredibly rude to her when they’re stupid. stupid like a hair that wouldn’t straighten, or a pimple that wouldn’t go away immediately.

so here she was, hoping to grab a nice warm coffee when she started getting pestered by her old hookup. someone she definitely did not want to see in her bed, ever again.

“come on baby, let’s kick it like old times.” he had on his god awful cologne that radiated off of him like a noxious cloud. hair that was unkempt, way too oversized sneakers and a big ego to pair.

those days are over for daniela.

“no, and you seriously need to get tested. last i heard you gave sharon gonorrhea.” daniela continued to flip her hand, checking out the mani she got yesterday. her nail tech definitely did her big one.

“i don’t have gonorrhea,” he looked around nervously seeing the distaste in a couple people’s eyes. and some guy even stood further away from him. he coughed a bit before starting again, “baby, don’t you miss us?”

daniela shook her head.

“remember…that time at drew’s?” he continued, pleading with his hands and even more pathetically his eyes too. god daniela can’t remember why she even let him near her.

“no, and please go, you’re embarrassing yourself.” daniela gestured to everyone, including the baristas who had stopped taking their order to hear the hot goss.

“baby, you know we look good together!” he didn’t bother paying attention to the onlookers, still staring at the top that daniela was wearing.

“what you meant to say is that i look good and you…look exactly the same…plain and boring.” and with that daniela pushed him away. a scoff from him erupting at the sudden force, him coming back with more anger in his stance.

“listen bitch, i tried being nice, but since you can’t.” he launched a fist at daniela, gasps all around the coffee shop could be heard. a couple girls stood back. when suddenly you surged forward, taking the punch to the jaw. falling over like a fallen hero.

and honestly, if you didn’t look so goofy with your giant enderman beanie, daniela would’ve fallen for the brave act. instead now you definitely had a swollen jaw and a bruised ego.

daniela immediately pushed him back.

“the fuck was that!” she continued pushing against him, his eyes frozen as he realized he hit someone that wasn’t daniela.

“i-i didn’t mean to.” he scrambled for words, scared of the onlookers. a couple people out with their cameras and a few already helping you up.

“you wanted to punch me? oh you’re so going to hell” and with a hard kick to the nuts, he doubled over, crunched into fetal position with tears in his eyed and pain shooting through his parts.

daniela walked away, already frustrated with how her day was going. but now she had to tend to an idiot who took the punch for her. she rolled her eyes when she grabbed a hold of your arm, dragging you away from the coffee place and towards sorority row.

“that really hurt.” you kept groaning to yourself, nursing the ice pack to your jaw. a slight bruise already forming from the impact. you were lucky your jaw didn’t completely dislocate or fracture.

“you’re such an idiot, who jumps in front like that?” daniela’s seated across from you, a big frown across her face as you continued to glance at her every so often.

“i’m sorry, he was being an ass and then he tried hitting you.” you continued rolling the ice pack around, a bit embarrassed at how easily you got knocked over.

“i’m glad he didn’t hurt you.”

and that shut her up, cheeks a bit flushed by the admission. it wasn’t like her to be attracted to this loser sort of heroism. she much preferred her nonchalant cool frat guys. doing this with ease and confidence, but instead her mind’s been wrapped around by you, her heart thumping in her chest, and maybe a bit between her legs.

she won’t admit that.

“you’re still an idiot, give me that.” she stands up, crossing the distance between you two. lifting your head gently as she continued rubbing the ice pack against your jaw. eyes that couldn’t leave yours and stomach filled with fuzzy feelings.

“next time, be smarter okay, you can’t go around just tossing yourself in front of me whenever i’m in danger.” she brought her lips down, gently kissing your jaw. “there, feel better?”

you nodded enthusiastically, even turning your jaw towards her. it was cute, she had to admit, you were cute. so daniela rolled her eyes again before giving another kiss.

“i promise i won’t be stupid again!” you gave a salute to her, a light melodic laugh coming into the air and your chest warming at the sound.

“you are stupid.” she counters instead, and even with the silly tone in her voice, you still frown.

“i’m not.” you cross your arms, pulling her closer to you, “i’m plenty smart.”

she doesn’t say anything, just lets you lean into her, jaw still bruised but in your heart you’re pleased with yourself. she didn’t get hurt and that’s all that mattered.

‐‐

daniela a [10:42pm]: are u busy?

you were playing a mobile game when your phone randomly vibrated. the sensation feeling like a zap to your heart. and when you picked up your phone again to read the text, there it was.

you [10:42pm]: hi daniela, no i am not busy. do you need me to pick you up?

daniela a [10:43pm]: no, can i come over?

daniela’s never stepped foot in your place, and you had hoped it never came to this. the large amounts of posters and cute trinkets lying around. especially the life size cutout of steve was tucked in the corner.

daniela a [10:45pm]: hello?

you [10:46pm]: um, i don’t think that’s a good idea.

daniela immediately shot up, what were you concealing from her. and more importantly was it a girl? she quickly dialed your number.

the flashing name also made you jump, you stood taller. eventually sitting back down to calm yourself as you picked up the phone. it was different this time, there wasn’t the loud background noise or loud shouts from random people. it was quiet, almost too quiet.

“daniela?” you prodded a bit, fiddling with your hoodie as you listened to her breathe lightly through the speakers.

the anticipation was unnerving, she usually was all force and loud. saying everything that came to mind, no matter who it offended.

“are you alone?” it’s strained, the kind of tone someone uses when they don’t want to ask it but they need to know. and you can’t imagine why she’d sound like that.

“yeah, i’m alone.” you look around, picking up a few dirty shirts and dropping them into the hamper. you never had people over, especially not someone like daniela. usually megan would just barge in, stealing your computer to play roblox or mess with your fish tank.

“send your address, i’m coming over now.” you could hear the scuffle against the mic. she was getting ready to come over, and you looked around nervously.

“i uh, yeah okay, i’ll send it over.” without another sound, the line went dead.

you [10:49pm]: you have started sharing their location.

daniela a [10:50pm]: omw

right, because you totally weren’t freaked out that she was coming over. and you certainly didn’t start immediately vacuuming the floors and picking up loose trash and tidying your desk when the seconds started to tick. until your millenium falcon was spotless and your plushies were all lined up together. you even stuffed your hamper away, tucked away in your closet.

daniela eventually knocked on your door, you were deep cleaning the toilet when you heard the sharp raps against the door. you quickly took off your gloves and mask, opening the door to let her in.

she looked good, really good. you stood back as she walked in, a curious look as she tried to make sure that you two were alone. eyes that eventually came back to you, she looked hungry for something, eyes filled with want. you were about to offer a drink when she sat on your bed, beckoning you closer, you closed the door behind you, walking towards her. she pats on the bed next to her, and with a slight shudder you sit down.

it’s unsettling, she hasn’t given a single command, usually it would be something like picking up coffee, doing her laundry for her, or picking her up from a party where she’s had too much.

she’s never stepped into your space before. you never had to deal with her invading your space, it was a safe distance to keep your attraction at bay. and a way to have privacy from her. especially whenever she wanted to use you to keep her exes at bay, always keeping your arm across her shoulders, even if it garnered stares from onlookers. she wasn’t bothered by it.

you decide to stay silent, hands held perfectly in your lap, as she watched you, then she scooted closer to you. where your pants could touch her bare thighs, long legs that pressed against yours. you shifted away, slightly nervous at the contact. then she pushed herself right next to you again, wanting to keep you both touching, and then she slipped her hand over your thigh. leaning close enough that it made you freeze up. eyes that didn’t leave yours for a second, she stared into yours, instinctively you look away, breaking the contact.

she clicks her tongue, making a noise of disproval.

“say, have you ever let someone touch you?” she tilted your head towards her, dropping her hand again when she had your attention, a slight drag of her hand as she let it drop back onto your pants. an immediately reaction when you flinched.

was the room getting hot?

“i, no? i don’t know.” you let the words stutter out, nervous energy spilling out of you, like a baby deer first learning to walk or trying out a new sport. you were obviously so delicate, just the kind of thing that interested in daniela. how you looked at the world with such purity, like a clean slate that she could mould with her hands if she played her cards right.

“you don’t know?” daniela asked with amusement laced in her voice, she thinks she knows, and she knows exactly what’s doing on. “all i’m asking, is if anyone’s touched you down here.”

she slid her hand closer to the crotch area, lightly patting at the fabric, you tried not to let it show, but you were sweating like crazy. heat flushing your face and willing yourself to not get hard, it was slightly humiliating. you never let anyone touch you, always keeping that close to yourself. but the way she was watching you and waiting patiently for an answer, you would let her.

“no, no one else.” your cheeks were now full blown red, tips of your ears heating up. you let out a breathe that you didn’t know you were holding, and then she lifted her hand of your pants. you missed the contact, it was so sudden, like the heat suddenly went cold. then you leaned back, hands that were propped to kep your body upright. she continued to look at you with amusement in your eyes.

“would you let me? touch you i mean?” she leaned back as well, observing the slight tent in your pants with interest, a coy smile as you continued to tap your foot nervously. she wanted to, it’s clear what the hunger in her eyes were, attention directed right in between your legs.

before you could fix yourself, daniela crossed her legs, distracting your thoughts for a second, she already knew your answer, from the way your fingers were itching to touch her, or how you were unable to look away, the nervousness still present, but ebbing into interest, and letting your resolve crumble.

you nod eventually, and daniela almost misses it, until you do it again,

“yes, you can.” you sound nervous, it’s cute how nervous you are, trying to contain all of it inside.

she smiles wider, a slight hum in her voice as she places her hand back onto your pants, leaning into your space. she’s finally got you, so close and in her hold finally. she then slowly leans in, pressing kisses onto your cheeks, light and quick, then she pulls you in for a kiss, sealing her lips to yours. it’s almost comically how your eyes go wide, cute, she continues to kiss you, leading you with small breaks between each kiss. she uses the intensity to distract you, unbuckling your pants with a single hand, and then she places an experimental touch.

just above your boxers where your semi has been confined.she hums again, curious as she presses on it, and you almost lift your hips to feel more of the pressure. a pressure that wasn’t typically your own hand or having to will it away in uncomfortable situations. daniela liked the look on your face, slightly unfocused, she wanted to see it, see the way you would crumble under her touch.

she normally wouldn’t let anyone who was inexperienced even near her, she was no coach and she wasn’t going to waste a good night trying to coach someone to fuck her right. but something about how you looked at her and did everything she wanted even if she wasn’t polite about it enticed her, she wanted to learn what made you tick, what set you off, and how she could coax that out of you. even better that no one had touched you, she would be the first to find all of that out.

“ah, be a good girl and wait okay?” daniela continued to lightly press her fingers over your boxers, a slight whine coming from your throat, she wanted to take her time, enjoy how you were slowly but surely becoming taut, and she hadn’t even gotten her hands on your cock yet.

“yes, daniela.” you fisted your hands into your sheets, trying with every fiber of your being to not just uncover your boxers, finally letting her see you. it was almost embarrassing how desperate you were, but maybe that’s what interested daniela, you were so honest about your feelings, even when you tried concealing them.

“dani.” and with that she slammed her lips back onto yours, picking up the pace as she pulled you out of your boxers, hard and a wetness around the tip, you were leaking in your pants. she giggled at that, using her hands to spread the wetness around, her eyes swimming in delight, oh you were hung, what a treat.

the way that you exuded your loser energy, a slight hunch and nervous eyes, she had a secret hunch that you were packing. how you always shifted uncomfortably whenever daniela would change in front of you when she went shopping. or how you tried very hard to conceal your hard ons whenever she made you come over for movie nights.

“dani, i um-i like that.” you mention out loud, hands trying to cover the panting and how much you were enjoying this, the pleasure running up your spine and building in your lower stomach. she kept rubbing the precum all over, making your cock wet, and oh she had never been so excited to give someone a handjob.

tension in your arms, and how you flexed your biceps when you covered your face, oh daniela was going to ruin you. in the heat of the pleasure, daniela lifted herself off the bed, and your eyes flew open, wondering what happened. then daniela shoved off her, revealing her cute baby pink camisole, dropping onto her knees.

even as she was below you, you felt like you were being hunted. she gave you a grin when you looked so cute being confused. she slid her hands onto your pants again, eventually gripping onto them harshly, making you gasp when she pulled you legs forward, moving you towards the edge of the bed more. until your legs were outstretched, then with a hand she grabbed onto your cock again.

you were still trying to catch up, the pressure from the handjob settling again, then she leaned forward, placing a light kiss on the head. enjoying how your eyes went wide once more, she then gave the head a lick. with all you could, you tried not to twitch, but when she went back for more licks you were letting out more precum at the tip. sensitive and heavy against her lips.

then she dipped her head down, letting it past her lips. liking the way it fit in her mouth, a slight thickness that stretched her mouth, not thick enough where it was painful. she dipped her head further down, letting your cock enter her mouth slowly. with every inch, you let out more whines and moans.

oh you were a loud one.

she felt pride inflate from within, and maybe the way you appreciated all of this so much was stirring something within her too. the familiar sense of lust in her lower stomach and growing in between her legs.

she continued to let you slowly enter her mouth until she felt the tip hit the back of her throat. you nearly shook at the contact, as if the squeeze of her mouth wasn’t enough, your sensitive head had hit something.

“dani, this feels so good.” your voice was strained, the pleasure of having your cock inside of her mouth was driving you crazy. the way she would hollow out her cheeks and sometimes let it out until it was just the tip before diving back in. it drove you mad, you never knew it could feel so good, so warm and so intense. the way her tongue would roll around you even when you were so deep inside.

your body was already laid out on the bed, almost like you were trashing against it, willing your lower half to be still. but you were already close, the familiar coil of your stomach winding up, close to a release, and she just kept going. even at times when your knees would knock into her or your hips would meet her face. she was in a trance, and all she wanted was to keep sucking.

so with more fervor she did, enjoying the way you thighs resisted against her hands. loud moans and gasps at every turn of her head, she felt the way you so clung onto your bed, keeping you from bumping into her. god it sounded so melodic in her ears, the pleas, the whines.

she could cum just from the sounds of you, every second of the act making her wetter. she even dipped her hand down to touch herself, give some relief as she sucked you until the air escaped from your lungs.

and she could tell you were trying to stave off your own impending orgasm, it had be escalating since the second she touched you and you were close. the slight twitches of your cock and the way you thighs would continue to grow tenser.

until you bit your lip hard enough to bleed, a sharp pain at the cut. you came as hard as your body shook, and you felt a stranger in your own body. cum that spilled out of you in quick spurts, your body buzzing in shocks. you continue to release ropes of cum down her throat, and she let you, greedily sucking you through it.

you continued to spasm as you came, feeling like you had floated out of your own body, hands clutched until your knuckles were white. begging the sheets to hold onto your body like a lifeline. and then there was your face, scrunched up at the feeling until you were able to relax, glasses foggy with how hard you were breathing. sweating and shaken you remained on the edge of the bed. daniela eventually lets you go with a pop, entirely too satisfied with her handiwork.

a content smile as she watched you continue to convulse every so often, the aftershocks of your orgasm still coming. it was strangely hot, how willing she was to give you your first blowjob. you were better than anyone she’s given head to before, a distinct respect of your body, trying not to hurt her and give into your instincts of grabbing her hair.

she didn’t spend the last hour before making sure it looked good for nothing.

and you were laid out in a daze, pretty in your silly t-shirt and half hanging pants and boxers. glasses foggy and ragged breaths as you tried coming down from the high.

it only turned daniela on further, how pliant and willing you were to let her do what she wanted. she wonders how far she can train you, maybe she could train you to fuck her right.

she leans down again, hovering slightly over your body, listening to you regain your breath when she leans in closer, just above you.

“you ever eaten a girl out before?” daniela already knows the answer, delighted at the idea of it already, an intensity in her eyes as she waits for your answer.

you can’t even get your words out, your throat feeling constricted and thick. you shake your head, trying to watch her through your foggy glasses.

“want to learn?”

a/n: lalalalalala hope u have enjoyed especially to the anon that requested this: here. didn't proofread this so sorry if its bad. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#katseye #neoplatinum

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