» » SYNOPSIS: A priest fell to his knees, wept before Satan's child itself and he wasn't as pure nor sinless as people thought he was. Meanwhile, Y/N arrived at the musicians' night—networking event looking beautiful and guilt-edged relevancy that she was aware that she hasn't entirely earned.
» » pairing: devil!jennie x artist!fem!reader
» » genre: supernatural-horror romance, dark comedy, satirical work of fiction and psychological thriller
» » what's in here: jennie being casually terrifying, themes of death and soul collection, brief depiction of a morally compromised religious figure, supernatural elements, morally ambiguous protagonist, themes of dishonesty and manufactured success
» » author's note: basically a filler chapter and I'm so sorry that I took over three months to complete the 5th chapter and this is very boring I'm sorryyy and ISTG I'LL HAVE THE CONTINUATION READY‼️
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A theology carved in stones—in walls and soaring pillars. That was how one might describe it: a passage between earth and heaven, architecture as devotion, silence as the sermon. The vastness of the space was almost eerie, the kind of eerie that pressed gently against your chest and reminded you how small you are.
The distinct scent of beeswax candles mingled with the sweet, earthy perfume of incense and somewhere beyond the nave, a choir's distant singing echoed—was beautiful and irritating all at once, the way holy things often were.
Her shiny heels; Christian Louboutin, soles the color of fresh blood, tapped against the stone cold floor, each click echoing too long, as though the cathedral was announcing her sudden arrival. She walked until she reached the wooden door of the confessional, gripped the knob and pulled it open, stepped into the dark little box like a cat exploring somewhere it absolutely should not be.
She sat with her legs closed, ladylike and her handbag resting beside her, the picture of propriety.
“Father,” she began, “I have killed a person,”
What a wonderful way to open a confession.
In the adjoining booth, the priest sat clutching his Bible and his rosary. His breath caught. He had heard many confessions over the decades—infidelities, thefts, envies both petty and catastrophic—but this one reached across the partition and took him firmly by the collar. Not for the crime itself, though partly. For the voice. It was unbothered.
His eyes flickered to the latticed screen beside him.
A beat.
“Did you intend for this person to die,” he asked carefully, the shakiness in his voice barely contained, “or did your anger get the better of you?”
On the other side of the partition, her long red hails tapped a slow idle rhythm against the wooden wall. She shifted, crossed her legs. “It was work,” she answered.
“I don't get paid for it. So I suppose it was entirely intentional.” She spoke about it the way one might discuss a mildly inconvenient errand.
The nonchalance did not go unnoticed. The priest swallowed. He steadied himself, kept his voice level, choosing his words with great care. “Do you feel the weight of this soul upon your own?” he asked. “Do you truly regret taking a life made in God's image?”
A pause. On her side of the booth, the woman raised one perfect eyebrow. She inspected her nails with faux curiosity and let her bottom lip push forward in a small, thoughtful pout.
“Regret?”
Another pause.
“I feel none of it.”
The priest nodded even knowing she could not see him, it seemed the appropriate thing to do. He pressed forward, navigating the conversation carefully. “What did this person do to warrant their death?” he presented his next question, testing water one careful toe at a time.
There were small perforations carved into the partition between them—little holes meant for whispered dins and quiet absolution. The woman leaned forward and brought her lips close to them, her voice dropping to something soft. Intimate. Intended only for him.
“He was a stupid, stupid pig,” she whispered pleasantly. “He sold his soul to my father in exchange for a longer and more prosperous life. But the stupid pig overstayed his welcome and Daddy sent me to collect what was owed.”
Then she giggled—a small, bright, delighted sound, utterly incongruous with everything she had just said, it was clear that she was enjoying this—enjoyed watching the color drain from a face they couldn't see.
A sharp, high-pitched ringing detonated in the priest's ear—sudden, impaling into his ear. He slammed his palm against the side of his head, the Bible momentarily forgotten on his knee. The sound wasn't loud in the usual sense. It was ear deafening.
Heat rushed over him. Cold followed immediately behind it or they arrived together—simultaneous, his rosary beads pressed into his palm.
She rolled her eyes, gathered her handbag and stepped out of the confessional box.
She strode across the stone floor with the unhurried elegance of someone who had never once in her existence been late for anything that truly mattered—which given the nature of her work, was entirely plausible.
Behind her, the booth door swung open with a bang and the priest stumbled out, struggling to keep pace. His balance, unfortunately did not cooperate. He went down. One palm flat against the cold stone, his long vestments spreading around him like a fallen flag, his Bible still clutched in one white-knuckled hand.
The woman stopped mid stride. She tilted her head, she did not turn around yet and she allowed him a moment.
Behind her, the priest trembled. His mouth hung open. Desperation had painted itself across his face, the kind of expression one reserves for moments of sincere theological crisis. He was sweating profusely. He looked up at the back of the woman who had just confessed a murder to him with the eerie calm of someone discussing the weather.
And then—Jennie turned around.
She looked down at him the way one looks at something interesting one has found on the bottom of a very expensive show. Hierarchy, after all, probably mattered.
“You—” The priest choked on his own breath. “Did your father...” He dug his nails into his palms. “...send you here too?” His eyes were very wide.
The corner of Jennie's lips curled. Her fox-like eyes caught the light filtering down through the stained glass; all that colored holiness falling across something that was very much not holy and she glanced briefly at the enormous crucifix looming at the altar before returning her gaze to the trembling man on the floor.
“Yes.”
One word. Devoid of emotions.
What happened next was, depending on one's perspective, either deeply tragic or darkly, horribly funny.
The priest—the man of God, the shepherd of souls—abandoned his Bible entirely. He got up onto both knees, hands pressed together, they were tremoring and he bowed. His forehead went to the floor. He was not praying to the God to whom he had devoted the better part of his youth. He was praying to the one he had sold his soul to instead.
It was perhaps the most honest prayer he had ever offered.
A sick little plot twist.
He wept. Eyes red, hair damp with sweat, he pressed his hands together and sobbed with the full-bodied commitment of a man who had just remembered, very suddenly, that all debts eventually come due.
“Please,” he begged, looking up at Jennie. “Please, don't take me today! I didn't mean to— I was afraid of dying! I'm still afraid!”
Jennie looked at him. She let out a slow, quiet sigh. It was an icky display of desperation. She raised one finger and wagged it at him as if he was a child who made a small mistake.
“You are one hundred and eighteen years old today,” she said, crouching down to his level with effortless grace. She placed one hand atop his head but not gently. “Your agreement with my father was to live another ten years. Ten years to repent. Ten years to be for forgiveness.” Her voice remained soft. Almost pleasant.
“But instead, you went and made a separate arrangement with a lowly demon. To extend the extension.” She clicked her tongue. “Did you think he wouldn't notice?”
“I... I can give you the demon's name!” He sobbed palms upturned toward her like an offering. “Please, not today... just not today!”
Jennie took his chin between her fingers and drew his face toward hers—she was not gentle. Their lips nearly brushed and the light inside the cathedral shifted, as if the sky outside had begun to bleed bruise and black at the same time.
Like a storm about to brew.
“Stupid,” she whispered softly, “stupid pig.”
Then Jennie shoved his face away, his head snapped back. She stood, smoothed the front of her cloth with one hand, flicking her hair back into perfect order. A long, theatrical sigh escaped her lips—setting down the weight of the situation.
“Not today, then,” she told the priest and her voice had shifted entirely—lighter, almost cheerful. She grinned down at him, a bright and very pretty thing that did not reach whatever lived behind her eyes.
“I promised my insufferable human wife I would attend her big night.” She shrugged one shoulder, the gesture loose and almost fond in a way and began to resemble affection. “Apparently that takes precedence.”
She straightened up, cast one last glare at the weeping, terrified priest on the floor of the cathedral and she turned back towards the door.
Her heels tapped against the floor—each sound ringing out and the choir somewhere above was beautiful as well as deeply annoying ass Jennie was making her way to the door. She pushed open the heavy door and stepped out into the world and the light swallowed her whole.
The sleek black sedan pulled up to the hotel entrance and Y/N stepped out with the kind of grace that comes from having practiced it, the door held open by a young man in dark clothing who kept his eyes appropriately forward. She looked exceptional tonight. She knew it. Jennie helped to choose the outfit she's wearing tonight.
The mirror in the card had confirmed it and the brief appreciative pause of the doorman had confirmed it again.
What she lacked, however, was her wife.
Jennie had told her in advance, casually, the way Jennie told her most things, as though the information were a small object being dropped into her hands from a great height that she would arrive at the function separately. On her own. In her own time.
Y/N had simply nodded and let it go. It wasn't as though she could actually stop Jennie from doing whatever Jennie wants to do. The mental image of herself physically restraining Jennie—arms wrapped around those shoulders, heels dragging across the floor, Jennie looking mildly inconvenienced—was a little funny. She would have laughed if it weren't also a little terrifying.
A tall young man in black escorted her to the elevator. She stepped inside and pressed the button. The display numbers climbed—floor by floor, digit by digit and Y/N watched the numbers rise with the quiet certainty that whatever this gathering was being held, it would involve velvet drapes, low lighting and wine with names nobody at the table could confidently pronounce aloud.
She was correct on all counts.
The elevator exhaled its doors open and Y/N stepped out into, there it is: flash of light hit her almost immediately from cameras, phones, the small bright explosions of people who recognized her and wanted proof of it. Her name, called out from two or three directions at once.
She had almost forgotten what this felt like.
It had been a while.
But it came back quickly, the muscle memory of being seen, of mattering in rooms like this. Her spine straightened almost on its own. A smile arrived on her face, it was genuine. Perhaps the current chapter was better than the ones that had come before it; she had known recognition once, years ago but not like this. Not this sharp and immediate, not this warm.
The small, honest part of her heart which is the part that still kept accounts, knew exactly why.
There was very little merit involved in her recent revival. Very little honest labour. The music that had put her name back into people's mouths had not come entirely from her own hands and she was aware this was the way one is aware of and with the specific discomfort of something one has chosen, for now, not to address.
She accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and turned to survey the room.
That was when she saw her or thought she did.
A glimpse. Jennie, leaning against the bar across the room, one hand curled around a glass of red wine, dark intense eyes catching the low light and holding it. Those eyes found Y/N through the rim of the glass, steady and red-tinged and then Y/N blinked, Jennie was gone.
Y/N turned, her eyebrows knitted together and she scanned the room again. The ballroom was full of faces and for a strange moment, she thought she saw Jennie's face amongst them—a flash of that particular grin, those eyes, surfacing briefly between strangers.
Has she arrived already?
The room itself was beautiful in the way that expensive rooms always are—bathed in a honeyed, amber glow, the kind of dim that turns champagne into bubbles of rising gold. Shadows gathered nicely in the corners. The floor hummed with the sound of a trumpet and a brushed drum kit, jazz threading its way through the air like smoke, unhurried and warm.
Blues underneath it.
Y/N felt something in her shoulders unknot quietly. Of all the genres she had moved through over the year, the RnB, the co-writing for other people's pop songs, the work that paid well and meant little but jazz had always been the one that felt like coming home to.
Around her, very attractive people in very expensive clothes were networking with the focused determination of people who had already decided the evening was an investment. They nodded at things they hadn't quite heard and laughed at punchlines they hadn't quite caught.
Y/N pressed the rim of her champagne glass to her lips and watched them with quiet, comfortable judgment.
“You are...” said a voice beside her.
She turned and a fairly tall man had materialized at her elbow, whiskey glass in his hand, one finger raised in her direction as though he was identifying a painting in a gallery. His face, when she looked at it properly, was—well. It wasn't offensive. It was the kind of face that had tried reasonably hard and gotten about three quarters of the way there.
“...Y/N,” he finished, arriving at her name with a satisfied air of someone completing a puzzle.
His smile was small and seemed genuine, it reached his eyes. He rocked his glass gently just to stir the rock in his whiskey. Y/N offered a polite nod, a small dip of the chin.
“I'm sorry,” she said, the smile dimming just slightly at the edges. “Do I know you?”
“I was kind of rude, sorry.” He had the grave to look briefly sheepish. “I'm ONE. The name's River.” He extended a hand and Y/N shook it.
“Ten months into producing and music-making. Still relatively new to all of this.” He added, gestured vaguely at the room with this glass.
She was quietly impressed. Ten months was nothing in this industry and yet here he was, at a gathering that most people spent years trying to get into. River reading her expression, grinned. He explained that the team he worked with had deep ties to several major labels—feels a bit like cheating, he said and chuckled.
Y/N laughed too and meant it.
They found a small table somewhere in the middle of the room and stayed there longer than either of them had planned. The conversation moved easily, back and forth, easy as the jazz beneath it. They traded stories. Horror, according to Y/N and River. Singers who had been difficult. Collaborations that had gone south magnificently.
River had a gift for a good delivery that made his worst anecdotes somehow funnier for how calmly he related them and Y/N found herself matching it, her posture relaxing, the champagne doing its quiet work.
She was having a good night.
River noticed something on her shoulder—a fleck of something, a small piece of lint or debris caught on the fabric of her cloth. He leaned forward slightly, hand already lifting to brush it away, a harmless and considerate gesture.
And then another hand appeared.
It arrived quietly from seemingly nowhere, settling over Y/N's shoulder, managed to simultaneously block River's hand. The nails were immaculate. Red. Perfectly manicured.
“Uh-uh.” The voice was sweet and playful. “Not so fast, soldier.”
Y/N and River both turned.
Standing at Y/N's shoulder—probably appeared out of the thin air—was a beautiful woman. River didn't recognize her but Y/N recognized her immediately and with the particular mixture of relief and a deep personal exasperation.
Her wife.
The source of her revived relevancy, the architect of her comeback. The one she sold off her soul to through an unholy matrimony. The devil.
❦ getting into a relationship with daniela's ex wasn't the plan— but neither was getting with her instead.
daniela avanzini x fem!reader · explicit sexual content · fingering · scissoring · cheating?? (he treats everyone badly) · slight voyeurism · daniela's really who you've been after · not proofread [mdni]
❛ i built that boy by brick by brick by brick
A/N || just a little something. kisses, brooklynn.
you had been over the too loud party— just drinks, bodies, and mouths that wouldn't stop talking your ear off. daniela seemed to be eyeing you all night, it made sense, but you wanted to believe otherwise.
you held onto your boyfriend's arm, he had been talking the night away and you wanted nothing but to just get out of there. as he continued, you felt yourself slipping away from the conversation and feeling more intrigued by the view outside— the sun had been setting, and the trees blew effortlessly in the little wind that was still out.
so you stepped away and slid outside, back facing the double glass doors which you hadn't heard click.
“bored?”
you turned around in response, you didn't expect her to confront you, and you definitely didn't expect for her to encounter you alone. though you couldn't complain, you'd been far more interested in what she had to say than what he ever did.
daniela stepped forward once more, forcing you to advance back, your skin touching the cold metal fence that wrapped around the patio. your eyes flicked up to hers— unsure but steady, all while she dragged her manicured finger down the front of your chest.
“i made him,” her nail lowered; stopping for a moment just to trace small shapes over your dress, her head leaning in to whisper by your ear, “you’re basically just into me,”
your breath hitched at her words.
into her.
daniela— the girl he’d been with for two years before she’d decided better, decided to break up because fixing him would only be for the girls that weren’t her.
and now you were in between the guy who you’d been talking to—just recently dating— and the girl who’d invented him.
her eyes tracked up and down your body, nice and slow, like she was taking in exactly what she should’ve earned in return, “he doesn’t deserve what all my hard work is giving him,”
you glanced at her finger for a moment— “he doesn’t.” the words ushered out before you could stop them, before you could even process what it was that you had just let out of your mouth.
daniela’s brow shot up curiously, “oh?”
“you do,” you said firmly, no risky hesitation, no delayed responses.
her lips twisted into a knowing smirk, mouth almost touching yours but not daring to push further, “wanna show me?” she lifted her head slightly to look you in the eye, voice so soft you couldn’t answer back.
“you don’t want him back?”
daniela dusted off her hands slowly, lifting them up with a knowing smile, a clear ‘no’
fuck.
you met her eyes tentatively, hands presssing onto her chest as you leaned forward— daniela waiting patiently for the gap to close.
your pulse spiked as your lips brushed against hers, pulling back to process, but then pressing softly, because you meant it.
daniela’s hands slid around your waist, pulling your body into hers while your lips touched, you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, fingers squeezing into showing skin and the kiss becoming fervent.
daniela smiled against you when she realized, thumbs circling your hips before she broke away, lips dragging down to your bottom one until it flipped back up.
the whine that left your mouth was enough to elicit a small chuckle from her, “already impatient?”
you smiled, confidence overcoming you. “you asked me to show you, right? so,” your fingers slid to wrap around her wrist, gently touching while you moved forward, “let me show you.”
her eyes widened for a moment so briefly you were surprised you'd caught it yourself, she followed through the loud house— the beating bass that vibrated all over, the floor with too many cups to count, the grinding and touching and all too close-ing of the crowd.
daniela moved just as swiftly as you did, her eyes stuck on your body as you sauntered around
your free hand held onto the bannister “you know, you didn’t really need a lot of convincing”
“i know what i like,” you whispered, pushing the first door open, daniela’s hand closing it right behind. “i like when girls are sure,” her finger slipped under to tilt your head, “and i like when girls don’t waste time.”
your lips touched hers, fingers weaving their way through her tied up dress, ribbons falling free as her hands held your face, deepening the kiss— one hand coming down to push at your chest.
another step back, her hand pushed again, the backs of your legs touched the mattresses. she didn’t break away from the kiss, tongue slipping inside to meet yours, hands hesitating against the brown dress that was almost half off.
one more push and you were sitting down, daniela’s leg hooking over your lap to straddle you, her smile widening at your stifled gasp. her hands trailed over exposed skin, fingers grazing over the small zipper tucked to the side, thumb and pointer grabbing the zipper and pulling down, your dress falling forward as the zipper kept lowering.
she lifted her hips to remove the dress from you entirely, eyes on black lace and a matching set she wasn’t expecting.
but she should’ve known.
you were put together so well.
your eyes followed the discarded fabric on the bed, daniela’s head dipping down, lips kissing at the sensitive skin of your neck while her fingers ran over your body, “go on, you know what to do,” you spread your legs open, swallowing hard as her eyes took their time admiring you. “is that all?”
you looked down, your hand moving to push the fabric aside, leaving you bare. she hummed out of satisfaction, mouth dipping in closer to yours, “are you sure?” she asked, voice too sultry to even pay attention to. you nodded absentmindedly, “please,”
her lips curved upwards, one hand moving down your body until it stopped right above where she knew you wanted— needed— her.
your eyes followed her as her hand moved back up, breath already uneven. “please?” she laughed softly, pressing her finger into your chest, “please, what?”
“please, daniela. i want this, i want you.” you begged, words slurring together into a mess of intense need. you weren't even sure what you were begging for, but as long as her hands were on you, it’s all you needed.
she laughed low, “aww, you do?” she purred, slipping her finger inside without preamble, a soft but taunting gasp leaving her mouth. “god i've only said a few words and you're soaked.”
you couldn’t respond, mind entirely focused on her finger— and the fact that you wanted more.
you nodded instead, watching as she jutted out her bottom lip into a fake pout.
“yea? you want it that bad? and you were begging for him like this once, can you believe that.”
she pushed two fingers inside, prodding and pumping like she had done this plenty of times before.
“he was never.. important,” your voice cracked, hips rolling against fingers that continued to push.
“i know, but i am.” she pressed her thumb against your clit, her fingers bending and her eyes too focused on your messy state.
“daniela..” your whines were her favourite sound, she’d decided. lips moving to press right up against your cheek, “oh i know baby, i know..”
her words were only leading you closer, ragged breaths and louder noises were the only things that either of you could hear. daniela removed her fingers, placing them by your lips, to which you hurriedly took into your mouth to clean. “but—”
“shh,” she cut you off, pecking your lips again before she pushed two fingers inside once more, swirling the wetness that was already there, around until it began to let her fingers move more freely, her own pumping softly at first just to tease you even more.
your breath hitched for a moment— small gasp slipping from the way her fingers were moving inside. your hands held the still messed up sheets, god you didn’t even know where to look.
she was everywhere.
“i'm close—” your soft pants only emboldened her, “go ahead baby,” her words were enough, your legs giving in and body resting against the bed as you let go.
“fuck,”
daniela chuckled at your state, pulling away and stripping her own clothes.
she adjusted herself, legs falling wide open while your uneven breaths caught up. “my sweet thing, tired already?” she taunted, watching as you slightly shook your head, “no, not even close.”
“not even close?” her lips curved upwards, your leg hooking under hers, and the other laying on top.
you ground onto her, gasps falling from your lips as your body rolled over her own, daniela matched your pace, rocking back, hands roaming over where she wasn’t already— lips pressing all over your neck, leaving marks all too visible.
your soft moans were enough to drive daniela to continue, her hips bucking against yours like she couldn’t get enough— and she couldn’t. every brush of her clit was sending shivers down your spine, her hips rolling relentlessly. “yes— there, right there. don’t stop,” she panted, hands gripping onto you more firmly as her breathing turned uneven, much like yours had.
“daniela, fuck— please,” she just nodded in response, her hips moving to receive the friction she wanted.
that was all you needed, you let go and collapsed on the girl, her hands tightening as she followed behind, her soft pants turning into smaller gasps.
“oh my god,” she rasped out, eyes locking onto your heaving chest, “i don’t want you to leave.”
daniela kept there for a while, listening to your wispy words, “so i won't. stay with me?”
you smiled in response, settling into the girl who you've always really wanted.
Synopsis: what was harder than love? An unrequited love.. or rather.. is it really that unrequited? Aka, you try to get your classmate's love by giving her drawings in secret, becoming her secret admirer.. just.. small problem.. you are a girl..
Warnings: fluff at start kind of.. but the ending is angsty.. this is for @jhgifdbki since they wanted a bit of angst..
Words: 5.4k
What is it about a first crush? What makes it so special? Was it perhaps, the way the eyes would try to always search for said person.. or perhaps was the cheeks, which would redden at the thought of them?
Love had not been kind to you, for a reason, you thought. And maybe, just maybe, you did deserve this kind of punishment from the universe. Because life had been too easy for you. You had a good family, that loved you.. good parents that accepted you no matter what you did or did not do.
When you came out to them, they didn't even seemed surprised at all, as a matter of fact, the only person who even bat an eye was your brother, who had, and I repeat, mumbled under his breath 'Fucking finally'.
You did.. okay at school. You were never a lover of studying, not because you weren't.. good, but because nothing about it excited you really. It was as if, your heart belonged somewhere else.
Then, entered the picture her..
Jeung Yoonchae, beautiful Yoonchae, with gorgeous black jet hair and big boba eyes. She had transfered with her family to the small quiet town of Yeosu-si. Okay, not that small but still, it couldn't compare to say.. Seoul.
At times you even pondered as to why they moved, when life could've easily been more interesting there. But then again.. maybe they were not happy there so, to find some comfort, for their own sake, they decided to move.
The first day you met her, you felt your world suddenly become small. One glance at her and you were a goner. That day, she had worn her hair up, in a small ponytail, with a cute bow to top it off. The uniform was the same, of course, but somehow, she made it look like it came out of a movie or something.
You prayed, long and hard to be sat next to her, why? Because you wanted to approach her, without really taking the initiative. You were scared, scared that if you did, if you did talk to her, then you'd ruin it all.
So you, instead, opted to look at her from far away. Yes.. it does sound creepy to say but, it wasn't anything like that. You swore on your life.
Slowly, she started to integrate with the others, and you couldn't help the slight pout that would form on your face whenever she talked to someone.. especially if it were a boy. You knew you couldn't really do anything about it.. you were not her friend, much less acquaintance.. but it still felt wrong.
Yoonchae was kind to everyone, always with a smile on her beautiful face. But you wondered.. was there something else behind it? Something that she was hiding from the rest of the world? Like sheltering?
Because to you, nobody could be that happy all the time. It was almost.. impossible. Sure, there were people who were positive but.. Yoonchae didn't seem to be that kind of girl. No matter what she tried to show.
Then, Sports' Day came around. Your class had been assigned to the red team, which everyone was excited for. There was this legend that said that the class that got to be the red team, won by default. This of course, got overly exaggerated by the massive amount of wins that the red teams had gotten in the past.
But still.. it was nice.. nice to play around like this.
That faithful day, you opted to look from the benches. You didn't like sports, you weren't a big fan of them, but that didn't mean that you weren't gonna cheer for your classmates. Especially your friends, who had decided to kill themselves by signing up.
Bora, one of your friends, picked to do the 100 meter run, while Yuna, decided on being part of the cheering squad. God knows she was good at yelling for sure. She had strong pipes.
You took your seat on the bench, looking around at the other people that gathered for the occasion. Some were faces you recognized, while others.. not so much. A few of them were sharing some drinks and snacks, while others had sneaked out to do whatever the shit they did.
Your eyes went back to the field, where the teachers were gathering all the participants, and dividing them into sections. Not that it really did matter, since you knew for a fact that the chaos from the yells and the talks was gonna make everyone distracted.
So, while you were there, watching everything unfold, you noticed something.. from the corner of your eye. You didn't quite register that well.. Yoonchae was gonna be there, on the benches.. with you. Why? Because you thought an athletic girl like her was gonna participate in the event.. but no, she was standing by the rail, looking down at the others playing.
You furrowed your brows slightly. What had happened to her? Had she gotten hurt or something?
Before you could stop yourself, you accidentally slipped from the bench as you were trying to look at her face.. and that, alongside your scream of pain, made Yoonchae, and not only her, look at you.
At first, people kept looking at you, some worried, some entertained, but then, as you got up, mumbling a 'I am okay, I am okay', they got back to minding their own business.
Well, everyone.. except for Yoonchae.
"You need help?"
Shock, your eyes widened, as you heard that angelic voice beside you. In an instant, you almost lost balance again, before she grabbed you by the arm, pulling you towards her "Hey-".
"I am so sorry-" you had managed to mumble, as you regained your posture and gazed at her.. her beautiful eyes.
Uh, she was wearing glasses today.. how cute.
"No, I am sorry.. I shouldn't have crept towards you like that."
"No no, you seriously didn't do anything Yoonchae, it was my fault.. I am just so clumsy, that's all" you chuckled, before fixing your hair slightly.
Just then though, did you notice.. that her hand was still holding your arm.. well, the heat from it was ever so present, that's why. It almost felt like it was burning. Your arm- not you.
"Uh.." you looked down at her hand, then back up at her. She was not really letting go yet uh?
Unfortunately though, after a few seconds of silence, with your glances directed at her, she finally conceded and pulled back her hand.
"Sorry- I forgot I was grabbing your arm there" she chuckled nervously, shaking her head at you.
Somehow, up close, she looked even more radiating than at the back of the class.. might also be because when you stare at her in class, you cannot see her face.. but only her hair.. mhm.
"Oh no- don't worry, I didn't mind-"
"You didn't mind?"
Shit.. oh God.. no no, did you say that out loud?!
"No- NO! I mean- yes- no- it's okay really, that is what I am trying to say" you tried to save yourself.. save face, but you knew that.. well, you saved nothing. Because next thing that happened, Yoonchae let out a small giggle, a very quiet and small giggle.. one that you had to be very close to her to hear.
But still a giggle nonetheless.
"You are funny.." she mumbled, as she took you in, looking at you up and down. Somehow, this was the actual first time she really did see you. Ironic, isn't it? It had been over 2 months since she came here and yet, this was the first time she saw you up close.
"Uh thanks.. I try to.."
"I like funny people, never stop being one of them."
She liked funny people? So.. she liked you? Wow.. this was progress alright..
"I gotta go now.. but hey, be careful next time okay?"
"Yeah.. don't worry- oh- and thanks again!" you yelled out to her, as she had already started walking off.. God knows where.
Mhm, guess today was not a bad day at all.. afterall.
---
"You could try to just talk to her you know.." Bora mumbled, as she took a chip from you and ate it, without a care in the world.
You looked at her, slowly squinting your eyes, before you scoffed "Sure- because girls like her like girls like me, get a grip woman."
"I am just saying-"
"What you are saying is wrong by default."
"You didn't even try" she pointed at you, raising an eyebrow and pouting slightly "You just assumed that."
Your lips pressed together, as you took in her words. What she was saying well.. was the truth. You really had this twisted idea that if you tried to talk to her then really, she would find you actually boring and never want you near her.
Plus, the fact that you liked girls, could make this ten times worse.. who knows what she thinks of women in general.. and especially those who are lesbians or bi.
"I don't have to try.. I can feel that she wouldn't like me either way" you mumbled, after thinking about it for a few seconds.
Suddenly, it was time for Yuna to jump into the boat. And boy she did, because she didn't waste time to hit you with the cold hard truth.
"Y/N, you don't know that.. and you won't ever know that until you talk to her. So what if she doesn't like girls? At least you tried and you can live in peace knowing that you did your best. Plus, you'll still have her as a friend."
"Ooh, I don't know Yuna.. being friends with someone you rejected is hard.. or with someone you used to crush on" Bora added, patting her hands together, as she chewed on the chips.
Yuna furrowed her brows "It is not impossible though.."
"It is still hard, trust me.. been there and done that."
"You cannot just always rely on your past like that- everyone is different Bora-"
"My past never failed me-"
"It sure did-"
And so on.. they kept bickering like that, all while you were spacing out, thinking about a future that you knew could never happen. Or perhaps.. was it the past? Well, let's see.. you were happy.. she was talking to you.. no.. it could be both future and past.
What clearly was not.. was the present. Because while you were with your dumb friends, discussing about this.. Yoonchae was sitting with her friends.. and a boy.. God knows talking about something.. and it must be something really funny, because she kept shaking her head and hitting him gently on the arm.
To say you were feeling jealous was an understatement.. you were starting to feel depressed and angry.. all in one. Your eyes were lazerfocused on them, your lips were pressing together, your hand was holding out for a punch.
And your friends around you? Yeah, deaf to what was happening to you.
"Why is she so comfortable with him?" you mumbled under your breath, loud enough for the girls to ear.
Bora was the first to look at you, then at Yoonchae, before sighing "Because he has a massive crush on her and maybe she has a crush on him too."
"Don't say that! You'll only make her sadder!" Yuna called her out, giving her a small hit on the head, all while Bora let out an 'Ouch' of sound effect.
"It is the truth-"
"Oh shut up with your truth, we are here to help our friend."
"I am helping her" she tried to say, before she got once more srtuck by Yuna.
"No you are not, you are just making her feel bad."
"Not my fault-"
"Girls please stop" you finally mumbled, having had enough of this circus "I have decided.."
The girls looked at you, with furrowed brows and interested glances. If you weren't still mad about the closeness that Yoonchae had with that guy, you would've laughed at your friends.. but you didn't. Not now at least.
"I will try to win her over."
---
Love letters.. yes, love letters. Love letters was what every girl wanted no? At least, as far as you heard from the bathroom stalls. You even saw them in a few dramas here and there.. so it was the perfect idea!
Of course.. you weren't a very good writer, so, after thinking about it for a few days, you had decided instead to draw for her. You knew she loved drawing, and you knew that she was always seen sporting her creations around class.
She was very modest, but you could tell she really was proud of her work, and you couldn't love but love the way her eyes sparkled when talking about how she came up with her drawings.
It made you feel things inside, inside your heart. So, in an attempt to impress her, you started to leave small drawings with cute writings on them, so like letters, under her table. At first, when she noticed them, she looked confused and even a bit paranoid.
It seemed as if she thought it was a prank, but the more you did, the more that expression shifted into a smile.. a smile of recognition. So much so that every day, when she walked towards class, first thing she did after sitting down, was look under her table for something.
And when she would find the drawing with the small writing on it, she would be motivated to keep going all day with a positive attitude.
It was very satisfying to see how much joy you had brought to her, but there was something you did not account for. You never specified who the admirer was. You had left it to intepretation. Which looking back, was not ideal.
Yoonchae could very well imagine you as a boy, instead of a girl.. perhaps also dreamy, with deep eyes and a waxed jawline or something. Everything you weren't or didn't have.. for obvious reasons.
Slowly, you were starting to feel the dread. What if she got upset when she learned that it was you all along? What if she was expecting something more.. something.. more genuine.. not you?
What if she was expecting a boy?
This kept you awake at night, and the girls, could notice it.
"We have to do something" Yuna mumbled under her breath, as she watched you sulk in your seat.
"Yeah.. but exactly what? We can't make her change sexuality-"
"I know that, but we can still try to lure them together, or something! I hate seeing her like this.." Yuna smacked gently on the head Bora, as she winced in pain.
"Next time you do that, I will throw you out of the window" she warned her, but there really was no bite behind those words.
"I'd like to see you try."
So, like that, the girls came up with a plan, a genius plan. Since you were no help at all, and it had to be a surprise, they decided to play a bit of a long stretched game.
Aka.. they asked Yoonchae to help you clean that day because you were stressed about something and couldn't do it alone, and then, before she could say anything else, they left. Luckily, the plan worked, because at the end of the day, while you were sweeping away the floor, the door swung open.
Your eyes were still sulking, still looking down the pavement, it was almost as if.. you were dead or something. But no, you weren't.. you were just rewinding all the worries in your head, and how Yoonchae, that day, was looking at him with different eyes.
God, if she believed that the secret admirer was him, then you'd throw up the lunch you had.
"Is there room for one more?" a small voice called out, as your eyes finally snapped towards her.
Fuck, you felt all the emotions at once. Joy, anger, sadness and.. confusion.
"What are you doing here?"
"Well, your friends told me that you were tired so, I came here to help, if that is okay."
You kept looking at her, for a few seconds, before you nodded "Uh yeah- yeah yeah yeah, of course it is okay."
Perhaps you were being too eager, but you couldn't help the small thud you heard your heart make inside your chest. Saint Peter, this woman had such a pull over you.
"Thank you" she mumbled under her breath, as she walked in and closed the door, immediately starting to clean around the room.
Let's just say that this was the start of the downfall, at least.. for you.. because nothing could've prepared you for what was about to come..
"So.. uh, what do you think of Joon?"
---
"My life is ruined girls" you mumbled to yourself, as you grabbed the pillow from your bed and hid your face with it.
"Y/N.. I am so sorry honey.." Yuna tried to pat your head, but you just flinched away.
Part of you was hurt, for sure, because they set you up.. but another part.. was hurt for a very different reason.
"I don't get it" started Bora "Why did't you just tell her that it was you drawing those sketches?"
"Because she likes Joon! I couldn't do that to her! I want her to be happy" you huffed out, hitting your head with the pillow.
Turns out, that Yoonchae, had already discovered who the 'real' author of those drawings was. Your eyes had widened when she said that, so imagine your stupor when she instead declared that it was Joon, simply for the fact that he was a rather 'good' sketcher.
Your heart, nearly broke that day. But what was worse, was seeing her eyes lighting up while telling you that.. like she really believed it. It was then and there that you decided to not tell her anything, because you didn't want her to hurt because of you.
You wanted her happy, you wanted her to be free, and not tied up with guilt to you. Just because you were the one crushing on her.
Bora hummed, tilting her head left and right "But will she be happy when she realizes that it was not Joon?"
"You know Y/N, Bora has a point, this might just backfire you know.."
You pouted, for a second too long, before you threw the pillow to Bora, aiming just her face.
"It's better than to disappoint her with my gender-"
"You are not disappointing anyone with your gender, stop that" Yuna gently reprimended you, as Bora scoffed at the pillow throw.
"You know that these are deadly, right?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at you, before giving you the middle finger treatment.
"Oh fuck off, it is your fault too.. you were the one getting me into this mess."
"Now wait a second, I did not tell you to draw those sketches-"
"Girls let's not fight please-"
Okay, fine, she was right about that. But still, it hurt.. it hurt to know that you couldn't really blame anyone but yourself. And especially you couldn't blame sweet Yoonchae, just because she liked.. a boy.
From that day.. you decided, that rather than telling her the truth, you'd let her live life blissfully. She liked Joon, that was fine. You hoped she knew what she was doing, and you prayed that she followed her heart no matter what.
Little by little, the weeks passed by, and just like that, Christmas was around the corner. You kept gazing at her, from time to time, but you noticed something shift between her and Joon. There was this now.. comforting feeling or was it tension? Between them.
He would stand closer to her, and she would let him. She never let anyone else do that.. never did in the past. So.. that must've meant that he had confessed to her or something.. and now, they were a couple.
Did you cry yourself to sleep that night? Yes, yes you did. You did until you couldn't anymore, until your parents knocked worriedly at your door. Until your brother crashed into the room, complaining about how you hadn't eaten dinner yet, or how loud you were.
Not gonna lie, that made you slightly smile, just for a bit, until depression hit once again.
You were curious though, did Joon tell her that he actually sent her those drawings, or did he say the truth? It couldn't be the latter, otherwise, they wouldn't be together. And you did hear from Bora that apparently.. Joon confirmed to her when she asked him, that he indeed was the admirer.
That mother.. fucker..
Whatever, as long as Yoonchae was happy.
Today was the last day before winter break, the class decided to do a full day of events and games, just for the sake of it. It was tradition at the end of the day.
You were sitting on your chair inside the almost empty classroom, looking down at your phone, before your friends barged in. At first, you didn't even hear them, until Bora flicked your forehead.
"Hey- that hurts!" you whined out, holding your forehead and making your phone crash down the desk.
Bora looked at you unimpressed, before she folded her arms "We got news."
"News? What kind of news?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
"We saw Yoonchae and Joon getting inside one of the empty classrooms."
"Good for them, what do I even care?" lie, you did care.. a lot, but you acted as if you didn't.
"You idiot, she barged out angrily after just 5 minutes" Bora huffed out, hitting you on the head gently.
"Hey- STOP THAT- wait.. what? Why did she storm out?"
"Apparently.. Yoonchae asked Joon something, and he couldn't answer or perform.. or whatever.. and so she got mad and stormed off" Bora replied, drily.
Wait.. what? She asked him something and he couldn't do it? What exactly was happening right now. God, did others see this? Considering they were now the famous 'class couple', people must've heard about it too already.
Sensing what you were thinking, Yuna sighed gently and placed her hand on your head, almost like a pat from a loving mother.
"Nobody saw, except us.. but we fear that this might bite you in the butt."
"Why would it bite me in the butt?" you asked, raising your eyebrow confused.
"Because you like her you idiot" Bora started "What if Joon finds out and tells Yoonchae? Mhm?"
Impossible.. he would never get that, he was not that smart.
"Don't joke around, he would never-"
"He could if he wanted to Y/N.. we are just worried" Yuna replied, eyes laser focused on yours.
God, why were they so serious right now? They weren't beforehand.. did something else happen for them to start acting like this? Wait..
"Wait a second.. where is Yoonchae now?" you asked, standing up from your desk.
"Don't know, but it did look as if she was going to her locker-"
"Her locker?" you cut her off, eyes widening at the realization.
"Yeah.. her locker.." Bora repeated, confusion starting to appear on her face. Yuna was the same, she was looking at you with squinty eyes, almost trying to read you.
Her locker.. fuck..
"What's wrong Y/N?" Yuna asked gently, going to grab your arm, but you pulled back in an instant.
"I have to go.. I'm sorry."
"Y/N- Y/N WAIT-"
You didn't listen, you ran, ran as fast as you could, out of the classroom and towards the lockers. This was bad, so bad..
Once you arrived there, you were slightly sweating, and had short breath. You looked around, for the familiar face that was Yoonchae.. but you couldn't spot her. There was absolutely nothing.. nobody.
Fuck, fuck, you were fucked. She was already gone.
You sighed, taking out your phone and checking the notifications that your friends were sending you. Why was the Universe just so against you? Why were you this.. messed up? It was not fair! Not fair at all.
Just then, just then did you notice something though.. the locker, her locker was actually slightly open. Curiosity got the best of you, so you walked towards it and opened it. You knew this was an invasion of privacy, but you had to just know..
Gone.. the letters.. the drawings were all gone.. she took them all.
Bring.
Your eyes widened, as you were receiving a call. Your trembling hands picked up your phone, and without even thinking twice about it or about checking who it was, you accepted the call.
"Hello?"
"Meet me behind the yard, right now."
Your face went pale, as you heard the voice from the caller. You gulped gently, feeling your body start to burn from fear and embarassment.
"I-where again?-"
"Behind the yard, don't make me wait."
With that, the caller hung up, leaving you to a dead line.. and fear creeping in your mind. God.. no, this was not good at all. You were gonna die today. You knew it.
Still, there was nothing you could do right? You had to go.. because then the caller would just hunt you down until they found you and talked to you. So it was better to face it now than to run away.
---
Your eyes looked around the place, you took your sweet time to get there, and when you did.. there was nobody. Why? They had said they were already here right? So.. why were you here alone?
"Took you long enough" a voice cut through the silence, as they walked closer to you, from behind.
You didn't dare to turn around, at first, but then, they just sighed and took a step closer. You could just smell their perfume.. so familiar.. so nice.. so.. them.
"Turn around."
So you did, you finally turned around, and your eyes gazed at her.. Yoonchae. Of course, who else could've been.
"Hey.." you tried to say, as your breath quickened at your proximity. God, she looked gorgeous up close uh.
It had been far too long since you saw her like this.
Yoonchae gazed at your eyes, there was almost this sort of coldness in hers, something that felt surreal to you. Never in your life had you witnessed an angry Yoonchae.. or a cold one like this one. Well..
"So it was you uh?" she mumbled, folding her arms in front of her chest.
"Was me what?"
"Do not play with me Y/N, I know.."
"I really don't know what you are talking about Yoonchae.. you must've gotten the wrong girl-"
"I am not mad" she cut you off, as her eyes slowly softened, just enough for you to let out a sigh of relief. But then, they returned cold. Like ice.
"Why didn't you tell me the truth, why did you let me live with a lie?"
"I didn't want you to get hurt" you mumbled softly, under your breath, as you looked down at the floor.
God, you sounded so broken, so small right now.
Yoonchae sighed again, looking to the side for a second, before she looked back at you "Don't you think that I had the right to know about this though? You think this would've hurt me?"
Ouch..
"I thought that it would've made you disappointed, sad.. I don't want to see you sad, that's why I didn't say anything."
"Do you see me happy now? Do you see me satisfied though now?" she asked, her voice rising just enough for you to wince. Yoonchae took notice of that, and shook her head, mumbling a small 'sorry' under her breath. She didn't mean to raise her voice but.. it sort of happened.
Finally though, you decided to look up from the floor and instead, gaze upon her. God, her eyes were colder now.. but there was this hint of.. fire? Fondness? Perhaps.. in them. Was she really angry at you because you lied.. or because you hadn't been strong enough to tell her the truth?
"Yoonchae.."
"Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to realize that Joon was not who I thought he was? To see him fail at something so simple, the moment he was put into test.. to having lived a lie.. thinking it was a truth? God, I literally dated him because I thought he was behind all of.. all of this" she showed you the letters, in her hands.. no actually, she shook them in front of your face, making you regret ever lying to her.
Well, technically, you didn't lie.. you just never told her..
"And now.. to realize that it was you.. my classmate.. a girl.. sending me all of these amazing drawings and letters.. it hurts. Not because you are a girl, but because you had never been brave enough to tell me Y/N."
God, you wanted the earth to swallow you whole right now..
You felt so humiliated, so bad, for not having said anything. But then.. just then, did you find your voice.
"If.. if I had told you from the beginning.. would it have changed anything.. between the two of us?"
"What?" Yoonchae asked, furrowing her brows.
"If I had told you, from the very beginning.. that I was the one who did this all.. would you have given me a chance as you did with Joon? Be honest with me Yoonchae" you asked again, raising your voice a little bit more this time.
It was as if, you had found your courage once more.. as if you were saying all the things you couldn't in the past. And Lord, did it feel good.
Yoonchae stared at you, eyes widened, as she took in your words. If you had told her from the beginning.. that was a hard question.. could she really be honest and say the truth? Or was this a lose lose situation nonetheless?
The silence stretched between the two of you, and you just knew, right then and there.. that that.. was the answer.
"I knew it" you mumbled quietly.
"It's not my fault Y/N-" Yoonchae tried to say, but you cut her off immediately.
"I know it is not your fault, which is why I didn't get mad when you started dating Joon. Which is why I never told you.. because I am a girl."
"I still appreciate the gesture-"
"But not as much as if I were a boy" you said, coldly, as you felt your heart just turn to ice.. fuck, it hurt.
Yoonchae kept quiet once more, just squeezing the letters with her hands. They were starting to get wrinkled by how hard she was holding them. Uh.. guess she did feel the humiliation.
"I like boys" she finally said, as she gathered enough courage to speak.
It was then and there.. that your heart broke.. for the very first time. No, it was not when she told you about Joon, no, it was not when she was displaying affection towards him. It was now.. now that she knew and still.. reality hit.
You pressed your lips together, sighing deeply. Well, this was it.. wasn't it? The end.. you couldn't go forward from this.
"Yeah, I know.. well.. I hope that you find happiness with them, truly.. I do" with that, you decided to turn around and finally leave.
That was.. until, you felt this sort of need.. to do something else first.. something that would have helped you to heal fully.. in your mind at least.
You turned back around, looking at her widened eyes, before yours went to the letters in her hands. In a quick motion, you walked back to her, and like that, grabbed the letters back, before she could protest or do anything about it.
"Let's leave it in the past and move on, you don't need these.. they were from a girl" you mumbled to her, as you finally turned back and left.
You didn't look back at her, you didn't need to.. the lack of resistence showed it all. She stopped caring about the letters the moment she realized that those were sent from you.. and not a boy. Or perhaps it was just your brain telling you this.
What you failed to realize, was that once you were gone.. away from her sight.. she looked down at her hands, which were now trembling, and let out a small.. tiny.. sigh.
Yoonchae's legs gave out as she hit the pavement hard. Her hands felt so empty.. yet.. the one thing that felt emptier than them.. was her heart. Why.. why was she feeling like this? Why was she missing the letters so much? Why was she feeling hollow all of a sudden..
She didn't know it yet, but this was just the very start of a long period of grieving, that would end, just when she finally.. finally got to terms with her own feelings.
And perhaps, the Universe decided to finally get on your side, because from the next semester, the dynamic would change drastically.
Rule #1: The president doesn’t date.
Rule #2: Don’t get caught breaking Rule #1.
Yoonchae plans to break both.
Synopsis: In a school where rules are everything, no one dares to cross the student council—especially not its cold, untouchable president, yn. But when junior Yoonchae is challenged by her friends to make the infamous president fall for her, what starts as a harmless dare quickly turns into something far more dangerous. Between late-night conversations, stolen glances, and a growing list of broken rules, the line between strategy and sincerity begins to blur. Because in a place governed by order, falling in love might be the biggest violation of all.
Pairing: Jeong Yoonchae x fem!reader
Genre: social media au, high school au, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff, comedy.
Warnings: swearing, and idkkk yet
STATUS: ongoing
A/N: Had this idea based on something my gf said and I'm finally publishing it after MONTHS. THIS IS MY FIRST SMAU guys me scared
↳Featuring: KATSEYE, NEWJEANS, members of IVE, members of ENHYPEN, members of LE SSERAFIM, and Joshua Hong.
The Board of Questionable Decisions pls don’t tell yn
headaches no. 2
CHAPTERS
chapter 1: what's heated rivaly?
chapter 2: danielle our savior
chapter 3: fuckass bald eagle
chapter 4: DARE?
chapter 5: oh no
chapter 6: please make her stop
chapter 7: annoying
chapter 8: stop acting
chapter 9: we opps now
chapter 10: what did she just say.
chapter 11: YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING
chapter 12: mom pick me up im scared
chapter 13: i hate group projects
chapter 14: can you shut the fuck up
chapter 15: delivery rider got the wrong number
chapter 16: im going to beat this bitch
chapter 17: no to group meetings, yes to detention
Pairing: Daughter of Hades!Jeung Yoonchae x Daughter of Apollo!Reader
Summary: Where no one ever imagined that the only daughter of Hades would fall for the most troublemaking, extroverted daughter of Apollo.
Note: English is not my first language.
Warnings: Sunshine x Grumpy, Yoonchae is described as taller than the reader, Manon and Daniela playing matchmakers, and lots of fluff/comfort!
Katseye Masterlist
The midday sun beat down on Camp Half-Blood with an intensity typical of August. You were lying on the grass near the archery field, arms stretched back as if trying to hug the ground itself, eyes half-closed against the golden light that insisted on invading your eyelids.
"You're going to get burned," Manon commented, sitting beside you with her legs crossed, sharpening a dagger with an expression of amused boredom.
"Daughter of Apollo, manz. Burning is kind of my thing," you replied, bringing a hand to your forehead like a dramatic soap opera damsel. "The problem is I'm dying of boredom. Where's the excitement? Where's the danger? Where's—"
"Yoonchae?" Manon finished, a mischievous smile curving her lips.
You sat up so fast you nearly got dizzy.
"I wasn't going to say that."
"Of course not," Manon rolled her eyes, but the smile remained. "You've just spent the last fifteen minutes staring at the Hades cabin like a dog waiting for its owner to come home from work."
"I'm worried about the newbie they assigned to her today. You know how Yoonchae is… intimidating."
Manon snorted a laugh.
"Yoonchae is only a threat to people who don't know what they're doing. And from what I know, the newbie is a daughter of Athena. She'll be fine."
"Still," you murmured, adjusting the strap of your bow on your shoulder. "She could come train with us today. I promised Mrs. Dawn I'd help the newbies with archery handling, and you know Yoonchae's a beast with swords. It would be the perfect pair."
Manon raised an eyebrow.
"'Perfect pair'? You mean you're going to spend the whole day openly flirting with her while the newbies watch in disbelief?"
"I don't flirt."
"You call her 'Pretty Shadow.'"
"Because she's a pretty shadow. It's a nickname."
"You bought an asphodel flower-shaped bone pendant and left it on her bed with a note that said 'even darkness has its garden.'"
You broke into a wide smile, utterly shameless.
"It was poetic."
"It was passionate. And kind of disturbing, considering asphodel flowers are associated with the Underworld."
"She liked it."
Manon opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a deep voice that seemed to cut through the hot air like a cold blade.
"Are you two going to sit there all day or are you going to work?"
You turned your head so fast you nearly cracked your neck.
Yoonchae was standing a few meters away, arms crossed over her chest, expression impenetrable. Her midnight-black hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, contrasting with pale skin that seemed to glow faintly against the sun. She wore the camp's black t-shirt—always black, because Hades would approve of nothing less—and combat pants that made it clear, even from a distance, that she wasn't there for games.
She was taller than you. A good five centimeters that you felt every time you stood on your tiptoes to whisper something in her ear or when you had to lift your chin to look her in the eyes.
Which happened often. Because you loved looking into her eyes.
"Yoonchae!" You exclaimed, jumping to your feet in a move that would make any Olympic athlete applaud. "I was just talking about you."
"I heard," she replied, dryly. "You were talking quite loudly."
"Great! Then I don't have to repeat myself." You approached her with long strides, completely ignoring the "do not approach" aura that Yoonchae emanated like perfume. "You're helping with the newbies today, right? Mrs. Dawn said you'd be my partner."
"She said she'd consider it."
"And did you consider it?"
Yoonchae held your gaze for a long second. Her dark eyes were like bottomless wells, capable of making anyone back away. Anyone but you.
"Yes," she finally answered, her voice so low it sounded like a secret. "But no funny business."
"Me? Funny business?" You placed your hand on your chest, feigning indignation. "Yoonchae, you wound me. I am professionalism itself."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
Manon slowly stood up, tucking the dagger into its sheath.
"Well, I'll leave you two with the newbies. I have to find Dani for team combat training." She passed by you and, in a quick move that Yoonchae pretended not to notice, whispered in your ear: "Archer, aim for the heart."
You smiled, and Manon disappeared toward the Aphrodite cabin with one last meaningful look.
—
Mrs. Dawn, a silver-haired nymph who coordinated newbie training, gathered the group in the main clearing. There were five new kids, all between twelve and fourteen, with wide eyes and expressions ranging from fear to excitement.
"Today," the nymph announced in a voice that echoed like bells, "you will have the honor of learning from two of the camp's best warriors. Yoonchae, daughter of Hades, will command the sword session. And Y/N, daughter of Apollo, will command the bow and arrow."
The children looked at Yoonchae with a mix of admiration and terror. She was truly imposing, standing there with the black sword hanging on her back as if it were an extension of her own body.
You, on the other hand, received more curious looks. Because you didn't look like a warrior. You looked like someone who had just walked out of a rock concert, hair tied in a messy bun, colorful bracelets on your wrist, and a smile as wide as the horizon.
"I'll take the archers," you announced, pointing to three of the children. "You, come with me. Yoonchae, you take the swordsmen?"
She just nodded, without a word, and guided the two remaining newbies to the opposite side of the clearing.
—
The next twenty minutes were… productive, as far as possible.
You taught the newbies the basic stance, correcting their arm positions and how to hold the bow with a patience that surprised even yourself. There was something gratifying about seeing the sparkle in their eyes when the arrow finally hit the target, even if it was on the outermost edge.
"Good job, Leo! Now take a deep breath before you release. Archery is about calm, not strength."
The boy, a blonde son of Hermes, nodded, clearly trying hard to imitate your technique.
While they practiced, your eyes involuntarily slid to the other side of the clearing.
Yoonchae was in her element.
She held the sword as if she had been born with it in her hand, moving with a hypnotic fluidity as she demonstrated a basic strike. The two children watched slack-jawed, and you couldn't blame them. There was something almost unreal about the way Yoonchae moved, as if darkness itself danced around her, making every gesture both beautiful and deadly.
She said something you couldn't hear, and the newbies repeated the move, clumsy in comparison but dedicated.
You were so distracted watching that you almost didn't notice when one of your newbies, a red-haired daughter of Demeter, called your name.
"Y/N? Are you okay?"
"Hm?" You blinked, bringing your focus back. "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"
"You've been looking at the other group for a long time."
The other kid, Leo, laughed.
"She's looking at Hades's daughter."
"I am not," you lied, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Damn sun. Or damn Apollo heritage. Or damn heart that couldn't disguise itself.
"You are too," the redhead insisted, a mischievous smile appearing on her lips. "Do you like her?"
"Like is a very strong word. I just… appreciate her sword technique."
"You appreciate her."
"Sofia, focus on the target before I make you run twenty laps around the lake."
The girl laughed but obeyed.
You sighed, running your hand over your face. It was getting too obvious. You needed to disguise it.
—
Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Dawn announced a break and suggested you mix the groups—archers and swordsmen could train together, simulating real combat situations.
That's when things got interesting.
"Yoonchae!" You called, running toward her before the nymph even finished the sentence. "Let's pair up for a demonstration?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"A demonstration of what?"
"How an archer and a swordsman can fight together. You in front, covering hand-to-hand attack, and me behind, providing support from a distance." You were already taking the bow off your back, eyes shining with excitement. "It'll be perfect."
Yoonchae looked at you for a long moment. Her expression was impenetrable, but you had learned to read the little things—the slight tremor in her fingers, the way her jaw relaxed a little when she was considering something.
"Only if you don't shoot an arrow into my head," she finally said.
"Yoonchae! I would never do that."
"Remember last year? During the night training?"
"That was an accident. The lantern was broken, it was dark, and you just disappeared into the darkness. How was I supposed to know you were exactly where I was going to shoot?"
"You could have warned me."
"I yelled 'SHOOTING'."
"You yelled 'CLOSE YOUR EYES, YOONCHAE'."
"Details."
She shook her head, but you saw it. You saw the corner of her lips curve, just a millimeter, just enough to be considered an almost-smile.
Your heart did a somersault.
—
The demonstration was, to use an understatement, electrifying.
You and Yoonchae moved as if you had rehearsed it your whole lives. She advanced against the moving targets Mrs. Dawn had conjured, the black sword cutting through the air with a threatening hum, while you fired golden arrows that exploded into light upon impact, covering the flanks she left open.
It was a dance. A dance of light and shadow, of sun and moon, of chaos and control.
The newbies watched slack-jawed.
"Now!" Yoonchae shouted, retreating in a quick move to open up space.
You needed nothing more. Three arrows. Three targets. Three perfect hits, each one dead center.
You turned to her with a triumphant smile, and that's when you noticed.
Yoonchae was looking at you.
Not the normal way, not with that expression of boredom or impatience she usually had. She was looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world worth seeing.
Your heart stopped for a second.
And then her expression closed up again, as if she had remembered herself, and she turned to the newbies with a cold voice:
"That's how it's done. Now you try."
—
The rest of the afternoon was a blur of arrows, swords, and excited shouts from the kids. You divided your time between teaching and observing Yoonchae, who seemed determined not to meet your gaze again.
But you were a daughter of Apollo. Persistence was in your blood.
When training ended and Mrs. Dawn dismissed the newbies, who ran off toward the dining hall, exhausted but happy, you approached Yoonchae with slow steps.
"You were great today," you said, stopping beside her.
She didn't answer immediately. She was putting her sword back in its sheath, her movements precise and economical.
"You too," she finally murmured, her voice so low you almost didn't hear.
"What?" You brought your hand to your ear, posing as if you hadn't heard properly. "Can you repeat that? I think the wind carried it away."
Yoonchae slowly turned her head, and you saw those dark eyes shining with something that could be irritation… or maybe, just maybe, amusement.
"Don't be insufferable."
"Impossible. It's my natural state."
She sighed, and it was such a human sound, so tired, that you almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
"Why do you do this?" Yoonchae asked, and for the first time that day, you heard something fragile in her voice. Something she clearly didn't want you to hear.
"Do what?"
"This." She made a vague gesture in your direction. "Talk to me. Approach me. Insist."
You frowned, confused.
"Because I like you?"
Yoonchae laughed. It was a short, bitter laugh that made your chest tighten.
"No one likes me, Y/N. At best, they tolerate me. And you…" She shook her head. "You're the brightest person I've ever known. You're the daughter of the sun, of light, of music. I am… I'm Hades's daughter. I'm darkness. I'm death."
"You're Yoonchae," you interrupted, and your voice came out firmer than you expected. "You're the person who spent three hours in the rain teaching me how to handle a sword when I broke my bow. You're the person who left a note in my cabin after I lost Lara saying I was 'strong enough to shine even in the darkness.' You're the person who—who makes me feel like the sun is rising every time you almost smile."
Yoonchae fell silent.
The wind blew, swaying her dark hair, and for a moment you could have sworn you saw her eyes shine—not with tears, but with something rarer still.
Hope.
"You're terrible," she whispered.
"I know."
"And insufferable."
"I know that too."
"And—" Yoonchae hesitated, and then, in a move that seemed to have required all the courage in the world, she reached out and touched your face. Her palm was cold, as expected of Hades's daughter, but the touch was so delicate that you felt shivers run down your spine. "And I think I like you too. Even though it's the stupidest thing I've ever done."
Your heart exploded. Literally exploded. You were sure some god somewhere was laughing at you, because there was no way someone could feel this much happiness at once.
"Yoonchae," you said, and your voice came out strangled. "Yoonchae, did you just say you like me?"
"Don't make me repeat it."
"I'll repeat it for you. I'll tell everyone. I'll write it in the clouds. I'll—"
Her hand covered your mouth.
"Don't you dare."
You laughed against her palm, and then, on an impulse you couldn't contain, you turned your head and kissed her hand.
The blush that rose to Yoonchae's cheeks was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
—
From the top of the hill, watching through a pair of binoculars that were definitely not appropriate for spying, Manon and Daniela shared a look of pure victory.
"I knew it," Manon said, a huge smile on her face.
"You didn't know anything," Daniela shot back. "You bet it would take months."
"But I hoped it would be today. That counts."
Daniela rolled her eyes, but she was smiling too.
"They're pathetic."
"Completely," Manon lowered the binoculars, watching the two figures down there—one golden and one black, so different and yet so perfectly complementary. "But they're our pathetic."
Down below, completely unaware of their secret audience, you and Yoonchae remained in silence, hand in hand, the setting sun painting the sky in shades of orange and purple.
And, for the first time in a long time, the daughter of Hades didn't feel cold.
Notes: The wait has finally come to an end! Here is part 2!! I copied it from Ellipsus so if the format is wonky it's because of that. If you see a typo, no you didn't 😀Also, this isn't proof-read, so be aware of that.
Tags: Red String of Fate, Supernatural elements, kinda soulmate AU. Angst(? (Or my attempt at it). Jealousy. Happy Ending. Useless gays being useless gays.
Word Count: 8.0k
Part 1 Here!
The world stopped being darkness, and came back slowly, but fragmented, like pieces of broken glass someone had tried to put together in an attempt to make them whole again.
(Y/N) stirred. Her body felt heavy, like it didn’t fully belong to her. Her chest rose slowly, uneven at first, before settling into something steadier. The pain from earlier was gone… or at least, it had dulled into a distant echo.
She frowned slightly. Something felt… different. It didn't feel wrong, just... open.
Her eyes fluttered, then they opened slowly. The ceiling above her was unfamiliar. It was plain, white, and a little too clean: it was a medical room.
Right, she had collapsed…
Her fingers twitched faintly against the blanket covering her. The memory of what happened came back in flashes. The studio. The sudden pull. The pain in her chest. Someone's hands catching her before she hit the ground.
Her breathing stilled for a moment. Then she turned her head slightly.
Sophia was there.
She was slumped forward in the chair beside the bed, one arm resting near (Y/N)’s side, her head tilted slightly as she slept. Her hair had fallen messily around her face, and her breathing was slow and steady.
She hadn’t left...?
For a long moment, (Y/N) just… looked at her.
There was no immediate irritation, or instinctive rejection. There was just… a quiet feeling.
Something in her chest shifted, and this time, it was soft, not painful or sharp. It was just a pull, something that guided her towards Sophia. Her gaze traced the small details without meaning to. The way Sophia’s fingers were loosely curled near the edge of the mattress. The faint crease between her brows, even in sleep, like she had been worrying.
About her.
(Y/N)’s throat tightened suddenly, like something broke inside of her. It wasn’t violent like before. It also didn’t hurt. It just… gave way. Her breath hitched, vision blurring. She blinked, confused at first, then she felt something warm sliding down the side of her face.
A...tear?
(Y/N)’s brows furrowed immediately, like her body had done something wrong. Her hand lifted weakly, brushing against her cheek, and when she touched it, she immediately recoiled, as if she had touched burning coal.
She stared at her fingers. Another breath came in, shaky this time.
Then another tear followed. And then another, followed by a tsunami of them.
Her chest tightened, not in pain, but in something far more overwhelming. It rose too fast, too uneven, like she couldn’t quite control it anymore. “What…?” Her voice came out barely above a whisper as more tears fell.
Her breathing started to break apart, small, uneven inhales that didn’t quite reach her lungs properly. Her fingers curled weakly into the blanket.
This wasn’t normal.
She didn’t cry.
She had never...
A soft sound escaped her throat before she could stop it. Her hand flew to her mouth immediately, like she could shove it back in. But it didn’t stop, as the tears kept coming.
Years of quiet detachment, of empty reactions, of emotions that had never fully formed... they crashed down all at once.
Her shoulders trembled, and her chest rose sharply as something deep inside her finally surfaced, raw and unfiltered. She didn’t even understand what she was feeling, since there was no clear sadness, no single reason. Just… everything was so overwhelming right now. A broken, quiet sob slipped through her fingers.
That’s what woke Sophia.
She shifted slightly, brows pulling together before her eyes slowly opened. It took her a second to register where she was or what she was doing there, but then she saw (Y/N), and her back straightened instantly. “Hey-” Her voice softened immediately.
(Y/N) froze like she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.
Their eyes met.
Sophia’s expression changed in an instant. The leftover sleep vanished, replaced by something much sharper: concern. “…You’re crying.”
(Y/N)’s breath hitched again. She shook her head weakly, even as more tears slipped down her face. “I’m not-” Her voice broke, stopping her from continuing.
Sophia didn’t move right away, as if she was afraid that if she did, (Y/N) would break down even worse. “…Hey,” she said again, softer this time. “It’s okay.”
(Y/N)’s fingers clenched tighter into the blanket.
No, this wasn't okay. Nothing about this felt okay. Her chest felt too full, too open, like something had been forced apart inside her and now she couldn’t close it again. “I don’t-” she tried again, but her voice trembled. “I don’t know what this is...!”
Sophia’s heart tightened at the sound of that.
She leaned forward slightly, careful and slow. “I’m here,” she said quietly.
It was those simple words that made something inside (Y/N) react immediately.
The pull returned, stronger this time. Her breath caught, but this time it wasn’t painful. It was… different. Warm and soft, and the most terrifying part? She knew that this was how it was supposed to feel from the beginning.
Her eyes flickered toward Sophia’s hand, still resting near the edge of the bed. She was close. Too close for comfort.
Her chest tightened again, but not in the way she had learned to hate, this time it felt like the pull inside her chest was the gravity holding her down. Her fingers loosened their grip on the blanket.
She didn’t think, and she didn’t analyze, she didn’t stop herself. She just moved.
She moved slowly, like she wasn’t entirely in control of it, (Y/N) pushed herself up slightly, her body still weak but responding to that pull without resistance.
Sophia’s eyes widened just a little. “Hey- be careful,”
But (Y/N) didn’t stop, in fact, she leaned closer. And closer. Close enough to feel Sophia's breath.
Speaking of her, Sophia went completely still.
Their faces were inches apart now...
(Y/N)’s tears had slowed, but her eyes were still glassy, unfocused in a way that made her look vulnerable in a way she had never allowed herself to be before. But then, her gaze dropped briefly to Sophia’s lips. Her breath caught, releasing a slight gasp that made Sophia blush.
The pull tightened as her chest rose sharply.
What is this…?
She didn’t understand it, and she didn’t have a word for it. And she also didn’t have the instinct to stop it.
So she leaned in, and then...
Footsteps and voices, right outside the door.
(Y/N) froze, reality rushing back all at once. Her eyes widened slightly, like she had just woken up from something she didn’t want to wake up from. She pulled back abruptly, too fast for her already weakened body's liking.
Sophia blinked, still frozen in place for a second longer before she quickly sat back in her chair, her own heartbeat suddenly loud in her ears.
Neither of them spoke. The air between them felt… different now. It was charged with an unspoken feeling.
Then the door handle turned.
(Y/N) looked away immediately, wiping at her face quickly, like she could erase what had just happened, but she still felt open, still felt vulnerable, and still felt the pulling of her heart towards the girl across from her.
Speaking of which, Sophia couldn’t stop thinking about how close they had just been.
Or why part of her hadn’t wanted to move away.
The door opened, as voices spilled into the room quickly.
“Is she awake?”
(Y/N) flinched at the sudden noise, her body going rigid as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. The warmth that had lingered in her chest seconds ago twisted sharply, shrinking inward, tightening again, but not the same as before. Not empty, but rather, hidden.
Sophia stepped back immediately, too fast and careless.
Her chair scraped lightly against the floor as she put distance between them, like the last few seconds hadn’t just happened. Like she hadn’t been close enough to feel (Y/N)’s breath.
Like she hadn’t almost...
She swallowed the thought before it could finish forming.
The medical staff moved in quickly. One of them stepped beside the bed, checking the monitor, another gently guiding Sophia further aside.
“Let us take a look.”
Sophia nodded quickly, stepping back without protest. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” But her eyes didn’t leave (Y/N), not even for a second.
(Y/N) turned her head away almost immediately, her gaze fixing on the opposite wall. Her fingers curled tightly into the thin hospital blanket, knuckles paling. Her face felt hot. Too hot for her liking.
“Can you hear me?” one of the staff members asked gently, leaning slightly into her line of sight.
(Y/N) forced her expression to flatten. “Yes.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“Medical room.”
“Good. Do you remember what happened?”
A pause. (Y/N)’s fingers tightened into the blanket again. “…I felt dizzy” she said finally. “Then I collapsed.”
It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.
The staff member nodded, jotting something down on a clipboard. “Any chest pain now?”
(Y/N) hesitated. For a split second, her eyes flickered slightly to where Sophia stood. Their gazes almost met. She looked away first. “…No,” she said.
Sophia’s brows pulled together faintly. That wasn’t true. She had seen it, almost felt it when she touched her. That reaction hadn’t been dizziness. It was-
Her thoughts cut off again.
The staff continued their checks, routine questions, measuring vitals, shining a small light briefly into her eyes.
“Your heart rate’s stabilizing,” one of them murmured.
“Probably overexertion,” another added. “You’ve been training pretty intensely, right?”
(Y/N) nodded once.
That explanation settled into the room far too easily.
“Stress can do that,” the doctor one continued. “Especially under pressure. Lack of sleep, dehydration…”
Their voices blurred slightly as they spoke. (Y/N) stared straight ahead. Stress? Overexertion? Dehydration? Those words should have made sense. Except they didn’t. Because none of those things explained-
Her throat tightened suddenly, but she swallowed it down. “…I’m fine,” she said quietly.
The staff exchanged brief glances.
“We’ll keep you here for a bit longer just to be safe,” one of them said. “But if everything stays stable, you should be able to return later today. Just take it easy.”
(Y/N) nodded again. “Okay.” Simple, normal... like nothing had happened.
Behind them, the door creaked open again, slower this time. A few familiar voices slipped in.
“Can we come in?”
“Is she okay?”
Karlee, Emily and Megan. Their faces filled with concern, curiosity and anxiety. They hovered near the doorway at first, waiting for permission before stepping inside.
“Just for a minute,” one of the staff allowed.
They rushed in immediately.
“Oh my god, you scared us!” Emily said, already halfway to the bed.
“Are you okay?” Megan added quickly.
Karlee held up the water bottle like an offering. “Here, drink this.”
(Y/N) blinked once, the sudden attention washing over her in a way that felt… unfamiliar. Not overwhelming. Not irritating. Just… there.
Her fingers loosened around the blanket as she reached out and took the bottle. “…Thanks,” she said quietly. She didn’t realize it at first, but there was a slight lift at the corner of her lips. Small, barely even there.
Karlee froze.
Megan blinked.
Emily's head tilted slightly.
There was a pause. A long and strange one.
“...Wait,” Emily said slowly.
(Y/N) looked up, confused. “…What?”
Karlee leaned in a little, squinting at her face like she was trying to confirm something. “Did you just…?”
Megan's eyes widened. “You’re smiling.”
(Y/N)’s expression changed to one of confusion. “…No, I’m not.”
“You literally are,” Emily said, pointing at her like she’d just caught her doing something illegal.
“I’m not-”
“Yes, you are!” Emily cut in, half laughing now, half confused. “I’ve never seen you smile before.”
“That’s not-” (Y/N) stopped. Because she didn’t have a response. Her fingers tightened slightly around the water bottle. Her chest felt… warm. Not tight or painful, just warm. That wasn’t normal.
Karlee leaned closer, narrowing her eyes. “Okay, hold on. This is weird.”
Emily nodded immediately. “Yeah, no, something’s off.”
(Y/N)’s brows pulled together slightly. “What are you talking about?”
“You,” Megan said simply. “You’re talking.”
“…I always talk.”
“Not like this,” Emily shot back.
Karlee tilted her head, studying her more carefully now. “Are you feeling okay?”
That word made something shift faintly inside her chest. Different.
(Y/N) frowned slightly. “I’m not.”
Emily reached forward suddenly, pressing the back of her hand lightly against (Y/N)’s forehead.
(Y/N) blinked in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Checking if you have a fever,” Emily said seriously.
“I don’t...”
“You’re smiling,” Emily repeated, like that alone was proof of something being medically wrong.
Megan nodded. “Yeah, that’s not normal.”
Karlee crossed her arms. “You might be delirious.”
“I’m not delirious.”
“Then explain the smile.”
(Y/N) opened her mouth, then closed it, because she couldn’t explain it. Her chest tightened slightly, but not in pain. Her fingers loosened their grip on the bottle.
“You just passed out and now you’re smiling for no reason,” Karlee pointed out. “That’s suspicious.”
(Y/N)’s brows furrowed deeper.
For a brief second, her gaze flickered, just slightly, past them and towards Sophia. Their eyes met, and there it was again. That pull, soft and warm. Her breath caught. Without realizing it, the small smile returned, softer this time, but unintentional.
Sophia went completely still.
Behind her, Emily made a noise like she’d just witnessed something shocking. “...Oh my god, she did it again!”
(Y/N)’s eyes snapped away immediately. The warmth in her chest flickered, unstable now. Her fingers tightened into the blanket again.
Karlee exchanged a look with the others. “Yeah… you’re not fine,” she said quietly.
The room fell into a brief, uneasy silence.
Because now, it wasn’t just concern, it was confusion. Something had changed in (Y/N) and everyone could see it, even if none of them understood why.
The staff cleared their throat. “Alright, let’s give her some space.”
Reluctantly, the girls began to leave.
“Text us if you need anything,” Megan said.
“Yeah, don’t just disappear again,” Emily added.
Karlee lingered for a second longer, then nodded. “Please, rest.”
The door closed behind them. That's when the same uncomfortable silence returned.
(Y/N) stared down at the bottle in her hands. For a moment, there was nothing. But then, the same awareness, slow and persistent, came rushing back in, like a bullet going through her chest.
She knew where Sophia was without looking: left side of the room, near the wall. She was a few steps away, but not close enough. Her fingers twitched.
“…You smiled.” She heard Sophia's voice say.
(Y/N) went still. She didn’t look up. “…No, I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t.” There was a pause. “It doesn’t mean anything,” she added quickly.
“I didn’t say it did.” Sophia said.
Her chest pulled again. Annoying... She thought. (Y/N) finally looked up. Sophia was closer now, not by much, but enough that the tension in her chest eased slightly. She noticed that immediately, and hated it. “I’m fine,” (Y/N) said.
“That’s not what I’m asking.” Sophia said.
“Then don’t ask.”
Sophia frowned slightly. “Earlier, when you-”
“Don’t.” The word came out sharp and immediate. (Y/N)’s grip on the bottle tightened again.
Sophia shifted slightly, taking a step back. Her arm rubbing her shoulder, as if she had been defeated by something.
(Y/N) reacted instantly. “…Stay,” she said suddenly, the word slipping out before she could stop it. Silence followed, one that made her feel flustered.
Sophia blinked. “…What?”
(Y/N) froze, like a deer caught in headlights. Her mind had caught up too late. “I didn’t-”
Sophia didn’t move. “…You want me to stay?” she asked quietly.
(Y/N)’s jaw clenched. “No.” A second passed. Then it was followed by: “You’re just… in the way!” The excuse was laughable, even to herself.
Sophia didn't call her out, she just tilted her head to the side, and proceeded to step closer. One torturous step at a time, she got closer to (Y/N). The distance between them closed slowly.
Something about the way (Y/N) had said 'stay' lingered in the air, quiet but heavy, like it had meant more than she was willing to admit. So Sophia moved carefully, watching her, giving her time to pull back if she wanted to.
She didn’t.
(Y/N)'s shoulders tensed, then dropped too quickly, like her body couldn’t decide what it was supposed to do. Her fingers tightened around the bottle, then loosened again, her gaze flickering everywhere but where it should. Not at Sophia. Anywhere but at Sophia.
"…You’re doing it again,” Sophia said softly.
(Y/N)’s brows pulled together, but she still didn’t look at her. “…Doing what?”
Sophia stopped just beside the bed. “You won’t look at me.”
“I am,” (Y/N) muttered immediately. Her eyes darted up for half a second, just enough to meet Sophia’s, and then dropped again like she’d been burned by the mere sight of her.
Sophia noticed everything.
The way her fingers kept twitching. The way her breathing wouldn’t settle. The way she kept trying, and failing, to act normal, to go back to her usual aloof and cold nature.
“…Can I?” Sophia asked quietly.
(Y/N) frowned. “…Can you what?”
Sophia hesitated, then slowly reached out. Her hand hovered for a moment before gently wrapping around (Y/N)’s wrist. (Y/N)’s breath caught sharply, her entire body stilled. She didn't relax, she didn't lean in, as she was completely frozen in place. Her eyes widened slightly as she stared down at where Sophia was touching her, like she couldn’t process it. Her grip on the bottle slackened completely.
(Y/N) swallowed, as her throat felt dry. “…I-” she muttered, but there was no force behind it. (Y/N)’s fingers twitched. (Y/N)’s gaze drifted again, slower this time. From Sophia’s hand, up to her arm, to her face... then immediately away again, her cheeks feeling warm. Her brows furrowed slightly, like she was irritated at her own reaction.
This was stupid. Why was she reacting like this?
“…You’re too close,” she said under her breath.
Sophia tilted her head.
(Y/N) finally looked at her properly this time, and immediately regretted it. Sophia was right there. Her expression softer than usual, but her eyes… focused. Watching her carefully, like she was trying to understand something.
(Y/N)’s breath hitched again. Her stomach twisted as she caught a glimpse of Sophia's lips. She looked away so fast it almost hurt. The silence stretched again, heavy, but not uncomfortable.
Sophia’s eyes drifted, even if it was just for a second, to (Y/N)’s lips then back up. “…(Y/N)…?” she said softly.
No response. (Y/N) was staring at her now, with an intense lack of confidence, but she didn't look away either. Sophia hesitated. Just for a second. Then, she made a decision.
Slowly she inched closer. Close enough that there was almost no space left between them.
(Y/N)’s eyes widened slightly, her body going completely still. “…Sophia-” she started, but her voice faltered immediately.
Sophia’s free hand lifted, hesitating for only a moment before gently brushing against (Y/N)’s cheek, warm and soft. (Y/N) froze, her breath caught sharply. She didn’t move, didn't lean in, or pull away; she just... stayed. Sophia watched her carefully, waiting for her to stop Sophia from what she was about to do.
She didn’t. And that was enough.
Sophia leaned in, their noses brushed. Sophia hesitated for half a heartbeat, then closed the distance, and their lips met, softly and tentatively, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to do this.
(Y/N) didn’t react. Her entire body felt locked in place, like her brain had short-circuited. That was enough for Sophia.
Sophia’s hesitation broke. Her hand at (Y/N)’s cheek shifted slightly, steadying her as she leaned in again, firmer this time, more certain.
Sophia felt it. She felt her chest pulling her towards (Y/N) further, as if she desired to become one with her. That was the moment something shifted. Her hand slid slightly, more secure now, holding her there as the kiss deepened just a fraction more...
...Before they heard the doorknob rattle.
Sophia reacted first and pulled back. Not abruptly, but fast enough to break the connection, her hand slipping from where it held (Y/N), like she had suddenly remembered where they were. Her breath hitched slightly as distance rushed in all at once.
(Y/N) didn’t move, and stayed exactly where she was.
Lips parted slightly, eyes unfocused, her body still leaning forward just enough to show she hadn’t been the one to end it. The warmth that had flooded her chest lingered, but now it felt incomplete.
"Miss, visiting hours are over." A nurse said, urging Sophia out of the room.
The moment shattered completely.
Sophia stepped back, putting just enough distance between them to look normal, but not enough to steady her own heartbeat. (Y/N) didn't move still, completely stunned.
Sophia grabbed her backpack and her phone, rushing out the door before the nurse could get suspicious about them. She looked back at (Y/N) before she left, closing the door carefully behind her.
The room felt different after she left…
The door had closed minutes ago, voices fading down the hallway until there was nothing left but the faint echo of her own breathing.
(Y/N) didn’t move at first. She stayed exactly where she had been, sitting upright in the bed, eyes fixed somewhere ahead but not really seeing anything.
Then, slowly her hand lifted. It hovered for a second, like she wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing… before her fingers brushed lightly against her lips. She froze, her breath hitched. The warmth was still there, faint and unmistakable.
Her fingers pressed slightly, as if testing it, like she expected it to disappear if she didn’t hold onto it.
It didn’t.
Her pulse quickened. Her brows furrowed faintly, confusion flickering across her face… but it didn’t last long. Because beneath it, something else was forming. Her fingers traced the spot again, slower this time.
A small smile appeared, but it felt wrong and unfamiliar on her face, like something had clicked into place inside her. Her fingers pressed harder against her lips, her pulse jumping, faster now.
Now, there was only that feeling, looping, replaying... her eyes flickered, unfocused for a moment. Then sharpened. Her smile widened just a fraction. “I…” she started, then stopped, the words dying in her throat.
But the feeling didn’t.
Her smile returned. “…I want…” she whispered, but didn’t finish it. She didn’t have the words for it yet, but the thought was already there.
…And for the first time in her life, (Y/N) didn’t try to push it away.
The training room felt too loud.
Not in the way it usually did, with music blasting and people moving in sync. No, this was different. The noise pressed in, unfocused, like it didn’t belong anywhere. Voices overlapped, laughter bounced off the walls, shoes squeaked against the floor.
(Y/N) stood near the mirrored wall, arms loosely crossed, her reflection staring back at her like it was someone else entirely.
She wasn’t paying attention, when she should have been. The instructor had already called counts twice. Karlee had nudged her once. Emily had said something she didn’t catch when they both went to get water. None of it stuck.
Because...
Her eyes shifted, neither consciously nor intentionally, just… drawn cross the room.
Sophia stood near the far side, her back half-turned, talking to someone.
(Y/N)’s gaze settled.
Yoonchae.
They were close. Closer than necessary.
Yoonchae said something, speaking in a quiet tone so only they could hear, and Sophia laughed. Her laugh was loud and boisterous; it was real.
Something in (Y/N)’s chest tightened, her fingers curled slightly against her arms.
Yoonchae leaned in a little, nudging Sophia’s shoulder lightly. “You’re so annoying,” she said, smiling.
Sophia bumped her back. “You started it.” Another laugh.
(Y/N)’s jaw tightened. Her focus narrowed, the rest of the room blurring at the edges. The mirror didn’t matter. The music didn’t matter. The people didn’t matter. She was so focused on them she forgot to even breathe.
Her chest pulled again, but it wasn’t soft this time. It wasn’t warm, and it felt wrong, too sharp at the edges, pressing inward like something was folding in on itself.
Why...?
Her brows furrowed slightly. Why was she standing so close to her?
Her grip tightened. The faint crinkle of fabric under her fingers went unnoticed.
Sophia smiled again.
(Y/N)’s breath slowed, uneven.
She doesn’t smile like that… the thought came uninvited, but it sat there, heavy, as her gaze sharpened, proceeded by a: …not with me.
A voice called from somewhere. “Positions!”
No response.
“(Y/N)?” Karlee’s voice this time, sharper.
(Y/N) didn’t move. Her eyes were still locked across the room.
Yoonchae said something else, quieter this time. Sophia leaned in to hear her, their shoulders brushing again. Too close...
The dance instructor called them all once again, and (Y/N) bitterly took her place in the Antifragile formation. She felt herself become poisoned by the feeling in her chest, and it didn't help that whenever she took a peek at the other side of the room, Sophia and Yoonchae were still talking.
The music started, loud and chaotic.
"Five, six, seven, eight!"
(Y/N) moved how she knew how to: based on pure instinct. Her body followed the choreography, steps hitting when they where supposed to, turns landing barely on time. But it felt off, disconnected, like she was watching herself from somewhere outside her own body.
Her eyes kept drifting, even if she didn't mean them to, and even if she wasn't trying to, but they did. Again and again, across the room.
Sophia laughed, the sound counting through everything else.
(Y/N)'s steps faltered.
"(Y/N), focus." The instructor snapped.
She corrected her position immediately. "Sorry" She muttered, but her voice sounded distant, even to herself.
Her chest tightened again, sharper now, uncomfortable. Her fingers curled slightly as she moved into the next sequence, as if she wanted nothing more than to grab the air itself; her muscles were stiff, too controlled and too rigid for her to execute the moves properly.
Why is she still there…?
Her gaze flickered back to Yoonchae again, who was now leaning against Sophia. Like it was nothing. Like it meant nothing. On her part, Sophia didn't move away, she smiled. (Y/N)'s breath hitched.
"Stop."
The music cut, the sudden silence ringing in her ears.
The instructor sighed, rubbing his temple. “Again. From the top. And (Y/N),” his eyes landed on her, “if you’re going to be here, then be here.”
A few of the girls shifted awkwardly.
(Y/N) nodded once. “Yes.” But her hands had already curled into fists.
Her chest felt wrong, like something was tightening around her heart, constricting it, making everything else feel like a sensory nightmare.
“Positions.”
Everyone reset.
(Y/N) stepped back into place, her reflection staring at her from the mirror. It looked the same, but it didn’t feel the same.
“Five, six,”
Her eyes moved again, straight to Sophia. She didn’t even fight it this time.
And, then... Yoonchae leaned in again. Sophia tilted her head, listening, her lips curving into something softer this time. Something that made (Y/N)’s chest snap.
The pull twisted violently, her breath cutting off. Her foot missed the step entirely. The next movement came too late, taking her balance with it.
Her ankle twisted slightly as she landed wrong, her body pitching forward before she could stop it, but before she could land flat on the ground, she felt hands around her, warm and familiar, catching her before she hit the floor. Everything stopped.
(Y/N)’s fingers instinctively grabbed onto the fabric beneath them, tightening as her balance steadied against... Sophia. Of course. At this point the world had an unfunny way of mocking her.
“Careful,” Sophia said softly, her voice right there, too close to her ear.
(Y/N)’s breath hitched. Her fingers didn’t let go.
“…I’m fine,” she muttered, but she didn’t move away.
Sophia didn’t either.
For a second or two, neither of them did anything. The room had gone quiet again, enough that people were watching.
“Take five,” the instructor called, clearly done. “Reset.”
The others used this opportunity to go outside and buy snacks, Emily calling out to Yoonchae to accompany them, leaving Sophia and (Y/N) alone in the coldness of the dance studio.
(Y/N) was still holding onto her, her grip loosened slowly. then, as if it was inevitable, Sophia noticed something.
“…You’re shaking,” she said quietly.
(Y/N)’s brows furrowed immediately. “I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I said I’m not.” But her fingers twitched again, betraying her.
Sophia hesitated for a moment, then gently adjusted her hold, steadying her more properly this time instead of letting go.
“…Why were you staring?” Sophia asked, softer now.
Sophia tilted her head slightly, studying her. “You only mess up when you look at me.”
That made something in her chest twist violently.
“…Then I just won’t look,” (Y/N) said flatly.
She moved to step back, but Sophia’s hand caught her wrist. (Y/N) stopped immediately, her breath stuttered.
“…Don’t,” Sophia said quietly.
(Y/N)’s fingers curled slightly. “…Don’t what?”
“Don’t do that,” she said. “Act like nothing’s happening.”
“Nothing is happening.”
Sophia’s grip tightened just a fraction.
(Y/N) felt it. Her pulse jumped.
“Then why do you look like that?” Sophia pressed.
“…Like what?”
“Like you’re about to-” she stopped herself, her brows pulling together slightly. “I don’t know.”
(Y/N)’s jaw clenched, because she didn’t know either. Her chest felt too open again.
“…You’re annoying,” she muttered under her breath.
Sophia blinked. “…What?”
“You keep-” (Y/N) stopped, her voice catching unexpectedly. Her brows furrowed deeper, frustration flashing across her face. “You keep doing things.”
Sophia frowned. “Doing what?”
(Y/N) didn’t answer, because she couldn’t. Her gaze dropped, then lifted again...
...to Sophia’s lips.
Her fingers tightened slightly against Sophia’s wrist now instead. Sophia noticed immediately.
“…(Y/N),” she said softly.
(Y/N) didn’t respond, it was like she was frozen in time. Sophia stepped closer. (Y/N)’s breath stuttered again, her body didn't retreat nor did it resist. It just stayed frozen.
Sophia’s free hand lifted slowly, hesitating only for a second before brushing lightly against the side of (Y/N)’s face, fingers grazing her cheek. (Y/N)’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t stop her.
Her lips parted just a little.
Sophia noticed that too. Her own breath softened.
“Tell me to stop,” she whispered.
(Y/N)'s throat tightened. The word sat there, heavily pressing against her heart. She didn't know how to move past this.
Stop. That's what she should say. She knew she should have opened her mouth to say it, but she just… couldn't. Here, with all these people just outside the practice room… (Y/N) was practically frozen in place.
Her breath came uneven, shallow, her gaze flickering once to Sophia’s lips before snapping back up, like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.
“I…” she started, but nothing came out.
Sophia didn't move, instead, she watched (Y/N). She remembered how aloof she used to be, and how she always had a permanent scowl on her face, deterring people from getting close to her. But, now?
The young woman felt the back of her neck become hot, her face feverishly so, emanating a heat that was impossible to mask. Her gaze broke away from Sophia, darting towards the floor, as if she was searching for an immediate exit from the situation. Her eyes narrowed slightly, blinking rapidly against the sting of self-consciousness that attacked her.
This was almost laughable. The (Y/N) who was so high and mighty, the (Y/N) who everyone saw as a cool girl… was now this?
Sophia laughed slightly, a genuine smile forming on her face. (Y/N) didn't take that well.
"What are you laughing about?" She said, her face becoming even more heated.
Sophia smiled at that, and said: "You're cute." She leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to (Y/N)'s cheek.
What followed was Sophia pressing her forehead against (Y/N)'s tenderly, looking at her in the eyes, waiting. She waited for (Y/N) to push her away, to protest, to do something. But that never came. (Y/N)'s body had gone completely still, acting like if she moved, everything would shatter around them.
"Sophia…" Was everything that came out. It wasn't a protest, nor was it a warning, but rather, a plea.
Sophia responded by leaning in, meeting (Y/N)'s lips, soft and tentative, like the first time hadn't been enough to confirm it was real.
(Y/N) was still frozen in place, but this time, she gathered up the courage to move her fingers, which tightened around Sophia's wrist, pulling her closer. It was a small gesture, but it gave Sophia permission to continue. That changed everything. Her breath caught against the kiss, hesitation breaking completely as she leaned in just a little more, her hand at (Y/N)’s cheek steadying her.
The warmth came back, stronger and overwhelming.
(Y/N)’s chest tightened, but it didn’t hurt. It spread instead, fast and unfamiliar, filling everything, making it hard to think, hard to breathe, and even harder to pull away.
So she didn’t.
Her lips parted slightly without meaning to, and a soft, unsteady gasp slipped between them. Sophia stilled from a fraction of a second. Careful and slow, like she was testing something fragile, she introduced her tongue inside (Y/N)'s mouth.
(Y/N)'s grip let go of her wrist, only to take Sophia's hand, as if she were grounding herself, as if gravity itself was about to disappear and take her with it. She didn't let go, as her mind had gone completely blank, no thoughts dared to pass.
And just for this time, she leaned in, just barely.
The kiss deepened, not in a forceful or rushed way, but certainty now. No hesitation left, just a quiet growing intensity that made the world around them feel empty, and the air surrounding them feel too thin. (Y/N)’s breath broke again, her chest rising sharply as that feeling surged, stronger than before, almost too much.
"Okay, break's over!" The dance instructor's voice cut through the room.
Sophia pulled back immediately, fast and confident, she went towards the others, asking them what they had brought back from their snack run.
(Y/N) didn’t move. Her body stayed exactly where it was, leaning forward slightly, lips parted, eyes unfocused like she hadn’t fully come back yet. Reality rushed in all at once; voices, her fellow trainees, eyes, people.
Her chest felt full with that weird sentiment again, but it was mixed with something else now. She had noticed how quickly Sophia had stepped back from her, as if nothing had happened. Again, like she hadn't just…
(Y/N)'s chest hurt as it tightened sharply. It wasn't warm or soft, this time it hurt. It hurt like nothing she had ever experienced before, and weirdly enough, she wanted more of it.
Sophia entered her room, the door shutting behind her with a quiet click, followed by a silence that felt too loud. She stood there for a second, her hand resting on the handle, chest rising unevenly like she had just run a marathon.
"What the hell was that…?" She muttered under her breath.
Her hand dropped form the handle slowly, dejected. She looked around her room, which felt smaller than usual, the air heavier, giving it all a claustrophobic feel. Everything felt out of hand and messy, and she couldn't fix it.
Sophia exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down her face before letting it rest at the back of her neck, fingers pressing in like she could ground herself there. None of it helped, since, when she closed her eyes, it came back: the image of (Y/N), her gripping her hand, the way she hadn't said stop, they way she had actually pulled her closer…
Her hand dropped immediately.
"Nope," she said quickly, shaking her head as if she could get all her thoughts out that way. "No, we're not doing that." She began pacing across the room, combing her fingers through her hair again and again, not knowing what to do to calm her nerves. "That doesn't mean anything." She murmured.
Except it obviously did.
Her gaze dropped to the floor. Feeling ashamed of herself, she released a groan.
The sound of the door opening made her head snap up.
Lara stepped in like she owned the place, closing the door behind her without a word.
Sophia blinked once. “…Do you how to knock?”
“I do,” Lara said casually, already walking further into the room. “Didn’t feel necessary.”
Sophia straightened slightly, immediately defensive. “What do you want?”
Lara shrugged, leaning back lightly against the wall. “Came to check if you were okay.”
"I'm fine." Sophia said, sitting down on her bed, the sound of the mattress dipping under her weight the only sound in the room.
"Mhmm…" Lara hummed, crossing her arms.
"I know you don't believe me, but I won't argue with you." Sophia said.
"I believe that you think you're fine." Lara answered back, earning herself another groan from Sophia.
"You're annoying." Sophia complained.
"I've been told so." Lara said. Sophia could hear the smile on her face.
There was a pause, then, Sophia let herself drop onto the bed, staring at the bottom of the bed above. Her fingers fidgeted slightly with the sleeve of her hoodie, tugging at the fabric without realizing it. Lara noticed.
Of course she did.
“…So,” Lara said after a moment, tone still light, “you gonna tell me what happened, or are we pretending you always act so angsty?”
"I'm not angsty." Sophia retaliated. "I just need some air."
"In your room?" Lara asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sophia exhaled through her nose. "You're not funny…" There was a pause there, which Sophia used to think over what she was going to say next, or if she was even going to speak to Lara. She slowly shifted her weight on the bed. "…She's acting weird."
Lara didn't react much to that. "You mean (Y/N)?"
Sophia shot a look at Lara that asked 'who else could it be?' then proceeded to run a hand through her hair, sitting up on the bed. "She's been… acting different since earlier."
"Different how?"
Sophia hesitated, because if she said it out loud, it meant she had to acknowledge it. "She looks at me…" She said after some deliberation.
Lara blinked once. "Okay?"
"No, like-" Sophia frowned, frustrated. "Not in a normal way. It's like she doesn't even realize she's looking at me."
Lara hummed softly in acknowledgement. "And that bothers you?"
"No…" Sophia said immediately, almost too fast, making Lara's brow lift again. "It's just weird." She continued. "And she only does it with me…"
The corner of Lara's lips twitched slightly. "Really?"
Sophia noticed. "What…?" She narrowed her eyes at her friend.
"Nothing," Lara said, as if she had been caught stealing. "Go on."
Sophia stared at her for a second longer before looking away again. “…She keeps messing up when I’m around. And then she gets mad about it. At me.”
“That does sound like a very (Y/N) thing to do.”
“…And she told me to stay.” That slipped out quieter.
Lara didn’t miss it. "And you stayed?"
"…Yeah." Sophia sighed.
Another pause. Then Lara spoke: "So what's the problem?"
Sophia blinked. “…What do you mean, what’s the problem?”
“You’re acting like something’s wrong.”
“Something is wrong,” Sophia said, letting out a small, incredulous laugh. “She’s not like that.”
“People can change.”
“Not overnight!” Sophia argued back.
Lara shrugged. “Sometimes they do.”
Sophia shook her head. “No, this is different.”
“How?”
Sophia opened her mouth, then stopped, because the answer was right there. Her chest tightened again. “…She kissed me,” she said finally.
The words settled into the room.
Lara was quiet for a second. "Okay?" She said simply.
"…That's all you have to say?" Sophia blinked once.
"What were you expecting? Do you want me to panic for you? Because I feel like you're already doing a good job at that." Lara let out a small smile, then asked: "Did something else happen?"
Sophia hesitated again, her fingers curling slightly on her sleeve. “…She didn’t stop me,” she said, softer now. “I told her to tell me to stop.”
“And?” Lara asked, failing to see the problem.
“She didn’t.”
Lara nodded once. “And that’s… bad?”
“I don’t know!” Sophia snapped, frustration breaking through. “She doesn’t do that. She doesn’t feel things like that. She barely even-” she cut herself off, exhaling sharply. “And now she’s looking at me like that and I don’t know what that means.”
Lara watched her quietly.
Then, she said something that made Sophia stop in her tracks: “…What do you want it to mean?”
Sophia looked down, slightly ashamed, slightly embarrassed. "I don't know…" she admitted.
Lara nodded slightly, like that answer made more sense than everything else. “That’s fine,” she said.
Sophia frowned faintly. “…That’s not helpful.”
Lara replied easily. “You’re not asking the right question yet.”
“…Then what is it?”
Lara tilted her head slightly. Her voice softened, just slightly. “Are you trying to figure her out… or yourself?”
Sophia didn’t respond to that. She didn’t need to.
Lara hummed quietly, pushing herself off the wall. “You don’t have to decide anything right now.”
Sophia glanced up.
“You just have to stop pretending nothing happened,” Lara added.
Her gaze lingered for a second, then she turned, heading for the door. She paused just before opening it. “…For what it’s worth,” Lara said without looking back, “I don't think she's confused about you, I think she's confused about your intentions.” Lara exited to room, the door clicking shut softly, and just like that, Sophia was alone again.
The silence returned, heavier, and far more uncomfortable than before. Because her thoughts were louder and messier, and no matter how she tried to push them down, one thing didn't go away: the way (Y/N) had held her hand like she didn’t want her to leave.
Sophia exhaled slowly, sitting down on the edge of her bed, her hands resting loosely in her lap.
“…I’m in trouble,” she muttered under her breath.
The door room was quiet. (Y/N) sat on the edge of her bed, elbows resting on her knees, fingers loosely intertwined. She hadn’t changed out of her training clothes. Her hair was still slightly damp at the ends.
She had be dissociating for a while.
The sudden knocking on the door was what pulled her out of her reverie.
Sophia stepped in, pausing just inside the doorway like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to come in. For a second, neither of them spoke.
“…Hey,” Sophia said.
(Y/N) nodded once. “…Hey.”
Silence followed, long and heavy.
Sophia shifted her weight slightly. “I can...uh, come back later if you’re-”
“Don’t.” The word came out quick and automatic.
Both of them froze.
(Y/N)’s brows furrowed immediately, like she hadn’t meant to say it like that. “Just... don’t,” she repeated, quieter this time.
Sophia didn’t move. “…Okay.”
Another wave of silence, but this one felt different. (Y/N)’s fingers tightened slightly against each other. Then loosened. Then tightened again. “…This is annoying,” she muttered under her breath.
Sophia blinked. “…What is?”
(Y/N) exhaled sharply, like the answer was obvious and frustrating all at once. “You.”
Sophia almost smiled. “Yeah, I figured.”
“That’s not-” (Y/N) stopped, jaw tightening. “…That’s not what I mean.”
Sophia didn’t interrupt this time. (Y/N)’s gaze dropped to the floor. Her fingers curled slightly against her palms. “…Something’s wrong,” she said finally.
Sophia’s expression softened. “With you?”
“…No,” (Y/N) said immediately. Then, after a pause: “…Yes.”
That made Sophia’s chest tighten just a little.
(Y/N) frowned deeper, like she was trying to force the words out and they just wouldn’t cooperate. “…I don’t know what this is,” she admitted. Her hand lifted slightly, pressing lightly against her chest. “It keeps… doing that,” she said, quieter now. “Every time you’re there.”
Sophia didn’t speak. She didn’t move.
“…And I don’t like it,” (Y/N) added quickly. A second went past. “…But I don’t want it to stop.”
That last sentence hung in the air, heavy, but also real.
Sophia’s breath softened. “…Okay.”
(Y/N)’s brows pulled together. “…Okay?”
Sophia nodded slightly. “Yeah.”
“That’s it?” (Y/N) frowned.
Sophia let out a quiet breath. “I mean… I don’t understand it either.”
That caught her attention. (Y/N) looked up.
“For me,” Sophia continued, softer now, “it’s not confusing in the same way… but it’s still a lot.” She hesitated, then added: “But I meant it." She looked at (Y/N), “The kiss,” Sophia added simply.
(Y/N)’s breath hitched slightly. “…Oh.” She felt herself become a mess, but still, she managed to form a coherent sentence amidst her dissolving thoughts. “…Stay.” She said it quietly and clearly, since this time, it wasn't hidden behind signals or confusing actions.
Sophia didn’t hesitate.
“…Okay,” she said. She stepped closer slowly, as if she was worried (Y/N) would disappear into thin air if she did it any other way. She got close enough that the space between them felt intentional.
(Y/N) didn’t look away this time. Her fingers moved first.
Reaching out, hesitating for only a second before wrapping lightly around Sophia’s wrist. Her grip tightened just slightly.
Not to hold her in place... but to keep her there.
Sophia’s breath softened. “…You’re doing that thing again,” she murmured.
(Y/N)’s brows furrowed faintly, expecting an answer.
Sophia smiled, just a little. “Looking at me like that.”
“…Shut up,” (Y/N) muttered, but she didn’t look away. Not this time.
Sophia’s hand shifted, gently turning in her grasp, their fingers brushing, then fitting.
(Y/N)’s breath caught. The feeling came back, making everything feel overwhelming. But this time? She didn’t fight it. Her grip steadied. Her shoulders relaxed. And slowly… she leaned in.
Not because she didn’t understand it. But because she didn’t need to.
Sophia met her halfway. Their lips touched, soft and certain. There was no hesitation this time. There wasn't an interruption. No one pulled away. And when they parted, just slightly, (Y/N) didn’t move back, her forehead rested lightly against Sophia’s.
Her breath was uneven, but somehow calmer. “…This is still annoying,” she muttered.
Sophia laughed softly. “Yeah?”
“…Yeah.” There was a pause. Then, quieter: “…Don’t go anywhere.”
Sophia’s hand tightened gently around hers. “I won’t.”
݁ᛪ༙ synopsis it starts with dishes and a built chair—but Sophia’s quiet competence and care quickly become impossible to ignore. somewhere in the small, everyday moments, attraction deepens into something that leaves you completely undone
݁ᛪ༙ disclaimer friend! sophia laforteza x simp! fem! reader, wlw, fluff, quite comic, reader is down bad for sophia, originally inspired by tears by sabrina carpenter
݁ᛪ༙ a/n i’m genuinely so down bad for this unbelievable woman, leon’s so lucky istg…
the first time it happens, it’s honestly ridiculous
Sophia is standing in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back, quietly doing the dishes
not half-doing them. not leaving “to soak” dishes that will absolutely not be touched again. no—she’s actually doing them. properly. efficiently. even drying them and putting them away
you lean against the doorway, watching
“you don’t have to do that,” you say, because that’s what you’re supposed to say
Sophia glances over her shoulder, soft smile, completely unbothered. “i know. i want to”
and that’s the problem
because something in your brain just—short circuits
you cross your arms, trying to act normal, but your gaze keeps drifting. the way her hands move, steady and sure. the quiet focus. the fact that she noticed the mess before you even said anything
“you okay?” she asks
you laugh, a little too quickly. “yeah. why?”
“you’re staring”
“i am not—” you pause, then sigh. “okay, maybe a little”
she turns off the tap, drying her hands slowly. “should i be concerned?”
“deeply,” you mutter
---
it gets worse… way worse
a few days later, a flat-pack chair arrives—your impulsive purchase, abandoned in the corner of the living room because the instructions look like a puzzle designed by a sadist
you mention it casually. “i should probably build that at some point”
Sophia doesn’t even hesitate. “i can do it”
you blink. “you can?”
“yeah.” she’s already opening the box. “i like this kind of thing”
of course she does
you sit on the couch, watching her spread out the pieces, organizing screws into neat little piles like some kind of domestic goddess
“pass me the allen key?” she asks
you hand it over, your fingers brushing hers… electric
you swallow
“this is… impressive,” you admit
Sophia huffs a soft laugh. “it’s just a chair”
“no, it’s not just a chair,” you say, leaning forward. “it’s… initiative”
she pauses, glancing up at you with a raised brow. “initiative?”
“yes,” you say, very seriously. “highly attractive quality”
she smirks. “good to know”
and then she goes back to building the chair, completely unaware that you are internally unraveling
---
it peaks the night you’re both exhausted
you’ve had a long day, everything piling up—messages unanswered, responsibilities half-finished, your brain buzzing with too much
you’re sitting on the bed, staring at your phone, overwhelmed
Sophia notices immediately
“hey,” she says softly, sitting beside you. “what’s going on?”
you shrug. “just… everything. i feel like i’m behind on life”
she takes the phone gently from your hands and sets it aside
“okay,” she says. “talk to me”
and you do
you ramble. you complain. you admit things you don’t usually say out loud—how you feel like you have to manage everything, how tiring it is to always be the one holding things together
Sophia listens. really listens. no interruptions, no dismissing, no fixing unless you ask
when you’re done, she nods thoughtfully
“that makes sense,” she says. “you don’t have to do everything alone, you know”
you let out a shaky laugh. “yeah, i do”
“no,” she says gently. “you don’t”
and then—like it’s the most natural thing in the world—she starts listing things
“i can handle groceries this week. i’ll take care of the bills tonight. and tomorrow, we’ll go through your to-do list together, yeah?”
you stare at her
“you’d do that?” you ask
“of course,” she says. “we’re a team”
something in your chest tightens
because it’s not just the words. it’s the certainty. the follow-through. the way she’s already reaching for her laptop, already opening tabs, already doing something
competence. care. communication
it hits you all at once
“oh my god,” you whisper
Sophia looks up. “what?”
you shake your head, half-laughing, half-dying. “nothing. it’s just—”
you stop, searching for words that won’t make you sound completely unhinged
she tilts her head. “just what?”
you meet her eyes, heat creeping up your neck
“it’s just really, really attractive when you do that”
her expression softens, something warm and amused flickering there. “yeah?”
“yeah,” you say, quieter now. “like… unfairly attractive”
she closes the laptop slowly
“well,” she murmurs, leaning closer, “good thing i plan on doing it a lot more”
your breath catches
because suddenly, it’s not about dishes or chairs or to-do lists
it’s the way she shows up. the way she chooses you, over and over, in small, tangible ways
izzy806
areudirty
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