#lara raj imagine

[coolwyous]

┈─★ 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮.

   ⊹ ࣪ ˖ when an unexpected breakup leaves you without a date to your sister’s wedding, it’s perfect, confident lara raj, the goalie for your university's hockey team, who jumps in to your rescue and volunteers to keep up a charade until your family is off your back. but as your friendship deepens, the lines begin to blur between what’s real and what’s for show.

   ˎˊ˗  ❄️  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  🔓୭˚.  ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

   ➴ pairing: hockey player! lara raj x physical therapy major!f!reader

   ➴ genre + wc: 12k, college au, FAKE DATING!, mutual pining, extremely slow burn, friends to lovers, denial of feelings, charming hockey jock lara, super domestic and slice of life-y, reader is a chronic overthinker and people pleaser...., just more fluff idk

   ➴ you might want to tune in...: bubble gum - newjeans.

┈─★ a/n: goalie lara anyone? the hockey au expands w our favorite team mommy <33 this fic is set overlapping the events of ditto, so if you're waiting for ditto pt 2, this gives a tiny behind the scenes. i am so in love w writing the dynamics in this verse, i hope everyone enjoys! dani's upcoming fic will complete the trio and prob be the longest of the three. also should clarify: megan + ditto!y/n are freshmen; hlbwfil!y/n, lara and dani are sophomores; sophia and manon are juniors.

cw:// mentions of recreational drug use, some suggestiveness? also reader BRIEFLY dates a man...

[*set overlapping the events of ditto-- read first here if you don't want spoilers!]

a new semester, same routine. it’s your second year as the women’s hockey team’s resident physical therapist in training. kinesiology isn’t an easy major, but you love it with your whole heart, and the girls all make it worth it. 

“i’m just saying, matching tattoos would look sick,” daniela says as the golden trio approaches the physio room after their showers. 

“yeah, but not of each other’s faces,” megan grimaces. you laugh at the notion that dani would even suggest it. 

“oh my god, the world’s most beautiful girl,” lara smiles, dropping down onto the cushioned bench in front of you.

“oh my god, i must be a mirror,” you grin back. 

you won’t talk about your soft spot for the trio. you love all of the girls on the team, but there’s a special bond you built with the three musketeers. megan, the baby of the team, who opened up to you about how much she misses her mom as you walk her through some stretches for her back strain. dani, the chaotic team captain with no boundaries, who beams every time you compliment her after she makes it through her ice bath without flinching.

and lara raj. you especially won’t talk about your soft spot for lara, the confident, secure goalie who you’ve grown especially close with. 

you know lara makes it a habit to be this nice to everybody. it comes with the territory. you know lara comes from money without flaunting it, always offering to cover meals for the girls with that insanely heavy black credit card with her dad’s name on it. she’s told you a little bit about how good she’s had it, the perfect parents, a super nice older sister, solid grades and of course, a talent for making sure a puck never flies past her. 

it’s easy to love lara— perfect, confident, generous lara. 

(so maybe you let yourself love her, just a little too much, but that’s for you to keep to yourself.)

lara’s compliments can sometimes come off as a bit much, but that’s the thing you’ve realized with her. while megan is usually too nervous to choke out anything, and dani says whatever is on her mind with no filter, lara finds the perfect balance. lara is observant and attentive, and she sees people for what they care about and finds a way to make them feel seen for it. 

well, you don’t exactly prioritize being beautiful, but it’s a bonus that lara likes to call her loved ones pretty. 

“can i talk to you about something?” she asks as you put stabilizing tape on her shoulder. your supervisor is in the office coming up with treatment plans for that week for the rest of the team. 

despite daniela being the one that boasts the giant “c” on her jersey, lara is the de facto team mom. while dani is the one screaming in coach’s face about his unfair treatment of a player, lara the one constantly waving you down when someone tries to hide an injury or fake feeling better, making sure they get the attention they need instead of toughing it out. their dynamic is polar opposite, the defender and the caretaker but the two best friends complete each other. 

“what’s up?” you hum, watching as the strips of KT tape start to make a mesmerizing pattern against lara’s soft skin. 

“i’m worried about meg’s grade in our english class.” she whispers, ensuring the girl can’t hear you guys from outside the door. “dani chat gpt’s it all and gets away with it, i feel fine, but we’re struggling to help her keep up.”

“you told her not to take intro to british lit with you,” you remind her. 

“i know, but i don’t think it’ll help to rub it in right now,” she sighs. “it’s so much reading."

you feel your brow furrow as you remember your assistant coach whispering something about academic probation to your head coach once last week, when they were doing their monthly grade assessment. the season is going so well, and megan’s been absolutely killing her position as center to the point that she’s the starter, so you can imagine how bad the team would suffer if she gets temporarily barred from playing.

you see the look in her eyes. lara’s worried about what it’ll do to megan if she gets dinged for her grades and has to stop playing, even for a short amount of time.

“when yunjin got diagnosed with adhd, she was able to talk to the university resource center to ask for more time during tests,” you remember, wracking your brain for a solution. the defenseman had told you about it at the very beginning of the semester, as if it was a hack. 

“okay, period. we have a plan a,” lara beams. “you and that big brain, y/n.”

you feel your ears redden and shake your head. “what’s our plan b in case my big brain fails?”

“i will seduce her professor and change the grade myself,” she decides. you laugh but quickly feel yourself furrow as she winces at the you bend her shoulder. she tries to keep you away from changing the topic. “i’ll take one for the team. maybe that should be plan a, actually.”

“hey, no,” you press gently, concerned. she had told you the shoulder was pain free. “is your rotator cuff still bothering you?”

“it’s sore when i don’t stretch it, but that’s just me getting old,” lara waves you off. 

“what do you think i’m going to say to you next?” you ask her.

“oh my god, y/n, always so non-confrontational. like my little conscience in my ear, asking me questions until the guilt eats me alive,” lara laughs, shoving you away from her. “it’s so annoying how good at that you are, you pacifist.”

you smile and put your supplies away, but lara’s words are nothing but the truth. you’re so painfully fearful of confrontation, it’s almost a joke that the career you’ve picked is with a full contact sport. 

you open your mouth to say something, to ask further about the injury, when your phone ringing catches your attention. you feel yourself tense as you see the contact photo.

but lara, perfect, attentive lara, never misses anything with you.

“boyfriend again?”

she gives you a questioning look. she knows everything about you, including how rocky things have been with your less than attentive boyfriend lately. 

“distance isn’t easy on anyone,” you say simply, but her look says enough. she gets up and offers you a reassuring hug.

“you’re not just anyone, so don’t let him treat you like you are.” how the hell does she always manage to sound straight out of a soap opera? you nod, blinking back the rising heat in your chest at the nerves

“it’s complicated,” you remind her, but she’s already giving you that look. you hate how you guys can communicate so much with so little. 

you flag your supervisor to come check your work and step outside to take the call. you can feel lara’s eyes on you the whole time.

“hi felix…”

-

a week passes by, and so do two more phone calls that go the exact same way. all ending with a knot in your stomach at his words. you’re silently grateful that your roommate dropped out in the second week of school. a solo dorm all to yourself is a luxury you don’t take for granted when you’re so constantly fighting on the phone with someone into the late hours of the night.

“he’s mad about me not calling him when he got out of class again,” you sigh over facetime with daniela, as you flop onto your bed after a particularly boring history lecture. “i have explained so many times that i go straight from class to go work on you guys after practice.”

“go cheat on him or something,” daniela says simply. “he’s an annoying little bitch.”

“dani,” you sigh exasperatedly. you love her, but it’s easy to see why coach blames her for his going bald. she can be extremely difficult and give zero fucks about it.

you’ve always kept an extremely small circle. but lara’s in class, megan has never been in a relationship, yunjin is out with her girlfriend, and you’d rather die than talk to your sister about your boyfriend issues.

which leaves daniela, whose brash, calloused responses remind you just how perfect and emotionally in-tune with you lara is. 

however, what daniela lacks in tact she makes up for in passion and pure heart, so you can always read between the lines and see her intentions are good.

“dude, come get fucked up with me and the kappa theta girls this weekend and you will literally never want to talk to that limp dick loser again.”

okay. mostly good intentions.

you remain silent as you assess the lack of food in your minifridge. usually, the silent treatment works wonders to get dani back on track, and this time is no exception.

“well, either way, you’ve always got lara who’d drop anything to marry you in a heartbeat.”

you laugh. that’d what you needed, the thing the three musketeers are so good at– saying the stupidest things. 

“i’m ready when she is,” you tell her jokingly, tossing an old box of leftovers into the trash.

“been ready. break up with your soggy bitch and i’ll take y’all to the courthouse tomorrow.” you hear her laugh, but then you hear something like water bubbling, followed by a long exhale.

“don’t you have a press conference tomorrow?” you laugh, realizing exactly what the noise was.

“why do you think i’m getting baked out of my mind right now instead of in the morning? for a smart girl you’re kinda dumb sometimes, y/n,” she teases. 

“don’t flirt with me too loud now, my dorm’s gonna end up burnt down by one of your crazy stalkers,” you deadpan dryly, realizing you need to go get something to eat.

“when you decide you’re done with that fucking joke of a man, i know a girl who’s lined up waiting for you,” she tells you between coughs, “and unfortunately for you, it isn’t me.”

“thanking god that i’m the one girl on earth who won’t take a ride on the avanzini train,” you laugh. daniela has always been respectfully inappropriate, and she’s one of the few people you feel comfortable enough to tease. “your ride’s probably messed up anyways.”

“100% satisfaction rate, lots of insistent repeat customers actually,” she defends herself passionately. “i wouldn’t be so bold, y/n, your shit is probably whack if it’s got your man tweaking so bad.”

“and the convo ends nee-ow,” you sigh, shaking your head, but your heart feels a little less heavy after dani’s nonsense. “thanks for cheering me up, captain.”

“thanks for patching us up all the time. we love you, y/n. keep your head up.”

the line dies out, and you go to lace up your sneakers. as much as dani loves to say shit to get a rise out of people, you think back over her words. lara.

perfect, confident lara has always been honest about how much she adores you. at first, you used to think it was just her way of making you feel comfortable around all of them. the hockey team is close, freakishly close, and she was always so warm and thoughtful enough to invite you to all their outings and make you feel included. she never had to– you’re only with them through next year, and then senior year you’ll be at the university medical center working in a real physical therapy clinic for your clinical rotation. your end goal is sports medicine, and you’d love to get hired by the hockey team once you graduate, but you need to keep your options open and be prepared for anything.

plus, you and felix are supposed to look for jobs in the same city once you graduate, move in together, build a life…

that beautiful, melodic voice enters your head as you hunt down your wallet. lara loved to bat her eyes at you whenever you mentioned not knowing what comes after graduation: “aw y/n, don’t you wanna take care of me forever?”

in the early days, you used to think she and dani were the same breed of college athlete. cocky, arrogant, flirtatious. the flirting rang true for the both of them, but you started to see where lara differed. she was tender, caring, and empathetic at times you had least expected. 

the first time she ever told you she’d liked you, you thought it was another one of her mindless flirtations. you had learned to let them roll off your shoulder by that point. but even after you had laughed, she stood there, brows arched, and reiterated it. “y/n, i’m serious. i really am into you.”

you feel your spine tingle at the memory. what are you supposed to do with that? you and felix had just hit a year. a rocky, bumpy year, but you had met just after high school and you figured you owed it your best shot. lara was quickly one of your closest friends, and you had confided everything in her.

she never defined it as a crush, nor did she ever make you feel guilty for it. her transparency was equal parts confusing and refreshing. it made your friendship stronger, if anything. never crossing the line of touching too close or flirting too passionately. you two existed in a weird limbo– lara raj was somehow in love with you, openly so, and yet was so damn perfect she never made it big enough to affect your friendship.

(this is the part where you try to stop thinking about it before your head has a hard time making sense of it all… but… don’t you love her too?)

you step out of your dorm and spot an unfamiliar girl letting herself into your neighbor’s dorm. your neighbor,  baby megan skiendiel’s dorm. you feel a rise of suspicion. chronically bitchless megan, as the trio calls her? maybe you’ll give her roomie danielle a heads up?

meg’s got someone over.  she’s reaaaallly pretty

i appreciate you! ;-; best neighbour ever!

ofc <333

i think she mentioned something about a study partner?

you smile and step out of the building into the chilly night air. lara made it happen. you know megan would have been too nervous to ask for the support on her own, so it must have been with the guidance of the older girls that–

your phone buzzes. felix, again.

“i just barely got home and headed to dinner, like the second you called me,” you tell him quickly as you pick up, wanting to avoid another fight. you can feel yourself already breathless and anxious.

“why do you always talk to me like that? like i’m an idiot. i’m not an idiot, y/n. did it ever occur to you that your standards are just too unrealistic?” his voice is so cold, making your stomach turn as you keep walking towards the dining hall, trying to avoid letting your eyes water before you see someone you may know.

“i don’t think it’s that ridiculous. we’re long distance. we don’t have the easy things to fall back on,” you furrow your eyebrows, nearly disgusted. 

but then he pauses, and you can hear him suck in a breath. your stomach drops at the way his tone changes.

“maybe we should think about that. if the distance is too hard.”

“what the fuck, felix?” you try not to make it a habit to swear, but the tears are already pricking at the corners of your eyes. you want to scream but everything stays trapped in your chest.

“you gave up forever ago,” he accuses you.

“you think so?” is all you can manage to ask. it’s moments like this where you admire someone as unhinged as daniela, who you’re sure could easily give him a piece of her mind, or yunjin, who won’t stand for even a whiff of disrespect.

or lara, you think, who’d know her worth enough to just hang up and move right on along. 

you lose yourself in silence as felix unleashes a rant that feels much too pre-prepared to be brought on by simply missing his call. you feel your chest ache at the thought of everything changing for you. you don’t know how much time has passed before he realizes you haven’t said anything. you’ve always hated that about him. you’re naturally reserved, and it’s almost like he just assumes you have nothing to say.

he ends the call when he’s ready, with a “sorry it had to be like this, y/n,” and you’re too drained to fight him on it. you stop and sit on a nearby bench to wipe your face clean and send a quick rescue text to the only person you really want to talk to in that moment. 

lara’s calling you less than 30 seconds after you hit send. 

“lar, you’re in class, you didn’t have to call me,” you chastise her gently, but you know there’s no point.

“i know you said call you after class, but that’s such an sos, you never need anything so i know this has got to be the real deal,” she tells you.

“i just needed to get out of my head.”

“everything okay?” she asks tenderly. 

“um, no. not really.” you take a deep breath and look up, trying to avoid the well of tears coming back up. “i think felix and i just broke up.”

“oh, fuck that guy. never liked him. i’m coming to get you in 5.”

perfect, always-knows-what-to-say lara raj does exactly that, tracking you by your location just a few minutes later, and insists you two go out to eat and tell her everything. it stings, but lara’s presence makes everything more bearable. maybe this isn’t the worst thing that could have come out of today.

-

you wake up in your dorm and feel the dull, anxious buzz in your stomach as you remember yesterday’s call. but spending the rest of the night with one of your favorite people had made it practically melt away, and by the time she had dropped you off, felix was far out of your mind. 

you’re taking the breakup better than most would expect, but then again, you’ve also been called “the statue” by coach by how non-reactive you are. 

what’s the point in losing your cool and letting others get the best of you? sure, your sister grew up walking all over you, but most of the time, it wasn’t worth it to get into it with her. you’ve been like this since you were little– you hoard your emotions, stoic through all hardships, too afraid to let people see you struggle and think any less of you. your dad’s always been such a worry wart, your step-mom is insanely judgemental, and your sister jordan gets everything she wants, never once having understood what it’s like to feel like a burden.

your sister, who you haven’t thought of all night. why would you? this breakup is about–

oh god. your very demanding, very aggressive, very engaged-to-be-married-in-two-weeks, sister. 

your jaw nearly drops as you realize the extra layer of what your breakup means for you. your hands shake in panic.

breakfast with lara. you feel it anchor you, ever so slightly. there’s an idea that pops into your head that you barely let yourself contemplate before realizing if there’s anyone who could come to your rescue, it might be perfect, angel lara.

“you know i’d never ask anything of you, ever, right?” you start as the two of you sit down, setting your trays onto the table.

“yes, you’re too proud and too hardworking,” lara nods, grinning as you smack her shoulder. 

“okay,” you breathe nervously, “well i am extremely embarrassed to ask you this, but my psychopath of a sister is getting married in two weeks and i already told her i was in a relationship, so if i show up alone, she’s never going to let me hear the end of it, ‘cause she planned for a specific seating arrangement and—”

oh my god, you realize you’re rambling. you try to pivot to what the bigger issue is.

“damn, okay, well let me just say that my my stepmom will be weird, my dad is gonna overreact and make me come back home, i won’t get to finish my program–”

oh my god, again you gasp at yourself. this is why the hell you don’t let yourself panic. you crack.

there’s a pause as you see lara digest all of it. 

“parents love me,” lara finally grins. you let out the breath that had been stuck in your throat. you feel an immense gratitude that she isn’t pushing you to say it.

how could you possibly mutter the words out loud? will you be my fake date to this real wedding?

“i’m so sure yours did,” you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but laugh. she’s got the confidence of a child who was never told no. 

“all parents,” she pushes back, poking you in the ribs. 

“don’t get too cocky. it was between you, daniela, and meg, but meg gets nervous when someone even breathes next to her and dani is-”

“oh my god,” lara covers her mouth with her hand at the image in her head. “she’d be forcing your family members to drink shots out of her mouth and harassing the dj.”

you hold three fingers up, and fold them down as you go through the lineup of your options. “our infant daughter who can barely remember her own name, hot-headed attention whore with no boundaries, or charming and slightly overconfident sweetheart.”

“i’m going to pretend my competition wasn’t those two idiots and just tell myself i was the clear winner from the start.”

“i’ll owe you everything,” you tell her gently.

“i’m happy to do it.” she shakes her head, before a beaming grin. “you know it’s inevitable that we fall in love though, right?”

you laugh, but she reaches out to you, and your hands meet over the table. what a massive reassurance. 

“lara i can’t stress enough how thankful i am, and how anxious over all of it i am.”

“i got this,” she reassures you, confident nod. “i’ve got you.”

“thank you,” you breathe quietly once more, and you feel your heart stir. you do trust her, with your whole heart actually, to make this work.

-

you’re supposed to be sleeping in when the blare of your phone ringing shocks you awake. again, grateful to live alone. 

“ugh, jordy, it’s 6 in the damn morning,” you groan as you bring the phone to your ear. your sister has her own special ringtone, love by keyshia cole, her stupid go to karaoke song. 

“y/n,” jordan drawls, and you roll your eyes as you remember she simply does not care about inconveniencing you. “my friend wants to know if you’ll let her third wheel you at the table. i’ve never met your boyfriend so i want to know he won’t be weird with her.”

you almost don’t remember what she’s talking about, until you feel your body tense. the damn wedding looming over your head. 

the good thing about being notoriously private, you realize, is that you had kept your relationship entirely between the two of you. felix had hated how you never posted him, never let him tag you in anything, never let him meet your family or friends, simply told them “i’m seeing someone” once you had hit six months. you bite your tongue. maybe you could see why he’d be so frustrated… but you’ve always wanted to keep your business to yourself, and having someone associated to you for people to judge you off of would be entirely unfair to you. 

“girlfriend,” you correct her quietly. as soon as the word comes out, you can’t hide from it any more. you and lara are committing to the charade. 

“girlfriend?” she sounds surprised, but not annoyed. “okay, but she needs to wear my colors or i’ll kill her.”

you breathe a quiet laugh. at least jordan can always make things about herself. “i’ll make sure she knows.”

“anyways, my friend, she’s so cute, says she’s in your research methods class,” she pivots back to her initial ask. “i’ll tell her she can link up with you whenever. i’ll give her your instagram.”

before you can say anything, jordan hangs up unceremoniously. you furiously get dressed and brush your teeth, trying to rush to lara as soon as physically possible. this adds a kink to your plan. 

you make it to her dorm in a few and punch in her keycode, letting yourself into her room quietly. you poke around to see if her roommates are home and if you’ll wake her, but luckily, the only person you see in the bed is her. 

your heart thuds. perfect, sweet lara raj, slumbering like an angel, her lips parted slightly and her brows furrowed in her sleep. 

“lar,” you gently hum, approaching with caution. “lar, it’s y/n.”

you had let yourself into her dorm after her insistence before, and as she stirs awake, a smile takes to her lips. “i was hoping it’d be you when i heard the door.”

“um, so, issue.” you whisper, kneeling by her bed as you play with her hair to help her wake up. “my sister basically wants a friend of her’s to hang out with us so she’s not uncomfortable at the wedding, but i have no clue who the friend is.”

lara rubs at her eyes sleepily, reaching for her phone as she looks up at you. “which means…”

“i’m really sorry.” the weight of this isn’t lost upon you. “is there any way we can be like, pretend exclusive for the next week and a half? if this girl sees you out with someone and texts my sister then it’s all pointless.”

“oh, so like, fully off the market?” lara arches an eyebrow.

“i know it’s a huge ask.”

there’s a heavy pause, and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you alive. what an embarrassing situation to force lara into. you’d fully understand if she’d push back. 

but perfect, helpful lara raj simply grins up at you and shows you her phone, finger hovering over her dating apps folder as she deletes them one by one in front of you. 

“i’ll delete my tinder right now.” she says easily. “not about to blow your cover.”

you let out a deep breath and swarm her in a hug. “lara, you’re a godsend.”

“not my first time hearing that,” she beams back at you. 

you get a dm in that moment from a random photography instagram that had followed you later that morning. the profile picture is of a tree, giving you no hints about this girl’s identity. 

peanutbutterlover02: hey <3 jordan said i could come crash you guys! are you busy today? maybe we can do dinner together?

you breathe shakily. your first test as a fake couple.

“let’s do it,” lara says confidently, and you realize she’s reading over your shoulder.  

“if my asks ever get too weird, please, please say something.” you tell her firmly. “i don’t ever want you uncomfortable just to help me out. we can scale it back any time if the lines get blurry.”

“y/n, this is like a dream come true for me,” lara teases. “i’ll speak up if i need to, but don’t worry too much about me, okay?”

“thank you,” you breathe shakily, and send a reply to this girl with a time and place. 

-

you’re getting ready for the hang out after practice when lara texts you. 

meg and dani found out we’re going to the makers market and want to come... maybe a small group will make her more comfortable?

our first exposure is a group thing?

if that’s okay?

won’t they be weird about us acting like that?

do you trust them to keep a secret?

you’re heading out the dorm but pause in your tracks. one massive factor you didn’t consider— the girl with no filter.

oh my god daniela

and that big mouth

i will beg her

no don’t do that, pretty girl. i’ll talk to her. she’ll always do it for the team.

lara always manages to find a way. you feel your chest loosen and keep walking, shooting a message to jordan’s friend before jumping back to lara. 

my hero

;) we’ll be there in like 5

you spot the girl on the bench in front of the library, exactly where you agreed to meet up. 

“hi!” she greets, pulling you in for a hug. “you’re jordy’s sister. i’m manon.”

“how do you know each other?” you ask curiously. jordan is a bitch, in every sense, and manon seems so… normal?

“jordy is my hair girl.” she smiles and taps at the intricate patterns along her scalp. “cleanest parts i have ever seen.”

“i’m y/n,” you smile, and let out a small breath before you commit fully to the act. no turning back now. “my girlfriend and her friends will be here super soon.”

as if on cue, you hear old justin bieber rnb blaring from an approaching vehicle, and recognize lara’s car right away. 

“hi ladies,” lara beams from the window as she pulls up to the curb. you see the ginger hair and blonde curls in the back.  “your uber is here.”

manon squeezes into the back, and you take the passengers seat. you suck in a breath. maybe you and lara should have practiced how to be, what to do, how to navigate this, especially in front of two of your closest friends. lara makes easy work of chatting up manon and keeping the conversation flowing until you guys get to the makers market, a bustling farmers market for art where they block off a whole street for vendors. 

you’re too busy overthinking to notice megan and daniela’s widened eyes as lara snakes an arm around your waist as you all start walking. your skin tenses at the contact. 

lara, confident, unshakable lara, does it as if you’ve been hers for years. this might not be a mission destined for failure after all. 

-

manon is extremely sweet and undeniably hilarious. the evening goes on without a hitch (maybe besides dani trying to race megan to see who can eat their korean corn dog faster causing both of them to choke) but even the small hiccups are nothing compared to how natural lara is at making this so convincing. she’s touching you at every opportunity, taking pictures of you each time you turn back to look at her, buying every thing you even look at. you know it’s all for show, but you can’t help but think of how easy she makes it seem. if felix was this competent, he’d be the one you’d want here right now, but lara does all the things you begged him to do, without having to be asked.

you guys are back on campus before 9pm, but you’re having too much fun. you spend a lot of time buried in anatomy textbooks or watching orthopedic surgeries, and tonight, you just want to enjoy it with your friends.

“we can go back to my room,” you offer to the group as you guys wander out of the parking garage. “i have a single.”

the group agrees, and the five of you make it to your dorm in just a few minutes walking. lara’s hand snakes into yours, and you feel your spine tingle.

“do you guys smoke?” manon raises her brows hopefully, holding up her bag. you guide them all up the stairs of the building and into your room, plugging in your twinkle lights.

“fuck yeah,” dani beams. 

“aren’t we getting drug tested this week?” megan asks worriedly.

“next week, kiddo,” lara rubs the top of her head playfully. “and we’ll just skip you. no pressure.”

manon takes a pre-roll out of the hand-painted altoid tin in her purse and you head over to crack the window. in just a few minutes, you’re all laughing on the floor of your room, nodding along to music playing from your speaker, passing the joint around amongst the group.

“why didn’t they give you captain?” you ask lara. “you’re such a good role model. minus the recreational drug use and flirting with everyone you know.”

“they wanted to, actually. did you know that?” megan says, a bright grin on her lips.

“you said no?” you ask in surprise. lara is staring at the ground, thumb rubbing along the bottom of your braids.

“i didn’t want it.” she shrugs calmly, taking another inhale. “i like hockey, i just like other things too. can’t make it my whole life, duh.”

“plus, she doesn’t have the same face i do for interviews,” dani butts in, flexing dramatically. “cameras love the curls + dimple combo.”

manon snorts, and you and lara exchange smiles. you won’t talk about how comfortable it feels to have lara leaning against your shoulder, playing with your hair, the proximity of her washing a wave of comfort over you.

“hey do you guys think i have negative aura just ‘cause i didn’t smoke?” megan asks, nose wrinkling as she watches you guys hand the joint amongst yourselves.

“no. you’re bitchless because you’re scared of your own shadow,” daniela quickly answers, and megan’s face drops.

“bro, i can totally pull.” 

“i see no bitches,” dani claps back. “all you do is text that tutor of yours. get her to at least show you a titty or something, come on.”

the four of you laugh in tandem as megan glares at the blonde.

“don’t talk about my tutor like that.”

“a boundary, from the baby?” lara all but cries, beaming so brightly you feel like she might fall over. “baby’s first boundary! get the camera!”

megan rolls her eyes and waves her off. you guys talk and talk into a random hour of the night, enjoying the calm of getting to know someone new and change up the routine just a bit. this yap session is a welcome change of pace, and you’ve never enjoyed yourself more than listening to dani debate with anyone who disagrees with her, watching megan push back weakly, manon simply laugh at everything, and lara reel it in when it gets too crazy while still adding fuel to the fire. you could stay like this forever, you think to yourself.

“it’s so late,” you realize as you finally look at your phone for the first time all night. “you guys can stay so you don’t have to walk back when it’s so dark.”

“i live next door,” megan tells manon, excusing herself. “this was fun.”

“we should totally do it again, thank you guys for being so fun,” manon smiles, before assessing your room. you have your bed, the extra bed, and a wide space between the two beds in the middle of the dorm. “if it’s okay to stay, i can totally sleep on the floor with no issue.”

“no way, you’re the guest,” you insist, reaching under your bed to locate your extra blankets. manon and dani start cleaning up the ash tray and trying to air out your room. 

your brain runs through the possible combinations. manon on the floor, jordan finds out and kills you. dani on the floor, she’ll complain all night. you guys could figure out sharing beds, manon and dani could—

your eyes widen, and as if she’s thinking about the exact same combination, lara’s panicked gaze meets you at the exact same time. 

“no fucking chance,” lara whispers. “the animal needs her own bed."

the only viable solution makes itself painfully clear as you shrug and whisper back to lara. “we could sleep on the floor.”

“perfect. always with the plans,” she beams back happily. lara directs the two, gesturing to the separate beds. “you’ll be here, and you’ll be here.” 

“i can’t do that to you,” manon frowns, seeing you set up the pillow and blanket on the carpeted floor.

“it’s too small for us to both fit. we’re happier like this anyways,” lara insists, and it’s enough for manon to offer a smile of gratitude. everyone gets into their assigned spots, the smell of incense and the buzz of your fan lulling you into drowsiness after lara turns off your lights.

“good night manon, thanks for hanging out with us,” you tell her, happy to have made a new friend.

“say good night to me,” daniela pouts.

“you’re the reason we can’t make normal friends,” lara snips back.

manon laughs. “i love you guys already.”

“good night,” lara whispers in your ear as she arranges herself besides you, pressing a kiss into your hair. the feeling is so foreign coming from her, and yet you feel your body seek her out as you press back into her hug. 

you close your eyes and let her pull you close. you know there’s an end in sight, but maybe you’ll let yourself pretend it could be longer.

-

the next morning, everyone disperses to their own dorms before the day starts. you make it through your classes though it’s a struggle with the lack of sleep. by the time you come out of your final class of the day, ready to head towards the ice rink to prepare for the girls’ practice, a familiar figure is standing outside your classroom, leaning against the wall. her eyes light up as she spots you.

“what are you doing?” you ask, seeing her practice bag slung over her shoulder.

“we date, so i walk you to practice,” she says simply, reaching out for you. “duh.”

you remember that her last class of the day ended over an hour ago, meaning she must have waited for you. you shake your head in surprise. “your class is closer to the stadium.”

“i’d rather walk with you,” she says back easily. perfect, charming lara raj, always ready to push back against your excuses.

“there’s no need to be that public,” you respond. ugh, why can’t you just accept the gesture. she wants to make your life so easy and yet something in you can’t accept the generosity.

“what if manon sees us and is wondering why we don’t seem loved up?” lara challenges you. “i’d hate to have her tell your sister we’re fighting.”

“more people might ask questions,” you whisper nervously.

“let them.” she smiles, forever a beacon of confidence. “not their business.”

you’re running out of reasons to push her away. “coach?”

“we can tell him it’s new. who’s he gonna tell?”

she takes your hand in hers, and you let her, wishing you had let her a long, long time ago.

-

it becomes way too easy to go through these motions with lara. when you’re alone, she’s respectful, never needing to make any advances that don’t suit the moment, allowing your friendship to still be anchored in some normalcy. the touches are intimate but never suggestive, the compliments are tender but never too intense, and she’s only ever kissed you on the head or on the hand.

but you start to struggle when you’re alone, craving her closeness but confused as to why you’d want that if it’s just the two of you. you think about the timeline of this insanely busy week. tomorrow, the pre-game party. day after, the championship game, and the day after that, you fly in the morning to make it to the wedding by the evening. your facade is coming to an end, and you know you guys should figure out what the story will be as to why you’ll inevitably “break up,” but each time you guys hang out late at night with manon, all you can focus on is immersing yourself in the experience.

you’re all laying on the floor of your dorm, smoking dani’s weed this time (megan as the exception, too nervous to risk it the week of such an important game) and chatting mindlessly. manon won’t be able to make it to tomorrow’s party, so you guys all make it a point to have another of your yap sessions in your room. 

“with the exception of the obvious happy couple,” manon starts her question, staring up at the ceiling. “have you guys ever been in love before?”

“no.” megan’s nose wrinkles. “i just barely started kissing people.”

“a few times,” lara confesses, calmly. she had mentioned a few of her relationships back when you guys were just friends, a few flings you noticed her get caught up in. you never minded, lara was never ever supposed to hold back just because she had admitted to liking you, but you couldn’t help but wonder about these girls every time you noticed her get into something new. “maybe three. i’m not in the business of denying my feelings.”

“which one was the deepest?” manon asks curiously.

lara pauses, contemplating. you don’t expect anything from her. in 48 hours, she won’t owe you anything. but yet, perfect, angelic lara, always manages to catch you off guard.

“this one,” she says, and you can’t tear your eyes away from her. her confession rattles through your chest. “it’s like a dream, but i know it’s a dream, and i’m trying to enjoy it as much as i could before i have to wake up.”

you feel your pulse in your neck. manon and megan both turn to look at you. any other time, you’d avoid the question and leave it there– sure, you had liked felix, enough to stay with him all that time, but there was never anything about him that rattled you, that unnerved you and comforted you all at once. had you ever even really liked him in the first place? had you admired, respected, felt seen by him?

(had you ever once loved him, even half as much as you love lara raj?)

you let out a shaky breath. maybe you can be brave enough to say it out loud, just this time, let yourself pretend before it’s all over.

“once,” you finally admit. lara’s eyes come to meet yours. 

“yeah?”

“perfect girl is easy to love,” you tell her simply. your chest warms and she brings her nose to rest against the tip of yours. 

“once, for me too,” dani says, staring blankly at the ceiling. the admission surprises you, and you can tell lara and megan seem just as caught off guard. daniela lets out a quiet breath. “just once.”

“what happened?” you pry gently.

daniela laughs, and it’s the first time in the two years you’ve known her that you’ve ever heard her with a hint of something more in her voice. “it fucking hurt. i didn’t ever want to go through that again.”

“should i be scared?” megan asks, brows furrowing in concern. 

“no,” daniela says quickly, waving her off. “i’m a lightning strike. being in love is so, so beautiful.”

“how do you know when it happens?” the ginger asks, voice gentle.

“you just know,” manon says simply. 

megan pauses for a beat, before letting out a quiet breath. “i want to change my answer.”

“oh?” you ask.

“tutor girl?” lara arches a brow, turning away from you to peer over at the youngest girl. 

“she’s so easy to like. she’s so, so smart, and so nice to me, even when she’s being playful, she’s doing it to make me laugh. she believes in me, through everything. every time i’m around her i just feel like i don’t have to be anyone but myself, whoever i am that day. i’ll call her when i’m on the road, and it makes me feel better.” megan doesn’t usually have this much to say about anything, and it warms you to hear her go on and on like this. she looks down at her hands, playing with her fingernails. “i invited her to the party tomorrow, and it sucks ‘cause i know i’ve got no fucking chance.”

“i think you’re really brave for letting yourself dive in. sometimes it just feels to say it out loud, even if nothing comes from it,” manon tells her, smiling in encouragement.

“i think i’m in love,” megan whispers quietly. 

gentle snores are heard from the corner. you all peek over to see dani peacefully slumbering from her spot on the floor. 

“leave her there,” lara laughs. “we’ll deal with her complaints in the morning.”

“can i stay here tonight?” megan asks, grimacing. “i can’t tell if my stomach hurts because of the party, the game, or the fact that i’m super down bad.”

“always,” you offer a nod of reassurance. 

manon and megan shuffle in to fit into the other bed, and lara joins you in yours. dani’s quiet snores are somehow extremely comforting. 

“thanks for letting me talk about it, guys,” megan thanks you quietly. manon smiles and the two turn back-to-back in the bed.

lara’s eyes are warm, still fixed on yours as you face each other in the tight squeeze into your twin bed. you close your eyes and curl up, lara resting her chin on the top of your head as she hugs you from the front. you feel your entire body melt into her.

her voice is gentle, and infinitely tender as she murmurs into your hair. 

“y/n y/ln, i’m in love with you.”

“ugh. i want that,” manon groans from the bed. 

you don’t open your eyes. lara’s voice lingers in your ears. what a beautiful song to fall asleep to. 

-

the party the next day is 10x as insane as the girls initially told you it would be. bodies everywhere, volume threatening to split your eardrums. jordan has tried to call you at least twice to make final arrangements before her wedding in two days, but each time you try to find an empty room, you’ve found either yunjin and her girlfriend making out, a random group snorting something off a table, or a screaming couple in the middle of a fight. you make your way back downstairs and decide your sister can wait.

besides, it’s one of your last times getting to play house with lara. perfect and confident lara, who lights up as soon as she spots you coming back downstairs, handing you back the drink she had so dutifully been watching over.

“watch watch watch,” lara pulls you in, motioning over to the corner. “i think the baby is trying to make a move.”

you see your favorite awkward ginger and a cute little sorority girl in the corner of the room, trying to speak over the pounding loud music. you instantly recognize the body language between the two of them.

“uh, wrong. that girl is trying to make a move, and megan is in fight or flight.” you laugh, taking a sip from your drink. “except she’s doing neither, and instead she’s freezing.”

“okay, whatever, no more national geographic. let’s go get drunk,” lara grins devilishly, snaking an arm around your waist before she pulls you over towards a circle where daniela is holding some frat boy friend of hers hostage and getting him to drive the boat as she screams in laughter. 

you’re still worried about baby megan though, until you see the familiar figure of her tutor slipping out the door, the ginger following soon after. you give them a few moments but they don’t come back in together. either megan will have a lot to share tomorrow morning, or you’ll have a lot for lara to ask about.

daniela comes around to everyone in the circle, pouring shots out into each of their mouths from the bottle of hennessy she’s got gripped. you laugh at the antics of the team captain. lara pulls you closer and you’re transfixed by the smell of her perfume, the softness of her hair on your bare shoulders as she anchors you close to her to dance.

you don’t mind getting lost in her, maybe this once. 

you’re not sure how much time has passed of you two dancing, locked in your own little world, before dani is pouring shots out again, clearly trying to get rid of whatever of the bottle is left. 

“where’s the baby?” dani asks as she gets to lara, pouring the shot and assessing the room around her. 

“i saw her going outside like a half hour ago. hasn’t come back,” you inform her.

lara swallows down the shot and makes quick work of pulling out her phone, never once letting go of your waist. “it looks like she’s walking back from campus.”

you do the math. 20 minute walk to campus, she left 30 mins ago and is already heading back to you guys. 10 minutes with tutor girl? maybe you won’t ask her about what she got up to tonight or why she was gone. you guys chat a little longer before the ginger in question pops back in through the door, making her way to you guys with a frazzled expression.

“hi puppy dog,” lara welcomes her back, teasing grin on her face. “how was it?”

megan shakes her head, clearly disoriented. “i don’t even know any more.”

“i know how to fix it,” daniela reassures her, before dragging out a table in the middle of the circle you guys are in and dragging a few randoms to surround it. she lifts up the empty hennessy bottle before placing it on its side flat on the table. she cheers, stealing a cup from the girl next to her and downing its contents in one easy go. “spin that fuckin’ bottle, baby!” 

lara laughs and holds her cup up to yours. your buzz has already set in, and you want to be coherent to get you all home that night, but one quick knock back won’t kill you. you grimace as you tap cups with her but swallow it down. daniela grins and cheers' her own cup against megan’s forehead (much to the younger girl’s displeasure) before screaming loudly about how the game is about to start. 

lara is laughing along with you at dani’s antics. “she gives the hockey players such a bad fucking rep.”

for a split second, you second guess not inviting daniela to the wedding– if all went south, dani would know exactly how to create an incredible distraction as you ran away.

but instead, you have to be brave and face it head on.

with lara, you remember, and your chest loosens at the thought. you’re grateful it gets to be with her at your side. 

“hanni pham, meet baby megs,” daniela beams, and you realize the bottle is pointing directly at your adopted ginger daughter. lara can’t stop laughing, and you get it– megan looks like she’s about to shit herself.

hanni, a cheerleader who you met in your communications class, seems to love the hollering of the circle as she struts over and plants a quick peck on the corner of megan’s mouth. dani is screaming at the top of her lungs for her to do more, but megan’s strong hands keep a polite placement on her shoulders to distance the two of them. 

“thank you, um for that, but i’m good for the night,” the ginger wrinkles her nose sheepishly. “gonna go wait in the car.”

“another boundary,” lara emphasizes, turning to you, and the both of you laugh.

“our baby girl is so, so grown up,” you fake-cry, slipping a hand into the furthest pocket of her jacket. she pulls you in closer and the two of you realize each time you say something to each other, you miss what happens in the outside world. how beautiful to get to disappear away from it all with just a look.

the group is staring expectantly at you as you realize daniela’s on the couch, the swedish exchange student from your calculus class perched comfortably on her lap, the two of them oblivious to the world through their frenzied make out. you were next in line, thus it now being your turn.

you comply nervously, terrified to get paired with some gross stranger, but lara, perfect, confident lara, off one too many shots, reaches down to stop it with her thumb, causing it to land on her. you hear some groans, but a majority of the people in the group cheer you on, chanting your name as lara turns to face you, not once letting go of her grip on you.

your throat goes dry at the look she gives you. her dark eyes twinkling, her beautiful rich skin, shining from the heat of the party and the alcohol running through both of your veins.

“come here baby,” she beckons, smiling widely at you, bringing the hand not on your waist up to your neck. your skin tingles at the contact.  “been wanting to kiss you all night, you’re so pretty.”

you have two choices: push back and make an excuse, or commit. and with all the bravery in the world, the bravery that perfect lara raj gives you, you’re able to push past the what-if’s and let yourself crash into her. 

the kiss, tasting softly of lara’s gum and the drinks you’ve shared, is electrifying. you’ve never once allowed yourself to wander that far into imagining what kissing lara would be like, and you’re almost grateful. nothing could compare to how perfect kissing perfect, incredible lara raj would be. she’s confident and assertive, letting her tongue brush against your lower lip, your mind going absolutely blank as she tightens her grip on your waist. 

“how was that?” she asks with a grin, and the rest of the world is lost to you guys once more.

“how do you think it was?” you ask back breathlessly, unable to form words beyond that.

“perfect,” she whispers, the smile she has threatening to split her mouth.

“okay,” you breathe. you can still feel the tingle of her lips on yours. 

you don’t mention it once the hour is late and megan is dragging a half-slumped daniela into the car with you guys while lara offers a ride to meg’s crush’s little roommates. you don’t say a word about it as lara drops belle and minji off, then presses a kiss to your temple when she drops you and megan off at your building, insisting she can keep daniela in her room to keep an eye on her. you fall back into your bed after a quick shower, the feeling still lingering. 

the end is near, and you know it. you decide you won’t think about it, and fall asleep.

-

you wake up to a knock on the door. you rise with a slight headache, letting out a quiet groan, before you peek out the peephole and recognize a flash of bright orange hair.

“can you help me?” megan asks fervently as you let her in. she holds up various materials: paper, pens, an envelope, and a bright red ticket. “i want to make something for someone, but i feel so fucking lost as to where to start.”

“you want to invite her to the game tonight?” you ask, connecting the dots.

“yes,” her eyes light up. “i’m giving her my spare ticket. front row, so she can see us.”

“the one you think you’re in love with?” you smile, loving the enthusiasm. 

“i think i want to say something, or at least try.” megan nods, confidently for the first time since you’ve known her, and drops her voice into a sigh.  “you don’t know how special it is to feel seen for yourself.”

“oh, i do,” you breathe, memories of the past two weeks taking over your head. you rub a reassuring circle into her back as she parks herself at your desk. you head over to the bathroom to take down your hair and start your morning routine. “say what you feel. i’ll stay with you if you’re nervous.”

“your sister’s wedding is tomorrow, right?” megan clarifies, looking up from the desk. “what happens after that? between you and lar.”

you feel a pang in your stomach. 24 hours left in your little charade, and now, you don’t know how to untangle everything you’ve intertwined with her. you feel your smile threaten to fall, but you try to put on a brave front for the concerned younger girl. “don’t worry about that. focus on you.”

“i don’t think you should end it so fast,” she responds, her eyes softening. you hate the way her puppy dog eyes pierce straight into your heart. “you guys have something really amazing there.”

“it’s not real,” you remind her.

“looks pretty real to me,” she tells you back simply, and it lingers with you. you shake it off and approach her to start braiding her hair for the game. 

-

lara has to do follow-up interviews with dani and the team following their championship win, and she promises to make it on the first flight out to your hometown. you’re kind of grateful she misses the rehearsal dinner, since manon does nothing but gush about how beautifully in love you and lara is and how she’s certain you guys will be doing this in no time. jordan, suspicious of you until manon opens her mouth, simply presses a kiss into your temple.

“happy you’re happy, sis. maybe the quiet ones do win every once in a while.”

lara stays at a hotel instead of with you and your parents in order to give you guys somewhere to drop the act. you find it increasingly difficult to remember what it used to be like before the touches, before the embraces, before falling asleep together every night. 

she looks so beautiful in her incredible dress and your dad can’t stop gushing over what a peach she is. your step-mom, who never approves of anything you do, doesn’t look completely unimpressed by the gorgeous date you’re seated with. you’ll take it as a win.

the ceremony goes off without a hitch, and you make it to the reception dinner in one piece. halfway through the night without incident is a huge win. and lara, perfect, charming lara, is making friends with every person she introduces herself to, a cheeky compliment for every aunt of yours in their sunday best or every cousin asking suspiciously if you’re actually together. she finds the perfect balance of affection, not too much to be overdoing it, but just enough to keep you feeling calmed throughout the night. 

“you play hockey with y/n?” your stepmom asks as she and your dad join you at the table with lara and manon as you all eat. you bite back a groan, considering you’ve explained a million times that you don’t play, just help treat the players.

“i play goalie, yes,” lara smiles good-naturedly.  “y/n basically is there to patch us up after every game. contact sports can take quite the toll on the body.”

“what do you want to do with hockey?” your dad asks curiously. you can see your sister and your new brother-in-law dancing like idiots behind him on the dancefloor and let out a content sigh. somehow, lara is carrying herself without a single bit of help needed, and it soothes your anxious nerves.

“reminisce about it fondly when i’m old and grey,” lara laughs. “i just finished this sophomore season, so i’ve got two more seasons playing collegiate, and that’s it for me and hockey. after i graduate, i’m going to do a fellowship with a clinic.”

“physical therapy, like y/n?” manon asks curiously.

“marriage and family therapy. i want to be a therapist. i would love to work with student athletes.”

“no way,” you breathe quietly. how has lara never mentioned this? she had started school as a business major.

“my friends have a hard time balancing school and sports and some of them are really hurting over it. i’ve always been lucky enough to have good grades.”

“nobody should ever have to pick something they love over their wellbeing,” your step-mom says to no-one in particular, and you swear there’s something like approval in her eyes.

“lara is an extremely nurturing person,” you tell your dad in particular. “i think she’ll make a huge impact in whatever she does.”

“well, miss raj, i hope y/n doesn’t hide you away from us any more. i’d love to see you around more often,” he smiles, and you two exchange a glance.

“that’s up to y/n, isn’t it?” she asks, something twinkling in her eyes.

“i’m certainly thinking about it,” you smile back. the night is won.

you come back with her to her hotel room so you can celebrate the victory in peace, without worrying about your family overhearing. 

“did i kill it, or did i destroy it?” she beams excitedly, kicking her heels off as she swipes one of the shots from the minibar in the fridge. “that went so fucking smooth.”

“you were perfect.” you could cry. perfect, angelic lara raj, making the impossible happen. a weight is lifted off your shoulders.

“i told you parents really like me,” she beams brightly, swooping you up in both arms to snake her arms around your waist and pull you in to a hug. 

“everyone really likes you,” you laugh, pushing her back, but her arms stay locked around you. you could push again, but you don’t want to.

she’s never held you like this, behind closed doors. you don’t know what possesses you to let her. memories of your kiss from spin the bottle race through your mind. you feel your mouth go dry as you realize what your body is seeking– it wants to kiss her again.

“all that matters is what you think about me,” she tells you.

you simply hum in response, feeling her hands trace lower on your hips.

“hey, y/n,” she whispers into your ear, the warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “remember how when this all started, you wanted me to tell you if things ever got too blurry?”

you nod, your words caught in your throat. you barely manage to get anything out. “it’s over now, don’t worry.”

“that’s the issue. it’s supposed to be over, but…” she trails off, her fingers tracing circles into your back. she looks away, but you feel a sudden wave of bravery take over you, and you reach around her neck to trace gentle lines into her nape. her eyes come back to you, dark and hooded.

“tell me,” you press gently, and the room feels like it might collapse in on you both.

“lines are a little blurry,” lara breathes.

“i think i’m okay with that, if you are,” you whisper back.

“you already know what i think,” lara says, almost as an accusation. but then she’s reaching for the zipper on the back of your dress, eyes flickering to you as if to ask for permission.

you push past your own thoughts and let yourself capture her lips with your own, an answer to her question. you won’t overthink it, not this time.

-

you wake to an empty bed, the smell of lara’s skin still lingering on the sheets. you inhale deeply as you try to hear for the shower in the bathroom, maybe her voice if she’s in the hallway on the phone. but as you hear nothing, you sit up, and realize lara’s belongings are all completely gone. she left without letting you know? after all that? you can’t wrap your head around a viable explanation, so you reach for your phone. among the texts from your friends and family, you see lara’s contact, a text from 30 minutes ago.

changed my flight. i added late check out so don’t worry about overstaying. we can talk when you’re back on campus. be safe.

you see the next notification.

6 missed calls. 

all from felix.

you feel your heart sink. lara has always been a light sleeper, first to rise at the slightest noise. you can only imagine what she must’ve felt seeing his contact pop up over and over, so insistently, as if he’s even entitled to your attention any more. your heart aches at the thought of lara’s confusion. 

(that’s not to even touch on your own confusion– where does all this leave the two of you?)

you call her immediately.

“lara,” you say, and it’s like a warning and a question all in one. “i haven’t talked to him since the breakup. i don’t know what he wants, and i don’t care.”

the line is silent for a moment, and you’re caught off guard. you can hear the airport PA system from behind her, but you’re more surprised at how quiet she is. lara, confident and forward, always has something thoughtful and ready to say, forever the model of composure. she finally lets something out, and you feel your heart break all over again. 

“i know you, y/n, and i wasn’t ready to hear you tell me it was over.” she confesses, and her voice sounds so, so painful over the phone. you wish you could wrap her in your arms then and there. “i got lost in it, i know i did, maybe it was selfish because you just got out of something serious, and i wanted you to myself.”

“lar, i’m sorry. what are you thinking right now?” you ask, but you quickly realize it’s the wrong question. her tone changes quickly, faster now, almost insistent.

“no, y/n, please stop. you do this thing, where you won’t give a clear answer. you’ll just ask questions and put all the options out on the table and let people draw their own conclusions.”

“here’s my clear answer,” lara continues. “you are my favorite person on this planet, and i’m so serious about that. so i want to hear it from your mouth. i want to hear what you pick, no bullshit, no yielding to let me make the final choice. with a super clear head, i want you to pick me, or not pick me, knowing all the facts and hearing me say it first. you need to have the final say in something for your life.” 

you’re in complete shock, staring into the mirror as she presses forward, her voice firm over the hum of the phone.

“i won’t hate you, if you don’t pick me,” she tells you, voice softening, always the reassuring one. “but i wanted to make sure you knew that i’d pick you if it came down to it, and i’ll be waiting patiently for you to pick me. just how i always have.”

“lar…”

“think about it,” is all she says, before the line goes dead, and you’re left alone with your thoughts. 

the airport makes you sick to your stomach and all you want to do is just talk to lara, but you know she deserves more thought than just your anxious impulse. a clear head, and no hesitation. you owe it to lara.

a day of traveling later, and you’ve dragged your bags with you to the hockey rink. megan, yunjin, and dani are all there, taking practice shots into the net even though the season won’t start up again until the fall time. 

you see lara’s gear on the bench, but she’s nowhere on the ice to be seen. you hunt a little further to see her in the very top nosebleed seats of the stadium, watching the three practice intensely. you don’t hesitate before racing up the seats, and your stomach drops as she locks eyes on you. her eyes are distant, cold even, but you can’t blame her. she deserves answers.

“i need to tell you something,” you press, sitting down in the seat next to her. 

she lets out a quiet breath and turns to face you. you reach out, holding her face in your hands, and your heart aches. she is so impossibly perfect. the truth, as much as it terrifies you, is the least she deserves.

“that night, our kiss, the past two weeks, it meant everything to me,” you admit, your voice shaky. “maybe i’m worried that i’ll lose you as a friend, if we take this leap, but we tried on these hats and it was honestly the most perfect experience ever. and you are so, so perfect, it would be impossible to not want to be with you, and i’m sorry i was such a coward about what i asked of you without acknowledging what it meant for us. it was unfair and it was confusing.”

her eyes warm, but you drop your hands. you have something more to add, the part she truly does deserve, and the part you’ve been too afraid to confront. you continue, your heart threatening to leap out of your chest.

“i need to choose myself, for just a little bit. i’m not going to ask if that’s okay, because i know you’d tell me it is even if it isn’t,” you tell her, and she laughs quietly in response. you take it as the encouragement you need to keep going. “i'm going to be alone for a little bit, i won’t go back to my ex, i won’t find someone new, i just need to be alone to figure some things out, and i’m going to tell you to go do your thing and not wait up for me. if we can be friends through it, that would be amazing, but if not, i won’t hate you either.”

you drop your head slightly to meet her gaze. she’s looking up at you with something in between heartache and pride, and you know exactly how she feels. there’s something painfully bittersweet about the moment.

“i need just a little time to learn how to be a better me, and then it’ll be my turn to come ask you to pick me,” you whisper, tracing your finger across her lips, your favorite lips, before resting your hand on her cheek once more. “and i’ll be okay if you don’t pick me, or if by then you’ve picked someone else.”

“i’m proud of you for this,” she says simply, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into a hug. 

you feel hot tears pricking at your eyes, but you manage to smile at her anyways. the end of one chapter, the start of another, you can only hope.

-

your dad has asked about lara every single time you call for the past few months, and you simply navigate around the question with expert precision. you can’t tell him everything, but you can tell him parts of the truth.

we get to see each other every day. we’re still the team moms. daniela still conspires to make us get married. we’re going to see each other over the summer once the semester ends.

you won’t tell him about how your sleepovers have stopped, and you guys haven’t been alone together in a room since the day after the wedding. she’s still so, so nice to you, but there’s a boundary now.

it’s not awkward, as much as you know things could have ended in disaster. perfect, generous lara raj, who’s always put your friendship ahead of whatever feelings have come up for her, doesn’t flirt with you any more, but still makes an effort to make you feel seen. 

manon, who you got so close to that she moved in as your dorm roommate, is shockingly understanding as you come clean and tell her everything. nobody makes the dissolution of your fake relationship weird, and your family is none the wiser. you come out relatively unscathed from the whole thing, the only casualty being you and lara. your friendship is different, you guys aren’t as close, but that’s okay, because she’s still in your life, and that in itself is more than enough. 

except for tonight, two weeks before finals, where you decide it’s the night to put into practice all the growing you’ve done to stop being so scared of the what-if’s. it’s your turn to be confident and brave, and let the potential win outweigh the risks.

you feel your stomach lurch as you call her, the starting part of your plan. you guys don’t do this any more, the late night phone calls, so you’re half expecting to have to pivot to a plan b, but she answers by the second ring.

“y/n,” she says simply, and you feel your stomach flip at how genuinely excited she sounds. what an angel.

“hi,” you breathe. “um, just curious about your plans tonight.”

“what’s up?” she asks, half-curious, half-suspicious in her tone.

“are you free?” you ask again.

“for you?” she asks, and you half-expect her to turn you down then and there. but she doesn’t and her soft tone makes your heart thud. “always.”

“no, don’t start,” you wrinkle your nose. “i’m supposed to be the one trying to charm you.”

“charm me? why?” she asks, and you can practically hear the smirk on her lips. ugh, it was almost easier when you guys were back to being just friends. you wouldn’t get this flustered this easily.

“i want to see you when i say it.” you shake your head, feeling the familiar flush that lara leaves you with. “damn, you’re throwing me off. ugh, lara, okay just, come to your car.”

“my car?”

“i have your keys, before you freak out. dani helped me. so just come to the car and be patient.”

you hang up, and you wait eagerly. grand gestures aren’t your thing, but they’re lara’s, so you figure she deserves something that reflects how well you know her.

she arrives, and you can’t suppress your smile as she takes it all in. her car, filled to the brim with pink balloons, three different bouquets of flowers in the passenger’s seat. you’ve decorated it with pictures of the two of you from your years of friendship, including countless of candids taken by the girls of the two of you together. on the dashboard, you have a giant, handwritten sign with pictures of lara’s face, and in big bold letters: #17, GO OUT WITH ME?

her eyes are wide, and you wonder if you’ve maybe gone too far with everything. in the months since the wedding, you guys have stayed friends, sure, but maybe you misread her? maybe this wasn’t the grand gesture you thought it would be?

“y/n…” lara starts, before offering you an apologetic furrow of her brows. “i have a girlfriend.”

you feel your stomach sink. you’ve deleted your instagram since all this happened, and you and lara don’t talk about those kinds of things any more, plus megan was so heartbroken about you guys not ending up together, it’s super possible she didn’t want to mention the new relationship to you. plus plus, daniela’s terrible with secrets, so why would she help you with this whole thing in the first place,  but she can absolutely show up when she needs to– damn. your shot disappears in front of your very eyes.

“oh my god, lar, i’m so sorry. i um–” you stammer.

she’s staring at you with those dark eyes, before a stupid grin takes over her stern features. “hah! see, told you you should have jumped on me sooner.”

you feel your eyes nearly bug out of your head. oh my god. 

“what do you think i’m going to say to you right now?” you nearly growl, your heart still pounding at the near miss.

lara screams laughing, nearly doubling over as she pokes a finger into your cheek. your skin jumps at the contact. “hopefully you’ll say, kiss me and be mine, no more waiting.”

you sigh and take her face in both hands, emboldened by your new outlook on life. no more being afraid.

“lara raj, i’m sorry for making you wait. thank you for being so, so perfect, and letting me be ready for you. i’d like to love you for a really long time, if that’s–” you pause, realizing you were about to ask for her permission.

you clear your throat and look her directly in the eyes. “you better let me love you until the earth blows up.”

“i like that so much better than what i thought you’d up with,” she beams brightly, opening the door to he car and sitting in the drivers seat, motioning for you to come towards her.

“i bet you do,” you laugh, letting her pull you into her lap.

“told you we’d fall in love eventually,” she grins cheekily.

you sigh and press a fingertip against her nose. “actually, i was in love with you way before all this. just needed to figure some things out.”

for the first time since you’ve known her, lara raj is speechless. 

“got your fine ass,” you grin, before you lean in. “now that you’ve shut up, i’m going to kiss you.”

“you were so, so worth the wait,” she whispers, and you let yourself believe her. the girl of your dreams, perfect and confident lara raj, and she’s finally yours.

[cineatros]

٠࣪⭑ star lover

٠࣪⭑ pairing: lara raj x reader ٠࣪⭑ about: Lara, Katseye’s stunning vocalist, lives for the stage — and for you. What starts as a passing glance at a concert spirals into a dark obsession. Behind her perfect smile hides a dangerous secret: she'll lie, stalk, and destroy anyone who gets between you and the life she’s decided you’ll share. To Lara, you’re not just a fan. You’re hers — and she’ll do anything to keep it that way. ٠࣪⭑ genre: psychological thriller, thriller, romance. ٠࣪⭑ cw: obsession, stalking, language, drugs, alcohol, kidnapping. ٠࣪⭑ wc: 2.4k words ٠࣪⭑ tune in: paparazzi by lady gaga ٠࣪⭑ a/n: i kinda copied joe's glass room where he kept hostage his lovers and also this is an open ending, y'all be the one deciding if you want y/n get killed (like beck did), or got escaped with the help of sophia lol.

You were never the type to stan a group. In fact, you thought it was pathetic—the way people threw money, time, and emotions into strangers who wouldn’t even remember their faces. After One Direction shattered your teenage heart, you swore off idols entirely. Never again, you promised yourself. Never again would you let someone you didn’t even know hurt you.

That vow lasted exactly until the moment you saw her.

It started harmlessly enough. Your sibling had another survival show playing in the living room, just background noise while you scrolled through your phone. You didn’t even look up—didn’t care—until "Buttons" by the Pussycat Dolls blasted through the speakers and something inside you shifted. You glanced at the screen—and there she was.

Curly black hair whipping around her face, voice smooth as silk, moves sharp and dripping with confidence.

You didn’t know it yet, but you were already falling.

"Who’s that?" you asked, trying and failing to sound indifferent as your pulse hammered in your ears. Your sibling smirked knowingly. "I thought you don’t stan groups anymore?"

"I can make an exception," you muttered.

And just like that, you were gone.

You streamed every episode, voted religiously, prayed to gods you didn’t even believe in just to hear her name called during the final lineup. Daniela. Your bias. Your exception. Your secret.

When they finally debuted as Katseye, you were first in line — albums, merch, concert tickets you couldn’t afford—all for a girl who didn’t even know you existed. Or so you thought.

The night of the concert, something changed.

You didn’t dress flashy. You didn’t scream. You just existed—wide-eyed, genuine, different. And Lara Raj—Katseye’s glittering main vocalist—noticed. She noticed the way you lit up the moment Daniela walked by, the gravitational pull you couldn't hide if you tried.

It should’ve ended there. Just another fan interaction. Another fleeting spark in a sea of millions.

But Lara was different.

She didn’t ask for your number. She didn’t have to. She played it smarter. Patiently, methodically, she combed through Daniela’s followers, fan accounts, tagged posts—until she found you. Your profile was public. Wide open. So beautifully reckless.

Lara smiled when she clicked ‘Follow’ on her burner account. And from that moment on, she watched.

She devoured your life one post at a time—your late-night rants, your drunken party selfies, your lonely 3AM tweets about feeling invisible. You were an open book, and Lara read every word.

The club was her idea.

You had posted a story — a shot glass, a tagged location dangerously close to the arena. It wasn’t hard to drag Manon and Daniela along under the excuse of running errands. They didn’t ask questions. They never did.

Inside, the bass thudded through her chest as Lara scanned the crowd. Sweaty bodies blurred together, but you were crystal clear—swaying, laughing, drunk enough to stumble but still devastatingly beautiful.

Lara’s throat went dry. She grabbed Daniela’s wrist and shoved her forward. "Go. Say hi," she ordered.

Daniela, sweet and oblivious, approached you with a smile that made your knees weak. Lara watched the way you lit up, the way you leaned closer instinctively. Everyone would think it was Daniela you needed. Even you.

But Lara knew better.

It wasn’t Daniela. It was her.

She slid seamlessly into the conversation with Manon in tow, pretending it was a coincidence. When your wide, disbelieving eyes met hers, Lara felt it—the click. The spark.

You didn’t know it yet, but you were already hers.

After that night, Lara started seeing you everywhere. Or rather, she put herself everywhere you would be.

She watched every Weverse Live, heart pounding when your username popped up. She saved your blurry mirror selfies. Memorized your Spotify playlists. She knew your favorite drink when you were happy and when you were sad. She knew your favorite color (not just blue—a deep, tragic blue).

She knew your loneliness. She knew your craving to be seen.

And Lara? Lara saw you.

Because real love—real, consuming love—wasn’t about waiting politely. It was about claiming what was yours.

The signs started small.

She would answer your Weverse questions within seconds. Casually mention a song you had posted about just hours earlier. You chalked it up to fate. Harmless.

Because what were the odds that someone like Lara Raj would even know you existed?

You didn’t know that she was already following you. Already memorizing you.

She sat two tables behind you at your favorite cafe every Saturday morning, hidden behind a hoodie and sunglasses, sipping coffee slowly, savoring the proximity.

You never noticed.

You were too busy posting another photo of your croissant and latte. Lara smiled behind her cup.

You had no idea what real love looked like.

But you would.

The bookstore was next.

You posted about your "safe haven," and when you arrived, Lara was already there—flipping through a poetry collection she knew you loved.

You bumped into her, literally, and apologized, laughing shyly. You didn’t even recognize her—not under the hoodie and glasses.

"Maybe we were meant to meet," she said with a tilt of her head, voice low and sweet.

That night, you posted about the encounter: "Met someone today who felt like a character from a book. Strange...but nice."

Lara liked the post from her burner account, then sat back in her darkened hotel room, your photo open on her phone, thumb caressing your face through the glass.

It escalated.

You posted about a food truck festival. She was already there when you arrived.

You went to a pop-up thrift store three cities away. She found you there, flipping through vinyl records.

It was starting to feel...wrong.

But flattering too.

Because why would someone like Lara chase you?

You told yourself not to think too hard. You deserved good things.

You didn’t see the warning signs.

Until one night, during a Weverse Live, Lara laughed and said, almost casually, "You really shouldn’t leave your windows unlocked. It’s dangerous, you know."

Your heart stopped.

Because you had forgotten to lock your window that night.

You pulled away after that. Stopped posting. Stopped answering.

But Lara didn’t like that.

One night, you came home late, exhausted. You didn’t notice the faint smell of her perfume. You didn’t notice the slightly ajar closet door—until it creaked.

Your blood ran cold.

You turned—and she stepped out. Calm. Smiling.

"Hey," she said softly. "I missed you."

You backed away, heart slamming against your ribs.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you gasped.

Her smile faltered, just for a second.

"You wouldn’t answer me," she said, voice trembling—not with fear, but with rage held tightly in check. "You don’t understand. I’m the only one who truly sees you."

You ran.

But you weren’t fast enough.

She grabbed you from behind, arms iron-strong, whispering into your ear, "No more running, baby. I’m here now."

And nobody heard your screams.

Because Lara had planned this night down to the last detail.

When you woke up, the world was lavender-scented. Soft. Fake.

You were chained to a bed.

And Lara was there, sitting beside you, carrying a tray of your favorite breakfast — because she knew everything about you.

"Eat," she cooed, brushing your hair back. "I know you’re scared. But you’ll see. In time...you’ll love me."

She punished you with silence when you resisted. Rewarded you with soft touches and laughter when you obeyed. Slowly, she filled every corner of your world until you needed her to break the silence.

Until even your nightmares wore her face.

When you finally escaped—slipping through a forgotten window—you thought you had won.

You ran barefoot through the night, found a road, flagged down a car—only to find her waiting behind the wheel.

She smiled as she jabbed the needle into your neck.

"You can’t run from me," she whispered as darkness swallowed you.

You woke up back in her bed.

Back in her arms.

And this time, you understood.

There was no escape.

Not from Lara Raj.

Not from love.

Sophia had always known there was something different about Lara.

At first, she told herself it was nothing. Lara was just...private. Everyone in the group had their quirks. But lately, Lara’s absences had become impossible to ignore. Recording would finish late into the evening, their bodies sore from dance practice, and while the others collapsed into their beds with tired laughter, Lara would slip away. Unannounced. Unbothered.

Sophia noticed the first few times by accident—the quiet sound of their door clicking shut at odd hours. Midnight. Two in the morning. Then the pattern became clearer. Every night, after practice, Lara would disappear.

She tried asking casually once, a joke tossed between the bedposts. “Hey, are you meeting your secret boyfriend or something?” But Lara just laughed it off, her smile too tight, too quick to fade.

It gnawed at Sophia. The unanswered questions, the empty bed across the room, the air of secrets Lara left behind.

Until one night, Sophia couldn’t take it anymore.

She waited up, pretending to scroll through her phone as the clock ticked past one-thirty. Her eyes burned from exhaustion. Around two a.m., like clockwork, she heard it: the faint rustle of movement. Lara, slipping into a hoodie, tugging a baseball cap low over her face.

Sophia’s heart hammered in her ears as she threw on a jacket and followed, careful to leave enough distance between them.

The night was cold, the streets breathing with the quiet hum of neon signs and faraway traffic. Lara moved fast, head down, blending into the shadows. Sophia’s nerves tightly stretched with every step, her mind racing ahead. Where could she be going? A lover’s place? An underground club?

But none of her guesses prepared her for where Lara led her.

A storage facility.

The massive rows of units loomed under harsh fluorescent lights, endless and cold. Sophia hung back behind a corner, watching Lara punch in a code at one of the rusted gates. The roll-up door groaned as it lifted, just enough for her to slip inside.

Sophia hesitated.

This was insane. She should turn back. Pretend she saw nothing. But her feet moved on their own, drawn by a force stronger than her fear. Curiosity. Or maybe, something deeper. Some fragile thread tethered to Lara she couldn’t bear to snap.

She crept inside.

The air smelled of dust and oil. Corridors stretched out in every direction, endless rows of locked units. Sophia’s heart pounded louder than her footsteps. She glanced around, desperate to spot Lara—then she saw it.

An open door. A soft sliver of light spilling onto the concrete floor.

Sophia swallowed hard and edged closer.

And that’s when she saw you.

Inside a glass room.

It didn’t make sense at first—her brain scrambled to process what she was seeing. A bed, neatly made. A bookshelf lined with worn novels. A typewriter perched on a small wooden desk. And in the center of it all...you.

Alive.

Trapped.

You stirred when she knocked on the glass, your eyes fluttering open, disoriented. For a moment, hope flashed across your face—you thought she was someone else. Then your gaze met hers, panic blooming immediately. You scrambled to your feet, pressing your palms to the glass, mouthing something Sophia couldn’t hear.

Help me.

Sophia’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands fumbled for the door, trying to find a lock, anything—

A shadow fell across her.

"You shouldn't have followed me, Soph," came Lara's voice, low and strangely calm.

Sophia whirled around.

Lara stood behind her, arms folded across her chest, her expression unreadable. In the fluorescent light, she didn’t look like Lara, Sophia knew. There was something sharper about her now. Harder. The kind of sharp that could cut.

“Lara…” Sophia choked out. “What the hell is this? Who is she? Why—?”

"You weren’t supposed to see this," Lara said simply, stepping closer. “You should have just minded your own business.”

Sophia stumbled back, her mind reeling. She kept glancing between Lara and the glass prison behind her, as if it would rearrange itself into something more logical if she just blinked enough times.

"You..." Sophia’s voice broke. "You kidnapped someone?"

Lara’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t deny it.

"It’s not like that," she said after a moment. "You wouldn’t understand."

"Then make me understand!" Sophia shouted, her hands trembling.

Lara hesitated, and for the first time that night, something flickered across her face—something close to regret.

"She’s... important," Lara said finally. "I’m protecting her."

"Protecting her?!" Sophia gestures wildly at the glass room. "She’s locked up like a goddamn zoo exhibit, Lara!"

"You don’t know what’s out there," Lara hissed. Her voice cracked at the edges, a raw desperation Sophia had never heard before. "You don’t know what they’d do to her if they found her. She’s safer here."

Sophia shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. "You’re sick. You’re sick and you need help."

The words tasted like betrayal in her mouth. She wanted to take them back the second she saw how Lara flinched. How she looked, for a fleeting moment, like she was breaking too.

"You’re just like everyone else," Lara said quietly. "You look at me and you see a monster."

Sophia pressed a hand to her mouth, heart breaking in a thousand different ways. Because she didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to believe that the girl who made her laugh during rehearsals, who shared midnight snacks with her on the dorm floor, who sat beside her on long bus rides with sleepy smiles—that girl could also be capable of this.

But here they were.

The glass. The locks. The lies.

"You need to go," Lara said finally, her voice hollow. She turned away, shoulders tense with grief she didn’t bother to hide. "Before you make things worse."

Sophia staggered back a step, the weight of it all crushing her lungs.

And then she turned and ran.

It wasn’t over.

A week passed.

Sophia stayed silent, terrified, paralyzed by the choice in front of her. If she spoke, if she told someone—it could ruin Lara’s life. Their careers. Their safety. But if she said nothing...

The girl in the glass room would stay trapped.

Sleep became impossible. Food tasted like ash. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw your face, wide with terror, mouthing silent cries for help.

On the seventh night, Sophia made her decision.

She waited again until two a.m., heart thrumming painfully in her ribs. She pulled on a hoodie, slid into sneakers, and crept out while the others slept.

This time, she wasn’t going to watch.

She was going to end it.

[luvseraphh]

your favorite thing to write for is chronically ill reader you say... 😏

been thinking lately about chronicallyill!gn!reader experiencing burnout x lara being mentally burnt out from all the actually insane bullying directed at her lately, her and reader literally just collapse on each other and cuddle and enjoy each other's company 🥺 <3 reader running their hand through lara's hair and lara playing with reader's other hand/petting their arm, just being sweet and affectionate with each other, one of them says something silly and they both just start laughing uncontrollably, UGHH explodes

recharging.

⊹ synopsis. after a long week, you and your girlfriend take some much needed time to recharge together.

⊹ content warnings. gn!reader, chronically ill!reader, fluff, comfort, drabble

⊹ pairing. lara raj x reader

⊹ side note. OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST! I love writing for chronically ill reader and ON TOP OF THAT I've been meaning to write more for the other katseye members!!! sorry this took me so long!

the internet is mean. and that is something unfortunately your girlfriend, lara, got reminded of every single day. despite the fact that she was gorgeous and so insanely kind, the internet always found some sort of way to tear her down. and for you, your body was your worst hater. you constantly felt like you had some sort of flu, and lately, it had been worse than ever.

that's how the two of you got here. you were cuddling on lara's bed, and her dormmate, megan, was currently absent hanging out with friends. your head was on her chest, lazily tracing patterns and shapes into the visible skin of her waist. her hands carded through your hair, staring up at the ceiling as soft music filled the room.

"I hope you're not letting those comments get to you. if they can't appreciate your personality and beauty, that's their problem, not your's. remember that you always have people around who deeply love you," you say, looking up at your tired girlfriend's eyes.

"you have no idea how much I needed to hear that," lara sighed in response.

"I might have had a little idea..." you teased in response with a soft grin, the pain from your body evaporating at her presence. the relaxation and peace she brought you always made you feel better, and you had a feeling she felt the same way.

@justmylvr @lwcedribbons @im0nsaturn @dvartefox @failurewater @f0reverfaded @t0asty1 @iv-vee @mp3nai @straows @grenadehearts @hecate-frenchfries @imagine-all-the-imagines

ⓒ luvseraph 7/3/25

[rajsangels]

Poker Face - Lara Raj

Summary: After months of putting up with your shenanigans that were getting in the way of her reign at school, the student council president finally decided to teach you a lesson about playing by her rules.

Tags & Warnings: NSFW!. Fem!Reader, President!Lara, one sided enemies to (?), Lara is kind of a bitch in this one, and R is also super flirty, oral sex (L recieving), gambling, heavily inspired by netflix's new show, Bet.

w.c: 5.5 k

a/n: i took the bet and the katseye pills and this was the result 😩. Also, this was my first time writing smut so plz ignore it if it sucks

St. Dominic's Prep was not for amateurs. Called the “dream academy” by some, the preparatory school was known for its peculiar reputation: only the best of the best belonged there, either for their incredible intellect or their incredible bank account. And so, if they were the best, there was no point in following the rules set by teachers or principals.

No, no. St. Dominic's Prep operated on the basis of social hierarchy, in which students followed the orders of the most influential and powerful person among them. The one who could beat them all in the snap of a finger regardless of the type of battle.

And that was the president of the student council, Lara Raj.

The Raj name had been part of the school's high society for decades, from Lara's grandparents to her older sister, Rhea, who had graduated not long ago, leaving the queen bee position to the youngest sibling. It was the natural course of things, since it would be impossible for there to be any other student of such importance or relevance. Lara took that title for herself very seriously.

Which meant that she also had control over the school's betting system. Betting was virtually the social currency of St. Dominic's, seen as a way of measuring your chances of success in the real world. If you didn't do it, you were forgotten by the others, like an eternal wallflower. If you lost, you were treated like a pariah, a servant to people of real value. If you won, you became a god.

All the matches were accounted for in a large scoreboard that was displayed in almost every corner of the school. Guess who was in first place?

These were the rules Lara was used to. She ruled this school with an iron fist and an icy stare that was enough to make anyone wet their pants, just as all the members of her family had done for generations. No one dared to cross her path or challenge her.

No one, except you.

And that's why Lara was standing with her arms crossed, right in front of the window in the student council office, staring down in the direction of the gaming room. She would recognize your gambling mannerisms from afar, but you were easy to spot anyway, as the other students always seemed to swarm around your table like moths drawn to the flame.

Y/N Y/L. That was the name of Lara's biggest headache since the girl joined the school in the middle of the year, turning everything upside down with your continuous winning streaks, which made you look like an emerging titan in the eyes of the other students. In Lara's opinion, however, you were nothing more than a very annoying insect.

Even so, something about you kept her attention long enough for you to invade her thoughts for hours and hours. Lara's ego liked to think it was just a precautionary measure, as if the long time she spent watching you was nothing more than a study of a potential adversary. Not that she would ever admit that you could be on the same level.

Lara was a legacy student, at the top of the student ranking. You were nothing compared to her.

“If looks could kill, y/n would be dead and buried by now.”

Rolling her eyes, Lara turned to cast a piercing glance at the vice president and, well, the closest thing she could get to a friendship, Megan Skiendiel. The girl with the pink locks hardly minded the silent threat, knowing damn well that their years of friendship gave her a certain freedom when it came to Lara's wrath. This was courtesy, of course, of the friendship and partnership of their parents, who had been close since their days at the same academy.

“I don't care about her enough to kill.” Lara replied lightly, turning her gaze to the commotion downstairs with a false air of indifference. "But I need to be aware of everything that happens in this hellhole, no matter how insignificant. What are they playing anyway?”

Megan shrugged. Despite seeing through her friend's feigned disinterest, the half-Chinese girl knew better than to push Lara's buttons for too long. "Can't tell. Yoonchae?”

The two turned to the other girl in the office, Jeong Yoonchae, who seemed to be having fun twirling the tip of a dagger on the circular ebonized table, custom-made for student council meetings. Even though she was a newcomer, Yoonchae had earned her place with merit, probably following the teachings of her parents who were also legacy students. In no time at all, the Korean girl had earned her reputation at the school as a brilliant and sassy player.

The younger girl answered in a bored manner, not even bothering to take her eyes off her movements. “Strip Poker.”

Lara's brain went blank. And then all she could see was red.

Turning towards the window at a speed beyond what she could deem indifferent, Lara focused intensely in the direction of your table, now trying to notice every last detail of what was going on. At a first glance, it looked like an ordinary game of five card draw, with five cards in your hand and your opponent's, plus a deck of cards on the table. But, with a closer look, Lara could see a necklace thrown near the cards, as well as your discarded black sneakers next to your chair.

“This is absurd!” She complained, trying her best to make her voice sound less shaky. “ Do they think St. Dominic's is a place for this... this... indecency?!”

In all honesty, Lara knew the place could be even more indecent just from the stories her sister told about her own time as the president. That wasn't the first game of strip poker played at the academy and it probably wouldn't be the last, but for some reason that Lara couldn't (or wouldn't) name, that particular situation seemed very wrong.

Maybe it was because you were getting too close to the top 10 and were starting to present yourself as an even more annoying threat than usual. Your opponent certainly couldn't beat you, given that the boy (Steven, Ryan, Norman or whatever boring, masculine name he had) seemed more focused on staring at your breasts than the game itself. Lara could practically see the boy's lustful gaze from her place upstairs and it made her jaw clench.

The fact that he wasn't taking the game seriously, of course. She couldn't care less what he thought or didn't think of you, but Lara couldn't stand bad players.

She watched the audience around your table become engulfed in whispers and murmurs after another round, and the feeling of curiosity that flooded the president's chest was not welcome. Lara stretched her neck a little more to keep her eyes on your table, but what happened next made her lose her mind completely.

On the scoreboard plastered on the wall of the gaming room, the announcement of your bet flashed in black letters against the white background. Strip Poker worth 10,000. An insignificant amount for Lara, but one that would certainly boost your ranking if you won. As she did the mental calculation of what your new position would be when you eventually won, Lara saw you move around from the corner of her eye, noticing your white button-up shirt becoming more and more apparent as you shed your red uniform jacket, putting on a real show for those watching.

Feeling her own blood boiling under her skin, Lara turned on her heel like a hurricane, determined to put an end to that shit show. Strip poker wasn't even a respectable game! God, she should review her rules and make sure that it was banned from the academy. That was a game of absolute no class!

The girl stormed out of the room, missing the amused glances that passed between Megan and Yoonchae, who seemed to know exactly why the president was so much angrier than usual.

With long but determined strides, Lara marched in a straight line to the gaming room, pushing aside any idiots who threatened to interrupt her path. She could already feel the throbbing of an emerging headache in her temple, but something told her that the pain would go away as soon as that little problem was solved. Christ, Lara probably wouldn't have a headache for a year if you just decided to leave that school and go back to whatever hole you climbed out of.

“No more funny business, you morons!” Lara announced as soon as she stepped into the hall, seeing some of the students flinch in fear at her mere presence. Those who still had the idiocy to open their mouths and complain received a glare so sharp that they could almost feel the sting on their skin. "Strip Poker is now banned from St. Dominic's! This ridiculous bet between you won't count for anything.”

Anyone with their sanity intact would listen to the authority in Lara's voice and accept her orders without a second thought. However, that defiant smirk that made Lara lose her sleep every night was already on your face when you faced her, looking up from beneath your lashes. "Ms. President Raj! To what do I owe the honor?”

“I'm not in the mood for your weirdness, y/l.” Lara grunted, her eyes briefly going down to the first undone buttons of your shirt, exposing a bit of your collarbone. Somehow, that sight made her mood even worse. “End this shit now, you heard me.”

The boy, too irrelevant for Lara to remember his name, promptly got up from the table, picking up his discarded necklace and tie. “Y- you heard her, y/n.”

“Wait!” You held up a hand, drawing everyone's attention to you with your soft voice, as if you had nothing to fear. “We were already playing before the rule was made, so that means our points should still count, right?”

Lara gritted her teeth. That damn smirk on her face made her want to rip your lips off and feed it to the fish in her aquarium. No one dared to defy an order from her, especially not in public, and still hoped to come out of the interaction alive. The hall watched the two of you in a silence so grave that you could practically hear a feather falling to the floor.

“I think someone needs to teach you some manners, y/n.” The president let your name hiss out of her mouth as if it tasted like poison. In one swift movement, Lara pulled you up with a firm hand on your forearm, crumpling the long sleeve of your shirt, and used her free hand to grab your jacket from the back of the chair. “Come on, get your shoes.”

Lara squeezed your arm even tighter as soon as she heard the giggle escaping your lips, wishing she were squeezing your neck instead. You never seemed to take her seriously, or at least you didn't feel the same fear that the others did, and that made her completely livid. The brunette's veins were about to pop out of her fist at the playful way you held the sneakers in your hands. “As you wish, Ms. President.”

Completely ignoring the hushed whispers of the other students, Lara dragged you with the strength of a bull and the speed of a bullet out of the place, silently thanking you for at least being smart enough not to resist her. She flew through the hallways, never loosening her grip on your forearm and paying no attention to your bare feet racing behind her. It would be well deserved if you got hurt after such an idiotic behavior, but from what she had seen of your unpredictable personality, you would probably start laughing after cutting up your foot.

As soon as you reached your dorm (Lara knew most of the students' dorms for strategic reasons, you weren't special.) the president unceremoniously threw you into the room, closing the door behind you with a thud that could probably be heard throughout St. Dominic's. Lara turned towards you, still huffing, which only got worse when she noticed your annoying beaming smile.

“Is there a problem, Ms. President Lara Raj?”

Lara felt her heart skip a beat as she heard her own name come out of your mouth. Out of hatred, of course.

“Are you an idiot or what?” The girl advanced towards you, towering over your figure with an increasingly scowl on her face. "Strip poker? Really? You've done much better than that, y/l. Are you that desperate that you have to expose your body to the whole school for a measly ten grand?"

“Hey, tone down your slut shaming.” You frowned and for some reason Lara swallowed the scream she was about to let out after you challenged her again. Contrary to what she expected, you didn't even take a step back at her approach and now you were so close that Lara could feel your breath on her face. "And it's still a game like any other. Slow and steady wins the race, ever heard of it?"

“Well, play something else, how about that?”

Lara huffed, completely failing in her attempt to maintain her unapproachable, nonchalant image simply because you never played by her rules. It didn't help that you were standing in front of her, carrying that same damn smirk that took her peace away, the one that seemed to tell that you knew some deep secret about her, as if you could see it under her golden brown skin.

“We don't need games with this level of indecency being played out in the hall for anyone to see.” She explained unnecessarily, straightening her posture as an old habit to look more imposing. An old trick in the Raj family's extensive book. “St. Dominic's is a serious institution with tradition.”

Bullshit. Just the week before, Daniela and Manon had thrown a pizza party at 11PM because they accidentally ordered 100 boxes via delivery. Lara hadn't asked for details, but she recalled hearing something about a mix-up with the zeros.

You shrugged, slightly lifting your chin to keep looking directly into Lara's eyes, without blinking. She could hardly remember the last time she'd had this kind of intense exchange of stares without the other person folding.

“I see.” Your soft voice answered. “Still, Ms. President, I think you owe me a game after the interruption earlier.”

“ Excuse me?”

That damn giggle echoed in the silent dorm again, just like it did in Lara's dreams, which were more like nightmares, really. Lara watched as you took a few steps back towards your desk, with your hands behind your back, just like a child who was up to something. "Well, in your own words, I was desperate for points, weren't I? So I guess you owe me a game after you so rudely interrupted mine.”

“God, you really are crazy, aren't you?” Lara's voice carried a mixed tone of surprise and incredulity at your audacity. "You know I never lose, don't you? Are you so hopeless that you can't think of a strategy to climb the rankings?"

"Or maybe I just want to play with you for the thrill of it. Maybe I don't care about the ranking, or the hierarchy that everyone here seems to fear."

Lara knew very well that those words were true and perhaps that's why you, of all people, were able to get under her skin. Her eyes lingered on your curves, while you were leaning over the desk, still looking for something. She might have a lot of negative things to say about you, but your body wouldn't be one of them. Not that she was looking at your skirt like a weirdo or anything.

Finally, you seemed to find what you wanted and spun around with a triumphant smile, holding a deck of cards high in your hands without noticing that Lara's gaze quickly traveled from bottom to top. "So, Ms. President Raj? Will you play with me?”

Lara chewed the corner of her mouth as she considered the offer. She couldn't lie and say she wasn't curious about playing against you, especially after all your success as a basically unbeaten rookie. “How much?”

“Ten thousand.”

“Hm.” An almost symbolic amount if you considered the total value of Lara's winnings. Even if she lost, which wasn't going to happen, the money lost wouldn't make any difference to her position in the rankings and she'd be able to win it back in seconds. “What game?”

“Strip Poker.”

“No creativity today?” Lara retorted, pretending that the two words that came out of your mouth didn't send a shiver down your spine, especially with that devilish grin on your face.

"You said the problem with the game was indecency in public. It's just the two of us here." You shrugged, approaching the girl again with that false air of innocence that made Lara want to climb the walls. "And you owe me a game, Lara. Don't tell me that the greatest player from St. Dominic's is going to chicken out against someone who isn't even in the Top 10?"

Lara narrowed her eyes, knowing exactly what kind of game you were playing. You, on the other hand, continued to act with that same lightness that gave others the false impression that you were just a helpless girl, but Lara watched you enough to see through that front. Still, she couldn't pretend that her ego hadn't been a little bruised by the insinuation.

“Oh, well, I did say I had to teach you some manners, didn't I?” Lara rolled her eyes in her usual pose of indifference, even if she knew you wouldn't fall for it. “It's about time someone finally shut your mouth.”

“What an honor that you're going to do this for me, Ms. President.” You gave her a mock bow, but the flirtatious tone in your voice made Lara's irritation escalate so much that she could hear her own heart pumping in her ear like a time bomb.

Lara threw your jacket towards your face, suddenly remembering that she was still in possession of the garment. You grabbed it out of the air with quick reflexes, because of course you had to be good at that too. "Put your jacket back on. It's no fun playing with you if you're already practically half-naked."

"Playing fair? Huh. I must admit I wasn't expecting that from you." The tone of genuine surprise in your voice made Lara feel a twinge of pride in her chest. To be honest, even she herself didn't know why she had done it, as the Raj's motto was much more about winning at any cost than playing fair. Still, if you were a fair player, Lara had to be on your level to avoid unfounded accusations later.

Within minutes, Lara was sitting on the end of your bed while you had your back against the headboard. Following the rules of five card draw, five cards were in each of your hands and the others were arranged in a stack in the middle of the mattress, almost like a division between the two of you. That damn smirk was still on your face, but Lara was eager to wipe it off in a few seconds.

The first round went as expected. Lara smiled in triumph as she showed off her winning pair of aces, hoping to elicit some reaction from you, however small it was. All she got was a piercing stare as you unceremoniously let your jacket fall from your shoulders and onto the carpeted floor.

“No joking now?” Lara teased huskily, trying to come out on top while acting as if the very sight in front of her didn't affect her. Those damn buttons were still undone and your shirt looked messier and messier every time she looked at it.

“I'm a serious player.” You retorted, leaning over to pull more cards from the stack and showing a little more skin in the process. The raven-haired girl felt a little ashamed of herself when her breath caught at the sight of a bit of lace under your shirt, as if she were some kind of medieval man that had never seen a woman's body before.

Keep it together. You're a Raj, for fuck's sake. She focused on those words like a mantra, trying to regain her focus even with the brief moment of distraction. Still, her congested mind plus the unluckiness of a horrible hand caused Lara to lose the second round, playing a high ace against two pairs of king and queen.

Unlike Lara, you didn't seem to be interested in throwing taunting words at her, but rather in carefully watching her every move as she took off her black student council jacket, the one Lara proudly wore because it set her apart from the rest. Without the jacket, Lara could pass for any other ordinary student and, on any other day, the absence of that layer would make her feel strangely exposed. But there, under your gaze, it was as if an invisible warmth covered her.

Round three. Now Lara was in the right zone again, her brain working twice as hard after losing the previous one. She couldn't help but notice that your grin was a great poker face, but that wasn't the kind of thought she should be having at the moment. This time, her three of nines won against a pair of jacks and Lara decided to follow your lead in having a quiet victory.

With your eyes still fixed on hers, you began to undo the buttons on your shirt at a torturous pace, with a Cheshire grin on your face as if you were daring Lara to speed up the process. The girl, for her part, fought the instinct to tap her feet on the floor impatiently, not used to waiting to get what she wanted. With each new piece of skin exposed, Lara felt the fire of her anger turn into another kind of heat, one that ran down her body to the pit of her stomach.

But this heat came to a head when the entire shirt fell to the floor, revealing a lace bra in a wine-red hue, almost as if you had guessed that this was Lara's favorite color and that you would need to wear it for her that day. Her eyes, even against her will, were fixed on your hard nipples that pressed against the fabric.

“Do you like what you see, Ms. President?” You teased in that flirtatious tone that Lara hated, especially when you used it with people other than her. Not having much of an idea what to say (to be honest, Lara didn't trust her own voice at the moment), she just rolled her eyes, not bothering to disprove your words as she reached for more cards.

Lara hated to admit it, but this was probably the most interesting game of poker she'd ever played in her life, while also being the most tension-filled one, for a number of reasons. You really were a challenging opponent to read, unlike the others, and she couldn't pretend that the sight in front of her wasn't more than pleasant.

Fourth round. A pair of nines and a pair of tens. It was a close call, but somehow Lara didn't mind the loss. God, she couldn't believe that thought had crossed her mind. What had happened to Raj's always win?

Whatever. The lessons of her family were the last thing on Lara's mind right now, especially when she was busier putting on a show of opening her buttons at an even slower pace than you had done previously, almost as a kind of punishment. It was worth it just for the sight of your eyes locked on her soft skin, on the black strap of her bra that became more apparent with each new button. There, you didn't have enough of a poker face to hide the desire swimming in your gaze.

“Do you like what you see, y/l?” She retorted in a deep voice, enjoying the sweet taste of using your own words against you. However, you didn't seem as willing to hide your feelings as Lara was.

“Yes, I do.”

Lara's breathing instantly became uneven, her heart pounding as if she had run a marathon. It’s not like she wasn't used to being the object of other people's desires. Lara knew very well that she was beyond attractive and she used that to her advantage when she needed to, using the less incompetent admirers to ease her needs in a purely practical way, as a means to an end. But right there, in front of you, Lara felt much more than that.

That fervent feeling seemed to grow with each moment your eyes lingered on her body, passing over each curve with a glow that bordered between reverence and uncontrollable need. Lara couldn't help but smile with satisfaction as she realized that she too had managed to break your gambler pose. Geez, maybe she cared more about that than the entire bet at this point.

Another round. Flush of clubs against three of a kind, marking your second victory in a row. Lara barely minded the result because her hands were already flying to the side zipper of her skirt, slowly lowering it as she measured your reaction. She liked the way your pupils were dilated, attentive to the movement of her hips as she wiggled out of the garment, and how your breathing became ragged as you noticed the wet spot on her panties.

Your jaw trembled as if you were trying to contain herself. “Is this for me, Ms. President?”

Lara swallowed a sigh, feeling a shiver run down her skin in response to the desire in your voice. “Nothing I do is for you, y/l. This is just a… physiological response.”

You chuckled. “You never give in, huh?”

In a matter of seconds, you let the cards previously in your hands fall scattered on the mattress and got on your knees, slowly crawling to where Lara was, like a predator hunting its prey, not caring about the stack crumpling beneath your legs. “What’s the problem, Raj? Think you’d get too addicted to me?”

“You talk too much, y/l.”

“And why don’t you do something about it?”

No one could challenge Lara Raj and get away with it, and it was about time you learned that. She felt a rush of satisfaction when she saw your smug smirk give way to a look of surprise when Lara pushed you back, making your head hit the pillow as she climbed onto your hips. When your hands automatically went to grab her waist, Lara slapped them hard. “Don’t lay your peasant hands on me.”

Your eyes still had that same glint of crazy amusement that Lara always saw when you were playing. Somehow, that hint of erratic insanity, plus the sight of your hair spread out on the pillow, surrounded by cards, made you look even hotter. You purred. “So how do you want me, Ms. President?”

“I want you to use that mouth of yours for something better than just talking shit.”

She straddled higher on your body, resting her knees next to your head. In a rough grip, Lara grabbed your hair and forced your face closer to her intimacy, without even bothering to take off her own panties first. If Lara were in her right mind, it would be shameful to admit that she was at that level of desperation for any kind of friction.

You didn't complain about being handled like that, accepting everything Lara was giving you willingly. Taking the opportunity to push the president's buttons a little more, you slowly let your tongue dart through the wet fabric in a long lick, receiving a broken sigh and a stronger grip in response.

“Don’t tease me, you slut.” Lara muttered, breathing heavily, standing up just enough to take off her panties and throw them in any direction in the room. As much as she wanted to sound threatening, Lara knew it sounded more like a desperate whimper.

You didn’t comment on it, just chuckling as you watched the president take off another piece of clothing. Lara felt wet in a way she probably never had been before in her entire life, with her slick running down her thighs in a vulgar sheen and you following that path with your eyes as if it were the rainbow that would lead you to the pot of gold. Lara didn’t have the patience for that.

Grabbing your hair again, Lara lowered herself to your mouth without wasting any more time, letting out an appreciative sound as she felt your tongue exploring her folds, drinking her juices as if it tasted like nectar. She should have expected you to be good at this too, but you managed to be even better than she had thought, eating her out like a starving woman.

The sounds in the dorm were a wet obscenity that only got worse as you explored more and more of Lara with your mouth. When your teeth accidentally hit the girl's clit, Lara let out a high-pitched mewl that made her body tremble in response, while she continued to ride your face with less and less precision and more and more exasperation.

She didn't even care when you defied yet another direct order and your hands found her thighs, squeezing the skin and bringing Lara closer and closer to you, as if you wanted to get impossibly deeper inside her. Rejecting any kind of containment at that moment, Lara reached behind her back to free herself from her bra, leaving her breasts free to bounce as she continued to use your face without losing momentum.

Lara's nails were going to leave a permanent mark on your scalp with the strength she was using to grab at you. "Shit, you're so much less annoying when you're quiet like that, you know? Who would have thought that getting pussy would make you so much more tolerable."

The bed beneath you groaned and shook, the headboard banging against the wall with each new movement of Lara's hips. Maybe the neighboring dormi could hear the sounds of pleasure that echoed in the room, but who cared? Lara had enough power to make all of them forget what they heard. Or maybe she wanted them to remember. Maybe she wanted them to spread what they heard to the entire school, so that everyone would know that she was using you, marking you as her exclusive property.

Embarrassingly, the thought made the knot in Lara's stomach tighten even more. The feeling grew with each new movement of your tongue, each thrust you gave into her wet, hot channel, making louder and louder moans escape the president's throat. With her movements getting sloppier, Lara brushed back the hair that was stuck to her forehead with sweat, finally looking down in a sudden need to watch you.

She didn’t regret her decision, getting stuck in a trance when she saw the fire in your eyes, as if you had no other determination than to make Lara melt in your mouth. When your lips closed around her clit in a strong suck, finally giving attention to the neglected bud, which was throbbing for attention, Lara saw an explosion of stars behind her eyes.

“If you stop, I swear I’ll hunt you down and put your head on a spike, y/l.” She threatened with a broken moan, trying to somehow maintain control over the situation, since she had given you complete control of her own body. She wouldn’t hold out for long, not when you were fucking her so hard, while looking like that beneath her.

A few sucks later, Lara was feeling her entire body tremble with the force of her own orgasm, letting uncontrollable spasms spread through all her muscles as she fell forward. You promptly held her by the waist, letting her ride the wave of pleasure while you lapped up the result of her intense climax.

In seconds, Lara was lying next to you on the small single bed, trying to catch her breath. With her eyes closed, the girl was able to focus on her other senses, such as the smell of sex impregnated in the covers and your sweaty arms leaning side by side on that tiny mattress. In her ears, Lara heard your melodious giggle reaching her.

“You’re far more undressed than I am, Ms. President. Does that mean I won the bet?”

Lara shot you a sharp look, but you didn’t seem to care. You were beaming, that damn smirk on your face seemed to shine even brighter when Lara’s juices were still pooling on your chin. “Was that your plan, all along?”

Your features softened and the way you were looking at Lara now made her feel way more naked than just in a physical way. “No, silly. Is it hard to imagine that I just wanted some time with you?”

“That needy for my attention, huh?”

“Oh, please. You were screaming my name just a few minutes ago.”

“Don’t ruin the moment, y/l. Just shut the fuck up again.”

[lafortezanjz]

Your camera roll as Lara’s partner;

[rosachae]

idol | megan skiendiel x reader

⁍ song: radar - lil hero ⁍ requested: yes! thank you anon ⁍ genre: idol!megan x actor!reader. slowburn fluff, jealous megan, loser!megan ⁍ a/n: thank you for requesting this, anon! sorry for the delay in getting this out. i hope this is what you were looking for. ⁍ w.c: 17k ⁍ warnings: curt language, a little bit nsfw(?), more so just suggestive. ⁍ synopsis:

y/n, an up-and-coming actor in korea, casually let slip on a variety show that she might have the *tiniest* crush on a particular girl group member, megan skiendiel. lucky for her, she was already on megan's radar.

“it was only a matter of time before you did something to make your pr team cry,” yunjin said, her voice thick with amusement as she leaned forward in her chair. “but god, y/n. i didn’t think you had it in you to be that bold.”

you didn’t bother to look at her. instead, you kept your focus on the half-empty iced americano in your hands, the straw poking at the lid like it had something to say too. “yeah yeah,” you muttered, tone dry. “keep it coming. get it all out.”

yunjin’s laughter filled the small recording studio, bouncing off the walls like an echo that didn’t know when to quit.

the first time you met her, you were rushing to a meeting at the hybe building, five minutes late and in no mood to reschedule. the elevator was almost closed when a hand slipped between the panels, smooth and effortless, like it was something out of a k-drama. yunjin stepped in a moment later, casual as anything, earbuds in, hoodie half-zipped, eyes flicking toward you.

she didn’t register who you were right away. not until she caught the outline of your face in the elevator mirror and did the most obvious quadruple take known to man. she grinned like she’d just won a bet. you raised an eyebrow. the doors shut.

your name had been climbing headlines at the time, especially after that marvel debut. you were still adjusting to the spotlight, to the way people started speaking about you like you were a headline first and a human being second. they called you the face of the next generation, a once-in-a-decade talent. you still weren’t sure what to do with that.

to her credit, yunjin didn’t immediately spiral. she told you later she’d nearly recited your entire filmography then and there but had somehow restrained herself. instead, she said, “you’re taller than i thought,” with a sort of breezy charm that made you laugh before you could stop yourself.

the novelty wore off quickly. by your third hangout, she was yelling at her flat iron over facetime and blaming you for jinxing her hair before mcountdown. the pedestal had crumbled, and in its place was something much better.

you adored her, truly. but right now? right now you wanted to strangle her.

“you do realize the internet’s having a meltdown, right?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder while fiddling with the dials on the studio mixer. “megan’s stans are going full detective mode. they’re gonna find the exact thread count of your bedsheets if you’re not careful.”

of course you knew. how could you not?

‎ 

‎it had all started at weekly idol. you and your costar, eunwoo, were the guests that day. minhyuk and hyeongjun were hosting. bright-eyed, energetic, and way too charismatic for nine in the morning. the moment you stepped on set, they bowed with exaggerated reverence and gasped like they’d seen ghosts.

“wow… everyone, protect the cameras,” minhyuk said, turning to the staff with mock urgency. “no way this equipment survives the visuals of both our guests at once.”

you laughed, cheeks heating despite yourself. the nerves hadn’t gone away even after a hundred interviews. your knee had bounced nonstop in the makeup chair. your hands wouldn’t sit still in your lap. you didn’t know why you were this on edge. it wasn’t like this was your first time.

eunwoo had noticed. he always noticed. he didn’t say much, but before your cue to enter, he gave you a quiet nod, a calm smile. just enough to settle the buzz in your chest.

the shoot went smoothly. laughter came easy. there was a moment you and eunwoo broke into an absurd duet of the show’s theme song, something so horrifically off-key that it ended up trending for twelve hours. and yet, what really caught fire was that one particular question.

“…so, y/n,” hyeongjun had said, reading off a laminated card with all the flair of a seasoned variety host. “you’ve caught the eye of the entire country. but has anyone caught your eye?”

you paused. of course you did. your manager’s disapproving face flashed through your brain like a warning siren, but you could already feel the words rising. the answer had been sitting with you for months now, quiet and patient.

you thought of coachella. of watching a failed backflip send some poor guy crashing to the ground mid-performance, which made you laugh for far too long. and how somehow, down that spiral of linked videos and fuzzy 420p livestreams, you ended up watching three girls play roblox with him. that’s when you saw her. megan skiendiel. orange wig, infectious laugh, that strange but graceful way she moved that made you look twice.

she was stunning. but it wasn’t just that. it was the way she felt. vibrant. sincere. like she wasn’t trying to be anyone but herself.

you could still remember the way your cheeks felt warm when you finally answered.

“uh, well, i don’t usually think about stuff like that,” you said carefully, then smiled despite yourself. “but i think katseye’s megan is absolutely gorgeous. i mean, i’d love to meet her. she seems fun. like the kind of person you’d want to be friends with.”

innocent enough. 

‎ 

or so you thought.

now, here you were, spinning idly on a swivel chair in yunjin’s recording booth, trying not to meet her smug eyes.

“you should’ve said nothing,” she said, clearly enjoying herself. “or lied. something. anything. instead, you went full disney channel crush monologue.”

“i thought it was harmless,” you argued, voice climbing in pitch. “i didn’t think the entire internet would spiral into an fbi task force over a throwaway comment. seriously, doesn’t anyone have jobs?”

“you’re y/n,” yunjin shot back, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “you know people hang onto your words like they’re stock tips. you practically lit a flare above her name with that answer.”

“i didn’t even say anything that bad! i called her pretty and said she seemed fun. i said the same thing about you last week on dex’s fridge.”

“right, but you didn’t look like you were about to pass out from heart palpitations when you said it about me. you didn’t blush. you didn’t pause like you were imagining your wedding vows. babe, you looked like you were one blink away from writing her poetry.”

“you’re being so dramatic.”

“am i?” she raised an eyebrow. “because you may as well have held a ‘simp’ sign and worn a megan skiendiel stan shirt. even sungchan has more chill than that. sungchan, y/n.”

you groaned at the mention of your tall, hopelessly clumsy mutual. “low blow.”

“i’m just saying.” she shrugged, biting back a grin. “even you know i’m right.”

and unfortunately, you kind of did.

“okay, but for real,” yunjin said, dragging her chair over with a squeak that made you wince. she rested her elbows on her knees, chin in her hands, looking at you like she was about to stage an intervention. “what are you gonna do if she actually reaches out?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the shift in her tone. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, say she dms you. or tags you in some story. or, i don’t know, shows up at your next premiere with a bouquet of roses and a sign that says ‘hi crush.’ what then?” she asked. “you gonna freak out and melt into the floor? you gonna invite her to karaoke and try to play it cool while secretly dying inside?”

you turned away and took a long, pointed sip of your coffee.

“no, but seriously,” she pressed, clearly not letting it go. “you like her, don’t you?”

you snorted. “i’ve never even met her.”

“not what i asked.”

you sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall with a soft thud. “i don’t know. maybe.”

yunjin tilted her head. “that’s a yes.”

“it’s not a yes,” you said, but your voice was too quiet to sound convincing. “i just think she’s… interesting.”

“gorgeous, fun, interesting,” she ticked off on her fingers. “mmhmm. yeah. sounds like someone’s caught feelings off vibes and roblox streams alone. that’s powerful.”

you groaned again and rolled your eyes, but the sound that left your throat was somewhere between embarrassment and reluctant laughter. “you make it sound so unhinged.”

“it is unhinged,” she said without missing a beat. “but it’s also kind of cute. in a really stupid, romcom kind of way. you, falling for a girl you’ve never met because she made you laugh through a pixelated camera while dressed like a traffic cone.”

you narrowed your eyes. “it was a very good orange wig.”

“never said it wasn’t,” she said with a shrug. “you’re just proving my point.”

you exhaled slowly, running a hand down your face. “look, i didn’t mean for any of this to happen. i just answered the question honestly. i wasn’t trying to stir up some whole thing.”

“but you did,” she said gently. ”and maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world.”

you looked at her, unsure how to respond.

“she could be into it,” yunjin said, her voice lighter again. “she should be into it. if i was her, i’d be clearing my schedule and calling my stylist for a camera-ready fit. do you even know how many people would kill to be publicly flirted with by you?”

“i wasn’t flirting.”

“girl, you might as well have asked for her ring size.”

you groaned again and flopped forward, burying your face in your arms as yunjin broke into another fit of laughter. somewhere beneath the teasing and the noise, though, was something quieter. something you didn’t say out loud.

you kind of hoped she did reach out.

even just to say hi.

__

the dorm was quiet, save for the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of pipes behind the walls. manhua pages rustled faintly in the room next door, probably sophia flipping through her latest haul before bed, but otherwise the place had settled into a kind of hush that only came after midnight. the rest of the girls had turned in after rehearsals, legs sore, voices hoarse, the kind of tired that sank into the bones. megan had stayed behind in the living room, half-sprawled across the floor with a pillow hugged to her chest and a cold bottle of pocari pressed under her jaw.

she was still in her practice clothes, oversized hoodie and bike shorts, skin sticky with the last remnants of sweat she hadn’t bothered to wipe off properly. her hair was clipped up haphazardly, strands falling into her face as she stared down at her phone, blue light painting her features in a soft, ghostly glow.

she wasn’t really expecting anything when she opened twitter. just a quick scroll before bed, a way to shut her brain off after a day of hitting choreography until her ankles burned. but then she saw the video. saw her name. and froze.

“Y/N CONFIRMS SHE’S A FAN OF KATSEYE’S MEGAN 🫢🫢🫢”

she clicked it.

the clip wasn’t long. maybe thirty seconds, a little more. it was some variety show. she recognized eunwoo immediately, bright-eyed and relaxed in the way only he ever seemed to be on camera. y/n sat beside him, posture a little straighter than usual, nerves twitching under the surface despite the easy smile on her face.

megan watched the moment unfold. the way the question was asked. the pause. the sheepish smile. 

“i think katseye’s megan is absolutely gorgeous.”

the words shouldn’t have done anything. people said things like that all the time. fans. hosts. stylists brushing out her hair before a shoot. it wasn’t new. but the way y/n said it, quiet, thoughtful, almost like she was holding back something bigger… it sat heavy in megan’s chest as the clip ended and replayed itself automatically.

she watched it again. and then a third time.

her notifications were already a mess. katseye’s name trending alongside y/n’s, clips being reposted with fan captions and edits, screenshots of the moment paired with captions like “megan better WAKE UP” and “y/n join the line babe”. she should’ve laughed. part of her did. but underneath it, something shifted. something warm and unsure and a little bit dizzy.

y/n had been on her radar for a while, if she was being honest. megan wasn’t the type to crush easily, but there was something about her. it started with a film. some sci-fi action thing that megan only half paid attention to until y/n showed up on screen and suddenly everything was more interesting. after that, it was interviews. behind the scenes clips. a fan edit that popped up on her for you page one morning and made her miss a whole subway stop because she got too caught up in it.

and now this.

megan opened y/n’s instagram without really thinking. her thumb hovered over the follow button. she stared at it for a long second, teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

she didn’t press it.

not yet.

instead, she set her phone down on the floor beside her and let her eyes drift to the ceiling. her heart was beating faster than it had any right to.

“gorgeous,” she murmured under her breath, voice barely audible. “fun. wants to be friends.”

maybe she could work with that.

‎ 

sleep didn’t come easy to her that night.  before she knew it, the night shifted to morning and she had to get up. the studio called her name, as it seemed to relentlessly the past month and some change. 

sophia, daniela, and yoonchae were already mid-run-through when megan walked into the practice room, the tail end of the “gnarly” chorus echoing faintly from the speakers. sophia’s voice cut clean through the track, daniela’s movements sharp and deliberate. yoonchae was quiet, as usual, but every step she made was crisp, clockwork precise.

megan had barely stepped into the center of the room when she heard it.

“so.” lara didn’t even look up from where she was sitting, stretching her legs out and leaning back on her palms. “anything you wanna share with the class?”

megan blinked. “what?”

manon turned her head slowly from where she was sitting several notches away, a teasing gleam in her eyes. she answers as if it’s obvious. honestly, it really was. “y/n.”

megan tensed immediately. “oh god.”

“yup,” lara said, like she had been waiting all morning for this. “you’ve been blowing up on stan twitter since seven a.m. and don’t think we didn’t notice how fast you saved that clip on the shared account”

“i didn’t save it,” megan muttered, grabbing her water bottle a little too fast. “i just… happened to see it. once.”

“megan,” manon said, eyes narrowing just slightly. “you’ve been quiet all morning. the last time you shut the fuck up was when you saw scarlett johanson do the splits in that one captain america movie. don’t lie to us.”

lara laughed under her breath. “she said you were gorgeous, wanted to be friends. oh, how romantic. i bet you probably watched it ten times over.”

“i did not,” megan said, practically choking on her water. “i just didn’t expect it, okay? i wasn’t mentally prepared.”

“mentally prepared for what?” manon said, raising a brow. “a compliment? you’ve been in magazines. people compliment you all the time.”

“not her,” megan said, before immediately realizing what she’d just admitted out loud. she froze. “i mean. not like. you know. never mind.”

lara clapped once, too loud. “that’s it. someone get her phone. we’re crafting a dm.”

“absolutely not,” megan said, panic already bubbling in her chest. “i’ll die.”

“what are you gonna do?” manon said. “wait until she magically appears in the dorms living room?”

megan buried her face in her hoodie. “maybe.”

“this is tragic,” lara said. “you have the golden opportunity of a lifetime and you’re out here acting like she’s a tax bill.”

“can we please change the subject,” megan mumbled, voice muffled in fabric.

“nope,” manon said, standing up and walking towards her. “group vote says you’re dming her.”

lara held out a hand. “seconded.”

from across the room, daniela raised a hand mid-step. “thirded.”

megan didn’t even look up. “yoonchae. please. save me.”

yoonchae just gave a small shrug, barely breaking from the choreo. megan groaned into her sleeve.

yep. she was on her own. not even sophia batted an eyelash, the filippinas glossy lips tilting up into a small grin where she was by the mirrors. 

megan sat down cross-legged on the floor with her phone clutched in both hands like it might explode. her back was hunched, eyes glued to the screen, and the expression on her face hovered somewhere between total focus and a full-blown identity crisis.

“you haven’t even opened instagram yet,” manon pointed out, sitting behind her and peering over her shoulder.

“i’m getting to it,” megan muttered.

lara flopped down next to her with a dramatic sigh. “this is painful to watch. if you go any slower, we’ll be here until yoonchae turns twenty-seven.”

megan unlocked her phone with a resigned swipe. “what do i even say? like. what do people say when they’re trying not to sound weird?”

lara took a breath. “okay. let’s start simple. ‘hi y/n, thanks for saying i’m pretty on tv—”

“i’m not saying that.”

“‘you have great taste in women’—”

“lara.”

“‘let’s be friends (or more if you’re free saturday night)’—”

megan covered her face with both hands. “why did i think listening to you was a good idea.”

manon leaned her chin on megan’s shoulder. “fine. try this. ‘hi, this is super random but i saw the clip from weekly idol and just wanted to say thank you. that was really sweet of you. hope we can meet someday!’ short, polite, friendly. not scary.”

megan peeked at her. “…that’s not terrible.”

lara squinted. “it’s boring.”

“it’s safe,” manon said, grabbing megan’s phone and typing it out with quick thumbs. “she’s not asking her to elope, she’s just acknowledging it.”

megan took the phone back and read it over like it was a contract. “…what if she doesn’t reply?”

“then you delete your account and we pretend this never happened,” lara said. “easy.”

“lara,” manon sighed.

megan stared at the message for a long moment. her thumb hovered. then tapped. then hovered again.

“just hit send,” daniela called from across the room, not even looking up from her stretching. “we can feel your hesitation from over here.”

“seriously,” sophia added, “you’re vibrating.”

megan sucked in a breath through her teeth. and then, with her eyes closed and her stomach in her shoes, she hit send.

silence.

lara let out the longest, slowest gasp. “it’s done.”

manon patted her back. “you’re very brave.”

megan immediately flopped backward onto the floor like she’d just run a marathon. “i need to lie here forever. let me perish in peace.”

lara just grinned and offered her a thumbs up. “she’s gonna love it.”

megan covered her eyes. “i hate everything.”

never in a million years would she have expected that one simple action to change everything. 

__

the cafe was warm in that familiar, lived-in kind of way. wood-paneled walls framed by climbing ivy, soft light filtering through dusty windows, and the scent of espresso baked into the air like it had nowhere else to go. outside, a quiet drizzle tapped at the glass, slow and steady, painting the sidewalk in watercolor streaks. inside, the soft clatter of dishes and hum of conversation made everything feel just far enough from the noise of your schedule to breathe.

you were at a small table near the back, the kind that rocked a little if you leaned on it wrong. yunjin sat across from you, one leg thrown over the other, straw bent at an aggressive angle in her lemonade. beside her, sungchan had his jacket slung over his chair and a look of mild betrayal on his face as he stared down at the salad yunjin had goaded him into ordering.

“i’m just saying,” she said, picking a piece of arugula off his plate like it belonged to her, “you can’t order a burger four days in a row and then complain about your skin breaking out.”

“it’s called balance,” sungchan muttered, dragging his fork through the greens with the resigned air of someone deeply offended by roughage. “i had a banana this morning.”

“oh wow,” she deadpanned. “one whole banana. call the olympic committee, this man is the pinnacle of health.”

he gave her a flat look. “didn’t you eat instant tteokbokki at two in the morning and then text me about your stomach cramps like it was my fault?”

“okay, first of all, you’re my emotional support contact when i make poor life choices. second of all, i still looked hot while doing it.”

you blinked slowly, chin in your hand, eyes fixed on the screen of your phone where the message sat.

hi, this is super random but i saw the clip from weekly idol and just wanted to say thank you. that was really sweet of you. hope we can meet someday!

megan had sent it two nights ago. you’d seen it the moment it came in, heart tripping over itself in the dark quiet of your bedroom. you didn’t answer. not right away. you told yourself you were busy, that you had scripts to review, meetings lined up. you told yourself it wasn’t ghosting if you intended to respond eventually.

but even now, hours and hours later, you were still here. still staring. still unsure what to say.

you had never been this nervous to talk to someone before.

“okay, this is depressing,” yunjin said, snapping her fingers in your direction. “hey. eyes up. you look like someone just broke up with you via powerPoint.”

sungchan leaned in a little, squinting at you. “are you sick? you’re weirdly quiet. usually you’d be insulting us by now.”

“i’m not sick,” you said quickly, locking your phone and setting it face down on the table. “just… thinking.”

“thinking about what?” yunjin asked, tone tilting toward nosy in that way only close friends could get away with.

you hesitated.

“oh my god,” she gasped. “you’re in love.”

“i’m not in love,” you said, too fast, which only made sungchan snort into his water.

“that’s what people say right before they confess they’re in love,” he said, dabbing at his chin with a napkin like he hadn’t just inhaled half a slice of garlic bread. “who is it?”

“nobody,” you said.

yunjin leaned forward with the exact expression of someone who knew they were right. “it’s megan, isn’t it?”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t have to. the look on your face gave you away.

sungchan let out a low whistle. “oh. that megan. the ‘gorgeous, fun, would love to be friends’ megan.”

you groaned, resting your forehead on your palm. “do you all memorize everything i say or are you just stalking my interviews for sport?”

“yes,” they said at the same time.

“okay but seriously,” yunjin said, nudging your phone with one perfectly manicured finger. “she messaged you, right?”

you nodded.

“and you didn’t reply because…?”

you sighed. “i don’t know. because it’s her. because i don’t want to mess it up. because what if she’s just being nice and this whole thing is way more casual to her than it is to me?”

sungchan tilted his head. “you mean what if she’s cool and normal and not secretly writing fanfiction about you the way you’re doing about her?”

yunjin grinned. “do you want us to help you write back? or are you planning to keep having an existential crisis over a very cute dm?”

you glanced at the screen again. your reflection looked back at you in the black glass, soft and unsure.

“i’ll write back,” you said quietly.

“good,” yunjin said, leaning back in her chair with a pleased expression. “because if you didn’t, i was gonna pretend to be you and do it myself.”

“you’re terrifying,” sungchan said, which she accepted as a compliment.

you looked back at the message one more time. your heart was still beating a little too fast, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. maybe it meant you actually cared. that it mattered.

you took a breath. opened the keyboard.

and started to type.

your fingers hovered for a second too long over the keyboard. the blinking cursor stared back at you like it knew you were stalling. you could feel yunjin’s eyes on you, sharp and expectant, like she might actually snatch the phone from your hands if you hesitated any longer. sungchan, mercifully, had gone back to his salad, occasionally picking at it like it was an alien lifeform.

hi megan! sorry for the slow reply, things have been a little hectic lately. i saw your message and honestly it kind of made my whole week lol. thank you for reaching out :)

you paused. read it again. deleted the smiley. retyped it. added a second sentence.

i’d really love to meet too if you’re ever free.

then you stared at it some more.

“this is painful,” yunjin muttered. “just hit send. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“she leaves me on read and i spontaneously combust from shame,” you said flatly.

“dramatic,” sungchan mumbled, chewing like a cow. “but valid.”

“she won’t leave you on read,” yunjin said, more gently this time. “she messaged you first. that counts for something.”

you looked down at the screen one last time. your thumb hovered over the send button. your stomach turned a slow, clumsy flip. and then, before you could second guess yourself again, you pressed it.

message sent.

you didn’t breathe for a full five seconds.

“there,” yunjin said, smug now. “look at you. being brave.”

“i already regret this,” you mumbled, locking your phone again and pushing it away like it might explode.

“do you want a cookie?” sungchan asked, peering at the dessert menu. “i feel like this moment deserves a cookie.”

you blinked at him. “why do you always want to eat after stressful emotional events?”

“because i am a man of simple needs,” he said, deadpan. “and also because cookies are comforting.”

“he’s not wrong,” yunjin said, flagging down the waiter with the kind of unearned confidence that came from growing up with three older siblings and no shame. except, she didn’t. “three chocolate chip, please. and a round of iced americanos. she’s going to need the caffeine.”

you sank back into your seat, still feeling the rush of adrenaline buzzing under your skin. outside, the rain had picked up a little, streaking the windows like silver threads. inside, everything smelled like sugar and espresso and something warm baking in the oven.

you didn’t know if megan would reply. maybe she’d be busy. maybe she’d forget. but for now, you’d done the hardest part.

you’d answered, and that felt like enough for today.

that was, at least, until your phone chimed.

the sound sliced through the moment like a needle popping a balloon. all three of you froze. your eyes shot to the screen where the notification banner was still lingering like a ghost.

megan skiendiel: that sounds perfect :) when are you free?

yunjin let out an actual gasp, loud and dramatic enough to make the table behind you glance over. sungchan dropped his fork.

“no way,” yunjin hissed, already leaning across the table to see. “no actual way. she replied that fast? is she a robot?”

you didn’t say anything. you just stared. your heart had lodged itself somewhere in your throat, beating so hard it made your ears ring. megan had replied. not just replied but enthusiastically. and with a smiley. the exact one you had almost deleted from your own message.

“hello?” sungchan waved a hand in front of your face. “earth to y/n. what did she say? is it something scandalous? are we finally getting to live vicariously through your love life?”

you shoved your phone toward them without speaking.

yunjin read the message out loud like it was a line from a sacred text. “‘that sounds perfect. when are you free.’” then she looked up at you with her mouth already forming a wicked grin. “she wants to hang out. like, actually hang out. she’s asking you out.”

“not asking me out,” you said quickly, the heat creeping up the back of your neck. “just… asking when i’m free.”

“same thing,” sungchan said, picking his fork back up and pointing it at you like it was a weapon. “in celebrity speak that is basically a confession of love. i’ve seen the charts.”

“you made those charts,” you reminded him.

“and they’re scientifically sound.”

“okay but seriously,” yunjin cut in, phone still in hand, “when are you free? do you have a day off coming up?”

you blinked, trying to force your brain back into scheduling mode. “uh… friday afternoon? maybe?”

“perfect,” she said, already typing something. “tell her friday. tell her you’re free after lunch. keep it casual. breezy. like you’re not obsessively analyzing every possible outcome of this conversation.”

you shot her a look. “i am obsessively analyzing every possible outcome of this conversation.”

“which is why you need us,” sungchan said with his mouth full of cookie. “we’re here to keep you from imploding.”

your phone buzzed again.

megan skiendiel: i’m free friday after seven. wanna grab coffee? i can send you a spot i like

you didn’t even get a chance to reply before yunjin squealed.

sungchan raised both hands to the sky. “oh my god. it’s happening. it’s actually happening.”

you stared at the message, barely breathing, heart thudding like a drum inside your chest.

coffee. with megan.

you were either about to make a new friend or absolutely ruin your entire life trying.

weirdly… you couldn’t wait to find out which.

__

friday showed up before you were ready for it.

“i feel like a dad on prom night,” sungchan said, flopped across your couch like a man waiting for judgment day. he hugged a pillow to his stomach like it might shield him from the chaos. “except hotter. and younger. and not emotionally repressed.

“you’re eating chips with your shirt inside out,”chaewon deadpanned, looking sungchan up and down judgmentally.. “you look like a walking identity crisis.”  

then she turned, peering around the corner into your bedroom.

“y/n, i can’t believe you’re finally going on a date. talk about a breakthrough.”

yunjin sat cross legged on the floor, scrolling through her phone like she wasn’t the one who casually mentioned your date in front of everyone. the very second chaewon heard, she practically chomped at the bit, begging yunjin to bring her along to watch it all unfold. to say your love life was a spectacle among your friends would be an understatement.

“for the record,” you called from your room, still getting ready, “i said no to bringing chaewon.”

“for the record,” chaewon shouted back, “we overruled you. this is a democracy.”

“it’s so not.”

you stepped out, halfway dressed, holding up two completely different tops.

“black or white?”

“ooh,” yunjin said, squinting like she was inspecting a rare museum artifact. “black is hot. white is sweet. depends on the vibe you’re going for.”

“the vibe is ‘i want to look cute but not like i tried too hard because if i think about this too long i will throw myself into traffic’.”

“black,” chaewon and sungchan said in unison.

you sighed and nodded, disappearing back into the room. the air buzzed with the sound of sungchan crunching loudly and chaewon whispering to yunjin like they were spies on a mission.

“lets make a bet. ten dollars says she has a breakdown before she even leaves the house.” chaewon whispered.

“twenty says she embarrasses herself throwing up in megan’s car.” yunjin whispered back.

“guys,” you said, poking your head out again. “i can hear you.”

“we know,” they all said at the same time.

your phone dinged again.

megan skiendiel: on my way. i’ll be at your door in a minute. also, did you know your bellhop likes our music? he almost fainted when he let me up lol

you stared at the message for two full seconds before the others caught the change in your face like wolves spotting weakness. you barely had time to blink before the room exploded.

“oh my god,” sungchan shot up from the couch like someone yelled ‘fire!’. the chip bag in his hands crinkled louder than a car alarm. “was that her? is she outside? do we hide? do we have a code word if things go sideways?”

“wait, she’s coming up here?” chaewon gasped, already rising with a dramatic flair. “this place is a disaster zone!”

“i cleaned for you people,” you hissed, throwing a pointed look at the water bottles on the coffee table and the lone sock draped suspiciously over the lamp.

“yeah, and we immediately undid all of it,” yunjin said, waving a hand at the chaos like it was a museum exhibit. “you’re welcome.”

sungchan grabbed his phone, replacing the cushion he clutched. “this is it. our little baby’s first date.”

“shut up,” you muttered, cheeks heating like you’d just been called out in front of the world. “and put that damn phone down. if i see you take even one photo, i’ll beat your ass. besides, it’s not a date.”

three pairs of eyes locked onto you in unison.

“coffee with the girl you’ve been thinking about nonstop for two weeks,” chaewon said, crossing her arms with the confidence of a daytime talk show host.

“wearing the ‘hot top’, nervous enough to sweat through your socks,” yunjin added, giving you an appraising look.

“with three unpaid emotional support staff waiting at home,” sungchan finished, voice thick with mock solemnity.

your gaze snapped back and forth between the three of them, and you cringed inwardly. okay, they were right. this was definitely a date.

then, knock knock knock.

you froze for a second, heart thudding so loud you were sure they could hear it in the next room. you opened the door, and there she was.

megan stood on the other side like a vision in the hallway light, hair catching the glow just right, a smile that was equal parts warm and mischievous.

behind you, the trio froze mid-move like they’d just been caught doing something they definitely shouldn’t. they exchanged shiteating grins that barely hid how badly they were eavesdropping. yunjin quickly pulled out her phone like she was suddenly very interested in something, but her eyes kept darting toward the door. chaewon leaned against the wall, looking way too relaxed for someone who was clearly dying to say something, and sungchan sprawled on the couch with the kind of lazy cool that screamed i’m totally innocent. when megan’s eyes flicked over to them, they all waved with big, overly casual smiles like innocent bystanders who just happened to be hanging out, except no one was buying it.

but then megan’s eyes locked onto yours and suddenly everything else around you faded into the background. your breath hitched without warning and your brain scrambled like it was trying to process a beautiful glitch in reality.

you’d only ever seen her through a screen before. live streams where she smiled like the sun was just for her, short clips where she moved with effortless grace, and that one quick instagram deep dive you’d done when she messaged you. but now, here she was in real life, and she was something else entirely.

her skin caught the soft light of your penthouse, glowing like it had its own quiet radiance. her eyes were bigger and deeper than you expected, dark and shimmering like they held a secret you wanted to know. the way her hair fell in loose waves around her face softened her sharp cheekbones and made her look both fierce and kind at the same time.

she wasn’t just pretty. she was the kind of stunning that made you forget words and wish you could rewind the moment just to stare a little longer. standing there, frozen with your mouth slightly open, you realized this was the first time you were seeing her. not a filtered version, not a quick snapshot. but the real her. and it was breathtaking.

“hi,” megan said, and the word came out with a lopsided grin that cracked through the tension in your chest like sunlight through a fogged-up window. her voice was warm, lilting, a little too casual for someone who had just walked in looking like a daydream in denim baggy jeans and a bomber jacket. she rocked slightly on her heels and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, like she was fighting the urge to do a small nervous dance.

“hi,” you replied, except it sounded more like a squeak than anything human. your throat betrayed you. of course it did.

then her eyes flicked over your shoulder, and that grin stretched even wider.

“hey guys!” she waved, cheerful like she’d just walked into a party of old friends instead of three people very poorly pretending to mind their own business. “love the casual surveillance vibe you’ve got going on in here.”

“we’re chill,” sungchan said, lounging so awkwardly on the couch he almost slid off it. 

“so chill,” chaewon added, nodding solemnly from her place at the wall, where she’d become one with a houseplant.

“this is how we always sit,” yunjin said, phone upside down in her hand, gaze glued directly to megan’s face. “completely normal. zero eavesdropping. you can’t prove otherwise.”

megan let out a laugh, scrunching her nose as she looked back at you. “your friends are amazing.”

“they’re something,” you muttered, grabbing your bag before your legs could decide to walk without you.

“so,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck and bouncing slightly on her toes. “you ready? or do you need a few more minutes to, like, peel them off the furniture?”

you gave a quiet laugh, trying not to show that your hands were already clammy. “nope. ready.”

megan smiled again. softer this time. like she was seeing you for real. “cool. let’s go, then.”

and with that, you stepped out into whatever this was going to be, your heart doing cartwheels the entire way.

‎ 

truthfully, megan’s car wasn’t what you’d expected. some part of you, the part still convinced the universe had a twisted sense of humor, had pictured something absurd. maybe a crop duster or even the rusty tow truck from cars. something loud. chaotic. entirely un-date-like. instead, it was a sleek black suv. understated but sharp, just like her.

from the passenger seat, you couldn’t help sneaking glances. megan’s focus was fixed on the road, her jaw tense, her hands gripping the wheel like she was bracing for impact.

“you look nervous,” you said, a little too gently.

“o-oh, well. you know.” her voice cracked slightly as she coughed into her shoulder, eyes flicking toward you before immediately darting back to the windshield. she gave you a crooked grin, brief and almost sheepish. “i am. honestly, i feel like i’m going to vomit.”

you laughed before you could help it. light, surprised. “vomit? that’s dramatic.”

“i mean, maybe,” she said, her eyes narrowing playfully for half a second before softening again. “it’s just… i didn’t expect to actually be here. with you. not in a bad way. in a surreal way.”

you felt the flush creep across your cheeks before you even registered it, a warmth that pooled somewhere in your chest. still, you tilted your head toward her, teasing. “i can’t tell if you mean that as a compliment or not.”

megan practically panicked. “no! no, no no, not at all. god, please, that’s the silliest thing i’ve ever heard.” her words came out too fast, tripping over themselves. she shook her head like it would help untangle the knot in her thoughts. “i’m just nervous, okay? i keep overthinking it. like, what if i say something dumb, or do something weird, or—”

her voice dropped slightly, and she added, almost under her breath, “you’re so pretty i can’t think straight.”

then she froze, eyes widening as if realizing she’d said it out loud. her face goes red, a grimace pulling across her lips. she lifts a hand off the wheel to gently facepalm herself, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. “please ignore me. i’m begging,”

you could only watch. you don’t know when the fond grin crossed your lips. when your heart skipped a beat, when her endearing clumsiness had you relaxing in your seat. perhaps knowing that she was just as, if not more, nervous as you made you feel relieved. after a beat, you laughed. soft. her eyes lit up as she glanced at you from her peripheral, the short noise drawing her from her thoughts.

“you’re fine,” you said, quiet but real. “i’ve been looking forward to tonight too.”

“really?”

“yeah. do you think i’d let my friends invade my house all week just for fun? they’ve been insufferable, harassing me all week. i guess i maybe haven’t made it all that secret that i’ve been interested in you for a while.” then you shake your head. “interested in meeting, that is.”

this time it was megan’s turn to crack a stupid grin.

whatever nerves you felt immediately disappeared the longer you talked to each other. truth be told, you were worried whether you’d get along as well as you hoped you would. part of you worried that once you saw each other, it’d be awkward. quiet. instead megan somehow managed to fill the silence with conversation. she asked about your family, about your day, about your friends. in turn you asked about hers.

she laughed at something you said. not even something that funny, really, just a small comment about the gas station snacks you liked. but the way she laughed, like she meant it, like she wasn’t just being polite, made your chest feel lighter. her voice filled the car, soft but certain, and the road hummed under the tires like it was part of the conversation.

you glanced over at her. she was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gear shift. her thumb tapped along to the music playing low through the speakers. some indie band neither of you had heard before but had both agreed sounded “pretty good.” it was easy. easier than you expected.

you didn’t have to think too hard before speaking. there was no second guessing. no awkward pauses that made you reach for your phone or pretend to check the map. she asked about the book in your bag and you told her it was something you started three times but never finished. she admitted she did that too, more often than she’d like to admit. you both laughed again.

the sky outside started to shift, the blue softening into a hazy gold. you weren’t sure how long you’d been driving, only that time felt different in the car with her. stretched out. slowed down. kinder.

it didn’t take long for her to park outside a cafe, but neither of you moved to get out. instead, you agreed to order to go. that’s how you ended up here. still in her car, windows slightly cracked, the warm scent of coffee filling the space between you. your drink sat snug in the cupholder, hands curled around it for warmth, and a half-eaten bagel rested in your lap. just outside the windshield, the lights of seoul shimmered across the han river, soft and golden against the night.

she didn’t seem in any rush to leave, and neither were you.

after a long sip of coffee, the next question came out without much thought.

“how long are you in korea for this time?”

“another week, give or take,” she said, eyes flicking to the skyline, like she was already counting down.

“do you miss home?”

“i do. yeah. i miss my car, mostly. it’s my baby. a bmw m3.”

you looked at her, eyebrows raised. “whoever handed you the keys to a sports car must have had a serious lapse in judgment. you drive this suv like you’ve got a personal vendetta against the speed limit.”

she let out a laugh, head tipping back slightly. “what can i say? i like to go fast.”

“sure. until we’re airborne.”

“oh, come on,” she grinned. “you weren’t complaining when you were riding shotgun, all cozy and content, full-on passenger princess mode.”

you rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “i was holding onto the door for dear life.”

“you were vibing,” she said.

“i was surviving,” you shot back, but it was playful, light.

the silence that followed wasn’t awkward. it was the kind that settled easy between two people who’d already found a rhythm.

megan reached for her own cup, nearly knocking over the paper bag between you in the process. the bagel inside gave a sad little flop onto the console. she froze.

“whoops. that was... not smooth.”

you laughed, nudging the bag gently back toward her. “you’re a menace behind the wheel and a danger to pastries. noted.”

she gave you a sheepish smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “yeah, i’m really killing it tonight, huh?”

“actually,” you said, voice a little softer, “i’ve had a really nice time.”

she blinked at you, surprised. “yeah?”

you nodded, looking out toward the river before meeting her eyes again. “i was kinda nervous. not because of you, just... sometimes people are different in person. it doesn’t always click.”

megan was quiet for a second, then gave a small, crooked smile. “i was worried about that too. i overthink everything. i even tried to pick a good playlist just in case the conversation died and we needed... filler noise or something.”

you laughed. “is that why i’ve been listening to three hours of sad indie girls?”

“they’re emotionally articulate,” she said, pretending to be offended, but her grin gave her away. “besides, it worked, didn’t it?”

you leaned back against the seat, stretching your legs out a bit. “yeah. it really did.”

the city lights danced in her eyes when she looked at you, soft and a little uncertain, but there was warmth there too. the kind that made the car feel smaller, safer.

“you’re easy to talk to,” she said after a moment, quieter than before.

you smiled, heart tugging just slightly at her honesty. “so are you.”

a comfortable silence settled again, the kind where neither of you felt the need to fill it. the engine ticked softly as it cooled, and in the background, another melancholic song hummed through the speakers.

“i was gonna try and act all chill and collected,” megan said eventually, gaze fixed on the skyline. “but then i fumbled, almost crashed into that curb, and now my bagel is probably in pieces.”

“you’re doing great,” you said, trying not to smile too much. “like, truly elite first impression.”

she turned to face you, eyes bright despite the dim light. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

and just like that, the nerves that had once lingered in the corners of your chest felt like a distant memory.

__

after that night in the car, things shifted. not in a big, dramatic way. no sudden declarations, no fireworks. just small things. steadier things.

your conversations moved from instagram dms to real texts. it felt natural. seamless. one day she asked for your number like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t already been in your head more than you cared to admit. and you gave it without hesitation, like it wasn’t a risk. like you already knew she’d treat it right.

when she left korea, it was quiet. no big goodbye, no emotional scene. she texted you from the airport, a blurry photo of her and a coffee she swore was going to keep her awake through the flight. from there, the messages kept going. even with the time difference, she found time to talk. random updates. sleepy selfies. voice notes with a little static in the background because she always seemed to be walking somewhere, or in a van, or waiting backstage. sometimes she’d send a song with no context. sometimes just a “this reminded me of you” followed by a meme that made absolutely no sense.

you talked about everything and nothing. the shows she was doing. the tiny hotel rooms she was crashing in. how much she missed sophia’s dog, chanel. how lara had started sleep talking again. how yoonchae had near cried when she had to say goodbye to her parents again when they returned to california.

you told her about your week, the upcoming film you’re wrapping up shooting, your friends, the late-night ramen run that ended in rain and ruined shoes.

some nights, the conversations lasted until one of you fell asleep mid-text. other nights, it was just a good morning or goodnight, quick but never careless.

somehow, she made the space between you feel smaller.

it didn’t take long for others to start noticing your budding friendship, either. 

if there was one thing you should know about megan skiendiel, it’s that she’s stubborn. fiercely so. once she feels something, she clings to it with both hands. no disguises, no apologies. she doesn’t know how to be subtle and doesn’t try to be. her heart shows up before she even walks into the room.

and lately, her heart had a habit of mentioning you. probably more than it should have.

the first time was during a casual sit-down with a popular youtuber. the question had been harmless enough.  “did you meet anyone interesting in korea?” 

megan didn’t even blink before your name tumbled out of her mouth.

behind her, manon practically doubled over laughing while lara muttered something about “bad timing” and “inside jokes.” the clip went viral within the hour.

eyekons weren’t buying the act. they knew.

especially after that solo live.

‎ 

megan sank into the couch with a sigh, stretching her legs over the coffee table as she adjusted her phone. It’d been a long day. dance practice ran overtime, vocal lessons left her voice raw, and all she wanted was to collapse into bed. but she had promised her fans a live, and the guilt of leaving them waiting weighed heavily on her.

she brushed  her hair back as the screen flickered to life. a wave of comments flooded in immediately, the chat scrolling too fast to keep up.

she smiled, a familiar warmth settling into her voice. "hi, everyone. It's been a while, huh?"

the dorm was quieter than usual. yoonchae and daniela were still at the studio, finishing up some recording. lara, sophia and manon were off doing who knows what. 

megan answered questions between sips of water, laughing as fans teased her. she talked about her love for food, and her habit of getting lost in airports. the conversation was easy, natural. she talked about practice, her favorite songs lately, and the games she'd been playing. it felt comfortable, like a casual late night talk with friends.

then, suddenly, the energy shifted. the comments exploded into chaos. fans were spamming messages faster than she had ever seen before.

"wait, what's happening?" she mumbled, eyes flicking over the chat, trying to make sense of the flood of messages.

then she saw it. a single line of text that had a dumb grin permanently etching itself across her face. 

y/n:  have you ate today? you look so cute with those glasses on! 

her eyes scanned the screen again just to make sure she hadn’t imagined it. but no. it was still there. your name. your message.

she dropped her hands into her lap and beamed, full teeth, no restraint. her cheeks were already tinged pink, and now they burned. she didn’t care.

“hi, y/n,” she said, voice soft but electric. “you’re really here, huh?”

the chat lost its mind. it was like someone had thrown gasoline on a bonfire. hearts, exclamation marks. 

megan didn’t even try to hide it.

“i wasn’t expecting that,” she said, practically bouncing in place now. “like, i thought maybe you’d be busy or… i don’t know, being famous and cool and doing actor things.”

she laughed a short, nervous little burst,  then leaned closer to the screen, like it might bring her to you.

“i did eat, by the way. i wasn’t gonna wear the glasses, but my eyes were tired and they help with the light. but… i’m glad you think they look nice.”

it wasn’t subtle. none of it was subtle.

she was glowing. lit from the inside out with the kind of joy that couldn’t be faked. and even though thousands of fans were watching, even though the chat was an overwhelming blur of reactions and chaos.  for that brief moment, it was like no one else existed. no one but you. 

‎ 

the third, perhaps most notorious time, was two weeks later.

‎ 

it was meant to be a harmless segment. a fluff piece for some new cosmopolitan youtube show. the kind with silly games and awkward dares and an entire soundboard dedicated to exaggerated gasps. katseye had been invited to promote their upcoming showcase, and the host had them lined up in pairs, facing each other in a game of “who knows who better.”

megan had been paired with sophia, which was dangerous from the start. the two had a history of throwing each other under the bus for the sake of comedy, and neither had a filter to speak of.

“okay, last round,” the host grinned, holding up a cue card. “this one’s just for fun. megan, sophia — name one person your partner talks about way too much.”

“oh no,” sophia said instantly, already grinning like the cat who got the cream.

megan groaned, head falling back dramatically. “don’t do this to me.”

“i have no choice,” sophia replied solemnly. “i’m under oath.”

the buzzer sounded and both girls scribbled their answers down on whiteboards. megan wrote slowly, trying to be clever, trying to think of a joke that would dodge the obvious. but when the timer buzzed again, she sighed and held it up.

so did sophia.

your name. in big, bold letters. twice.

the studio burst into laughter, and the host clutched his chest like he’d just witnessed the reveal of the century.

“wow,” he said, eyes flicking between the two of them. “not even a hesitation.”

“because it’s true,” sophia said, smug. “she’s in her ‘y/n era.’ we’re just living in it.”

megan was pink from ear to ear, trying — and failing — to hide behind her board. “that’s not true. okay, maybe a little true.”

“a little?” manon called from off-camera. “girl, you made us watch one of her movies three nights in a row.”

“it was for the plot,” megan shot back.

“uh-huh,” daniela deadpanned. “plot named y/n.”

the clip made the rounds before the show even finished airing. fancams popped up with captions like “megan being the president of y/n’s fan club for six minutes straight” and the internet did what it does best. spiral.

‎ 

through it all, megan didn’t deny a thing.

she couldn’t. not when her whole face lit up like a summer skyline every time your name came up. not when her bandmates had stopped teasing and started treating your existence as something inevitable, like the rising sun or the way manon always stole everyone’s chargers.

 by then, you weren’t just someone she mentioned.

in an industry known for silence, for secrecy and statements about “valuing privacy,” hybe was practically rolling out a red carpet. in korea, relationships in the spotlight were often treated like scandals waiting to happen. but the western fans? they were eating it up. every clipped interview, every suspiciously timed instagram like, every passing mention of your name on a live. it was all free press, and hybe knew it.

so they leaned in. quietly, strategically. no denials. no damage control. just subtle nudges that said, yeah, keep watching.

and it was driving her crazy. 

__

you weren’t exactly sure when it happened. when the feeling settled in your chest and decided to stay. maybe it had been there all along, hiding underneath the comfort of familiarity and the ease of your friendship. or maybe it grew slowly, in the quiet moments you never thought to mark.

it could’ve been during the weeks she was gone, promoting outside of korea. the distance was supposed to make things simpler. safer. but instead, it just made her absence louder. knowing you were still the first person she messaged in the morning and the last one she talked to before sleep made your chest ache in a way you didn’t have a name for yet.

or maybe it was that one night, the one where you called her just to vent about a costar who had spent the entire day getting under your skin. you were halfway through a breathless rant when you noticed it. the way she was watching you through the screen. how she wasn’t just nodding politely or checking her phone or letting her attention drift. she was listening. really listening. her eyes softened when you got frustrated, lit up when you said something funny. when your voice cracked just a little from tiredness, she didn’t interrupt. she just stayed with you. present and still. like holding space for you was the most natural thing in the world.

and somewhere in all of that, it hit you.

you were in love with megan skiendiel. painfully. undeniably. fully.

at first, you were terrified. quietly, achingly scared. because what were you supposed to do with a feeling like this? loving megan had crept up on you, soft and slow, the way a sunset slips past the horizon before you even realize it’s gone. and now that it was here, fully formed and impossible to ignore, you didn’t know how to carry it.

megan had become a constant. someone who felt less like a friend and more like a fixture. someone you could turn to at any hour, knowing she’d listen without judgment, laugh at your bad jokes, sit in silence if that’s what you needed. she never made you feel like too much or not enough. she just saw you. and the last thing you wanted was to ruin something that good with feelings you didn’t know how to manage.

so you kept it quiet. buried it under casual texts and late-night calls. told yourself it wasn’t the right time. told yourself maybe it didn’t need to be said at all.

but then the girls were coming back to korea. six months had passed since their last visit, and the moment megan found out they’d be landing soon, she called you. not texted. not waited. called.

you’d picked up on the first ring.

and now, you were standing at your front door, fingers still curled around the handle, staring at the very girl who had been living rent-free in your head for months.

before you could even speak, megan threw her arms around you. the force of it almost knocked you back a step. her dark brown hair smelled like travel and lavender shampoo and something unmistakably her. she held you like she’d been counting down the days to this moment. like she’d been holding her breath all the way across oceans and could finally breathe again now that she was here.

her arms were warm and tight around you, her face tucked into the crook of your neck. for a few seconds, neither of you said anything. and for the first time in weeks, your heart didn’t feel so loud.

“you smell different,” megan mumbled, voice muffled against your shoulder.

you blinked, startled. “um. thanks?”

she pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands still resting on your waist. “not bad different. just… like laundry detergent and success.”

you snorted. “you’ve been on korean air for fifteen hours and that’s what you open with?”

“i missed you too,” she said, and there was no hesitation in it. no theatrics. just honesty, plain and easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world to say.

you felt the corners of your mouth twitch, trying hard not to smile like a complete idiot. “i figured. what with the fifteen missed calls.”

“okay, first of all,” she said, stepping fully into the apartment now, shrugging off her jacket, “ten of those were because i forgot the time difference and thought you were ghosting me.”

“you forgot the time difference?” you repeated, crossing your arms with a skeptical look.

megan turned around, eyes wide and unconvincing. “yes?”

you stared.

she caved. “no. i panicked. sue me.”

you closed the door behind her, shaking your head. “you’re ridiculous.”

“you like it,” she said without missing a beat, flopping dramatically onto your couch.

you didn’t deny it. instead, you walked over and stood behind the couch, arms draped loosely over the back as you looked down at her.

“so what’s the plan now that you’re back?” you asked.

megan grinned, tossing her head back to look up at you. “coffee. your favorite ramen place. a movie i’ll definitely talk through. and if you’re really lucky, maybe i’ll even let you win at mario kart.”

“bold of you to assume you’d be letting me win,” you said.

“bold of you to think you could beat me,” she fired back, eyes sparkling.

you met her gaze, heart stuttering, voice softer now. “i’m really glad you’re here.”

her grin faltered just a bit, and something gentler settled into her expression. “me too,” she said. “more than you know.”

for a moment you just stared at her, the moment truly settling in. you really did miss her. texting and phone calls were one thing, but seeing her in person was another. her goofy smile, the way she locked in like she didn’t just drop the funniest bomb known to mankind, the way she laughed as if she didn’t care who was watching. she was just one girl and yet, she consumed the space so beautifully without even knowing. 

you almost did it then. almost opened your mouth and let the words tumble out. but you didn’t. instead you settled on a small smile. 

you were about to ask megan if she wanted water when your phone buzzed against the counter. you didn’t need to look to know who it was. you’d spent the entire night before (and entire day honestly) lighting up your text chain with yunjin. sure enough, when you unlocked your screen and peered down, there she was. 

yunjin [7:13pm]: is she there yet or did she ghost you after all that build-up

yunjin [7:13pm]: respond right now or else i’ll think you confessed and blacked out from emotional overload. 

you rolled your eyes and typed back quickly with one hand while grabbing two glasses with the other.

you [7:14pm]: she’s here. no blackouts. yet.

yunjin [7:14pm]: yet???  i’m counting the minutes. btw u should ask her to come to the party tn. i think sungchan wanted to introduce u to someone too, so ur contractually obligated to show up. 

the idea of sungchan wanting to introduce you to someone made your blood run cold. the last time that happened, you ended up stuck in a corner with shindong rambling about crypto, diet tips, and the “glory days” of SM for thirty painfully long minutes.

still, you swallowed the groan bubbling up in your throat and slipped your phone into your pocket before yunjin could fire off something even more unhinged. when you turned back toward the living room, megan had curled herself sideways into the couch, one leg dangling off the edge, her head tilted back like she was trying to make sense of the ceiling tiles.

“was that yunjin?” she asked, grinning like she already knew the answer.

“unfortunately.”

“what’d she say? wait, don’t tell me. something dramatic, slightly invasive, and definitely teasing.”

you handed her a glass of water with a dry look. “spot on. she wants to know if you’re real or just a figment of my imagination.”

megan raised an eyebrow. “and what did you tell her?”

“that you’re here.” you smirked. “look at miss nosey over here.”

she raised both hands in mock surrender, barely hiding her smile. “hey, what can I say? i’m working on a phd for not being able to mind my own damn business.”

you laughed, shaking your head. the kind of laugh that came easily around her. and then, remembering the rest of yunjin’s message, you leaned your weight against the back of the couch, fingers tapping idly on the cushions.

“she’s throwing a party tonight,” you said. “something about celebrating a new album drop. you should come. bring the girls.”

megan sat up a little straighter, sipping her water with the kind of dramatic flair that made you snort. “a party? are there going to be snacks?”

“probably.”

“alright, i’m in. but only if there are snacks and minimal small talk. and maybe karaoke.”

“so you want snacks, bad lighting, and a mic. noted.”

“see, you get me.” she beamed, already reaching for her phone. “i’ll text the girls. we’ll make it a proper entrance.”

you rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. your heart was too full for your own good. “god help us all.”

__

the drive over was chaotic in the way only megan’s presence could make it. she’d managed to wrangle sophia and daniela into coming, predictably the two most likely to say yes to the word “party” before even hearing the rest of the sentence. manon and lara had tapped out almost immediately. yoonchae hadn’t even bothered pretending she was considering it.

megan drove, one hand lazily on the wheel, the other dancing over the radio dial every five seconds. you sat in the front passenger seat, watching her in the glow of passing streetlights.

sophia leaned forward from the back. “so, y/n,” she started, voice thick with mischief, “how’s it feel being megan’s favorite girl?”

“sophia,” megan warned without looking away from the road.

daniela snorted, flinging a gummy at the back of megan’s head. “what? it’s true. we’ve heard more about y/n in the last six months than we have about anyone else.” then she turned to you, leaning forward besides sophia. “i was starting to think she made you up.”

“my god, you guys are worse than lara and manon.” megan muttered, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. she glanced at you, caught the smile playing on your lips, and groaned. “you’re both so annoying.”

“say you love her and we’ll shut up,” daniela sang from the backseat.

“i will crash this car,” megan said flatly, but her ears were pink.

you turned in your seat, raising an eyebrow at the two girls behind you. “this what you do on every drive?”

“only when the company’s good,” sophia grinned.

by the time you walked up to the le sserafim dorm, the music could already be heard before you even reached the front door. the air outside buzzed with voices and laughter. 

you barely had time to step over the threshold before you heard it. 

“there she is!”

yunjin materialized out of the crowd like she owned the place. which, sure, she basically did. it was her party afterall.  she practically skipped the last few steps toward you. before you could get a word in, she grabbed your hand, pulled you into a hug that was half tackle, half dance spin, and leaned back to look you over. “hi, hello, love you, you look disgustingly hot—don’t even try to run, i’ve got plans for us tonight.”

you barely had time to laugh before she clocked the girls behind you. “megan!” she called, eyes lighting up as she pulled you into the house. “and you brought the fun ones! hi, sophia. hi, daniela.”

“you act like we don’t always show up,” sophia said with a grin, accepting the hug yunjin offered.

“it’s not a real party unless daniela’s threatening to outdrink everyone,” yunjin replied.

“not a threat if it’s true,” daniela said, winking.

megan held up her hands in mock surrender. “i told them to behave.”

“why would you do that?” yunjin laughed. “no, i want full chaos tonight. come find me later, i’m kidnapping y/n for a minute.”

you looked back at megan just as yunjin tugged you into the crowd, her hand firm in yours. megan simply grinned, the light catching her face just enough to make your heart skip.

and then the music swallowed you whole.

some part of you couldn’t help but feel a little bit annoyed. truth be told, you’d have rathered been home with megan. caught up on lost time and put on a movie. maybe stepbrothers, because you know it’s one of her favorites from one of your many late night conversations. 

instead, you were here. loud music, dim lights, and the kind of packed crowd that made it hard to think. it wasn’t awful. yunjin’s parties never were. her friends were warm and welcoming, even if chaewon had greeted you with a smug “so where’s megan?” the second you walked in. but still, your eyes kept drifting.

you caught sight of her across the room, laughing at something sophia said, a hand tucked into the pocket of her baggy jeans. daniela was already halfway into a dance battle with some guy in a bucket hat. megan wasn’t doing anything extraordinary. she was just… being. but somehow, that was enough to pull your gaze every time.

you tried to focus on the conversation happening around you. tried to lean into the easy rhythm of old friends and new music. but your mind had already wandered. back to the idea of megan beside you on the couch. back to her laugh. back to the quiet. back to her. always her.

eventually you took a step back when the cup yunjin shoved into your hands was getting empty. 

“gonna get a refill.” you shouted lamely over the music. you didn’t wait for her to respond before you were stalking your way to the kitchen. 

it was in that space you were able to truly look around. you didn’t miss the curious glances shot your way, no, that would’ve been impossible. it felt incredibly vain to acknowledge that you were an idols idol, but you knew. 

you were halfway refilling your cup with some kind of soju concoction when a voice cut through the air. 

“y/n!”

you looked up and immediately locked eyes with a familiar pair of browns. a tall, handsome figure weaved through the crowd toward you, his shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes just enough to make him look like he hadn’t planned a single part of his night. sungchan grinned, all coy charm and childish mischief. you groaned the second he pulled you into a rough side hug, the unmistakable scent of alcohol clinging to his clothes like cologne. still, your arms came up automatically, returning the hug without a second thought. for all his nonsense, sungchan had always been a good friend.

“i want to introduce you to someone.”

you turned just as sungchan stepped aside, and there she was. karina.

you had never met her in person before, but you might as well have. her face was everywhere. it lit up across high-rise billboards in gangnam, looping through luxury brand ads on the subway monitors, popping up on your explore page whenever you so much as breathed near the fashion or idol tag. you remembered the way jaewook had bragged about her back on set a year ago when the dispatch article dropped. he had shown his phone to his costar like it was breaking news, grinning like he had just won something. you had rolled your eyes, walked off to get coffee, and told yourself it wasn’t your business. it wasn’t, until now.

karina was even more stunning in person. her beauty wasn’t the kind that made a scene or demanded attention. it just existed, like it belonged there. her gaze met yours and stayed, unwavering.

it wasn’t rude, or even intense in a threatening way. just… focused. present. like she wasn’t just seeing you but actually registering you.

you were suddenly very aware of your posture, your hands, your everything.

“it’s so nice to meet you!” she called over the music, her voice warm and clear even with the bass thudding through the walls. she stepped just a little closer, enough that you could hear her without leaning in. “i love your stuff. seriously. i’ve been asking sungchan to introduce us for ages, but he’s always chickened out at the last second.”

sungchan made a wounded noise, hand over his chest like she’d just stabbed him, but before he could fire back, wonbin came stumbling past, arm slung around his neck with all the grace of a wrecking ball. they disappeared into the crowd in a tangle of laughter and chaos.

you rolled your eyes and turned back to karina, only to find that her gaze hadn’t left you once. her eyes held yours with that same calm, curious steadiness, like she wasn’t in a packed party but somewhere quieter. somewhere smaller.

you offered a small smile. “likewise. though to be fair, i think he just gets intimidated around pretty girls.”

her lips curved. “pretty, huh?”

you blinked, brain catching up three seconds too late. “oh god, sorry. i don’t know why i said that. yunjin handed me a cup earlier and i don’t even know what was in it. she could’ve poisoned me for all i know.”

karina laughed, the sound easy and low. “knowing her, it’s probably something criminal. you’ll wake up with a hangover and a new life philosophy.”

you laughed too, but it faltered slightly when she leaned in, just enough for her shoulder to brush against yours. it was nothing, a light touch, but it grounded you instantly.

“don’t worry,” she said, voice softer now, “i think you’re pretty too.”

your heart stuttered.

you opened your mouth, but whatever you meant to say vanished the second her smile deepened.

“not to be dramatic or anything,” karina said, lifting her cup for a slow, nonchalant sip, “but i think we’re being watched.”

you blinked. “watched?”

“mhm. i can feel her eyes burning holes into the back of my head. like a laser pointer. i’m actually a little afraid to turn around.”

you tilted your head, letting your eyes scan the room until you found her. megan, standing across the floor. at some point sophia had shoved her cup into megan’s hands and joined daniela on the dance floor. the chinese girl clutched the cup in both hands like it might leap out of them if she didn’t keep a death grip on it. her expression was neutral, but her stare? not subtle.

you cleared your throat. “who, megan? no, no, she’s—”

“look at the way she’s holding that cup,” karina cut in, a grin already pulling at her lips. “you’d think she just watched the most annoying man on earth walk in and ruin everyone’s mood.”

you huffed. “reminds me of a certain six-foot-something actor with a god complex.”

karina snorted, her eyes flashing with recognition before she laughed for real this time, head tipping back for just a second. she knew who you were talking about almost immediately. the one man you had in common besides sungchan happened to be her very tall (very annoying) ex. 

“right. i forgot you know jaewook.”

you raised an eyebrow. “unfortunately.”

“hey,” she said, still grinning. “he’s not that bad. underneath all the bravado he’s actually kind of sweet.”

“sure, you don’t need to convince me.”  you shrugged, completely deadpan. “if the dick’s bomb, it’s bomb.”

karina choked, hand flying to your shoulder as she doubled over in disbelief. she was laughing harder than before, and you felt a little thrill run down your spine at the sound of it.

when she straightened up again, she wiped at her eye and shook her head. “you’re going to wake up tomorrow and regret ever opening your mouth.”

“without a doubt,” you said, already sipping to forget.

“i think i want some of what you’re having,” karina said, eyes glittering with mischief as she swirled the liquid in her cup. “it’s my cue to go find the woman of the hour. but before i do…”

she leaned in, slower this time. you thought she was going to say something else right away, but then her mouth dipped lower, her breath warm as it ghosted the curve of your jaw. you stiffened in surprise, the proximity making your pulse stumble. her lips came dangerously close to your ear, just barely brushing your skin when she spoke.

“that girl. megan.” her voice dropped to something sly and sweet. “she wants you. it’s written all over her face. she hasn’t stopped staring since i walked over. so how about you use some of that liquid courage and do something about it?”

your breath caught, cheeks burning with the kind of heat no drink could explain. karina pulled away just as slowly, and her smile was soft but wicked. it said a hundred things at once. 

 i’m glad we met, good luck out there, don’t screw this up.

then she was gone, slipping into the crowd like she had always belonged to it. her red solo cup bobbed above the sea of people as she drifted toward the corner where yunjin and chaewon were doubled over in laughter.

you didn’t even have time to process it before someone else stepped into her place.

megan.

her arm brushed yours, then stayed there, her hand wrapping gently around the bend of your elbow. she was close. so close. close enough that you could smell the perfume on her skin,  something cool and soft, mint layered with warm vanilla. it hit you all at once that it was yours. a bottle that had disappeared from your vanity six months ago before katseye left korea. and now here it was, clinging to her in the most dizzying way.

your body flushed with heat that had nothing to do with the music or the alcohol. your eyes traveled up, taking in the sheen of sweat along her collarbones and the way her skin glowed under the lights. her crop top clung to her in all the right places, her stomach taut from dancing. you could still see the echo of her movement in the way her breath rose and fell, chest barely brushing yours.

you finally looked at her face again. she was already staring.

her eyes were darker than you remembered, shadowed and unreadable, fixed on you with something that felt like pressure and want and restraint all tangled up into one look. her lips were drawn in a line, neither smiling nor frowning, but firm with intent.

the air between you thinned.

you weren’t sure who would speak first. or if either of you had to. not with the way the tension folded in and around you like the bass from the speakers. not with the way her fingers curled just slightly against your arm, like she wasn’t ready to let go.

“oh. hey. you doing okay?” you asked, voice raised slightly over the music pulsing around you.

megan didn’t answer right away. her eyes stayed locked on yours for a beat too long, and just when you thought she might finally say something, her gaze dropped. slow and deliberate. it traced the line of your jaw and landed just beneath your ear. her expression shifted. something flickered across her face, subtle but sharp. a furrow of her brow that sent a wave of nerves crashing down your spine.

before you could speak again, she brought her thumb to her lips and wet it. then, without hesitation, she reached forward and pressed that same thumb to your neck. her touch was warm, careful. a soft swipe against your skin.

your breath caught.

“she left lipstick on you,” she murmured, quiet but clear enough to cut through the noise.

your hand shot up on instinct, palm flattening over the spot just beneath your ear. you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, blood rushing too fast under your skin.

“o-oh. yeah. was an accident,” you stammered, the words clumsy as they left your mouth.

megan didn’t respond right away. she just hummed.  low, unreadable. then her hand slid down from your elbow, fingers grazing your forearm like she couldn’t quite decide if she wanted to hold on or let go. eventually she settled, her grip tightening just enough that you felt the weight of it. like an anchor. like a warning. like something unspoken passing between the two of you that neither of you had the guts to name.

not yet, anyway.

for a long second, she just stood there, saying nothing. she didn’t blink, didn’t move. only stared.

you shifted on your feet. “did… did i do something wrong?”

her voice was steady, but low. “let me drive you home.”

you blinked. “oh. okay.” it came out softer than you meant, a whisper carried easily between you. she heard it all the same.

‎ 

you weren’t sure how much time passed between then and now. one moment you were alone in the kitchen of yunjin’s dorm, the next megan was muttering something to sophia and daniela under her breath,  a rushed string of syllables that made them blink once, twice, and nod. she grabbed your hand without waiting for an answer and pulled you toward the door. you felt the weight of every pair of eyes that followed you on your way out. yunjin’s brow arched with thinly veiled amusement. sungchan mouthed something that looked suspiciously like “what did you do.” and karina… she didn’t say a word. she just winked.

now you were in the passenger seat of megan’s car, the inside dim and quiet save for the faint hum of the engine and the soft patter of rain beginning to hit the windshield. your buzz had all but faded, replaced by something heavier, something laced with nerves. megan’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles had gone pale. the jaw that was so often relaxed with laughter and teasing was now set and stiff.

you turned to face her fully. “megan. what’s going on with you?”

she didn’t look at you. her gaze stayed fixed on the road ahead as if it held all the answers she couldn’t bring herself to say aloud.

“when did you and karina get so close?” she asked, too casual to be convincing.

you tilted your head, eyes narrowing. “are you jealous?”

there was a beat of silence. then she scoffed. 

“no!…. yes. fuck, y/n, i don’t know. i don’t know what i feel. all i know is that seeing her in your space like that just— it just drives me crazy.”

the car hummed beneath you, megan’s hands gripping the wheel like she was holding onto something more fragile than the leather beneath her fingers. she floored it the moment she pulled onto the main road. fast, reckless as always. the first time you rode passenger princess in her car, you practically grabbed onto the seat for dear life. except tonight, you didn’t even mind. you couldn’t look away. her jaw clenched tight, the faint pulse at her temple a rhythm you felt in your own chest.

the car sped down the dimly lit road of your penthouse’s underground parking, tires echoing against concrete walls. megan didn’t slow until she pulled into a quiet corner, the only sound the engine’s low hum. just the two of you now.

her jaw was tight, eyes sharp. “karina,” she spat, voice low and rough. “she was all in your space like she owns it.”

you met her glare, feeling the heat rising between you. “megan, i just met her.”

 her hand clenched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles went white.

“yeah, well, she sure didn’t act like it,” megan bit out. “in your ear, touching your arm like you’ve been hers for years. you think i didn’t see the way she looked at you?”

you blinked at her, pulse quickening. “why does it even matter?”

megan turned to you then, full body, her eyes blazing. “because it does. because you’re not just some friend i joke around with anymore, y/n.”

the silence that followed was thick, pressing. you stared at her, at the curve of her jaw clenched in frustration, at the way her chest rose and fell like she’d just run a sprint. her brows were furrowed, but beneath the frustration was something else. something that made your stomach twist and your fingers curl tight around your seatbelt.

“megan…”

she exhaled hard, dropping her head back against the headrest for a second like she was trying to force the words out. then her voice came, rough and low. “i can’t stand seeing someone else touch you like that. it makes me feel like i’m gonna lose my mind.”

you reached out, hand hovering before it found hers on the console between you. her fingers twitched under yours, like she was deciding whether to pull away or pull you closer.

“you’re not gonna lose your mind,” you said quietly. “you’re just finally saying what we’ve both been thinking.”

she didn’t reply. didn’t need to. you swallowed, heart hammering. this wasn’t the easy conversation you’d expected. it was raw, jagged, real. her eyes locked onto yours, wild and fierce. for a moment, you could almost feel the weight of everything she hadn’t said hanging between you.

without warning, she leaned in, closing the space with a fierce urgency. her lips crashed against yours, rough and demanding, like she needed to prove something. your breath hitched, caught off guard but all in.

it was messy, desperate, the kind of kiss that didn’t ask for permission. your hands found her hair, pulling her closer. she growled low, the tension snapping as the lines between friends and something more shattered.

it was a blur after that. megan barely killed the engine before the two of you were out of the car, walking fast and too close as you made your way through the quiet underground garage. her hand hovered at your back, not quite touching, but you could feel the heat of it through your shirt. the elevator ride was silent, charged, her reflection burning holes into yours through the metal walls.

the second your door swung open, you were on her again. the lock clicked behind you as you pressed her up against the door, mouths crashing together like you’d both run out of time. your hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, greedy for skin. she kissed you like she needed you to breathe.

“y/n,” she breathed out, but whatever she was going to say got lost in the next kiss, your name drowned out by the low thud of her back hitting the hallway wall.

you didn’t even think, just grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the bedroom, feet stumbling, laughter breaking through the tension for a split second. she followed without hesitation, eyes locked on you like she was trying to memorize the way you looked at her now. 

as soon as you hit the threshold of the room, your mouths found each other again. she kicked the door shut behind her without looking, hands already tugging at the hem of your shirt like she’d waited too long for this. 

she pulled away after a moment to simply stare. 

megan looked at you. the kind of stare that could melt ice. her gaze traces the lines of your body like she was hungry, yet still she said nothing. she swallowed, her lips pursing together as she weighed her own thoughts in her mind. her eyes trailed up and down before finally they settle themselves again on yours. it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what she was thinking in this very moment. you could practically read her through her silence. the way she practically itched to say something funny, to break the tension with a lighthearted joke in true megan fashion. but she couldn’t. her body was reacting as much as yours was. she trembled slightly, her chest rising up and down as if she was struggling to take in air. but it was pure anticipation. when she talks her voice is careful, hesitant, like she was afraid that one wrong word would break the quiet you slipped into. 

“how do i tell you that i want you without making a fool of myself?”

your breath hitched when suddenly she moved. she took a step closer, and instinctively you take a step back. the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you’re falling back. the only thing you can do is sit stupidly and stare up at her as she stares down. she was already tall, but now she loomed over you. 

she was so unlike herself. just ten minutes ago she was fumbling over her own feet, giggling between kisses as her fingers clumsily trailed up and down the warm skin on your back. now, she was confident. like she was looking at you through the lens of someone who realized in the span of a quick ten minutes that they were standing before something holy. 

you hum. “you say it. tell me, megan.”

she doesn’t hesitate. she nudges your legs apart so she’s standing between them now, your legs trapping her in. her hands instinctively raise to the back of your head, one idly playing with the baby hairs on the nape of your neck while the other gently grabbed your chin. she didn’t ask, just simply gripped your chin between her thumb and index finger and tugged. she leaned down slightly , so close that you could feel her hot breath hitting you. when she talks, her voice is quiet. 

“i want you, y/n.”

she moved one inch closer, and her lips brush yours. it was faint. a feather light touch, but it sent shivers down your spine all the same. her eyes dropped back and forth between your eyes and your lips, the grip she had on your chin tightening momentarily before she let go. her hand lazily drifted down from your face and to your chest, fingertips just lightly grazing your skin. and then, she moved the other hand. the hand that once played with the hairs on the back of your neck now moved to the front, fingertips dancing along your throat. she hums. her voice dripped like venom, tantalizing and dangerous all in the same breath. 

“you have no idea how bad.”

you swallow, and megan feels it against the hand she held to your neck when her fingers gently reach out and clasp. nothing tight. but she doesn’t say anything. she simply stares. her eyes dark, her face unreadable save for only the pure want clear in her words. through the grip on your throat, you reply. your voice fell to a whisper, though just as confident as her own. 

“then show me.”

she didn’t need to be told twice. the grip she held on your neck tightened just slightly before she relented. her lips which once grazed yours finally surged the small distance. she kissed you, every emotion she pushed to the back of her mind finally coming out in full force. she tilted her head, a soft sigh of relief escaping her when you met her kiss with equal fervor. 

this was it. the moment where finally, she’d let herself cave. the moment where megan would lose her inhibitions and finally be true to both herself, and to you. being so close to you in this moment made her full body vibrate. you were intoxicating, and she was addicted.

 megan deepened the kiss, her tongue gently swiping across your bottom lip. when you don’t open your mouth, she bites your lip. taking advantage of the gasp you let out, her tongue darts in. without words, her intentions were clearer than daylight. 

she wanted you, and she wanted bad. 

the grip on your neck only tightened until eventually you needed to pull back for air. a string of saliva coated your lips when she pulled back, her grip on your throat relaxing. but she doesn’t mind. she lets you breathe, feels your chest rise and fall beneath her full hand as she trails open mouthed kisses down from your swollen lips to your jaw, and then your neck. she littered kisses around the area her hand clasped around only moments ago, soothing the dull feeling of a phantom grip. 

through your haze and a short gasp, you couldn’t help but tease her. 

“who knew you had that in you, huh, skiendiel?”

megan answered with a simple bite to your neck. a nibble, soothed over with a faint swipe of her tongue immediately after. it was enough to shut you up, if even for a moment. she hummed. 

“can’t help myself. you’ve no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this.”

this time it was your turn to raise a hand and gently play with her hair, her mouth still working at your jaw and throat. you sigh, your fingers clasping around a clump of her dark hair. you shake your head. 

“what, are you trying to tell me this is the only reason you asked for my number all those months ago?”

she knew you were joking, that you were being facetious. still she couldn’t help but frown. she dropped fully to her knees now between your legs, still fully trapped by your legs on either side of her. from this angle as she pulled away from your neck, she looked up at you through her sleepy eyes and pink bangs. 

“maybe this part was wishful thinking. but no, not the only reason.” her hands trailed down again, finding your skin beneath your shirt. her hands were so numbingly cold despite the warmth in her gaze. her hand pressed against your lower stomach, feeling the way your abdomen clenched slightly against her cold palm. she looked at you with her half lidded eyes and all you saw was sincerity. she continues. 

“you’ve no idea how hard it is to keep my hands to myself when you’re you. but fuck, look at you now.” her other hand reaches for the hem of your shirt and now she tugs, her touch gentle despite the bite in her words when she says her next words. “you’re mine, baby.”

the words set something off in you. something that lit a fire in the deepest pits of your stomach, begging to be addressed. and megan knew it. 

and so, she did. 

__

you weren’t sure at what point you fell asleep. all you knew was that when you woke up, you were in your own bed. the blankets were pulled up beneath your chin but it wasn’t their warmth that clung to you like it was moulded for your body, and yours only. 

your eyes trailed over to the sleeping girl besides you. megan’s arm wrapped around your torso, holding you close. her bare body pressed against yours had a chill running down your spine. you could already feel the hickeys forming on your neck, the bruises on your thighs. you could feel the phantom feeling of her nails scratching down your back and her coaxing whispers lingering in your ears. 

megan had practically transformed into a completely different person. the memory of her eyes, dark and dangerous, had you inadvertently shifting closer to her. the slight movement was enough to wake her. a deep, sleepy groan pulled from her lips as she subconsciously nuzzled herself closer into you. when her eyes fluttered open and they landed on you, the difference was night and day. 

she was nervous. shy. she practically hid her face in your neck only to turn red in embarrassment when she was met face to face with the marks she left on your throat. when she speaks her voice is low, awkward. 

“i-i, uh, you know. i’m so sorry. too much? probably. oops.”

despite the situation, you couldn’t help but laugh. the sound alone made her groan, her head digging even deeper into you as if the action alone would hide her from your teasing. a classic ‘if i can’t see you, you can’t see me’ kind of thing. 

“it’s okay, megan.”

she looked up at that, her cheeks still flushed red. but there was no mistaking the way her shoulders relaxed. she looked back at you and it’s then the events from the night before seemed to finally settle in. it’s in this lighting that you realized, again, just how gorgeous she is. the way her hair framed her face even when she was ridden with bedhead. the way her soft lips pouted involuntarily, the way her sleepy eyes looked up at you through her lashes. she was so, unbelievably beautiful without even needing to try. you couldn't help but wonder if she knew this as well as you could see it. 

with a newfound sense of confidence, she suddenly leaned forward. her lips found yours and unlike the fit of messy kisses she gave you the night before, now she takes her time.  when she pulls away, pink dusts her cheeks. 

“i can’t believe we did… that.”

you raise a brow. “oh? pray tell why you’re so surprised.”

megan’s eyes practically blow wide. “seriously? you’re not even the slightest bit shocked and overwhelmed and- a-and, i don’t know, lowkey kinda freaking the fuck out? i mean jeez. you’re you!”

before you can reply she’s already continuing. her arm around your torso tightens, a look of pure shock and elation cemented across her face. 

“do you have any idea how scared it makes me knowing that you’re practically in a league of your own? i mean, shit, you walk into a room and everyone stares. i walk in and everyone waits for me to break my own leg! you’re you. and i’m me. and this just doesn’t make any sense, a-and-“

you turn slightly so you’re facing her fully, her arm around you not slipping but loosening just enough. you shake your head, a hand reaching up gently to swipe her hair from her vision. her pink bangs covered her eyes just slightly, hiding the state of pure frazzle in their depths. you can’t help but chuckle softly. 

when your lips tilt up at the corners, a small grin gracing your face, megan stopped rambling. she was so, completely, irrevocably enamored by you in a way that it hurt her brain. 

when you leaned forward just enough to seal her lips with your own, her breath catches in her throat, silenced. for a moment you both lay there. her arm around your torso now moving to lightly grip your waist, her fingers digging in just barely as if she was grounding herself in the moment. your hand cupped her jaw, the kiss deepening just a second longer. when you pull away, her eyes are blown wide. she stares back at you in equal parts awe, and fear. she was completely undone by you. 

“relax.”

the simple word was all she needed. she nodded her head stupidly and obediently, her lips pursing so tight together as if you’d given her a command she’d follow til her last breath. 

your grin softens into a small smile. “you’re such a loser, megan.”

megan grimaced. the kind of look that was half part an awkward smile, and half part an embarrassment pout.  she burrows her head into your chest with a drawn out groan. she feels the way your body vibrates when you chuckle, hears the way your heart skipped a beat with her ear pressed to your bare chest. and in that moment, she decided. 

no amount of embarrassment would ever outweigh the pride she felt in knowing that it was her you were holding that very morning. 

__

a month passed. 

megan hadn’t planned on going live. it was one of those quiet nights that felt heavier than it should have. the dorm was calm. daniela had vanished into her room with a face mask and a bowl of cereal. sophia had crashed early. the silence made everything feel louder.

so she pulled on an oversized hoodie (your hoodie) and went live from her bed. nothing fancy. just her and her phone, legs tucked under her, the soft yellow light from her nightstand casting a warm glow across the screen.

“hi,” she said, voice soft with that slight rasp it always had when she was winding down. “i couldn’t sleep.”

the chat exploded immediately. hearts, greetings, inside jokes, fans asking about everything from what she had for dinner to her favorite stage outfit from the last comeback. she answered a few, laughed quietly when someone asked if lara still sleep-talked. her fingers toyed absentmindedly with the sleeve of her hoodie as she scrolled.

“what’s the weirdest dream you’ve had recently?” she read aloud, smiling. “okay, so i had this one where i was back in high school, but for some reason all the desks were made of jello, and sophia was my teacher? yeah, no idea. my brain is a strange place.”

another wave of hearts. more laughing emojis. the mood stayed easy, casual, soft around the edges.

then came the question. fast, buried in a sea of others, but megan’s eyes caught it and held.

“who’s that in the background?”

she blinked.

then turned, just slightly, to glance behind her.

there, on the edge of the bed, barely in frame, was you. hoodie half-zipped, face makeup-free, curled against a pillow and blinking slow from the comfort of just having woken up from a nap you hadn’t even meant to take.

megan looked back at the camera, lips tugging into a smile that was both shy and completely unbothered.

“guess the secret’s out,” she said, voice low but steady.

the chat exploded again, this time in full-blown chaos. some fans caught on immediately. others were in denial. a few begged her to clarify, but she didn’t.

instead, she leaned back against the headboard, reached over, and laced her fingers with yours. you blinked blearily, took a second to realize what was happening, then gave a soft laugh.

“hi,” you murmured, just loud enough to be heard. “sorry, i kind of knocked out.”

“it’s okay,” megan said, thumb brushing against the back of your hand. “you’re cute when you sleep.”

the live didn’t last much longer after that. she answered one or two more questions, gave the usual love you guys and get some rest, then signed off.

but the clip stayed. it spread fast, faster than either of you expected. screen recordings, gifs, screenshots, fan theories shifting into confirmed realities. by morning, your names were trending side by side.

and just like that, it wasn’t speculation anymore.

it was real. it was official.

it was you and her. finally.

[c4llezz]

NOW THAT WE'VE MET AGAIN

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

TW: drinking

genre: fluff

pairing: idol!sophia x reader

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

not proofread, so expect mistakes.

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

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

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

it wasn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

leave as soon as practice ended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

the only problem? getting sophia to agree.

“sure, i’ll go with you”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

she gagged, “ugh, what is this?”

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

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

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

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

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

“drink it now,” sophia dared you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what about her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“here”

“just here?”

another sip “mostly”

“sophia!”

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

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

“manon’s being annoying.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“well, secrets out,” sophia said sighing.

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

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

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

“great. prepare for endless teasing.”

“how bad can it get?”

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

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

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

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

[edamameiyok]

risk it all (lara raj x reader SMAU)

when katseye first debuts, lara makes a stan twitter account solely to spy on eyekons and interact with them without revealing her identity. you and her have been moots for months, only ever interacting on the tl. on a whim, you decide to do a face reveal for eyekon selca day and lara falls in love immediately. there are only a few problems: you have no idea who she actually is, you’re with a girl who doesn’t deserve you, and to top it all off, you’re a manon bias. she isn’t even your bias wrecker. oh, she knows she’s cooked.

tws: kms/kys jokes. lots of swearing and some suggestive humor so minors pls dni!

tags: smau, crack, fluff, might get angsty! sexual jokes, lots of swearing, future suggestive themes.

feat: katseye, keeho from p1h, ryujin and lia from itzy, winter from aespa + more to come!

pairing: lara raj x gn!reader

status: on going!

notes: this smau is not a REAL portrayal of the people in this fic and are not based on any real-life events. this was made for entertainment purposes. some idols’ ages were changed for the plot. all pics are from pinterest! dividers were made by me in canva pro!

✧.* taglist is open ✧.*

profiles: katseye bible study 1 ojos de gatos 1 2

chapters:

allegedly

katseye selca day

so ur thirsty

HR

my chingu

vanilla w/ buttercream frosting

to be continued...

[lascvitae]

BOUT MINE ✵ LARA RAJ.

❀ ༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ alt. I BET YOU KNOW I

DON’T PLAY ABOUT MINE .ᐟ

ᝰ.ᐟ during katseye’s calvin klein shoot, a guy asks for a photo with you — and lara shuts it down before you can give a proper answer.

ᝰ.ᐟ pairing. lara x 7th member of katseye!reader ᝰ.ᐟ genre. fluff ᝰ.ᐟ warnings/tags. jealous && pouty lara, kissing

ᝰ.ᐟ wc 1.9k

ᝰ.ᐟ katty katseye x calvin klein when... also requested by anon

(🎧) now playing — bout mine by mariah the scientist.

masterlist.

THE AIR IN THE STUDIO IS THICK. you can feel the heat from the lights, hear the buzz of cameras clicking, and someone calling for more gloss. you’re standing in front of a white backdrop in calvin klein briefs and a white tank top, and the hem of the shirt just barely covers anything. it clings to your body like it knows who’s watching.

and you know who’s watching.

lara hasn’t taken her eyes off you once.

she’s off to the side, still in her solo set outfit: jeans and a calvin sports bra with one arm slung over the back of a metal stool. there’s a bottle of water in her hand she hasn’t touched. she’s just sat there the whole time, gaze fixed on you like she’s not in a studio surrounded by stylists, lighting techs, and your bandmates.

you flick your eyes toward her mid pose. she doesn’t flinch or look away. she smirks.

“lift your arms just a little. perfect. chin down, eyes right here.” the photographer says.

you hold the pose and let your mouth fall open just slightly. and still, somewhere behind all of the heat coming down onto you, you can feel lara’s stare dragging down your legs.

it’s not the first time she’s seen you in this outfit, but it’s the first time anyone else has.

you’re toweling off sweat and oil near the monitor when someone taps your shoulder.

“hey.” he says while grinning. it’s one of the male models from the joint campaign. you’ve spoken, like, twice.

“you killed it. wanna get a shot together?” he adds.

you raise an eyebrow. “a photo?”

“yeah. just us. for the campaign. you looked… insane.” he glances down your body slowly, running a hand through his hair afterwards.

then he laughs like it’s a compliment. like lara isn’t standing ten feet away.

you glance down at yourself — tank still sticking to every curve, briefs showing just enough — then back up at him.

“insane, huh?”

he smiles again. “yeah. you’ve got good chemistry. we’d kill a frame.”

your lips twitch. you’re two seconds from saying something unserious — maybe “you couldn’t handle it” — when a voice cuts in coming from just behind him.

“she said no.”

he turns slightly.

lara’s standing now.

she must’ve moved while he was talking, because she’s right there, still in her calvin sports bra and jeans, arms crossed under her chest, not smiling. her eyes flick from his face to yours and back, slow and sharp, and her expression is unreadable.

the kind of unreadable that makes people nervous.

“she didn’t say anything yet.” the model says, trying to keep it light.

“she doesn’t need to.”

he laughs. awkward. “didn’t mean to step on any toes.”

her jaw ticks. “then don’t.”

you press your lips together to hide the smile threatening to break out onto your face. you love this version of her — cool, protective, and intimidating.

the guy mumbles something like “got it” and backs off without another word.

only once he’s fully gone and out of view does lara finally exhale. her arms drop from her chest and she moves toward you with a sigh.

you tilt your head. “you good?”

she frowns at your water bottle. “you let him stand too close.”

you laugh. “you were right there.”

“he was flirting with you.” she says, voice quiet but pouty.

you smile a little. “maybe. you were watching?”

she rolls her eyes. “i always watch.”

you lean closer, hand brushing her wrist. “and?”

lara’s lips purse dramatically. “and he was touching his hair. who even does that?”

you laugh and she frowns even more, bottom lip stuck out just a bit. she shifts her weight like she’s still a little annoyed. it’s like she’s trying to be mad but barely holding the pout back.

“i didn’t like the way he looked at you.”

“i liked the way you looked at me.”

her breath hitches and you squeeze her hand. “cmere.”

she steps closer automatically and you lean in to press a kiss, soft, short, and sweet, right to her mouth.

her eyes flutter closed for just a second.

and when you pull back, her lip gloss is on your mouth and her face is just a little less tense.

“still mad?” you whisper.

lara shrugs, but it’s useless. she’s already leaning into you again.

“you’re so dramatic.” you murmur, tugging her hand.

“he was annoying.”

“you’re jealous.”

“not jealous. i just don’t like sharing.” she says, eyes flicking down your tank top like she’s lying.

you smile wider. “you don’t have to. i’m all yours, remember?”

she hums, lashes fluttering. “say it again.”

you say it softer. “i’m yours.”

she tugs the hem of your tank a little lower, like it suddenly bothers her how much skin is showing. “good. then don’t let anyone else look at you like that.”

and even though it’s barely above a whisper, you feel it all over.

taglist — @saysirhc @m00nqvv @yuyuy90

[spiderb00]

- DOMESTICATED, L.R

"A stream with your friends may not go as planned when your girlfriend shows up to give you a warning"

warnings - fluff, reader is a streamer and a nerd, lara is bossy ;)

now playing - never lose me, by Flo Milli, SZA, Cardi B

"Tell me you don't ever wanna lose me"

Things were on fire on the live stream, the game you and your friends had chosen to play seemed silly at first, but soon things started to get a little heated between your friends.

Your friends' shouts were deafening to anyone outside, but the group of you didn't seem to be repulsed by the noise. The live chat didn't seem bothered either, spamming things and writing in caps lock just to match the tone of voice you were using.

You were red, the veins in your neck were popping and you'd lost count of how many times your mouse pad had been knocked off in the middle of a game.

The game you and your friends had chosen to stream today was among us, it had been a while since any of you had tried the game that had been a fever during the quarantine, so you decided to go back to the old days for at least one night.

“Oh no, you're going to blow that vein any minute...”

"IT WAS MEGAN! I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S THE IMPOSTOR!"

“dude, it's already 1:00 am, your neighbors hate you :/”

You laughed lightly at Chat's comments, knowing full well that your studio has very good soundproofing, precisely because of the thousands of warnings and fines you've received for noise.

"Chat, I'm putting a bit of emotion into this game. I have to shout at these guys, or they'll just swallow me alive!" You protested.

You knew that your friends were just as noisy as you, so it was either scream or simply be devoured by the sea of voices.

Once again, a body was found, everyone gathering to discuss what had happened. You were controlling yourself, complying with the chat requests and trying not to scream so much, but fate wasn't cooperating with you.

Or at least Megan wasn't.

“Yn was close to the body... just saying!” That was a very big lie, you were doing your tasks, far away from wherever the little pink-haired liar had found the body.

“THAT'S A LIE!” Yeah, you couldn't control it.

"IT'S TRUE! I SAW IT WITH MY OWN EYES!" Megan shouted back, a small noise coming from her headset.

"MEGAN SKIENDIEL, YOU'RE A LIAR! AND PROBABLY THE MURDERER!"

“WHY WOULD I BE THE MURDERER?”

“WHY ARE YOU LITERALLY ACCUSING ME!”

“YOU'RE GUILTY!”

The shouting increased, your other friends joining in the discussion, some believing you and others believing Megan. The Chinese girl shouting at the top of her voice how everyone should vote for you.

“MEGAN, I SWEAR, YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR...”

Suddenly, the door to your studio opened quickly, almost as if someone wanted to scold you about all your shouting and the unbearable noise coming from the room you were occupying.

When you saw Lara, your screams stopped, you let go of the button that allowed your microphone to turn on, and you took the headset out of your ears, letting it hang around your neck.

Your girlfriend was there, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, in her pajamas and with an angry expression on her face, even if her eyes still had a sleepy haze.

“You're shouting so loudly that I can hear you through the acoustic!” The black-haired girl raised an eyebrow, looking at you with the look you knew all too well. "It's one in the morning, babe. Are you losing your mind?"

Shrugging in your chair, you shrugged embarrassedly, totally forgetting that the live - audience could still see and hear you.

“Sorry, babe.”

And there it is, the voice soft and low, the voice the chat hasn't heard since you started playing. The veins in your neck have disappeared and the expressions on your face have softened since Lara entered the room.

“If you're not going to finish the live now, at least be aware that it's late.” The Indian girl approached, grabbing your chin and pulling you away from the camera.

Her free hand wrapped around your hair, pulling you into a slow kiss. Lara's lips made you dizzy, and your hands reached for her waist as if it were a law to be obeyed.

At this point, you didn't even remember that there was a camera capturing it all, but your fans were catching every second of it, either to make cuts, edits, or just commenting madly on the chat.

“Omg, people, she's SO domesticated!”

“The way her voice dropped sharply, lara knows better :0”

“I love it when a nerd gets a baddie 💅”

“Girl, are you going to get down on all fours and bark?”

Pulling away from the kiss, Lara winked at you, dumping you completely motionless on the gaming chair and leaving the room.

You leaned back in your seat, dreamy eyes glancing in the direction of the chat, only to see all the comments you'd missed during your girlfriend's visit.

“Hey, I'm not domesticated!” You said, getting up and sitting down properly in the chair.

Putting your headphones back on, you looked at the computer screen again, only to see your character being thrown from the spaceship, and the classic message saying you weren't the impostor appearing on the screen. You took a deep breath before turning your microphone back on.

“MEGAN!”

just a little fic for you guys, hope you enjoyed it. this is very short, cos it's just an idea I had while gaming with my friends.

anyway, what did you think of beautiful chaos? i just loved it, i think my top 5 is

1. gameboy

2. M.I.A

3. Gabriela

4. Mean girls

5. Gnarly

not that I don't like gnarly, don't get me wrong, but as I've listened to it many times, I'm really addicted to the other songs at the moment.

Anyway, stay safe and drink water,

xoxo, spider.

[sirenontheloose]

Please Don't Clip This

Crushes are just little heart attacks you enjoy

The livestream wasn’t planned. No announcement, no fancy setup. Just Y/N in her studio, sleeves pushed up, hair pulled into a loose bun, a mug sitting beside her laptop as Rosé’s new album played quietly in the background. She leaned forward to adjust the screen, face lit softly by the glow of the monitor.

"Hi," she started. "Was gonna listen to this alone, but figured I might as well have a little listening party with you guys."

The chat lit up instantly. Some fans welcomed her back, others teased her for ghosting them again. She skimmed the comments, eyes flicking left to right as a small smile tugged at her lips.

"Water," she said, lifting her mug. "No snacks sadly. This wasn’t planned," she pouted.

She let a few tracks play without interruption, swaying slightly to the beat, reading comments here and there while the music filled the room.Then someone asked about LA.

"When am I going back? Next week, actually. For about two weeks." She paused, then lowered her voice. "I don’t know if I can say this but... I’ll start working on my solo."

The comments instantly exploded. She didn’t elaborate, just smirked a little and took a sip like she hadn’t just dropped major news.

Then the tone of the chat shifted. Some fans asked what the solo would sound like, while others started suggesting people she should hang out with in LA. At first, it was casual. But then one name kept popping up.

KATSEYE.

And more specifically, Lara.

"Lara?" Y/N leaned forward again, squinting slightly to keep up with the flood of messages. "From KATSEYE?"

The comments answered immediately.

"Yeah, she’s in LA." "She said you’re her bias." "She mentioned she likes your tone and stage presence." "@lararaj, just look."

Y/N didn’t say anything. She just grabbed her phone and started typing.

A few seconds of silence passed. Her eyes locked onto the screen. Then she started scrolling, slowly.

For a good five minutes, there was nothing. No commentary. Just Y/N, completely locked in, quietly staring at her phone.

Her lips parted slightly. She blinked once. Then a quiet, almost breathless whisper escaped before she could stop it.

"Wow. She’s gorgeous."

The chat instantly lost it.

"She’s gone." "We’re watching her fall in real time." "HELLO???" "Down bad but respectfully." "This is the softest spiral ever." "She forgot we’re here."

Her mouth curved into a small, helpless smile. She tapped into a video post, watched it more than once probably, and only then did it seem to hit her that she wasn’t alone.

She set her phone down on the desk, screen facing down, and leaned back in her chair with a quiet, guilty sigh. One glance at the chat told her it was already too late.

"I hate you guys," she mumbled, tugging the sleeve of her hoodie over her hand and dragging it across her mouth like she could erase the past five minutes.

The teasing came fast.

"You’ve been quiet for three whole songs." "Are you okay? Blink twice if you’re in love." "Would you DM her?" "You’re smiling again."

Y/N laughed softly, sinking lower in her seat.

"I was just... looking."

More comments scrolled past.

"What if she sees this?" "Someone tag her." "It’s over for you, girl."

"Y’all..." she started, then stopped mid-sentence.

Her eyes froze on one comment.

hey?

The username next to it is @lararaj

She blinked. Once. Then again.

Silence.

The chat exploded.

"OH MY GOD." "NO WAY." "LARA ENTERED THE CHAT." "SHE’S HERE." "EVERYBODY STAY CALM." "SHE SAW EVERYTHING."

Y/N didn’t move. Her hands flew up to her face as she let out a soft, horrified laugh. Then she hunched forward over her desk like she could disappear into it, muttering,

"Nope. Nope. I’m ending this. I’m ending this right now."

She fumbled for her mouse, keeping her head low as her other hand stayed half-covering her face. Her ears were visibly pink. Her embarrassment was so real, it radiated through the screen.

"Thanks for hanging out," she said quickly. "Please don’t clip this. And Lara..." she hesitated, groaning softly, "if you’re here, I promise I’m not weird."

Then the screen cuts to black.

And the next morning, #ynra was trending in eight countries.

next masterlist

divider - @v6que

a/n - can you tell I'm obsessed with Rosé?, can't wait for "On My Mind" this Friday OMG. I’ve also been working on a few other one-shots, but none of them feel "fun" enough imo. Sooo if there’s anything you’d love to read or maybe tropes you’re into right now, let me know!

[coolwyous]

may i request lara gf headcanons from you to fill my lesbian heart 🤓

  ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙖, who always shows up 10 mins early to pick you up and yet doesn't text you 'i'm here' until the time you guys agreed upon. when you ask her about it, she says it's 'cause she's too excited to see you to just wait, but doesn't want you feeling rushed to get ready.   ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙖, who is infuriatingly good with your parents despite your constant hesitation that they'll embarrass you or judge you unfairly. yet each time she picks you up, she's buttering them up without laying it on too thick, learning things about your culture to be able to surprise them with and earn extra brownie points for.   ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙖, who is always the life of the party, easily charms your friends and makes them even forget that they were your friends first. you were worried about mixing friend groups but kind, charming lara has no issue inserting herself into the dynamic and making it extremely easy to include everyone without being overbearing.   ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙖, who's love language is absolutely gift giving, loves to snoop on your socials and see what kinds of trends you've been into. she's so crazy attentive, if you even briefly mention having found a shirt cute, it's on your bed the next day in your exact size, with a note on it saying "model for me later - lar <3"   ୭˚. (on the note of gift giving lara, she'll also give herself gifts and eagerly seek your attention for it. a new ring, a small tattoo, anything she gets she's immediately flaunting in your face, like a cat curliing up in your lap for attention, and batting her beautiful brown eyes up at you. "you like it, right?")   ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙖, who talks a big game up about being so tough and so protective, but is honestly just so down bad for you, and folds the moment you furrow your eyebrows and beg for her to let you be big spoon. that's not to say she doesn't claim you— you find your clothes smelling of her or her stealing your hats more often than you'd like to admit.   ୭˚. 𝙜𝙛!𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙖, who is secure without ever being toxic, and genuinely is just grateful to know you, who posts pictures of your eyelashes or a just-out-of-frame smile of you to her public story every single day. not performative couple shots, just simple, slice of life moments that she appreciates with you, and wants to hold onto forever.

[meiyokbf]

under your spell | megan x g!p!reader | part four

author's note: sorry for the delay babes, been moving places and my life has been insane. alsoooo, thoughts about “beautiful chaos”? my top favorites are gabriela, gnarly and mean girls!! lmk if you guys are enjoying UYS, my asks are always open for ideas, questions or thoughts regarding the UYS universe :) hope you guys like this chapter xoxo

warnings: mdni. stripper!megan x g!p!reader, slightly manon x lara. smut, dry humping, p in v, fingering (megan recieving), dirty talking (ish), smoking, idek megan being avoidant and pookie coded again, lara also being avoidant.

word count: 6,8k.

🏷️: katseye, megan x reader, megan skiendiel x reader, katseye x reader, katseye smut, megan smut, manon x lara, marz, daniela avanzini.

masterlist. | prev. I next.

you’d read the text so many times your screen had started to feel like it might file a complaint.

(y/n): my favorite jacket smells like you now. it’s kinda yours by law.

(y/n): you should come and reclaim your prize.

it was supposed to be funny. casual. something someone cool would send without immediately regretting it. and yet, by sunday morning, it had transformed into something too sharp to touch.

you sat curled on the end of the couch, wearing the hoodie like armor, knee bouncing like it had somewhere more confident to be. your annotated copy of pride and prejudice sat abandoned on the coffee table, open to a page you weren’t reading. you hoped that mr. darcy could wait; existential dread had RSVP’d early. and then you heard the sound of the door burst open.

— don’t ask me about rehearsal, i will cry or commit arson. — daniela’s voice rang out as she kicked the door closed with her heel.

you blinked up at her.

— oh. i didn’t know you were coming over.

— well, i needed to steal manon’s vegan protein bars and complain. and now i walk in and find this. — she gestured to your slumped posture, the haunted expression, the pride and prejudice trauma pile. — did someone die, or did you finally fall in love with a walking red flag?

— okay. both feel a little targeted.

she tossed her bag to the side, iced coffee in hand, and dropped into a squat next to you like she was assessing a casualty.

— talk to me, nerd.

you groaned, rubbing your face. — manon dragged me to that velvet room place on friday.

— the one that looks like the personification of a vanilla vape?

— yes. that one. and i… may have hooked up with someone.

daniela raised an eyebrow. — and i’m just hearing about this now?

— manon caught me doing the walk of shame. i told her. haven’t had a chance to-

— breathe? process? confess to your best friend?

— well, actually manon is my bes-

— to your best friend, daniela avanzini? betrayal. — she rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee. — who was it?

you hesitated. — her name’s megan. dances under jade. she’s… something else.

daniela blinked. — wait. the dancer with the pink bangs?

— yeah.

— and you didn’t think this was worth a single text?

you cringed. — we went back to her place. it was… a lot. but then the next morning she was distant. weird. and last night i sent this.

you handed over your phone to daniela. she read the message, then looked at you like you’d just handed her a handwritten will.

— “yours by law”? what are you, emily dickinson with attachment issues?

— i was going for fun flirty with a hint of possessive chic.

— you landed on please haunt me. congrats.

you let your head fall back against the cushion.

— i don’t know what i’m doing.

— do you like her?

you hesitated. the pause said more than anything else. — i don’t know. but i can’t stop thinking about her.

daniela sighed, setting your phone on the table.

— okay. step one: you’re a disaster. step two: you’re a hot disaster, so it might work in your favor. but don’t let some emotionally stunted stripper turn you into a sad gay meme. you know you deserve more than this.

— i already am a sad gay meme.

— yeah, but now you’re main character sad. that’s a health hazard.

— thanks. i think. — you managed a laugh. soft, but real.

— always. now let’s hope she texts back before your pride files a missing person’s report.

as if on cue, the door cracked open again. manon shuffled in with a brown tote bag, dark sunglasses, and a drink in each hand. went straight to the kitchen and gasped as if she just found out that her husband had a 7 year old affair with her sister. — who stole my protein bars?

daniela raised a hand. — guilty. emotional crisis. you get it.

manon pulled off her glasses, eyes landing on you. — okay, you look like you just got ghosted or blessed. which is it?

— they texted their emotionally damaged girlfriend. — daniela supplied helpfully.

manon nearly dropped her drink. — you sent her the jacket text?

— yes. i panicked. it felt funnier in my head.

manon plopped down next to you, tucking her legs under her. — fuck. you’re such a loser, i love you for that. has she replied?

you shook your head. — okay. then we wait. like soft lesbians with too much time on our hands.

daniela leaned forward. — is she stringing you along, or do you think she’s just scared?

— maybe both. she’s so hard to read.

— then stop trying to read her and let her spell it out. — she paused and cringed at herself. — bad metaphor. ignore that.

you snorted. your phone buzzed. everyone froze.

you reached for it slowly, already bracing.

megan: if i come over, it’s not for talking.

you stared at it. your heart thudded so loud it was embarrassing, even for you.

— holy shit. — manon said softly. then you typed back.

(y/n): wasn’t planning to talk.

the reply came a beat later.

megan: that’s good.

a hush fell.

daniela stood. — well. that’s one way to break tension.

manon handed you the last of her stolen protein bars. — chew on something before you do anything dramatic.

you nodded. still staring at the screen.

whatever this was, it wasn’t nothing. and somehow, that was both terrifying and kind of thrilling.

what was meant to be playful had become this jagged thing you couldn’t stop prodding. you sat at the edge of the couch, your favorite leather jacket; megan’s scent still lingering, laying next to you, knees bouncing like they were trying to escape.

the rest of your apartment felt cluttered, to say the very least. you spent the afternoon waiting for megan trying your best to keep your mind off of her. a couple piles of comic books alongside uni stuff, your laptop still open to this morning’s quiet reading of your favorite the picture of dorian gray review, half-empty coffee mugs scattered. this was your world today: soft and rife with longing.

manon had left twenty minutes earlier; went to dinner with another friend of hers and gladly used it as an excuse to make you get laid. while daniela promptly texted you a “if she fucks you up, text me a knife emoji and i’ll take care of it.”

when the knock came, your heart jolted so hard you nearly dropped your phone.

you stood, straightening your outfit while preparing yourself mentally to open the door.

and when you finally did, megan stood there, silhouetted half in the hallway light, half swallowed by the doorway. makeup smudged, sweat dampened the ends of her hair; she looked unsteady in the best possible way. beautiful as ever.

— you look tense. — she said, voice low. observation, not accusation.

— i’m… holding up. — you managed, stepping aside. she came in without a word, scanning your place; the english lit books, the star wars and batman posters, the carefully labeled-by-a-label-maker hard drives by your desk.

her eyelids flicked over a shelf where your dungeons and dragons figurines stood, miniature warriors poised for battle. you thought you saw a familiar curve of nostalgia cross her eyes.

— god, you’re a nerd. — she said, half-smile playing on her lips.

— guilty as charged. — you replied, matching her tone. the room hummed with unsaid weight. you both sensed that something raw was coming.

— couch? — you offered, voice steadier than you felt.

— sure. — she said, shrugging off her jacket. you sat on one side, her settling five feet away. distance felt safe but electric.

you tried to look casual. watched her as she wiped her palms over her jeans, every motion deliberate. your eyes flicked to her boots, the way her fingers flexed, the faint sheen where the late-afternoon light caught her skin.

— so… — you began. — …you said you weren’t here for talking.

— i meant it. — she said, gaze fixed on the table. — not today. not right now.

— then we don’t talk — you said softly. — we do something else.

she shifted. the couch creaked. your heart stumbled at how close she’d moved, now two seats away. you smelled her: sweat, faint spice, heat that stayed with her.

— what do you have in mind? — she asked, voice careful but curious.

— you tell me. — you said, finally looking at her eyes. — you’re the one that despises casual conversation.

she exhaled sharply, then leaned back. your heartbeat thundered.

— you’re such a tease, (y/n). — she muttered. — tell me, is this couch worth getting ruined?

you moved one arm to rest on the back of the couch. your knee brushed hers, you didn’t pull back.

— only if it gets you closer. — you almost whispered. her breath hitched, and then she cracked an edge of a smile. the most beautiful smile you could ever lay your eyes upon. megan’s eyes flicked up, tracking the movement carefully like a tiger analyzing their next prey.

she swallowed, then leaned forward, pressing her palm flat on the couch next to yours. invitation, you thought. and so you closed the gap, hand grazing hers in a casual, deliberate way. that small electric spark hummed louder than the world outside.

— so… — she whispered, dragging a fingertip across your jaw. — i’m here. now what?

you took a breath, chest tightening at how deliberate she sounded. she was testing you. measuring the room. measuring you.

— show me what you came for. — you teased.

— challenge accepted. — she muttered under her breath.

her fingers curled around your jaw, thumbs brushing your lips as her gaze dropped to your mouth. you parted, inviting, and she slipped in: kiss deep and greedy, mouth warm and real. your hands found her waist, chest gliding between ribs. the weight of her presence filled every corner of your mind. she pulled away, just enough to murmur while feeling your breath against hers.

— that couch’s gonna regret it. — you said while she leaned in again, harder. you wordlessly let her climb into your lap. the furniture creaked under her weight. she pressed you down, knee on the cushion, hands tangling in your hair. everything felt sharp; her skin, her breath, your thoughts.

— you’re such a nerd. — she whispered, voice rough with desire. — this is going to be hilarious.

— only if you laugh. — you shot back, grinding into her.

the friction made both your breath hitch. her hands tightened in your hair, head tipping back as she moaned. the contrast of your nerdy persona and raw lust sent heat flaring through her chest.

— tell me something filthy. — she demanded.

— you want truth or dare? — you teased.

— truth. — she hissed.

— i want… — you said, carefully, swallowing your nervousness. — i want to wring moans out of you until your throat hurts.

she inhaled sharply, then slammed your head forward, kissing you again. lips rough, teeth grazing. your hands roamed up her back, over her tank top, tracing the curve of her spine. at this point, the knot below your belly button only felt tighter and tighter. an itch that only megan could scratch.

— you’re fucking insane. — you said, breathless when you pulled away. — and totally hot when you’re trying not to feel anything.

she froze. for a second. then laughed, harsh and joyless.

— god, don’t you dare feel fucking sorry for me. — she muttered, grinding herself into your lap. — feel this instead.

her body rolled with yours, every movement fierce. you slipped your hands under her top again, dragging it up, feeling her ribs, the arch of her stomach. she sighed, leaning back so you could slide it off. no bra, obviously. skin gleaming where your fingers passed. she smiled once she saw your reaction to it; you knew you probably looked like a boy seeing a pair of breasts for the first time.

— damn. — she muttered. — you’re glad i didn’t wore anything underneath?

— fucking glad. — you breathed, and then she cupped your cheek, with a fierce look on her eyes.

— then let me fuck that out of you. — she whispered.

she crushed her lips to yours again, one arm braced on your shoulders to hold her steady, the other pulling at your shirt. you helped her, half-pulling, half-yanking the fabric until it tore free. you tossed it across the room. skin met skin; a shock of heat and urgency. she grinded into your thigh, voice thick and needy. she wanted you more than she was ready to admit. your cock was already rock hard, trying its best to free itself from the fabric of your pants; failing miserably.

— you’re so hard. shit, you’re hard for me.

you smirked, sliding your hand to her thigh, squeezing. — turns out i get like this around you.

— around me? — she paused mid-motion and breathed, as if she was holding it back for ages. — god.

then she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to yours. your bodies moved, friction building. you slid your hands under her jeans’ waistband, brushing skin. her hips lifted, another invitation.

— want this?

— yes. god, yes… — she groaned, her voice filled with need, making you smile. the way her defenses went down every time you got her like this made you feel like the biggest person on the planet.

you kissed her collarbone, hands fumbling with her buttons, pulling her denim pants down. your fingers decided to put her underwear only to the side; something about fucking her while she wore it kinda drove you insane. her pulse pounded in her neck, then she caught her breath.

— you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate. — she whispered as she tugged her jeans free.

— so are you, when you’re trying not to feel feelings. — you teased.

she laughed. soft, close to tears maybe.

— shut up and fuck me. — she snapped, voice rough with need.

you slid a hand between her legs, fingers teasing. she gasped and bucked, pressing against you with no shame. you adored seeing her act like a complete bitch upon you.

— damn, megan, you’re soaked… — you said, fingers slick.

— yeah? — she whispered, closing her eyes. — turns out i get like this around you.

— then make me yours tonight. — you whispered, without even thinking about what you said.

— i don’t do that. — she moaned softly, pressing her mouth to your temple.

— maybe you just forgot how. — you said, pulling her closer. she froze. your words landed, the air shifted.

— fuck, (y/n). — she hissed. — stop doing that.

— what did i do?

she never answered to that question. though, you already imagined the answer. you kissed her temple as you rubbed slow circles on her swollen clit, while her back arched with need upon you as she tried to get as friction as possible. the couch groaned under pressure as bodies moved, the world shrinking to each moan, each breath. neither of you held back; both pushed, fought and surrendered. you slipped two fingers inside her, slow, deliberate, and she trembled and instinctively bit your shoulder.

— oh, fuck… — she rasped. — you’re deep, so deep.

— want more? — you asked softly.

— yes, (y/n). — she murmured. — fuck, yes…

you moved, slow at first then harder. you ground up, her body wrapped around yours. the movement was instinctual, feral. the way it was supposed to be.

— you like it when i fill you up like this, huh? — you asked rhetorically, voice low.

— it feels so fucking good… — she moaned, making you smile once more. maybe, just maybe, you could never get enough of her. and accepting that was one hell of a task. you picked up the pace, matching her rhythm. every thrust hit her g-spot as if your fingers were meant to be inside of her.

— please, don’t stop. — she whispered, her grip tightened in your hair. you felt the shift, the trembling of her body ready to break. her pussy swallowed your fingers as if it wanted to crush them, to trap them inside and never let them go. she was close, you could tell. and now it was you that wanted to give her something she would never forget.

— let go for me, baby. i got you.

her head fell back, silent whine rising to a scream. her body trembled as if an earthquake took over her, nails gripping on your skin painfully but it was definitely a pain worth feeling; seeing her like this, for you and because of you, was absolutely priceless. she collapsed into you, and you followed not far behind, arm circling her waist to keep her steady. when it ended, you both froze, chests rising and falling, heads touching, skin slick and electric.

— we can do this again. — she whispered after a while, voice small. for some reason, the tables were turned. you, being the loser that you always were, felt protective over her for reasons you failed to understand, with a wave of confidence hitting you every time you felt that the people you cared about showed their most vulnerable side. and megan, of course, promised herself that she would never let those types of feelings take over her mind again. and yet, here she was. small and sweet, scared and wounded.

— we can. — you said softly. — and we will.

the room around you flickered with late-afternoon light, but everything narrowed to the heat between your bodies, the slick of sweat, the taste of salt and fear and something more tangled. the place was quiet but for the faint hum of the city outside, reminding you both this was sunday afternoon, again. but neither of you spoke of time.

megan’s fingertips traced the stretch of your shoulder, light and tentative, like she feared your skin would crack. you swallowed when she leaned closer, breath grazing your collarbone. your pulse hammered at how close she dared to be, then pulled back.

— you feel so… intense. — she murmured, voice low like she was scolding herself. you’d kissed her temple; your hand drifted to her face, your thumb caressing her cheek slowly.

— intense works. — you teased, voice thick. — you like it raw, right?

her nails dug into your arm, reflex, and she shook her head.

— i like control. — she said soft, barely letting it out.

you smirked, palms sliding up her sides. — control’s overrated.

she stiffened, but didn’t pull away. her eyes flicked closed when your hand hooked into her underwear’s waistband.

— maybe… but i like knowing i can stop it. — her voice trembled, not with fear but drive.

you didn’t dare to remove her underwear, so you slid your hand between her legs once more, fingertips brushing her wet pussy. she gasped, body tightening.

— control’s overrated until it comes undone. — you whispered.

she didn’t respond, just let you guide her down onto your bare chest. her skin landed warm and damp; your cock brushed against the middle of her legs. she froze for a heartbeat.

— go slow… — she murmured, voice low, far from certainty.

you braced your hand on the couch, steadied your breath. — slow it is.

your fingers pressed into her back to hold her close as she shifted. your member pressed at the denim, friction rippling through both of you. her hips rolled against your lap, trying her best to get a single drop of your touch.

— fuck. — she whispered, voice thin. — you feel so… real.

you curled your free hand into her hair. — so do you.

her head tipped back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. she bit her lip to still a moan, but failed.

— don’t. — she breathed. — don’t get soft…

— maybe i don’t do soft easily. — you replied low.

her hips ground again. just gentle, teasing. her gaze dropped to your throat, then shot up to meet your eyes; searching, afraid to trust.

she swallowed hard and moved again, humping her cunt on your cock with mastery; slowly, but surely. you pressed her closer, hands sliding over her ribs.

her hands gripped your arms as she kissed you, soft at first, then hungry. her fingers decided to tangle in your hair while the rest of the world dropped away.

— say it. — she murmured mid-kiss. — say you want me.

your breath caught and you pulled back slightly. — i fucking want you, megan.

she pressed her forehead to yours, lips parted. — good. don’t make me regret it.

— regret what? — you asked, necessity in your voice.

— letting you keep kissing me. — she bit out, voice raw.

you kissed her again, slow and deep. her hands ran down your chest, over your cock pressed against your denim. goosebumps rose along your skin, as if it wanted her more than you did.

— i need to be inside you. — you whispered, voice thick.

megan’s breath hitched. — then fill me up again. — she said, firm.

you unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them down with your own underwear; megan stilled as your cock spilled free, dripping with arousal and pre-cum.

— fuck, you’re still so hard. — she whispered, eyes on you.

— your fault. dick. — you answered, voice husky, remembering your last conversation.

she left your lap so she could lay down on the couch, then snapped her fingers against your chest. — come here.

you moved upon her, cock sliding along her thigh. she guided your hands on her torso, letting you explore her ribs, her waist. she seemed smaller now, vulnerable; and it broke your chest wide open.

she closed her eyes and turned into your touch. your cock slid between her pussy, slick sound where she was wet. neither of you flinched, bodies locked.

— let me feel you, baby. — she said.

you pressed forward, just your tip. she inhaled sharply, legs squeezing reflexively. for a moment neither of you moved. then you pushed inside her slow; nothing rushed, it felt sacred.

— holy fuck, you’re so big… — she gasped as you stretched her open. her walls held you tightly. your hands braced on her hips to guide the rhythm. her arms wound around your back, nails trailing across your skin.

you moved deeper, slow and deliberate, letting her absorb every inch. her breath caught each time you shifted. when she finally started moving; gentle hills of motion, your heart hammered.

— shit- don’t stop. — she murmured.

you slid out halfway then back in. — not stopping.

she cried out, pressing tight against you. the room echoed with soft sounds: skin, breath, low gasps.

you flicked your hand to her clit, grinding gently. she groaned as she rolled her eyes again. — fuck, i want to be loud.

— you want to make noise? — you asked, voice teasing, which she promptly denied.

— i want you to make them hear me. — she snapped.

you increased pace; push in, pull out, fingertips flicking her bud. her back arched, nails dragging down your chest. her cries grew louder. raw and unfiltered, just like her.

— you like that? — you asked, voice low and charged.

— yes! fuck, yes… — she choked out, body trembling. for you, and you only. and that was enough for tonight.

letting your intrusive thoughts win, you slapped her clit, hard enough to sting. she almost cried, it seemed. but the smile on the corner of her lips assured you that everything was fine.

— god, you’re such a tease. — you grunted, giving more.

she groaned, bucked, pushing harder. you rattled between control and abandon.

— fuck, yes… i’m so close. — she screamed, voice raw and shaky. — (y/n)…

you pressed your hand underneath her navel, feeling the bump of your own cock going in and out of her; the action making her body tremble almost instantly. — go ahead. cum for me again, megan.

her body spasmed, cry tearing through her throat as her pussy swallowed your member and her orgasm took over her entire body. you followed right after you rode her through it, making sure to cum on her stomach this time around. you both trembled, breath ragged, locking together in sweat and shadows.

you lay there tangled; skin slick, bodies still humming from everything. her leg draped over your hip like gravity hadn’t decided which of you to pull harder. the room smelled like sex and your shampoo. it was the kind of quiet that felt heavier than the silence that had settled between you, like neither of you knew what to do with the tenderness left behind.

megan stared at the ceiling like it was trying to tell her something she didn’t want to hear.

your fingers traced the dip of her spine, slow, careful. she didn’t flinch, but she didn’t lean in either. that was the thing you noticed about her; she let you close, just never close enough.

— you good? — you asked, voice soft.

— yeah. — a beat passed. — just… thinking.

you waited, but nothing else came. her hand curled against your chest like she didn’t even know it was doing that. you counted the seconds she stayed there. one, two, three. then she pulled away.

she sat up and swung her legs off the couch like she couldn’t get dressed fast enough.

your chest tightened. — you leaving?

she nodded, already reaching for her shirt, her pants.

— is this about what i said earlier? — you tried. — you don’t have to-

— it’s not. — her voice was clipped, but not cold. she yanked the shirt over her head, then paused, fingers trembling for half a second before she covered it by tying her hair up. — i just… i don’t do well with this.

— this?

— staying. the aftermath shit.

— you don’t have to stay here. but you don’t have to run from me, either. — you sat up.

— i’m not running. — she said it fast; too fast.

you didn’t call her out. you just looked at her. and she wouldn’t meet your eyes.

she zipped her jeans. grabbed her jacket. then she hesitated, thumb brushing the leather like it was trying to say something she couldn’t.

— megan… — you started, she shook her head.

— don’t. — softer now. — don’t ask me to stay. it’s easier if you don’t.

your throat tightened. — you think i’m gonna break if you leave?

— no. i think i am.

and there it was. the crack. the jagged edge behind the bravado, the flinch under the smirk.

— you’re not gonna break. — you half-whispered.

— i will. — she said it like a fact. — i’m good at sex. i’m good at pretending i’m not scared shitless of people. but i’m not good at… this. whatever “this” is.

you stepped forward, slow. not touching her yet.

— i’m not asking you to be good at anything. i’m just asking you not to disappear.

her laugh was dry. it cracked in the middle. — i’ve already disappeared, (y/n). that’s the only thing i’ve ever been good at.

your heart broke a little. you could see how much she wanted to stay. how much it scared her to even consider it. you reached for her hand, she let you take it.

— then just… text me tomorrow. or don’t. — you said, letting the words fall gently between you. — but don’t pretend this didn’t mean something. even if you don’t know what it meant yet.

she squeezed your hand, eyes burning like the sun through smoked glass.

— it did. that’s the fucking problem. — she said.

then she dropped your hand, turned and walked to the door. you didn’t follow. didn’t beg.

she looked back once, only once, her expression unreadable. then she stepped out into the hallway and let the door shut behind her. you stood there aching, watching the spot where she’d been like she might reappear if you stared hard enough.

she didn’t.

you sat back on the couch, the fabric still warm where her body had been. the smell of her lingered. so did the ghost of her fingers on your jaw, her voice in your ear.

this time, she’d left slower. softer. maybe that meant something, maybe not.

but you knew one thing for sure. you’d wait. just a little longer. just in case.

the sidewalk glinted under the streetlights like it had something to prove. megan walked with her jacket half-zipped, her work lingerie already on her body to spare her the change, hands shoved into the pockets, and eyes fixed forward. while lara trailed a step behind, absently thumbing at her ear, scowling like the missing earring owed her money.

— okay, this is not happening. — lara muttered, voice sharp like she could intimidate the universe into fixing her problems. — i swear i put them both in here.

megan glanced over her shoulder, uninterested. — the earring?

— yes, the earring. the hoop. the gold one that makes me look expensive and emotionally unavailable.

— well, one of those is accurate. — megan offered.

lara didn’t laugh. her fingers kept raking through lipsticks and receipts and an emergency knife. no second hoop.

— this is a crisis. i can’t show up asymmetrical. it’s bad luck, i’ll get haunted.

megan grabbed her lighter and pack of camel’s and lit her cigarette, inhaled deep like she needed the smoke to ground her. — maybe the ghost will steal your exes and save you the trouble.

— or maybe the ghost will remind me of my worst decision in the last six months. — lara snapped, louder than intended.

megan didn’t reply. just kept walking. the silence stretched between them, thin and electric.

lara clicked her tongue and broke it. — so. are you gonna talk about it or just keep vibrating with internalized panic until you spontaneously combust?

— about what?

— about the fact that you went over there. — lara said, quick and sharp. — that you saw them again. that nerd from friday with that tight lord of the whatever shirt and the haunted eyes.

megan exhaled. the smoke curled out of her mouth like a sigh she hadn’t earned. — it wasn’t supposed to be anything.

— and yet here you are. smoking like you’re in a noir film and brooding like it’s your full-time job.

megan stopped walking. traffic hummed in the distance, a car horn echoing from some other life. lara watched her for a second, then fell into step beside her. took a long drag of her cigarette in an attempt to smoke her feelings away.

— you know i’m not judging you, right? — she said, tone lighter now. — you feel things harder than most people. you just don’t know where to put it.

— says the girl who ghosted a woman because she offered to watch a movie with you. — megan quipped back, lips twitching despite herself.

lara grinned. — it was the way she said the word “we”. gave me hives.

they started walking again in silence for a few beats, boots hitting pavement in time with passing headlights. megan’s shoulders looked too high, like she hadn’t stopped bracing for impact since she left your apartment.

— you liked them. — lara said, voice soft.

megan didn’t reply.

— i mean, fuck, you like them. don’t even try to tell me it’s not still happening.

— i saw them twice. — megan muttered.

— you fucked them on a couch for hours today and then ran away like your life depended on it. — lara corrected. — that’s not “twice,” that’s a limited series.

megan’s hand twitched in her pocket.

— you don’t get it.

— no, you don’t get it. — lara shot back. — you’re out here trying to convince yourself you’re incapable of being loved just because you’re scared of what it feels like to stay.

megan flinched, but it was small. her lips parted like she might say something, but lara beat her to it.

— and before you go all “i’m a broken person, it’s safer this way.” — lara air quoted. — don’t. i’ve used that speech. it’s bullshit and it’s fear wearing lipstick.

they stopped at the corner. the velvet room’s neon glow flickered just up ahead, violet light bleeding into the cracks of the sidewalk like spilled ink. lara turned to her, finally still.

— i left manon’s because she smiled at me like we’d already made a memory. — she said plainly. — and i couldn’t handle it. i can’t handle it.

megan’s brows rose, barely, while lara looked away, scowled at the traffic like it offended her. — she’s… she’s loud. in color. not scared to want something soft. and i’m not wired like that. i break shit just for the noise it makes. you know that.

— so why are you telling me this?

lara looked at her, dead in the eyes.

— because i’m not gonna let you become damaged like me. you want them. and they want you. don’t fuck it up just because your fear’s louder than your hope.

megan looked down at her boots, then threw the rest her cigarette away. her hand stayed clenched around the edges of her jacket. silence pressed between them, heavy and crackling.

— you gonna text them? — megan didn’t answer. — what’s the worst thing that can happen? they don’t reply?

— no. — megan shook her head. — the worst that happens is they reply, and it means something. and then i have to figure out what the fuck to do with that.

lara nodded slowly, like she got it in her bones. then she pulled a stick of gum out of her jacket and shoved it into her mouth.

— feelings are messy. — she said, popping the gum. — but silence is worse.

they stood there for a minute, letting the streetlight hum over them like the city was waiting for a verdict.

megan’s phone burned a hole in her pocket. she could feel it. the small text thread. the way she would left things hanging like a half-finished poem. the way your hands had felt against her skin. careful. present. wanting her even when she didn’t know how to be wanted.

she pulled the phone out. unlocked the screen. the chat thread glowed, still open. no messages since that morning. megan stared down at the small message thread, thumb hovering, heart stupidly loud.

it had been hours.

the jacket text still sat there, ridiculous and sincere and somehow still soft in her chest. like a bruise she hadn’t meant to earn. she typed. deleted. typed again. then eventually, she hit send.

megan: just so you know, i didn’t hate today.

sent. no emoji. no follow-up. punctuation, even. like a breath she let out mid-sentence.

it wasn’t an invitation, but it wasn’t not one.

she locked her phone too quickly. like it might burn her.

lara clocked it instantly. didn’t say anything at first. just gave her that sidelong look; the one that meant megan was being obvious again.

— smooth. — lara muttered under her breath.

megan scoffed, pulling her jacket tighter around her ribs. — shut up.

her thumb grazed her phone screen like she didn’t mean to check it again, like she wasn’t hoping. like she hadn’t just handed someone else the thread to something sharp inside her chest and dared them to tug.

you hadn’t texted yet.

that was fine. she wasn’t waiting.

they reached the velvet room’s entrance. music thumped from behind the doors, muffled and wild. lara went to grab the key to her locker as she entered the club, hand brushing her bag, and stopped; something hit her once she put her hand back in her purse.

megan clocked it instantly. — what?

— i didn’t lose it. — she whispered.

megan raised an eyebrow. — and?

lara stared at the earring like it had just told her a secret she didn’t want to know.

— i left it there. — lara said, annoyed. — i wore them last time on friday and i went to manon’s that night. fuck.

the realization hit like a punch to the gut. and for the first time in a long time, lara looked terrified just for the idea of having to talk to manon again.

while that happened, right across the city, you were on your couch, the light from your phone glowed faintly in the dark.

you hadn’t moved in twenty minutes. hoodie still on. there was some random episode of the big bang theory in your tv but you refused to give it enough attention; like something might change if you stared at it long enough.

your phone buzzed. a soft, single sound.

you didn’t check it right away. you didn’t have to. fingers trembling slightly, you turned the screen over.

megan: just so you know, i didn’t hate today.

that was it. no joke. no wink. no plans.

but something about it made your stomach twist up with hope. you curled tighter into the couch, a flood of excitement coming through you, slightly. whatever this was; it was still happening.

so you texted back, quiet.

(y/n): i didn’t either.

then you locked your screen. exhaled slow. didn’t smile. not exactly. but your chest felt a little looser. your heart, a little steadier.

she’d texted first. and that had to mean something.

[luvseraphh]

girlfriend headcanons.

▹ synopsis: how (I think) Lara would be as your girlfriend!

▹ content warnings: gn!reader, fluff, headcanons

▹ pairing: lara x reader (katseye)

▹ side note: she is THE it girl, not a single girl in this group isn't talented and stunning and I'm jealous </3

always sending you selfies

idk about you but just the sight of her would have me kicking my feet

SENDS YOU COVERS OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS

I feel like she would love wearing matching clothes with you

falling asleep on FaceTime <3

sending each other playlists that make you think of each other

making you laugh all the time

but she knows when it's time to be serious

(similar to manon)

Taglist - @justmylvr @lwcedribbons @im0nsaturn @dvartefox @failurewater @f0reverfaded @t0asty1 @iv-vee @mp3nai @straows @grenadehearts @hecate-frenchfries @imagine-all-the-imagines

ⓒ luvseraph 5/11/25

[modanisgf]

— KISS ME , LARA RAJ

“SO, KISS ME.”

✎ SYNOPSIS — you and lara going on your first date.

✎ PAIRING(S) — lara raj x fem!reader

✎ GENRE(S) — sort of in the 'talking stage', first date, wlw, idol!reader x idol!lara

✎ WARNING(S) — no important warnings but, my first time writing a fic in MONTHS. no one say anythign i literally started this like two days before posting #rushed

request from this ask!

lara was so scared. she wasn’t exactly one to have good first dates, and now she was getting ready to go on one with the prettiest girl she’s ever met. all of her members were surrounding her as she got ready, fueling her stress even more. questions from them were being shot at her every second.

“what does y/n like?”

“are you sure this is a good idea?”

“what dress are you wearing?”

lara groaned putting her head in her hands, causing her members chatter to fade out.

“lara is everything okay?” yoonchae asks.

“no, i’m so nervous. what if it goes bad?” lara mumbles.

“i promise it’ll be okay lara, y/n is a nice girl. anything that happens she’ll be okay with.” daniela says, smiling at lara.

the rest of the members agree, making lara relax a bit more. she was going to enjoy this date, and hopefully all of your future ones.

lara had finally left the house, saying goodbye to all her members before standing on their porch. she was waiting for you to pick her up, her nerves hitting her once again.

a small smile appeared on lara’s face at the sight of your car, it growing bigger as she saw you get out.

“lara!” you call out to the girl, running up to her to give her a hug.

the two of you embraced as soon as you were close enough, your hands holding onto lara’s waist tightly as if she was going to disappear. lara laughed softly at this, returning the same touch to you.

“i missed you so much.” you whisper, just loud enough for the girl in your arms to hear.

“i missed you too.” lara replies, smiling.

you soon let lara go, a huge smile on your face.

“i can’t believe this is our first date, i wish we weren’t both so busy.” you say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck.

lara nods, it was hard for both of you to adjust to your busy schedules while getting to know each other. truthfully, the two of you were performers. your schedules clashed so much that even with you two exploring a connection for months, this was your first real date ever. sure you had hung out before but you never went out together, which is why lara is so anxious. she needs this date to go perfect, who ever wants to start off on a bad foot?

eventually the two of you get in your car and drive to the destination of your date, it was a surprise for lara so she was excited. once you reached the parking lot, lara gasped. you were both at a carnival, one of lara’s favorite first date ideas. (you knew that she loved carnivals, since she talked to you about them for a good hour once). you smiled, stepping out of the car. you made your way to lara’s door, making sure to open it for her and take her hand in yours.

“are you excited?” you ask.

you giggled at lara’s demeanor, the girl was overjoyed.

“yes, thank you so much y/n.” lara says, giving you a hug.

“y’knowww, i should get a kiss for this.” you say teasingly, “since it’s one of your favorite date ideas.”

lara laughed a bit before shaking her head, "maybe if you win me something?"

your smile fades, giving her an annoyed look.

"don't look so sad," lara warns, "you'll get a kiss soon enough, n/n."

“okay c’mon, let’s go!” she exclaims, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the carnival.

—

right now you were extremely focused on this basketball carnival game, trying to get all the baskets you possibly can. normally, you hated games like these but when you saw the look in lara’s eyes seeing the stuffed giraffe as a prize you couldn’t hold back.

you were so close to winning the stuffed animal, the worker handing you your last ball. you positioned yourself for a perfect shot, in which you made it.

"the giraffe please!" you say, smiling ear to ear at your win.

lara was staring at your face the entire time, you looked so pretty whenever you smiled. after giving lara the giraffe she thanks you, but not without saying something that catches you off guard.

"your smile is so pretty." lara mutters, making your heart soar.

"thank you." you reply softly.

something about the look on lara's face made you want to kiss her right there, the moment feeling so intimate. something in you knew it wasn't the right time though, your eyes quickly diverting from eye contact with lara to the ground.

"we should go on the ferris wheel!" you stammer, leaving lara confused at the sudden mood change.

she ignored it though, following you as you walked rather quickly to the ferris wheel.

—

the ride would've been much more enjoyable if lara didn't make you incredibly nervous, your confidence going down after the moment you just shared. honestly, you felt sort of sick to your stomach. you knew lara could sense your anxiousness, the girl taking her hand in yours and squeezing it.

"y/n," lara starts, making you look away from the window to look at her.

"i want you to be honest with me, did something go wrong?" she questions, making your heart drop.

"no!" you respond quickly, "sorry, i just i don't know.”

a moment of silence followed your response, both of you breaking eye contact. lara moved her hand to her lap, creating insane tension between you two.

“y/n, it’s okay if you didn’t like the date and you don't feel the same. we can always just leave after this—“ lara starts before you cut her off.

“no, i’m sorry i just didn’t know what to say.” you say grabbing lara’s hand back.

“i really like you lara, like really really like you. you’re so perfect in every way, you just make me nervous.” you admit to the girl, making her smile.

“i like you too y/n.” she replies, squeezing your hand.

“does that mean i can get that kiss now?” you joke, making her laugh.

“yes you can.”

lara wraps her hands around your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. you hold her waist, keeping her close to you as kiss her. finally after a few moments, you both pull away.

you lock eyes, lara speaking up soon after your kiss almost out of breath.

“i want to kiss you again, so bad.”

“so, kiss me.”

—

it was safe to say you and lara did almost anything but enjoy the ferris wheel view, but frankly you didn't care. you'd never been happier in your life, holding hands with the girl of your dreams. it was time to say your goodbyes, as you had just arrived at her members house. the moon shining just right on lara's face, making you stare at her in awe.

you smile briefly at the girl before holding her face for a quick kiss, "today was fun." you say after.

"it really was." lara says.

the two of you hug, holding each other tightly just like you had hours before.

"i think i deserve at least one more kiss y'know?" you tease, making lara laugh softly.

"whatever you say," she muttered, her hands moving up towards your face as she pulled you in for another kiss. it felt so right kissing her, especially in this moment as the two of you kissed for what felt like ages. neither of you wanted to let go, but it was getting late.

"i have to go.." you murmur, making the girl in your arms groan.

"text me when you're home?" lara asks, to which you nod.

"always." you say, beginning to leave before lara grabs your hand again gently.

her body moved before she could really think of what she wanted to do, leading to her uttering out a quick question.

"will you be my girlfriend?" she says softly, "i want this to be more than a one time thing, no matter how busy we are."

feeling flustered at her words you reply simply, "of course."

you really hoped lara would miss your blush as she leaned in for one last kiss, the two of you giggling as you pulled away.

and just like that all of your wishes were granted, you were finally lara's and she was finally yours.

[zuhaism]

⊹ ｡˚ 𓂃 ♡ NO WAY ?!

[ navigation ]

pairing : sophialaforteza x brothersbff!reader

synopsis : ever since she said yes to alex. you’ve changed. you laugh with lara. you smile at every other girl but her. until one moment behind the curtains.

a/n : hehehehehe. THIS IS CRAZY IDK WHAT I WAS DOING PLS IGNORE THE MISTAKES AND HOW EVERYTJING IS ALL OVER THE PLACE. anyways im back to unemployment heh. been playing minecraft and kinda ignoring this fic ugh 😒. but it’s here!! if you havent read the first part its here !!

the night still buzzes in your veins, the lingering high of the concert making you feel weightless. beside you, basil is still laughing about something, your footsteps unhurried as the two of you walk through the thinning crowd.

“man, that was crazy,” basil says, running a hand through his damp hair. “thanks for convincing me to join the band.”

you smirk, wiping off your sweat with a towel and leaving it hanging around your shoulders. “we needed someone useless enough to play bass.”

basil scoffs, shoving your shoulder. “you’re full of shit.”

you just laugh, the adrenaline still fading from your system, your limbs starting to feel heavier, more grounded. basil grins, triumphant, but your laughter softens, your expression shifting as something heavier settles in your chest. you hesitate, licking your lips.

“hey, uh,” you start, glancing at him. “i have to tell you something.”

basil slows his steps, sensing the change in tone. “what’s up?”

you inhale, exhale. flex your fingers. the words have been sitting at the back of your throat for too long, and if you don’t say them now, you don’t think you ever will.

“it’s about sophia.”

basil raises an eyebrow, waiting.

your throat tightens. “i like her.” then, quieter, more certain.more raw, “i’ve liked her for a long time.”

basil doesn’t react at first. just blinks at you, processing. then, after a long beat, a slow smirk spreads across his lips.

“so you finally grew a pair.”

you groan, tilting your head back. “bro, shut up.”

basil lets out a laugh, clapping you on the back. “nah, this is good. you should tell her. i mean, she’s been weird about you since you came.”

your brows furrow. “weird how?”

basil shrugs, but the glint in his eyes is unmistakable. “she’s been—”

“she’s been acting all… i don’t know, restless? like she’s here but not really here, y’know?”

you frown, gripping your water bottle tighter. “what do you mean?”

basil tilts his head, thinking. “like, okay. earlier, before the set, she was all quiet. which, first of all, unheard of.”

you huff a small laugh. yeah, that does sound weird. basil takes a sip of his drink before adding, “oh, and she keeps staring at you.”

your grip falters. “staring?”

basil smirks. “yeah, dude. like, eyes glued to you, totally zoned out, caught in the moment—i swear, it was embarrassing. Like damn, get a grip, soph.”

you feel warmth creep up your neck. “you’re messing with me.”

basil rolls his eyes. “yeah, because i have nothing better to do than gaslight you about my little sister having heart eyes for you.”

you click your tongue, shaking your head, but before you can respond, something catches your eye.

a few paces ahead, past the clusters of people drifting between food stalls and game booths, sophia stands beside alex at one of the carnival stands. the glow of the overhead bulbs bathes her in soft gold, illuminating the sharp lines of her profile. the delicate furrow of her brows, the subtle downturn of her lips. 

she’s watching alex play one of those rigged bottle toss games, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. if she’s trying to feign interest, she’s not doing a very good job. alex is losing. badly.

basil lets out a sharp laugh. “he sucks.”

your jaw locks. the response catches in your throat, thick and bitter, before you manage a curt, “yeah.”

basil glances at you then, catching something in your tone, something restrained. he doesn’t push, but there’s a knowing glint in his eyes when he tilts his head toward the booth. “c’mon, let’s go say hi.”

you exhale through your nose, set your shoulders, and follow him.

you weave through the thinning crowd, the smell of fried dough and butter lingering in the cool night air. as you approach, sophia spots you first. her gaze flickers toward you in a sharp, fleeting moment, like a reflex. but instead of holding it, she drops her eyes just as quickly, snapping back to alex.

that’s new.

you can’t remember the last time sophia actively avoided looking at you.

not that you have time to dwell on it, because alex lets out a groan as another ball bounces uselessly off the rim. “dude, this game is rigged,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face.

sophia doesn’t even pretend to disagree. “or you just have no hand-eye coordination,” she says, dry and unimpressed.

“nah, it’s definitely rigged.”

basil snorts. “what, still blaming the game for your lack of talent?”

alex turns at that, grinning when he sees you. “hey, man, this shit’s impossible.”

you barely hear him. you’re still watching sophia. still waiting for her to acknowledge you. but she only nudges alex’s arm, shifting slightly away. “just let it go, dude.”

alex scoffs. “nah, watch, i got this.” he tosses another ball. it ricochets off the rim and lands unceremoniously on the ground.

your lips curl, sharp and mocking. “wow. impressive.”

alex shoots you a glare. “you think you can do better?”

you step forward, tugging a couple of bills from your pocket and handing them to the vendor. “yeah, actually.”

it’s instant. sophia’s head snaps toward you, like the words have struck something in her.

you don’t acknowledge it. don’t acknowledge her. instead, you roll your shoulders back, picking up a ball, your fingers curling around the smooth surface. your movements are casual, practiced, but beneath the surface, something burns.

your jaw is still clenched from earlier. your mind still reeling from basil’s words, from the way sophia hasn’t met your eyes, from the way she stands beside alex, arms crossed like she’s closing herself off. you’ve spent too long standing still, too long waiting, too long biting your tongue. so you aim, exhale slow, and throw.

the ball hits the rim, bounces once, then sinks straight through the bottles.

the vendor whistles. “damn, nice shot.”

alex groans, dragging a hand through his hair. “what the hell.”

basil bursts into laughter, clapping alex on the back. “ just admit you suck.”

you ignore them, your focus fixed on the row of prizes dangling from the booth. you glance at sophia then, for the first time really looking at her since you walked up.

“which one?” you ask, your voice measured, careful. sophia hesitates.

for a fleeting second, something wavers in her expression. a flicker of uncertainty, of something almost vulnerable, before she forces it away.

she licks her lips, eyes darting to the stuffed animals. “that one, i guess.” she points at a small blue penguin.

the vendor grabs it and hands it to you. you turn, holding it out. sophia stares at the toy, her grip on her own arms tightening slightly. then, slowly, she reaches out.

your fingers brush. you feel it. warm and brief, a barely-there spark. but sophia pulls away.

you don’t.

sophia doesn’t know why she hesitated. it’s just a stuffed animal. it shouldn’t mean anything. but when you look at her like that. patient, expectant, like you care. her chest tightens.

her fingers curl around the penguin, but her hands feel unsteady. she pulls away too quickly, needing distance, but it doesn’t help. her heart is still racing.

she doesn’t know why she feels this way. or maybe she does, and she’s just trying too hard to ignore it.

she clutches the penguin close to her chest, her fingers pressing into the soft fabric like it’s something solid to hold onto.

then alex laughs. “damn, i should’ve let you play first.”

your lips twitch. “you should’ve.”

basil coughs, barely covering his amusement.

“well, it’s fine,” alex says, tossing an arm around sophia’s shoulders. “i still got the girl, so i win in the end, right?”

you freeze.

it’s immediate. the way your whole body tenses, your breath catching in your throat. the way the warmth in your veins turns to ice, the words landing in your chest like a punch you hadn’t braced for.

your fingers curl into your palms, nails digging into skin. sophia stiffens under alex’s arm. you see it. feel it.

then, finally, sophia meets your gaze.

your jaw clenches. you don’t say anything. sophia’s throat bobs. she exhales sharply, then mutters, “we’re just dating. it’s not official.” she says as she pushes alex’s hand off of her. 

the words hang in the air like a frayed thread, fragile and stretching too thin. alex frowns, blinking. “uh, isn’t that the same thing?”

“not really.”

“wow, congrats,” you try to say, forcing the words past the knot in your throat. your voice tried to stay steady, to sound like you mean it. but it comes out flat, hollow. basil looks at you sharply, his gaze bouncing between you and the couple. he wants to punch alex. you can see it in the way his jaw clenches. but more than that, he wants to comfort you.

before he can do either, you force out a quick excuse. “um—i gotta go tinkle. you know… that set was crazy.”

sophia shifts at your comment. her eyes flick to you, searching, and you know she can tell something’s wrong.

before basil can stop you, you’re already turning away, moving fast. 

the moment you’re out of sight, the pressure behind your eyes becomes unbearable. the world blurs at the edges, lights smearing into streaks, voices muffled against the pounding in your chest.

you were too slow to say anything. too slow to brave it. too slow to tell her how you felt before someone else took the chance.

you swallow hard, blinking against the tears, but they keep coming, hot and relentless.

before you started blaming yourself. a body collided with you. “oh sorry- yn?” it was lara. she was already looking at you with concern written all over her face. “lets sit down.” 

she grabbed your wrists before you can even tell her to go away. lara doesn’t give you a choice. her grip is firm but not forceful, her pace steady as she leads you away from the crowds, away from the suffocating buzz of the carnival. you don’t fight it. you don’t have the energy to.

your chest feels too tight, your throat raw from holding back everything you don’t have the strength to say.

lara doesn’t speak right away. she waits until you’re both settled on a bench near the edge of the boardwalk overlooking the sea, where the noise is distant enough to feel bearable. only then does she turn to you, eyes scanning your face, piecing things together without needing to ask.

for a moment it was quiet. the sound of waves could only be heard between the two of you. “stay here” said lara breaking the calming silence. you didn’t react. your mind was out of it. 

after 5 minutes, lara came back with two ice cream cones. lara hands you one of the cones without a word, pressing the cold treat into your palm. no hesitation, no questioning. just an unspoken understanding.

you glance down at it, then back at her. “really?”

she shrugs, already taking a bite of her own. “figured you needed something to shut your brain up.”

you let out a quiet, breathy laugh, the first genuine one in what feels like hours. the weight in your chest doesn’t disappear, but it shifts, just enough. “thanks.”

lara doesn’t acknowledge it, just nudges your knee with hers and leans back against the bench, eyes locked on the dark horizon.

you both sit there, letting the silence stretch. it isn’t awkward, isn’t heavy. it just is. the waves crash against the shore, the distant sounds of the carnival hum in the background, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you can breathe.

you don’t say it out loud, but you’re grateful. not just for the ice cream, but for lara’s presence, for the way she doesn’t press for answers you aren’t ready to give.

after a few minutes, she exhales sharply, tilting her head. “i’m just saying, if you had to lose out to someone, alex is a really pathetic choice.”

you snort, shaking your head. “dude.”

“what? he’s a douche.”

you roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitches. “apparently, that’s not a dealbreaker.”

lara hums, feigning deep thought. “tragic.”

“mhm.”

the night air is cool against your skin, the scent of salt and sugar lingering in the breeze. your ice cream is starting to drip down your fingers, but wiping it away feels like too much effort.

you were enjoying your ice cream until the silence was broken once again when someone called your name.

“sophia?” lara mutters, barely tilting her head.

you freeze for a split second before turning around.

sophia is standing a few feet away, her expression shifting the moment your eyes meet. for a brief moment, she looks relieved. almost pleased. to have found you sitting alone. her shoulders loosen slightly, the tension in her stance easing. but then she sees lara.

her expression falters. the subtle warmth in her eyes cools, replaced by something sharper, something guarded. she presses her lips together, crossing her arms over her chest, posture stiffening like she’s bracing for something.

you don’t say anything. just wait.

“we’re leaving,” she finally says, voice even but not as casual as she probably wants it to be. “come on.”

normally, you would’ve stood up immediately, tossed the rest of your ice cream and followed without hesitation. but you don’t.

sophia notices.

her grip tightens around her sleeves as she watches you stay seated, licking the last bit of your ice cream off your fingers like you’re in no rush at all. she shifts on her feet, waiting for the inevitable moment when you’ll sigh, stand, and trail after her like you always do.

but you don’t move.

she exhales through her nose, impatient. “yn.”

still, nothing.

something twists uncomfortably in her stomach. this is different. this isn’t how things go. you’re supposed to come with her. you’re supposed to listen, even when she doesn’t ask nicely.

she turns on her heel, expecting your footsteps to follow.

but they don’t.

sophia stops after a few steps, a cold prickle running down her spine. her fingers curl against her arms as she turns back around, trying not to look as thrown off as she feels.

she watches as you exhale, finally shifting forward. you stretch a little, wiping your hands against your jeans before patting lara’s shoulder, murmuring something too low to hear.

and then you walk right past her.

sophia barely steps aside in time, the air between you charged with something heavy, something unfamiliar.

no glance. no acknowledgment.

you just keep moving, heading toward the set to gather your things.

sophia stares after you, the unease in her chest settling like a weight she can’t shake off. she doesn’t understand this feeling clawing at her ribs, the frustration bubbling beneath her skin. it’s ridiculous. you were just sitting with lara. just eating ice cream. there’s nothing wrong with that.

and yet, she hates the way it makes her feel.

on the ride home, the car is quieter than usual. not tense, not awkward. just quiet. the kind that feels intentional. like no one wants to be the first to break it.

you sit by the window, gaze locked on the passing streetlights, the glow casting shifting patterns across your face. your hands rest in your lap, fingers curled loosely around the fabric of your jeans. you haven’t spoken since getting in the car, and you don’t plan to.

sophia sits beside you, her arms crossed, legs tucked up slightly like she’s trying to make herself smaller. she keeps sneaking glances at you, waiting for something. maybe for you to turn and meet her eyes. maybe for you to say something, anything, like you always do.

but you don’t.

your silence feels different tonight. it’s not the comfortable kind, not the easy kind. it’s heavy, distant. like you’re not physically here and it’s bothering her more than it should.

when the car reaches sophia’s house, you step out without a word, moving straight to the trunk to grab some of the equipment. basil does the same, shooting you a glance, but he doesn’t say anything.

sophia follows, watching as you walk ahead of her, shoulders tense in a way that’s so unlike you. usually, you’d be the one cracking a joke about how you always end up carrying the heaviest stuff or making some offhand comment about how you basically live here at this point. but tonight, you’re just quiet.

it’s throwing her off.

inside, you set the last bag down in the usual spot near the couch. basil disappears into the kitchen, giving you two some space—not that you seem to notice. you just straighten up, dust your hands off, and let out a quiet exhale.

“alright, i’m heading out.”

sophia blinks. “oh. you’re not staying?” usually you’d stay for awhile. chatting with basil , play with their dogs or even annoying sophia. but today. 

“nah, i’m tired.”

she waits for it. the usual—maybe a teasing remark, a lazy grin, even a light shove to her shoulder. but it doesn’t come.

instead, you just nod at basil, say a quick “see you” to him, and then. nothing. no glance in her direction, no hug, no playful ruffling of her hair that you know she pretends to hate. your eyes really do look tired. 

just silence.

her stomach twists.

she stands there, watching as you walk out the door without looking back. something about it makes her chest feel tight, an odd pressure settling in like she’s missing something. like she’s done something wrong.

before she even realizes it, she’s following you.

by the time she steps onto the driveway, you’re already in the driver’s seat, hands gripping the wheel like you can’t wait to leave. her stomach twists. she hesitates for a second, fingers tightening around the sleeves of her hoodie, before raising a hand and tapping lightly on your window.

you roll it down, and suddenly, you’re looking at her. really looking at her.

it makes her nervous.

up close, she can see it clearly—the exhaustion in your face, the dull weight in your eyes. you look drained, like you’ve been running on empty all night, and she wonders why she didn’t notice it sooner.

“uh—your set,” she starts, shifting her weight, suddenly unsure of what to say. “it was really good today. i didn’t get to tell you earlier.”

your lips twitch, barely forming a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “thanks.” 

sophia doesn’t like this. the quiet. the distance. the way you feel just out of reach. she knows you would’ve been teasing her. for complimenting you. but nothing. not even a grin from you. 

she lingers, arms crossed over her chest like it’ll help ease the discomfort pressing into her ribs. typically, you’d stay. even if you were tired, you’d still crash on their couch for a while, maybe steal something from the fridge before heading home. but tonight, you’re already leaving.

“see you next week, soph.”

she blinks. “next week? you’re not coming tomorrow?”

you shake your head. “can’t. got stuff to do.”

the answer is too easy. 

she shifts again, fingers gripping her sleeve. “you sure? it’s still early. you could—” she stops herself, biting the inside of her cheek. she doesn’t know what she’s asking for. doesn’t know why she suddenly doesn’t want you to go.

but you just sigh, rubbing a hand over your face before nodding. “sorry soph. im busy— i just— i dont think im feeling well.” you stopped, eyes meeting sophias. 

and for a second, she forgets what she was going to say. sophia swallows. her voice catches in her throat.

sophia doesn’t say anything. she just watches as you roll the window back up, put the car in reverse, and pull away.

and she stands there long after your tail lights disappear, arms wrapped around herself, wondering why it suddenly feels like she just let something important slip right through her fingers.

the following week has been dull for sophia. not because she doesn’t have anything to do—she does, as her schedule is packed with rehearsals, school, and the usual chaos of balancing everything at once. but because she rarely sees you anymore.

and when she does, it’s different.

whenever she walks into a room and you’re there—laughing at something her brother said, leaning back on the couch like you belong—her chest tightens in something close to relief. but before she can even think about joining, you’re making some excuse, getting up, slipping away before she can say anything.

it’s deliberate. she knows it is.

but it’s the worst when she sees you with lara.

the two of you have been close lately, too close for her liking. lara leans into your space, nudges your arm, laughs at something only the two of you understand. it makes sophia’s skin itch, her fingers twitch like she wants to tear something apart.

(she doesn’t know why it gets to her so much.)

at least here, during tutoring, you can’t run.

you’re sitting across from her, flipping through the calculus textbook with that familiar, unreadable look on your face. you’ve been quieter than usual, more distant, but your explanations are as sharp as ever, walking her through every problem with the same level of patience that makes her want to watch you forever.

she wonders if you know how amazing you are at this. not just at math, but at explaining things, at making the hardest problems feel manageable. she watches the way your fingers tap absently against the paper, the way your brows furrow when you’re thinking. she wants to tell you.

she doesn’t.

instead, she taps her pencil against the desk, glancing at you. “hey, the silver screen is this friday. you wanna come?”

you pause, glancing up from the textbook. “alex won’t go with you?” the words come out before you can stop them, and you hate how they sound. detached. like it doesn’t sting to picture her with him.

you know exactly what the silver screen is. an annual event the school organizes, setting up a massive projector on the football field, fairy lights strung up around the bleachers, blankets spread across the grass. students bring snacks, some come in groups, others… as couples.

you remember your sister talking about it when you were younger, how she met her husband there, how it was one of those nights that stuck with her forever. she told you it had this kind of magic to it. something meant for the kind of people who find love in stolen glances and shared laughter under the open sky.

but the idea of sophia in that setting—with alex—makes your chest tighten.

she shifts in her seat, her pencil tapping against her notebook. “he’s going camping or something.” she shrugs, but you notice the way she’s watching you closely, like she’s waiting for something. “anyway, it’s not that serious. just a movie night.”

just a movie night.

you swallow, forcing your gaze back down to the calculus problem in front of you, but the numbers blur together. you should say no. you should tell her you’re busy, give her some excuse, avoid the way this entire conversation makes you feel.

sophia feels like she’s standing on the edge of something dangerous, something she doesn’t quite understand. she should drop it. should let yn change the subject, move on like this was just some offhand suggestion.

but then she speaks again, quieter this time. “you don’t have to, obviously. just thought it’d be nice.”

and that, more than anything. makes it impossible to refuse.

the silence stretches, and sophia suddenly regrets every decision she’s made in the last two minutes.

“yeah,” you murmur, gripping your pen a little tighter. “i’ll think about it.”

relief rushes through sophia so fast it almost makes her lightheaded. she nods, trying not to seem too eager, forcing herself to focus on her notes. but her heart is still racing.

she doesn’t know if this is a good idea.

you have been avoiding her lately, and sophia doesn’t know why. she sees it in the way you always leave the moment she shows up, how you makes excuses to be anywhere else. even during tutoring, she feels the shift. 

and maybe that’s why sophia is scared. because for the first time in weeks, she’s found an excuse to keep you close.

sophia doesn’t push. she just nods, a small, almost satisfied expression crossing her face before she drops her attention back to her notes.

she’ll deal with that later. right now, all that matters is that you haven’t said no.

sophia doesn’t even like flowers that much.

but alex had shown up out of nowhere, smiling as she handed over a single baby’s breath, saying something about how she was sorry that sophia missed the silver screen.

sophia barely registered the words. she just held the flower between her fingers, nodding along, trying not to overthink how wrong it felt to be standing here, listening to alex talk when all she could think about was you.

and then alex was gone.

sophia barely had time to process it before you appeared, stepping up beside her with that unreadable look in your eyes.

“nice flower,” you said, gaze flickering down to the small bloom in her hand.

sophia didn’t even get the chance to respond before you plucked it from her fingers, twirling it once between your own as you started walking. instinctively, she followed. there was no hesitation, no second thought—just the pull of you leading the way, and sophia falling into step beside you.

as soon as you start walking, you begin talking.

something about your day, something about how your morning was a disaster because you spilled coffee on your notes, and then how lara had the audacity to laugh instead of help. something about that makes her twitch. you’re still talking, completely unaware of the way sophia’s stomach twists when you bring up lara.

“—and then lara said i need to get a life because i spent my saturday fixing my guitar instead of going out, but she was literally—”

sophia isn’t sure why she feels weird about this. you and lara have always been friends. but hearing just how much time you’ve been spending together lately makes something uncomfortable settle in her chest.

before she can stop herself, the words leave her mouth. “lara likes someone from the girls' football team.”

you pause mid-step, blinking at her. “okay?” okay?? what was she even expecting you to say?

she has no idea why she said that. no idea why she felt the need to say anything. you stare at her for a second longer, like you’re trying to figure out if there’s a point to what she just blurted out. and maybe there is. maybe she just wants you to stop bringing her up so casually when it’s already so obvious that lara gets more of your time than she does. but you don’t push. you just shrug, muttering something about how you hope lara finally gets her love life sorted out, before continuing whatever you were saying earlier. sophia barely hears it.

her face feels hot. her hands are clammy. she keeps her gaze forward, hoping you won’t notice. she needs to get a grip.

you keep talking like nothing happened, like sophia didn’t just embarrass herself for no reason.

her face is burning. she can still hear her own voice echoing in her head, the absolute stupidity of it making her want to crawl into her locker and never come out. why did she say that? why did she care?

sophia nods along, half-listening.

she wants to focus on your words, she really does, but all she can think about is the fact that you’re talking to her again.

after a week of cold shoulders and passing glances that never quite landed, you’re walking beside her like nothing happened. you’re initiating the conversation, keeping the space between you light and easy. and god, she missed this. she missed you.

she barely even notices when you toss the flower into the trash without a second thought. she’s too busy watching the way you move, the way your hands gesture when you talk, the way your voice dips when you complain about lara. it’s familiar and new all at once, and she hates how much she’s hanging onto every word, desperate to make up for the days you kept your distance.

before she knows it, you’re outside her classroom. she stops, blinking up at you as you roll your shoulders back like you’re bracing yourself.

“i’ll go to the silver screen with you.”

sophia’s breath catches.

“i’ll pick you up at six.”

she barely processes the words before you’re already stepping away, disappearing down the hall. 

her hands are ice cold, but her face feels like it’s on fire.the bell rings, but she doesn’t move. she barely hears it over the way her pulse roars in her ears. students push past her, some rushing into the classroom, others lingering in the hallway, but sophia doesn’t register any of it. she’s stuck—feet planted, hands gripping the hem of her sweater, head tilted slightly down as her hair falls over her burning face.

her lips twitch, and then, before she can stop it, a smile breaks through. and suddenly, her whole chest feels like it’s about to burst.

fireworks. that’s what it feels like. like someone just lit a match inside her, and now she’s sparking. she barely remembers how to breathe.

someone bumps into her shoulder on their way into class, snapping her out of it. she blinks rapidly, heart still hammering against her ribs, and forces her feet to move. she slips inside, head ducked low, smile still tugging at her lips, fingers twitching at her sides.

she doesn’t think she’s going to hear a single thing the teachers say today.

sophia had to stay back until four for cheer practice. it was now 3:57.

she stepped out of the locker room, still adjusting the strap of her gym bag, cheeks flushed from the last half hour of cheer practice. she was let off early for once. her coach had other meetings to get to, and sophia didn’t mind. in fact, she was almost relieved. because it meant she got to see you. not for tutoring. just… to be with you. and even if it was just a few minutes walking to your car and getting driven home by you, it was something she’d been looking forward to since the morning.

she hummed quietly as she walked down the quiet hallway, shoes squeaking softly against the floor. it was nice to finally have a moment where she didn’t feel like she had to run into alex or sit through another lunch of watching you laugh at something lara said.

when she passed the music room, she slowed down. you said you’d be there, working on something for the club. just a quick touch-up for an upcoming assembly or whatever. she thought she’d check on you, see if you were ready to leave.

but then she saw you.

you were there, standing by the far piano, eyes crinkling in that way that always made sophia’s chest ache. and beside you was lara. laughing at something, close enough that it made sophia’s stomach twist. your shoulder brushed lara’s when you leaned down to show her something on the sheet music.

sophia couldn’t move. 

she should’ve just gone outside. waited like a normal person. but instead, she was frozen there, just outside the open doorway, like some kind of idiot. watching two of her friends laugh over a song she didn’t care about, in a space that suddenly felt like it didn’t belong to her.

and she hated that it made her mad.

lara had only known you for what, a few months? but somehow she had you laughing, smiling, letting her in. meanwhile, you could barely look sophia in the eye last week. she was your date to the silver screen, and yet she didn’t feel like she meant anything to you.

so she turned around. quietly, without saying a word.

sophia walked to the front of the school and sat on the stairs, bag at her feet. the late afternoon sun warmed the concrete, but she barely noticed it. her thoughts were louder than everything else.

why did it feel like this? why did her chest feel tight every time she saw you with lara? why did she hate that lara could make you laugh so easily? and more than anything—why did she care so much?

she already had alex, didn’t she?

except alex didn’t make her feel like this. he never did.

she buried her face in her hands for a second, trying to breathe past the knot in her chest. this was stupid. she had no reason to be jealous. you weren’t even hers.

but then she heard the door open behind her.

your voice came next. soft, almost surprised. “soph? what are you doing out here?”

sophia looked up, blinking fast. the sun caught on your hair, and you squinted slightly against the light as you stepped down toward her. and just like that, the irritation and the jealousy faded into something warmer. something she hated to name.

“you ready to go?” you asked, adjusting your bag.

sophia nodded, getting up quickly and brushing off the back of her skirt. “yeah.”

you didn’t mention lara. didn’t say anything about what she might’ve seen through that window. and maybe sophia was grateful for that.

but as you started walking beside her toward the parking lot, close enough for your arm to brush hers, sophia realized something quietly. no matter how much time passed, or who else was around, being next to you always felt like something she didn’t want to lose.

she had to do something. but as for now, she could not wait until silver screen to spend time with you.

it was finally friday. the day of the silver screen.

yesterday’s tutoring session was strange. sophia wasn’t herself—distant, distracted. her eyes kept drifting away from the textbook, and her responses were slower than usual. she was zoning out, completely out of it. and no matter how many times you asked if something was wrong, she just shook her head and gave you a half-smile.

you hated how fast your mind jumped to alex. hated how easy it was to assume he had something to do with it. maybe they argued. maybe he did something stupid again. maybe sophia was finally tired of pretending to be okay. or maybe—maybe it had nothing to do with alex at all, and you were just projecting.

still, the silence between you two yesterday stuck to you more than it should’ve. especially with how much you were looking forward to seeing her again today.

you were leaning against the wall outside your second period class when lara walked up to you, balancing her iced coffee in one hand and her phone in the other.

“you good?” she asked, eyes scanning your face. “you look like someone broke your guitar.”

you scoffed. “just tired.”

lara raised an eyebrow. “tired of watching sophia and alex exist, or just tired in general?”

you didn’t answer. instead, you looked down, kicking lightly at the floor. the way she said it so casually, like she already knew exactly what was bothering you, made your stomach twist.

“look,” lara said, taking a sip of her drink, “i’m not gonna give you the whole ‘move on’ speech. but maybe… take a chance?” you glanced at her, confused. “on what?”

“on anyone,” she said simply. “any girl who even breathes in your direction. flirt back. talk first. give someone else a shot.”

you laughed, dry and a little hollow. “that’d be you, then.” lara snorted. “please. you’re attractive, but you’re not my type.” you clutched your chest dramatically. “ouch.”

“you’ll live,” she teased. “just… stop shutting people out. you never know who might surprise you. maybe tonight, some cute girl’s gonna walk up to you under the lights and change everything.” you rolled your eyes but smiled, soft and small. “we’ll see.”

 “we will see,” lara said, and just as she was about to continue, someone appeared beside you both.

“hi, guys!”

you turned. sophia.

she was smiling too brightly. her voice slightly too chipper to be casual. her eyes flickered between you and lara, and for a second, she looked like she was regretting even approaching. but lara, oblivious or simply unbothered, grinned.

“just the person i needed to see,” lara said. “music club needs extra help for the orchestra set-up on sunday.”

sophia blinked. “orchestra?”

“yeah,” lara nodded. “stage layout, equipment prep, stuff like that. we’re a little short on hands on saturday. you in?”

sophia hesitated. “i don’t know… i might be out with alex that day.”

your stomach dropped, but your face didn’t change. you just offered a tight-lipped smile, eyes unfocused. lara nudged sophia’s arm. “yn and another girl is gonna be there.” sophia turned to look at you, and you met her eyes briefly. you didn’t say anything. you didn’t need to. she hesitated again, visibly torn. “…maybe. i have to see how saturday goes.

“well, if you change your mind,” lara said, giving sophia a knowing look, “it’s always open. besides, yn could use a friend there.”

sophia opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out right away. you didn’t press. you just watched her quietly, your expression unreadable. she didn’t know what she expected to see in your face, but whatever it was—it wasn’t there. 

sophia could hear the doorbell ring, followed by basil’s unmistakably loud voice yelling, “your favourite person is here!”

she paused at the top of the stairs, heart ticking a little faster. she didn’t know why that made her blush. maybe because it was true. or maybe it was the panic that you might’ve actually heard him from outside.

she smoothed her sundress, quickly brushing down the fabric as she gave herself one last glance in the mirror. cheeks warm. hair in place. smile soft but not too eager. okay. 

when she finally walked down the stairs, she spotted you through the open front door. leaning against the railings in your leather jacket, talking to basil with that casual charm of yours. 

you looked—cool. your hair, your posture, your smile. it wasn’t fair. you looked like you belonged in a movie. basil nudged you, laughing about something, and for a second sophia almost turned back around just to take another breath.

then you looked up and saw her. your whole expression shifted. “soph,” you said, voice low but warm, and something in it made her freeze for a moment.

you weren’t smiling like you normally did. your gaze moved from her eyes to her lips to her sundress and then back up again. like you were taking her in all at once. she stepped out of the house, barely remembering how to walk. you tilted your head slightly. “you look…”

you didn’t finish the sentence, but your face said enough. “thank you,” sophia smiled, cheeks heating as she fiddled with the strap of her bag. “you clean up okay too.”

basil scoffed. “okay? look at her. leather jacket? hair actually tamed? she’s trying to impress.” you rolled your eyes. “shut up.” 

“don’t knock her up!” basil called out dramatically as you both started walking down the path. “bye, basil,” you said dryly, grabbing sophia’s hand for just a second to guide her past the uneven step. she nearly tripped anyway, too caught up in the feeling of your fingers against her skin. when you let go, her palm missed it immediately.

“you ready?” you asked once you reached the car, your voice soft again. different from how you spoke to basil. only for her. “yeah,” she replied, eyes shining just a little too brightly. “ready.”

the drive to school was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. the windows were slightly rolled down. music played softly from the stereo. sophia peeked at you once or twice, each time hoping you wouldn’t catch her. but you did.

and you smiled.

once you arrived, the field was already starting to fill with groups of people. string lights hung across the trees, dim but glowing. the screen wasn’t lit yet, but the projector was being set up. blankets, snacks, pillows. people were settling in.

you popped the trunk and pulled out a folded blanket and a small cooler bag. “you came prepared,” sophia said as you led her to a quieter near the back. “had to,” you shrugged, setting everything down carefully. “wasn’t sure if you’d eaten.

you laid out the picnic blanket, smoothing the corners before sitting down. sophia joined you, eyes drifting to the cooler bag. “wait,” she said, “you made sandwiches?” you avoided her eyes. “yeah. i mean. just in case you got hungry.” “you made these?” she asked again, genuinely surprised. “for me?”

you shrugged again, clearly flustered. “it’s not a big deal.” sophia reached for one of them, unwrapping the foil carefully. it smelled good. “no, it is,” she said softly, grinning. “it’s really cute.” you ducked your head, ears turning pink. “don’t say that.”

“what? it is,” she said, taking a bite. “and it’s good.”

you tried to act unfazed, but your fingers kept fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. sophia felt warm. not just from the food or the air, but from you. from the effort you put in. from the fact that you remembered she liked her bread toasted just a little. from the fact that she was here, with you, without a textbook or a group or anyone else getting in the way.

it hit her all at once. how rare this was. how special. just you and her, under the lights, and nothing else demanding your attention. you leaned back on your palms, watching the people around you start to settle down. the movie hadn’t started yet, but the energy in the air felt almost anticipatory.

sophia glanced at you again. you weren’t looking at her. but she wished you were. she didn’t know what any of this meant yet. but she knew how she felt right now. and it was… happy. unreasonably happy.

sophia couldn’t stop glancing at you.

the movie had started. drive me crazy, a film she’d only ever half-watched once on cable, but now it played on the huge projector screen. the kind with soft music and bubble fonts and girls with shiny hair and boys who suddenly realize the best thing in their life has been there all along. it felt like a cliche, and yet… here she was. on a blanket with you, under strings of dim fairy lights and the vast sky, heart threatening to beat right out of her chest.

you were leaning back on your wrists, one leg stretched out, the other bent casually. your leather jacket was still on, despite the warmth of the evening. it made you look even cooler. like the main character in a teen movie who didn’t even try to be charming. you just were. and when the screen lit up your face. those golden streaks of light dancing over your cheekbones. sophia had to physically remind herself to look away.

she was flustered. every time your arm brushed hers, she stiffened slightly. not because she didn’t like it. because she did. too much. it was impossible to ignore how close you were. how your knees would occasionally touch when you shifted. how you’d offer her little comments about the movie in a whisper only she could hear. each time you leaned closer, it felt like the air thinned around them.

sophia didn't realize how cold her hands were until yours touched them.

the movie had been playing for a while now, and most of the lawn had quieted into the soft hum of popcorn munching and screen-lit faces. she wasn’t even watching anymore. not really. her eyes were forward, but her mind was sideways—on you. the way your foot tapped gently against hers, how your knuckles occasionally bumped. your presence beside her felt too big, like it was crowding all the space in her chest, and yet she wanted to be closer. she needed it like oxygen.

your fingers brushed hers again, this time more intentionally. and then, before she could prepare, you reached for her hand and held it. gently. warmly. like it was the most natural thing in the world.

her breath caught. she didn’t look at you.

your thumb ran lightly across the back of her hand, just once. slow. curious.

“your hand’s freezing,” you whispered, voice low, careful not to disturb the fragile quiet between you.

sophia blinked. her brain stuttered. “oh. yeah. i guess i—i didn’t notice.”

you were still holding her. still rubbing soft circles, like your trying to warm her hand. then came the breeze. not strong, but sudden, slipping under her sundress and making her shoulders tense. you didn’t say anything.

you let go of her hand just for a moment, and the cold bit at your skin immediately, sharper now that you weren’t distracted by her touch. she looked up, confused, just as you slipped your arms out of your jacket. the motion was smooth. you didn’t say anything. you didn’t need to.

the air was cool tonight.that in-between kind of cold that settled low in your chest and made your breath curl in front of your face. the sky had turned dark, still holding onto the last traces of daylight. she shivered once, barely noticeable, but you caught it.

you shuffled closer.

your jacket, still warm from your body. draped over her shoulders. not quickly, not casually. you made sure it settled right. that the collar tucked against her neck. that the sleeves didn’t slip off.

sophia went very still. the warmth hit her first, curling around her like a second skin. then the scent. faint leather, something piney from your cologne, and something else, something she couldn’t name but had always associated with you. it wrapped around her like a memory she hadn’t let herself remember.

her fingers twitched at her sides, like she wanted to hold onto it. like she wanted to hold onto you. when she turned her head to look at you, you were already watching her.

your face was different in the low light. softer. your features drawn in shadow and the gold cast of the nearest lamp. your eyes, usually so easy to read—were darker now, unreadable. they flickered with something quieter. something closer to hope. closer to fear. you weren’t smiling. you weren’t teasing. you just looked at her.

long and soft and still.

“thanks,” sophia said quietly. her voice came out tight, breathy. she meant to sound casual, but the words caught in her throat before they even made it out. her fingers brushed the edge of your jacket, holding it closed like armor.

you didn’t reply right away. your eyes dipped, briefly, instinctively—to her mouth. then back up.

you didn’t let it linger, but she saw it. “of course,” you murmured, your voice a little rough. a little softer than she’d ever heard it. and for one long second, neither of you moved.

it was until a body dropped onto the blanket beside you guys. “hey,” came the casual voice, disrupting everything in an instant.

you turned your head, blinking. sophia flinched. and just like that, the spell broke. but she didn’t let go of your hand.

your eyes was met with soft, delicate smile with smooth, glowing skin. her eyes lingering for just a moment too long. “you’re yn, right? i’ve heard a lot about you.” said the girl with a wolfcut who just interrupted them. yn’s face softened with a smile, that casual, approachable one she always wore. “yeah, that’s me,” she replied, her voice as warm and pleasant. 

the girls gaze flicked over to sophia, and for a brief second, there was something mischievous there, something almost knowing. she didn’t acknowledge her presence, though; she just looked right back at yn with a tilt of her head. “i’ve been hearing about you from some of the other members in the music club. cant wait to get to know you better this weekend”

sophia’s jaw clenched, but she forced herself to breathe. her gaze flickered to yn, waiting for her reaction. yn was shocked then she started smiling back, polite. “oh! you’re karina?” karina nods with a charming smile on her face. 

karina's voice was light, almost flirtatious, and sophia could hear every word like a slap to the face. “im sure we’re gonna have a good time. you’re pretty involved in the music club.”

sophia's fingers curled into fists again, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. she could feel the heat rise in her chest, that simmering jealousy she couldn’t quite control, couldn’t hide. it was like the walls around her chest were closing in. she was fuming, but she had to hold it together. karina was still talking, still leaning in just a little too close to yn, but sophia couldn’t look away. it made her feel restless, uncomfortable in her own skin. she hated how karina looked at yn. hated how she seemed so effortlessly at ease with her.

“maybe we’ll get to do some more events together. you and me.” karina continued, her voice sweet like sugar, but with an edge that made sophia’s skin crawl. yn laughed lightly, more because she didn’t want to seem rude than anything else. “yeah, i guess so.”

sophia’s fists tightened again. she wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much. it wasn’t like karina was doing anything wrong. but it felt like a punch to the gut every time she’d glance at her.

without thinking, sophia nudged yn’s side, the action coming out sharper than she intended. her voice was almost a whisper, but it was tight with the edge of frustration. “im cold,” she muttered, hoping it would make yn pay attention to her, if only for a moment as they were still talking about the next day.

yn blinked, caught off guard. she looked at sophia, her eyebrows knitting together slightly in confusion. for a split second, sophia thought maybe she’d gone too far. maybe it was too obvious. but then, yn smiled, her face softening, and before sophia could process what was happening, yn’s arm was around her shoulders.

it was a simple, just an arm, draped over her, the warmth of it soaking into her skin. but sophia’s breath hitched, her heart skipping a beat. it felt like the world was narrowing down to just the two of them, karina’s annoying chatter blurring out of focus. the warmth from yn’s body pressed against hers, and sophia’s mind went completely blank for a moment. the tension that had been building up inside her. the jealousy, the frustration. melted away for just a second, leaving her with nothing but a rush of warmth.

karina finally glanced down. it was brief, just a flicker of her eyes toward the arm yn had draped over sophia, but it was enough. her mouth pulled into something between a smirk and an apology. “oh,” she said, the word cutting through the air just a little too knowingly, “have i caught you two at a bad time?”

sophia stiffened, but yn didn’t flinch. “nah,” she replied, casual, as if her arm wasn’t currently setting sophia’s entire bloodstream on fire. “we were just watching.”

karina’s smirk deepened for a second before she lifted her hands in mock surrender, tone playful. “my bad. i’ll leave you guys to it.” she looked at sophia this time, and for once, actually acknowledged her. “nice jacket, by the way.” then she got up, brushing off her skirt like she’d just lost interest, and disappeared into the crowd of blankets and folding chairs.

sophia didn’t say anything for a long time. she just sat there, eyes fixed ahead like she was watching the screen, but she wasn’t. the movie might as well have been static. she couldn’t hear anything over the pounding in her ears, couldn’t feel anything except yn’s arm still resting gently on her shoulders, the weight of it, the warmth of it, the casual closeness.

she was flushed all the way to her ears. she knew it. she could feel the heat crawling up her neck, her jaw tight as she tried not to let it show, tried not to make it obvious how dizzy she felt. her skin buzzed under yn’s touch. 

you shifted beside her, not moving away. just closer. like you sensed it. you could feel the way her breathing stuttered. “you good?” you asked quietly, leaning down a bit so your voice barely rose above the rustle of the crowd and the hum of the movie playing in the background.

sophia glanced at you, your face so close it made her stomach twist. your arm still around her. your eyes soft and unreadable. she blinked, then nodded a little too quickly. “yeah,” she said, her voice small and clipped. “just… wasn’t expecting her.”

you raised an eyebrow, eyes flicking back in the direction karina had gone. “karina?”

sophia didn’t answer right away. her lips were pressed tight, her fingers knotted together in her lap. “she’s annoying,” she muttered eventually, the words coming out sharp.

you blinked, surprised by her tone. “she’s not that bad.”

but that only made sophia’s jaw clench harder. not that bad.her heart stung, irrationally and stupidly, like she’d just been scratched raw. the thought of you spending hours with her tomorrow, alone, laughing like that again, her leaning in too close while you smiled and didn’t stop her—it made sophia feel sick. her thoughts spiraled.

“she clearly likes you,” sophia said flatly, eyes fixed on her lap, voice barely above a whisper. “not that you noticed.”

you tilted your head slightly, caught off guard. “what?”

“nevermind.” her tone was too bitter to continue. she hated how obvious she sounded now. she wanted to take it back, but the words were already there, suspended between you.

you didn’t say anything for a second. just looked at her. studied her, the way her shoulders were tense under your arm, the way her jaw twitched slightly when she wasn’t speaking. “are you okay?” you asked again, softer this time.

she turned to look at you finally. and the look in your eyes. concern and, maybe even something warmer. it made something in her snap. she didn’t know what possessed her. 

“i’ll come tomorrow.”

you blinked. “what?”

“to the orchestra setup. with you and karina.” her voice was firmer now, more controlled, but the edge was still there, bubbling just under the surface. “i’ll help.”

you hesitated. your brows lifted a little. “i thought you said you hate doing stuff like that.”

“i changed my mind.” she swallowed, staring right into your eyes. “it’ll be fun. right?”

and then she smiled, too wide, a little fake, but her eyes were burning. because if there was one thing she knew in that moment, it was that she could not let you and karina be alone together tomorrow. not when it felt like everything was tilting, slipping out of her hands.

you looked at her for a long second. then your lips parted, like you were going to say something, maybe call her out on it, maybe ask what this really was. but you didn’t. you just let out a soft laugh, shaking your head.

“sure,” you said finally, smile curling at the corners of your lips. “the more the merrier.” oh you were oblivious. 

the next morning sophia woke up late. she woke up with her alarm ringing and drencehd in sweat. she hurriedly got up and checked her text. "im already here where are you?" she cursed herself for not telling basil about her plans for today. if not he could've woken her up. 'useless ass brother' sophia got dropped off by basil, she was extremely late. 2 hours late to be exact.

she wanted to leave the second she entered the auditorium because of what she saw. she saw you squatting near the apron fixing some wiring. she could see some of you back muscles peeking through the white tanktop you had on. she almost passed out. 

but what made it worst was karina who was sitting on the edge of the stage. she was admiring you. your back to be specific while typing on her phone. something inside sophia lit up. she could feel herself getting angry and frustrated. 

she stomped over to where you both were. karina noticed sophia’s angry walk over. “oh you’re here?” karina said with disinterest in her voice. sophia rolled her eyes at that. you on the other hand turned around upon hearing the footsteps. a bright smile immediately took over your face.

“you’re finally here!” you said in a teasing manner. getting up from your squatting position, while wiping off your hands on your jeans. sophia got a whole view of your body and she almost shuddered. your loose jeans were making your boxers peak out. sophia was caught off guard when you immediately went to hug her. 

sophia hugged back of course while glaring at karina who was rolling her eyes at you two. sophia prayed you miss the way her face went red when you suddenly greeted her with a hug. “sorry im late” said sophia looking down, drowned with guilt. 

you patted her shoulder. she looked up at you and that stupidly adorable grin was on your face. “it’s okay! you can help finish arranging the chairs.” you pointed at the stage behind karina. 

sophia pointed at karina who was sitting on the stage idly tapping on her phone. “why isn’t she doing anything.” her tone had a hint of annoyance. 

you turned back to smile at karina. who returned it. “oh she already got started arranging the chairs.” sophia only hummed at that and got to work. walking past karina who didnt even spare a glance at the girl who was glaring at her. 

you got back to work. sophia was still embarrassed about being late in front of you (and karina). sophia kept sneaking glances at you while you’re working. watching the way your shirt rides up when you reach for something. the way your arms flex when your pushing onto the wires hard. 

sometimes between that you joined her in arranging the chairs since karina didn’t help. but she enjoyed the view of you carrying the heavy chairs for her. it made something inside her stomach swirl. 

sophia feels stupid. she’s thinking of stuff she should never imagine. she shook the thoughts away from her head as quickly as it came. 

after awhile karina leaves the auditorium to grab something from the music room. suddenly the silence wasn’t awkward anymore. it was comfortable. the scrapes of chairs and sounds of tape and clattering was calming. 

it was until you broke it. calling for sophia backstage near the curtains. “soph could you help me with this.” 

sophia glances up and sees you by the curtains, your hand tugging gently at one of the thick panels that’s gotten caught up in some tangled wiring. you’re halfway bent over, one hand braced on your thigh and the other tugging carefully at the wires. the fabric’s bunched, looped over itself, refusing to budge.

“this one’s stuck?” she asks, walking over.

“yeah,” you nod, straightening up a bit. “i need you to hold the curtain still while i pull this out. it keeps getting worse every time i try alone.”

sophia nods, stepping beside you and gripping the curtain from the side. her hands sink into the thick material, and she shifts closer to reach the tangled part. just one small step. but it’s enough to close the space between you.

“okay, now pull that bit there,” you say, gesturing toward the bundle of wire stuck behind the fold.

you both move at the same time. she lifts the curtain, you pull the wire, and something shifts under her feet.

“fuck-” the fabric jolts loose suddenly and swings inward, wrapping around both of you in a slow, heavy sweep.

sophia stumbles forward, instinctively trying to untangle herself, but her arms catch around your shoulders when you tried to stand up straight to catch her.

 “fuck,” she breathes out, eyes wide. “sorry—i didn’t mean to—” but she doesn’t pull away. She couldn’t. the curtain has fallen mostly closed around the two of you, trapping you both in this soft, dark cocoon.

she realizes how close your faces are. you’re pressed so closely together that your foreheads could touch if one of you leaned in an inch. and in the dim light, she can see every detail of your face. the way your lips part as you catch your breath. the way your eyes flicker to hers. your hand is still gripping her waist, firm and steady. she can barely hear her own thoughts over how loud her heart is beating.

a beat goes by.  all you can think about is how her lips are right there. how they’re soft and pink and shiny with the same vanilla lip balm she always replies when she’s distracted. you’ve stared at her mouth more times than you’d admit.

wondered what that lip balm tastes like. wondered what she tastes like.before you said something. you whisper, almost like a confession. “i can’t do this anymore”

before she could ask you what. you pulled her in. you kiss her.

it’s not rushed, not hesitant either. it’s warm and slow and steady, like you’ve thought about this for a long time. like you’ve needed it. your hand around her hips was clutching onto her, and she freezes at first. because you’re kissing her.

her body goes stiff, and her heart stops. but then, almost like she’s waking up from a dream, her eyes flutter closed and she kisses you back. 

the tension snaps like a rubber band. her hands tightens around your shoulders, dragging you impossibly closer to her, the curtain rustling around your hips. it’s messy, a little desperate. lips parting and clashing. her fingers dig into your shirt trying to feel you even more. she feels the way you sigh against her mouth, and it makes her dizzy.

her mind is spinning. this is happening. this is real. you’re kissing her, you want her, and she’s never wanted anything so badly in her entire life. her nose is filled with your scent. all she could think about is you. how good of a kisser you are. how she needed you–

“y/n!” 

you and sophia tear away from each other like lightning just struck between you. both of you are wide-eyed, breathless, lips red and swollen.

sophia’s still holding your arm. you’re still gripping her hip. you let go at the same time.

you blink fast, heart still thudding. you clear your throat, trying to act normal. “yeah?” your voice 

cracks slightly. you clear it again. karina’s footsteps get closer. you rush out from behind the curtain, hair mussed, shirt wrinkled, face burning.

sophia doesn’t follow immediately. she stays hidden, hand pressed over her mouth, heart racing. she can still feel your hands on her. the way your thumb had dug into her hip, the way your lips had moved against hers like you knew what she needed before she even did.

her mouth feels bruised. her skin is flushed all the way down her neck.

you kissed her.

you kissed her.