soeyekonic

[soeyekonic]

wtf!? 😭😭😭 pt2 will be posted tomorrow guys

— ✩♬ ₊˚. you get me so high ⭑ D.A

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

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

currently playing: you get me so high - the neighbourhood

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

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

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

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

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

but you know better.

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

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

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

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

no one talks about it, but the others know.

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

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

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

something sacred, maybe.

something no one else is supposed to see.

something that doesn’t survive daylight.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

silence.

it lands like a brick.

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

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

daniela doesn’t look at you. not once.

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

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

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

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

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

they all do.

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

—

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

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

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

twenty minutes later, there’s a knock.

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

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

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

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

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

“i panicked,” she whispers.

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

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

your voice sharpens. “yeah. i do.”

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

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

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

your heart stumbles. because you believe her.

you always believe her.

and maybe that’s the problem.

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

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

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

the silence is louder than anything she could say.

you wait.

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

but she doesn’t.

she never does.

and that’s what breaks you.

you shut the door. slow. soft. final.

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

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

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

she gets you so high. but the fall,

the fall is always yours to survive alone.

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

[soeyekonic]

😭😭😭😭

i was at like 200 when i posted ‘miss possessive’…that number went up quick! idk why you guys chose to follow me, but thank you 😭😭😭😭

[soeyekonic]

— ✩♬ ₊˚. you get me so high ⭑ D.A

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

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

currently playing: you get me so high - the neighbourhood

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

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

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

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

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

but you know better.

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

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

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

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

no one talks about it, but the others know.

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

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

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

something sacred, maybe.

something no one else is supposed to see.

something that doesn’t survive daylight.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

silence.

it lands like a brick.

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

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

daniela doesn’t look at you. not once.

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

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

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

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

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

they all do.

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

—

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

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

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

twenty minutes later, there’s a knock.

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

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

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

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

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

“i panicked,” she whispers.

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

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

your voice sharpens. “yeah. i do.”

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

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

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

your heart stumbles. because you believe her.

you always believe her.

and maybe that’s the problem.

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

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

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

the silence is louder than anything she could say.

you wait.

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

but she doesn’t.

she never does.

and that’s what breaks you.

you shut the door. slow. soft. final.

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

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

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

she gets you so high. but the fall,

the fall is always yours to survive alone.

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

[soeyekonic]

— ✩♬ ₊˚. miss possessive ⭑ S.L

˚⟡˖⋆ synopsis jealousy isn’t her style. sophia just reminds you, with a look and a kiss, exactly who you belong to.

disclaimers: sophia laforteza x fem!reader. fluff…? slightlyyyyy suggestive 🤘 there’s definitely some tension here guys 😣 (not proofread) idk what else…possessive sophia 🙂‍↕️

currently playing miss possessive - tate mcrae

the room hums with music, laughter, and the low buzz of too many conversations blending together. you don’t even know why you’re here, at some afterparty following an event you only half-listened to, your head already elsewhere the second sophia laced her fingers with yours on the way in.

you had every intention of sticking by her side the whole night. you always do. but somehow, you ended up at the bar alone while she got pulled into some conversation with industry people.

and that’s when she appeared.

the girl was pretty enough. big smile, glittering eyes, dressed like she wanted attention. and unfortunately, she picked you for hers. she leaned in close, voice loud over the bass-heavy song vibrating through the walls, hand brushing your arm like you were already familiar.

you laughed politely, shifted slightly, but you didn’t step away. not because you were interested, never, but because you knew who was watching.

you felt sophia’s eyes before you even saw her.

across the room, standing near the corner, drink still full in her hand, sophia’s gaze was locked on you. on her. on the way the girl’s hand grazed your waist a little too comfortably. her expression wasn’t angry. sophia never explodes, not like that, but there was a sharpness under her calm exterior, something dangerous glittering behind her eyes.

possessive.

like she was ready to snap her fingers and have the world rearrange itself.

you let the girl finish whatever dumb story she was telling, nodding, laughing politely again, but your attention wasn’t on her. your whole body was hyperaware of sophia’s stare, like a string was tied between you, pulling tighter with every second.

finally, you excused yourself, lips curling in an easy smile, walking away like it didn’t take every ounce of self-control not to turn around and smirk.

you didn’t need to look to know.

sophia followed.

the hallway outside is quieter, darker, and the door barely clicks shut behind you before you hear her voice.

“was she funny?”

you turn to face her. she’s already close. always so fast when she wants to be. the moment you meet her eyes, your stomach flips. there’s something electric about her in these moments, when the sweetness fades just enough to let the edge of her possessiveness show.

“what?” you ask, playing dumb.

sophia tilts her head slightly, smirk creeping across her face. “that girl. the one who couldn’t keep her hands off you. was she funny? cuter than me? smarter? more your type?”

her words drip with sugar and venom both, her voice low enough that it vibrates in your chest. she steps closer, boxing you in against the wall without even touching you yet, like she knows you won’t move away. like she knows you never do.

you bite your lip, fighting the grin that threatens to spill out. “are you jealous?”

her gaze darkens, narrowing just slightly. “no.”

“i just like what’s mine to act like it.”

and god, you loved when she said that. you love how it makes you feel. wanted, claimed, owned in the softest, sweetest way that still sends heat down your spine.

you reach up, fingers curling into the collar of her jacket, tugging her in like you can’t help yourself. “you’re crazy.”

she smiles wider, that dangerous kind of smile that always gets her exactly what she wants. “i know. that’s the part you like, isn’t it?”

—

back at your apartment, she’s worse. and you love every second.

she touches everything like she’s reminding the space who you belong to. her fingertips trail along your dresser, your vanity, the corner of your bed. she picks up one of your necklaces and drapes it around your throat herself, lips ghosting over your neck as she fastens the clasp.

“you looked good tonight,” she murmurs against your skin, voice like silk. “even with people staring. even with that girl thinking she had a chance.”

you shiver, breath hitching as her hands slide down your sides, pulling you flush against her. she’s wearing that signature pink lipgloss. the one you know she reapplied on purpose in the car ride over, like she was preparing for this.

“did you think i’d get mad?” she asks softly, lips brushing your ear. “did you want me to get mad?”

you don’t answer. you don’t need to. the way you melt into her grip tells her everything.

her hands find your waist, then your hips, fingers curling like she owns every inch. “i don’t share, baby. not your time, not your smile. definitely not your mouth.”

“you sound like a brat,” you tease, breathless now, even as you lean further into her, daring her to close the distance. “you know that?”

sophia laughs quietly, leaning in, her lips grazing yours, but not connecting them yet. “i sound like someone who knows what she wants.”

“and what is it you want, laforteza?”

finally, she kisses you. full and hungry. her possessiveness bleeding through every touch. it’s not desperate, it’s controlled, calculated, but you can feel the need behind it. you always can. she pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips,

“you, baby. always you.”

you feel your back hit the edge of the bed as she walks you backwards, never breaking eye contact. her hands never leave your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush, heat radiating between you.

she dips her head again, lips brushing just under your jaw. “say it.”

your pulse races under her touch. “yours.”

she smiles against your skin, breath warm against your ear as her grip tightens slightly, not rough, but firm enough to send that familiar shiver down your spine.

“mine,” she echoes softly. “and don’t forget it.”

her hands slide up your arms, fingertips grazing your shoulders, drawing goosebumps across your skin. the tension hangs thick in the room. electric, intimate, and heavy with all the words unspoken between you.

sophia finally leans in again, voice low, velvet smooth. “you like how i get, don’t you?”

you nod, barely breathing. “i do.”

her lips ghost yours again, so close it’s dizzying, but she doesn’t press in fully. she makes you feel every millimeter of space she controls, savoring the power of it.

and when she finally does kiss you again, it’s slow, deep, and utterly consuming. not rushed, not frantic, just hers.

and you let her take her time. because you’re hers.

a/n: i love tate mcrae… that’s all 🤷‍♀️

[soeyekonic]

and if i have selective hearing!? then what!?

there must be other sources out there 💔

still cant believe u blocked me btw🥀🥀🥀🥀

nuh uh. we’re not talking abt this again

[soeyekonic]

i might have selective seeing because i saw this one 😑

watch. when i wake up tomorrow it’s gonna be “who’s cinnamanz??” “what’s mamma mia??” “idk who that person is”

still cant believe u blocked me btw🥀🥀🥀🥀

nuh uh. we’re not talking abt this again

[soeyekonic]

are u guys seeing anything here?? it FEELS like someone is talking to me but i just can’t see anything 💔

still cant believe u blocked me btw🥀🥀🥀🥀

nuh uh. we’re not talking abt this again

[soeyekonic]

yes i am. erase it from ur memory and erase it quick. 🫶

still cant believe u blocked me btw🥀🥀🥀🥀

nuh uh. we’re not talking abt this again

[soeyekonic]

still cant believe u blocked me btw🥀🥀🥀🥀

nuh uh. we’re not talking abt this again

[soeyekonic]

hey…so! i got a tadddd bit carried away 🤗 after i wrote pt2 of ‘you get me so high’ i was like “huh- let me see if i can write a pt2 with a happy ending.” i did. but do we want both, or just the original plan (pt2 w no happy ending)?? lmk guysss. also, it won’t be posted tonight 😭😭😭 i was so in the groove while writing it and i actually didn’t read it over so it might actually be ass and i might have to rewrite it…both.

edit: bro….idek why i asked 💀💀

[soeyekonic]

call me the 7th member of katseye the way im MEOWINGGGGGGGG😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻

[soeyekonic]

a pt2 is in the works folks 💁‍♀️

— ✩♬ ₊˚. you get me so high ⭑ D.A

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

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

currently playing: you get me so high - the neighbourhood

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

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

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

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

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

but you know better.

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

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

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

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

no one talks about it, but the others know.

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

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

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

something sacred, maybe.

something no one else is supposed to see.

something that doesn’t survive daylight.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

silence.

it lands like a brick.

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

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

daniela doesn’t look at you. not once.

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

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

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

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

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

they all do.

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

—

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

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

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

twenty minutes later, there’s a knock.

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

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

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

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

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

“i panicked,” she whispers.

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

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

your voice sharpens. “yeah. i do.”

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

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

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

your heart stumbles. because you believe her.

you always believe her.

and maybe that’s the problem.

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

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

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

the silence is louder than anything she could say.

you wait.

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

but she doesn’t.

she never does.

and that’s what breaks you.

you shut the door. slow. soft. final.

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

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

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

she gets you so high. but the fall,

the fall is always yours to survive alone.

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

[soeyekonic]

heh so what was that dani ending

I'm outside your door

it was needed. be careful, the police are on their way

[soeyekonic]

lowkey not a happy ending, but something that makes the reader finally stand up and sees that no matter what, daniela always cares abt her "straight" image..

i just love that so many ppl on here love angst and arent bored of me writing it 🤩 i can starts pt2 veryyy soon and from the looks of it, it will be an angst ending 😭

[soeyekonic]

i sooooo want a part 2 for the new dani fic 😫 i wouldn’t mind an angst ending 🤭 where y/n finds someone who isn’t afraid to love them openly and then seeing dani witness it all and have her regrets 🤪

i overestimated how much work i had to do- so this can very much happen. just give me a couple days to write it 🤧

[soeyekonic]

i need a part 2 pls🥹🙏

i probably will… it’s been requested a few times 😭😭🙏

[soeyekonic]

me picking the fluffiest fic possible

i don’t think any of them were fluff 💔 billie bossa nova can maybe justttttt pass