FCFMNE?

Nothing about what she was doing was right. She knew that, but given the amount of built-up lust she’d had ever since laying eyes on you, she couldn’t help it. You were part of the Saja Boys, aka, the very group of people she and the others were sworn to destroy.

At first, when she’d just seen the boys up onstage, she figured it would be easy to take care of. They were hideous in her eyes in more ways than one, and she refused to offer any pity once she spotted the familiar patterns glowing faintly across their skin.

Determined to take care of them herself at one point, she’d followed them, already aware of their schedule, and hid herself between scaffolding and set pieces backstage. They were readying themselves for a rehearsal.

Why they decided to rehearse when they clearly didn’t need it, she had no idea. Still, she waited to strike.

The plan was supposed to be simple enough: swipe in when they least expect it and finish them off one-by-one. She agreed to carry out the plan while Mira and Zoey were out keeping up appearances, not wanting to draw attention to the obvious hatred their group shared for the Saja Boys.

If they were caught slaughtering them in cold blood, they’d never recover from it.

The plan was going well enough, regardless of the fact she hadn’t gotten a chance to separate the group yet. The part that was going good was that she hadn’t been spotted yet. Even with their enhanced senses, it didn’t seem like they picked up on her scent or any accidental noises she made.

She watched, now perched above the stage, shrouded in darkness with her eyes set on the group of people just below. A small grin, fueled by her anticipation for a clean shot and cut, perked the corners of her lips up as everyone except Jinu left the stage. When she was sure the group wasn’t going to come back, she summoned her blade, fingers coiled around the handle with an unwavering strength.

She shifted where her feet were as she gauged the best angle to come down. Such a clear shot. This would be a sitch.

That’s when you rolled out onstage. She froze, eyes narrowed as she studied your arms and once again spotted the faint glimmer of patterns. “What…?” she’d whispered inaudibly. Who the hell were you?

“Well, if it isn’t the newest member of the band,” Jinu suddenly announced as he turned to you. You grinned back at him and hummed. She couldn’t hear what you said in reply, but she didn’t care. There were too many things running through her mind, all of which were becoming increasingly annoying to try and make sense of.

You were part of the Saja Boys? But you were a woman. Were you brought there by them as a way to get the attention of more men? That would make sense. It would be far easier for the group to win over more fans that way.

She scoffed and carefully made her way back down to ground-level, peeking through the separate backdrops to get a better view of you. She stiffened. You were beautiful.

That shouldn’t have been a surprise, especially considering the entire tactic of the group was to be attractive and appealing to the public, but it still rendered her frozen in place.

She shook her head. No, she couldn’t be having those thoughts. You were her enemy. You were a demon.

A female demon. Just like her.

She’d come across other female demons before of course, but you were also posing as an idol. You were closer to her in terms of lifestyle than most demons were.

Her mind screamed at her to move, to get away from everything, but she couldn’t. Something about you pulled her in. Something almost instinctual.

She wracked her brain for any potential explanation as to why you could be so tempting without even speaking to her. All of Celine’s teachings flooded through her mind, and after catching a glance at a specific pattern printed on your lower back as you turned, it hit her: you were a succubus.

You were made to entrance and tempt people. No wonder she was feeling the way she was. No wonder your beauty seemed so ethereal. She already knew you weren’t human, but even still, your looks were otherworldly.

She fled from the scene before the group could find her. There was no way she could fight properly with this new information. Mira and Zoey would have to take care of you instead. She’d already been affected by you without even being near you, so there was no guarantee she’d hold her own in a fight — up close and personal.

A thought flashed across her mind briefly. She was quick to shove it back and ignore it, but it came back to taunt her later on that night, long after she’d explained the situation to Mira and Zoey, formed a plan, then headed off to bed.

She wanted to be close to you. As wrong as it was, she had that thought repeatedly over the next few days.

With every new encounter she had with you, Mira or Zoey had to step in and fend you off. She would freeze every time. It was like her brain short-circuited around you.

It only got worse when you pinned her during one of the brawls. That sickening grin plastered over your lips and your charm in full effect — she couldn’t move. Her breath staggered in her throat, arms only managing enough strength to keep your hands away from her face.

But then you hummed. Your nails, sharp and talon-like, grazed effortlessly over her skin, tugging the collar of her turtleneck sweater down just enough to study her patterns that flickered beneath your touch. “Hm, look at that.” She shivered, struggling to keep her expression in check.

You shifted, now playful as you realized her team wasn’t anywhere near, and you moved to straddle her, settling yourself down on her pelvis. She gasped. “Normally, I’m disgusted to see patterns, even my own. But seeing them on such a pretty girl? Oh, darling, on you they’re stunning.”

She couldn’t keep her face fixed into fury anymore at your words. It didn’t help that you were also practically grinding against her either — and she was silently grateful that you didn’t comment on her cock slowly growing rigid beneath you.

She’d never had someone compliment her patterns. They were always treated and viewed as something shameful. It was why she had to hide away all the time.

Yet to hear someone finally seeing them as something to be admired instead of feared? It sparked something deep within her. You weren’t afraid of her, clearly, yet you also didn’t seem to want to hurt her. Given the position and situation, you’d had plenty of opportunities to take her out, and still you hadn’t.

Were you enjoying taunting her like that? It only took one more look at your smug face to get her answer. Of course you were. That was your speciality, after all.

Her brows furrowed again and she grit her teeth, finding her strength again and shoving you off of her. She held the tip of her blade to you once she rose to her feet, but she couldn’t bring herself to actually strike. You noticed immediately. The way her hands shook, combined with her frantic attempts to tug her shirt over her crotch, gave you a full understanding. Your charm had worked on her.

She wouldn’t hurt you. She couldn’t. The attraction was growing too strong.

A holler rang out, the voice familiar and ultimately bringing Rumi’s attention to it. You chuckled and stood. “Better run, pretty girl. Sounds like your friends need a bit of help.” With that, you vanished, returning to the underworld with only a puff of violet smoke left behind.

————————————

She couldn’t get that interaction out of her mind afterwards. It clouded any other thought she tried to form, and her attention was always pulled back to you. You, with a body she craved so desperately. You, with the stunning eyes, tempting lips, and knowing smirk.

You. She wanted you. She couldn’t even fight against that thought anymore, especially not as she let her hand stroke steadily over her shaft in the shower, determined to ease the strain between her legs.

Even with all of her training over the years, she was still rendered useless in a fight if you were involved. It was hard not to give into the temptation to pull you away into an alley or behind a shop and have her way with you. She couldn’t tell anyone regardless. They wouldn’t understand anyway.

It was a forbidden attraction to you, and she knew very well that things wouldn’t end well if she gave into her desires, but some part of her was desperate to be close to you — to be granted such a high level of intimacy with someone who actually understood what it was like to have to hide away from the world.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard she fought against it, she’d cave eventually.

Because now she had you pinned beneath her on the sofa in her dressing room, your legs wrapped around her waist as she thrusted herself into you, her movements frenzied and uncontrolled as she finally worked towards releasing her stress.

She had one hand clamped over your mouth. There was no way she’d let the others know what was going on. They’d never look at her the same if they knew she was actively sleeping with the enemy.

She huffed, tilting her head down to whisper in your ear. “Not a word to anyone, got it?” You grinned. Gwi-Ma had eyes on every demon who reached the earth’s surface at all times, and there was no doubt he knew what was going on, but you wouldn’t fill her in on that detail yet. Instead, you nodded, offering up a muffled moan that prompted her to snap her hips forward even harder.

“Fuck,” she blurted, stifling a whine and resorting to panting instead. “Fuck, I’m so close…” As if her admission was a cue, you clenched around her, finally coaxing her orgasm out. Her arms and back stiffened, skin growing taut over her muscles, and you listened as her breath caught in her throat before coming out in a broken whine.

There was no attempt made to pull out of you. She slammed herself all the way in, her arms snaking around you and pulling you flush against her as her cum spilled inside, filling and warming you delightfully.

She thrusted lazily in an attempt to milk her orgasm, but she finally fell still on top of you, chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as she tried to calm herself down. You smiled down at her and let your fingers stroke over her back.

She shivered and whimpered. Every inch of skin burned under your touch. It was clear that her body ached for you, but it was a sensation she didn’t necessarily mind anymore. There was no point in lying to herself. This wasn’t going to be the last time.

And it wasn’t.

Not even two days later, she had you with her backstage, though you weren’t in a dressing room this time. You were tucked away behind pillars that held up the lights and backdrop, a few spare amps and cases stacked around to shield the majority of what was going on.

There was a much higher chance that the two of you would be caught in that place, but it seemed like Rumi’s increasing attraction to you blinded her from that fact. She wasn’t anywhere near as concerned on trying to hide away as she was the time before.

You were bent over one of the larger amps with her standing behind you, settled between your legs and drilling herself into you with a growing fervor that made it hard not to cry out and accidentally alert anyone nearby of what you were doing.

You had to admit: Rumi knew what she was doing, despite you being the first person she’d ever slept with. You tried to hide it of course, but she made you feel incredible without even trying. As a succubus, you’d been with others before, but no one had gotten you off even once. They were always too focused on their own pleasure.

Rumi, even in her lust-riddled haze, made you cum more times than you could count. That was one of the benefits of her having a demon half: her stamina was higher than that of a full-blooded human. Plus, being an idol and a hunter gave her higher stamina as well. She could push past the fatigue and overstimulation with ease.

“Shit,” she hissed, nails digging into your hips as she continually slammed herself into you. “God, you feel so good,” she murmured. Her nose buried itself into the back of your shoulder, eyes pinched shut as she focused on the feeling of your walls stroking her and massaging her. You grinned as a way to try and hide your faltering facade. You were breaking beneath her, the knot tightening to a sickening degree in your belly as she brought you to your own high.

“You like this, don’t you?” You pressed your lips together tightly. It didn’t sound like she was teasing you for enjoying it. Her tone made it seem like she genuinely wanted to know. You nodded, sucking in a deep breath. “Yes,” you whispered back. Her lips pressed into the side of your neck to press a chaste kiss there, an action that made you freeze.

“Do you like me?” Had your mind been clear, you would’ve kept up your act, taunting her for being so delusional and insisting you were only having fun. However, having your mind flooded entirely by lust blurred your rationality. “Yes,” you finally stammered out after a moment. “Yes, I like you, Rumi.”

The confirmation forced her hips into you a final time, and a stifled, strained groan erupted past her lips as she hugged you from behind, pulling you into her arms as she once again filled you to the brim. “I like you, too,” she mumbled between bursts of her cum. When she finally emptied the rest of herself into you, she huffed, her hand already slipping down between your legs to rub at your clit as she shakily resumed her thrusts.

Once again, it wasn’t hard for her to get you off. You coated her shaft with your desire, and once she knew you were both satisfied for the time being, she stood and pulled out of you. Before she could wipe herself clean, you turned and dropped to your knees. You took her into your mouth — and quickly after, your throat — and let your tongue work around her until she was clean.

After pulling herself out, she gazed down at you. Her fingers, trembling, brushed your hair away from your face to give her a better look at you as you stared up at her through half-lidded eyes. “So beautiful,” she whispered.

You grinned up at her and slowly stood to meet her eye. “Not as beautiful as you, pretty girl.” Even as your legs wobbled slightly beneath you, you bent back down to pull your underwear and shorts back up, only for her to stop you. You looked up at her, not bothering to fight against her as she led you backwards and helped you sit on the amp.

“Let me help.” She crouched down between your legs and instantly latched herself to your core, her tongue flat against your entrance and lapping up the mixture of your cum and hers, similar to the way you’d done for her. Your thighs twitched beside her head once she propped them up onto her shoulders, but you still didn’t fight back.

When she was finished, she pressed a soft kiss to both of your thighs, then stood, finally letting you tug your clothes back on. She did the same and sighed when she saw you were both ready to head back to your respective groups. Before you could slip out first, she grabbed your hand.

“Hey, wait,” she blurted, and you turned to her. “Did you mean what you said? That you like me?” A slow blink was your only reply for a long moment, and the stretch of silence was visibly depleting her hope each second, though her grasp on you didn’t falter.

You fought with yourself mentally for a while over this exact situation. You knew Gwi-Ma was more than aware of what was happening, and you knew Rumi had started catching feelings. No matter what you said, you’d be disappointing someone.

Still, seeing the spark of desire for you in Rumi’s eyes left you second-guessing yourself. You didn’t care what Gwi-Ma did to you in that moment. You couldn’t bear the devastation you’d cause Rumi if you denied what you said before.

Smiling at her, you stepped forward and cupped her face with your free hand. She tensed, but then relaxed, melting into your touch and closing her eyes. “Of course I meant it. I still do.” She opened her eyes again. “Really?” You nodded, and you tried to ignore the way your heart throbbed at the sight of her smile.

Knowing you were risking everything, you gave her a quick kiss before pulling away, turning before you could see the dismay riddled across her features.

“And hey, who knows? If you keep this up, I’ll probably fall for you too.” She made no move to grab you again, but she spoke. “Could we maybe… be a thing then?” You peeked at her over your shoulder. “If you start to feel that way about me, I mean. Could we have something more? Something real? Something beyond sex.”

You shrugged, scratching the back of your neck as you weighed the reaction of each possible response. You couldn’t ever be in a relationship with her. Gwi-Ma would punish you worse than ever before. Still, once again, you didn’t want to be the cause behind Rumi’s heartbreak.

“I don’t know. Only time will tell. Knowing you though, it’ll probably happen.” You glanced at her again with the expectation to find her smiling, though your own grin fell flat at the sight of her simply staring at you. She stepped closer, and you turned. “If you’re freed from Gwi-Ma… if you could live here without his voice constantly in your head. Would you want to spend that life with me?”

Every limb bristled at her question. Her hand gently took yours again. “We could live a normal life — together. We could be happy.” She paused and took a breath, one that you mirrored as you kept your eyes focused on her hold on you. “Would you want that too?”

Images flashed in your mind of a possible future with her — something you never thought you’d even entertain the idea of. You couldn’t bite back the warm smile that painted your lips as you looked back up at her. “Yeah,” you replied, voice soft and sincere. “Yeah, I’d want that.”

Credits || Banner art - bubbathesaur

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@viitalvile @r3naiss4nc3 @idontwannabeable

It started at a concert after-party. Mira and Zoey were off socializing and networking, charming fans and donors alike with their easy smiles and practiced grace. Usually, Rumi would be right beside them, helping smooth over deals and keeping up appearances. But not tonight.

She had claimed a shadowed corner near the bar, her back pressed against the wall where she had a perfect vantage point of the exits and the restless ebb of partygoers. Old habits—warrior instincts—never really left her. The music throbbed low in her chest, bass rattling through glassware, but her mind wandered elsewhere.

That’s when she noticed you.

You were perched on a barstool, apart from the crowd but not in a way that screamed isolation. A quiet kind of confidence clung to you, even as you nursed what looked like some overly sweet, neon-colored drink. Every now and then, the flashing lights caught in your eyes, glinting just a little too sharply, a little too unnaturally. Rumi’s senses pricked. Demon.

Yet instead of alarm, intrigue stirred in her. You weren’t hiding, but you weren’t flaunting yourself either. Dangerous, but composed.

Your gaze lifted, locking onto hers across the room. For a moment, the entire party faded—the hum of chatter, the music, even the shifting press of bodies. Just you and her, caught in that electric pause.

Rumi pushed off the wall. Her strides were deliberate but unhurried, like a predator closing distance but without the malice. You tracked her every step, lips curving into something that could be either a warning or an invitation.

"Mind if I sit?", Rumi’s voice was low, steady, tinged with the kind of authority that rarely asked permission.

"You already decided to", you murmured, sliding your drink aside to give her space. The faintest smirk tugged at your lips, "Hunter."

Rumi arched a brow, "And you’re not even pretending."

"Why bother?", you leaned in slightly, your voice velvet-smooth, almost lost beneath the thrum of bass, "I think you’d rather I didn’t."

Rumi didn't respond, instead giving a noncommital hum and taking another sip of her drink.

"Where’s the rest of your entourage?" you teased, leaning just a little closer, "Aren’t you usually attached at the hip?"

"They’re off enjoying the party", Rumi replied, tone clipped, as if to dismiss the topic. But her gaze flicked to your lips before snapping back up. She hadn’t meant for you to notice.

"And you?", you slide closer to the Huntr/x leader, your leg grazing hers through the slit in your dress. Heat bloomed where your skin met, "Are you enjoying the party?"

Rumi's breath hitched. The line between danger and desire blurred as the air thickened between the two you. Her instincts told her to be careful, to keep her blade sharp and her walls higher. But her pulse betrayed her, quickening as you tilted your head, studying her with equal parts curiosity and hunger.

"I think I'm starting to."

The corner of your mouth curved, satisfied, "Good."

To a normal onlooker, there was nothing strange about the scene. Just two women having a conversation—a flirtation, if you wanted to get technical—but nothing was normal about this.

It was a dangerous game they were playing. Hunter and demon. Oil and water. These two things did not mix. Yet when your hand ghosted over hers on the bar top, fingers brushing as though testing a boundary. Rumi didn’t pull away. Instead, she let her thumb shift—barely, but enough to acknowledge the contact.

The music pounded, the room alive with laughter and movement, but here, in this corner, it was suddenly too small. Too charged.

"Careful", Rumi murmured, though the warning lacked its usual bite, "You don’t know what you’re playing with."

"Oh, I think I do." You leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear, voice dropping into something intimate, dangerous, "And the question is… do you?"

Rumi’s glass hit the counter with a muted clink. Her decision was wordless, but it was there—clear as the fire sparking in her eyes.

You smirked, sliding off your stool with fluid ease, and Rumi followed without hesitation. The crowd didn’t notice the two of you slipping away, too lost in their own haze of alcohol and music.

You led her upstairs and into an empty bedroom, neither of you caring whose it belonged to—only that it had a bed and a lock. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing the two of you in a pocket of silence muffled from the party below.

You stopped first, right in the middle of the room. For all your bravado, for every teasing smile and sly touch, a flicker of uncertainty still caught in your chest. You’d baited the hunter and she had followed, but now, here, with her standing so close and the weight of her gaze pinning you in place… you weren’t sure if you wanted her to catch you—or if you’d survive it.

Rumi noticed. Of course she did. Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying you the way she studied demons on the hunt—sharp, discerning, pulling apart every tell. But instead of striking, she softened, closing the distance with slow, deliberate steps.

Her hand found yours, warm and steady. "We can stop", she murmured, voice lower than before, stripped of performance. "Say the word, and I’ll walk out that door."

The air between you thrummed with choice. Hunter and demon, predator and prey—yet here you were, standing in a quiet bedroom, pulse racing for reasons that had nothing to do with survival.

You tipped your chin up, meeting her eyes with a spark that cut through your hesitation, "And if I don’t say it?"

Rumi’s lips quirked, hunger threading through her restraint.

You exhaled, the decision rushing through you like fire. Taking her hand, you guided it to the slit of your dress, laying it against the warm skin of your thigh.

Her lips crashed into yours.

The kiss was nothing tentative. Fierce, hungry, like she wanted to burn away every reason not to want you. Your hands slid over her shoulders, curling into the fabric of her jacket before tugging her closer. Rumi groaned low in her throat, one hand seizing your waist, pulling you flush against the firm lines of her body.

"You taste like trouble", she muttered against your mouth, her breath ragged.

"And you taste like someone who doesn’t care", you teased, nipping her bottom lip before deepening the kiss.

Rumi shrugged out of her jacket with a rough motion, letting it fall wherever it landed without a second thought. Her hands were back on you in an instant, strong arms sliding beneath your thighs as she lifted you effortlessly. You clung to her shoulders, breath catching as she carried you to the bed like you weighed nothing at all.

She laid you down with surprising care, the contrast to her rough urgency only making your pulse race faster. Her gaze swept over you—sharp, hungry—before her fingers found the hem of your dress again. This time she pushed it higher, slow and deliberate, baring the smooth line of your thighs inch by inch, savoring the reveal like it was something holy.

By now, the hard press of her arousal strained visibly against the confines of her pants. You reached down, hand slipping over the firm outline beneath the fabric, cupping her with deliberate pressure. The sound she made—a sharp hiss dragged from her throat—shot straight through you. Her hips jerked instinctively into your palm, her breath breaking against your lips.

"Fuck…", The sound escaped her in a shuddering groan, your touch unraveling the careful control she’d clung to.

You reached down with your other hand, hastily undoing her belt. Rumi didn't even bother fully taking it off, just pushing her pants and underwear down halfway like a horny teenager.

You gasped when she pressed against you, the head of her cock rubbing hot through the thin barrier of your underwear.

"Already so wet", she muttered, hooking her fingers into the fabric and tearing it aside. Her cock slid against your folds, dragging through the slick heat, teasing but not yet pushing in.

"Rumi—" Your voice broke as you said (more like gasped) her name for the first time. Your eyes glowing gold against your will.

Something inside the hunter broke at hearing that. Like you saying her name somehow made everything more real, more vulnerable.

"Say it again."

"Rumi…", you whined, tired of her teasing.

Before you could get too upset, she pushed herself inside you. The stretch made you gasp, your nails digging into her shoulders as she filled you in one slow, claiming push. Thick, hot, every inch of her buried deep until you could feel her pulse inside you. Rumi groaned low in her throat, forehead dropping to your shoulder as she held there, savoring the way your body clenched tight around her.

"You feel…", She bit back a curse, thrusting shallowly before bottoming out again, "…so good."

You couldn't answer. For once, you were stunned speechless, just trying to adjust the feeling of her inside you.

Though she started slow, her rhythm built up fast—each snap of her hips sharp, deliberate, driving you harder into the bed. Your moans intertwined with hers, echoing down the hallway where no one could hear over the bass from the party. Every thrust had you keening, your body caught between the soft pillows and her solid body.

One of her hands slipped between your bodies, finding your clit and circling it in messy, desperate strokes. The dual sensation quickly careening you towards the edge. You seized her face in both hands, dragging her mouth to yours. The kiss was wild, teeth and tongue clashing, every ounce of your unraveling pouring into it. You couldn’t form the words—so you let the kiss carry it all: your surrender, your need, the way she was driving you over the edge. Your body clenched tight around her cock, the heat and pressure overwhelming, causing the patterns across your body to ripple in color.

Her pace stuttered, a strangled groan ripping from her throat as you milked her with every spasm. She slammed into you once, twice more before shuddering, spilling deep inside you with a guttural moan muffled against your lips. Rumi's own patterns glowing in tandem and for a brief moment she panicked, her golden left eye widening in fear.

You realized what it meant and for some strange reason you didn't care. You pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, whispering, "I won't tell."

Her body relaxed above you, but she made no effort to move, keeping you pinned against her like she wasn’t ready to pull away. The two of you stayed pressed together, leaving only the quiet press of bodies and the sound of your mingled breathing. Rumi held you, still buried deep inside, her forehead resting against yours. The sharp edges of her composure were gone, melting into something soft and fragile.

"You okay?" she asked, brushing her thumb across your cheek.

A rare smile touched your lips, small and fleeting, but genuine.

"Yes…are you?"

Rumi chuckled under her breath, that low, warm sound that you hadn’t expected from her, "Haven’t felt like this in a long time."

The two of you lingered in the stolen space, trading lazy kisses that held less urgency and more reverence. She kissed your temple, your jaw, the corner of your mouth, as if memorizing the taste of you. Her fingers traced idle circles at your waist, grounding herself in the reality of your presence. You let yourself get lost in the sensations, running your fingers in her lavender hair.

For a moment, it felt dangerously like something more than lust.

And then—

"Rumi!" Mira’s voice rang faintly from deeper in the party. A second later came Zoey’s, sharper, tinged with impatience. "Where the hell did you disappear to?"

Rumi stiffened, her gaze flicking toward the sound, then back to you. Her jaw worked as if she were fighting herself. "I need to…"

“I know,” you say. Though you don’t mean to, a trace of sadness slips into your voice—reality always had a way of creeping back in.

Pressing one last kiss to her lips. "Go. They’ll start tearing the place apart if you don’t."

She hesitated, torn between duty and the magnetic pull of you. Finally, she let out a frustrated sigh, stepping back. "Don’t move. I’ll come right back."

You only smiled as she tried to fix her disheveled appearance, looking around the room for suit jacket.

Rumi gave you one last look—her eyes conveying something neither of you dare name— before she turned and strode off down the hallway, her voice carrying as she called out to Mira and Zoey. Their chatter swallowed her up, their laughter echoing as they pulled her back into the swirl of the party.

When she returned it was to an empty bedroom. No trace of you remained—no scent, no sound, not even a lingering warmth.

You were gone.

~~~~

Three years had passed since that night. Huntr/x had grown into a worldwide phenomenon, their influence spreading farther than anyone had imagined. The Honmoon glowed brighter than ever, its silver-blue light casting a quiet, almost sacred glow over the city at night. And yet… Rumi couldn’t stop thinking about that night.

Couldn’t stop thinking about you.

She worried about you. Wondered if you were okay. Wondered how the Honmoon’s energy was affecting you—and more than that, she wondered if she would ever see you again.

It was selfish, she knew. But her chest still tightened at the memories she had tried so hard to bury. It would never work out, she told herself, again and again. Hunter and demon. Enemies and lovers. Two worlds that could never truly align.

Tonight, though, she had no choice but to push it aside. A rift had appeared near a quiet residential area, and Huntr/x had been dispatched to close it. Duty demanded her full focus—there would be time for memories, and regrets, later.

With a wordless signal Rumi sent Mira and Zoey off, following close behind. They took care of the unruly demons with quick precision. Working as one unit like they've done so many times before.

They were almost finished driving the demons back when Rumi caught sight of a figure darting away from the fight. Without thinking, she sprinted after them, instincts screaming—this had to be an errant demon trying to escape. Sword lifted, she readied herself to strike, muscles coiled like a spring.

Then a voice cut through the chaos.

"Please don’t! I have a child!"

Rumi froze mid-stride, her mind spinning. The words—familiar, impossibly familiar—hit her harder than any blow. And then she saw your face.

Recognition slammed into her chest like a hammer. Your eyes met hers, wide and desperate, but alive. And tucked against your chest was a small figure, hair unmistakenly purple like hers, patterns running along the small body, tiny hands clutching your neck in fear.

Her sword lowered slowly, disbelief making her hands tremble. "You…?" she whispered, barely audible over the fading chaos of the rift.

"I—Rumi", you said, voice shaky, "I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you, wished I could tell you but—"

The hunter shook her head, swallowing hard. "No", she interrupted softly, voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and relief. "You had to. I… I understand."

Rumi knew better than most the complications that a partial demon child could bring. But to see them—see her. The child clutched at your chest, tiny fingers gripping your clothing as their wide eyes tracked Rumi’s every move.

You held the child protectively, but didn’t step back.

Rumi’s sword hand shook, the weight of it suddenly unbearable. To think she almost—no, she couldn't even finish the thought. She let her sword dissolve into light, holding her hands up in a surrender, unsure if she should even approach.

"Hi. I’m Rumi", She lowered herself slightly to meet the child's eyes, her voice gentle, stripped of the command and authority she usually carried. "It’s… so nice to meet you."

Her gaze flicked back up to you, and a pang of longing and regret twisted through her chest. She’d missed so much—years of her child's life, a child she never even knew existed—the thought that she had ever walked away from that room at all made her heart ache with a quiet, bitter weight.

She took a tentative step closer, every movement careful, as if afraid to shatter the fragile moment. "I… I’m so sorry", she whispered, voice breaking slightly.

"It’s not your fault, Rumi", you said softly.

Hearing you say her name—just like you had that night—shattered something inside her.

Rumi sank to her knees, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. You knelt beside her, holding your daughter close, letting her small warmth anchor both of you.

"Her name is Rahee", you said, your voice trembling with the pain of years lost, and the hope of love reclaimed. "She’s ours."

Rumi’s fingers shook as she reached out to brush a strand of hair from Rahee’s face. "She… she’s beautiful"

You glanced toward the edge of the clearing, where Mira and Zoey had arrived, their expressions a mix of shock and curiosity. Rumi didn't need words, communicating silently with the other two members of her team.

Mira gave a subtle nod, while Zoey beamed, estatic about the new additions. No questions, no judgment—just acceptance.

In time, they would face Gwi-ma in the demon realm, ending him once and for all. His defeat would free the remaining demons from his control and influence, finally granting you the peace you deserved. Free to live openly with Rumi and Rahee, together as a family, without fear and without compromise.

Hunter and demon.

The livestream was supposed to be Cami’s moment, her chaos, her charm, her way of dragging you into the frame for fun, like she always does. You’d only harmonized absentmindedly, forgetting the camera was still rolling, not noticing Cami had gone silent just as your voice slipped into Daniela’s verse like second nature.

“Élla llegó conmigo y conmigo se va…” Not él, not he—ella. She.

Fuck. 

Fans noticed what you wouldn't let yourself admit: that you sang it like you meant it.

It was the truth you’d been careful to keep quiet, suddenly laid bare in your lower register, crooning her verse like a prayer, when you weren’t even remotely religious. 

The comment section erupted. Edits popped up within minutes, slowed down and sharpened, layered with glitchy hearts and text like “she’s so whipped” and “SYRE’s gay panic is off the charts.” 

You’d turned off your phone that night. You couldn’t bear to look at it. You couldn’t bear to think about the consequences that were bound to follow you now.

It was easy to pretend that meeting her didn’t blur the line between a fan with privileges and something more. It was easy to pretend that the crush you so easily exposed was simple admiration for the older woman. It was easy to play it off as a simple schoolgirl crush. It was supposed to be easy. You were supposed to laugh it off, the way you always do.

The next morning, everything was too quiet. Cami gave you a knowing look over her cereal. Hana didn’t mention it, but you knew she’d seen it too. Sophia chatted you a simple: “I saw your live, I do expect you to call me ate now or I will cry.” And by that, you knew they saw. You knew she saw it. 

You always forget how much the camera sees, how much the internet remembers, how much you give away when she’s involved.

Because Daniela…

God, Daniela.

She walks into a room and it becomes a cathedral. Her laugh stays lodged in your chest for hours after she’s gone, the sound of it reverberating in your soul, so much so that it makes you want to kneel and worship her. Worship her warmth and sharp edges, her softness that’s tucked inside layers of cool confidence. 

You’d memorized every interview, every fancam, every vocal run like it was scripture. So when you finally heard her speak beside you, laugh beside you, it felt like the universe had cheated. How could she be real?

And then, she stayed real.

It didn’t happen all at once.

Feelings never do, not when you’re trying this hard not to have them.

It’s a slow, creeping thing, a slow ache that reminds you of the feeling of anesthesia losing its effect . The kind that settles under your skin during long filming days and late-night voice recordings. The kind that grew heavier after every joint stage rehearsal, every casual voice note shared during late-night vocal check-ins. The kind that tightens around your ribs every time you hear her laugh off-camera, that unfiltered, low, real, screeching laugh of hers that felt like it belonged to a secret version of her, one only you were allowed to see. The kind that grows every time she looks at you like she knows something you don’t.

You tried to be busy, tried to fill the silences with loud dorm antics, dance trends on tiktok that were borderline thirstraps, and chaotic dance practice clips.

The vlog series helped as well. There’s always something to shoot: interviews, behind-the-scenes clips, dance footage. You play your part, chaotic, funny, the "mysterious" one the editors love to frame in shadows and cropped smiles. They didn’t know it was because you were biting back words you weren’t allowed to say.  

But between takes, when the cameras dip low and the crew resets mics, you find yourself searching for her in the reflection of the monitors.

And she’s always looking back. That gaze of hers that always ignites your hunger, your yearning, your longing. Your longing to be the only one she gazes that way. Yet every time, every day, every second you remind yourself of something.

You weren’t allowed to fall in love with someone who told the world she was straight.

So you don’t.

You just think about her. Constantly.

You think about her when she’s around. You think about her when she’s gone. You’ve danced in circles like this for weeks now. Brushed fingers. Shared water bottles. A too-long hug at the end of an afterparty shoot. Nothing concrete. Nothing you could name. 

But you feel it. It was everything you dreamed of.

Daniela started to linger more. Quietly, at first, nothing too dramatic. Dani’s too careful for that. But there were glances. Lingering ones. 

A look across the practice room that lasted too long. A comment during vocal practice: “You have a nice lower register. It suits you.” She didn’t say it like a mentor. She said it as if she’s holding something back. 

Something you couldn’t let yourself imagine, something you couldn’t let yourself feel hope for something that might never exist. 

She tossed the occasional compliment your way with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. And then… longer. You felt as if everything grew more intense. 

In the studio. During practice. Her fingertips light on your elbow, your wrist, your waist, your hips; places that burn after she’s left.

You tell yourself it’s just mentoring. You tell yourself it’s nothing. You tell yourself to stop hoping.

Because hoping hurts worse.

And still, she looks at you like she’s trying to figure you out. Like she’s afraid of what she might find. Like she already knows what she’ll find and she’s terrified.

You don’t talk about it.

Instead, you keep your distance. Smile less around her. Touch her less. Pull away when she’s too close. You stop catching her gaze across the room and start looking down at your shoes. And it hurts. God, it hurts. But you tell yourself it’s kindness.

You want her to be happy. Even if it’s not with you. Even if it never could be. You’ve been her fan for too long to want anything but her happiness.

But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to be hers. Not her fan. Not her junior. Not her mentee. Hers. Alone. Fully.

You just don’t know if you’re allowed to want that.

But she- God, she does things.

Like that night. That one night.

You’d just finished recording a practice run of “Your Idol.” The others had packed up, voices low, energy winding down. She stayed behind. Said she forgot her water bottle. You stayed too, making sure that none of your members left anything. That’s all it was supposed to be.

Until she leaned too close behind you, breath hot against your ear as she reached for something behind you.

“You killed that last note,” she murmured. “It gave me chills.”

You tried to laugh it off. “I was flat.”

“You weren’t.”

And then, she touched your face. Just… her knuckles, barely grazing your jaw as she turned you to look at her. You felt your face burn, you felt your skin react to her touch, you felt your chin lift up slightly as she tilted your head up with a single long nail.

Then her eyes flicked down to your mouth. Just for a second.

Too long.

Nothing happened. But everything did.

Your chest collapsed inward. You couldn’t breathe.

You stepped back. Left the room without saying goodbye. She didn’t stop you.

You haven’t slept properly since that night. Forced to relive that night, among other moments from your filming of the debut diaries, the memories that haunt you as you lay awake on your bed with “Kahit Di Mo Alam” blasting on your speakers, among the other songs that’s under your “trilingual yearning” playlist. 

You don’t know what that moment meant.

You don’t ask.

But every time she smiles at you now, every time her fingertips graze your shoulder and linger just a second too long, you feel it all over again.

You don’t know what she wants. You don’t even know if she knows.

But you know what you feel.

And you know how dangerous it is to keep feeling it.

Because the moment she says your name a certain way, you know you’re gone.

And you’re terrified you never really had the right to feel these things to begin with.

So you did what you knew best, you kept your distance.

You rehearse until your limbs tremble, you stay at the far end of every mentoring session, and when the KATSEYE girls are visiting the studio, you find excuses to vanish into practice rooms or the bathroom. You joke, you smile, you flirt with Manon and Lara when Cami drags you in. But when it’s Daniela’s eyes on you, that sharp, piercing gaze of hers, it’s like you forget how to be alive. 

Because she’s straight. You always remind yourself that.

She said it on a live before you two even met, before your debut even. Before she knew you existed. 

“I’m not gay guys” she said without hesitation but with a small, amused laugh. “Enough with the gay allegations.”

And maybe she is. Maybe you’re stupid for feeling this way. That allegedly haunted you for weeks. Still does. 

So you shut your mouth, lower your gaze, and pretend your heart isn’t sitting in your throat every time her gaze lingers longer than it should. You pretend it’s not a big deal when you pass each other in the hallway and her fingers almost brush yours. You laugh it off when Cami teases you about “your girlfriend,” because no one knows you mean it.

But still, there’s something different in the way she looks at you lately.

Something you don’t trust. Something you can’t believe in.

You don’t let yourself hope.

As days, weeks pass, you become hyper-aware of the performance looming over you, a monstrous thing. The venue is said to be massive, the crowd twice as large as you’ve ever faced. KATSEYE will be in the front row, and you know she’ll be there, front and center. You’re supposed to be excited. But you already feel the room spinning. The mask you wear on stage is heavier now. Heavier because you know she’ll see it fall; even if only for a second.

And for once, you’re terrified of being seen.

You’ve performed before; small stages, campus shows, pop-up gigs in half-empty malls, but tonight? Tonight, your knees feel like they're made of gelatin. It's your first real crowd. Thousands of faces, lights as harsh as expectations, cameras trained on every second like it’s history in the making.

Deep breaths. Count to 10. Release.

You stood in front of the mirror, fingers hovering near your chest as the stylists adjusted the last of the buckles on your custom stage outfit. All-black, tailored, sharp, and far too expensive to be sweating through, but here you were. You looked like you just stepped out of a movie about a charming art thief. Or a hot villain in a heist K-drama. 

Deep breaths. Count to 10. Release.

You assess the situation again. You’re standing in your cramped dressing room, the door labelled “SIREN5” in bold letters, eyeing your reflection. Sharp-cut pants hugging your hips, a sleek dark vest over sheer black sleeves, your hair swept back but purposefully messy; confident, your stylist had said. Commanding. Bold. You stare, then turn to your members.

“I look like a pimp,” you announce flatly.

"I agree. You literally look like our pimp, or rather… hmm… honestly, it looks more or less like you're about to hand us business cards and ask if we want to be famous" Cami said with a snort, tugging on her pastel corset top.

"I feel like one." you muttered, glancing sideways at Hana, Amara, and Rina, all dressed in glittering, soft silhouettes with rhinestones catching the light.

“You look like a God,” Rina retorts immediately, throwing a hairbrush at your bedazzled fur boots. “A hot, slightly unhinged one.”

“You’re gonna make all of the Sailors combust.” Cami snickers, twirling in her own sparkly halter dress.

“Please don’t encourage her,” Hana mutters while adjusting her earpiece, eyes flicking up from her clipboard of stage cues. She’s been awake since 4 AM. Again. She’s too stressed recently.

You pretend to scoff, but the pressure's sitting heavy in your stomach now, pressing and twisting until your throat tightens. 

It was real now.

The crowd waiting outside wasn’t some studio camera. This wasn’t a rehearsal with the same three sleepy choreographers. This was real. Their first massive live audience.

The moment you caught your reflection again, the nausea hit. Hard.

“I’ll be right back” you mutter, pushing past them with forced calm. No one stops you. They all know what’s happening. You  push past crew members and makeup artists, you dodge multiple boxes of stage equipment. You made it to the sink just in time.

The bathroom mirror greets you with too much honesty. Your cheeks are pale, and sweat beads your brow. You brace your hands on the sink. One breath. Another.

Deep breaths. Count to 10. Release.

A few dry heaves later, you were hunched over, wiping your mouth with trembling fingers, your other hand clinging to the porcelain like it’s the only solid thing in the world when the door creaked open.

“Hey,” came a voice, soft, low, steady.

You looked up. Of course it’s Daniela Avanzini. Because nothing else makes this situation better than her seeing you in your most vulnerable state yet.

She stood in the doorway, all perfect curls and calm eyes, her hoodie sleeves pushed up and hands in her pockets, her performance outfit peeking out ever so slightly, her lips held a lollipop between them.

She looked effortless. Like she didn’t even try to look that good and it just happened.

You, on the other hand, look like a deer caught in headlights. Or a deer about to throw up. Or a deer that’s about to be road kill.

You can’t meet her eyes. Not like this.

“I’m okay” you lie.

“You sure?” she asks, stepping in like it’s nothing. Like she always catches junior idols vomiting from nerves.

You nod too fast. “Super okay. Sexy, even. Nothing says charisma like barfing before a performance.”

That earns a soft laugh. “Iconic, honestly.”

She doesn’t leave.

She leans against the sink beside you like it’s normal, like it’s easy. Like your heart isn’t doing Olympic gymnastics in your chest.

There's silence. Comfortable. Agonizing.

“I’m scared” you whisper, too soft to be anyone but yourself.

“I know,” she says. “But you’ve got this.”

You want to believe her. You want to ask her to say it again. You want to pretend her presence doesn’t make your head spin worse than the nerves ever could.

You want to tell her that you’re not just scared of performing. You want to tell her that you’re scared, not of her, but of what’s happening between the two of you. But you settle for the next 6 words instead.

“You always say the right things.” you murmur.

She gives you a half-smile. “Only with you.”

Your breath catches.

Your pulse stutters.

You look away first.

She doesn’t push. She never does.

Instead, she lets the moment settle; heavy, quiet, dense with things neither of you will say. Her fingers don't reach for yours. Her eyes don't drop to your lips. She doesn’t lean in. But God, she doesn’t have to.

Because the way she looks at you, like she’s figuring out a puzzle she’s scared to finish, is almost worse.

So you square your shoulders. Crack a joke that doesn’t quite land. Smile like you’re not unravelling beneath the weight of almosts and maybes. You wear your mask like it was made for you; like you didn’t just spend the night dreaming of a world where you could be hers.

But as she turns to leave, her fingers brush against yours, barely there, just enough to steal the air from your lungs. And in that instant, you feel it again: the illusion of closeness, the echo of something you wish you could name. Something that isn’t yours to want.

You stand still long after the door clicks shut behind her.

Because you know now, things aren’t fine. They haven’t been for a while.

And when the stage lights bleed into your skin and the crowd screams loud enough to drown your pulse, she’ll be there. Front row. Watching. Waiting.

You’ll hit your mark. Drop to your knees, like the choreo demands.

And you’ll look up.

And she’ll already be looking.

And everything you’ve tried so desperately to bury, every shaky breath, every missed beat of your heart when she smiles your way, will rise like smoke and hang between you, impossible to ignore.

Because the truth is, you’ve already fallen. Hard. Quietly.

You’re just pretending it doesn’t hurt.

You let out a soft, bitter laugh at the absurdity of it all. This whole situation feels like something ripped straight out of the digital comics you binge in the dead of night, eyes wide, heart clenching over slow-burn tension and unspoken pining. The kind of trope you’ve always loved: the soft-spoken idol hopelessly in love with her unreachable sun. The magnetic touches. The lingering stares. The space between words that feels louder than anything said aloud.

You just never thought you’d be living it.

And yet here you are. Throat tight. Heart heavier than you’ll ever admit out loud. Because this isn’t fiction. There’s no cut to the next chapter. No narration box explaining her thoughts. No convenient dialogue options or internal monologues. Just this fragile space between you, cluttered with fleeting glances and barely-there touches that feel like everything and nothing at once.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to feel. Hope? Shame? Longing?

All you know is that you’re trapped in a story with no plot; just pages of unresolved tension and no promise of closure. 

And that you absolutely do not have time to spiral in a cramped bathroom you’ve already spent way too long in.

“Shit.” You curse, jolting back into motion as if the air itself is chasing you. Because it is. Time, nerves, the weight of everything you’re not allowed to say.

And the last thing you want is to see the look on Hana’s face when you keep the group waiting.

You brush past her on your way out, fingers grazing hers for half a second too long.

She doesn’t say anything. Neither do you. But the silence crackles like it’s holding something back.

She doesn’t look back. Neither do you. And yet, Daniela can’t move.

As you disappear around the corner, Daniela stares at the closed bathroom door for a moment longer than necessary. She stands there for another beat too long, listening to the silence you left behind. Her heart drums in her chest like it’s a metronome for a song she doesn’t know the lyrics to.

She should go.

Instead, she lingers.

Her hand still tingles from where your fingers barely touched. That shouldn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just adrenaline, pre-show jitters, the kind everyone gets. You’re nervous, she was there, and the rest is just… hormones. Pressure. Whatever.

But even as she tells herself that, her chest doesn’t listen. There’s something stuck there: tight, unfamiliar. And worse than that, there’s a strange ache that she can’t name.

Daniela exhales sharply and finally starts walking. Her heels echo against the hallway tile, the noise grounding her. Mechanical. Rational. Keep moving.

The muffled thrum of bass is already pulsing through the venue walls, the low buzz of pre-show excitement building like static. Every step she takes feels heavier than the last.

She should be focused, mentally taking notes like she always does before a performance, sizing up the stage, observing crowd reactions, gauging lighting and sound. But instead, her thoughts keep circling the same thing:

Your voice, quiet and shaking. The way you wouldn’t meet her eyes. The soft laugh you let out like you were the punchline to your own joke.

She remembers watching Cami’s livestream. It was just a glimpse, just enough. She remembers hearing you sing her part. Not “él.” Ella.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She found herself looping the clip after.

Her stomach twisted. It still does.

There was something in your voice that day. Something real. And maybe she’s a fool, but she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

What does it mean? Why does it stick with her like this? 

She doesn’t do this. She doesn’t feel like this.

She doesn’t get distracted. Not over someone she’s barely even spoken to outside of group settings. Not over a girl who sings her lines like prayers, eyes closed like she’s afraid to be caught.

And yet.

Your voice still rings in her head

“Ella llegó conmigo y conmigo se va.”

Not just harmony. Possession. Intention.

A line Daniela knows by heart, turned intimate in your lower register.

She doesn’t know what to do with that.

It’s fine. Everything’s fine. She convinces herself, reminds herself of what you really are to her.

You’re just a junior. A label-mandated mentorship. A pretty face. A pretty voice with uncertain eyes and too many questions. That’s all this is. That’s all it’s supposed to be.

Then why can’t she forget the way your eyes avoided hers in the hallway? Why does she feel like she’s holding her breath every time she’s near you? Why does her hand still feel warm where yours grazed it? Why does she feel like she’s standing at the edge of something she doesn’t have the language for?

She reaches the entrance to the main arena, where light and noise spill out like a tidal wave. Sophia catches her eye from a few rows ahead and waves her down. Megan shifts aside, leaving a seat open like she knew Daniela would take too long.

“You good?” Megan’s voice cuts clean through her spiralling thoughts.

Daniela blinks. Her pulse is still racing. Her thoughts still flicker, like a faulty reel looping in her head: your flushed cheeks, the tremble in your laugh, the brush of your hand against hers like it meant something.

They’re in their seats now. Somehow. The lights have dimmed. The crowd is buzzing louder than ever. She slides into her seat, but her body doesn’t settle. Her mind keeps flickering; your flushed face, the slight tremble in your laugh, the tension humming between you like an open circuit.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” she replies, a little too fast.

Megan side-eyes her but says nothing. Instead, she leans forward, nudging Daniela’s arm and tilting her chin toward the stage.

“They’re up next. You might want to focus now,” Megan says, a smirk tugging at her mouth. “Your favorite group’s up next.”

Daniela blinks. Focuses. Looks up.

And then the screen flickers, dissolving into glitchy oceanic blues. A siren’s wail cuts through the air. The crowd roars.

The stage lights flare to life.

And there you are, front and center, clad in jet black, sharp edges and smoky eyes, the siren persona wrapped around you like a second skin. You were the only one in tailored black, sharp lines, low neckline, silver chains glinting under the lights. Masculine. Seductive. Powerful.

The rest of SIREN5: Amara, Hana, Rina, Cami, are radiant in flowing silhouettes, ruffled cloths mimicking waves and so effortlessly fierce. A beautiful contrast to your darkness. The visual says something. She doesn't know what. Only that she can’t stop staring.

And then you move. You all do.

And it’s like the floor drops.

Everything else falls away.

Because you’re not stuttering now. You’re not fumbling or flushing or laughing nervously. You’re now the vision of lethal confidence. 

And Daniela is absolutely, completely ruined before you even started.

The siren wails slowly dissolves into chants. Latin lyrics layered over swelling strings and low synths. The lights dim even more, the select lights shining down on the five of you which created an ethereal glow. Spotlights strike the stage in clean, harsh beams. The five of you emerge like ghosts, silhouettes hidden in the glow. The formation is new. Different. Sharper. She should’ve expected it; KATSEYE stopped attending rehearsals a week ago. Still, the shift feels like something tectonic. Once the spotlight hits your silhouettes, you’re suddenly hidden, like a shadow. The chants grew louder.

“Pray for me now Pray for me now (Dies irae) Pray for me now (Illa) Pray for me now (Vos solve in) Pray for me now (Favilla) Pray for me now (Maledictus) Pray for me now (Erus) Pray for me now (In flamas) Pray for me now (Eternum)”

[Rough Translation: the day of wrath is when you shall be dissolved into ashes, cursed into eternal flames]

Then Hana’s voice cleaves through the chant: sharp, crystalline, violent in its clarity.

“I'll be your idol”

You burst through the four of them like the moon eclipsing the sun, your lips were now opened as the mic picks up your voice, clear and commanding. Your hands are both on Cami and Amara’s shoulders, their bodies bending as you step through them.

“Keeping you in check,  keeping you obsessed  Play me on repeat,  kkeuteopsi in your head”

[Translation: Endlessly]

Daniela swore she felt her spine stiffen, goosebumps rising like a tide, as you sang the very first lyrics. The crowd roared as you smiled charmingly while singing, your body went through the choreography with predatory ease, snapping to the beat, twisting, drawing all eyes toward you. Daniela’s included. Especially hers.

Your hand lifted to tap a finger to your temple, same as the lyrics and she could swear that your eyes found her own before moving away before the next lyrics leave your sin stained lips. 

Her heart stutters.

She could barely hear the harmonies that Rina was layering onto your voice. Because she could swear that that moment of eye contact made her feel something. She doesn't know what it is; anger, desire, maybe confusion. Something clutches at her chest and won’t let go. She feels warm all over. She shouldn’t feel warm at all. And then you look away like nothing happened.

The next beat hits.

“Anytime it hurts,  play another verse I can be your sanctuary”

Fuck. She’s heard this song before. Too many times. On studio speakers. Through demo snippets, playing over half-finished edits and muffled practice room walls. But not like this.

Not when every word feels like it’s being sung at her. For her.

She never paid attention to what the lyrics were before. Now she suddenly feels the lyrics bury deep into her soul. It was as if the words took on a different meaning now that she forced herself not to cross the line she wasn’t sure was there in the first place. Especially now that she’s guilty of repeating a verse, her own verse, yet in your voice, over and over again until it hurts. Until it burns.

“Know I'm the only one right now I will love you more when it all burns down”

Her eyes flick to Hana: poised, deadly. Her voice, a slow storm, smooth and intimate. She commands the center like it belongs to her, and maybe it does. But it’s fleeting.

“More than power, more than gold”

Rina slinks behind Hana, looping arms around Hana’s neck with ease. Their movements mirror each other, Rina’s hands mimicking a heartbeat against Hana’s chest, then tracing a circle around her head like a halo warped into a crown.

“Yeah, you gave me your heart, now I'm hеre for your soul”

Cami then steals the spotlight as she places herself in front of Hana, her voice was hauntingly seductive and deliciously low. She stretches out her hand, fingers spreading wide before curling inward in a slow, beckoning motion, like a spell cast midair.

Daniela could swear that she heard Megan’s voice crack as she screamed at that part.

“I'm the only one who'll lovе your sins Feel the way my voice gets underneath your skin”

And then Daniela’s breath hitched as your voice filled her ears, richer now, dripping with intensity, and Daniela’s stomach dropped. You’re at the center again. Of the stage. Of the sound. Of her attention. Dani found herself thinking, debating if you truly wrote this song before she met you or after, because she has this sinking feeling that it was about her.

“Listen 'cause I'm preachin' to the choir Can I get the mic' a little higher? Gimme your desire I can be the star you rely on”

From her position in the crowd, she could hear the thunder like noise your shoes made when you all jumped at the beginning of the chorus. She can’t help but notice that she didn’t hear a difference in sound; it was as if it were one person who jumped and not five. There was absolutely no delay from the time your feet left the stage to the time it landed again. It’s seamless. Terrifyingly precise. No wobble in the vocals. No stagger in the breath. Daniela stares in disbelief. She can’t help but doubt if you were truly singing in the first place.

“Nae hwanghol-ui chwihae, you can't look away  Don't you know I'm here to save you Now we runnin' wild Yeah, I'm all you need, I'ma be your idol”

[translation: you’re lost in my daze]

Hana’s voice took charge this time, the second part of the chorus giving an evident sign that an interlude was about to come. Her eyes drifted to you. From her perspective, she could see the beads of sweat trickling down your face, yet your lips held a permanent smile even when your vocals only add one layer to the hauntingly beautiful harmonizing you all did in the chorus, which by the way in next to impossible to do while dancing.

The dance break crashes down like a prophecy fulfilled.

“Unh! bichi naneun fame, gyesok oechyeo, I'm your idol Thank you for the pain 'cause it got me going viral Uh, yeah, natji anneun fever, makin' you a believer Nareul wae neon jonjaehaneun aidol”

[translation: Shining with my fame, keep on shouting my name, endless is my fever, I was born for you, only your idol]

Amara’s voice was intense, perhaps slightly cold yet it was fluid and sharp. Daniela could still understand the words clearly despite Amara rapping it. She swore she could hear Lara shouting about a british accent yet she drowned it all out, her eyes were trained to you moving like a never ending machine along with the rest of your group, moving like waves crashing into the hull of a creaking ship. The tell tale signs of pending wreckage.

Then

“Don't let it show, keep it all inside The pain and the shame, keep it outta sight”

Cami.

“Your obsession feeds our connection I sungan give me all your attention”

[translation: So right now]

You.

“You know I'm the only one who'll love your sins Feel the way my voice gets underneath your skin”

Hana. 

Then all five of you, unified, harmonized, fused like a single organism

“Listen 'cause I'm preachin' to the choir Can I get the mic a little higher? Gimme your desire I can be the star you rely on (You rely on)”

Daniela’s body is still. Her throat dry. Her heartbeat stutters with each line. Her ears ring with the loud noise of the fans screaming.

“Nae hwanghol-ui chwihae, you can't look away Don't you know I'm here to save you Now we runnin' wild Yeah, I'm all you need, I'ma be your idol”

Hana was singing, she thinks. But everything was beginning to blur, as if she’s being pulled into a trance.

“Be your idol”

It was then that the girls heard it, there was a beat of silence, yet the music was still on going. It was short enough to not be damaging to the performance yet it was long enough to prove that there was absolutely no backtrack used, just an instrumental playing in the background. Nothing was faked. The absence is proof.

And then it happened. The floorwork comes like a strike of lightning. All five of you lower, spines curling like fog, arching sensually, fingers splayed across the floor. Your movements are fluid and visceral, nothing soft about it. It’s devotion and destruction. Your vocals overlapped each other with terrifying ease as you sang the bridge. The bridge is a siren’s call: delicate and violent.

“Living in your mind now Too late 'cause you're mine now I will make you free When you're all part of me”

Then you. You take the final chorus, voice breaking into a raw, unfiltered cry

"(Listen 'cause I'm) Preaching to the choir (Now) Can I get the mic a little higher?"

Daniela’s jaw drop as you belted out that line, her breath hitched as you ad-libbed right then and there, It’s not clean. It’s raw, live, unfiltered. And it’s perfect.

Cami carries the melody:

“Gimme your desire Watch me set your world on fire”

Amara closes in once again:

“Nae hwanghol-ui chwihae, you can't look away (Hey) No one is coming to save you Now we runnin' wild”

Then all of you, the final lines crashing down like thunder:

“You're down on your knees, I'ma be your idol”

Daniela doesn’t breathe.

Because when you kneel, right in front of her, sweat-soaked and shining, lips parted, chest heaving, your eyes meet hers.

And Daniela’s world tilts.

She swears her heart skips, she swears the air leaves her lungs.

You’re kneeling right in front of her like some kind of twisted devotion. Like she’s the altar. The storm. The sin.

And you?

You’re the sacrifice.

You’re the storm.

You’re the sin.

And god help her- 

You look delicious.

She’s still looking at you.

Even with the stage lights stinging your eyes and the bass of the final note still thrumming in your chest, Daniela is still looking at you.

You’re still on your knees, your palm planted against the stage floor, strands of hair clinging to your cheek. You don’t dare move. You’re frozen, breathless, kneeling at center stage like a confession you never meant to make. The crowd roars, thousands of voices crashing like waves, but all you hear is the silence between your pulse and the way her stare makes your skin feel too tight.

Your name must be on her tongue. You can feel it. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

A beat passes.

Then another.

And like a thunderclap, the crowd erupts.

The lights fade just enough to remind you you’re not alone, that you’re not dreaming, that this isn’t some delusional daydream you’ve conjured in a midnight haze. Hana’s hand finds yours first, warm and grounding. Cami’s voice shouts something behind you, probably a curse or a cheer, it’s hard to tell with the adrenaline still screaming through your veins. And finally, the five of you fall into a practiced bow, the same one you rehearsed a thousand times, heads low, hearts high.

It takes everything in you not to glance at her again.

When you rise again, Hana’s already stepping forward, clear-voiced and composed as ever.

“Annyeonghaseyo!” Hana’s voice slices through the air, confident and steady. “SIREN5-imnida! Thank you for welcoming us tonight!”

The cheers grow louder, especially from the Korean fans who recognize their native tongue. A few banners with her name glitter in the crowd.

“¡Buenas noches, mi amores!” Cami winks into the camera with a sultry grin, her voice warm and rolling like a flamenco beat. “Muchísimas gracias por todo el cariño. ¡Los amamos!”

(translation: Good Evening, my loves. Thank you so much for all the love. We love you!)

The Spanish-speaking part of the audience goes wild; flags wave, phones shoot skyward, fans scream her name like they’re chanting a spell.

And then it’s your turn.

You inhale once. Then again. You swallow, chest still trembling. There’s a hush that falls in your heart, just long enough for courage to take its place.

You step forward into the light, lips parting, and in the softest yet clearest tone you can muster, you say:

“Magandang gabi po sa inyong lahat. Ako po si SYRE, at sobrang thankful ako sa mainit ninyong pagtanggap sa amin. Mahal ko po kayo.”

(translation: Good Evening to all of you, My name is SYRE and I am so thankful for the warm welcome you gave us. I love you all.)

Your voice wobbles at the end, but the crowd doesn’t care. You hear your name shrieked from the front row. A few “Mahal din kita!”s are shouted back with so much affection, your eyes sting. And then you laugh because you heard a single screeching voice shout: “TANGINA MO MAHAL NA MAHAL DEN KITAAAAA” You laughed harder when Sophia snaps her head to the origin of the sound with furrowed brows and a flabbergasted look on her face.

You don't have time to recover. Amara slips in beside you like liquid silver, bumping your shoulder affectionately as she steps forward.

“Evening, babes,” she beams, her accent curling warmly around the words. “We’re SIREN5, and we’re absolutely buzzin’ to be here. Hope you’ve been enjoying the show.”

The crowd hollers. Someone yells, “I LOVE YOUR ACCENT!” and Amara chuckles under her breath.

And finally, like a soft, unexpected breeze, Rina steps forward. She’s silent for a second, gaze sweeping the crowd like she’s memorizing it.

“こんばんは,” she says gently. “SIREN5です。応援してくれて本当にありがとうございます。”

(Good evening. We are SIREN5. Thank you so much for supporting us.)

A ripple of polite, emotional cheers spreads across the audience, the kind that speaks volumes without needing to scream.

And just like that, the five of you stand in a line, united, shining, trembling just a little bit under the weight of your dreams finally blooming into reality.

But as the lights shift and the music cues for your exit, you risk one final glance into the crowd.

She’s still watching you.

But this time, there’s something different in her eyes.

And this time, you don’t look away.

Even as you follow your members toward the wings, feet moving on instinct, your head turns, just one more glance, you tell yourself. One more look at her.

You’re still watching her. And she’s still watching you.

Which is probably why you miss the last step.

Your foot catches on the edge of the makeshift metal stairs leading offstage, a barely-there lip of cold aluminium that sends your balance tipping just a fraction too far. You let out a small, startled sound, a breath of panic catching in your throat as your sneaker slips, and suddenly you’re stumbling forward, arms pinwheeling for balance. Your ankle twists sideways, the metal edge of the stair scraping against your boot as you lurch forward and slam straight into Amara’s back.

She nearly faceplants but she catches herself just in time. “Oi! Bloody-Darlin'?! What the hell? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” you gasp, stumbling upright, one hand gripping her shoulder. “I…I just…”

But it’s too late. The damage is done.

Rina, already at the bottom, whips around with wide eyes. “Did you just fall?!”

“Almost fall,” you mutter, face heating.

Hana spins dramatically, her mic turned off but her voice deadly clear. “Did someone forget how stairs work?”

Cami’s grin could power a city. “Oh my god. Is she still looking at Daniela?” she whisper-yells like it’s some secret revelation. “She is! I knew it! You tripped because you were too busy making heart eyes!”

“I wasn’t-!” you start, but you’re drowned out by the explosion of teasing that follows.

“SYRE, please, we’re in public,” Amara groans dramatically. “At least wait until we’re backstage to publicly collapse over your crush.”

“She’s gonna trend as ‘Clumsy Siren,’” Rina giggles. “#FellForHerLiterally.”

“Can’t believe our first major performance and this is what you get remembered for.” Cami gasps between laughs.

You bury your face in your hands as the crowd’s cheers continue behind you. You’re never going to live this down. Never. You can already imagine the fancams, the slowed replays, the edits with sparkles and hearts-

And then, against your better judgment, you peek back.

She’s still there.

Still watching.

And this time, she’s laughing.

Not mockingly. Not cruel. Just soft and stunned, one hand covering her mouth, her eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine amusement.

You stare, completely frozen for a beat too long.

Then Cami slings an arm over your shoulder. “You’re so gone,” she whispers. “It’s actually embarrassing.”

You groan. “Shut up.”

“SYRE,” Hana deadpans, “next time just propose. It’ll hurt less.”

 You try to laugh. Really, you do. But instead, the words slip out quieter than you expect.

“But she’s straight.”

The teasing dies instantly.

Cami’s arm loosens around your shoulders. Amara’s brows furrow, and Hana’s gaze flickers to your face, her expression softening.

You don’t say anything else. You don’t have to. The words hang heavy between you all: awkward, raw, honest in a way that makes you want to disappear into the floor.

Because what do you even do with a moment like that?

When someone looks at you like that. Watches you like they’re trying to find answers you don’t know how to give. When the world pauses just long enough for you to believe, maybe.

And then it keeps going. The lights dim, the crowd screams, the next group gets ready. And you’re left standing at the edge of it, fingers trembling, unsure whether what happened was real, or just a projection of your stupid, lonely heart.

The silence in the dressing room echoes loud in your ears once you’re back. The door shuts behind you with a soft click, and for a moment it’s just the five of you, breathing in the high of your first live performance, except you feel like you’re a beat behind everyone else.

No one says anything. No one pushes. But they’re watching you.

You blink hard and paste on a smile, heading toward your makeup station like you're fine. Like you’re not two seconds away from spiraling over a fleeting look and a stupid slip on a stair.

Then-

“OH MY GOD, I LOVE YOU!”

Lara’s voice pierces through the room like a siren’s wail, followed by the thunder of the dressing room door slamming open.

You barely manage to turn when the sound of shrieking laughter and stomping boots floods in.

“THAT WAS INSANE!” Manon yells, diving forward like she’s about to tackle someone.

Behind them, Megan and Yoonchae laugh breathlessly, trying to keep up as Sophia glides in like she wasn’t just part of a stampede, all elegance and glowing pride.

And behind her-

Daniela.

You freeze.

Your stomach flips.

She's slower to enter than the others, one hand still holding her phone loosely, curls a little frizzed from the chaos, her sharp gaze immediately scanning the room, landing on you like it always does.

There’s a flicker in her expression. Something unreadable. But she doesn’t look away.

Your heart does something awful in your chest.

Because you're still reeling. Because you’re not ready. Because you’re suddenly very aware that she’s not yours, and maybe never will be.

But then Lara’s voice cuts through the moment again.

“Cami, I swear to GOD, did you just wink at my camera during the bridge?!”

Cami snorts. “I winked at the crowd, thank you very much. The camera just happened to be there.”

And just like that, the chaos is back. The noise floods in. SIREN5 and KATSEYE blend into a whirlwind of laughter, post-show adrenaline, and overlapping voices, pulling you away from the pity spiral and back into the world.

But even as you try to focus on Amara offering Manon a cookie or Megan asking Cami about the choreo, you can feel it.

Her eyes.

Still on you.

You’re packing up.

Still on you.

The adrenaline is fading now, traded for the ache in your legs and the slow unravelling of the high. Rina’s still giggling over something Lara said. Hana’s focused on organizing your discarded mic packs with militant precision. Amara’s curled up on a beanbag someone dragged in from God-knows-where, munching on post-performance fruit like you didn’t all just give your souls onstage.

It’s easy to pretend everything is normal.

Especially with KATSEYE now blended into your space like they’ve always belonged there; Megan talking choreography with Cami, Yoonchae laughing at something Hana said in half-Korean, half-English, and Manon currently trying on one of Amara’s spare boots just to see if it fits.

Daniela lingers near the doorway. She’s chatting with Lara, a lazy smile on her lips, posture relaxed, but every so often you catch her eyes flicking toward you.

And each time, you act like you didn’t notice.

You keep your hands busy; zipping makeup kits shut, folding the custom jackets you and the girls wore for the encore, smoothing the creases out of Amara’s ridiculous feathered gloves. Anything to look preoccupied. Anything to make sure she sees you being fine. Normal. Harmless.

Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned from your last mistake, it’s that fans notice everything.

And KATSEYE might be here now, laughing with your members, treating you like equals, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the world has forgotten the way you looked at her.

Or the way she looked back.

So you make a decision. Quietly. Just for yourself.

You’ll perform.

Not on stage, not for the cameras.

For her. Around her.

You’ll wear the crush on your sleeve again like it’s a silly, innocent thing. Like you’re just a fan who lucked her way into idolhood. Just a girl with heart eyes for her sunbae. You’ll blush at the right moments, flinch when she’s too close, smile a little too wide when she teases. You’ll act like it’s not real. Like you aren’t completely, fully, terrifyingly in love with her.

Not because you’ve fallen out of it.

God, no.

In fact, pretending just makes it worse.

Because now that you’ve seen how she looks at you; how her eyes soften like she’s seeing something fragile, now you’re falling harder. Faster. And it’s a different kind of scary.

But she’s not yours. She never was. And if she’s straight, like you believe she is, then it doesn’t matter how she looks at you.

You won’t be the reason she’s uncomfortable.

You won’t make her responsible for feelings she never asked for.

So you’ll give her a version of you she can laugh with, lean on, maybe even adore in her own way, as long as it’s safe. As long as it doesn’t ask for anything more.

It’s a performance.

A well-rehearsed one. A survival instinct dressed up as charm.

And you know it’s working because when you toss Daniela a grin; teasing, bright, a little flustered, she blinks like she wasn’t expecting it. Like it lands wrong.

You retreat just fast enough to make it seem like nothing.

But she watches you again.

Different this time.

Like she’s trying to read through the performance.

She doesn’t say anything. Of course she doesn’t. But something about her expression shifts, a slight narrowing of her eyes, a quiet pinch of confusion, a question that never quite makes it to her lips.

You duck your head and pretend not to see it.

If you let yourself look too long, if you let yourself hope even for a second, you know the mask will crack. And you can’t afford that.

So you smile at Cami instead. You nudge Amara and tease her about hogging the snacks. You laugh when Lara tries to make Rina wear glittery sunglasses and you dance around Sophia when she asks for a selfie with everyone.

And when Daniela walks past you again, shoulder grazing yours; soft, fleeting, electric, you don’t flinch. You don’t lean in. You don’t react.

You just keep performing.

You walk out of the dressing room and into the buzz of the hallway where crew members pack up cables, roll out cases, and call out over radios. You just keep walking, even as something inside you splinters a little deeper.

You just have to keep going even as something inside you breaks.

The night had cooled, but your skin was still buzzing from the performance. You walked in a loose group towards the back entrance, the kind only staff and artists know about, laughter echoing between both teams as stylists, managers, and a few security members trailed behind. KATSEYE and SIREN5 together, a rare sight. A little chaotic. A little surreal. You were still high off the adrenaline, your boots thudding softly beside Daniela’s steps. 

You didn’t mean to end up beside her again.

Close enough to breathe the faint sweetness of her perfume. Far enough to pretend you don’t notice.

You think you’re doing fine. You think you're keeping it together.

Then Daniela tilts her head, laughing at something Cami says in their native language, low and warm and easy, and your eyes flick away too fast. Your heart catches like a frayed wire. You flex your fingers at your side, grounding yourself.

Just until the vans. Just hold it in a little longer.

But the moment of peace shattered like glass.

You don’t realize something’s wrong until it’s too late.

The noise comes first, a low buzz, then rising shouts. Screams. The sound of people running. Your head whips up just in time to see a sea of fans and paparazzi breach the perimeter like a tidal wave, spilling into the pathway, their feet thundering against the pavement.

Cameras flash. Voices cry out. Dozens of hands shoot out with phones, pens, posters, and hastily scribbled letters.

For a second, everyone freezes.

Then instinct kicked in.

Some of the girls instinctively smile, quickly falling back into routine, signing whatever’s nearest. Lara autographs a phone case. Sophia gives a nervous wave. Cami throws her head back and laughs when someone hands her a condom packet; signs it anyway with a cheeky wink. Megan tried to help Lara pose with a fan. You found yourself signing someone's phone case, pen slipping slightly in your sweaty grip.

But it was too many. Too fast. Too loud. The bodies are closer. Rougher. The air was tighter. Sharper.

Someone yanked your sleeve. You jerked back. Someone else grabbed Amara’s wrist. Another fan reaches past you to touch Cami’s shoulder. 

And then you hear it.

A small sound, barely audible, but it slices through everything.

Yoonchae let out a soft yelp, you heard it. You felt it. You glance over and see Yoonchae’s wide eyes and trembling hands, frozen in place as the crowd presses in.

Your stomach twists.

She looked like she was about to cry.

Rina reaches for her but the crowd is pushing harder now, too fast, too much.

“Move,” you said calmly, raising a hand. “Please move aside.”

The crowd didn’t budge.

“Let us through.” Amara snapped, tone cold and clipped. Her arm hooked around Rina and Yoonchae, shielding the two youngest as she started forcing a path forward, pulling them toward the vans now parked ahead, lights on and doors thrown open by staff finally catching up.

Your heart spiked, protective instinct kicking in. You looked around. Cami was boxed in on the left, a fan with a camera dangerously close to her face. Daniela was further back, blinking against the flashing lights, looking just as disoriented.

You don’t think. You just act. 

You push through the bodies, voice sharp as a whip now. “Move!”

You weren’t polite.

You push forward, muscle memory kicking in. You reach Cami first, arms slipping under her with ease. She lets out a startled laugh, gripping your shoulder.

“SYRE?!”

“Hold on, tightly.”

You don’t wait for her response. You twist, eyes locking on Daniela.

She doesn’t protest. Just stares, wide-eyed, as you pull her up into your arms. She’s warm. She’s soft. Her perfume wrapped around you, dizzying even in the chaos. She curls into you without hesitation, face pressing into your neck like instinct.

You adjust them both in your grip like they weigh nothing.

You don’t stop moving.

You bulldozed your way through the mob, cradling them both like they were made of glass. Like the world had no right to touch them. Your feet move on autopilot, muscles taut, teeth gritted, ignoring gasps and shouts. Protectiveness crackles through your veins. You don’t care about the pictures being taken. You don’t care how insane this looks.

Not a single hand touches them.

You care about them. You care too damn much. Maybe one more than the other.

The cameras kept flashing. Voices followed. The crowd roared louder as more staff rushed forward, finally forcing people back.

You didn’t stop until the van door was yanked open by a breathless manager. Amara had already shoved Yoonchae and Rina inside. You followed suit, still holding Daniela and Cami until your knees hit the floor of the van and finally, finally, you let go.

The door slammed shut behind you. All the girls already in the van: safe, breathless, and a little shaken.

Silence.

The dim interior buzzed only with your heavy breaths. The girls looked at you; Daniela wide-eyed, Cami half-laughing, still recovering from shock. Your hands were shaking.

Cami breaks it first, brushing sweat-damp hair from her forehead. “Holy shit.” she breathes. Then smirks. “You’re built like a tank.”

You manage a small smile. “You good?”

“Never been better.”

You turn to Daniela.

She blinks at you, eyes still full of stunned disbelief. “Yeah,” she says softly. “Thank you.” Her voice catches slightly on the words. You pretend not to notice.

But something in you still aches.

Because your arms remember the way she felt. Because even now, shaking, breathless, your first instinct is still to look at her, to make sure she’s okay.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

Even when you’re running on instinct… It's her.

You lean your head back, trying to calm your pulse. But your mind won’t settle. Not when she’s sitting across from you. Not when her scent still clings to your jacket. Not when your chest still tightens at the thought of losing grip.

You’re in love with her.

Hopelessly. Quietly. Completely.

And you know it’s one-sided.

So you do what you do best.

You perform.

Daniela reaches out, hand brushing yours on instinct.

You pull away too quickly.

Then smile, hiding the sting. “Well. That’s one way to impress the ladies, huh?”

Cami barks a laugh, playful. “Impress? Babe, you bridal-carried us. Both of us. I’m buying you a ring tomorrow, and I’m playing Hermanas de leche at our wedding.”

Laughter erupts. Even Daniela giggles, though her smile flickers, faint, distant.

You see it.

And she sees something too. But neither of you say anything.

You lean your head back against the wall again, eyes fluttering shut.

No laughter this time. Just the hum of tires and the sting of truth. Something bloomed too far, too fast, and now has nowhere to go.

Then-

“OH MY GOD WHO TURNED THE HEAT ON-”

“CAMI’S SWEAT IS TOUCHING ME I’M CALLING THE POLICE-”

Lara’s shriek from the back cuts through the tension like a slapstick dream. Manon shouts something unintelligible. Megan and Sophia are yelling over them, and Yoonchae tries to climb into Amara’s lap to escape the chaos.

You blink, startled, then laugh, really laugh.

Because that’s how it always goes, doesn’t it?

You bury it.

Smile through it.

And keep walking beside her like your heart isn’t breaking just a little more every time.

Ngingiti ka nalang araw-araw, mananatili ka nalang sa tabi nya na tila multo habang tahimik na nagmamakaawang makakuha kahit katiting man lang ng pag-ibig nya. Dahil alam mo sa sarili mo, na mamahalin mo sya sa bawat saglit, kahit di nya alam.

(You resigned yourself to smiling everyday, you'll stay by her side like a ghost that silently begs for even just a little piece of her love. Because you know in yourself that you'll love her in every moment, even if she never knows.)

“i just don’t get why fans are shipping them!” rumi shouted in frustration as she delivered a strong kick to the face of the demon. “they sit next to each other at one event to follow the seating chart, and all of a sudden, they’re the next kpop ‘it’ couple— what’s the logic behind that?!”

“okay, but are fans really shipping them together, or did you just see someone on twitter say they would look cute together? there’s a difference.”

“no, like people are really shipping them together! they have an official ship name and everything— there’s like a thousand edits of them to love songs on tiktok and like… a couple dozen fics of them on ao3…”

“god damn it!”

perhaps having this discussion while fighting underworld creatures wasn’t the best idea, being both the wrong time and place, but the vocalist needed to get this off her chest once she found out about it. it was so preposterous and wrong in her mind that she had to do a triple take before it really sunk in what she was reading. 

it’s been exactly one week since that day when you met the black-haired leader of the saja boys at an event, only interacting because you both were following the seating charts and happened to be placed next to each other. there was nothing special or different about it compared to when you’re talking to other celebrities, yet in some way that she couldn’t even fathom, people started thinking that both of you would make the cutest pairing. 

she was at the event as well, but couldn’t quite see what the two of you were up to from a distance aside from being friendly. when the footage came out in a better quality than her eyesight, she rewatched the footage over and over again, watching like a hawk at all the little microexpressions and doing her best to read your lips to figure out where this assumed chemistry originated from, but she came to the conclusion that it just doesn’t exist and that the fans were being straight up delusional.

that man has been the bane of her existence in every way possible ever since he entered her life. first he tries to steal her fans with his industry plant boy group, then he tries to blackmail her with her biggest secret, and now he’s trying to steal away her girlfriend! she brings up the topic incessantly every time they have their secret meetings, and no matter what he swears or how often he plays innocent, she doesn’t believe for a second that he doesn’t also have feelings for you. it’s all in the little things, how he stutters and blushes red at the mention of you and how fans thought you two were the cutest— god, she hates him!

“you do realize that people think you’re jealous of her and not him, right? they noticed you staring at them the entire time the awards were being given out and think you’re all in some sort of love triangle.”

“why would they even think that? i don’t even like jinu on a base level! he’s a demon who’s clearly trying to take advantage of our unsuspecting fans— how do people think that i’m into him instead of her?! i thought it was obvious i liked girls— my instagram profile picture literally shows me wearing eyeliner in the colors of the bi flag!”

“either way, you can’t really change what the fans think. don’t let it get to you too much, she would never pick him over you.”

mira was right. you can’t be stolen away when you didn’t have an ounce of romantic interest in him and had your heart set on her, but she still can’t help but fume like a steaming kettle every time she goes on her phone to find her entire ‘for you’ page covered photos (both real and edited) of that stupid demon next to her girlfriend with hearts in the captions. 

the worst part is that you didn’t have the foggiest idea what was going on. as one of the most well-known soloists in the hemisphere, you preferred to stay away from social media and possible hate comments or crazy fans that would impact your mental health. your management took care of your social media and promotions as well as informing you about public perception, so you were fortunate enough to be able to focus on yourself, your songwriting, practicing choreography, and spending time with rumi. 

rumi, who has been acting a little strange over the past few days. she thought you wouldn’t have noticed because you were busy with the debut of a new single, but you certainly did and was confused about her sudden change in behavior. she’s more clingy and possessive, yet refuses to admit that there was something bothering her. mira and zoey also wouldn’t tell you anything, but judging by their hesitance, you suspected that she had told them not to say anything either.

with the lack of mutual friends who knew about your very private relationship, you somehow ended up meeting with jinu for coffee. you aren’t exactly sure if she let it slip to him or if he managed to figure it out on his own, but either way, he knew about it and offered an outsider's perspective on what you could do about the situation. 

little did you know, even though you both were wearing sunglasses and hoodies, there was someone who recognized you and snapped a candid photo of you two entering the cafe together. it’s only a casual outing between friends without a hint of anything romantic to get advice for your actual relationship, people took the picture and ran with it, coming up with their outlandish speculations of it being a date and believing that your latest song about finding true love was dedicated to him. 

that was the final straw for rumi, and she soon hatched a plan on how to hard-launch your relationship in a way that left no room for interpretation. there wasn’t going to be any ‘close friends’ or ‘sisters’ theories with this, they were going to know. normally, she prefers to keep these things private, but she refused to have fans misled about who you were really linked to.

“are you sure this is a good idea? it’s gonna put everyone in a frenzy.”

“right? like this is gonna be in the history books!”

“i’m sure, it’s gonna be perfect.”

this plan was bold and possibly a bit irrational, but she knew it would work out perfectly in the end. it didn’t take too long to think of, all it needed was a single action and a ton of confidence, and the perfect setting to execute it was at one of the up-and-coming annual award ceremonies for the best musicians in the nation where you were going to be announcing the winners and nominees.

she was more nervous about this secret plan than anything, evident in how she was constantly fiddling with the hem of her dress and how her posture wasn’t as completely straight as it usually was. it made the usual jitters from all the flashing cameras and mini-interviews by photographers seem like child’s play, so she was very grateful towards mira and zoey for letting her lean on them. 

out of the corner of her eye, she could see you socializing with the others in a gorgeous satin midi dress, being absolutely dazzling with that smile of yours that attracted everyone to you like bees to honey. everyone including those damn saja boys, particularly jinu who had all the cameras flashing blindingly whenever he got too close to you. the sight made her bite the inside of her cheek and pout, but she wouldn’t let it bother her even though the thought of it was pissing her off during the entire duration of the event. she’s going to keep her cool this time, and no one would be able to study her reactions and make assumptions about what she was thinking when the live recording is eventually uploaded. 

“and this year’s winner for ‘artist of the year’ goes to…” you paused dramatically for special effect, opening the golden envelope to peek inside. there wasn’t a doubt in your mind who it would be, and you couldn’t help the feeling of pride that bloomed in your heart, “rumi, zoey, and mira of huntrix!”

the crowd let out a round of applause as the trio joined you on the stage, zoey doing a little skip and dance to she received the award before doing their touching minute-long speech of a lot of thanks and gratitude to their fans and those who have helped them along the way.

as rumi stepped away from the center, she took a deep breath, and instead of stepping off like she was supposed to, she pulled you in for a kiss on the lips before drawing in close to use the microphone attached to your headset, “she’s my girlfriend, by the way!” 

a simple statement and a kiss, nothing too passionate, just something small and tender, but the entire audience gasped in surprise before erupting in chaos (the good kind of chaos, the one with cheering and people screaming various things in support). 

you were clearly confused and laughed, “of course, i am, who else’s girlfriend would i be?”

“you’re so chronically offline, i’ll tell you about it later.”

the news was like wildfire for the next few days while you both stayed away from the public eye to let it die down. most fans had jumped off the ship of you and jinu and were happily boarding the one of you and rumi, letting it sail at full speed and pouring in all of their support of your newly revealed relationship as you both quickly took the crown as kpop’s newest ‘it’ couple.

request:

May I PUHLEASE request a Jealous!Rumi x Fem!Soloist!Reader? The reader is a well-known soloist who somehow was being shipped with Jinu despite having absolutely no interaction with him at all. And of course, Rumi starts acting up, showing subtle hostility towards Jinu for another reason other than because he's a demon who clearly means harm upon their beloved fans. Mira and Zoey, along with their many fans starts to think that it was because she was jealous of the reader. But what they don't know is behind those empty stares lies hidden affection which they only lay bare when they're alone. They've been in a secret relationship for a few years now, and they've hidden it well. But after the rumors that started about the reader and Jinu where they were supposedly seen having a romantic date, and another rumor that stated that the reader's latest song was dedicated to Jinu, Rumi finally decided to take matters into her own hands. So during an awarding where idols were to gather on stage, after receiving their award, Rumi immediately marches up to the reader, and in front of everyone, she pulls her into a searing kiss then walks away like she hadn't just staked her claim and smudged the reader's perfectly applied lipstick. It ends with the reader jokingly and shyly apologizing with: "Forgive my girlfriend's behavior. It's her way of throwing a tantrum." (I apologize if this too damn long, I wanted it to be detailed for you🥲)

you’d gotten a haircut a few days ago—something sharper, something that framed your face so effortlessly it was almost unfair. it was the kind of change that ensured the girl crush label stuck to you permanently, as if it hadn’t already. and somehow, impossibly, it made you look even better—dare sophia say hotter—than before.

and safe to say, sophia wasn’t the only one who noticed. unfortunately.

the moment you turned to management and asked if you’d need a wig to hide your fresh cut from the eyekons before going live—like the other members had to in the newest tiktoks they were dishing out—their response was quick, casual—no need, you were free to show it off. gain more attention and eyes on the group before the comeback.

and that was all you needed to hear.

without a second thought, you propped your phone up on the table in your shared room with manon and daniela, fingers adjusting the angle with practiced ease, lips curling into a giddy smile. 

anticipation thrummed in your chest, an excited buzz settling beneath your skin as you ran a hand through your freshly cut hair, contemplating whether to hide it beneath a cap before settling to just tugging on the strings of your hoodie, tucking your hair out of sight from the camera.

the viewer count came rushing in the second you’d tapped ‘start live’, and your curious eyes peered at the camera, squinting to see what they’d been commenting about before shaking your head, a small chuckle of amusement spilling past your lips. 

user56 bro u look like an egg tf user1 humpty dumpty who?? user9 i think she pulls it off idk bout yall user0 ion care she can still get it even tho she looks like an idiot user2 i like them a little weird user89 GIRL TURN IT AWFFF

“i look like an egg like this? oh wow, that’s interesting. thank you.” you deadpanned, amusement flickering in your eyes as you read the comment aloud. a soft laugh slipped past your lips, shaking your head before tilting it slightly, as if assessing your reflection on the screen.

you kept the playful banter going for a few more minutes, responding to teasing messages with quick-witted remarks, occasionally tugging at the edge of your hood in mock offense. finally, you sighed, dramatic and drawn out, before giving in with a knowing hum. 

your fingers found the drawstring of your hoodie, twirling it lazily around one fingertip before tugging it loose. slowly, almost teasingly, you pushed the hood back, revealing the slightly poofy and mussed strands of your fresh haircut, the soft layers settling into place after being trapped beneath the fabric.

the moment your hair was freed, your hands instinctively shot up, smoothing over the mess, fingertips gently carding through the strands in an attempt to tame them. a small mirthful chuckle escaped you, a mix of amusement and mild exasperation at the way the hood had left your hair slightly disheveled. 

but even then, you still looked effortlessly good. and judging by the flood of excited comments rolling in, and eyekons definitely agreed.

"we vibing with it, chat?" you murmured, tilting your head slightly as your fingers absentmindedly combed through your hair, trying to smooth down the strands that had been ruffled by your hoodie. 

your lips pressed into a thin line, dissatisfaction creeping in as you examined your reflection on the screen, the messiness making your fresh cut look a little less put-together than you had intended.

"shouldn’t have actually hidden it away from you guys," you admitted with a soft sigh, shaking your head. "or it wouldn’t have been this messy."

your hands worked quickly, gently pushing some strands into place, but after a moment of struggling, you huffed in mild frustration. deciding to leave it as it was, you leaned forward, reaching for your glasses resting on the table. with practiced ease, you slid them on, blinking a few times as your vision sharpened.

"my bad, guys," you said, lips twitching into a sheepish smile as you settled back into place. "couldn’t be assed to put on my contacts."

user90 raw raw ah ah ah or wtv it was lady gaga said user56 okay guys fess up who tf took my pants user4 iSWEAR my pants were just on user77 and the crowd is… undressing themselves⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️ user78 omg girl dont play w me like that i might js make u mine user43 and FUCK whoever’s dating u bruh u look too good ima nut get OUTTTTTT user68 thank GOD my phone’s waterproof‼️‼️‼️ user70 TIL THE NEIGHBOURS LEARN HER NAME😭😭😭😭 user45 FLASH US

the chat exploded with reactions—some gushing over how good you looked, others teasing about your laziness, and more than a few keyboard smashes from people who were clearly losing their minds over the combination of the new haircut and glasses. 

you chuckled at the chaos, pushing your frames up the bridge of your nose before relaxing into the moment, letting the eyekons take it all in.

sophia who was watching just downstairs, however, wasn’t all that amused with the comments that flooded your live.

it was a jumpscare, truly. the moment sophia groggily unlocked her phone and opened tiktok, still blinking sleep from her eyes, she was met—ambushed, really—by an edit of your live from last night. the screen instantly flooded with clips of you, your freshly-cut hair falling effortlessly into place, set to the smooth, sultry beat of redbone by childish gambino.

typical, she thought dryly at the sound choice, but that didn’t stop the way her breath hitched slightly.

the light from her phone bathed her face in a bright glow, illuminating every tiny movement of her fingers as she instinctively scrolled down, her thumb hovering over the comment section before she could even think twice about it. she already knew what to expect, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

and sure enough, the comments were just as bad—if not worse—than the ones from last night. thirsting, keyboard smashes, people losing their goddamn minds over you. all of it blurred together in an overwhelming stream of admiration, and sophia could feel a familiar, unwelcome heat creeping up her neck.

because, god, of course everyone had to notice how good you looked. and of course, they wouldn’t shut up about it.

it didn’t help that the next few swipes on her for you page led to even more edits—clip after clip of your live from last night, set to sultry, slow-burning tracks that only seemed to emphasize just how good you looked. 

the way your freshly cut hair fell into place, the way your glasses slid down the bridge of your nose before you pushed them up absentmindedly, the way you’d smirked slightly at the camera without even meaning to—it was all there, replaying in high definition, edited to perfection, and worst of all, everywhere. god.

sophia groaned, flopping onto her back as she mindlessly scrolled, but she wasn’t about to just watch and let it slide. no, she was documenting this. saving receipts.

in less than an hour, she had added over fifty different edits of you into a private folder under your name, her fingers moving almost on autopilot. every new clip she found—save. another slow zoom-in on your face—save. a dramatic transition to the beat drop—definitely save.

by the time she was done, she was sure she had absolutely flooded the eyekons’ notifications, her name popping up repeatedly as she went on her little jealousy-infused saving spree.

but she didn’t care. not even a little.

because in her mind, this wasn’t just a collection—it was a statement. a quiet, possessive claim, a subtle way of reminding the eyekons exactly who you belonged to. every save, every tap of her screen, was her way of saying: watch all you want, but just know—she’s mine. and wait—no, no, no. jealousy is bad. an ugly feeling she shouldn’t be feeling. 

but the moment you’d walked into her shared room with yoonchae all mussed from sleep and seeking her out first thing in the morning, sliding into bed next to her, body molding onto hers and—to hell with it.

she’d decided to go live the next day out of pure boredom and cause chaos (unbidden flirting).

clad in an oversized black hoodie—one she had definitely swiped from your closet without asking—sophia lounged comfortably in front of the camera, the fabric swallowing her frame in a way that made it clear it was never hers to begin with. 

the sleeves fell just past her wrists, slightly bunched at her hands as she lazily adjusted the hem. paired with it was a black baseball cap, probably one of the few articles of clothing she actually owned, its curved brim casting a subtle shadow over her sharp features.

her free hand drifted to the waistband of the grey sweatpants she was wearing—another piece that was, without a doubt, stolen from your closet. with a quick tug, she adjusted the way they rested on her hips, ensuring they fit just right before letting her hand drop.

user44 GOOD GODDDDD user88 that hoodie looks rlyyyy familiar ms laforteza user51 SOPHIA LIVE OH GOD BLESS😭😭😭😭😭😭 user50 can u be my girlfriend for three seconds user41 BROOOOO I NEED U SO BAD SHUT UPPPP user32 how have u been sophia???

her lips curled into a small, satisfied smile as she glanced at the screen, watching the comments flood in—messages filled with excitement, teasing remarks about her outfit, and, of course, plenty of people calling her out for very obviously wearing your clothes again. she simply raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence as she leaned in slightly, skimming through the chaotic flood of words.

but she didn’t deny it. not once.

it wasn’t until halfway through the live that the shift in the comment section became impossible to ignore. at first, it had been the usual chaos—people gushing over her, teasing her about the hoodie, and thirsting over every little movement she made. but then, as if on cue, the flood of questions about you started rolling in.

user55 hey queen so whats the deal w y/n?? is she single perchance😌😌😌 user63 is y/n there w u??? user80 is y/n single?? asking for a friend nd research purposes🌚🌚 user66 blink twice if y/n is in the room

mixed in with those were the more audacious ones—the teasing, flirty messages that made sophia’s jaw clench ever so slightly.

user90 how does one marry y/n?? help a girl out pls user82 can i marry y/n??

“no, you can’t marry y/n.” she’d replied, her fingers, which had been lazily toying with the hem of her hoodie, stilled. she blinked at the screen once. twice.

narrowing her eyes, she hooked her fingers under her chin, tilting her head slightly as she peered at the comment section with squinted, unmistakably disapproving eyes. her lips pressed into a firm line, and for a moment, she just stared, letting the weight of her silence settle over the chat.

and if the eyekons watching had any sense at all, they’d know exactly what that look meant.

“what’s that about me?”

sophia’s eyes snapped up from the screen of the live the moment she caught movement from the doorway, her sharp, narrowed gaze instantly softening at the sight of you.

there you stood, bathed in the dim glow of the room, your expression puzzled as you tilted your head slightly, brows knitting together in mild confusion. dressed in baggy clothes—an oversized hoodie that hung loosely over your frame and sweatpants that pooled slightly at your ankles—you looked effortlessly comfortable, the kind of effortlessness that made sophia’s chest tighten just a little. 

your prescription glasses perched on the bridge of your nose, a clear sign that it was far too late in the night for you to bother with contacts. in one hand, you loosely gripped a bottle of water, your other hand absentmindedly brushing at your sleeve as your bare feet padded quietly against the floor, carrying you toward her without hesitation.

completely unaware.

unaware of the absolute chaos happening in her live chat. unaware of the thirsting, the borderline feral comments flooding in, the way the eyekons were already losing their minds over the mere mention of your name. and most of all, unaware of the way sophia was staring at you—conflicted.

because in that moment, she wasn’t sure what she wanted more—to selfishly keep you out of the frame, away from their prying eyes, or to let them see you, let them understand exactly why she looked at you the way she did.

but before she could make a decision, you made it for her.

with an easy step forward, you popped into the frame, completely oblivious to the digital uproar you had just caused, a sweet, sleepy smile tugging at your lips as you greeted the screen. 

"hi, eyekons," you murmured, voice thick with sleep, raspy in a way that sent an immediate shiver down sophia’s spine. "how’re we doin’ tonight? good?"

your words were slow, unhurried, tinged with the warmth of drowsiness as you blinked at the screen, adjusting your glasses with a lazy push of your knuckle against the frame. your lips curled into a small, satisfied smile as you nodded, as if genuinely pleased by the flood of chaotic responses rolling in.

user77 girl i cant do ts rn im ovulating bad user66 standing ovulation or wtv the saying is user62 heyyyy so lunch by billie eilish?? user79 MY DREAM RIDE😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻 user39 WHATT HEJVUKFMFK WHAT THEUCKVLVMK user50 CLEAN UP ON AISLE MY PANTS😭😭😭😭😭😭 user99 cldnt even edge to ts i exploded IMMEDIATELY😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 user34 the crowd would applaud but their hands are busy😭😭😭 user14 i swear my pants were JUST on

"i’m glad," you hummed, voice dipping even lower, softer—dangerous.

sophia didn’t stand a chance.

the moment the sound of your voice filled the room, she could feel the heat crawling up her neck, warm and betraying. without thinking, she subtly turned her face away from the camera, pretending to adjust her hoodie as she desperately tried to will away the blush creeping onto her cheeks.

but of course, you noticed.

your gaze flickered toward her, amusement dancing in your sleep-heavy eyes, and a quiet chuckle slipped past your lips—gentle, teasing.

"what’s with you?" you asked, voice lilting, but sophia refused to look at you, choosing instead to stare pointedly at her phone as if it could somehow save her from this situation.

it absolutely could not.

“nothing,” she tried to fib through her teeth. her face was half-hidden from the camera, but you knew her well enough to picture the exact shade of pink dusting her cheeks, the way she’d press her lips together in a tight line to keep from giving herself away. “don’t worry about it.”

a slow, knowing smile tugged at your lips, though you chose not to push any further—for now. instead, you shook your head in amusement, eyes twinkling as you took in the rare sight of sophia, who was normally so composed, absolutely crumbling before your eyes.

"someone’s suddenly a little camera shy," you mused, voice dipping into something teasing, playful.

sophia let out a quiet huff, still turned away, fingers absentmindedly tugging at the hem of the hoodie she’d stolen from you, as if focusing on that would somehow help her regain her composure.

and for a few minutes, she did just that—taking slow, measured breaths, schooling her features back into something neutral, forcing the heat in her cheeks to die down. when she finally popped back into frame, her expression was much steadier, though the faintest traces of pink still lingered on her skin.

thankfully, the purple lighting she’d chosen for the live worked in her favour, casting a soft glow that helped mask the last remnants of her flustered state. she busied herself with scrolling through the chat, acting as though nothing had happened, her posture relaxed, exuding an air of practiced nonchalance.

or, at least, she tried to.

because just as she started to settle back into her usual rhythm, her brows twitched—barely, but enough—as her ears picked up on something that immediately set her back on edge.

"oh, baby, you’re too sweet," you purred, your voice dripping with playful flirtation as you read a particularly bold comment from an eyekon. "but if you keep talking to me like that, i might just have to take you out on a date."

user51 MY TURN user23 A TEAR ROLLED DOWN MY LEG user89 OHMGYGOD IVOLUNTER ASTRIBYTE user62 RAWRAWRARAWRARWRAW user94 THISMADE BOTH OF MY LIPS SMILE user42 raw i meant AWWWWWW user82 this so made my hole weak I MEANT MY WHOLE WEEK user42 i am not cinderella but ik it fits user51 born to cowgirl, forced to fangirl💔💔💔💔💔 user41 i have nothing appropriate to say HER VOICE UGHHHHH user17 i finally got the water bed everyone wanted in 2016 user88 good now OIL UP user33 YOU GUYS ARE ABSOLUTE ANIMALS IN HERE WTF ENOUGH GUYS ENOUGH YOU HORNDOGS user21 all ten fingers.

sophia froze.

her grip on her the drawstring of your hoodie tightened slightly, her jaw ticking as she forced her gaze to remain on the screen, pretending to be invested in the chat. 

but anyone who knew her—especially you—could see the barely concealed flicker of irritation in her expression, the slight way her nostrils flared, the way her fingers twitched as if she were this close to reaching out and physically covering your mouth to put an end to whatever nonsense you were spewing.

she knew you were just playing around. she knew it.

but that didn’t stop the possessive heat from curling low in her stomach, nor did it stop the subtle shift in her posture—back straightening, shoulders rolling back, as if preparing to stake her claim without saying a word.

user1 guys im kinda scared of sophia user79 SHES LOOMING HELPPP user52 guard dog who user93 damn sophia my b for even looking at yn user84 im gna sleep now okay?? dont choke me in my sleep pls user77 I WAS JS PLAYING W YN PLS DONT KILL ME user91 holy shit i js got shivers down my spine

sophia hadn’t meant to react so quickly, so instinctively, but the second another flirtatious comment slipped past your lips, she couldn’t hold back anymore. before she even registered what she was doing, her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your arm in a vice grip—possessive, unwavering.

your amusement only grew at the sudden contact, lips parting slightly as you turned away from the chat, gaze landing on sophia. her expression was downright murderous, eyes dark, pupils blown wide with a sharp intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

without a word, she yanked your arm toward her, grip tightening as if to silently remind you who you belonged to. both of her hands locked around your forearm now, as if afraid you’d slip away if she loosened her hold even slightly.

and then—thud.

in her urgency, her knee jerked forward, slamming against the table. the impact sent her phone tumbling forward, landing screen-down with a soft clack, the camera immediately blacking out. the live was still running, but now all the eyekons could hear was the sharp rustle of movement, the sound of fabric shifting, a muffled noise—

because in the very next second, sophia had tugged you forward, pulling you straight between her thighs with a force that left you momentarily stunned. and before you could even process what was happening, her hands were on you—one threading into your hair, fingers tangling at the base of your skull, the other firmly cupping the back of your neck, anchoring you in place.

and then she kissed you.

no hesitation, no teasing buildup—just pure, unfiltered need.

it was all-consuming, the way she melted against you, the way her lips moved with a desperation that sent your mind reeling. 

she kissed you like you were her oxygen, like she had been starving for you this entire time—which she has been to be fair, and now that she had you, she refused to let you go. her fingers tightened in your hair, tugging slightly, as if to draw you in even closer—though there was hardly any space left between you.

but just as you were getting lost in the heat of it—just as you felt yourself melting into her touch—she suddenly pulled away, her hands shifting to your shoulders.

and then, without warning, she pushed you back.

you barely had a second to react before your back hit the couch once again, a soft groan escaping you as sophia moved fast, swinging a leg over your waist and straddling you with ease, her knees pressing into the cushions on either side of your hips.

you blinked up at her, breathless, dazed, lips still tingling from the kiss. but she didn’t give you a moment to recover. the rest of the world faded, the chat, the live, the teasing—nothing else mattered except this. except her. just like how she’d intended. and she leaned back in for more.

user77 HELLO??? WHAT IS GOING ON user51 GET ME OUT OF THE BASWMENY user11 BTCHCICHFUHFIE WTAFFDTFYE WHAT IS GOIUNG ON HELLO user78 I HEARD THAT user12 smn pick me up im scared user82 bon appetite to sophia ig user94 AT LWAST END THE LIVE????? user73 am i interrupting sumn user93 freak ON user44 media training went out the window im crying theyre not even tryna hide it HELPPP user25 probably making out in my cellular phone i pay for every month??? diabolical work i feel targeted.

sophia had no idea how she’d ended up here—pressed into the middle of a drunken, swaying crowd, the bass thrumming so hard it rattled her ribs, the air thick with sweat, alcohol, and the kind of recklessness that came with too many shots and too little self-control.

this was not what you had promised.

"it'll be chill," you’d said, smiling so sweetly at her earlier, brushing your fingers through her hair as you reassured her that it was just a casual going-away party for your friend—nothing too wild. 

but now? some random guy had the audacity to press up against her, subtly—or not so subtly—trying to grind against her like she wouldn’t notice. like she’d let him.

with an irritated grunt, she shoved him off, barely sparing him a glare before weaving through the crowd, jaw clenched. she barely knew your friend, didn’t care to, really. she wouldn’t even be out of bed right now if it were up to her, more than happy to be curled up under the covers with you, watching mamma mia back to back before switching to your personal favorites—until the two of you inevitably dozed off.

but no.

you just had to have plans. just had to drag her to some bullshit party for a friend jetting off to europe to “find the woman of her life.”

sophia cursed under her breath, her usually calm composure cracking as frustration simmered beneath her skin. her hands itched—aching to grab ahold of you, to pull you against her and make sure every single person here knew you weren’t up for grabs.

the flashing, colorful lights of the room made everything simultaneously too bright and too dim, disorienting her as she searched. the pulse of the music did nothing to drown out the growing sense of urgency clawing up her spine.

she should’ve never let you out of her sight—oh, there you are.

sophia could feel it creeping in—the sharp, insidious burn of jealousy sinking its claws into her chest, wrapping tight around her ribs like a vice for the second time that week.

surrounded by a cluster of women, all too eager to lean in, to bat their lashes, to laugh a little too loudly at something you’d said—something that, knowing you, probably wasn’t even that funny. yet there they were, hanging onto every word, eyes lingering a little too long, bodies angled a little too close.

her jaw clenched.

her vision blurred at the edges, tinted green with something she refused to name, but it propelled her forward before she could think twice, her feet carrying her straight to you, drawn in like gravity itself had shifted. 

she slipped through the crowd with practiced ease, a mask of indifference settling over her features like second nature—calm, cool, unreadable. but beneath the surface? she was nothing but raw chaos.

without a word, her fingers curled around the fabric of your shirt, tugging you back, away from them, to her. her hands moved instinctively, slipping over yours, guiding them down, redirecting—staking claim.

she flattened your palms against her waist, holding them there, her body pressing into yours like she needed you closer. always.

“want your two hands on me at all times, baby.” sophia's voice was a low murmur, silk-smooth and deliberate as she tilted her head back, lips just barely grazing your cheek before trailing toward your ear, a slow, teasing whisper meant for you—but performed for the lingering eyes around you.

“and if you let go, better put ‘em right back fast.” her grip on your hands tightened, guiding them to press firmer against her waist, as if daring you to even think about moving them away. her fingers curled around yours, possessive, a silent command to stay put. her heart pounded, a steady rhythm against your skin. 

"want your two hands on me.” like my life needs saving, she’d have dared utter if she wasn’t too lost in the way your breath hitched, fingers twitching against hers.

and maybe it did.

she leaned in closer, lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear, her breath warm and slow, sending shivers down your spine. “let ‘em all know.”

her hand ghosted back, fingers featherlight as they traced along your jaw before tilting your chin up just enough to meet her gaze, dark and unreadable.

“can you do it like that?”

masterlist.

“Wanna know somethin’?” She asked, her finger grazing along your walls and desk, fiddling with the objects on it. “I’ve been in this room so many times, too many times to count.” Her steps moved closer to you, inches away now, standing right behind you. Her voice was a little rough, but soft, almost a whisper. Your body stiffened up, fists shivering. “But, this time is different. This is the first time I’m in it with you… awake.”

Her breath was hitting the back of your neck, making you gasp sharply. “Are you scared?” Jinx whispered in your hear, making you quickly turn around to face her. To face the woman that haunted your life in the best fucking way possible. The woman who knew your every move, killed someone for you, and who could destroy you if she wanted to. There she was, face to face with you, a smirk plastered on her face. Her eyes gleaming in the dark faintly lit room, pupils blown out. Her hands were behind her back, blue hair in her face, looking innocent yet so guilty.

“Jinx,” You said, voice breathy and quiet.

“That’s me.” She said, inching closer. She was just centimeters away now, so close you felt her body heat radiating off of her. Your heart pounded against your chest loudly, so loud you could hear every beat.

“What… What is it about me? Why me?” You questioned, hesitant but not stuttering. Your mind raced as you finally asked the question that tore you apart. You wondered what she’d say, your eyes darting all across her face, itching for a reaction out of her.

She raised her eyebrow then sneered, like she wasn’t expecting a question. “I could tell you weren’t scared from the start,” She started, walking around you, eyeing your body. “You might be hot, but you aren’t such a good actress. You do know that, right?”

Your eyes rolled at her comment, scoffing a bit. “Well-”

Jinx cut you off with the sudden click of her gun pressed against the back of your head. Your eyes shot open, tensing up against the cold metal. “Yet, you still put on that fucked up petrified face every time I got close to you. Like, like you… wanted to go along with it.” She made her way around you again, gun still cocked on your head, nose to nose with you now as she spoke. “You did that for me, didn’t you? You did that to please me. You… You’re fucking crazy.” Her eyes glared at you, snickers escaping her lips as she spoke.

Your eyebrows furrowed, flush forming on your cheeks. She’d known all along, which irritated you. I mean, if she knew, why hadn’t she done something about it sooner? “Funny, coming from you. Answer my fucking question.”

“C’mon, babe… Don’t you get it?” Jinx leaned in, lips hovering over yours, her other hand gripping on your jaw. “I just fucking did.”

That did it for you. Your lips crashed into hers, a moan escaping your mouth as the two of you melted into one. Her long tongue slithered its way into your mouth, battling for dominance with your own. She threw the gun on your bed, slamming you down on it, tongues still intertwined. Her saliva dripped into your mouth as she groaned against you, hips grinding against your damp panties. You wrapped your arms around her neck, fingertips feeling her skin, something you’d been dreaming to do for so long. She suddenly pulled away from you, sitting up on your thighs, panting as she spoke.

“Do ya wanna know something else I know?” She asked, head tilting as her hand reaching down, fingers trailing against the bottom of your stomach, making the heat build up inside your thighs again. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to know, but you nodded anyway, hoping whatever it was would get her to put her fingers inside you.

“I know about your late night activities,” Jinx said as she leaned over you, hand slowly creeping its way into your panties, making your legs spread. Your cheeks flushed a bright pink, biting down on your lip.

“I memorized the way you’d call out for me every time you came. I mean, seriously, every fucking time. I memorized your face, your body, the certain pitch your moans made right when you were on edge,” Her hand slipped in, grazing over your clit, playing with the wetness dripping out of your hole. You gasped at the sensation, gripping onto the sheets, eyes darting towards her face. You were desperate at this point, skin on fire from her teasing, wanting nothing more than for her to completely wreck you. “Wanna know one more thing?”

You nodded quickly, “Yes, please. Tell me, hurry.”

She giggled, tutting at your pleading. “What a needy thing.” She licked along your ear, nibbling it softly before she whispered, “I memorized the way you fucked yourself while you imagined it was me.”

Her two fingers slipped in, so smoothly, so easily, like you were molded perfectly for her. Like she belonged inside of you. Your back arched, eyes rolling back, moaning loudly. She groaned as she pushed them in as far as they’d go, feeling as you clenched around her. The ear nibble quickly turned into a bite, drawing blood from your ear. She licked it up, pumping in and out of you, curling her fingers just the way you liked it. You yelped at the sudden sharp pain, but quickly forgot about it as your whole body was swallowed by pleasure.

“Jinx!” You called out for her, hands gripping on her shoulders, nails digging into her skin.

She looked at you, eyes full of desire and glow, trying her best to stay composed as she continued. “Jeez, you’re wearin’ out my name, toots.”

“You… You promise you were looking?” You asked, eyes lowered, a smirk rising up on your face.

Jinx scoffed, eyebrows raised. “You’re way worse than my stalking habit, you know that?” She suddenly pulled out, stared into your eyes, and put the fingers that were just inside of you in her mouth. Your eyes widened, jaw dropping slightly, breath hitching.

“Sweet.” Was all she said before she practically tore your panties off, leaving you naked, exposing the stickiness between your thighs as she spread them open and stared into it. “Wow, look at you!Do guns against your head turn you on, doll?” She taunted as she poked at your clit, making your whole body twitch. You suddenly sat up, pulling her towards you, and kissed her again. You slid your tongue in her mouth to taste yourself as you began to tug her pieces of clothing off. One by one they left her body, leaving her just as bare and vulnerable as you.

“There,” You muttered, lips now resting against her neck. “Now we’re even.” You bit down, sucking and swirling your tongue on her pale skin, leaving behind red and purple bruises. You were totally marking her, making sure everyone knew that she belonged to you just as much as you belonged to her. You reached down her stomach, further down, until you reached her sopping cunt. It was practically drooling for you, her head throwing back and a strained moan escaping her lips as your finger gently pressed against her clit. You rubbed in slow circles, hearing her breath hitch as she slowly began to lose control.

“H-Handsy, aren’t ya?” Jinx muttered out, her lanky, cold hands gripping onto your shoulders as her hips bucked on your fingers, like she was asking for more without using words. You grinned softly at her neediness, knowing that in reality, as scary as she wanted to seem, you were the one who had the power. You’d known that all along, too. The two of you were a panting, moaning, needy mess as you continued to tease her. You wanted her to break first, to throw you down and spread you apart, to use you until she was satisfied. You could tell she was close to breaking—her face twisting up every time you’d stop rubbing, nose twitching, moans growing louder and more frustrated. She was so fucking cute.

You were quickly thrown back onto the bed as she got up for a second, rummaging through the bag she had brought.

“What are you—”

“Jeez, give me a second, will ya?” Jinx said as she strapped something on her hips, rolling your eyes at her. “It’s something special.” She turned around, grinning wide as a violet, glowing strap hung off of her. Your eyes widened at her length, looking back up to meet her eyes. “I made this just for you, toots!” She said proudly. “You said I could do whatever I wanted, right?” She questioned, climbing back on the bed, propping you up against the wall.

“Well,” You started, thighs opening up for her. “I did say something like that.” Her face lit up, wasting no time as she positioned the tip of the toy against your drippy hole. You looked away, eyes shutting for a second, before you felt the sharp pain of her palm hitting your cheek. Your eyes shot back open, widening from surprise, jaw dropped a bit. “Look at me. Don’t close your eyes, got it?” Jinx instructed, holding onto your jaw as she forced your face towards her. “Gods, that look on your face fucking kills me…” She said as she slowly slid her member inside of you.

A slow, loud moan rolled out of your mouth as she did so, eyes rolling back. You gripped onto her back, nails running down against it, leaving red marks all along it. “Shit,” You hissed. “So—So fucking big…" She was stretching you out, making your face twist up as she pushed the toy in deeper.

“Oh, I know, baby. But you can take it, can’t you? I made this special just for you. Don’t ruin it, alright? I believe in you!” She cooed a little mockingly as she forced it in all the way. Jinx knew how to please you. She’d learned how to from afar, taking the time to make the perfect toy for you with the notes she’d taken from her watching you orgasm time and time again. It hit your g-spot just right, grazing against it every time she thrusted, the violet light glowing so brightly, showing how deep inside you she was. She fucked so hard against you that the toy repeatedly slapped against your clit, sending jolts all throughout your body.

“Fuck, s-so deep…” She started, pressing against the bulge the toy created against your skin. Jinx was… messy, to say the least. She would rut into you, thrusts heavy and deep, wanting to fill up every inch of you. The strap of the toy rubbing against her puffy clit every time she did so. Poor thing was so wet, she was moaning louder than you were. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, drool dripping along your breasts, her chipped nails digging into your waist as she continued. Her makeup was smudged, panting like a dog in heat. She was starving before you, patiently waiting for this moment. Hungry for your warmth. Waiting to make you hers. She looked down at your stretched out hole, slick noises coming from it as she fucked into you. “L-Look at you, taking me so well. So… s’fucking… mmh! Good!”

You knew that last part wasn’t praise, she was moaning out about how good she felt. It sounded like she was the one getting pounded into. She was greedy and desperate, face completely fucked out. You smirked, legs spreading wider, staring deep into her eyes. “Look at—mmh—me? Look at you. Such a mess even though I’m the one getting fucked.”

Jinx whined at your comment, face nuzzling into your neck, tongue grazing along your skin as she savored the salty taste of your sweat. “Been waitin’ on this for so long, I can’t—I can’t help it!” She mewed out, her voice cracking as her speed picked up. “You—You’re gonna fucking kill me, doll!”

Your fingers reached for the gun that laid beside you, wrapping your hand around it as you pointed it to her head. A smirk curled up on your face as Jinx’s eyes met yours, widened and full of shock. You bit your lip at the sight of her face, feeling a tightness growing at the bottom of your stomach, your moans increasingly getting higher.

“Are—Are you—scared?” You mocked, sentence choppy, finger shaking as it rested against the trigger. Jinx groaned out, cackling as she positioned the toy to hit nothing but the spot that made your toes curl. Your back arched, struggling to keep the gun held up, screaming out as she did so.

“Ah, ah, ah! You wanna be oh so big and bad? Keep the fucking gun on me, or I’ll pull out. I can tell you’re close.” She hissed, hand on your cheeks, forcing you to look at nothing but her. She had slobber on her jaw, hair sticking to her sweaty forehead, her whiny moans growing louder as you pressed the gun against her head harder. “You’re mine. You’re all fucking mine. Your—Your hole is mine, your body is mine, your mind is mine. Y-You’re—fucking—mine!”

You could feel your walls tightening around the toy, your body begging for release. Your thighs began to quiver underneath her, eyes watering up. “Everything is y-yours! All of me is yours, Jinx, everything! Please let me come. Let me fucking come, pleasepleaseplease!” You begged, hips bucking against the toy.

“Pull the trigger.” She demanded, trying her best to keep herself together. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, s’close…”

Your eyes widened a bit at her command, hand trembling, eyes darting towards the gun then back to her face as you hesitated. You knew Jinx’s weapons were always loaded, was she really that crazy? Her grip tightened on your face, moaning out in frustration. “Come on, do it for me, my favorite girl. Do it for me, make me come. Be a good girl, yeah? Pull the fucking trigger! Just—”

Click.

Your heart skipped a beat, holding your breath. The second her empty gun clicked, Jinx threw her head back, moaning your name out loudly as spurts of squirt escaped her cunt, the warmness spreading over your pussy. You stared in awe of the view, watching as she came before you. You reached your orgasm soon after, dropping the gun to wrap your arms around her neck and hold her close as cum gushed out of you and onto her strap. You scratched up her shoulders, bit into her skin, teeth sinking deep in her. She moaned out at the pain, making her orgasm ride out longer, fucking you slow and deep to draw yours out as well. She pulled out after, limp body laying on yours, panting as her head rested on your stomach. You laid there motionless, taking deep breaths as you played with her loose hair, staring at the wall in front of you.

You were speechless. You didn’t believe it was real, having sex with Jinx. You’d thought about it for so long, how could you possibly know if this was real or part of your imagination? You looked down at her, eyes closed as her other hand gripped onto your thigh. She’s real, right? You thought to yourself, finger poking at her cheek to get a reaction out of her. She opened one eye, whining at you. “Hey, what the hell?”

“S-Sorry.” You replied, still staring at her. She groaned, sitting up in front of you.

“What, cat got your tongue?” She teased, giggling a bit.

“No! Just…” You started, reaching over to grab onto her hand. “You’re real, right?”

Silence. Her eyes blinked a couple times before she let a cackle out, pulling you in closer to her face. “Oh, you bet I’m real, baby. You’re mine. I’m gonna make your life a living hell.”

“Mmm…” Sabrina moaned quietly in your ear, clutching onto you as you left little kisses on her neck.

You both were entangled in the back of her BMW, clinging to one another like velcro while you tortured her with gentle hickeys. Her show had ended a few hours ago, and after parking in the driveway to her mansion, you both had decided you couldn’t contain yourselves anymore.

See, watching Sabrina perform almost every night has gotten you quite peckish, especially seeing the variety of poses she does for Juno knowing full well you were the one she was executing those with. You knew she had wanted to screw around in her dressing room after she was done, but once you saw her bouncing up and down on stage and looking at you with such a seductive stare, you knew you needed to handle her elsewhere.

Now you were here with her shifting in your lap, whimpering softly as your knee rocked back and forth between her thighs, her wetness covering your jeans as she feebly got herself off. She still had her skirt on, brown plaid paired with a button down shirt (which was currently fully unbuttoned) while her panties were stuffed into her mouth. You had used your belt to tie her hands behind her back, gripping her hips to ever so slightly guide her movements during your assault on her neck.

She looked so delicious, her skin glowing from the moonlight shining down through the sunroof. Tears dripped down her face, filling her beautiful blue eyes with a soft warmth. Her eyebrows were upturned, in a position of awareness and pleasure from your consistent touching on her body.

“You look breathtaking my love.” You murmured into her temple, pushing your leg up into her, “So gorgeous.”

She moaned in response, letting her head tilt to the side to rest on yours as she rolled her hips forward and back. Her legs started to shake, thighs tensing and breathing becoming quicker as she began to approach her orgasm. You helped her along, nibbling on her collar bone and licking her sweat coated skin as she tumbled into her release.

She collapsed into your chest, panting softly and taking in gulps of the cold air when you removed her panties from her mouth. You whispered praises in her ear, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of her skirt before pulling the item down her legs.

“Don’t get to comfortable, Sab.” You said, reaching around to undo the belt while the other slipped between her thighs, “I’m not quite done with you.”

“F-fuck.” She stuttered, her soaked cunt clenching around nothing while your digits ran through her folds, “I need t-to be ruined.”

You chuckled, nudging her cheek when she inhaled sharply from your fingers pressing against her entrance, “Oh, I know sweetheart.”

You kissed the shell of her ear before pushing two fingers up into her, sighing in delight from how wet she really was. She gasped, naturally arching her back like you taught her to while she tilted her head back , semiconsciously opening her legs more to give you better access.

She cried out softly, her hand flying to her mouth to cover it when you pressed against that sweet spot just behind her pelvic bone. You curled your fingers into it, pumping them back and forth inside of her without missing a beat. Her walls began to pulse around your digits, clenching in a spastic rhythm, almost of a heart beat.

“Babe…” She whined behind her hand, her eyes fluttering from the intrusion, “m’ close…feels good….”

“I know, baby, I know.” You cooed, rolling your wrist upwards into her with each curl, “I’ll tell you when.”

She nodded, holding onto your bicep for support as she rocked her hips back and forth. You noted on her expression, eyes shut tightly, teeth sinking into her thumb, her cheeks rosy red, all familiar signs of her holding her orgasm at bay.

“Such a good girl, so obedient.” You praised, smiling when she interlaced her fingers with yours, “Cum for me, Sabrina.”

She moaned deeply, a thick sound exuding from the back of her throat. Her body tensed, the tightness of her cunt telling you that she did what you asked, and promptly covered your fingers with her wetness.

You nuzzled her cheek with your nose, slowly removing your fingers and bringing them up to your lips. Her eyes immediately snapped to you, her gaze darkening when you opened your mouth to taste her. As soon as her juices hit your tongue, you groaned, eyes rolling and smiling softly from how delicious she was.

“Tasty.” You commented, wiping the spit off your fingers on your jeans, “As always.”

“Better fucking be.” Sabrina pouted, fidgeting with the button on your pants, “I wanna please you now.”

“Yeah?” You replied, squeezing her hips gently, “Whatcha’ got in mind sweets?”

She hummed, undoing your jeans and pulling them down along with your boxers. Your cock sprung free, bobbing heavily between your legs. She slid to her knees, tying her hair back neatly before leaning forward.

Her eyes locked with yours, big, round, and innocent looking as she began to lick a stripe from the base of your cock all the way to the head. Once she reached the top, she took it in her lips, letting them wrap around your diameter before taking a few more inches into her mouth.

The sight was pleasing, to say the least. Being able to watch such a beautiful woman like Sabrina suck you off like it was her last day on earth was so special. It was intoxicating how she handled you, taking all of you into her mouth with no gag reflex, and slowly dragging all the way back up all whilst blinking innocently up at you was something out of this world.

“God ‘Brina.” You groaned, reaching forward to brush some hair out of her face, “You look so damn good with my dick down your throat.”

She hummed, making you moan from the stimulation, and started to bob her head up and down at a steady pace. Sounds of erotic slurping filled the car, precum mixed with saliva covering your girthy length as she gave you head.

Soon, your orgasm appeared, and you were quick to pushed her head all the way down so her nose was flush with your stomach. You pumped your seed down her throat, moaning in satisfaction when you heard her gulping as much as she could.

“That mouth is something else.” You said, smiling when she giggled as she got back into your lap, “Always the best, baby.”

“Again, better be.” She replied sternly, wiping your cum from the corners of her mouth and popping her fingers between her lips, “I am THE BEST for a reason, remember?”

You laughed, squeezing the fat of her ass, She wrapped her arms around your neck, gazing at you lovingly.

“I’m so in love with you, Y/L/N.” Sabrina whispered, playing with your hair.

“I’m so in love with you, Carpenter.” You whispered back, leaning in before sealing your lips together.

What a great night.

—————————

Your boots clicked against the wet ground of Zaun as you made your way home after your night shift at The Last Drop. The streets were pretty much empty, only littered with the homeless and drunks.

Footsteps could be heard faintly behind you but you paid no mind to it, figuring it just to be someone else taking the same route as you.

Jinx saw you leaving the bar as she was also on her own way home. Her eyes were set on you the moment she saw your pretty face, and the tight outfit that hugged your body just right.

She wanted you, and instead of walking up to you like a normal person, she decided she was going to follow you home— to make sure you got there safe, of course. No other reason.

♡

A deep sigh echoed throughout the room as you sunk into the warmth of your bath. Your head leaned against the back of the tub, eyes closing gently as you let your stress just leave your body. After, you wrapped yourself in a towel and grabbed your dirty clothes from the floor.

You looked through your dresser in just your underwear, back free as you looked for a shirt. The sound of a stick cracking outside your window caught your attention instead, but as you turned your head, there was nothing there. Must've been an animal.

Turning back to your dresser, you come to realize that all of your sleep shirts were dirty. "Fuck." You sighed under your breath. Exhausted, you just decided to go to bed how you were.

°○°○

Days later, you're back in your bed, fast asleep after the rough shift you had tonight.

Your blanket rested at your hips, moonlight peeking through your window and casting over your chest.

Jinx was mesmerized, eyes set on you. She's just making sure you're safe, people are crazy. She can't risk anything happening to her pretty girl.

She stared at the way your breasts sat so beautifully in your small tank, how peaceful you looked, the way your hand rested on your lower stomach.

You shuffled in your sleep, face scrunching softly. Jinx raised an eyebrow as she watched your shuffling continue, until your eyes fluttered open. She watched in a trance from her place in one of the bushes by your window as your hand moved the blanket.

Your black panties hugged your hips, your top stopping right above your belly button, giving her the perfect view of your body.

One hand traveled lower as the other began to tease one of your nipples through your shirt.

Your fingers traced over your clothed slit slowly as you tucked your lip between your teeth. Jinx's eyes were set on that hand specifically, wishing it was hers as she watched it slip underneath the material.

♡

It had been a month.

Jinx hadn't made any moves, she just followed, and watched. This time though, things were different. She got in.

While you were taking your nightly bath, she snuck in through your window.

Now, she's peeking through the crack of the door, scanning over you as you rest your head against the tub. She watches again as your hand slips between your thighs.

By the time you get out, she's back outside your window without a trace.

°○°○

A couple days pass and this has now become Jinx's routine. Sneak in, sneak out. This time, she stayed.

So, to your surprise when you leave the bathroom in only a towel to find a girl sitting in the corner of your room, you don't know whether to scream or run. She stares at you intensely, gaze solely locked on you.

You open your mouth to scream, but in a pink flash she's behind you with her hand wrapped around your mouth.

"Shh, pretty baby. Don't be scared, I'm not gonna hurt you." Jinx spoke softly in your ear, trying to calm you down.

You relax a bit but still tremble against her front, fear coursing through you. Jinx removes her hand slowly, and when she's confident you won't scream she rests her hands on your waist.

"W-what are you- who are you?" You ask with a shaky voice, you think you've seen her somewhere before just not sure where. Jinx giggles darkly as she brushes hair away from your neck with her nose. "Don't worry about that, just wanna play with ya, toots." She whispers before peppering kisses along your neck.

Your body betrays your minds fight to not break and cave to how good her lips feel against your skin when she gently nibbles on your sensitive spot, and its been so long since you've had someone to do this for you. You gasp at the feeling, eyes fluttering as if you're in some daze and you don't have a stranger in your house doing this to you.

The daze wears off, and you gain some composure again as you scream. "Get away from me!" Trying to get out of her strong grip. "Fuckin' stay still." She groans into your neck before gripping it with her hand, tight enough to make your head feel dizzy.

"Be a good girl f'me and stay still, or else I'll have to hurt you— and neither of us want that, do we?" Jinx makes her voice sound so sweet, almost innocent, it almost has you believing her. "You're— You're crazy!" You try squirming again, instantly regretting it when her grip tightens around your throat, and you can't get a single noise out.

Jinx's eyes are angry. "What did I say?" She growls in your ear, cheek pressed against yours.

Your eyes flutter closed, and it doesn't go unnoticed when your thighs absent-mindedly squeeze together on their own. Jinx giggles again, using one of the hands on your waist to grab one of your thighs, spreading you open. You cave, letting her. You know it's crazy, but for some reason you don't care.

"Oh, I'm gonna have so much fun with you."

♡

You haven't seen her since, she left after that. It had been two weeks, and to be honest, you think you missed it.

But, it was the most 'exciting' thing that had happened to you in months. You missed the adrenaline rush. You missed the fear the she rose in you. You missed how good she made you feel while barely doing anything. How she smelled. The way her hands gripped your throat. The way she looked at you like you were the prettiest thing she'd ever seen.

You knew it was insane, but you wanted it back. So you waited, content that you wouldn't freak out again, but she didn't come back. Not for months. You still had moments where you felt someone watching you. The hairs that stood up on the back of your neck when you were taking a bath, but when you turned around there was no one there.

So, you stopped waiting. You decided, as crazy as it was, you would look for her.

You spent a week asking around if anyone's seen a girl with bright blue braids and pink eyes, and even at the mention, people would go wide-eyed and not give you an answer.

That was until you started asking at work, word got to Sevika, so word got to Jinx.

You got home that night, sighing as you threw your bags on your bed. Taking your hair down, you look in the bathroom mirror, jumping when you saw her reflection. You spun around quickly, heart thumping in your chest, just like you wanted.

"Heard someone's been asking for me. Miss me already, toots?" Jinx teases, slowly sauntering towards you. She stops at your feet, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your chest heaves as your breathing gets quicker and heavier, the adrenaline coursing through you all over again. You look up at her, eyes big and your lips parted. "You look so pretty when you're scared, baby." She coos, hand gripping your jaw.

Jinx stares down at you, tilting her head in curiosity. "Now why was the one screaming for me to get away, looking for me?" Her eyes have a glint of mischief in them as she inches closer.

She glances to your lips once before looking back to your eyes. You involuntarily follow, eyes gazing at her pretty pink lips for a second too long. "Oh, I see." Jinx smirks before lifting your chin up and leaning in, lips softly brushing against yours.

You were the one who closed the gap, pressing your lips against hers desperately. Your hands grasp the back of her head, pulling her closer. Jinx's hands grip your waist as she returns the kiss, gently biting your bottom lip. You moan softly, pulling back with dilated pupils and heavy breaths.

Another kiss is placed on her again, pushing her out of the bathroom as you do.

She pulls your shirt off in the process, and unclasps your bra so easily it's almost concerning.

She twists, shoves your bags off the bed and pushes you down on the mattress. Her eyes are wide, and you swear they're glowing. She grins before crawling up to hover over you, meeting you in another kiss.

Your lips part in a gasp, giving her an opening to slip her tongue in and she takes it. You moan into the kiss again, placing your hands on her back. Your heart is racing again, and your head feels dizzy from the rush of it all. This is insane.

She bites your bottom lip again and your hips buck against hers. She pulls back slowly, a small string of saliva connecting you together. Your eyes are heavy as you look up at her again. She smirks, hands tracing down your stomach before she stops at your hips. She mumbles something incoherently, unbuttoning your jeans for an unexpected second time now.

Your breathing is quick, and your chest moves up and down with each breath. Jinx looks up, noticing the soft pants from your direction. "I can hear you breathing. Nervous, baby?" She tilts her head, studying you. You nod slowly, eyes never leaving hers.

Jinx pouts as she slips her hand into your pants, slowly cirling over your panties. "Poor baby, don't be scared. You know I won't hurt you, unless you make me." Her eyes stare into yours, almost promising her previous words. You swallow hard, nodding as you try not to make any noise.

Jinx leans forward to kiss up your stomach as her hand slips under your panties, met with your soaked cunt. She giggles, but doesn't say anything. Your heart is beating so fast she can hear it.

Kisses trace up your skin, stopping right between your breasts. Her eyes are locked on you as she sucks a nipple between her lips. A soft whine leaves from your parted lips as you watch, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.

Teeth scrape across your sensitive nipple and you hiss, hips squirming. "Movin' too much." Jinx groans, sitting up between your legs as she reaches in your nightstand, pulling out a rope and handcuffs.

You look at her confused, knowing they're not yours. She giggles as she shrugs. "Left these here last time after you fell asleep, incase I ever needed them." She says it so casually it makes you feel like your heads spinning.

Before you know it, your wrists are handcuffed and placed above your head, and you're stripped of your pants with your ankles tight to either bed post. If you were nervous before, you're definitely terrified now. You hadn't expected this at all, but the burn of the rope against your skin and the way she's eyeing you down sends a rush of excitement to your pussy.

Currently, jinx is rested between your legs, eyes bearing into yours as she sucks on your thighs. She's dangerously close to your core, ghosting over it as she switches between thighs. She's teasing now, wanting to see how far she can push you.

Finally, you break. You desperately try to thrust your hips towards her but fail, completely stuck in your position. That realization sends a ping of worry through you, but it's quickly forgotten about when her middle finger swipes through your cunt, collecting the wetness by your entrance before she drags it up towards your clit. Jinx's finger rubs tight, quick circles against your sensitive bud, relishing in your whines and pleas for more.

Completely lost in the feeling, it catches you off guard when she spits on your clit before slowly rubbing it in, watching the way it mixes with your arousal. Your lips part in a soft gasp. "Dirty girl, letting me touch you like this and you don't even know me." Jinx murmers, lips kissing your thigh again as she watches the way your body reacts to her rubs and occasional pinches.

Minutes pass and you're thrashing, trying anything to get her to finally fuck you. Your whines and whimpers do nothing but boost her ego as you pathetically beg for her, mind going dumb as you crave more.

"P-please baby.. need more." You mewl, squirming as she giggles against the inside of your thigh, middle finger still restlessly rubbing at your clit. At this point your cunt is leaking onto the sheets, a wet patch of your arousal painted right below you. "Shhh. Take what I give you, slut." She bites down on your thigh, leaving a mark.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, so close yet so far to being able to reach that edge. "Please, I need you inside of me." It comes out in a whimper, and you can't even bring yourself to be embarrassed anymore. Jinx finally moves her hand lower, teasingly circling your entrance with two fingers.

"Want me here, hm?" She looks up at you, a playful look in her eyes as she pushes in for a split second before pulling back out. "Answer me." Jinx's voice is dark, and her touch becomes harsher. "Ye— yes. Please?"

Jinx can't help it. It's not her fault you look so cute, all soaked and vulnerable, completely at her mercy. She wants to draw this moment out for as long as she can, and she knows the moment her fingers slip inside of you and bring you to that peak, it's over.

Either way, she obliges, deciding that the sounds of your pleasure are much better than your pathetic ones of desperation. Jinx's fingers pump into you slowly, and she swears she could've came right then and there at the loud moan she just ripped from you. She wanted more of those.

Her fingers pump into you faster, filling you up and stretching you out. She's mesmerized by the way your walls suck her fingers back in every time she goes to pull her fingers out a little. "You're practically swallowing me up, toots! Has it really been that long since you've been properly fucked?" She teases, glancing up to see the look on your face.

Your eyes are lidded, brows softly furrowed in pleasure, lips parted as quiet whines leave them, and you're staring right back at her.

Jinx curls her fingers, pressing against that spot that makes you feel lightheaded. She pulls another loud moan from you, only this time she got it while you staring into her eyes.

That had Jinx hooked.

She repeatedly curled her fingers into that spot, all while thrusting her fingers into you at a speed you'd never experienced before. Your eyelids begin to flutter, taking your attention away from her. "Look at me or I'll stop." Her tone is firm, yet her pace never slows.

You try your best to listen, struggling to keep your eyes open. "Good girl, pretty baby. You'd do anything to keep me fuckin' this slutty pussy, wouldn't you?" Jinx teases, a mocking pout on her lips.

A borderline pornagraphic noise echos off the walks as you toss your head back, thighs beginning to shiver around her hand. "Anything! Anything you want!" You whine, looking back down at her. Your head feels fuzzy, and you look back down at her. Jinx smiles, loving how you've just completely given in to her.

With one final curl of your fingers, your mouth falls open with a cry as your head rolls back again. Your thighs struggle to stay still as you cum on her fingers, soaking her hand and more of the sheets below you.

She might just have to make you a nightly visit again.

The latter gasped in faux outrage at the Latina’s teasing, shooting her the biggest side-eye.

“Oh my God,” Megan suddenly burst into hysteria, catching the three members beside her off guard. “Remember—Remember that time Dani stole Y/N’s shirt. Like the one she got in Greece—the one she cut, so it was off shouldered?”

Dani immediately screamed once she realized what incident Megan was recollecting. She stood from her seat, leaning over a retreating Yoonchae to place a hand over Megan’s mouth. Lara’s eyes widened at her teammate’s antic, hands grabbing the older’s hips so she wouldn’t fall into the table of food.

The camera cut to Sophia, Y/N and Manon next door, their actions halting as they stared off screen at a muffled screech. The three glanced at each other, their hands hovering over the parts of the house they were making.

Manon eyed Y/N, elbowing the younger. “Sounds like Dani’s having a little too much fun, baby, if y’know what I mean.”

Sophia shot her a grimace, “Nobody ever knows what you mean, Manon. Oh my God, you’re ruining the—!”

The shot cut back to the younger line of Katseye members. The camera zoomed in on Dani’s fluster, her pale cheeks burning a faint shade of pink as she desperately tried to cease Megan from sharing the embarrassing encounter.

“Megan, I swear to God—!”

“Wait, I remember this,” Yoonchae chimed.

Megan’s devious cackle echoed around the room, leaning back and away from Daniela’s grasp. The whisker dimples etched under her eyes, they curled into thin curves from how hard she was laughing. “Dani snuck into Y/N and Lara’s room at night and stole her shirt while she was showering. And—and, when Y/N came out, she spent like twenty minutes looking for this stupid shirt because she lives in that graphic tee.”

Daniela knocked her chair back abruptly with the back of her thigh, storming off screen with red cheeks as Lara shouted insincere assurance that the story wasn’t as embarrassing as she had recalled.

Now Yoonchae was laughing, pointing off screen at Daniela, who was hiding her face in her hands behind a scattered crowd of their filming crew members.

“Dani begged Yoonchae not to tell Y/N she had her shirt and she was hiding in her closet, pretending to look for something the whole time before Yoonchae ratted her out.” Megan leant back in her chair, almost tipping backwards—if not for Yoonchae holding her upright—at how hard she was laughing. “Oh my God, Dani was so embarrassed, her face got all red and she like refused to leave her room. Y/N caved and just gave her the shirt, and Dani just wears it around the house 24/7.”

“Yeah, it’s Dani’s like, designated pjs.” Lara added.

“It was so funny because Dani thought she was so slick with it.” Megan sighed, her laughter dying down. “Anyway, if Y/N wasn’t the nice, good girl she was, she would’ve filed a creepy perv report against Dani, I swear on all the moms.”

Their manager ushered Dani back onset, plopping back down beside Lara in defeat. Her hair was a little tousled and her cheeks were flushed, the tip of her ears radiating heat as she stared down and fought the small smile creeping its way onto her lips. Her dimples evident.

“I have never, in twenty years of life ever been violated like this.” The Latina murmured, eyeing the three cameras around them respectively as Lara rubbed her back up and down. “For the record, I got Y/N that shirt because I had one. I wanted us to match in Greece when we were shooting that video and I swear I thought it was mine.”

“Mhm, whatever you need to tell yourself.” Lara chuckled. “Y/N’s one was cut, but okay…”

*Loud technical difficulty transition* Cut to a Weverse live in Manon and Y/N’s room. Manon was sitting on the floor, fixing her hair in the camera as Y/N read comments over her shoulder. The collar of Manon’s striped button-up was flared and the V line hung a little too low. Y/N, in a beanie with the hood on, her make-up still on from the day and big hoop earrings skimmed the comments Eyekons were making of the eldest member’s outfit.

“They’re saying you’re looking too seductive,” Y/N joked, looking down at Manon’s chest from over her shoulder. She grabbed the collar, fixing it and smoothing it out to cover a bit more skin Manon was flashing the camera. The younger bit her lip, her eyes hooded as she eyed Manon through her long, fluttering lashes. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, jokingly sliding a hand over Manon’s shoulder. “Save the show for me tonight when the camera turns off.”

The older seemed to return the same level of freakiness as she raised a knowing eyebrow. Her hand found Y/N’s neck, grabbing it as she leant in and turned her head dramatically over to cover both their faces. Their giggles could be heard before they pulled apart, glancing back at the camera at the amount of frantic comments flooding their live.

A particular verified user seemed to catch Manon’s eye.

“Well, I didn’t know Dani was watching.” She leant closer towards the camera, reading what the girl had typed into their chat. There were a couple of comments with an exaggerated amount of capitalized yelling and angry emojis. “‘Stop flirting before you make me gag’ and ‘I can hear you guys from the living room please shut up’. Dani’s on a call with her family downstairs right now, so she can’t join us. Bad girl, she’s tuning into this live instead of talking to her parents.”

user01 Probably needed to make sure Y/N was behaving

user02 DANI COME GET YO GIRL

user03 Guys Y/N’s looking a little too fine in that fit

user04 At least we know who the dom is between them

Y/N giggled to herself at the comments on Dani’s reaction to their dynamic. Her ringed hands come up to adjust the hood over her beanie, running her slender fingers through her hair as she wet her lips. “Dani, be good and talk to your mami y papi, yeah? You can come and join us when you’re done.”

[ SHES SO FUCKING HOT FOR THIS ]

Manon rolled her eyes at the younger’s statement. What was supposed to be an innocent sentence definitely had Daniela kicking her feet with a finger between her teeth downstairs.

“‘Yes ma’am’,” Manon read out, “Okay, Miss Ma’am, walk her like a dog, N/N. Maybe Sophia should step aside and let you be the leader, you’re like the only one who can keep Dani in line.”

user05 “BE GOOD”??? OMG ID FOLD

user06 dani’s so real cuz if y/n asked me to be good, i’d immediately be on my knees too

user07 BOTH lips smiled

user08 she def talks you through it…

“Somebody asked who your celebrity crush is.” Manon announced. She chuckled to herself, brushing her hair back into a pony with her hands. “Girl, ya’ll should pull a chair out for this one, Y/N has a whole tier list.”

Y/N gasped in excitement, readjusting her sitting position. She whipped her hand out, holding up an open palm.

She rambled, “I made a list because Lara and I wanted to make a hear me out cake. Okay, so basically we had a men’s and women’s version. But the men’s one is so short, so we’re doing the women’s one, okay? Hear me out.”

[ Y/N we know what you are ]

Manon slapped her in the arm, shooting her a warning glare. Reminding her they had certain rules they needed to follow on live, to not say anything that would get them in trouble.

“Okay, so basically I’ve been watching these sisters on youtube and they’re hilarious. The Kalogeras sisters? I am absolutely in love with Demitra, she’s so funny and so good at singing.” Y/N bit her lip, “Dani got so mad at me when I was watching them the other day between rehearsal. She said if I was gonna watch someone with curls, it should be her.”

user09 so Y/N has a type; girls with curls

user10 Y/N basically just confirmed Dani’s THAT kinda gf

user11 my two worlds just collided

Nearly immediately, as if on cue, Daniela bursted through their door and into their room. She was sporting a beige jacket, her hair tied into a bun as she tackled Y/N to the ground.

“Stop! They’re gonna think I’m crazy.” Daniela squealed, her arms wrapped around the older’s face as they wrestled off screen. Manon side-eyed them in disgust as she continued reading the comments about Daniela’s affectionate nature when it came to Y/N. They always seemed to be touching in some way when they were together, as if they couldn’t stand being away from each other for too long. “And literally take her off that heat me out list, I should be the only curly-haired person you love!”

[ What’s more gay; Actually being gay or whatever this is? ]

*Loud technical difficulty transition* Cuts to the Katseye house-warming video, where they all sat around on a couch and table. The girls were just talking with pizza in their hands and occasionally argued about a silly topic.

Daniela noticed Y/N sitting alone beside her. The older was just staring intently at Sophia and Manon debating whether or not the best tiktok idea collector was each other.

The Latina’s hands crept towards Y/N’s under the table, which the video zoomed into. [ The way they thought they were slick ] Daniela laced their fingers together loosely, tugging her closer until her back was pressed against her front. Daniela’s arm laid over Y/N’s shoulder, her hand playing with the ends of her hair. Y/N didn’t seem to mind, used to the Latina’s need for physical intimacy as her hand rested on Daniela’s thigh.

Across the group, Lara and Y/N shared a glance. The Indian dancer raised an eyebrow, throwing the older a smirk at their positioning. She nodded off towards the camera, almost like she was reminding the older of their duties.

Y/N peeled away from Daniela just the tiniest bit, feeling the younger sigh in protest.

The video zoomed in on a blurry image of the two still cuddling as Sophia squealed in disbelief at something Manon said. They were so obviously affectionate with each other, Yoonchae and Megan were whispering and eyeing them in teasing irritant.

“Dani, y’know you won’t die if you just sat normally beside Y/N for once, right?” Manon snorted, earning a harsh punch in the arm from the Latina in response as Y/N laughed.

“Yeah, ain’t nobody tryna pry the poor girl from your hands, babe. Y/N can’t even eat her pizza cuz you’re all over her.” Lara collapsed into a laughing Sophia as Daniela hid her face behind Y/N’s neck. The older stroked her hair in comfort, laughing at their members’ teasing. “See, Dani needs her mommy to come save her from embarrassment.”

“We just moved in and Dani’s already tryna steal my roommate,” Manon joked, “Such a thief, Lord.”

For the rest of the live, with a light atmosphere of just talking and being together, Daniela and Y/N stayed cuddling together as they fell into the rhythm of conversation with their friends.

*Loud technical difficulty transition* Cuts to an interview Katseye is doing a live Q&A for their band’s new album release, and Daniela and Y/N are sitting side by side at the end of a line of Katseye members. The host, a fan favorite for being playful and cheeky, is known for asking light-hearted and sometimes embarrassing questions.

"Alright, now, we’ve seen how close all of you are, but we want to know more about the dynamics between Daniela and Y/N. You two are always together, always laughing and making jokes. So, here’s a question: is there any moment when one of you just absolutely flusters the other?"

The fans immediately begin to chant “Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” as they anticipate something fun, and Daniela looks at YN nervously, already blushing slightly.

Y/N giggled at the audience’s fanfare, holding her mic up to her lips. “Oh, I think we both have our moments, right, Dani?"

Daniela gives a nervous laugh and tries to play it off, but she’s clearly getting more flustered. Y/N, noticing, decides to tease her a little more. The other members share knowing looks at Daniela’s reaction, knowing their favourite Cuban was terrible at hiding the physical reactions her body had to teasing—especially their fellow Katseye member, Y/N’s.

“Remember that time last week when we were rehearsing, and I said, ‘I think you look really cute today,’ and you literally froze and couldn’t finish the choreography for the next five minutes? Like, it was so funny ‘cuz Roy was getting so frustrated that our best dancer was completely messing up the sequence.”

Daniela’s eyes widen, and she immediately turns bright red. The fans erupt in laughter, knowing exactly what moment YN is talking about from a vlog that was uploaded a couple days ago on a day in the life of Katseye. Daniela quickly covers her face with her hands in embarrassment.

"I—I wasn’t expecting you to say something like that, okay?! You just... you just looked at me and said that so casually! How was I supposed to focus after that?!"

Y/N pouts, pursing her glossy lips at Daniela. "Aww, come on, Dani. You looked so cute, so I had to tell you! But it’s okay, I won’t tease you too much... unless you want me to."

Daniela stammers, still covering her face, and the fans are loving the playful interaction between the two. YN leans in a little closer, her voice softening.

Y/N chuckled, leaning over to rest an assuring hand on Daniela’s thigh. "But seriously, Dani, you always look amazing. Don’t be embarrassed."

Daniela’s heart skips a beat, and she’s now visibly flustered, her face as red as a tomato. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, trying to hide her smile.

"I’m not embarrassed! I just... I didn’t expect you to say that then on camera, or now on live TV."

YN chuckles and pats Daniela on the back, giving her a smile, while the fans continue to cheer for the adorable interaction between the two.

The host hummed, "Looks like we’ve learned a little more about who keeps who on their toes! Thank you for sharing, Dani. I’m sure YN won’t let you forget this anytime soon."

Daniela, still a bit flustered but laughing along with the rest, glances over at Y/N, who gives her a wink (which the camera and crew fully catches, as an exaggerated edit with a winking sound effect added in post). It’s clear that their close bond and playful teasing are one of the group’s favorite dynamics.

*Loud technical difficulty transition* Cuts to Lara’s live, when somebody asked her, “What are the Katzs’ favourite things to do when they’re not at work.

“—Sophia’s is definitely cooking. Girl loves just being able to make a big dinner and have us all sit down and eat like a big family. And Dani’s is… Dani loves reading, sometimes she’ll just be reading in Manon and Y/N’s room with whatever book she’s reading that week. Manon will be finding new ways to do her makeup and matching new fits—And Y/N loves just jamming out and making some tunes on her guitar. Oh my God, the tiktok she recently made with the riff to “Me and Your Mama” was so good. I’m pretty sure Dani forced the poor girl into doing that song after she did “Enter Sandman”.”

[ They’re so old married couple omg ]

“Yeah, we’ve been working hard and practicing a lot with the show coming up. But honestly, Sophia’s been doing a lot behind the scenes to keep morale high and make sure we’re resting well… Y/N being Y/N has been stressing about Sophia overworking herself,” Lara said, “Dani gets really upset when Y/N digs herself into this hole of worrying about us. She’ll get extra catty and mean when Y/N’s down.”

[ Dani always defends her girl… they’re so cute ]

“No, Dani got so angry that one time Y/N got shoved accidentally by this photographer on set. She almost got in trouble for saying stuff, it was insane. I mean, Sophia and Manon definitely had some things to say to that guy too, but Dani?” Lara exhaled deeply, flicking her wrist. “Dani was full Latina mami mode. She was yelling in Spanish, she was pointing everywhere, she was ready to throw hands.”

You were always a little different. Maybe it was the way you laughed a little too loud, or how your eyes would sparkle with mischief at the most inappropriate times. You’d sit in the corner of the room, scribbling things into a notebook—ideas for the chaos you dreamed of, scribbled in a way only someone like you could understand. But that didn’t matter to Jinx. She liked it. Hell, she loved it.

She would often sneak glances at you when you weren’t looking, her lips curling into a wicked grin. You could always tell when she was plotting something in that chaotic mind of hers—her blue hair would twitch, her eyes would flicker with an unhinged kind of glee. And you? Well, you were happy to let her drag you into whatever mess she was making.

That’s how it started, really. You weren’t like anyone else to her. She could tell you were sick—sick in the head, just like her. Everyone else saw her as a freak, a monster, a bomb waiting to explode. But you? You understood. You didn’t judge her; you’d look at her with that weird, understanding smile that would make her heart beat a little faster, make her feel something she wasn’t quite sure how to handle.

The day everything went to hell was just another day in the wreckage of your lives.

You were running through the streets of Zaun with her, grinning like a couple of wild animals on the loose. She was laughing, pulling at your hand as you both darted through alleyways and between barrels, her infectious energy pulling you along. “C’mon, we gotta blow this thing sky high!” she screamed, her voice bubbling with that manic excitement she always had when she was in the middle of something fun.

And then it happened.

You saw the flash first. It was a blur, something that didn’t make sense at first. And then, pain. Excruciating pain. A sharp searing heat spread across your chest, and you gasped, stumbling forward into her arms as your vision blurred.

“HEY!” Jinx’s voice cut through the chaos like a knife. “What the hell?! What’s wrong with you?!”

You could barely hear her over the ringing in your ears, the blood pounding in your head. She shook you, frantic now, her hands gripping your shoulders like she could hold your life together with just her touch. Her eyes were wide, not with the usual crazed glee, but with something darker. Something real.

“No, no, no,” she mumbled, her voice cracking. “You can’t—you can’t be hurt. Not like this. Not you.”

You tried to smile, but the pain made it hard. “Guess I’m the one who’s gonna blow up now,” you wheezed, trying to make light of it. You had to—she would hate it if you didn’t.

Her laugh was brittle, broken. She shook her head, her fingers trembling as she pressed against your wound, trying to stop the blood. “No, no, no, no, no,” she whispered like a mantra, her usually sharp voice crumbling with fear. “You can’t be gone. You just can’t. I—”

“Jinx,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your hand reaching up to touch her face. Her eyes locked on yours, wide and unblinking. “I’m fine… just—just stay with me, okay?”

But you could see it in her eyes. She was spiraling. And there was nothing you could do to stop it. Not anymore.

“I—I’m not gonna let you die,” she choked, her hands shaking as she tried to pick you up, cradling you in her arms like you were fragile, like you weren’t the same crazy, dangerous duo who’d been setting fire to the city for days.

“I need you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a sob. “You’re my everything.”

And that was when you realized: Jinx wasn’t just in love with the chaos. She was in love with you. She needed you just as much as she needed her madness.

With shaky hands, you cupped her face, smiling weakly. “I’ll be okay, Jinx. Don’t worry.”

But she wasn’t listening. She wasn’t listening to anything anymore. You had become the center of her universe, the one thing she couldn’t live without. And as the world around you swirled, all you could do was cling to her, knowing that you would take her down with you if you had to. Because she would follow you to the ends of the earth, wouldn’t she?

You just hoped that, for once, she wouldn’t have to.

One Month Later

Ever since the night that Wanda broke up with you, you had become a hermit. You never came out of your room unless it was absolutely urgent, but even then, you didn’t really come out either. 

You’d pass up missions that normally, you would’ve loved to be part of. You absolutely loved your job, despite how demanding it could be. But now, you had been out for an entire month.

You didn’t take care of yourself anymore, rarely eating and never bothering to clean your room. There were clothes strewn about your dark bedroom. 

You felt like the condition of the room was a reflection of how you were right now; an absolute train wreck. The clothes that were scattered about, representing the various fragments of your broken heart that had drifted from one another. 

You spent your days in bed, watching horror movies. You couldn’t watch any other genre, especially romantic comedies; they reminded you too much of Wanda. You’d recalled the many nights where you’d be wrapped up in the comfortable sheets of your bed with Wanda in your arms as she teared up over some cheesy movie. 

You really weren’t the romantic type, but you tried your hardest to be that for the Sokovian. That backfired though. However, the one thing that those movies got right was how painful the breakups could be. 

You used to think they were being dramatic, but now that you were in the same position, they weren’t; it was completely accurate to how you’ve been doing since Wanda left you. You became the stereotypical heartbroken loser that had gotten too emotionally attached to your partner. 

You were the main character in the movie that had just gotten dumped and simply moped around, wallowing in your own self-pity and refusing to leave your bed.

It was pathetic, infuriating even. Here you were, absolutely destroyed by the breakup, while Wanda was out and about with her new Samsung Galaxy Note 8.

She was happy and going about her life while you were stuck in an endless loop of memories; the good and the bad. It had only been a month and Wanda had already moved on, but who were you kidding?

She moved on long before you guys called it quits. 

Your teammates would try and coax you out of the confinements of your bedroom, but it rarely worked. The only person who managed to get you to leave your room was Natasha, and you didn’t really have a choice, since she literally dragged you out of bed. 

No, seriously… she grabbed you by the ankles and yanked you out from under the covers; a bruise on your stomach was proof of the incident. 

You just couldn’t face Wanda. You knew if you saw her, you’d experience the same feeling you did the night she broke up with you, and you couldn’t live through that twice. 

So, avoiding Wanda and her shiny new toy seemed like the best option. You’d heard from Steve that they were officially together. 

You were set on staying in your room as much as possible, but Wanda wasn’t too happy about it. 

Truthfully, she really did miss seeing you around. She noticed the lack of you around the Compound and she was worried.

The Sokovian knew that she definitely didn’t have the right to worry about you, not when she was the reason you were upset, but she couldn’t help it. 

She needed to make sure you were holding up well, even if she knew you weren’t. 

So, she finally chose to speak to you, even if she knew that she was the last person you’d want to see; she had to help you. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•

Wanda softly knocked on your door. She waited for a response, but didn’t receive one. After a few minutes of standing outside your door awkwardly, she decided enough was enough. 

So, she raised her hand slightly, red tendrils emanating from her fingertips, and opened the door with her powers. 

Your head shot up from under the sheets at the sound of the door swinging open and colliding with the wall. Your eyes widened when you saw Wanda standing there, awkwardly walking into the room and shutting the door behind her. 

“What the fuck are you doing? You can’t just barge into my room when I obviously don’t want you in here!” Your tone was ice cold and Wanda flinched slightly at the harshness. 

“I wanted to check on you. I’ve been worried.” Wanda watched as you got out of bed and moved to stand directly in front of her. 

“You’re worried about me? I thought you couldn’t be bothered to care about a monster like me.”

Wanda frowned as you repeated what she had said that night. She didn’t mean what she said, but there was no taking it back now; didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to though. 

“Of course I’m worried. I never stopped caring about you. I didn’t mean it when I called you a monster. I may love Vision, but I love you too, just not in the way that I used to.” 

You felt a pang in your heart. You already knew this, but hearing her say it out loud didn’t hurt any less. 

“I just want you to be happy again, Y/N. You deserve it and I’m so sorry to have pushed you into this state.”

Her eyes scanned over your messy room. It was dark. The only lighting in the room coming from the moonlight that seeped through the small spaces in the blinds. 

“Unlike you, Wanda, I can’t just stop loving someone. I can’t turn my feelings off like a fucking light switch! That’s not how true feelings work and that’s how I know you never really gave a shit about me.” 

Your eyes were dark and clouded with rage. You couldn’t believe that she had the audacity to barge into your room and check on you when she was the one who hurt you. 

“I really did love you, Y/N. I never lied about that. I may be with Vis now, but that doesn’t mean I care for you any less. You weren’t just my lover, but you were my best friend too.” 

You were breathing heavily at this point. Her words were completely messing with your head, but you wouldn’t let her have that power over you; she didn’t deserve it. 

“Why the fuck would I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?” 

Wanda stared at you sadly. You looked so fragile and broken and the brunette hated herself for doing this to you. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Because I made a mistake.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“So did I.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda watched as you walked back to your bed. Her eyebrows furrowed when you reached beneath a pillow, the one she used to use when you used to sleep together. 

Her heart sunk when she caught sight of the same velvet box that you had presented to her on the rooftop. 

You approached Wanda once more and abruptly shoved the box into her hand with a growl. 

“Here, give this to Vision. It’ll be of more use to him than it ever was to me.” 

Wanda let a tear fall as you reached behind her and opened the door, almost knocking her onto her feet as the door collided with her back. 

“Get the fuck out and go pretend to care about someone else.” You gripped Wanda by the shoulders and lightly pushed her out of the room and into the hallway, slamming the door right in her face. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

11 Months Later

It’s been a year since the breakup and you were doing a lot better compared to a few months ago. 

You finally got out of the dark cloud that you had been consumed by. You cleaned your room and actually made your way around the Compound, going on with your life like you used to be.

You’d have a quick breakfast, train with Natasha, shower, work on mission reports, eat dinner, and sleep. It was the same routine as before. 

The only difference was that Wanda wasn’t yours anymore and that fact never got any easier to stomach. 

You were able to stand being in a room with her again, but you still wanted to swallow a piping hot iron every time you saw her with Vision. They didn’t care about your feelings in the slightest. They were always in their own little world whenever they were together and it was irritating, to say the least. 

You’d walk into the kitchen and catch sight of the pair cooking together, Vision’s arms holding the Sokovian against his body, and you couldn’t help but be thrown headfirst into one of your favorite memories with Wanda. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

“Y/N don’t use that! That’s baking soda, not cornstarch!” Wanda exclaimed, using her magic to stop your hand that was about to pour the wrong ingredient into the mixing bowl. 

You blushed profusely, embarrassed of your mistake. Wanda knew you weren’t good in the kitchen, so she took the liberty of trying to teach you how to cook. 

“Sorry, Wands. I don’t really know the difference. Aren’t they the same thing?” 

Wanda dried her hands off, having just finished washing a few dishes that you both would need, and walked over to where you stood, wrapping her arms around your waist. 

“It’s okay, dorogoy (darling). I’m here to help you. So, baking soda and cornstarch are definitely not the same. They serve completely different purposes.” 

You nodded your head at her words, putting the baking soda down on the counter as Wanda handed you the correct ingredient from the cabinet above you. 

“So, baking soda is used in baking, hence the name. It helps things like cake, cookies, and muffins rise. Whereas, cornstarch, thickens liquids like soup and sauce; which is what we are trying to do.” 

You let out a small ‘oh’ and Wanda giggled, shoving her face into the crook of your neck. 

Wanda placed a soft kiss onto your skin as you poured the correct ingredient into the mix, stirring everything together. 

“Your lack of cooking knowledge baffles me.” You rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s words as the vibration of her laughs hit your neck. 

Even though your facial expressions screamed offense, your wide smile said otherwise. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I have a girlfriend who’s a boss in the kitchen to help me out. Gordon Ramsay has got nothing on you, baby.” 

Wanda pulled away from your neck and laughed loudly as you joined in. Everything about the woman that held you was contagious. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Her laugh was your favorite sound. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

You couldn’t help but notice that Wanda had been doing things with Vision that she used to do with you. It gave you a sense of deja vu each time you’d see the new couple together. 

She’d sit beside him during dinner, holding onto his hand under the table as she ate her meal. 

Honestly, why the fuck was he even at the table? It’s not like the walking Swiffer could eat anything. He’s just taking up space! 

You knew it was wrong, but you wanted to pour some water onto the Motorola ‘accidentally’ just to see if he’d short-circuit or something. 

You were bitter and you felt it was completely justified. A fucking razor scooter stole your girlfriend! It was a huge blow to your ego. 

Wanda would sit on the couch, cuddled into Vision’s side, as one of her favorite sitcoms would play on the television. 

You’d hear Wanda’s laughs and silence from the synthezoid. It’s not like he had a sense of humor anyway. He was so serious and dense all the time. Although it wasn’t his fault, you still laughed at him for it anyway. 

But the thing that hurt the most was when she’d take him up to the roof; a place that used to mean the world to you. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

“So, why are we up here right now and laying on the concrete like a bunch of weirdos?” 

Wanda asked as she tilted her head towards you, staring at your side profile as you gazed up at the night sky. 

“Shh, you talk too much. Just look up and be quiet.” You didn’t face Wanda, too entranced by the twinkling lights above. 

Wanda sighed and did as you said. She’d never really noticed how beautiful the night sky was; never having the time or leisure time to stargaze.

“Being an Avenger is a stressful job, as you know. So, one night after a particularly hard mission that drained the entire team, myself included, I decided to come up here.” 

Wanda listened to you speak, turning her head to look at you once more. Her eyes softened when she saw the happy glint in your eyes. 

“I just laid here and looked up at the stars. There’s something so calming about it. Stars just get to stay up there shining. There’s no stress, no responsibilities. They’re just glowing balls of fire, and the best part about this place is that no one else comes up here, so there are no interruptions.”

You smiled and Wanda couldn’t help but smile with you. You finally placed your attention on the Sokovian beauty beside you. 

You couldn’t help but marvel at how stunning her eyes were under the pale moonlight. 

“This rooftop is my safety net. When life gets too much, I come up here and just stare at the sky. For a few hours, I’m just an average person, stargazing and listening to the sound of the city below.” 

Wanda finally understood your point. It really was peaceful up here. If this place was important to you, then it was to her too. 

“I brought you up here because I don’t want it to be my safe place anymore.” 

Wanda’s eyebrows scrunched up confusion at your words. You let out a chuckle, reaching a hand out to caress her cheek lovingly. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I want it to be our safe place.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda’s mouth opened into an ‘o’ shape as the realization dawned on her. Her heart melted at the realization that you wanted to share something so significant with her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’d love that.” 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

You had to admit that the pain had gone from heart-stopping to bearable over the span of the year. 

Every day, it got slightly easier to walk around the Compound, but of course, the pain would always linger. 

You wished that you could move on as easily as Wanda had. It was as if she had forgotten everything you two had been through; as if there was no history, no love that had ever existed. 

But, you tried not to dwell on it as much. You just avoided Wanda as best you could, but you knew that would be impossible. 

Not only did you live in the same building as her, but you were also coworkers. So, being assigned to a mission was inevitable. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

“Steve, what’s this about?” 

You asked as you walked into the meeting room. It was only Steve and Wanda present, so your curiosity was definitely peaked. 

“I’m assigning you and Wanda onto a mission. It’s a simple extraction mission. Go in, get the intel, get out.” 

You sat at the table, a few chairs down from your ex-girlfriend, and she didn’t look too happy with the super-soldier’s words. 

“If it’s a simple mission, why do I have to go on it? Can’t Y/N just go alone?” 

You turned your head to stare at Wanda. Your eyes were wide in disbelief.

“What’s the problem, Witchy? Can’t be professional and stay away from your blender for a few hours?” 

Wanda’s eyes turned red as she abruptly stood up, pushing her chair back with a screech. 

“Oh, you’re one to talk about being professional. I’m not the one that locked themselves in their room and ignored their duties for months.” 

You stood up too, getting in the Sokovian’s face. You were both taking shallow breaths as you glared into each other’s eyes. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“That’s enough!” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Steve slammed his fist onto the table, effectively making you and Wanda move back from one another, still scowling at one another. 

“It’s fine, Rogers. I’ll do the mission myself. It’s not like I need her anyway.” 

You snatched the mission file off of the table and sped out of the room, leaving behind a fuming Wanda and a disappointed Steve. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

A few hours later 

You were currently in the heart of the Hydra base you were supposed to infiltrate. The files you were to retrieve were somewhere in this room, but unfortunately for you, Hydra was smart. 

They didn’t organize the files alphabetically, but in some sort of order of their own that you couldn’t seem to decipher. 

The bad feeling in your gut grew as each minute passed. 

You were shuffling through all of the file cabinets trying to find the correct one you needed. Finally, you found what you were looking for; Experimentation. 

Hydra had been conducting Human Experimentation on civilians again and the team needed to put an end to their operation, but you’d need information on what exactly they were doing. Now, you had it. 

It was time to get the hell out of there before you were spotted. You silently slipped out of the room, checking each side of the hallway before making your way out of the building. 

You had made it out into the open undetected, but you realized you were shit out of luck when you heard a Hydra agent scream. 

“Intruder! Attack, now!” 

You acted quickly and hid behind a rock as a few agents opened fire. You hurriedly shoved the file into your pants and grabbed your phone, dialing Steve.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Y/N? How did the mission go? Are you on your way back?” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I’ve been spotted. I need backup, now!” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You didn’t have time to hold a conversation, not when you were literally being shot at. So, you got straight to the point and quickly hung up on Steve. 

You needed to get to the Quinjet which was a few feet away. Since you were in the middle of a forest, there were other large rocks that could be used as cover, but you’d have to risk getting shot each time. 

You shook your shoulders to release your nerves before charging to the nearest rock. You were fast, but not fast enough. 

You were shot in the shoulder and abdomen, practically collapsing behind the rock you had been aiming to get to. 

You let out a groan at the sting of your wounds, blood seeping out of each hole. It wasn’t anywhere serious, you’d survive if you get to the Quinjet and got the hell out of there. 

You grabbed the gun that had been strapped to your thigh and began to shoot back at the agents. You managed to hit quite a few of them, but they had automatic guns and you had a simple handgun.

You might as well have brought a tiny pocket knife to this battle.

Another bullet hit you, right in the collarbone and you pulled away and back into cover with a scream. You really weren’t doing too great. There was so much blood and you were beginning to feel a bit lightheaded. 

If the team didn’t get here soon, you weren’t going to make it, and that terrified you. 

You were so fucking close to the Quinjet. If you were to book it and run like hell, you could possibly make it to safety and get away; what other option did you have at this point? So, you braced yourself, clutching onto as many of your wounds as you could. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Well… here goes nothing. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Meanwhile… 

The tension in the Quinjet could be cut with a knife. Everyone was worried and anxious to get to your location; to save you. 

Steve had informed the team about your situation, he explained that you had been discovered and he went into detail about the sounds he had heard in the background of the call; gunshots, lots and lots of gunshots. 

Everyone quickly gathered their gear and got into their suits, the entire team in the air in less than ten minutes. 

Wanda was in shock. You were extremely skilled and were trained to be stealthy, so how the hell did you get spotted? How could you be so stupid?

The Sokovian was trapped in her thoughts the entire journey to the Hydra base. Her leg was bouncing rapidly as anxiety took over. 

“She’ll be fine. Y/N is the toughest person I know.” Clint placed a hand on her knee, causing her green eyes to dart over to him. 

Wanda didn’t even know what to say to that. He was right, you were tough, strong, and resourceful. You were loads smarter than she was.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You had to be fine because she wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Natasha’s heart stopped as she landed the jet. She caught a glimpse of you and her heart absolutely broke as she tried to keep a hold of her emotions. 

The rest of the team had been at the exit of the jet, waiting for the jet to completely land before making their way out. 

As soon as the plane touched the ground, Natasha opened the door and Wanda rushed out of the jet. Her eyes took in the sight in front of her. There were bullets all over the ground, so many fucking bullets. The place seemed absolutely deserted, as if the people who had been in the building quickly evacuated once you were spotted. 

The only thing Wanda could see was the Quinjet that you had arrived to the site in. Her heart dropped when she finally saw you; right in front of the jet’s entrance, on the ground surrounded by a pool of blood.

Wanda didn’t even have to think twice as she sprinted over to you. She kneeled down onto the floor and turned you over on your back, a gasp escaping her lips at your condition. 

There was so much blood and so many holes that had been scattered across your body; so many gunshot wounds. 

Tears fell from the Sokovian’s eyes when she realized something; you weren’t breathing. As she held your limp body in her arms, she couldn’t feel the steady rise and fall of your chest that she had spent hours of her life lying on. 

“Y/N? Baby? We’re here now, you can wake up now. They’re gone, you’re safe. You can stop pretending now.” 

The entire team stood around Wanda as she clutched your lifeless body to her chest. Steve put his shield onto the ground and kneeled, everyone else following after him. 

The team stood around Wanda as she clutched your lifeless body to her chest. Steve put his shield onto the ground and kneeled, everyone else following after him. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You weren’t just a coworker; you were family. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

This was a great loss for everyone and the silent forest was filled with the sounds of sniffles from everyone on the team; even Natasha, ever the emotionless woman, let tears fall down her face freely. The atmosphere was heavy as everyone watched Wanda. 

The brunette shoved her face into the crook of your neck as her hands caressed your sides, not caring about the blood. 

“Honey? Please, I’m so sorry. You’re not a monster, you’re the best thing to have ever happened to me. I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you and letting you come here alone. I was a bitch and I admit it, so please come back to me now.” 

Sobs wracked Wanda’s body as she hugged you even tighter. The silence was defeating. You didn’t respond and it broke the Sokovian. 

“I don’t love Vision. I thought I did, but I got so confused about my feelings and I’m so sorry. Please, I’m begging you, let me fix this. You can’t leave me.” 

Tony took a deep breath and looked away from the scene. This was hard to watch, even for him. Wanda’s pleads were useless and everyone seemed to know this except her. 

Steve slowly made his way over to Wanda, placing a strong hand on her shoulder. However, what happened next was completely unexpected. 

Wanda let out a growl and with the flick of her wrist, Steve was sent flying into the Quinjet you had been laying in front of. 

“You. You said that it was a simple extraction mission! Go in, get the intel, get out! Do you remember that?” 

Wanda was absolutely furious. Her eyes were glowing red as she gently placed your body on the floor before walking over to the super-soldier that sat on the floor.

“Wanda, don’t do this. Hurting Steve won’t bring Y/N back and you know that.” Clint intervened before the brunette could get any closer to Steve. Wanda took a look around her, everyone was standing up with their defenses up, watching her every move. 

She took a deep breath and her eyes returned to their natural shade of green. You were gone. There was no bringing you back. She’d lost yet another person she loved. 

Wanda fell to her knees, but Clint caught her just before she hit the ground. He held the sobbing woman in his arms and shut his eyes tightly, suppressing tears of his own. 

You were gone for good. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

The team had made it back to the Compound. The entire ride was silent, aside from Wanda’s sobs as she cradled your body in her arms. 

She refused to let you go, placing your limp body in her lap and clinging onto you. It was a heartbreaking sight. 

Finally, the team had managed to pry your body out of her arms, convincing Wanda to let go so you could get cleaned up and put into better clothes. Yeah, it was very grim, but necessary. 

Wanda placed one last kiss on your forehead and watched as Steve carried you off. Every fiber in her body was screaming to chase after him and pull you out of his arms, but she refrained. 

Natasha tried to speak to Wanda, but the Sokovian didn’t even acknowledge her. Even Vision tried to speak to her as she made her way out of the medical bay, but she brushed him off too. The only person she wanted to talk to was you, but obviously, she couldn’t do that anymore. 

So, Wanda made her way into the elevator and up to the living quarters. She trudged through the halls and made her way into her bedroom. Her hands were shaky as she made it to her destination; a drawer in the corner of her room. 

Wanda opened the drawer and frantically searched through it for the object she was looking for. She froze when she finally found it. She slowly pulled her hand out of the drawer and in her hold was a tiny, velvet box; the one you had presented to her on the roof over a year ago. 

A harsh sob wracked Wanda’s body when she opened the box, her eyes landing on the glimmering ring that sat inside of it. 

Wanda never thought that the day would come, where she had to permanently say goodbye to you. She always assumed that there would always be an opportunity for the two of you to say hello again.

Now, the brunette knew that she shouldn’t have ever jumped to conclusions. 

Wanda’s hands quaked harder as she was hit with a memory that once brought her happiness, but now, it left her gasping for air.

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

“Y/N?” Wanda called out to you, causing you to look up from your phone and down at her.

You guys had been lounging on the couch. You had the day off and decided it was a good time to stay in and be lazy for once. 

“Yeah?” You asked as Wanda cuddled further into your side, shoving her face into your upper arm. 

“I need you to promise me something.” You nodded your head at her words, shutting your phone off and placing it beside you; giving her your undivided attention. 

“Anything.” Wanda let out a shaky breath at your words, pulling back to stare into your eyes that shined down at her. 

“I need you to promise me you won’t die.” You raised your eyebrows at the brunette with an amused smile, a chuckle escaping your lips. 

“Well, baby. As much as I want to promise you that, I can’t. I have to die someday, everyone does.” 

Wanda frowned at your words. Her eyebrows scrunched up cutely as a pout made its way to her lips. 

“Then promise me you won’t die before me. I can’t lose another person I love, I jus- I just can’t. I refuse to lose you too.”

You immediately stopped laughing at that. You knew about Wanda’s past. She’d lost all of her family members. She was terrified and you kind of felt like a dick for laughing. 

You wanted to ease her nerves, even if you knew you couldn’t promise her that either. You’d do anything, promise anything, as long as it made her happy. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I promise I won’t die before you.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Thank you.”

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎────────────────❅•

Wanda shook her head slightly as more tears fell down her cheeks. Her hands were trembling as she carefully pulled the ring out of the box, admiring the diamond that sat on top of the band. She put the box back into the drawer and focused on the piece of jewelry.

The only thing that brought her any form of comfort in this fucked up situation, was that she’d be able to say hello to you again. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Maybe not in this life, but in the next one. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

For now, she’d have to live with the regret of letting you slip through her fingertips; for pushing away the love of her life. 

What if she followed you on the mission like she was supposed to? What if she had been there to protect you from the danger? What if she had gotten to you on time?

She could’ve saved you if she had just gone with you on that god damn mission. You would’ve been alive and safe if she was there. Now, the ‘what if’s’ would haunt her for the rest of her life. 

Wanda slowly slipped the ring onto her finger, her heart pounding in her chest. 

The silver of the ring was a stark contrast to her blood-covered, crimson skin. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I do.” 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

join my taglist!

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Jennie was engrossed in practicing her solo, 'You and Me.' I stood outside, watching her through the door's window. As a fellow member of BLACKPINK and also close to Jennie, I knew I could join without being turned away. After a brief hesitation, I pushed open the door, but the loud noise made me flinch and cower instinctively. Apologetic, I flashed a timid smile, conveying my regret to everyone present.

"I'm so sorry," I murmured, my hands reflexively covering my mouth.

Jennie smiled, her gummy grin warm as she looked at me. “I'm glad you're here,” she said, a hint of nerves in her voice. “Any support from my girls always puts me at ease,” she sighed out.

Walking toward her, I extended my arms for a hug, and she reciprocated warmly. “Of course, Nini,” I said, returning the embrace. “Now, show me what you've got so far,” I grinned, eager to witness her solo performance.

"Wait, you want to learn the dance with me too?" Jennie asked, and my jaw dropped in surprise. "But this is your solo," I pointed out.

"But you love dancing, Y/n. That's why you're here. I know you, you want to dance," she teased with a knowing tone. I couldn't help but glance away bashfully. "You caught me," I sighed, then giggled, rising to stand beside her. The instructor guided me into position, preparing to teach me Jennie's solo routine.

Jennie and I shared a look, giggling at the unexpected turn of events. Then, we began to practice together, side by side.

As the music filled the room, the instructor demonstrated the first few steps, breaking down the choreography with precision. I mirrored Jennie's movements, trying to match her grace and style. Despite my initial nerves, Jennie's encouragement and the instructor's guidance helped ease my apprehension.

"Okay, let's try it together," the instructor said, cueing the music again. With a shared glance, Jennie and I took the first step, our movements synchronizing in a surprisingly fluid motion. We laughed at our initial fumbles, turning them into moments of camaraderie.

Jennie's dedication was evident as she patiently corrected my steps, her infectious enthusiasm turning the practice into an enjoyable experience. We found ourselves lost in the rhythm, moving in harmony, each step building our confidence.

As we repeated the routine, our giggles softened into focused determination. Side by side, we immersed ourselves in the dance, the room filled with our laughter and the pulsating beat of the music. Our shared passion for dance bridged the gap between her solo performance and our impromptu duet.

By the end of the session, we were breathless but beaming, proud of our progress. Jennie wrapped me in a spontaneous hug, expressing her gratitude for sharing the experience.

"That was amazing, Y/n! You catch on quickly," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Grinning widely, I returned her hug, feeling a rush of accomplishment and a newfound bond between us. Practicing alongside Jennie had turned what was initially a nerve-wracking situation into an exhilarating and unforgettable moment.

"Hey, I can totally be your partner for the dance if your dancer gets injured," I joked, a playful glint in my eye.

"You really could! You already know the whole dance. You're my backup now, Y/nnie," Jennie teased, a mischievous giggle escaping her lips. The camaraderie between us felt effortless as we shared a light moment amid the practice.

As we bantered back and forth, the atmosphere lightened even more. The instructor chuckled, joining in on our playful exchange. Jennie and I continued practicing, occasionally adding our own playful spins to the routine, turning it into a playful duet rather than a strict rehearsal.

With each run-through, our confidence grew. We became more comfortable with the choreography, injecting our personalities into the dance. Jennie's infectious energy fueled my determination, and soon, we were both adding subtle flourishes and improvisations that made the routine uniquely ours.

Amidst our laughter and shared jokes, the studio felt alive with creativity and friendship. The initial nervousness I felt had dissolved into a sense of belonging and shared passion. Jennie's encouragement and playful camaraderie had transformed what could have been a daunting experience into an incredibly enjoyable one.

By the end of our practice session, we were out of breath but grinning from ear to ear. We collapsed onto the floor, giggling uncontrollably, our bodies filled with the exhilaration of the impromptu dance session.

"I never expected today to turn out like this," I said, still catching my breath between laughs.

Jennie, wiping away tears of laughter, replied, "Me neither! But hey, Y/nnie, you make a pretty great backup dancer!"

We shared a high-five, reveling in the joy of the moment. The camaraderie we shared during the practice had solidified into a memorable bond, making this day an unexpected and delightful adventure.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The atmosphere backstage was charged with both excitement and urgency as Chaeyoung called out to me, pulling my attention away from watching our fans.

"Y/n! Emergency!" she yelled, causing my heart to race with concern. "What happened?" I asked, my voice tinged with panic.

"Jennie needs you right now," Chaeyoung said, urgency evident in her tone, guiding me towards the fitting room.

"Y/n, I'm so glad you're here. I need you to be my partner for my solo," Jennie said with palpable relief at my arrival.

"What happened to Young Sang oppa?" I inquired, worried about the sudden change.

"He sprained his ankle. I really need you, Y/n. Will you please be my partner?" Jennie pleaded, her eyes earnest and filled with urgency.

"Of course, Unnie. I'll help you, silly," I reassured her, laughter bubbling up at her frantic demeanor.

Jennie let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, the stylist has an outfit ready for you already. After 'Whistle,' change into that outfit," she directed, pointing to the costume hanging in the room, a close match to what Young Sang oppa was supposed to wear.

"Okay," I replied, a smile on my face as I assured her of my readiness to assist.

"Girls, you're on in 5!" one of the backstage crew announced before departing.

Gathering together, the girls and I formed a circle, placing our hands in the center. "1, 2, 3, ho…" we chanted, a ritual that united us before every performance, infusing us with unity and determination. The stage awaited, and despite the unexpected turn of events, I was ready to step in and support Jennie in her solo, sharing the spotlight in front of our devoted fans.

The energy pulsated through the venue, an electric buzz of happiness and anticipation enveloping us. Our performance of "Whistle" had just concluded, prompting me to dash backstage for a quick costume change, preparing to step on stage for Jennie's solo.

Once ready, I joined Jennie, and she enveloped me in a tight hug. "Thank you, Y/nnie," she whispered gratefully.

"Of course, Unnie. I'll do anything for you," I replied, a genuine smile gracing my face. We both assumed our positions, feeling the rush of excitement and nervousness as the intro to Jennie's solo filled the air.

The deafening screams of the fans reverberated throughout the arena, eliciting giggles from both Jennie and me. As the music built up, the floor beneath us started to rise, signaling the beginning of the performance. The adrenaline kicked in, and side by side, we embraced the moment, ready to deliver an unforgettable performance for our devoted fans.

As the stage ascended, the crowd's roars intensified, creating an electric atmosphere. Jennie and I exchanged a quick, reassuring glance, our hearts beating in sync with the music. The lights dimmed, focusing all attention on us.

The familiar beats of the song filled the air, and we synchronized our movements flawlessly. Despite the sudden change in plans, Jennie's professionalism and my eagerness to support her never wavered.

We danced with passion and precision, our movements mirroring each other perfectly. The crowd's energy fueled our performance, their cheers echoing in the vast arena, adding to the exhilaration of the moment.

Jennie radiated confidence, and I followed her lead, stepping into the routine seamlessly. The chemistry between us onstage was palpable, our connection evident in every move as we effortlessly navigated through the choreography.

As the song reached its peak, our eyes locked, sharing a silent camaraderie and a mutual understanding that transcended words. The audience's cheers and applause grew louder, energizing us further.

As the performance concluded, we struck our final pose, breathless but exhilarated. The crowd erupted into thunderous applause and cheers, the air vibrating with their excitement and appreciation.

Jennie grinned at me, a mix of relief and joy evident in her eyes. "Thank you so much, Y/nnie. You were incredible!" she exclaimed, pulling me into a spontaneous hug.

"You were amazing too, Unnie! We nailed it!" I replied, returning the hug, overcome with a sense of accomplishment and gratitude for the shared experience.

The curtain descended, signaling the end of the performance, and as we made our way offstage, the rush of emotions lingered, leaving behind a memory of an unexpected but unforgettable moment shared between Jennie and me.

The concert's conclusion left us all buzzing with exhilaration and adrenaline. Backstage, the atmosphere crackled with excitement, but something extraordinary was brewing beyond the confines of the venue.

The moment the news hit the internet, it was as if a digital explosion had occurred. Social media platforms ignited with chatter, spreading like wildfire. Twitter was ablaze with hashtags about Jennie and me dancing together. TikTok users were replicating our moves, sparking viral challenges. Instagram was flooded with snapshots of our performance, capturing the dynamic energy between us. Even YouTube and Facebook were alight with discussions, videos, and posts about the unexpected duet.

The outpouring of support and excitement from fans across various platforms was overwhelming. Messages flooded in, expressing admiration for Jennie and me as a duo and celebrating the unexpected but exhilarating performance.

The sheer magnitude of the response was staggering, and amidst the whirlwind of notifications and trending posts, the bond between Jennie and me became a focal point of discussion, turning a spontaneous onstage collaboration into a moment that resonated deeply with our fans.

As the night progressed, the internet continued to buzz with excitement, echoing the unforgettable partnership between Jennie and me during her solo performance. The unexpected turn of events had created a lasting memory not only for us but for fans worldwide, solidifying a special connection that transcended the stage.

The aftermath of the concert was surreal. The internet was ablaze with videos and posts featuring me as Jennie's partner during her solo. Social media platforms exploded with reactions, and even Facebook, usually quieter on K-pop matters, couldn't escape the buzz.

Blinks everywhere were in a frenzy:

Blink1: "OMG DID YOU SEE?! Y/N WAS JENNIE'S PARTNER AT TODAY'S CONCERT!!!!"

Blink2: "I'M SO JEALOUS I WISH I WAS AT THAT CONCERT"

Blink3: "FUCK YOU YG"

The online reaction was overwhelming, and amidst the excitement, Jennie and I shared a moment backstage. She scrolled through her phone, revealing a message from Young Sang oppa: 'I quit! 😠😔Clearly, you guys have better chemistry🥲🙄.' His feigned anger and sadness were evident in the emojis he sent. We couldn't help but laugh at his playful antics, understanding it was all in good fun.

"Well, Y/n, I guess it's just you and me," Jennie said, a smirk playing on her lips. The camaraderie and the playful banter between us made the whole experience even more enjoyable.

Looking at Jennie, I mirrored her smirk. "Seems like it," I replied, sharing a knowing look with her. The bond we had formed during this unexpected turn of events made it clear that our partnership, on and off stage, was something special.

When Minah had invited you to her sorority’s house party with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, you had said yes without a second thought. It wasn’t your scene at all, but you and Minah shared a Sociolinguistics class that became considerably less boring once you sat down next to each other. 

Usually a Saturday night was spent with your two roommates, eating at the cheap fast food joint around the corner of your shared dorm: you were always back in the comfort of your own room before the clock struck 11pm. For the sake of experience you decided, why not. Maybe you’ll finally get a taste of that wild university life.

Now, at 11:05pm, you were crammed into a sorority house with at least 150 other people: the bottom of your sneakers sticky after stepping in an unidentified puddle on the floor, speakers blaring whatever Spotify selected for the RapCaviar playlist that week, and a bottle of lukewarm beer in your hand. It was fine, though. Minah had introduced you to some of her friends who you had hit it off with quite effortlessly. One girl called Lusher couldn’t stop gushing over your outfit, though by this point she had knocked back quite a few drinks.

You were having a good time.

But it became comedic once you headed to the kitchen with the group of girls to grab more drinks and were faced with a ghost from a not-so-distant past.

Bada Lee was leaning over the kitchen counter, smiling sweetly at a girl chattering animatedly in front of her. She looked just as attractive as you remembered her. Perhaps even more so.

Naturally, your first ever house party had to be hosted by a sorority she was seemingly a part of. 

Really. It was straight out of a comedy skit.

Bada and you had met on a dating app about a year ago: you saw a picture of a girl standing tall in a dance studio while donned in a sweater, jogger and Jordans, and you had instinctively swiped right. You don’t know what Bada had thought of your low effort selfie - posing inside a coffee shop - but it must’ve impressed her somehow. You were matched by the end of the day. 

“fuck marry kill: han so hee, bruce wayne, me” had been her introductory line. And despite your answer (you had, in fact, answered that you would kill Bada), you did end up fucking after spending your first date at a dim sum restaurant. 

This was, coincidentally, right after she had confessed she wasn’t interested in anything serious right now. She had still wanted to meet you however. You were, in her words, “too pretty not to take out”. 

You didn’t have a lot of time to mull over the initial disappointment, because she was fingers deep in you later that same day; lips attached to your neck and a rogue hand fondling your breast. Regrettably, the sex had been ridiculously good.

Chin up, though! It wouldn’t be the last time. 

The second “date” was spent watching a schlocky horror flick in her small dorm, before you ate her out on the couch until she was shaking and panting underneath you; bad movie and takeout pizza long forgotten. What you had initially disregarded as an incredible one-night stand became a biweekly hookup for the 5 months that followed.

The both of you had set rules in place, though these were mostly driven by Bada: this was just sex. She didn’t have the time or the “emotional bandwidth” for anything serious. 

The problem was that the lines got blurred pretty quickly. After a month you had begun meeting up without the pretense of sex hanging in the air. You would rent some more schlocky horror movies together and actually watch them, popcorn propped up in your laps. She would wait up for you after class to go grab some coffee, even if her own schedule was mismatched. You had cooked chicken noodle soup in a pinch at her dorm when she was down with the flu. She would slip her arms around your waist from behind and call you her “baby” in the softest voice.

And yet, the rules were simple. There were no strings attached to this arrangement, and you would be reminded in subtle ways. While you knew how she liked her eggs in the morning and that she’d much rather spend her time on watching terrible TLC reality shows than studying for her finals, you had no clue who her friends were or what hometown she grew up in. Sometimes your text messages would go unread for days at a time, but she would still post on Instagram. Bada’s Tinder profile picture would change every now and then, despite her continuously finding her way back into your bed.

But it had been fine. The rules were simple, and it never really drove you to heartbreak levels of sadness. At the very worst you had been annoyed by her flakiness, but you enjoyed her company too much to ever mention it. 

That was until you woke up one day to find yourself blocked on Instagram, her account set to private without a clarification or even a final goodbye. You had sent exactly one text asking if everything was alright, but it never went through. Her Tinder profile stopped updating. The message was more than clear, and you were not one to chase someone down. You were much too prideful for that.

A few days after being locked out of her life, your roommate (who had taken it upon herself to keep tabs on your past situationship) showed you a picture of Bada wrapped around a girl who was everything you were not: where she looked soft, you were sharp edges; where she was exuberant, you were placid. And then everything clicked. She had met someone who made her want to go steady, and that person was resoundingly not you. 

You met your roommate’s eyes with such a forced indifference, it almost felt defiant: “Good for her.” You had mumbled, unpausing the TLC reality show Bada and you used to watch together.

Thus, exactly as she had bulldozed into your life, she had promptly disappeared. You, too, stopped using Tinder. When your friends asked about your dating life, you would shrug and say you didn’t have the time for it. But truthfully, the pit in your stomach became a permanent fixture whenever the topic arose. 

You carried on with your life; there were no “stuffing yourself with chocolate” or “locking yourself in your bedroom sobbing”, but the hurt you felt was akin to pulling back when a candlelight grew bigger under the palm of your hand. You felt slighted and confused, frustrated that she never felt an explanation was warranted. But perhaps this was your problem: putting expectations on a woman like Bada, who had never done the same for you. The rules had been simple, after all.

It had been 7 months since then, and you had genuinely not thought of the girl in a long time. Yet there you stood, frozen in the doorframe as Minah and her friends rushed into the kitchen. The way Bada was looking at the girl in front of her almost reminded you of the way she looked at you on that faithful first date. The girl in question, however, looked nothing like the girlfriend she had introduced to the world months prior.

You were normal about it.

So normal that you had traced your steps back unnoticed and hid around the corner with your back pressed against the wall. A guy you didn’t know gawked at you like you were a safety risk, but you were too busy trying to think of an escape plan to really pay attention.

“Bada! We were looking for you earlier— Wait, Minah, where’d your friend go?” You heard Lusher’s voice question.

“Oh? I swear she was just behind me.”

“Friend?” The familiarity of Bada’s voice made your stomach churn. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

“Yeah! Don’t think you know her, she’s in my Sociolinguistics class— Seriously, where’d she run off to?”

“Sociolinguistics, you said?” 

You couldn’t listen to it any more: you downed your beer with a grimace, left the bottle on a nearby table and then pushed through the partygoers. The living room was currently packed with people dancing, playing beer pong or lazing on and around the couch. It was busy enough to drown yourself in the crowd and thus slip away from Minah’s searching eyes.

You found a free spot on the carpet in front of the television and sat down unceremoniously, legs crossed as the partygoers around you did not spare you a single glance; way more focused on things you weren’t doing. Like having fun, for example. 

You suddenly became much more conscious of how loud the music was. It was absolutely going to leave your ears ringing once you were back in the safety of your own bed. 

Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you sent your roommate a tentative text asking if she was still awake and could come pick you up. You would give it half an hour, you told yourself. If she didn’t get back to you beforehand, you were honest to god willing enough to call an Uber.

You kept track of your surroundings, dropping your head whenever you noticed Minah or her friends move around the room. You could’ve sworn they were calling for your name. Luckily no one else in the sorority house knew you, so your cover wasn’t blown.

It took 20 minutes.

You had been scrolling through your Instagram feed when a beer bottle was shoved under your nose. Flinching, as if you were snapped out of a trance, you looked up only to meet the eyes of the one person you had been trying to avoid.

Bada had come to sit next to you on the floor while you weren’t paying attention, and held out the drink with a soft smile. There was a point in time where you were obsessed with that smile, but right now it was ticking you off. 

“Hey there.” She sounded painfully nonchalant as if she were greeting an old friend, voice loud enough to be audible over the music. You suppose she was, if you had a history of making out with said old friend.

You felt like a cornered animal; your brain urging you to just get up, walk away and call an Uber, but your body remained frozen in place. You took the beer from her hand with little acknowledgment, breaking your shared eye contact, and took an immediate swig from the bottle.

“Hi.” You muttered bitterly, staring straight ahead.

“Never pegged you as a sorority girl,” She was still looking at you, smile unmoving as she brought her own drink to her lips, “Minah invited you?”

“Yup.” You popped the ‘P’, turning the bottle in your hand to keep your eyes occupied. “Could say the same for you.”

“I moved out of my dorm at the start of the semester. This place is much bigger, so the sorority formalities are only a small sacrifice.” Bada laughed good-naturedly, as her head tilted to the side to get a better look at you, wordlessly encouraging you to meet her halfway.

You kept your eyes on your drink, fighting the urge to ask her what the hell she could even want from you. “Cool.” 

“How have you been?”

Was she really going through all the steps of small talk 101? 

“Fine, what about you?” You took another swig from the bottle.

“Okay,” Bada replied vaguely, but the amiable smile did not leave her face, “What is it you did again- Political science?”

You tightened the grip on your bottle and scoffed, tongue digging in the hollow of your cheek. She knew damn well that you had a major in Anthropology. The smart thing to do would be to get up and leave, but you liked having a retort ready: something Bada had said she loved about you in the past.

“What is it that you did? Computer science?” You looked up at Bada, who was very much a Dance major. 

For the first time Bada’s smile faltered. Perhaps it was something about the look in your eyes or the combativeness in your body language, but it was enough to downturn the corners of her mouth. She put down her drink. “Sorry, I thought—” She began, suddenly unsure of what to say, “I was joking.” 

“I don’t know what you think.” You retorted plainly. The words, which were clearly not only meant for the current conversation you were having, hung in the air like a dark cloud. “Look, I didn’t know you were going to be here. So before you get the wrong idea—”

“I’m sorry.” Bada blurted, but her eyes were no longer scanning your face and rather seemed much more preoccupied with the sleeves of her hoodie, slender fingers picking at the fabric.

“You already said that.” You sighed, not letting up. You didn’t like the sudden rigidity in her posture, but it was hard not to feel like your anger was well founded. 

“I know you wouldn’t know I would be here. It’s not like I…” She glanced up at the ceiling and gestured vaguely with her hands. “It’s not like you would’ve had a way of finding out.”

You arched an eyebrow, quietly waiting for her to continue.

Bada pressed her lips together in a fine line, worrying the skin between her teeth as she pondered her next words carefully. “I’m sorry for the way I left things.” Finally, she turned to look at you, her eyes intense and pleading. For a second your mouth went dry, vaguely registering how close she was. You wanted to scoot away, but her stare was begging you to hear her out. “A lot was happening— A lot has happened. I was a complete coward, and so immature, I- I’ve regretted it since.” 

“You could’ve unblocked me any time.” You spoke slowly.

“I could’ve.” Bada agreed, scanning your face. “Maybe I’m still a coward. But then I saw you just now and…” Her lips parted as she mulled over her next words: “I don’t know. I just needed to talk to you.”

The bottle of beer was becoming lukewarm in your hold. You didn’t like seeing this Bada: guilt and shame written all over her face and shrunken into herself. It seemed completely unnatural to the girl you had come to know for those 5 months, who did everything but make herself smaller. You desperately wanted to tell her everything was okay, but you knew you would regret leaving things unsaid. Even now, when you think back to the moment where you found yourself locked out of all her accounts, you could feel your heart plummeting down your chest so vividly; as if you were experiencing it all over again.

“You didn’t owe me a lot,” You admitted, attempting to hide the quiver in your voice, feeling silly as soon as the words had left you, “but you could’ve said something. Anything.” 

“Yes.” Her voice was almost a whisper, eyes downcast. “I want to tell you everything that was going through my mind at the time but, maybe not now.” 

“Maybe not now.” You concurred. Not because you weren’t near desperate to know, but rather the timing didn’t feel right. You almost felt like she had to fight for the right to tell you what had happened. She should have to fight for your listening ear.

“You have actually been doing good?” Your eyes met again, and something about the way she spoke sounded hopeful; prodding.

“I’ve been good.” You replied, unsure of how to navigate the conversation any further. 

You had half expected her to get up and leave with that, perhaps deem this closure enough to go on with her night, but she stayed put. Bada took another sip of her beer, the way her shoulders sagged an indication of how uneasy she felt. Yet she stayed put. You took this moment to take her in with a more discerning eye: her hair loose and dyed in streaks as opposed to the blonde head of hair you had met her with. She was in an oversized t-shirt and baggy pants, bright tech sneakers carrying over the colors of her outfit. Just as she had been in the past, she was your polar opposite. You were all sleek lines, minimalism and soft colors, your belted loose-fitting dress pants not fitting the energy of the party whatsoever.

Then, you noticed something colorful on her forearm.

“Is that a breakup tattoo?” You blurted dryly, eyes glued to the intricate wave drawn on her skin.

Bada chuckled, holding out her arm with a smile. “Something like that.” 

“Never pegged you as the type.” You parroted the drawl of the same words she had used earlier, and Bada shook her head with a disbelieving grin. “When’d you get it?”

Her grin wavered, slowly morphing into something more calculating as she tilted her head to lock eyes with you once more: “About 7 months ago, give or take.”

————— ୨୧ —————

You barely noticed the doorknob pressing into your lower back as Bada held you down by your hips, your lips locked in a hungry kiss as the muffled sounds of the party downstairs thumped underneath you. Your fingers carded through her hair as she pushed her tongue past with a deep, shaky inhale through her nostrils. One of her hands came up to cradle the side of your face, deepening the kiss with the urgency of a starved person zeroing in on their last meal: if they wavered, it may be frisked away from under their nose.

The kiss was all spit and heavy breathing, mouths gliding together fluidly as if you had choreographed this in the past. Bada hummed approvingly into your mouth as your hands found the hem of her shirt and pulled upwards, eager to feel her bare skin again. She broke the kiss with a wet noise, albeit apprehensively, and let you tug the fabric off, leaving her in a mere sports bra. Your hands smoothed along her waist, reacquainting yourself as she licked into your mouth again without hesitation, now both hands cradling your face as if she was marveling at a treasure. 

A particularly eager suck on your tongue made you moan against her lips, and Bada parted the kiss with a smug grin, half-lidded eyes scanning your features in amazement. “Your turn.” She whispered, gaze back on your saliva-slicked lips. 

Before she could kiss you again, you crossed your arms over your stomach and pulled your sweater over your head, revealing a non-padded lace bra; the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination. Something about the look in Bada’s eyes deepened as you both kicked your shoes off in a hurry, and she made immediate work of your belt: tugging at it roughly, your hips pulled forward by the force she exerted, before unhooking the clasp and throwing the garment on the pile of clothes left in your shared wake. 

She planted one hand next to your head, against the wooden door, as the other one clutched onto your waist with a burning touch, effectively keeping you in place. Her parted lips attached themselves to the crook of your neck and she let her tongue swirl against the patch of skin, drawing a quivery exhale from you. Baring your neck further, you allowed her to mark you up without a second thought, and she seemed to take that job very seriously.

“You haven’t changed.” Bada noted against your skin, her breath skirting along your earlobe. Something about the tone of her voice sounded delighted at the fact, and you felt your lower stomach warm up impossibly more. 

She kissed her way to your collarbones, your skin shivering at the sensation and letting your hands find purchase atop her shoulders. You let your head fall back against the door with a quiet ‘thud’, back arching when she sucked another hickey right above your cleavage. Then, her hands came up to your chest, squeezing your breasts together and watching the way your cleavage deepened. She bent over and licked up a stripe along the slit, tongue digging into the crease. You pushed your chest out instinctively, sucking in your lower lip.

Bada locked eyes with you as she brought her lips to one of your breasts, letting her tongue lap across the lace fabric covering your nipples. Your hand came up to tuck her hair behind her ear, your movements delicate as she licked at your other nipple, forcing them to stiffen under the heat of her tongue. Her soft hums reverberated against your skin, her thumbs digging right below the hem of your bra and skirting along your underbreasts.

Impatiently you brought your hand up to your back and unclasped your bra. Bada moved away, watching the fabric drop to the floor with a bemused expression, but her hands immediately pressed over your breasts in a possessive manner, kneading the flesh before locking your lips once again. Teeth clashed together, the desperation in both your ministrations making the kiss so uncoordinated you were both left panting. She nudged her hips against yours, writhing against you as your name left her lips.

Your fingers meaningfully hooked underneath the straps of her sports bra. “Your turn.” You mimicked her request from earlier, and she obeyed with a pompous grin. 

But as usual, she had to one up you with a burning defiance in her eyes: she hooked her thumbs into her pants and tugged them off, underwear following suit. Eager hands grabbed onto your hips again as she rotated your positions; your back facing the bed.

“Try to keep up.” She whispered hotly against your mouth, the two of you immediately turning into a mess of limbs and unfocused kisses as she steadily walked you towards her bed. 

The back of your knees hit the edge of her mattress, and you toppled backwards, barely able to register your new position before nimble fingers began unbuttoning your dress pants. Resting on your forearms, you raised your hips to give her easy access and soon enough she pulled off your final garments with haste; leaving the both of you completely bare.

You scooted backwards as Bada climbed on top of you, your arms instinctively wrapping around her waist as she leaned down to kiss your lips, her ass resting in your lap. You had no time to feel skittish about the state you were in, much too familiar with the scenario as Bada’s well acquainted touch found its way to your breasts again, rolling your nipples between her fingers. You missed this, but you would never admit that to her.

Suddenly, she parted the kiss to instead look down at you contemplatively. You tilted your head, a snarky response on the tip of your tongue before the palm of her hand pressed down right above your chest, halting your actions. Her eyes scanned along your figure ravenously, and you, too, took her in: she was somehow both lean and soft, her hair falling over her shoulders like a curtain, strong thighs keeping your hips in place. She was beautiful.

“Do you trust me?” She asked, forefinger tilting your chin upwards.

“No.” You replied honestly, not breaking eye contact.

She grinned wider, finding tremendous joy in your words before she climbed off of you. Leaning over her bed, she began rummaging through her bedside table drawer as you sat up, watching her curiously. You heard a clanging noise when she pulled something silvery out, hiding it behind her back before you could properly register what it was.

“Turn around for me.” She requested, and because you were all bark and no bite, you obeyed.

As soon as your back was facing her, you felt her gentle touch grab a hold of both your wrists, crossing them against your lower back. You felt the cold press of something sharp close around them and lock into place, and heat pooled in your lower stomach, immediately recognizing what she was doing. 

You looked down at the handcuffs wrapped around your wrists over your shoulder before meeting Bada’s smug grin and blown pupils: as if her wildest dreams had just come true. She looked like she was ready to devour you. 

“How many girls wore this before me?” You asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She responded blithely, letting your fingers tangle together affectionately as she pressed a sweet kiss on your bare shoulder.

“Maybe I would.”

“Why does it matter if none of them look even half as good as you do?” She gave the cuffs a playful tug, nuzzling the back of your neck fondly before moving to lie down flat on her back; a hand pressed on your shoulder signaling you to stay put.

“And how many girls have you told the same thing?” You wondered loudly, unable to hide your own smile when Bada laughed at your words.

“Seems I have a lot to make up to you.” Her hands grabbed onto your hips and she began pulling you backwards. “Get on top of me, baby.”

Once again you obeyed because, well, she did have a lot to make up to you. And the way she called you 'baby' had you dripping.

Through her guiding motions, you scooted back on your knees until they were pressing down on either side of her head; Bada’s hands immediately came up to smooth along your curves until she cupped your ass, watching the jiggle as if she was hypnotized. Her eager touch almost made you purr, and you instinctively straightened your back to move all your weight to your legs, opening up for her as your arms were inebriated by the tight hold of Bada’s handcuffs.

“Good girl.” She crooned. And then, her hand came down to slap your ass. 

You let out a surprised gasp but didn’t move. Bada hummed from beneath you, appreciating your responsiveness and letting her nails scrape along the back of your thighs, feeling you shiver under her touch. 

“Unfair that you’re still so pretty from this angle.” Bada mumbled, mostly to herself. She placed her palms on your asscheecks and parted them, and you bent forward ever-so-slightly out of instinct, sinking deeper into the mattress. 

Bada cooed and before you realized it, her hand was on you. Her slender fingers dragged along your glossy folds and coated your heat with your own wetness. You sucked in your lower lip, effectively muffling a surprised moan, but leaned into her touch all the same. Then, she blew cold air against you, gloating over the shiver that ran down your spine.

“So pretty.” She reaffirmed, bringing her fingers to her lips and licking them clean, her other hand spreading your folds.

You almost expected her to ask you to start begging: she had always relished in breaking down your rebellious defenses until you would desperately beg her for more. This time, however, she seemed just as keen as you - if not more - to get her hands on you. Saliva-covered fingers pressed back against your folds and she began drawing circles across them with a maddeningly soft pressure. A shaky exhale left you, hands curling into fists at your lower back as you slowly began grinding your hips against her touch, hoping to find more friction. 

“That’s it.” She muttered, adding more pressure to her ministrations and beckoning you closer and closer, her other hand squeezing your ass.

With a particularly deep rub, you moaned her name and sank lower, the strain of holding yourself up while she was driving you mad almost unbearable. Bada groaned underneath your weight, basking in the way your hips gyrated with your heat so close to her face and she rewarded you by caressing her thumb along your entrance; circling it with more force as soon as she heard you keen. You felt heat course up your spine, immediately chasing her thumb through the grinding motions of your hips.

Bada, who had already found your most sensitive spot, giggled; prodding at your entrance with a forced carefulness she damn well knew you didn’t need. With a high-pitched whine, as the circling of her fingers against your clit sped up, you arched your back, wrists tugging at your handcuffs in frustration as she continued teasing you.

Finally, her thumb pressed into you, the circling of her wrist against you not pausing and you moaned, pushing your hips out impossibly further until Bada had to give your ass another forceful squeeze, urging you to stay put. She fingered you with delight and you felt yourself drip under her care, but what really made you twitch dangerously was the feel of her parted lips moving along your hip. She dug her teeth into your skin and slapped your ass once more, your body flinching inadvertently causing you to sink down on her finger with more force. 

You knew you looked like a desperate mess, mindlessly chasing down whatever she was willing to give to you, but it didn’t stop you from whining out her name, your lower stomach clenching.

“You better not be close already, baby.” You were surprised by how out of breath and wrecked she sounded while you hadn’t even gotten to properly touch her yet. You once again tugged at the handcuffs and you heard her tut. “So impatient.”

She removed her thumb and you almost cussed at her, but were quickly shut up when both hands moved to your hips in a vice grip, pulling you directly onto her open mouth. A moan got stuck in your throat and you almost faltered, nearly falling forward but forcing your legs to keep you upright. 

Bada began swirling her tongue along your folds as if she was parched, hands keeping your cheeks spread as she groaned hungrily against you. Bobbing her head up and down, she lapped at you, tongue digging into your folds before giving your clit a sharp suck; over and over again. 

“Bada…” You moaned, head dropping and only having half a mind to wonder if anyone downstairs could hear you. You realized you kind of didn’t care when Bada was making the kind of noises underneath as if you were doing her a favor.

You had stopped moving your hips, too stunned from pleasure to even consider it, until Bada began forcing you to do so; tight grip on your hips as she lightly bounced you up and down against her mouth. You began rocking back, cursing softly when Bada slurped under you, drinking at the wetness she continuously drew out of you.

You then noticed Bada had spread her legs with a hum, her own hips gyrating against nothing as she ate you out. She was getting off to this, and you felt yourself go all the more insane with want. She was so wet and you wanted to touch her so badly, but your shoulders started to strain through the position you were locked into.

“Bada,” You started, but another eager suck made you cut yourself off with a moan. “Let me—”

She caught her breath against you, chest heaving, still insufferable enough to find the energy to say: “Be my guest.” 

She dug right back in, this time her tongue prodding against your entrance, purposefully leaving you a despairing mess in your handcuffs.

You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of begging for a release from your confines so you dropped forward, face down and ass up, forcing Bada to sit up a little higher to keep her lips pressed against you. You heard her curse.

You didn’t waste any time teasing her, instead immediately closing your lips around her glistening folds. There was no need to toy with her, because her thighs twitched as soon as your lips met her heat, and you felt her moans vibrate against you. You sucked harshly on a bundle of nerves before collecting spit in your mouth and coating her with it, slurping around her breathlessly. Her thighs spread apart even further and you felt her lips falter against you, overcome with pleasure as she began grinding her hips up into your mouth. 

Soon you realized she was much closer than you had anticipated because she began sucking on your clit even harder, in complete and utter desperation, before digging her tongue into your entrance, nails pressing crescent marks into your asscheeks. You ground back against her mouth as you tried to keep a steady pressure on her, licking her with fast but deep strokes. You felt a familiar pressure tighten in your stomach and became involuntarily more erratic, muttering soft ‘uh-huh’’s to encourage her to keep going at the exact pace she was using on you. 

Bada whined against you, the muscles in her upper thighs tightening next to your head. “So close—” She gasped, and you closed your lips around her clit and began sucking. Simultaneously, she dug her tongue impossibly deeper into your entrance.

That’s what did you in: a moan got stuck in your throat as you felt your full body quiver at the orgasm that rippled through you. Bada let out a guttural moan underneath you, her thighs clenching around your head and toes curling as she shook incessantly. Rocking your hips back against her in a daze, she continued to suck on you through your orgasm as you lapped at her clit, soon enough the both of you shivering against each other from oversensitivity.

Panting, you dropped yourself next to her, your legs and shoulders straining from exertion. You were about to ask her to get the handcuffs off of you, until she crawled on top of you.

She was completely flushed, bangs sticking to her forehead, nipples perked and chest heaving as she pinned you down against her pillows, your wrists still pressed into your lower back. 

“Not done.” Bada managed to gasp out as she swept down for a needy kiss, your tongues meeting messily through parted lips. You did not know where she was gathering the energy from, but her hands were back on your hips to slide you further down the bed. 

She threw her right leg over yours and you immediately realized what she was trying to do. “Can you still cum like this?” She wondered coyly, angling her hips against yours before pulling your own leg up, hooking your heel over her shoulder.

Her hold on you was burning, almost having the potential to leave bruises behind, and you didn’t even know how you felt yourself getting wet all over again. The handcuffs were digging painfully into your lower back but you didn’t care, your lips parted in anticipation as Bada stared you down with such a deep longing it made your stomach coil. She twisted her head and pressed a kiss to your ankle, never breaking eye contact with you, before grinding her hips against you in a tentative manner; her folds gliding flush against yours.

You bit down on your lower lip as you felt her wetness grind against you, a quiet whimper slipping past and the smile on Bada’s face widened, eyes turning into crescent moons despite her own excitement. 

Yeah, you could still cum like this, and she knew it. 

She began working up a pace against you, first slow and deep, and then letting it build up to something faster. The way your mounds met each other had your eyes rolling back, soft moans falling from your lips as your hips ground against each other. Never once did her eyes leave you and you almost felt drunk off her attention, eyes falling shut as she hummed in pleasure.

The bed shook, headrest slamming against the wall over and over again with the quickening of her pace. Bada brought a hand to your breast, kneading it into her palm as she spoke lowly, her own eyes half-lidded in exhilaration: “Can anyone else fuck you this good?”

Your lips parted in a gasp, your desire so intense you didn’t even know what you wanted to say. You wanted to say something snarky, but the urge to burst into tears and tell her ‘only you can’ closed around your throat like an invisible hand. Bada’s head fell back as both of your hips moved impossible faster; her tongue dragging messily along your ankle in a complete daze as you panted her name.

“Answer me.” She gasped, the hand that was previously preoccupied with your breast coming up to grab a tight hold of your chin. And as if to prove her point, she began fucking you. Hard and deep, your body shaking with every thrust. 

Your brain was short-circuiting and you shook your head, eyes shut tight. “N- no…” 

Then, her hand moved to your throat squeezing lightly, but possessively. “Say it.”

Feeling her hips falter, you panicked and cried underneath her: “No one can fuck me this good!”

Bada hummed approvingly, picking up the pace again and sliding her hand to the back of your neck. “That’s my baby.” She leaned down, your leg still hooked over her shoulder and stretching along with her movements, yet the pace at which she fucked into you never wavered. “Stick your tongue out.”.

Disoriented, you arched your neck and obeyed, her own tongue gliding against yours in such a filthy manner you became lightheaded. Then, she closed her lips around the wet muscle with a moan, before meeting your mouth in a full kiss that was more exchanging saliva than anything else.

She parted and moved back, her hips pausing momentarily as she looked to where your vaginas met. Before you could object at her lack of movement, she lowered her head and slowly let her spit dribble from her lips and fall onto your folds. Immediately, she picked up the pace again, watching the way the added lubrication made the two of you slide together even easier. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.

Bada met your gaze with a wolfish grin and immediately switched gears to an unforgiving pace, the sound of wetness and skin slapping together filling the room as you couldn’t even register the music that was still playing downstairs. You felt the pressure in your upper thighs build up again at a dizzyingly fast pace, and cursed under your breath.

“Please…” You gasped as you threw your head back, unsure what you were begging for but writhing your hips against hers so frantically the message should be anything but unclear.

“Am I gonna make you come again, baby?” Bada panted, slamming herself harder against you.

You nodded, feverishly: “I’m gonna- I need—” But the words died on your lips as your lower stomach folded dangerously. You needed to come. You needed Bada to make you come. 

A palm flattened between your breasts as Bada leaned down on you impossibly harder, keeping you in place as her thrusts took your breath away. Without your body giving you another warning, you orgasmed a second time with Bada’s name in your mouth, legs spasming in her hold as she forcibly held you down; taking in every second of the ecstasy that overtook you with such a warmth in her gaze you almost felt yourself overcome with the urge to burst into tears again. 

“So beautiful…” She whispered. “That’s it.” Her hands caressed up and down your thighs, whispering praises into the air to will the heaving of your chest away, feeling your heartbeat under the palm of her hand. 

Finally, Bada dropped herself onto the bed next to you entirely out of breath with a self-satisfied grin, officially having spent the last bit of energy that was left in her. You watched her catch her breath with a fond gaze, wanting to reach out and hold her but being held back by the jingle of the handcuffs.

Bada snapped out of her stupor, almost appearing flustered for leaving you in such a state, and helped you sit up with a soft encouragement, promptly freeing you from your handcuffs. You felt a sharp strain in your shoulders as you shook them loose, a little dumbfounded when you noticed the red marks around your wrists.

Bada had noticed it as well and gently grabbed a hold of your hands, thumbs caressing along the bruises with a touch so careful it seemed she thought you would shatter. Slowly, she brought your wrists higher and began pressing delicate kisses against them. 

“Sorry…” She said, sheepishly, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to scold her. Instead, you looked back at her with a dazed expression, heart constricting in your chest. You hadn’t seen this level of gentleness from her before.

Leaning over her bed, Bada grabbed an unopened bottle of water and uncapped it before handing it to you. You accepted it wordlessly, her actions making you aware of how parched your mouth felt. 

Taking big gulps, you hoped to ease away the tension building up in your chest. Perhaps it was due to your post-orgasm state, but you felt anxiety spike up your heart rate as your head flooded with all kinds of thoughts. Was this a one-off? Was she going to ghost you again? Momentarily you felt like an idiot for even landing yourself in such a position, but before you could climb out of bed Bada flipped her blanket open.

“Tired?” She asked, picking up on how quiet you had become but assuming it was due to exhaustion.

You nodded timidly and crawled under the blanket with her, Bada slotting herself against you like a missing puzzle piece. Her fingers found the bruise at your lower back, where the handcuffs had been scraping against, and drew soothing circles against the skin. She mumbled something about having ointment for bruises, but the both of you were too slumped to get out of bed.

You nestled back against her despite the way your head yelled at you to take your leave, much too enthralled with the way her arm curled around your waist protectively. Bada giggled when she felt you snuggle closer and pressed a soft kiss to your neck, inhaling your scent with a hum. 

The music downstairs had stopped and the house seemed quiet, the last guests likely having left ages ago, so all you could focus on was Bada’s soft breathing which slowed down by the minute. Your own eyelids began to feel droopy, too, and right before the both of you fell asleep, you felt her hold on you tighten.

————— ୨୧ —————

Your eyes snapped open, heart hammering in your chest as you became aware of your surroundings. Bada’s arms were still around you, loosely, as she slept soundly next to you. It was still dark outside but you saw the early beginnings of sunrise setting in the distant sky, signaling it was the very early morning. As your hands came up to rub your eyes, you became aware of the ache in your wrists and mentally cursed yourself. 

This was easily the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done: letting yourself be lured right back into Bada’s bed after she had passed you off like you meant nothing. You couldn’t believe how naive you had been; how enchanted you were by her every time. Staying here was setting yourself up for heartbreak, when she would inevitably ask you why you were still at the sorority. 

You needed to leave.

Images of the night you had spent together flashed in front of your eyes, and you felt your lower stomach heat up.

You needed a lobotomy.

Slowly you grabbed a hold of Bada’s arm curled around your waist, the girl still sleeping serenely and entirely unaware of your panicked state, and moved it off of you. You paid close attention to her breathing, which remained even, and then deemed it safe enough to crawl out of bed. Your legs were wobbly once you stood, the strain caused by the position you had underneath her from the night before hitting you like a truck. You winced, groggily looking around as your eyes got used to the darkness and trying to navigate where your clothes had gone.

Before you could move to the other corner of the room, you felt a hand curl around your forearm. You gasped in surprise, whipping your head around to find Bada peering up at you through sleepy eyes. Your chest constricted painfully. 

“Where ‘r you going?” She slurred, waking up slowly as the grip on your arm tightened.

“I…” You began, but the words got stuck in your throat once you saw the realization fall over her face. She frowned.

“Please don’t go,” Bada pleaded, voice much clearer this time though still hoarse with sleep, “Stay the night.” 

“Bada, I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” 

“Please,” She repeated, and she sounded so heartbroken you could die. “Let’s start over.”

You gazed back at her in wonder, trying to search her face for more clarity but all you found was too much. The look in her eyes was so vulnerable, so desperate.

She gave your arm a tug and whispered: “We can start over. Please get back in bed.”

You carefully moved your arm out of her grip, but she let go easily: not because she wanted to, but because she understood it wasn’t fair to hold you hostage. She wasn’t crying, but the way she looked up at you made you wish she was.

“I just- I’m going to use the bathroom.” You mumbled and immediately willed yourself to look away. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

Your throat closed up painfully as you walked to the other side of the room and bent over to pick up your clothes. As you pulled your underwear on, you felt Bada’s prodding eyes in your back. With the rest of your clothes in your arms, you walked over to the door without sparing her a single glance, unlocked it and stepped out into the hallway. You clenched your jaw to hold back the tears from falling. The room remained quiet. 

You found the bathroom right across Bada’s bedroom, and sat down on the shut toilet seat with your hands in your hair. You knew that you weren’t being totally unreasonable— so why did you feel like the worst, most cruel person in the world? 

With a deep, shaky sigh you pulled your phone out of the pocket of your dress pants: it was 5:30am on the dot. Your roommate hadn’t responded to your text message yet, indicating that she had been fast asleep the entire time. 

As you searched for an Uber in the area willing to drive this early, your phone dinged with a familiar notification. 

Tinder.

You forgot you still had that installed.

You tapped the notification bubble and a familiar chat room opened up; one of Bada’s mirror selfies staring back at you at the top of the screen.

Today 5:36am fuck marry kill: kim tae ri, dick grayson, me

A breathless laugh escaped you.

Suddenly, you were filled with a clarity, thinking of the wave tattooed on her forearm.

You were willing to take the plunge.

Slowly, you stood up, leaving your clothes behind on the bathroom floor and headed back into Bada’s room. She was wide awake, face lit up by her phone screen as she looked up at you in apparent shock and gratitude.