#megan

she had met the man, mr. l/n, when she was a little kid, and she faintly remembered him having a kid around her age, not that she could remember anything more than that.

“daniela, when we get there, you must show mr. l/n respect, ok?” her father said, stern, his hands gripping the wheel of his bmw suv tightly. 

“but dad—“ she started to protest before he cut her off.

“ah, ah, ah. i don’t wanna hear it, young lady, you’re lucky enough that your mother and i aren’t sending you to military school. or something” before he could lecture her any farther, he was turning the truck down a worn gravel road.

dust flew up with each slow movement of his tires, and he’d definitely have to get it cleaned to get the dirt now clinging to his shiny black paint job off.

“but dad—“ you started, to which you were promptly cut off.

“look, it ain’t your fault she’s coming here, ok? but i told mr. avanzini we’d take care of his daughter”

“but don’t you remember, when we were kids, she used to take my hat and throw it in the dirt just ‘cause i called her pretty?” you tried to remind your father, now somewhat scared to meet this girl you hadn’t seen since you were about 9 years old.

he chuckled, patted your back, and looked out the window. “they’re here, best be polite to ‘em, you hear me?”

“yes dad”

the two of you walked out front of the country house. it was two stories and white with pale blue shutters around each window, the paint fresh since you had redone it about 3 months ago, simply because you were bored. you step onto the wraparound wooden porch with a soft thud of your boots, making your way to the top of the gravel driveway just in time to see a fancy car pull in.

you take your hat off out of respect, and the moment that door swings open, your hat falls to the ground.

you had been expecting some mean looking girl with frizzy curls and a bright red dress, because that’s exactly what she looked like last time she met you.

what you weren’t expecting was…. this.

daniela stepped out of the car, each curl meticulously coiled and laid upon her shoulders in a way that looked effortless but must’ve taken hours. 

she had dressed for the occasion, or at least had tried to— she wore designer knee high boots, the smallest light wash jean shorts you’ve ever seen, and a white baby tee that barely covered her chest, something written on it in red rhinestones.

she pulled her sunglasses off, placing them on top of her head as she looked around. you took her in, noticing how tall the heel of her boots were, meaning she’s probably a lot shorter than you are even with her shoes on. 

you didn’t have long to look at her before you were snapped back to reality by her scoff, reminding you to pick up your fallen hat.

“dad, this is funny, i get it, i fucked up, lets go home now” she said, clearly thinking this was some kind of joke.

her father stayed silent, walking around the trunk of the car and opening it to pull out her louis vuitton suitcases. 

“daniela, come help with these” 

she walked over, each step planned and perfect, her head held high. by the time he had helped her bring her luggage to the porch, with the exception of the one small duffel she was holding, you were being engulfed in a bear hug.

you pat mr. avanzini’s back awkwardly as he yammered on about how much you’ve grown up, and then luckily, his attention shifted to your father and they were already walking off to go have a look around.

you watched them head off until you felt something being pressed into your chest.

you looked forwards and saw daniela giving you her duffel bag, letting go the moment your arms reached to steady it. 

“don’t drop it” was the only thing she said before walking into your house, the heels of her fancy boots clicking on the wooden floors.

you stand there, dumfounded and holding her bag, which was way heavier than it looked.

after a few paces she turns back to you, rolls her eyes, and says “are you gonna show me around or what? cmon farm girl, i don’t have all day”

the next morning, she comes down around noon when you’re already having your lunch, your boots dusty from the horses.

her curls fall over her shoulders in ringlets, messy but somehow still perfect. she was in a white tank top that made it obvious she had no bra on under and a pair of sleep shorts that barely covered her ass.

you do what you can to restrain yourself from looking, trying to stop the blood from rushing straight down to your dick as you look at your plate, which is empty apart from the crumbs.

“i was hoping you’d be up soon” you say with a smile, trying your best to treat her kindly because, at the end of the day, she was gonna be here. for a while. 

“the horses are about ready, if you’d like to go for a ride” you tell her, standing to wash your plate off in the sink.

she scoffs, a sound you’ve become familiar with in the past 24 hours. “isn’t there anything better to do around here? like a mall or something?”

“the closest mall is about an hour away… and it’s more of a… collection of stores along the side of the road” you answer.

she groans in annoyance, sitting down in one of the chairs at the dining table. 

“if you wanna get dressed, i was serious about taking you out with the horses” you offer again, a part of you hoping she’d say yes.

“absolutely” daniela says, smiling in a way that’s too good to be true.

“really?” you say, face lighting up in excitement

“yeah, when hell freezes over!” she says in that same cheery voice with the fake smile before grabbing her phone and heading back up the stairs.

it takes her about a week to finally give in.

you were outside, brushing the sides of your favorite horse. he was brown with white around her hooves, and a light colored mane and tail. you had just finished doing the other 3 horses, so you were sweating and your boots were already dirty.

you were in some old white t shirt that was a lot closer to being cream now, and a pair of dark wash jeans that were tattered at the ends, a red worn baseball hat on top of your head.

your father had announced he was going into town for the day and would be back tomorrow, something about one of his friends visiting, so the house was empty and daniela was bored. 

she walked in, wearing a pair of flare jeans with a flannel top that was tied in the middle of her chest over a white crop top, and announced herself with a simple “god, it stinks in here”

“that would be the horse shit” you answer, not taking your eyes off the brush or bothering to turn and see her, assuming she was here to bother or tease you like usual.

“how do you even ride one of those?” daniela asks with a scoff, trying to sound less interested than she is. 

“why, you interested?”

you smiled, finally turning to see her, your eyes raking up and down her body subconsciously.

she leaned back against the stall door, the fabric over her chest stretching tighter, and she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t checking you out either.

the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed dryly from just the sight of her, a reaction she was used to from the people she interacted with at school but somehow felt different coming from you. the way your hands were splayed over the brush, the sleeves on your arm clinging to the muscle there, the sweat dripping off your temple…

“it can’t be that hard, can it?” she finally said when she was done looking you over.

“i can teach you” you say, genuinely getting excited again though mentally preparing yourself to get shot down like usual.

“ok”

“look, i know you think horses are— wait, what?” you say, freezing and nearly dropping the brush.

“i said ok, it’s not like i just told you that you won the lottery or something, relax” she rolls her eyes and starts walking to you behind the horse.

“woah, woah, woah! rule one, never do that!” you say, quickly pulling her away from the back so that she doesn’t get kicked. 

you guide the horse out of the stall, hitching it to the post outside the barn as you lay the saddle pad and then the actual saddle. 

you grab the stool from the corner of the room and position it next to the side of the horse, offering her your hand that wasn’t holding the horse.

she reluctantly steps forwards, putting her hand in yours as she steps up the stool. her mind goes fuzzy for a moment, thinking about nothing other than the way your hand felt against hers— large and calloused and warm— until she’s snapped out of it by you saying “you have to take another step to get on the horse”

by the time she’s finally on, you undo the tie and kick the stool aside, swinging yourself onto the horse effortlessly, sitting behind her. you have the reins in your hands, making your arms brush against her sides with each adjustment you guide the horse to do.

the horse starts moving, faster than daniela had anticipated, causing her to lean back into you without meaning to.

she tries to ignore the weird feeling in her stomach as you go, attempting to focus on the dirt on your arms instead, but her mind keeps drifting to the fact that she actually likes the feeling of you close to her like this.

you lead the horse through the trees that start at the edge of your fields, and she hates the way her hands rest over your forearms, tightening every time the horse jolts or steps on a rock.

after about what felt like an eternity for her but was really 20 minutes, you reach a small river and stop for the horse to drink.

you dismount, then help her off and tie him to a tree. you kneel next to the river, dipping your hands in and bringing some to your face to wash off the sweat, sighing in relief of the cool water.

“cmhere” you say with a small laugh, head turning to face her.

“absolutely not” she says, though she can’t fight the smile tugging onto the corners of her lips.

“it feels good, i promise” you say, smiling, and using one of the rocks for leverage to stand.

you offer her your hand, and just as she’s about to take it, you slip.

it happens so quickly, the fall, the splash, your cry of pain.

and just as fast as it happened, she’s running over. daniela forgets her nice clothes and the fact that she’s supposed to hate you and steps into the edge of the river.

you start righting your body, but it’s clear you’re in pain, your hand clutching your wrist.

she reaches for you, her small hands finding their way to your waist in an attempt to steady you. “y/n, are you ok?” she says, helping you out of the water, her voice distressed as she guides you to sit on the ground underneath a tree.

you wince before saying “i’m fine, promise”

“don’t lie to me, i can see you’re in pain” she says, crossing her arms as she kneels next to you. her voice softens before she adds “please, let me help”

your eyes meet hers and see something you’ve never seen before— gentleness and care, and you almost can’t believe that daniela actually cares about you. you give her your hand, and she holds it tenderly, and still you hiss with pain.

“i can still ride, let’s just” another wince “let’s just get home, ok? we can take care of it there”

the moment you two step in the house, she drags you up to your bedroom and pushes you gently by the shoulders to sit on the edge of your bed.

you don’t protest, too dazed from the way she’s handling you to care.

she comes back with a wrap from the first aid box you keep in the kitchen and begins wrapping it from the base of your wrist up your hand and back down, fastening it with a pin.

“do you think it’s broken or something?” she asks, standing between your legs as you stay seated.

“no, it just feels sprained” you pause, flexing your wrist and then immediately wince at the action, regretting your movements “pretty badly though”

“you ok?” she asks, softer than before.

“mhm” you say, eyes fighting to stay on your hand instead of her.

she tilts your chin to force you to look at her, not hard, but enough that you understand she’s serious.

“look at me” her nails press into your jaw, not intentionally or painfully, but you feel it. “why are you being so weird?” she mumbles, eyes searching yours.

you swallow as she stares at you, trying to will all the blood in your body to stop from rushing straight downwards, but it’s no use.

her eyes follow the column of your throat as you swallow and continue downwards until they land on the crotch of your jeans. 

“oh” she whispers, a smile forming on her face, but it’s not like the ones you’ve seen before— the ones that signal her about to cause trouble or do something, this is a genuine one.

daniela’s hand moves to fully cup your cheek now, her other one resting on your shoulder as she looks into your eyes once more. 

your face is red now, the heat creeping from the tips of your ears down your neck.

“is that from me?” she whispers, her voice lower with something that you can’t seem to understand— desire?

you look away from her eyes but nod, blushing even more if that was possible.

she turns your face back to her “i thought i made it clear i wanted you to look at me”

your eyes meet hers once more and she notices the way you look at her. she had always assumed it was just physical attraction, like the way everyone else used to look at her, but she sees genuine care in you.

she moves both her hands to your shoulders and then straddles you, her pristine jeans brushing against your dirty ones, and your brain short circuits, hands hovering in the air awkwardly.

her fingers move to play with the hair at the nape of your neck as she leans in, breath fanning across your lips as she whispers “you’ve never done this before, have you?

you shake your head no.

she uses one hand to guide yours to her waist, and you wince as your sprained wrist touches her skin. 

“shit, i forgot, are you ok?” she says, snapped out of her mood and now worried about you.

“i’m fine” you say softly, hands resting on her waist fully now, even though it hurts a little bit.

“if you’re hurt, we don’t have to—“ she starts, then cuts herself off mid sentence “oh my god, how did i forget? god, your hand, i—“

“dani” you say softly, and your voice brings her out of her ramble “i’m fine, i promise”

you tentatively rest your forehead against hers “i’m ok” you whisper.

your eyes are shut, and you’re so close she can feel each breath and beat of your heart. before she can overthink it, she presses a featherlight kiss to your lips.

you don’t move your lips, unsure what to do, but your fingers curl into her skin.

she keeps her lips pressed against yours, soft and still, until you pull her closer by the waist.

daniela’s hands tangle in your hair as she starts to move her lips against yours, and you clumsily reciprocate.

if she wasn’t so insanely attracted to you, not just in this moment but in general, mixed with the way she cares about you, she’d probably stop you and correct your technique, but she couldn’t care less in this moment.

she licks your bottom lip, then gently moves her tongue into your mouth. you let out a low groan at the feeling and pull her impossibly closer, her clothed core pressing against the buckle of your belt.

she pulls away, gasping for air.

“was i… did i do it right?” you whisper, breathless and holding her close.

“fuck, you--" she takes a deep breath, trying to act like the consistent pressure of you holding her onto your belt buckle without meaning to combined with the feeling of you hard underneath her isn’t driving her crazy.

“dani?” you say softly, releasing your grip a bit as you start to worry.

“just kiss me” she mumbles, kissing her again as she presses closer, trying to signal you to hold her tighter again.

somehow her signal gets through to you, and you hold her close.

she grinds down onto you, and both of you moan at the sensation. she keeps rubbing herself over your buckle, the metal pressing up against her clit through her jeans.

you forget the sprained wrist you have and gently help her move on you, your strength making it almost effortless. she relaxes into your touch, trusting you fully as your tongue explores her mouth with inexperience.

she feels a little guilty, knowing she should be taking care of you, but lets you continue, knowing how pent up she’s been since she got here over a week ago.

you’re stronger than you think you are, so you’re pulling her onto the belt with so much pressure it makes her dizzy in the best way possible.

after a few more of these movements, her thighs start to shake and she grips your shoulders, breaking the kiss.

“don’t stop, please, don’t stop” she moans against your lips, head falling back as she trusts you to make her feel good.

you’re eager to please her, so you follow her words and don’t stop, until she cries out, body tensing, and she cums in her pants.

her nails dig into your shoulders, leaving marks as she grips you like her life depends on it.

she falls limp in your arms, and you release your hold on her waist, wrapping your arms around her instead to hug her.

you ignore the wetness seeping through her jeans onto yours, holding her close and gently stroking her back as she calms down.

once she’s stable enough, she pulls her head back a bit to look at you. you’re sweating a bit, cheeks flushed, a small but proud smile on your lips.

she can’t resist you, pressing another kiss to your lips simply because she can. “you’re cute, you know that?” she whispers, fingers tracing your chest.

you nuzzle into her neck, holding her close, pressing a gentle kiss to the base of it.

her hand trails down your chest to your stomach to rest at the top of your jeans.

“you don’t have to” you whisper, nuzzling closer. “i know you’re tired”

“i want to” she replies, kissing the top of your head “can i?”

“yeah” you mumble into her neck.

her fingers gently unbuckle your belt, then undo the button of your jeans, and then the zipper.

“lift your hips” she says gently, and you do, helping her get your pants down to your ankles, leaving you in your boxers.

she kisses you, softly this time, and her hands toy with the hem of your shirt before tugging on it, silently telling you that she wants it off. 

you break the kiss, pulling it over your head. her lips attach to yours again as her nails gently scrape down your hard stomach, and one of your hands gently moves to her shirt.

“can i?” you whisper, and she nods, pulling back.

she takes the flannel off first and then the crop top, leaving her in a lacy white bra that contrasts with her tanned skin. your breath hitches, and you gently bring one hand up. she nods at you for consent, and your hand cups her boob tentatively.

“that’s it, baby” she murmurs, pressing her lips to yours again before pulling your boxers down enough to free your length.

her hand wraps around the base, slowly pumping it once. you let out a low groan, head immediately dropping to rest on her shoulder as she strokes you.

you squeeze her hip with one hand, the other still on her boob. you try to adjust to the feeling of a hand other than your own on your length as she pumps a few more times, thumb moving to spread the precum that’s leaking out of your slit.

“you’re bigger than i thought you’d be” she says softly, her other hand in your hair, scratching your scalp softly. “my poor baby doesn’t know what to do with it, huh?” she coos.

you nod weakly, moaning into her shoulder as her thumb presses your slit.

“don’t worry, baby, we have all summer, ok?” she kisses the top of your head as her hand speeds up.

“dani, i’m close” you whisper into her neck, mixed with another groan. the coil in your stomach gets tighter and tighter as you try to hold yourself back, embarrassed to be so close to cumming in such a short amount of time.

“already?” she says, laughing softly. “it’s ok, baby, i like knowing that i affect you this much”

you hide your burning face even more in her shoulder as she feels your cock twitch in her hands.

“you wanna cum, baby? go ahead” 

that’s all it takes to push you over the edge you had been teetering on, your vision whiting out at the sides as you groan, low and loud, face pressing into her shoulder as you spill ropes of cum onto her hand and your stomach.

“fuck dani” you groan as she pumps you through it, both hands now on her waist to squeeze as the blissful feeling takes over your body.

she pulls your face out of her neck and presses gentle kisses to your sweaty temple and flushed cheeks.

“thank you” you whisper, repeating it over and over again as you finally come down from your high.

“no need to thank me” she says softly, scratching your scalp softly again, her cum covered hand resting on your thigh.

“how long are you staying with us?” you murmur softly, not letting go of her waist as you hug her close.

It was well past 10:00 pm, and Megan was finally lying in bed. She was completely ready to just lounge around and lose herself in her favorite shows when, out of nowhere, a low, vibrating bass rattled through her walls.

It was her neighbor, Y/N, blasting music at a shockingly loud volume for this time of night. At first, Megan tried to endure it, hoping it was just a passing phase. Instead, it devolved into twenty minutes of excruciating torture as the same Bad Bunny song played on an agonizing loop—accompanied by Y/N loudly screaming the lyrics.

Megan had lived in Apartment 4B for two years, accustomed to the quiet, predictable rhythm of her hallway. That rhythm was completely disrupted six months ago when Y/N moved into 4C.

Their first meeting wasn't exactly romantic. Megan had been struggling to drag a massive, flat-packed vanity mirror up the narrow stairwell when she heard a cheerful, slightly breathless voice behind her: "Need a hand, or are you planning on making that mirror a permanent stair feature?"

That was Y/N. She had just spent the last four hours hauling heavy boxes of books along with her other stuff into her new place, yet she still had the energy to effortlessly grab the other end of Megan’s box, flashing a warm, easygoing grin that made Megan’s chest tighten in a way she hadn't anticipated.

Since that day, they had settled into a comfortable friendship. They weren't best friends who texted every day, but they were far more than strangers. They knew each other's schedules; Y/N knew Megan had late-night dance rehearsals, and Megan knew Y/N was prone to sudden, late-night bursts of energy. They shared quick, lingering chats by the mailboxes, held the elevator doors for one another, and exchanged sleepy, soft smiles when they crossed paths in the mornings.

For six months, there had been a quiet, unspoken gravity pulling them together. Megan had spent countless nights wondering if the extra-long eye contact they shared in the lobby meant something, or if she was just projecting.

But tonight, as the clock ticked past 10:00 pm, Megan’s patience—and her secret crush—were about to be put to the test.

Deciding she had finally had enough, Megan sat up, threw off her covers, and marched out of her apartment to confront her neighbor.

Standing in front of Y/N’s door, she raised her fist and knocked loudly.

Thud, thud.

Nothing.

Her annoyance spiking, she hammered against the wood again—three angry, heavy knocks. Suddenly, the music cut off, and the door swung open.

Megan opened her mouth, ready to give Y/N a piece of her mind, but the words immediately caught in her throat. Standing in front of her was a very sweaty, very out-of-breath Y/N.

After a few seconds of heavy silence, Y/N blinked and cleared her throat. "Uhhh... hey, Megan?"

Megan snapped out of her daze, her fiery, confrontational energy instantly evaporating. "H-hey, Y/N. I... I was just wondering if you could please turn the music down?"

"Of course! Have I been bothering you, Megan?" Y/N asked, pulling the collar of her shirt up to wipe the sweat from her face—completely oblivious to the fact that she was showing off a stark view of her abs.

"Oh? No, no! You h-haven't, I just..." Megan’s voice trailed off. Her eyes helplessly raked up and down Y/N’s frame before she desperately tried to pivot. "...I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing?"

"Oh, I'm doing fine," Y/N smiled.

You certainly are, Megan thought, her brain short-circuiting.

"I’ve just been working out, is all." Y/N turned slightly, giving Megan a clear view into her apartment. There wasn't much to see—just a yoga mat laid out on the living room floor, the faint glow of the TV illuminating the space alongside a blinking Bluetooth speaker.

Suddenly, Y/N slapped her own forehead. "Oh! I'm so stupid. Would you like to come in?"

"Oh, that’s really not—see, I just wanted to see how you were... and—"

"No, no, Megan, please come in!" Y/N insisted, swinging the door wide open to invite her inside before walking over to flick on the overhead lights, instantly brightening the room.

"Could I get you something to drink, Megan? Tea, coffee?" Y/N offered warmly.

Megan stood in the middle of the living room, hovering awkwardly for a moment as she waited for an invitation to sit.

"Megan, please, take a seat," Y/N added quickly, gesturing toward the couch. "I'm just going to change out of these sweaty clothes, and I'll be right back with you."

"Thanks," Megan smiled politely, sitting down on the couch.

As soon as Y/N disappeared into her bedroom, Megan’s eyes began to wander around the apartment.

She immediately noticed a theme: hanging prominently on the walls were several intricate Formula 1 LEGO cars, surrounded by a bunch of other F1-related collection

Damn, she must be obsessed, Megan thought to herself, amused.

A minute later, Y/N emerged from her room in fresh clothes. Spotting Megan staring intently at the walls, she followed her line of sight straight to the LEGO sets and let out a self-conscious chuckle.

"Oh, those? I, uh... I'm not quite as obsessed with F1 as I was maybe two years ago," Y/N admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. "But I still follow the updates and watch the races."

"Ah! For a second there, I thought you were a total sports fanatic," Megan laughed softly. "You have so many of them on your walls, anyone would think that."

"Yeah, it’s a bit much, isn't it?" Y/N smiled, looking at the display. "People found out about my brief hyperfixation and just absolutely ran with it. For a while, every Christmas and birthday, I’d just get flooded with F1 stuff. Honestly, though, I'm grateful. Those LEGO sets are expensive!"

Y/N offered Megan a glass of water before sinking into the couch, leaving a respectful amount of space between them. She threw an arm over the back of the cushions, lounging comfortably as she tilted her head. "So... you sure you just came over here to check on me?"

Megan blinked, her brain momentarily stalling. She shook her head slowly. "No..." Then, correcting herself, she gave a quick nod. "Yes?"

Finally, she let out a defeated sigh and confessed, "Honestly, Y/N, I came over here to yell at you for blasting your speaker. It is almost eleven o'clock, for Christ's sake."

Y/N let out a low chuckle at the honest confession, not looking bothered at all. "I honestly didn't realize it was that loud. I was just way too in the zone to notice. I'm really sorry, Megan," she said, softening her expression and turning on her best, most persuasive puppy-dog eyes.

Leaning in just a fraction closer, Y/N asked, "What can I do to make it up to you?"

Megan’s breath hitched. In the quiet of the apartment, the space between them suddenly felt incredibly small.

Y/N was still damp from her shower, smelling faintly of clean soap and warmth. From this close, Megan couldn't help but notice the way Y/N’s collarbone caught the soft light of the room, or how her eyes had darkened just a fraction, suddenly looking a lot less playful and a lot more intense.

"I, uh..." Megan started, but her voice was barely a whisper. She swallowed hard, her gaze helplessly slipping down to Y/N’s lips, then further down, noticing a subtle, prominent print beneath the soft fabric of Y/N's sweatpants before her eyes darted frantically back up to meet Y/N's.

A sudden, fierce blush flared across Megan's cheeks.

Just say something smart. Anything, Megan’s brain screamed, her pulse racing. But her body wasn’t listening. Instead, she found herself unconsciously leaning in, drawn to the quiet, magnetic heat radiating off the other girl.

Y/N’s eyes tracked the movement. The lazy grin on her face slowly faded, replaced by a sudden, heavy stillness. She didn't pull away. If anything, Y/N tilted her head slightly, her eyes dropping to Megan’s mouth in return. The arm Y/N had draped over the back of the couch shifted, her fingers lightly brushing against the very edge of Megan's shoulder.

Megan felt the light touch of Y/N’s fingers on her shoulder like a spark to dry kindling. Her skin tingled where they connected, her breath shuddering as she tried—and failed—to keep her composure.

Y/N didn’t move her hand away. Instead, her thumb slowly, deliberately traced a tiny circle against the fabric of Megan’s shirt. The movement was agonizingly slow, matching the heavy, quiet rhythm of the room.

"Megan," Y/N murmured again, her voice incredibly soft, almost a secret between the two of them. "You're really quiet."

"I'm..." Megan’s voice cracked slightly. She cleared her throat, trying to find her footing, but looking into Y/N’s dark eyes made it impossible to think. "I'm just... waiting to hear how you're going to make it up to me."

A faint, breathless smirk touched Y/N’s lips, though her eyes remained intensely focused on Megan’s. She leaned in just a fraction of an inch closer, close enough that Megan could feel the soft exhale of Y/N’s breath against her own lips.

"Well," Y/N whispered, her gaze dropping back down to Megan’s mouth before slowly rising to lock eyes again. "I have a few ideas. But I want to make sure we're on the same page first."

The sheer boldness of the look made Megan’s heart do a violent flip. Every instinct telling her to play it safe, to go back to her apartment and watch her shows, evaporated into thin air. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to lean forward, to bridge the tiny, excruciating gap left between them, and find out exactly what Y/N was thinking.

Unconsciously, Megan’s hand reached out, her fingers resting gently against Y/N’s knee, feeling the warm, solid heat of her leg beneath the fabric of her sweatpants.

Y/N let out a soft, sharp intake of breath at the touch, her eyes widening just a fraction before darkening with a sudden, fierce intensity. The playful teasing was entirely gone, replaced by a raw, magnetic pull that threatened to snap the last of Megan’s restraint.

The air in the room grew thick, almost suffocatingly warm. With her hand resting on Y/N’s knee, Megan felt the sudden, tight flex of the muscle beneath the fabric of the sweatpants.

Y/N didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned in even closer, her chest rising and falling in shallow, heavy breaths. The scent of her soap—clean, sharp, and laced with the natural warmth of her skin—seemed to fill Megan’s senses, making her head spin.

"Megan..." Y/N whispered, her voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent a violent shiver straight down Megan's spine.

Y/N’s hand on Megan's shoulder slid upward. Her warm fingers gently brushed against the side of Megan’s neck, her thumb resting right along Megan’s jawline. The heat of her palm was intoxicating. Y/N’s gaze dropped, lingering heavily on Megan's lips, then slid down the column of her throat before lifting back up to lock eyes.

"If you don't want this," Y/N murmured, her thumb lightly tracing the line of Megan’s jaw, "you need to tell me to stop. Right now."

Megan’s lips parted, but no words came out. Her heart was hammering so hard against her ribs she was certain Y/N could feel the pulse jumping under her fingertips. She didn't want to stop.

Every logical thought about her comfortable bed, her quiet apartment, and her favorite shows had been completely incinerated by the quiet, heavy tension radiating between them.

Instead of speaking, Megan let her eyes do the talking. She slowly slid her hand up Y/N’s thigh, her fingers tightening slightly on the fabric.

A quiet, low groan escaped Y/N’s throat at the gesture. The last shred of Y/N’s easygoing patience seemed to snap. Closing the final, agonizing inch between them, Y/N tilted Megan’s chin up, her lips hovering mere millimeters away from Megan’s, letting their warm breath mingle in the dark space between them.

The next morning, when she was met by the sun's bright light, it almost felt like a personal attack.

Megan sat on her bed, staring blankly at the wall. Her body was a mix of comfortable exhaustion and sheer, buzzing disbelief. She had actually done it. She had walked back across the hallway in the early hours of the morning—a quiet, breathless "walk of shame" that consisted of exactly ten paces, but felt like a mile under the hallway's fluorescent lights.

Now, she was sitting in the corner of the dance studio, stretching her hamstrings while trying to ignore the subtle ache in her muscles. The bass of the studio speakers hadn’t even started pumping yet, but her mind was already loud.

"Okay, spill," Sophia said, dropping her gym bag with a heavy thud right next to Megan. She sat down, crossing her legs, her sharp eyes immediately picking up on Megan's uncharacteristic quietness. "You’ve been staring at your shoelaces for ten minutes, Megs. What happened?"

Within seconds, the rest of the group drifted over. Dani slid down against the mirror, taking a long sip from her water bottle, while Lara sat on Megan's other side, elbowing her playfully. Manon and Yoonchae, who had been practicing a floor routine in the center, walked over, instantly sensing the shift in the room's energy.

"Did you actually go and fight the neighbor?" Dani asked, a grin tugging at her lips. "Because you text-spammed us at around 10 pm complaining about Bad Bunny, and then... absolute radio silence."

"Yeah, did you throw her speaker out the window?" Sophia teased, leaning over Lara's shoulder. "We were waiting for updates!"

Megan let out a breathy, embarrassed laugh, her cheeks immediately flaring with a bright pink blush. She buried her face in her hands. "Oh my god. No. I didn't throw the speaker."

"Wait..." Manon’s eyes widened, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her face. She leaned forward. "Megan. What did you do?"

"I went over there," Megan muttered, her voice muffled by her hands. She peeked out through her fingers at her friends, who were now staring at her with rapt, undivided attention. "I knocked. I was so ready to scream at her. And then the door opened..."

"And?" Sophia prompted, practically vibrating with impatience.

"And she was... sweaty," Megan whispered, the memory of Y/N’s damp collarbone and the soft fabric of her sweatpants flashing vividly in her mind. "She’d been working out. She wiped her face with her shirt and... guys, she has abs. Like, abs abs."

"Oh, no," Lara groaned dramatically, throwing her head back with a laugh. "And I'm guessing you forgot what you came for?"

"I did!" Megan defended herself, her voice pitching up. "She invited me in for water, and then she went to change, and we started talking about her F1 LEGOs, and then she sat on the couch..."

"Wait, back up," Dani interrupted, pointing a finger at her. "You went over to complain about noise at eleven at night, and ended up sitting on her couch discussing LEGOs?"

"It gets worse," Megan said, her heart doing a familiar, fluttering flip just talking about it. "She apologized—if you had seen the way she did it, you would give in too—and asked how she could make it up to me. And then she leaned in. And she smelled like soap. And... you know." Megan trails off.

Lara gasped, clutching Sophia’s arm. "You didn't."

"I did," Megan groaned, her blush deepening until it reached her ears. "I looked at her, and she saw me looking."

The studio exploded into a chorus of hushed squeals and dramatic gasps. Sophia slapped the floor, Manon covered her mouth in shock, and Dani almost choked on her water.

"Megan!" Lara squeaked, shaking her shoulder. "What did you do?!"

"She told me if I wanted her to stop, I had to tell her," Megan whispered, her eyes shining as she recounted the sheer heat of the moment. "But I didn't want her to stop. I put my hand on her leg... and, well, I didn't end up going back to my apartment until like, 4:00 am."

Sophia stared at her, completely dumbfounded, before a proud grin broke across her face. "You went over there for a noise complaint and became the noise complaint. I am genuinely inspired."

"Would've been the shortest walk of shame in human history," Manon laughed, shaking her head. "Literally just walking across the hall."

"But is she going to blast the music again tonight?" Lara asked with a mischievous wink. "Because if so, I think you need to go 'complain' again."