#i love everyone laughing i had to include it

[faebled-stories]

No Strings, No Heart

Kinkvember Day 23: Friends with Benefits

ITZY Lia (Choi Jisu) x Male reader

You and Lia had been friends since high school, back when neither of you had any idea what life would have in store. She had been the new girl, fresh from Canada, with a soft-spoken voice and an air of quiet confidence that intrigued everyone, including you. You’d been assigned seats next to each other in English class, and what started as casual small talk soon grew into a friendship you hadn’t expected.

Lia, or Jisu as she’d been known then, had dreams even back then that set her apart. While most of your classmates were focused on cramming for college entrance exams or deciding what clubs to join, Lia was already chasing something bigger: a career in music. She was always humming under her breath, jotting lyrics in the margins of her notebook, and rushing off to auditions after school.

When she finally became a trainee, it wasn’t a surprise, but it did mark the start of a more distant phase in your friendship. She spent most of her time at the company, training long hours, while you finished school and moved on to university.

Despite the distance, you kept in touch—texts here and there, occasional coffee meetups when she had a rare free day. When she debuted with ITZY, you were one of the first to congratulate her, your heart swelling with pride as you watched her music videos and performances from your tiny apartment.

Even as her life grew more hectic, Lia never let go of your connection. Whenever her schedule allowed, she’d call you up, sometimes late at night, her voice exhausted but warm as she asked about your day, complaining about the pressures of idol life in the same breath. She was still Jisu to you, your old high school friend, even as the world knew her as Lia.

-----

It was one of those late-night meetups—a rainy evening in her cozy Seoul apartment—that changed the dynamic between you. Her space smelled of vanilla candles and faintly of jasmine tea, her usual go-to after a long day. You sat awkwardly on her beige couch, holding a mug that was almost too hot, watching her as she lounged on the floor, cross-legged in an oversized sweater and shorts.

“You’re always so tense,” Lia said suddenly, her voice cutting through the soft patter of rain against the windows. Her damp hair fell in natural waves around her face, framing her features in a way that was almost disarming. This was not the poised, camera-ready idol the world saw. This was the Lia you knew—barefoot, casual, real.

You chuckled nervously, unsure where she was going with this. “Work’s been crazy, I guess.”

“That’s always your excuse,” she teased, setting down her mug with a soft clink. “But honestly, you’ve been like this since high school. Always wound up. Always overthinking.”

“Well, sorry for being consistent,” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

She smiled too, but there was something different in her expression—something calculated yet sincere. “You know, we could help each other out.”

Your brow furrowed. “Help each other out… how?”

Lia tilted her head, studying you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “I don’t want anything complicated,” she began, her tone careful but confident. “No drama, no commitments. Just… something easy. For both of us.”

The words felt surreal, hanging in the air between you. “Wait, are you saying…?”

“I’m saying,” she interrupted, her voice softer now, “that we’re both stressed. Both stuck in our own routines. And you’re… safe.”

“Safe?” you echoed, unsure whether to feel flattered or insulted.

Lia rolled her eyes, laughing. “You know what I mean. I trust you. You’re not going to do anything stupid like fall in love with me. And let’s be honest—you’ve never been great with relationships.”

“Wow, thanks,” you muttered, though you couldn’t deny the accuracy of her words. Dating had never come easily to you, and Lia knew it better than anyone.

“I’m just saying it makes sense,” she said, her smile softening into something almost reassuring. “We’ve known each other forever. We trust each other. And I need… an escape, you know? A way to blow off steam without it becoming a mess.”

You hesitated, turning the idea over in your head. “I don’t know, Lia. Stuff like this—doesn’t it get messy?”

“Not if we’re honest with each other,” she said simply. “We set boundaries. We stick to them. And if it doesn’t work, we stop. No harm, no foul.”

Her words were logical, almost too logical, and the idea of being close to someone you trusted—someone who understood you without the usual complications—was more tempting than you wanted to admit.

“I… guess,” you said finally, your voice tinged with hesitation. “If you’re sure about this.”

Lia’s smile widened, a spark of relief and something else—satisfaction?—in her eyes. “I’m sure.”

And just like that, the boundaries of your friendship shifted. You told yourself it was perfect—a way to connect without risking anything deeper.

The first few times were… great. Better than great. There was an ease to it that neither of you had anticipated, a natural rhythm that made it feel less like a new arrangement and more like something that had always been there, waiting to be discovered. The way your bodies fit together was effortless, as though they’d been designed for this connection, every touch and movement aligning perfectly. It wasn’t just about the physical pleasure—though that was undeniable—it was the comfort of being close to someone who understood you in a way no one else did.

Lia had a way of melting into your arms, her laughter and sighs carrying a vulnerability that made the moments feel intimate even in their simplicity. You liked similar things, and exploring that together felt easy, seamless. The way her breath hitched against your skin, the way she responded to every touch with a soft moan or a shiver, made it feel less like an arrangement and more like a quiet escape for both of you.

When she reached for you in the stillness of her room, there was no hesitation, no awkwardness—just a mutual understanding that you could let go with each other.

It was everything she had promised: no drama, no complications. It was a release, a way to step outside the stress of your individual lives and find solace in each other. You told yourself that this was enough, that it didn’t need to mean anything more. And for a while, it didn’t.

But then, one night, everything shifted.

The atmosphere in Lia’s room felt thick with the unspoken, a cocoon of warmth and intimacy as the world outside faded away. The soft scent of jasmine and the lingering notes of her perfume were a quiet contrast to the faint tension in her voice as she spoke.

“It’s been… such a day,” she said with a sigh, leaning back against the headboard, her oversized sweater slipping from one shoulder. Her fingers idly played with the hem, a distraction as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “I feel like everyone wanted a piece of me today. The schedules, the cameras, the smiles—they don’t stop.”

You nodded, sitting close enough to her that the faintest brush of her knee against yours sent sparks up your spine. “You don’t have to explain. I can see it,” you said softly, meeting her eyes. “You’re always carrying so much.”

Her lips twitched into a small, tired smile. “Sometimes, I wish I could just turn it all off. Just… for a little while.”

“You can, here,” you offered, your voice steady despite the way your heart was racing. “You don’t have to be anything but you.”

Her eyes softened, and she reached out to touch your arm, her fingers grazing your skin. “That’s why I asked you to come tonight,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, almost fragile. “I need this. I need you.”

The weight of her words hit you with a force you weren’t entirely prepared for, but you nodded, leaning in slightly. “I’m here,” you said simply, your hand finding hers and squeezing gently.

The next moments unfolded slowly, deliberately, as if neither of you wanted to rush. Her sweater slipped further, pooling around her elbows as she lifted it over her head and let it fall to the floor. Her body, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, was breathtaking. She looked up at you, her eyes steady but vulnerable, as if daring you to say something, to break the spell.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured, the words escaping before you could stop them.

A soft laugh escaped her, and she reached up to brush your cheek. “You’re such a sap,” she teased, though her voice was warm, her expression soft. “But I like it.”

You leaned in to kiss her, your lips meeting in a slow, deliberate connection. It started tenderly, a gentle brush of warmth, but quickly deepened, your hands finding her waist, her hips, exploring the curve of her body. She gasped softly against your lips, her hands sliding under your shirt to tug it off, the cool air of the room making your skin prickle as she traced patterns along your chest.

Guiding her back against the bed, you hovered over her, her hair spilling across the pillow in soft waves like a dark halo. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated her features, her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips evidence of the moment’s growing intensity. Her hands found your shoulders, her touch steady but eager as her breath quickened. The feel of her bare skin against yours, the warmth of her body beneath you, sent a rush of heat through you.

Before moving further, you paused, reaching for the small foil packet on the bedside table. Lia watched you, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, her gaze steady yet filled with trust. You slipped the condom on quickly, her hand brushing lightly against your arm in a silent gesture of reassurance.

As you align yourself with her, you paused again, your gaze locking onto hers. “Are you ready?” you asked softly, the weight of your question hanging in the quiet space between you.

Her lips curled into a faint smile, and her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. “Absolutely, I need this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with unmistakable longing. “I need you.”

The moment of joining was slow, deliberate, her body tensing slightly as you pressed into her. A quiet gasp escaped her lips, her fingers tightening on your shoulders, her nails faintly digging in as she adjusted to the closeness. You paused, giving her time, your heart pounding in sync with hers. Her breaths quickened, each rise and fall of her chest matching the rhythm you were beginning to create. The heat of her skin against yours was all-consuming, grounding and electrifying all at once.

You began to move, slow and measured, each motion deliberate. Her soft moans and quiet gasps filled the air, small sounds that spurred you on, each one sending shivers down your spine. Her hands roamed your back, nails occasionally dragging across your skin, her hips lifting instinctively to meet yours. The connection between you was unspoken but undeniable, a rhythm building that felt less like something physical and more like a quiet surrender.

Her lips parted as she whispered your name, her voice soft and trembling, a plea that made your chest ache. The way she looked up at you took your breath away. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes fluttering open and shut, and the vulnerability in her gaze made you falter for a moment. You’d always thought Lia was beautiful, but here, now, she was something more—raw, open, and completely unguarded. Every quiet sound she made, every brush of her hands against you, seemed to weave a thread between you that went far beyond the act itself.

Your pace deepened, becoming more deliberate as you leaned down to capture her lips. Her response was immediate, her mouth opening to you as her hands slid into your hair, pulling you closer. The heat between you grew, a symphony of gasps, moans, and murmured words filling the space. Her legs tightened around your waist, her body pressing into yours as if to pull you even closer.

You pulled back slightly, your lips trailing down her jawline to her neck, brushing over the delicate curve of her throat. Her skin was warm and flushed beneath your touch, and you felt her shiver as your mouth moved lower, pressing kisses behind her ear. The spot you’d discovered during your time together—the one that always drove her wild. Her reaction was immediate, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her body arched into you.

Her hands clung to your shoulders as your lips continued their path, down her collarbone and toward the swell of her chest. You paused for a moment, letting your tongue flick gently over the sensitive skin there, before capturing one of her nipples between your lips. Lia let out a low, trembling moan, her nails digging into your back as you lavished attention on her. You alternated between gentle kisses and firmer, more deliberate nips, her body responding to each one with a sharp intake of breath or a soft cry.

Your free hand roamed over her body, sliding along the curve of her waist and the dip of her hips. You teased her other breast with your fingertips, rolling and brushing against her skin in time with the rhythm of your lips. Her body writhed beneath you, her hips lifting instinctively as if to draw you closer, the heat between you growing with every touch.

From her chest, your lips traveled downward, leaving a trail of warmth across her stomach. Lia’s breathing grew heavier, her hands tangling in your hair as you moved lower, savoring the way her body reacted to every press of your lips, every flick of your tongue. Her quiet whimpers and soft moans filled the room, a soundtrack to the intimacy building between you.

You moved back up, your mouth returning to the curve of her neck, brushing kisses along her jawline before finding her lips again. The kiss was deep and consuming, her hands pulling you closer as though she couldn’t get enough of you. Her legs tightened around your waist once more, her body pressing into yours as the rhythm between you grew more urgent, more deliberate.

Her reactions—each shiver, each soft cry, each whispered plea—fueled you, blurring the line between physical connection and something deeper. You knew every spot that made her tremble, every touch that left her gasping, and you used them all, the intimacy between you growing with each passing moment. It wasn’t just her body you craved—it was her trust, her surrender, the way she opened herself to you completely, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Her voice broke through your focus, her breathless words trembling as she gasped, “You feel so good… Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” you murmured, your voice hoarse and strained, barely able to contain the emotions coursing through you. Her flushed cheeks, the vulnerability in her gaze, the way her body clung to yours—it all struck you in a way you hadn’t prepared for.

The tension between you built steadily, every motion pulling you both closer to a precipice. Her moans grew louder, breaking into desperate cries as her body moved in sync with yours. Her hips met you with an urgency that matched your own, and her hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, her nails dragging against your skin.

“I’m so close,” she whimpered, her voice trembling and raw in a way that sent shivers through you. Her head tilted back, her body arching beautifully beneath you as she clung to you like you were her lifeline. “I—oh my god, I’m cumming… I love it, don’t stop, please.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, the raw need in her voice breaking through every wall you’d built around your feelings. Her climax overtook her in a wave, her body trembling violently as she cried out, her voice unguarded and desperate. The sight of her face, twisted in pure ecstasy, sent a jolt through you. Her name fell from her lips like a prayer, her body shuddering as she reached the peak, clutching at you with a force that left no doubt of the depth of her release.

And then, it hit you—seeing her like this, so open, so completely undone, you realized something you couldn’t ignore. You wanted to be the only one to give her this feeling. The thought struck like lightning, leaving you trembling even as your own release loomed. It wasn’t just about the act—it was about her, about how much you wanted to hold onto this moment, this connection, this vulnerability that was uniquely hers.

Your climax followed, surging through you in powerful, unrelenting waves as you buried your face in her neck. A guttural groan escaped you, your body trembling with the intensity of it. The warmth of your release pooled into the condom, each pulse carrying with it the weight of everything you’d been holding back. The sensations were overwhelming, magnified by the realization that this wasn’t casual for you anymore. Maybe it never had been.

Even as the waves subsided, you stayed close, holding her tightly against you. Her fingers traced lazy, soothing patterns along your back, her touch grounding you as your heart pounded against hers. Her breaths were soft, mingling with your own in the quiet aftermath. The intimacy of the moment was almost too much, yet you didn’t want it to end.

Finally, you pulled back slightly, your heart still racing as you pressed a kiss to her damp forehead. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips curved into a faint, tired smile, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you filled with unspoken emotions that neither of you seemed ready to name.

You leaned back carefully, slipping out of her with a quiet groan as her body shuddered at the loss of closeness. Reaching down, you removed the condom, tying it off as you moved to the side of the bed. Lia’s gaze followed you, her cheeks still rosy from the exertion, and when her eyes landed on what you held, her lips quirked into a teasing smile.

“Wow,” she said, her voice still breathy but laced with playful amusement. “You’ve been… pent up, huh?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, the tension between you easing slightly at her tone. “Yeah, maybe a little,” you admitted, your voice still low and rough from the intensity of the moment.

She laughed, a soft, light sound that made your chest tighten again, her fingers brushing over your arm as if to reassure you. “I’ll take it as a compliment,” she said, her smile widening slightly as she leaned back against the pillow, her gaze softening.

In that moment, as you looked at her—flushed, vulnerable, yet teasing—you couldn’t ignore the shift that had happened. Whatever boundaries had existed between you before were gone, and the weight of that realization lingered, pressing gently against your heart.

You stood, disposing of the condom in the bathroom, your mind still reeling from everything that had just unfolded. The intensity of the moment lingered, but it wasn’t just the physical closeness that consumed you—it was the emotions swelling in your chest, threatening to spill over. You tried to push the thoughts aside as you cleaned up, focusing on the simple motions as a way to steady yourself.

When you returned to the bed, Lia was already nestled under the blankets, her cheeks still faintly flushed, her hair spilling over the pillow in soft waves. She looked up at you, her eyes warm and inviting, and without a word, she lifted the blanket in a silent invitation. It was a gesture you’d grown accustomed to—a familiar rhythm that had followed these nights together. But this time, something about it felt heavier, weighted with an unspoken shift between you.

You climbed into bed beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. She moved closer almost instinctively, her body curling into yours, her head resting against your chest as her arm draped across your stomach. The warmth of her, the way she fit so perfectly against you, was both comforting and terrifying.

Her breathing began to slow, her body relaxing as if this was the most natural thing in the world. And it was—for her. For you, though, the usual ease wasn’t there. You lay stiffly, staring up at the ceiling as a moment of dread washed over you.

You’ve broken the rules.

It hit you with the weight of a confession you’d been avoiding for weeks, maybe months. You’d convinced yourself this was fine, that you could keep things casual, that it was just a way to connect without getting too close. But tonight had shattered that illusion. You weren’t just drawn to Lia—you’d fallen for her.

Your chest tightened as the realization settled in. The way she laughed, the way she trusted you enough to let her guard down, the way she made you feel seen in a way no one else ever had—it wasn’t just something you could brush aside anymore. It was real, and it was terrifying.

You glanced down at her, your heart aching as you took in the soft curve of her lips, the peaceful expression on her face. She looked so at ease, so content, and you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb that. But the weight of your feelings pressed heavily against your chest, threatening to suffocate you.

Lia shifted slightly, her arm tightening around you as if sensing your tension. “You’re quiet,” she murmured, her voice drowsy but laced with curiosity. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper as you forced yourself to relax beneath her touch. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Because as much as you wanted to stay in this moment—her warmth, her closeness—you knew that everything had changed. You’d crossed a line you couldn’t uncross, and now you weren’t sure what to do.

-----

The weeks that followed were an emotional minefield. Every stolen glance, every shared laugh, every moment Lia curled up beside you after an intense night—all of it dug deeper into the growing pit in your chest. It wasn’t just about intimacy anymore; it was everything. The way she smiled at you, her guard let down for just a moment. The way she playfully mocked your quirks, grounding you with the ease of someone who knew you better than anyone. You craved her in ways that went beyond physical. You wanted all of her—her bad days, her hopes, her fears, and everything in between.

But you couldn’t say it.

The rules had always been clear: no emotions, no strings, no complications. Lia had built walls around herself, walls you understood were necessary given her chaotic life. Your arrangement was her sanctuary, an escape from the pressures of her career, her fame, and the unrelenting expectations placed on her shoulders. You told yourself that being her safe space was enough. It had to be.

That night had started like many others, but it carried a weight you couldn’t ignore. As the moment reached its peak, Lia shifted downward, her lips trailing across your skin with a deliberate slowness that sent shivers coursing through you. When her mouth finally enveloped you, a deep groan escaped your lips, your hand instinctively tangling in her hair.

Her movements were teasing but purposeful, each flick of her tongue measured to drive you closer to the edge. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, glinting with mischief yet laced with something softer, something deeper. “You’ve been so stiff lately,” she murmured, her breath warm against you before continuing, her voice low and sultry as her tongue worked with maddening precision.

The intimacy overwhelmed you, her familiarity with your body leaving you utterly undone. She knew exactly how to unravel you, to find the places that made you tremble, the rhythm that pushed you to your breaking point. When your release finally overtook you, it was overwhelming, waves of pleasure crashing through you with an intensity that left you trembling. Your fingers tightened briefly in her hair as a hoarse gasp escaped you, the heat of the moment leaving you breathless.

Lia pulled back gently, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She moved back up to lie beside you, her body fitting against yours with an ease that should have felt comforting. But this time, it didn’t. This time, it felt different.

She settled against you, her head resting on your chest, her breathing steady and calm. Her hair tickled your skin, her warmth both soothing and torturous as a quiet dread began to build in your chest. It wasn’t just physical anymore—this was heavier, filled with emotions you couldn’t keep bottled up.

Before you could stop yourself, the words rose in your throat. “Jisu,” you began softly, her name catching in your throat.

She hummed in response, her eyes still closed, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Hmm?”

“Do you ever think…” You hesitated, the words feeling too heavy, too dangerous. But they pushed forward anyway, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you ever think this could be something more?”

Her eyes opened slowly, the smile fading as her expression shifted into something unreadable. She propped herself up on one elbow, her hair falling in soft waves around her face, the sheets slipping slightly off her shoulder. Her gaze met yours, searching and cautious, and the seconds stretched into an eternity.

“Why are you asking?” she asked softly, her tone carrying a mix of curiosity and caution.

Your heart raced, panic rising in your chest as you scrambled for a response. “I was just thinking,” you lied, the words tumbling out too quickly. “It’s nothing. I don’t know, just… a thought.”

Her expression didn’t change, her gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before she sat up fully. Wrapping the blanket around herself like a shield, her voice was calm but resolute as she said, “Hmm, no, I don’t think so. The reason this works is because it’s casual. If we start complicating things, it’ll ruin everything.”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, sharp and cutting in their finality. You nodded slowly, forcing a smile you didn’t feel. “Oh… yeah… You’re right. Forget I said anything.”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She lay back down, resting her head on your chest again as if nothing had happened. Her breathing evened out, her warmth against you a cruel comfort. But for you, everything had changed.

The words you’d been holding back, the feelings you’d buried, wouldn’t stay quiet anymore. They clawed at you, louder with every passing day, until the very thought of continuing like this felt unbearable. You had broken the rules, and the weight of that truth suffocated you in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

-----

Over time you tried convinced yourself to accept her boundaries, telling yourself that being with Lia on her terms was better than not having her at all. But that fragile resolve cracked wide open the day you saw the article.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the kind of day meant for doing nothing. Sunlight spilled through your apartment windows, painting the floor in golden streaks as you scrolled absently through your phone. Outside, the faint hum of the city mixed with the rhythmic ticking of the clock, a peaceful backdrop to your aimless thoughts.

Then your phone buzzed, pulling you from the haze of routine. Without thinking, you tapped the notification.

The headline hit like a physical blow: "ITZY’s Lia Spotted on a Romantic Date with beloved Idol."

Your stomach tightened instantly, a sharp ache blooming in your chest as you scrolled through the accompanying photos. Each swipe felt like tearing open a wound. There she was, walking arm-in-arm with another idol. The soft rustling of the park’s trees in the background, the dappled sunlight falling on their faces—it all looked so serene, so effortless. Their casual clothes hinted at an attempt to keep things discreet, but the atmosphere around them screamed intimacy.

And then one photo stopped you cold.

Her head tilted slightly, her hair catching the sunlight like a halo. Her eyes—soft and filled with a warmth that felt painfully familiar—were fixed on him. She was smiling, bright and genuine, the corners of her lips curving in a way that was devastatingly effortless. That smile was reserved for someone special. Someone who wasn’t you.

Your chest ached, a dull yet unrelenting pain spreading through you as you stared at the screen. The world around you seemed to fade, the sunlight that had once felt comforting now harsh and uninviting. The faint hum of the city became muffled, replaced by the deafening rush of your own thoughts.

Has she ever looked at you like that? Has she ever smiled at you in that way, with that kind of quiet adoration? A part of you knew the answer, even if you didn’t want to admit it. The answer cut deeper than anything she’d ever said or done.

The seconds stretched into minutes as you stared at the image, the knot in your stomach tightening with each passing moment. You could almost hear her laugh in your head, see the way she looked at you during your private moments together. But it wasn’t the same. It had never been the same.

The sharp buzz of another notification snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. Lia’s name flashed across the screen, her message simple: “Are you free?”

The words sat at the top of your screen, directly above the article. The juxtaposition was cruel, a perfect encapsulation of everything that had been tearing you apart. Your thumb hovered over the notification, your mind swirling with a chaotic mix of emotions—anger, hurt, jealousy, longing. Every rational part of you screamed not to reply. To protect yourself. To draw a line before it was too late.

But as always, your heart betrayed you.

The faint sound of your breathing filled the room, shallow and uneven as you tapped her message. You opened the chat, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed the only thing you knew how to say to her.

"Yeah, I’ll be there."

The moment you hit send, the weight in your chest seemed to shift, but it didn’t lift. Instead, it settled deeper, anchoring itself to the realization you were too afraid to face: no matter how much it hurt, you couldn’t walk away. Not from her. Not yet.

-----

Lia greeted you at her apartment door with the same casual ease as always, dressed in a loose sweatshirt that hung just off one shoulder and shorts that left little to the imagination. Her hair was tied back loosely, and the faint scent of her lavender body lotion hung in the air as she stepped aside to let you in. She smiled, warm and familiar, but to you, it felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

“Hey,” she said softly, leaning casually against the doorframe. Her tone carried a cheerfulness that felt almost jarring compared to the turmoil swirling inside you. “Rough day?”

You swallowed hard, your thoughts tangled with the image of the article’s photos. The memory of her walking arm-in-arm with someone else clung to you like a shadow, an ache that wouldn’t loosen its grip. “Yeah,” you said finally, your voice flat. “Something like that.”

Her brows knitted slightly, a flicker of concern crossing her face before she masked it with another smile, softer this time. “Come in,” she said gently, stepping aside. “Let me fix you some tea or something.”

You followed her inside, the familiar warmth of her cozy apartment stirring something deep and painful within you. The dim lighting, the scent of jasmine mingling with lavender, the soft hum of a playlist you knew by heart—it should have felt comforting, but tonight it only made the ache worse. To her, everything seemed normal, unchanged. But to you, every gesture, every laugh, felt magnified, a sharp contrast to the images still burned into your mind.

She led you to the couch, her steps light and unbothered, her usual ease a stark reminder of how differently you were experiencing this moment. She sat close to you, her knee brushing against yours as she turned to face you fully. “You seem tense,” she said softly, her voice lowering into something soothing. Her hand rested lightly on yours, her touch simple yet disarming, as if she could sense the weight pressing down on you. “Let me help.”

You hesitated, the memory of her smile in those photos flashing through your mind. The warmth she had shown to someone else, the intimacy of it, felt like a stark contrast to the Lia sitting here with you now. Part of you wanted to pull back, to say something, to ask her what that meant, but the words wouldn’t come. Her touch, her presence—it was too much to resist, and before you could think better of it, her lips were on yours.

The kiss was familiar, practiced, but this time, it felt different. Your movements were slower, less certain. A part of you wanted to push her away, to demand answers, but the other part—the part of you that craved her touch, her presence—won. You kissed her back, the frustration and longing coiling tightly in your chest, fueling your every move.

Her hands slid beneath your shirt, tugging at it with the ease of someone who knew you too well. Your resolve crumbled under her touch, the confrontation slipping further from your mind. It could wait, you told yourself. For now, you let the emotions swirling within you—frustration, jealousy, and something darker—take over.

By the time you reached the bedroom, something inside you had shifted. The weight of your suppressed emotions guided your actions, a storm of unspoken feelings driving every touch, every motion. You turned her toward the bed, your hand firm on her shoulder as you eased her down to her knees.

Without a word, you unbuttoned your pants, the sound of the zipper cutting through the quiet room like a spark igniting the air. Lia’s eyes followed the motion, her gaze flicking downward before snapping back up to meet yours. Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before melting into something softer, almost eager. When you pressed yourself to her lips, her hesitation was brief. Her hands found their place on your thighs, steadying herself as she took you in.

The shift in her was immediate. This wasn’t like before—this wasn’t the usual playful or restrained dynamic between you. You gripped her hair firmly, the silky strands slipping through your fingers as you guided her movements. Lia’s soft, muffled moan against you sent a shiver down your spine, the vibration electrifying. The control you felt, the way she surrendered so willingly, was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but give in to the moment fully.

Your hips began to move, your thrusts deliberate but rough, each one pushing deeper as you set the rhythm. Lia’s hands tightened their grip on your thighs, her fingers curling slightly as her body swayed to match your motions. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and her breathing grew heavier between moments when you gave her just enough time to adjust. She looked up at you, her wide, watery eyes filled with surprise and a growing hunger. This wasn’t what she’d expected, but the way her body responded told you everything—this was what she wanted, what she craved.

Her moans grew louder, though muffled, as her lips and tongue worked in perfect sync with your movements. Her usual confidence had melted away, leaving behind a raw vulnerability that only fueled you further. This side of you—assertive, unrelenting—was something she hadn’t expected, and the way she gave herself over to it was driving you wild.

You tightened your grip on her hair, guiding her more firmly as her hands clutched at your thighs for balance. Her breathing was heavy, her moans blending with the wet, rhythmic sounds that filled the room. Tears began to streak her cheeks as her throat constricted around you, her body tensing slightly as she fought to keep up. Still, her eyes never left yours, wide and watery but filled with trust and unmistakable arousal.

Her muffled cries grew needier as your rhythm intensified, her nails digging into your thighs as her body trembled. The tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core, every sound she made pushing you closer to the edge. When her moan vibrated against you again, it sent you spiraling, your hips moving faster, rougher, with a desperation you couldn’t suppress.

You felt yourself reaching the breaking point, your control slipping entirely. Lia’s breathing hitched, her hands shifting to grip you tighter as you thrust one last time. Your release hit like a flood, overwhelming and unstoppable. A guttural groan tore from your throat as you came, the heat surging through you in waves. Lia’s body instinctively tensed beneath you. Her throat worked desperately, swallowing each hot pulse as it filled her mouth. Her gag reflex kicked in more than once, her soft, choked sounds blending with the wet, rhythmic movements that echoed in the room. Despite her efforts, some of it spilled from the corners of her lips, trickling down her chin in thin, glistening streams. Her hands gripped your thighs tighter, her nails pressing into your skin as she did her best to keep up, her flushed cheeks stained with tears and exertion.

Her breathing was uneven, her body trembling with the effort to take everything you gave her. When you finally pulled back, a string of fluid connected you briefly before breaking, her tongue darting out to clean her lips as she gasped for air. Lia’s eyes lifted to meet yours, glassy and dazed, her expression a mix of exhaustion, surprise, and something playful.

She wiped at her chin with the back of her hand, her lips curving into a faint, teasing smile. “Fuck that was hot,” she murmured hoarsely, her voice laced with mischief despite her breathlessness. “What's gotten into you?”

You didn’t respond, the fire in your chest still burning too hot for words. Instead, you leaned down slightly and tapped your member against her cheek a couple of times, the wet sound punctuating the charged silence. Lia blinked up at you, her flushed face lighting up with surprise, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

Without a word, you reached down, your hands finding hers as you pulled her to her feet in one smooth motion. She let out a soft, surprised laugh, stumbling slightly against your chest. Her body was still trembling, her knees unsteady from the intensity of what had just happened. She clung to you for balance, her breath brushing against your neck as she steadied herself. 

Before she could add anything else, your hands moved to her sweatshirt, gripping the fabric at the hem. Her laughter faded into a small, knowing smile as she raised her arms without hesitation, letting you strip it off her in one smooth motion. The air between you felt charged, electric, as the garment fell to the floor.

Her shorts followed quickly, her own fingers fumbling with the waistband as though eager to match your urgency. The two of you moved in tandem, discarding every barrier until she stood before you, bare and breathtaking in the dim light. The soft glow illuminated every curve, every flushed detail of her skin, making her look impossibly beautiful.

You climbed onto the bed, hovering over Lia as she lay beneath you, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her body still trembling from the intensity of earlier. Without a word, you captured her lips in a bruising kiss, pouring all the frustration, anger, and sadness you’d been bottling up into the connection. Her soft moan was muffled against your mouth as she melted into you, her hands reaching up to grip your shoulders.

You didn’t stop there. Your lips trailed away from hers, moving down the curve of her jaw to her neck, where you nipped at her skin with sharp, deliberate bites. Lia gasped and squirmed beneath you, her body reacting instinctively to each sting of your teeth, her fingers clutching at you for balance. The sound of her soft whimpers drove you on, each one fueling the storm raging inside you.

Your hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as you moved lower, leaving a trail of heated kisses down to her collarbone. You didn’t hesitate to bite there too, hard enough to make her arch her back, her body pressing closer to you as though craving the sting. Her breaths grew quicker, her chest heaving as she writhed beneath your relentless attention.

Her squirming only pushed you further, your need to control, to channel the storm within you, manifesting in the way you held her down. One hand moved to her neck, wrapping around her throat in a firm, deliberate grip. Lia’s reaction was immediate—her body froze for a second, her breath catching, before her eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours. There was no fear in her gaze, only surprise and raw, unfiltered desire.

You didn’t pause, letting your other hand slide down her body, brushing over her stomach before reaching her folds. The heat and slickness there were undeniable, and it made you tighten your grip on her neck as your fingers teased her entrance. Lia gasped, her body jerking at the touch, her hands clutching at the sheets for balance as her hips instinctively pressed toward you.

You didn’t slow down, slipping two fingers inside her in one swift, deliberate motion. Her reaction was instant—a choked moan escaping her lips as her body arched against your hand, her thighs trembling uncontrollably. You tightened your grip on her neck, holding her firmly in place as you set a rough, relentless rhythm, each thrust of your fingers matching the intensity of your emotions.

Her breaths came in short, desperate gasps, her body completely at your mercy. You didn’t let up, your fingers curling inside her, hitting all the right spots as her moans grew louder. The way she reacted—the way her body writhed and her voice broke with every movement—pushed you further into the haze of emotion driving your every move.

Lia’s hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white as she clawed at the fabric, her head tilting back as her lips parted in a silent plea. Her hips began to shift, trying instinctively to pull away from the overwhelming sensations, but you didn’t give her the chance. Each time her body tried to escape, you followed her movement with ruthless precision, maintaining the relentless pace that left her gasping and trembling beneath you.

“Please,” she choked out, her voice cracking as her hips jerked sharply against your hand, torn between chasing the pleasure and trying to find relief from the intensity. Her thighs quivered as the wet, obscene sounds from her folds filled the room, mixing with her soft, desperate whimpers.

Your fingers thrust with relentless precision, plunging deeply while curling just enough to make Lia cry out with every motion. Her gasps turned into desperate, broken cries, the sound spilling from her lips in sharp, uneven bursts. The way her body tightened and arched against your hand drove you further, your thumb brushing over her clit—first in slow, deliberate circles, then pressing firmly and flicking sharply as her hips jolted against you.

The hand around her neck tightened slightly, your fingers pressing just enough to make her breath catch. The mix of pressure and roughness sent her spiraling, her voice breaking into a low, guttural moan as her eyes fluttered open briefly, wide and glassy, before rolling shut again. Her legs trembled uncontrollably, her entire body trembling as your thumb quickened its pace, alternating between firm, relentless circles and sharp, deliberate flicks that made her hips buck wildly.

Her thighs tried to clamp shut around your hand, her body instinctively attempting to shield itself from the overwhelming sensations, but you didn’t stop. Your pace only grew faster, harder, as though chasing something deeper. Her moans turned into broken cries, her hips jerking helplessly against your hand as you pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

The slick heat from her folds coated your fingers as her walls tightened around you, her body reacting to every motion. Her breath hitched, her cries becoming louder, more desperate. Her hips jerked erratically, trying to escape your relentless pace, but you didn’t let up. The grip on her neck tightened again, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her eyes snapped open for a moment, unfocused and dazed.

“God—” she managed to choke out, her voice breaking as her body convulsed. “I—can’t—”

Her body tensed beneath your touch, her breathing erratic as she teetered on the edge of release. Just as the moment was about to break, you pulled your fingers out abruptly and delivered a sharp smack to her folds. The sudden sting and shock sent a jolt through her entire body, her back arching violently off the bed as a strangled moan tore from her throat.

That was it. Lia shattered beneath you, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her thighs clamped around your hand, trapping you there as her cries turned raw and broken, each sound carrying the intensity of her release. Her body convulsed, trembling violently as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her. Her hands clutched at the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as her hips jerked uncontrollably, seeking and shying away from the overwhelming sensations.

You held her firmly, your grip on her neck steady, grounding her as your hand returned to her folds. Your fingers worked with deliberate precision, prolonging her climax as her cries grew louder, more desperate. Her hips bucked wildly against your hand, her body writhing beneath you as she gave in completely to the pleasure overtaking her.

Her release seemed endless, the intensity of it leaving her gasping for breath as her body quaked under your control. The room was filled with the sound of her broken moans and the rhythmic slap of your palm against her oversensitive lips. Each touch seemed to reignite the flames, drawing out her pleasure until her body collapsed back against the bed, trembling and spent.

As the aftershocks coursed through her, her breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her skin glistened in the dim light, her face flushed and damp as she tried to catch her breath.

You loosened your grip on her neck, your fingers brushing lightly against her skin as you leaned over her. Lia’s eyes fluttered open slowly, glassy and unfocused, her lips parting in a faint, breathless smile. Her body continued to tremble slightly, the lingering sensations leaving her utterly undone beneath you.

You guided Lia’s trembling, sensitive body onto the bed with deliberate intent, her flushed skin glistening as she struggled to catch her breath. Her wide, dazed eyes met yours, still hazy from the intensity of her previous climax, but you weren’t done—not yet. Slowly, you lay down and pulled her back against you, arranging her pliant body with steady hands.

Her back pressed firmly to your chest, her legs spread wide and bent at the knees, her thighs trembling as you slipped your hands beneath them. Your grip steadied her, your fingers curling securely around the back of her thighs, holding her legs in place and spreading her open. The position left her entirely vulnerable, every inch of her body on display. Her arms rested near her sides, loosely pinned between your bodies, emphasizing her complete surrender to you.

Her head tilted back against your shoulder, her neck fully exposed, giving you an unobstructed view of her flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the faint sheen of sweat that glistened on her skin. Lia let out a soft, breathless gasp as the new position registered, her body tensing briefly before relaxing into your hold.

The vulnerability of it, the way your grip anchored her while she was spread open, only seemed to heighten her arousal. “Where did you learn this?…” she murmured, her voice trailing off into a whimper as she felt you press against her entrance. The sensation made her hips shift instinctively, her body eager and trembling as she surrendered completely to the moment.

Without hesitation, you entered her in one deep, deliberate motion. The pace was fast and unrelenting from the start, your thrusts deep and purposeful as you held her firmly in place. Lia cried out, her voice breaking into a desperate moan as her body responded immediately. The position allowed you to reach depths you hadn’t before, and her body clenched tightly around you, the new sensation overwhelming her.

Her head tilted back against your shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut as she gave herself over to you completely. The sheer submissiveness of her posture, her willingness to let you take control, drove you on. You leaned down, your lips brushing the curve of her neck as you pressed open-mouthed kisses along her flushed skin, your teeth grazing lightly before biting down just enough to make her gasp.

Lia let out a trembling gasp as your hand found her clit again, circling it with a firm intensity that made her entire body jolt against you. Her thighs quivered uncontrollably, her hips writhing in an attempt to escape the relentless stimulation. “Wait—” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she tried to shift away from your touch. “I’m sensitive—too much…”

Her words barely registered, muffled by the storm in your mind. The frustration and anger churned like a relentless tide, the image of her smiling, her hand entwined with someone else’s, replaying in your head like a haunting refrain. It consumed you, fueling the roughness in every movement.

You tightened your hold, your hands locking her helplessly in place. Her legs trembled, trying to close against the overstimulation, but the position left her completely vulnerable. With her legs spread wide and pinned by her own weight, she had no leverage, no way to resist as you drove her higher. Her body squirmed, her hips shifting desperately, but your arm around her wrists and your thighs holding hers apart ensured she couldn’t escape.

You leaned in, pressing your lips to the back of her neck where you could reach, the soft curve of her skin damp with sweat. The kiss was possessive, claiming, and when you bit down, she let out a sharp cry, her body arching against yours. The sting of your teeth sent a fresh wave of shivers through her, her voice breaking into a soft whimper as you soothed the bite with another heated kiss.

Lia’s body trembled, her reactions raw and desperate. Each time you bit down, harder now, her cries grew louder, her head tilting back to expose more of her neck as though surrendering completely. Her thighs tried to press together again, but the position made it impossible, leaving her entirely at your mercy.

Her pleas melted into choked moans when your hand left her clit briefly, only to return with a sharp slap. The sound echoed in the room, followed by her broken cry as her body jolted against you. The sting sent her closer to the edge, her breath hitching in ragged gasps as her hips jerked involuntarily.

The relentless combination—the deep, fast thrusts, the circling of your fingers on her clit, and the sharp bites you pressed to her shoulder and neck—pushed her further into a haze of overwhelming sensation. Her cries grew louder, her body trembling violently as she fought against the intensity. Even as her hips shifted and tried to twist away, her body betrayed her with every shiver of arousal, her movements weak and yielding to your pace.

Just as her body tensed in anticipation of release, you pressed harder against her clit, your fingers moving in swift, relentless circles. Lia gasped, her walls clenching tightly around you as her entire body strained, her climax teetering on the brink.

When you sensed she was at her limit, you delivered a sharp, deliberate slap to her clit. Lia screamed, her voice raw and broken as her body convulsed violently. The sharp sting mingled with the overwhelming pleasure, the combination tearing through her with a force that left her trembling uncontrollably. Her thighs twitched against your hands, her chest heaving as she sobbed softly, her cries a mix of pleasure and surrender.

You didn’t stop, your fingers continuing to flick and slap her nub while your thrusts maintained their relentless pace. Her body collapsed further against yours, her legs trembling as the overstimulation sent her spiraling beyond her limits. Another broken scream tore from her throat before her body finally gave out, her muscles going slack as she slumped back onto you, her head falling onto your shoulder.

Her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, her body trembling as aftershocks coursed through her. You released her wrists, your hands smoothing over her legs as you pressed soft kisses to her temple and along the marks your teeth had left on her shoulder. Her breathing gradually steadied, her skin still flushed and damp as she tried to catch her breath.

Your pace didn’t falter, even as Lia slumped further against you, her body trembling and utterly spent. The overstimulation of her climax had left her broken in the best way, her cries now soft whimpers, her breath hot and uneven against your neck. Her legs remained pinned, trembling as your relentless thrusts sent aftershocks rippling through her. Each deep motion made her body react instinctively, her hips twitching as though trying to pull away, but the position left her helpless, completely at your mercy.

As the intensity built, her breaths grew sharper, her head tilting back against your shoulder. The haze of her earlier release lingered in her glassy eyes, her thoughts slow and unfocused. Yet, as your thrusts grew faster and more erratic, realization flickered faintly in her expression. She gasped softly, her thighs twitching against your hold.

“Wait…” she murmured, her voice trembling and breathless, her mind catching up to what her body already knew. “Don’t… don’t cum inside me,” she pleaded, her tone cracking under the weight of her exhaustion and arousal.

Her words were faint, almost drowned out by the rhythmic sound of your hips meeting hers. Her protest lacked strength, her body betraying her as her warmth clenched tightly around you, pulling you deeper with every motion. Even as she tried to speak again, her words dissolved into soft, broken whimpers, her thighs trembling violently as her overstimulated body refused to resist what was coming.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter, the edge drawing closer with every thrust. Her whispered plea echoed faintly in your mind, but the overwhelming heat, the way she writhed beneath you, the way her body pulled you in, made it impossible to stop. The last thread of your restraint snapped as her walls tightened around you one final time.

“Fuck…” you murmured hoarsely, your voice trembling with the urgency of your release. Her body stiffened briefly, her lips parting in a faint gasp of realization, but she couldn’t move, her legs pinned wide and her body limp in your hold.

With a guttural groan, you pressed as deep as you could, your release surging into her in powerful, shuddering waves. Lia’s breath hitched sharply, her fingers weakly clutching at your arms as she felt the warmth spreading inside her. “Oh my God…” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her head fell forward, her body twitching in response to the unfamiliar sensation. The flush on her cheeks deepened, a mix of disbelief and something unspoken as she lay trembling against you.

When the last tremors subsided, you loosened your grip slightly, your hands smoothing over her legs as they remained draped across your hips. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of your mingled breathing, heavy with the weight of what had just happened.

Lia’s voice came out as a whisper, trembling with exhaustion but edged with frustration. “Too much… it was too much…” Her body twitched beneath you, her trembling legs sprawled limply against your hips. Her chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, her gaze hazy but laced with something sharper as she tried to steady herself.

Then her eyes locked onto yours, and the flush on her cheeks deepened, no longer just from exertion. “I can’t believe you came inside me,” she muttered, her voice low but biting. “You know we can’t do that.”

Her words cut through the heavy air, and for a moment, her expression hardened as she tried to assert control over the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you. But the tension in her brows faltered as her body gave a faint, involuntary shudder, the lingering sensation of everything pooling inside her impossible to ignore.

She shifted slightly in your hold, her thighs twitching, her skin hypersensitive and her mind torn between anger and something much more confusing. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say more, to reprimand you further, but no words came. Instead, she turned her head to the side, her expression tight, though not entirely resolute.

Inside, you could tell she was battling herself. The heat spreading across her neck and cheeks, the way her legs trembled against yours, betrayed a truth she didn’t want to face. Even though she was angry—she had every reason to be—the intensity of what had happened, the rawness of being completely at your mercy, lingered in ways she couldn’t deny.

Lia let out a sharp exhale, her body relaxing slightly against you as her anger seemed to ebb, replaced by a reluctant acceptance. Her head fell back onto the pillow, her breathing still uneven, her lips pressing together in a faint line. The silence between you was heavy, her internal conflict palpable, as the reality of the moment settled over both of you.

Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the air between you was filled with something unspoken, a tenderness that lingered even as exhaustion pulled at you both.

“Jisu,” you said suddenly, the word breaking the silence like a crack of thunder.

She turned onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you. “Hmm?”

“Can this ever be more?” The question came out unsteady, raw with emotion, as though it had torn its way out of you.

Her smile faded, replaced by something gentler but distant. She sighed softly, the blanket slipping slightly as she shifted to sit up. “We’ve talked about this,” she said, her tone careful but firm. “The reason this works is because it’s casual. It’s… uncomplicated. That’s why it’s good.”

You turned your head to look at her, searching her expression for something—anything—that might suggest she felt the same way you did. But all you saw was a calm resolve. “You’re great,” she continued, her voice quieter now. “You really are. But if we start complicating things, it’ll ruin what we have, could you imagine even trying to do this while one of us has feelings.”

Her words struck you like a punch, each one cutting deeper than the last. You forced a small, hollow smile, nodding as if you understood. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “You’re right…”

Lia’s hand brushed over your arm lightly, reassuringly, before she lay back down beside you, curling into your side as though nothing had happened. But something had. For you, the illusion that this could be enough had shattered, and no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself otherwise, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of the end.

As Lia slept peacefully beside you, you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. You couldn’t keep doing this—not when your feelings for her only grew stronger with each passing day, and not when she had made it clear she would never see you the way you saw her.

You slipped out of her bed quietly, careful not to wake her. The city lights outside her window cast long shadows across the room as you let out a soft apology,dressed and left. You told yourself that it would be the last time, that you couldn’t go back—not for her, not for anyone. You needed to find someone who would value you, who would want you the way you wanted them.

-----

The next morning, Lia woke up alone, sunlight filtering softly through her curtains as the warmth of the day began to creep into the room. She stirred slowly, her body aching in unfamiliar ways—her neck, her thighs, her core—all reminders of the intensity of the night before. She shifted slightly, wincing at the tenderness, and as the memories flooded back, her cheeks flushed with heat. The rawness of how you had been with her, the way you had consumed her so completely, lingered in her mind, each thought sending a fresh wave of warmth coursing through her.

Reaching for her phone, she hesitated for a moment, her fingers hovering over the screen. After a deep breath, she typed a quick message: “Last night was amazing. Thank you.”

She hit send, expecting the usual quick reply. You were always good at responding, rarely making her wait more than a few minutes. It was one of the constants she had come to rely on—your availability, your attentiveness. But as the minutes stretched into hours, her screen remaining frustratingly blank, she shrugged it off. You’re probably just busy, she told herself, though a faint unease began to creep into her thoughts, like a whisper she couldn’t ignore.

Life moved forward, as it always did, her schedule swallowing her days whole. But the unease grew, a quiet nagging in the back of her mind that wouldn’t go away. Still no reply. No follow-up. No late-night texts asking about her day or teasing her about something silly. It was unlike you, and with every passing day, it became harder to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Desperate for distraction, she agreed to another date with the idol, convincing herself it was the right thing to do. But from the moment they sat down at the trendy café, everything about the evening felt wrong. The vibrant chatter of the other patrons blurred into background noise, his words barely registering as she stared down at her phone, her thumb hovering over the unanswered message. It sat there, unopened, like a stark reminder of your absence.

He tried to make conversation, asking about her work and cracking lighthearted jokes, but her responses were flat, distracted. Her mind kept drifting—back to you. She could almost hear your laugh, picture the way you would have teased her about spending too much time scrolling on her phone. She thought about the little things you did, the gestures that had woven themselves into her daily life: bringing her food after late practices, the way you always seemed to know when she needed comforting, and the talks that stretched into the early hours of the morning when her world felt too heavy.

Her chest tightened as she realized it wasn’t just about the sex anymore—though that had been incredible. It was everything else, the way you had quietly become her anchor without her noticing. She missed you, in ways that went beyond physical, in ways she couldn’t ignore.

As the date dragged on, her unease grew heavier. She looked at him across the table, saw the effort he was putting into keeping her attention, and felt the guilt creep in. He wasn’t the problem. He was polite, charming even, but he wasn’t you. He didn’t make her feel grounded the way you did. He didn’t know her tells, didn’t know how to navigate her quiet moods or the way her smiles didn’t always reach her eyes.

She excused herself earlier than planned, her heart heavy as she walked out into the cool night air. Her fingers hovered over her phone again, the thought of calling you overwhelming her. But as she stared at your name in her contacts, she couldn’t bring herself to press it. Not yet.

Days turned into a week, and Lia’s desperation grew. Every thought of you tightened the ache in her chest, the longing building until it was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just about the intimacy anymore—it was everything else. The little moments, the times you made her feel understood, cared for, seen. The absence of those moments was suffocating.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside her was shifting. Something she hadn’t wanted to see before but now couldn’t deny. You weren’t just her escape, her comfort—you had become something so much more. Finally, she turned to someone she trusted: Yeji.

The three of you had always been close, bonded not just by your ages but by a shared sense of humor and camaraderie. After practice one evening, Lia found Yeji in the lounge, scrolling through her phone. Her heart pounded as she sat down across from her, working up the courage to speak.

“Yeji,” Lia began, her voice quieter than usual as she fidgeted with the edge of her hoodie.

Yeji glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

Lia hesitated, her usual confidence replaced by uncertainty. “You know about… my arrangement, right?”

Yeji set her phone down, her gaze sharpening slightly. “Oh, yeah,” she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. “I know about it.”

Lia’s fingers twisted the fabric of her hoodie, her nerves fraying. “Have you… talked to him lately? Do you know where he is?”

Yeji’s expression softened, the teasing fading as she leaned back against the couch. “Yeah, we’ve talked,” she admitted, her voice even. “But I don’t think I should tell you more than that.”

The words hit Lia harder than she expected. Her stomach twisted, and her voice dropped. “Why not?” she asked, almost pleading. “I just… I miss him. I didn’t think I would, but I do. I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until he wasn’t there anymore.”

Yeji sighed, studying her closely. “Lia, you have to ask yourself why he’s not here right now,” she said, her voice steady but not unkind. “You had to know how he felt—maybe you didn’t want to admit it, but it was obvious.”

Lia looked down, her throat tightening as Yeji’s words sank in. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she murmured. “I just… I didn’t know.”

Yeji leaned forward slightly, her voice softer now. “I think he needed space, Lia. He couldn’t keep pretending to be okay with what you two had. And now? I think you’re realizing how much he really means to you.”

Lia’s fingers curled tightly around her hoodie, her heart sinking further. “I miss him,” she said quietly. “Not just… what we had. I miss everything. I don’t know what to do.”

Yeji shook her head gently. “I’m not going to tell you where he is—it wouldn’t be fair. But if you feel this way, you need to figure it out before it’s too late.”

Lia nodded slowly, Yeji’s words settling heavily in her chest. For the next few days, she replayed every moment in her mind—every late-night talk, every thoughtful gesture, every quiet look that made her feel safe. The realization of how much she missed you, how deeply she cared, grew sharper with each passing day.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Lia grabbed her phone with trembling hands and called. The first call went to voicemail, then the next, and the one after that. Still, she didn’t stop. Each unanswered ring only heightened her desperation. She began texting, her messages growing shorter and more frantic with each passing hour.

“I need to talk to you.”“Please, can you call me back?”“Just… say something.”

When the texts went unanswered, she left voicemails, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “I… I really want to talk. Please, can we meet? Just let me know.” Every message sounded more raw than the last, the silence on the other end of the line gnawing at her chest like an open wound.

She lost count of how many times she called—her phone logs a mess of missed attempts, her inbox filled with drafts of unsent messages she couldn’t bring herself to delete. Each night, she lay awake, staring at her phone, willing it to light up with your name. The waiting was unbearable, each moment stretching endlessly as hope began to waver.

Just when she was on the verge of giving up, her phone buzzed. Her heart skipped a beat, and she scrambled to pick it up. It was you. A simple message: “Okay. Let’s meet.”

Relief and apprehension washed over her in equal measure. She stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure how to respond. After a long pause, she simply typed, “Thank you.”

-----

When you finally met, the air was heavy with tension, every unspoken word between you settling like a weight in the small café. Lia sat across from you, her usual poise stripped away. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, twisting the edge of her sleeve, her eyes fixed on the untouched coffee in front of her. The faintest hint of color rose in her cheeks, betraying the vulnerability she was trying to hide.

You watched her carefully, your own nerves coiling tighter with every second of silence. Her lips parted slightly, as though she wanted to speak, but the words didn’t come right away. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked up at you.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling but steady enough to hold your gaze. “For everything. For not seeing how you felt, for taking you for granted.”

Her words caught you off guard, the raw honesty cutting through the tension. You blinked, unsure how to respond at first. “I should be the one apologizing,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter than you intended. “For ghosting you, for catching feelings in the first place. I—”

“Don’t,” Lia interrupted gently, her voice firm but laced with regret. Her eyes finally met yours, and the warmth there made your chest ache. “Don’t apologize for liking me. Please. I need to say something first.”

You froze, her words silencing the flood of guilt that had been building inside you. She fidgeted with her sleeve, her gaze flickering downward for a moment before she looked back at you, her expression unguarded.

“I like you,” she said softly, the words landing with a weight that made your breath catch. “So much. I think I have for a while, but I didn’t know… or maybe I just didn’t let myself realize it. I got so comfortable with you always being there, and when you were gone, it felt like a piece of me was missing.”

Her cheeks flushed deeper, and her hands stilled as she continued, her voice trembling but resolute. “I thought keeping things casual was easier—safer—because I didn’t want to risk losing you. But I was selfish. I didn’t think about what you needed or how much it might be hurting you.

Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t stop. “I’m so sorry for everything. For not being considerate of your feelings, for pushing you away when you tried to tell me how you felt. You deserved more than that—more than I gave you—and it kills me that I hurt you because I was too scared to be honest.”

Her words tumbled out in a rush, raw and vulnerable. She took another breath, her eyes glistening as she looked at you, waiting. “Do you still…” she began, her voice quieter now, hesitant. “Do you still like me? Because if you do… I promise I’ll be better. I’ll try harder. I won’t take you for granted again.”

The question hung in the air, heavy and trembling with sincerity. You stared at her, the tight ache in your chest threatening to spill over. The vulnerability in her eyes, the way her fingers nervously twisted at her sleeve, the unsteady rise and fall of her breath—it was Lia, stripped of all pretense, offering herself to you in a way she never had before.

“I miss you,” you said, your voice thick with emotion, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “More than I can even say. And yes, Lia, I still like you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”

Her lips parted slightly, her eyes widening as relief and hope washed over her face. A small, trembling smile broke through her uncertainty, and she reached across the table, her hand brushing yours. You didn’t hesitate, your fingers curling around hers as the tension between you seemed to dissolve, replaced by a quiet, tentative warmth.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you heavy but no longer with tension—this time, it was full of possibility. Lia’s fingers tightened slightly around yours, her gaze searching your face as though she was committing this moment to memory. Then, softly, she asked, “Can I… kiss you?”

Her voice was quiet, almost shy, a stark contrast to the confident Lia you had always known. You felt your breath hitch, the question catching you off guard even though you knew the answer. You nodded, unable to form words, and her lips twitched into a faint, nervous smile.

When she leaned forward, the world around you seemed to still. The noise of the café, the clinking of dishes, the hum of conversations—it all faded as her face came closer, her hand still firmly in yours. The first brush of her lips against yours was tentative, testing, but the moment they met, something shifted.

This kiss wasn’t like the others. You’d kissed Lia before—passionate, heated, messy kisses in the haze of your arrangement. But this? This was entirely different. This kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t fueled by lust or need. It was soft, deliberate, full of emotion you hadn’t allowed yourself to name before. It felt like kissing her for the first time, like discovering something new, something sacred.

Her lips were warm and inviting, moving against yours with a tenderness that sent shivers through you. There was no urgency, no pretense, just the quiet connection between you as the kiss deepened, your free hand instinctively reaching up to cradle her cheek. She leaned into your touch, her fingers threading lightly through your hair as she let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing into the moment.

For Lia, the kiss was no less transformative. She’d kissed you countless times before, but this—this felt like peeling away every wall she’d built, every mask she’d worn. This was the kiss she hadn’t let herself imagine, the kiss she hadn’t realized she needed until now. It wasn’t just the physical connection—it was the way your hand trembled slightly as you cupped her cheek, the way you held her like she was the most important thing in the world.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as your eyes met. Her lips were parted, her cheeks flushed, her gaze full of something you couldn’t quite describe but felt deep in your chest. You could see it reflected back at you: this wasn’t just a kiss. This was everything.

“That…” Lia murmured softly, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words, her fingers brushing against your jaw. “That felt… different.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice low and raw with emotion. “It did.”

Neither of you moved to pull away, the space between you too fragile, too precious to break. For the first time, it felt like you were both on the same page, and the weight of everything that had come before fell away, leaving only the warmth of this moment.

The silence stretched again, but this time it felt less heavy, more open—like the air between you had shifted, lighter somehow. You cleared your throat, your fingers drumming lightly against the edge of the table as you searched for the right words, your heartbeat quickening with each passing second. “So, um…” you began, awkwardness thick in your voice as your eyes darted away from hers. “If you’re free later… I mean, after this—if you want, we could, I don’t know, grab dinner or something?”

Lia tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile that widened just enough to let you know she understood exactly what you were trying to say. Her cheeks flushed faintly, the color rising against her soft complexion. “Are you asking me out?” she teased lightly, her tone warm, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you tried to play it cool. “Maybe. I mean… yeah, I guess I am.”

Her smile softened into something more genuine, more tender. “I’d like that,” she said quietly, her voice carrying just the right hint of sincerity to make your chest feel lighter. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

The relief that washed over you was palpable, and without a second thought, you stood, holding out your hand. Lia’s gaze flicked down to your outstretched fingers, hesitation flickering for only a moment before she reached out and took your hand, her fingers curling around yours in a gesture that felt at once familiar and entirely new. Her touch sent a warmth through you, steadying your nerves as the tension between you eased further.

As you walked out of the café together, her hand warm in yours, the world around you seemed to blur into insignificance. The usual noise of the city streets—honking cars, chatter from passersby—faded into the background as the two of you fell into an easy rhythm. Lia’s steps matched yours, her shoulder occasionally brushing against your arm, and every now and then, you glanced at her. Her soft smile, illuminated by the golden glow of the streetlights, carried a quiet promise that made your heart ache in the best way.

You gave her hand a gentle squeeze, testing the waters, and she looked up at you, her eyes bright with a mixture of shyness and excitement. The small action spoke louder than words, her slight squeeze in return confirming what you both already knew: this wasn’t just two friends reconnecting. This was something new, something fragile yet full of possibility.

By the time you reached the restaurant, the hesitation you’d felt earlier had all but melted away. The hum of the city was a distant backdrop as you opened the door for her, gesturing for her to enter first. She smiled, murmuring a quiet “thank you” as she stepped inside, her gaze lingering on yours for just a beat longer than necessary.

Inside, the warm, inviting glow of the restaurant felt like an extension of the moment you were sharing. As you sat down, the conversation flowed more easily, the earlier tension giving way to lighthearted laughter and comfortable silences that spoke of a connection neither of you could deny. And as you watched her, her smile radiant and her eyes sparkling across the table, you knew without a doubt: this wasn’t just a return to what you had before. This was the beginning of something real.

[mcrveilles]

just this once // ln4

still overwhelmed, still can't believe this this is getting to much attention 😭 ❤️🫶 THANK YOU FOR YOUR FEEDBACK AND YOUR RESPONSES I LOVE EVERY BIT OF IT

also why are my WORDS LIMITED???? I want to write MORE wtf tumblr

word count: 3.7k with some extras in the form of social media posts warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: after things cooled down for a little while, you have to face lando and your feelings once again... this time with consequences.

tag list: @sltwins @sarx164 @hadesnumber1daughter @fullmugwolffish @willowsnook @sageskiesf1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @leclercdream @chezmardybum @landossainz @cloud-55 @sillyfreakfanparty @harrysdimple05 @mwuaferrari @milkysoop

PART FOUR/2 previous part - next part

The sun dips low over the sky, painting it in shades of amber and rose as you finish getting ready. You’ve been pacing your hotel room for the last twenty minutes, debating whether you should even go to this dinner. Max made it sound casual, just friends and some of Lando’s crew, but the way your stomach twists tells you it’s anything but simple.

Since Monaco, things with Lando have been... complicated. He stayed over after Qualifying, the two of you wrapped in an unspoken agreement to keep things platonic. But nothing about the way he looked at you, the way his presence filled your space, felt friendly. Then there was the race—his P4 finish—and the small get-together afterward, where you both acted like nothing had happened. Since then, his schedule’s relentless pace kept you apart, exchanging only a few texts that danced around anything real. Just keeping in touch.

And now, this dinner.

You change into your favorite outfit, something understated but flattering, and force yourself to take a deep breath. It’s just a dinner. You’re friends, you tell yourself.

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The restaurant hums with life as you step inside, trailing Max and Pietra. Warm light glints off polished wood and delicate glassware, and the buzz of conversation wraps around you like a soft blanket. You glance at the private room Max mentioned earlier, feeling your pulse quicken. You know who’s waiting there.

When you walk in, the first person you see is him. He’s tipped back in his chair at the head of the table, laughing at something someone said, his grin so easy and familiar it makes your chest ache. Then his eyes land on you, and for a moment, everything else in the room seems to blur.

“About time,” he says, standing up in one smooth motion. His voice is light, teasing, but there’s something in his gaze that sends a spark down your spine. He greets Max with an effortless handshake-hug, Pietra with a peck on the cheek, and then his attention falls to you.

“Stranger,” he says. “Lando,” you reply, keeping your voice even as you raise an eyebrow. His grin tilts, just a little lopsided, and the look in his eyes feels like a challenge.

The dinner is exactly what you expected—good food, great wine, and laughter that fills the space like it’s been waiting for all of you to show up. Max, seated on your right, is in big-brother mode, making sure you try everything and nudging your glass whenever it’s even close to empty. Across from you, Pietra chats animatedly with one of Lando’s friends, and you smile along, but your attention keeps drifting. Lando is at the far end of the table, surrounded by people who hang onto his every word. He’s effortlessly charismatic, telling some story you can’t quite hear, but that has everyone laughing. Except every now and then, his eyes meet yours, just for a second. It’s like he’s checking in, or maybe daring you to look away first.

You don’t.

When he gets up to refill his drink, he passes behind you, his hand brushing lightly over your shoulder. The touch is so brief, so casual, that no one else notices. But it sends a shiver through you anyway. “Having fun?” he murmurs, his voice low and private, meant just for you. “Loads,” you reply, trying to sound unimpressed even as heat rises to your cheeks.

His chuckle is soft, almost affectionate, before he moves away. You tell yourself to focus, to ignore the way your heart is beating just a little too fast.

Later, the table splits into smaller conversations, and somehow, Lando ends up next to you. Max is too busy laughing at something Pietra said to notice when Lando leans in, his shoulder brushing yours. “This is torture,” he says under his breath, his knee knocking lightly against yours under the table. Your throat goes dry. “What is?” “You. Wearing this dress.” His voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you hold your breath.

You don’t know how to respond, and for a moment, you just sit there, the noise of the room fading into the background. Then Max glances over, and Lando straightens, all easy charm again. “What are you two whispering about?” Max asks, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Lando doesn’t miss a beat. “Just telling your sister she has terrible taste in wine.”

“Hey!” you protest, and the table laughs. Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He drinks that sparkling stuff like it’s water.” The conversation moves on, and you pretend everything is normal, even as Lando’s knee stays pressed against yours under the table. And you don’t move away.

As the laughter around the table flows easily, your own chuckle gets caught in your throat when Lando leans back in his chair, stretching casually, but you don’t miss the way his knee once again brushes against yours under the table. It’s subtle, almost as if he’s testing to see how long he can get away with it without anyone noticing. Your pulse quickens, and you do your best to focus on Pietra, who’s telling an animated story about a mishap at her last work event.

But Lando is… distracting. His words replay in your head on an endless loop—”this is torture”—and you swear you can still feel the ghost of his knee against yours under the table. It’s maddening, really. The ease with which he teases you under Max’s nose, how effortlessly he switches back to joking with the group like he didn’t just upend your entire sense of composure.

You glance his way and catch him smirking, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. His focus shifts back to his drink, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression—playful yet deliberate—that makes it impossible to ignore him. You try to shake it off. You tell yourself that it’s just Lando being Lando: cheeky, teasing, good at making people feel... something. Just like always. Except this doesn’t feel like always, and that’s the problem. You’re trying to focus on the ongoing conversation. Something about summer plans, maybe? You’re not even sure anymore. Lando is leaning back in his chair again now, one arm draped lazily over the back of his seat, looking every bit like someone who hasn’t a care in the world. But he keeps glancing at you when he thinks no one else will notice.

“Alright,” Max announces suddenly, clapping his hands together as if he’s about to make a grand proclamation. “Drinks back at mine?” There’s a chorus of agreement around the table as chairs start scraping against the floor and people gather their things. You hesitate, glancing at your phone like you might have an excuse to slip away. But before you can concoct some half-hearted reason to head back to the hotel, Pietra loops an arm through yours, effectively trapping you. “You’re coming, right?” although she forms it as a question, you know it’s really not.

“I wouldn’t want to miss out,” you reply lightly, smiling at Pietra. Who, satisfied with your response, let’s go of you to join Max again. Your stomach twists again when you see Lando standing by the door, your coat in his hands, waiting like he has all the time in the world. His curls are a little messy, his grin lazy, yet sharp as his eyes meet yours in the dim light. It’s as if he can sense your hesitation and is daring you to pull away. “Come on, stranger,” he says softly, leaning just close enough that his voice feels like it’s wrapping around you. “Can’t bail now.” You narrow your eyes at him, trying to ignore the way your heart jumps at the way he towers ever so slightly over you. “I didn’t say I was bailing.” “No?” His gaze drops briefly to your phone in your hand, then flicks back up to catch yours. “Good,” he says, his voice dipping lower, quieter. “Because I wasn’t going to let you.”

It’s infuriating how easily he gets under your skin. With a huff of mock-annoyance—because genuine annoyance is impossible when he’s looking at you like that—you slide your arms into the coat he’s still holding and step away before the spark between you burns any brighter.

The group spills out into the cool night air, laughter echoing down the cobblestone street as everyone makes their way toward Max’s flat. Pietra loops her arm through yours again, chatting about some new café she wants to try tomorrow for breakfast. The walk to Max’s place is short, but it feels like an eternity with Lando so close behind you in the group. Every step feels charged, like there’s an invisible string stretched taut between the two of you. You try not to think about what he said earlier—or how his knee pressed against yours, or how warm his hand had been on your shoulder at dinner—but it’s useless. He’s inescapable, even when he isn’t touching you.

When you finally reach Max's apartment, everyone else appears calm and carefree. However, you have come to the realization that you can no longer let Lando do this to you. You don’t know if he isn’t aware of the drama it would cause if Max found out or if he just doesn’t care about the consequences—you however do care about the consequences. While never openly spoken about, you know how your brother would feel about this. He’d hate it. Lando is his best friend and you are his little sister. Two things that, frankly, shouldn’t mingle so close. So you make the decision to talk to Lando tonight.

It’s not like you don’t care or that you don’t feel things when you’re around him, but is acting on it really worth the pain it could and would cause?

Eventually everyone is spread across the living room, laughing and reminiscing, the buzz of good drinks and great music keeping the energy alive. You’re perched on the arm of the couch, balancing your drink as Pietra chats animatedly beside you. Across the room, Lando lounges in a chair, looking infuriatingly relaxed, his attention shifting to you every few minutes. It’s subtle, the way his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, but you feel it—like a spark skittering across your skin. You pretend not to notice, focusing on Pietra's story about her disastrous attempt at paddleboarding last summer. But when Lando catches your eye mid-sentence, raising his brow in a silent tease, your stomach flips.

Max comes in from the kitchen, holding a fresh beer, his presence immediately commanding attention. “Alright, whose idea was it to leave me in charge of snacks?” he announces. “I could barely find some crisps, let alone figure out this sweets situation.”

Pietra groans. “Max, it’s literally all in the cupboard. You just have to put it in some bowls.”

“But that’s where you put them!” Max protests, plopping down beside Pietra. His knee bumps yours, but his focus is on his girlfriend, who shakes her head fondly. Lando seizes the moment to move closer, taking the newly vacated spot on the couch next to you. “You okay there?” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. “Perfectly fine,” you shoot back, matching his tone with a pointed glare. But your attempt at indifference falters when his knee brushes yours—deliberately, you’re sure. “You’re really gonna keep your distance tonight, are you?” he asks, his voice light but carrying that edge of challenge that makes your heart race. “I am sitting next to you,” you counter, swirling your drink for effect. “You’re just mad I’m busy talking to everyone else tonight.” He chuckles softly, the sound brushing against your skin like velvet. “Give it time.”

Before you can respond, Max’s voice cuts through the room. “What are you two whispering about now?” His tone is joking, but there’s a hint of suspicion there that makes you stiffen. “Just telling your sister she needs to get some updated LN4 merch for the weekend,” Lando says smoothly, leaning back like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Excuse me?” you retort, feigning outrage. “That stuff is expensive, genius.” The group erupts into laughter, and Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Of course, it is. You should stick to the Quadrant merch anyhow.”

"Hey now," Lando protests with a grin, "I'm hurt, Max. Thought we were friends." The conversation shifts, but you can't shake the tension thrumming beneath your skin. Lando's presence beside you is electric, and you're acutely aware of every subtle movement he makes. You try to focus on the others, laughing at the right moments and nodding along, but your mind keeps drifting back to the man next to you. While Lando's quick thinking may have diffused the situation, it only reinforces your resolve to talk to him. You need to set things straight before they spiral out of control.

As the night wears on, you find yourself growing more and more restless. You've been careful to mingle with everyone, pointedly avoiding extended conversations with Lando. But his presence is a constant, hovering at the edge of your awareness. You catch his eye across the room more than once, and each time, that familiar spark ignites in your chest.

Finally, as the party begins to wind down, you see your chance. Lando slips out onto the balcony, and after a moment's hesitation, you follow. The cool night air is a relief after the warmth of the apartment, and for a moment, you just stand there, letting it wash over you. "Thought you might follow me out here," Lando says softly, not turning around. He's leaning against the railing, his profile illuminated by the city lights below. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Lando, we need to talk."

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "I was wondering when you'd say that," he says softly, a hint of resignation in his voice. You step closer, careful to keep some distance between you. The city sprawls below, a tapestry of twinkling lights and distant sounds, but your focus narrows to the man in front of you. The air feels thick with unspoken words and simmering tension.

"This... whatever this is," you begin, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, "it needs to stop." Lando's brow furrows, a flash of hurt crossing his features before he schools his expression. "What exactly are you referring to?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "The touches. The looks. The... the way you've been pushing boundaries tonight. It's not fair, Lando." Your words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's jaw clenches, a muscle twitching as he processes what you've said. For a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below and the muffled laughter from inside.

"Not fair?" Lando repeats, his voice low but charged with emotion. "What's not fair is pretending there's nothing between us." He takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. "Do you really want to ignore this? To act like we don't feel anything when we're around each other?" You bite your lip, trying to ignore the way your heart races at his proximity. "Lando, it's not that simple. Max is your best friend, and he's my brother. We can't just—"

"Can't what?" he interrupts, his voice rising slightly. "Can't be honest about how we feel? Can't take a chance on something that could be amazing?"—"Shh!" you hiss, glancing nervously at the sliding glass door. "Keep your voice down. Do you want everyone to hear?" Lando runs a hand through his curls, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Maybe I do," he says, though he lowers his voice. "Maybe I'm tired of sneaking around, of pretending I don't want to be near you every second we're in the same room."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you struggle to maintain your composure. "It's not just about us," you argue, your voice rising slightly. "What about Max? He's your best friend, Lando. How do you think he'd react?" Lando's eyes flash with a mix of frustration and determination. "I care about Max, you know I do. But I'm not going to let fear of his reaction dictate my life. Or my feelings." You glance nervously towards the sliding glass door, worried that your raised voices might carry inside. The last thing you need is for someone to come investigate. "Please, keep your voice down," you hiss, even as your own emotions threaten to overwhelm you. "No," Lando says, his tone firm but not unkind. "I'm tired of keeping quiet about this. About us." He takes another step closer, close enough that you can smell his cologne, a mixture of citrus and something woody that makes your head spin. His proximity is intoxicating, and you find yourself swaying towards him almost unconsciously.

"Lando," you breathe, your resolve weakening with every passing second. The city lights dance in his eyes, casting shadows across his face that only enhance his features. You can see the determination there, the longing, and it mirrors the ache in your own chest. But he's not listening. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and intense in the city lights. "I can't keep pretending," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Can you?" And before you can answer, before you can even think, he closes the distance between you.

His lips crash against yours, urgent and desperate. For a heartbeat, you're frozen, caught between shock and desire. Then, as if a dam has broken, you're kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands find their way to his curls, fingers tangling in the soft strands as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The world narrows to this moment—the taste of him, the warmth of his body, the way your heart threatens to burst from your chest.

It's everything you've been trying to deny, everything you've been afraid to want, distilled into a single, burning instant.

But reality crashes back in like a bucket of ice water, and you jerk away, your eyes wide with panic, breathing hard, your lips tingling and your mind reeling. "We can't," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Lando, we can't do this." Even as every fiber of your being screams to pull him close again. Lando's eyes are wide, his chest heaving as he stares at you, looking as stunned as you feel.

Before he can respond, the sound of the balcony door sliding open makes you both freeze. You take a hasty step back, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure everyone can hear it. Max steps out onto the balcony, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene before him. You and Lando are standing suspiciously close, both of you looking flushed and slightly disheveled. The air between you crackles with tension, and for a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below.

"What's going on out here?" Max asks, his tone light but laced with suspicion. His gaze flicks between you and Lando, searching for answers in your expressions. Lando, ever quick on his feet, lets out a low whistle and gestures broadly at the cityscape. "Just admiring the view, mate," he says, his voice only slightly strained. "Can't beat a night like this, can you?" You nod enthusiastically, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "It's gorgeous," you agree, willing your racing heart to slow. "I was just telling Lando how I could stay out here all night."

Max leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. The look he gives you is one you've known since childhood—the one that says he's not quite buying what you're selling. "Really?" he drawls. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you two were having a pretty intense conversation."

You feel your face flush as Max's gaze bores into you, his expression a mixture of concern and growing suspicion. The air on the balcony suddenly feels thick, charged with an uncomfortable tension that even the cool night breeze can't dispel. The city lights twinkle innocently behind you, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat. Lando shifts beside you, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, a reminder of what just transpired.

"Max," Lando starts, his voice steady despite the circumstances. But Max holds up a hand, silencing him. "Max," Lando repeats, forcing a laugh that sounds hollow even to your ears. "Mate. We were just..."—"No," Max says, his tone sharp. "I want to hear it from my sister." His gaze locks onto you, and suddenly you feel like you're fifteen again, caught sneaking out to a party. Except this is so much worse.

You take a deep breath, willing your voice not to shake. "Max, it's not—"

"Don't," he interrupts, his eyes flashing. "Don't lie to me. I've seen the way you two have been acting all night. The whispers, the looks. And now I find you out here, alone, looking like..." He gestures vaguely at your disheveled appearance. Your stomach drops as you realize the jig is up. Max's eyes narrow as he looks between you and Lando, taking in your flushed faces, the slight dishevelment of Lando's curls where your fingers had been moments ago.

The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken truths. You can hear the muffled sounds of the party inside, laughter and music that seems to belong to another world entirely. A cool breeze ruffles your hair, carrying with it the scent of the city and the faintest trace of Lando's cologne.

"How long?" Max asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "How long has this been going on?" You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Lando steps forward, his shoulder brushing yours in a gesture that feels both protective and defiant. "Max," he begins, his voice steady despite the tension thrumming through his body. "It's not what you think."

"Oh really?" Max's laugh is bitter, cutting through the night air like a knife. "Because what I think is that my best friend and my sister have been sneaking around behind my back. Am I wrong?"

[covenofagatha]

Sugar, spice, and everything nice (Part 2)

Word count: 3500+

Warnings: making out, slight mentions of masturbation, sex toys

You’re on your new laptop the next day when Agatha walks into the bakery. Your face lights up and she smiles at you the second she’s through the door. Like every time you see her, she manages to take your breath away. 

“Hey!” You exclaim, motioning your hands around the laptop. “Thank you so much again. You did not have to do this.” 

“I know I didn’t. But I wanted to, hon,” she says. Agatha’s now stopped in front of the counter, looking at you expectantly. 

“Do you want the usual?” 

She smirks playfully. “Do you remember everyone’s order?” 

“Only the ones that tip about 500% and buy me laptops,” you joke, but there’s some truth to it. You’ve had customers that have come in every day for a week and you don’t even realize it’s the same person. She seems satisfied with your quip and nods. 

“I’d love the ‘usual,’ thank you.” 

This time, though, when she holds out the typical $50, you pull out the change from the register and insist she take it. She raises an eyebrow. 

“Please, Agatha, you just bought me a computer,” you say, the beg coming out a little whiny. She teasingly rolls her eyes and takes the money from you. “Thank you. Your coffee will be right up.” 

“Actually, can you make it two?” 

Your heart skips a beat. Who is joining her? A friend? Her partner? 

And then you inwardly scold yourself for caring. 

“Oh, yeah, sure. Another espresso?” 

She shrugs slyly and skates a finger over the countertop. “I don’t know. What kind of coffee do you want?” 

You stare at her blankly, trying to make sense of her question. She must see your puzzled expression because she tosses her head back with a laugh. 

“I’m asking you to have coffee with me, doll,” she explains and the lightbulb clicks in your mind. 

“Oh–oh my god! I’m sorry.” Of course you’re making a fool out of yourself in front of the most beautiful woman on the planet. 

“You don’t have to.” This is the first time you’ve ever seen a flicker of doubt on her face. 

“No, no, I want to. Go sit down and I’ll bring the coffee over when I’m ready.” 

She sits down at the normal booth and you busy yourself making an espresso and a pumpkin spice latte. This time, you allow yourself to glance at Agatha and you feel something in your stomach when you notice that she’s already looking at you, a fond smile on her lips. There’s a tug in your gut and you smile back. You’re not sure why the older woman is drawn to you this much, but you are not complaining. 

There’s something about her too. Something that pulls you in and doesn’t want to let you go. 

You successfully make the coffee this time without any broken laptops and you bring them over to the table, sitting across from her before she has to ask. She looks pleased and blows on her coffee before taking a sip. 

“What’s your drink of choice?” She asks, nodding at your cup. 

“Oh, just a pumpkin spice latte,” you say dismissively. “I’m a big pumpkin fan.” She nods like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever heard. “And, thank you again. For the laptop. You really didn’t have to do that. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” You don’t mean for it to sound as dirty as it does and she smirks like she hears it too. 

“There is one thing you can do.” You urge her earnestly with your eyes. “Go ice skating with me tonight?” It’s getting colder in Westview and the winter festivities are being broken out, including the Winter Wonderland in the square. Complete with an ice skating rink, hot chocolate stands, a snow pit, a hill for the kids to sled down, and even more, it was a town favorite. 

You frown but your heart skips a beat at the thought of her wanting to hang with you. As a date? “How is that repaying you?” 

She flicks her hand. “The money isn’t a big deal. I just want to get to know you better. Unless you’re busy.” 

“No, I have literally nothing to do later,” you say, shaking your head. She looks relieved. “Can I at least pay for the tickets?” 

“Honey,” she scoffs playfully. “I asked, so I’m paying. If you want to pay, you’ll just have to ask me to do something another time.”

“This sounds an awful lot like a date,” you say before you can stop yourself. The corners of her mouth quirk up and she raises an eyebrow. 

“Do you want it to be?” 

“Yeah,” you answer almost immediately, your voice hoarse at the thought. A date. With a rich, hot, older woman. She smiles genuinely. “What time? Oh, I hope all my winter clothes aren’t at home.” You haven’t been back in awhile to your parents’ house and you only brought the necessities to make it until you go back. You’re not sure how many cute options you’ll have. 

“I’ll pick you up around five-thirty? And do you have warm clothes?” She gives you a once-over. You’re in jeans and your uniform top. In the back, you have the heavy coat you wear when you have to go outside, and back at your dorm, you have sweatpants. Not exactly up to par with this gorgeous woman. 

You smile and nod and try to not appear too nervous. What to wear is always a point of stress for you. She must sense this because she reaches over to pat your hand reassuringly and then pulls out her wallet from her pocket. 

Before you can protest, she slaps a credit card down on the table. Your jaw drops and you look back and forth between it and Agatha. 

“Go to the mall and get whatever you want,” she tells you, and there is not even a trace of a joke in her tone. 

“How do you know I won’t just buy a car or something crazy?”

She laughs. “I trust you. And I don’t think you would. You seem like a good girl.” She puts a lot of emphasis on those words and it makes you feel hot. You’re sure your cheeks have turned red. “Text me your address before tonight, yeah?” 

You nod because you don’t trust yourself to talk at this point. What kind of woman just casually hands over her credit card to someone she barely knows?

“Um, thank you,” is all you can muster the strength to say. She gives you one last smile before getting up from the table. 

“I’ll see you tonight, doll.” 

The moment you’re done with your shift, you head to the mall. You’re not exactly sure what will suffice for the date, but you hope you’ll know it when you see it. 

You eventually find some black pants that make your ass look great and a cute purple sweater with a blue vest. It’s a little pricey though. You know Agatha said to get whatever you wanted, but you still feel a little guilty, especially after she’s thrown so much other money at you. 

So you text her. Hey Agatha! At the mall right now. Just want to check if there was a limit to how much I could spend? I found some stuff but it’s almost $200. If that’s too much, no worries at all! You send her your address as well before you can forget. 

She immediately replies. Get the stuff and anything else you want. I can’t wait to see what you’ve picked out ;) see you later. 

The winky face causes heat to pump through your veins and you bite your lip. You clear your throat and head to the check-out, heart beating fast when you press Agatha’s credit card to the reader. It goes through and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

You still can’t believe she just handed it over so willingly. 

Is she your sugar mommy now?

The question weighs on your mind until she texts you that she’s outside your building later that afternoon. You give yourself a once-over and run downstairs to her car. The new clothes are comfy and warm and she looks at you approvingly when you slide into the passenger seat. 

“Good choice,” she says. 

“Thank you again,” you reply, a little breathless from the cold and your speed. You take out her card from your wallet and hand it to her. “I can’t believe you just gave your card to some random stranger like that.” 

She laughs along with you. “I know you wouldn’t do anything. You seem too desperate to please.” Your face heats and you’re not really sure what to say. She isn’t wrong. There’s something about Agatha that makes you want to do whatever she says. “How was the rest of work?”

“Oh, good.” You wave a hand dismissively. “It was a pretty slow day today. Did you have work?” 

She launches into telling you about her newest court case and you find yourself absolutely fascinated to the point of not even realizing that you’ve arrived. Everything Agatha says has you absolutely enthralled and by the faint smirk on her face, she knows it too. 

She leads you over to the ticket stand, her hand on your lower back, and confidently buys two. 

“Thank you,” you say again, a little flustered by how she hasn’t let you pay for anything. You’ll be damned if you leave without buying her a drink or something. 

“Of course, doll. Do you want to skate first?” You nod eagerly, causing her to chuckle, and you both go to pick out skates. She has to help you lace them up after you fumble with them for a while since your hands have become so cold. 

“Full disclosure, I’m not very good at skating,” you warn her when she’s holding onto your arm at the gate. 

“I can help you, sweetheart,” she says and your heart feels so full. 

She gets onto the ice first and lets go of the railing so she can grab your hands and assist you in stepping onto the rink. Your eyes widen when you almost fall after moving your foot forward and it shoots back, but Agatha catches you in her strong arms. 

“Oh my god,” you exclaim as she stands you back up, never letting go of her tight grip on you. 

“It takes a bit to figure out. How many times have you ice skated?” 

“None,” you say, tongue poking through your lips as you look down at your feet and focus on sliding them forward. She glides backwards with you effortlessly. When you finally look up at her, she’s staring at you with something written on her face you can’t quite read. “What?” 

“You could’ve told me that you hadn’t, I would’ve taken you to dinner or something else,” she says. 

“No, no, it’s totally fine. I would’ve done whatever you wanted to do,” you reply half-mindedly. You’re more focused on skating around the corner. Once you do so successfully, her hands move from your wrists to only one hand holding your hip. 

But her touch makes you jump, fire igniting in your stomach, and you slip and fall on the ice. 

You groan in pain and Agatha stifles a laugh before squatting down to check on you. The cold has seeped into your wet pants and the humiliation burns your cheeks. 

“You okay, doll?” 

You nod your head defeatedly. “Yeah, just a little wet.” The moment you say it, you can see her eyes darken just the slightest. Your breath catches when you realize the innuendo and there’s a tense silence with the two of you just staring at each other while others skate around you. 

“Well, let’s get you up. Want to keep trying?” Agatha asks finally. She gets back on her feet as gracefully as ever. 

“As long as you don’t let me fall again,” you joke and take her outstretched hands.

“I didn’t let you fall, you did that all on your own,” she says playfully. 

She carefully lifts you up and you grab onto her biceps when you’re fully standing so you don’t crash back down. Her hands grab your waist again to hold you steady and when you look at her face, she’s staring at your lips. 

“Agatha,” you say, but you’re not sure what else to add because now you’re staring at her lips too. She leans in an imperceptible amount and your mouth parts involuntarily, ready for a kiss. 

“Look out!” Someone shouts and the next thing you know, a three foot tall blur runs straight into you, knocking you, Agatha, and the random person down. 

“Sorry!” The kid exclaims and jumps up to skate away, leaving you and Agatha wincing on the ice. 

“Why don’t we go find something else to do?” She asks and you’ve never been more happy to agree. 

Agatha helps you up once again and this time, interlocks her fingers with yours and slowly skates with you to the exit. 

Once you’ve gotten your shoes back on, Agatha buys the two of you cups of hot chocolate and a pretzel to split and leads you over to a bench so you can sit. 

“Thank you for this,” you say, shoving a piece of the pretzel into your mouth. 

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” 

The pet name does things to you that you can’t say and you find yourself wishing that the almost-kiss on the ice actually happened. You feel so connected and attracted to Agatha, even though you’re not sure why. 

“Why do you keep tipping me so much and buying me all these nice things?” You’re finally brave enough to voice the question that’s been on your mind since the first day she came into the bakery. 

She smiles and reaches over to squeeze your hand. “You deserve it. And I like spoiling you. You get this cute little look in your eye.” You blush instantly and she laughs. “Like that.” 

“Well, can I take you out sometime soon? Maybe for dinner or a movie or something?” 

“I’d like that. I’m free Tuesday or Thursday night this week.” 

“I’ll see you Tuesday then,” you say, happy that she’s finally going to let you treat her to something. “Unless I see you at the bakery first. It seems to have become an integral part of your morning.” You’re teasing but part of you wants her to elaborate on what she’s doing. 

“What can I say? The cinnamon crumb cake and the espresso are to die for,” she says with a wink. You laugh despite yourself. 

Comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you sip on your drinks and eat the pretzel. 

“Is there anything else you want to do?” She asks. 

“Can we go on the ferris wheel?” 

“Of course, dear.” She stands up and offers you her hand and you obviously take it. 

The line for the ride isn’t long at all so you basically walk right into a passenger car. Agatha sits next to you instead of across from you so she can wrap an arm around your shoulders. The wheel starts turning and something on the ceiling catches your eye. 

“Is that mistletoe?” You ask, pointing up at it and then looking at Agatha, who is also peering up at it, corners of her mouth quirking up. 

“Looks like it,” she answers thoughtfully and then glances at you playfully. “Shall we?” 

You don’t even answer, just clasp her cheek with your hand and pull her in. 

It’s a slow kiss at first, just a press of your mouth against hers, but then she opens her lips and slides her tongue into your mouth. You moan into her mouth and try to pull her even closer to you so you can feel more of her. She sucks on your tongue and your teeth make a clicking noise when they clash against each other. 

When you have to pull back for air, she kisses down your jaw and then gently bites on your neck. You gasp and your hips jump against nothing. 

“Agatha,” you breathe and you can feel her smirking as she nibbles on your earlobe. A fire stokes to life in your stomach and your body feels like a lifewire. One of her hands dips under your vest so she can cup your breast through your sweater. You whimper and she chuckles lowly. “Please.” 

“Is this okay?” She asks and you nod so hard your head hurts. She smirks and her hand slides down and under your sweater. 

The coldness of her fingers against your warm stomach makes you gasp but you like it and you pull her back in for a kiss. Her hand keeps moving up under your shirt and she’s about to reach your bra— 

—and the Ferris wheel stops. You let out a sigh of disappointment and Agatha laughs. 

The door to your car opens and the two of you step out. You wonder if your face is as red as it seems and you hope that no one accidentally saw you two making out. 

“So what now?” She asks once you’re back in the middle of the fair. But there’s only one thing on your mind right now. 

You don’t care that you’re surrounded by people right now; you stand up on your tiptoes and give her a searing kiss which she returns immediately. Your hands wrap around her neck and hers find their place on your waist. You end the kiss by tugging on her bottom lip and when you pull back, her blue eyes are dark and hooded. 

“Can we do more of that?” You breathe and she chuckles. You’ve never wanted anyone so badly in your life and you think if you don’t have her hands on you in the next ten minutes you might die. 

“Anything you want,” she whispers and presses one last chaste kiss to your lips. “Does this mean you want to leave?” 

“Please,” you beg and she smirks at how visibly desperate you are. You’ve become so wet and needy since she put her hand on your waist on the ice. You practically drag her back to the car and when she pulls back in front of your dorm, you look at her with begging eyes. “Come in?” 

The moment you say it, you realize how ridiculous it sounds. Bringing a hot, rich, older woman up to your living space that’s probably the size of her closet so she can fuck you in your twin sized bed? Plus it was your first date and you’ve known her for less than a week.

She’s clearly thinking the same thing because she smiles softly and says, “Maybe on Tuesday, doll.”

And yet, you whine. “Why can’t we just go back to your place right now? Please, I’m so-” You cut yourself off before you can tell her just how much you really need her. 

Her smile turns into a knowing smirk. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take care of that yourself then?” You gape and a flush climbs up your neck and to your face, but she leans in and keeps going. “Use your hand, or a toy, to think about me. Just to tide you over for a bit.” 

“I don’t have a toy,” is all you can think to say with your brain short-circuiting. That shouldn’t have been the part to focus on, but Agatha pulls back with wide eyes. 

“You don’t?” 

And then the image of Agatha using a toy on herself inserts itself in your brain and you have to cross a leg over the other to get some sense of relief. “No,” you squeak out. 

The glint in her eyes is positively evil. “Have a good night, doll.” She gives you one last kiss and then unlocks the car door. You give her a playful glare and then go upstairs. 

After you’ve showered and put on pajamas, you slide your hand down your sweatpants and touch yourself. 

It takes all of three minutes before you cum all over your hand, just replaying the kiss with Agatha in your mind. 

You fall asleep quickly after that and in the morning, you’re surprised to see a notification saying that you have a package in the delivery room. You throw on a sweatshirt and head down and it’s a medium sized brown box with your name and an A. Harkness as the mailer. 

Frowning, you take it back to your room and cut it open. Moving the flaps aside, you peer in the box and gasp. 

There’s at least four sex toys. A vibrator, a dildo, a different type of toy, and then a small box. You pick up the box and immediately drop it. 

It’s a remote controlled, long-distance vibrator. 

Your breathing has quickened and you feel your underwear growing wet yet again because of Agatha. 

And then you see a piece of paper. Hands shaking, you pull it out and open it. 

Hope you enjoy ;) Maybe you can wear the vibrator on Tuesday. See you soon. 

[honeychamomile1]

Odd One Out

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Reader feels invisible around the Pogues.

Warnings: Crying, feeling strongly excluded, comfort, mention of disease, etc.

Note: I know this wasn’t part of my “Future Stories” post, but it’s been a side story for too long so I decided to post it! Hope you like it!

Masterlist

“I’m tellin’ ya, pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza, that’s uh,” Pope chuckled at the silly conversation of debate whether the topping belongs on the delicious food or not before finishing his sentence, “the end of discussion. Debate closed.”

The whole room was still trying to wear off its laughter, a few people still going off in a fit before calming down again.

The girl was laughing too, just a lot softer and less full of….what’s the word….happiness.

Most of the time she didn’t know what the jokes were about, or the little references they would whisper to each other were on the topic of. It didn’t help the fact that she was sitting away from the majority of the group, the one sitter arm chair away from the couch they crowded.

She still remembers the encounter of them practically pushing her away from the group, forcing her to sit on the chair alone. She had walked in with them, all of them still laughing at some joke JJ said but of course she couldn’t get a word in on what he spoke at all, for she was always in the back of the group anyhow. The friends had walked in the house, one by one plopping on the couch or on the floor in front of it, so there wasn’t a single little space for her to squeeze in.

If she thought back deeper and shut her eyes, she could still feel the stare they laid upon her, waiting to see her point of action towards the matter. It was almost like they didn’t like her, like if she went near one of the particular that very person would be the unlucky girl or boy to have to deal with her for the rest of the hang out.

So yeah, her cheeks flushed deep red as she stumbled over crossed legs and ankles towards the back of the room, muttering soft pathetic apologies before sitting in the very chair she is sitting in now.

Now it wasn’t so bad, just that she was in the back, meaning all she could see were backs of heads and once in a while profiles. So the bit of participation she wished she had was no longer available, so now she was sitting in the chair, her legs crossed apple sauce style so they wouldn’t accidentally kick someone.

JJ was so close. So close that all she had to do in order to talk to him was tap him on the shoulder. He would turn around and talk to her and smile, giving her one of those blue eye sparkles. Maybe then she’d-

If she kept thinking like this she’d never be able to participate in the conversation. So she forced out a chuckle, trying to ease herself in.

Maybe she could squeeze her own voice in with all the others? If there’s room for them there has to be room for her too, right?

“One time I went to a pizza shop and-“

Her voice dyed out, the response being absolutely nothing. No eye contact, no expression change, not even a glance from anyone, almost like they didn’t even hear her.

She was speaking loud enough, the same volume of everyone else, but she also didn’t want to talk over the whole group just for a grab of attention.

So the conversation she wasn’t included in continued, someone else’s voice covering hers.

That someone else being Kiera, who of course everyone has to pay attention to. “Yeah, I agree, no more pineapple on pizza talk, maybe we should get actual pizza.” She suggested, and everyone loved the sound of that.

So did she, her stomach being the other thing she was thinking about besides the fact she wasn’t being included. She got up with the others, heading out the door behind JJ.

If she just tapped him on the shoulder-

He closed the door. Maybe he didn’t see her, since there was a corner to go around before exiting the house, but he didn’t forget about her, right?

She stared at the closed door, the past events causing small tears to arise in her eyes.

No.

She can’t cry just because someone closed the door in her face. It was such a small thing, a small action of a mistake he might’ve made. She almost expected him to come back, staring at the handle to see if it would twist, awaiting his face to pop in and apologize for the little thing he did.

But he never came.

She took a sharp breath in, reaching forward for the handle herself and leaving the house.

The group was outside piling into the Twinkie, talking about. She went to the side door too, hoping she could squeeze in somewhere.

But all the seats were full, and all the pitiful eyes were on her.

“Oh, there’s no room. Maybe you could drive in your car and meet us there?” Sarah suggested, and it was the first time that day they spoke directly to her. And it should’ve been something she enjoyed, like a little invitation to join the conversation or an offer to squeeze next to someone, them willing to be a little bit uncomfortable just so she could join.

But it was something she wished didn’t happen, because why did she even go to the side of the car in the first place? Did she really think there would be room for her?

“Or someone could squeeze over..?” Sarah trailed off, looking over at the rooms of people, and the girl couldn’t help but notice how John B moved closer to the edge with the window, covering a small space. Her heart broke.

“Or ya could sit on my lap, Princess.” She heard JJ chuckle, and she glanced at him, her broken little heart believing him for a second, her cheeks softly flushing, before realizing it was a joke. Some people laughed, Kie smacking JJ on the arm but there was a smirk on her lips.

The girl cleared her throat awkwardly, fiddling with her hands, all eyes still on her.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna go anymore, I’ll just go home…I’m not feeling so well.” She had to come up with some excuse, some ticket to get out of there, not like they would miss her at all.

She just walked away, heading to the sidewalk to walk home. Alone.

No one wished her well, despite her lie, but she still wished to at least get a “get well soon” or a “goodbye”.

Nothing. Just pity looks as she walked away, not long before chatter filled the car once more and they drove off.

She didn’t feel like eating anymore, despite her stomach yelling at her because she missed the only chance to eat; they would probably make her pay for her own meal anyway.

So she headed home, arms crossed as tears finally made their way down her cheeks. It hurt, the concept of not being included. She was the nickel out of all the pennies. They were all tan skin and smiles, considering themselves lucky because they found each other, very similar to being lucky when you find a penny. But she was all silver and plain, having a different engraving on her and being a different size than everyone else; they were all small and sweet, yet she was the biggest fool out of all of them.

She hated being a nickel. What did she have to do to be a penny?

She didn’t know, and that right there made her cry harder. She wiped at the tears but nothing worked, for whole rivers were already down her face by now. Her heart cracked, she felt it, because she knew if John B moved over just a little there would be enough room for her to sit with them.

But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to sit next to her, like she was some sort of disgusting disease that he didn’t want to catch.

All she wanted was to be included, to feel loved and fit in by them. But she’ll always be the odd one out.

She fell asleep crying, and woke up hungry since she skipped dinner the day before.

She got out of bed, seeing her red-eyed self in the mirror while brushing her teeth.

She decided to go out today, to JJ’s house.

Now, it didn’t seem like a good decision, but she needed comfort and he was the only person she knew that would provide it. Maybe she would tell him how she’s feeling, not the crying all the way home part, and he would assure her he likes her in the group.

At least that’s what her brain told her he’d say.

Because her mother wouldn’t understand, plus she had other things to deal with, and she didn’t want to bother her father with all the work loads he had on his mind.

But JJ, he was the shiniest penny of all of them, and he seems like the only person to trust. Sadly she didn’t forget about the joke he made the day prior, suggesting she sat on his lap, but it was a one time thing and he could’ve been peer pressured to make it.

That’s what her brain kept telling her.

But the morning was sunny and warm, practically begging for her to enjoy it so she couldn’t refuse.

She put on some Jean shorts and a sun shirt, putting some knitted bracelets on her wrist because she saw everyone else wearing one; plus they were fun to make.

She had made one for JJ, his two favorite colors she overheard him reveal tied into the bracelet. She was gonna bring it to his house, maybe have the courage to give it to him.

She got to his house on foot, spotting his blob of blonde hair behind his car hood, where it normally was.

She shyly made her way over, gazing at his car to pass time. She liked how rusty it was, showing its age but it was still quite clean, like it was his prize possession. (It probably was)

“She looks good, doesn’t she?”

She flinched, looking over at him and making eye contact. His blues were something she admired, but looking directly into them overwhelmed her so she looked away. He chuckled.

One of the main reasons why she went to him was because JJ was the type of person who could talk to anybody. He knew the words to say or the way to talk to make the person comfortable (friend wise that is.)

She hoped he would do just that while he talks to her, and so far so good.

She nodded in response, hands in her back pockets of her shorts and fiddling with the bracelet she made him.

“Yeah, looks great.” She assured, despite the fact that she knew he already knew that, but then again it was all worth the smirk he gave in response, leaning back into the hood.

“What’s wrong with it?” She had the courage to ask, hands out of her pockets now and fingers fiddling together.

He shook his head. “Absolutely nothin’, just had to replace the engine.”

She smiled softly at that, glad that there wasn’t anything severely wrong with his car. “That’s good.”

He nodded, clearly half listening but she knew it was only because he was so focused on the task at hand.

They fell into silence for a little bit, and she was kinda glad he didn’t ask why she was there, mainly because she needed time to build up the courage to start the topic.

“Hey, JJ?” She blurted out, forcing her lips to move. Her heart started beating quite quickly. He looked up at her briefly at the acknowledgment before glancing back down, letting her know he was listening.

“Mm?” He hummed.

“Um,” she started, fiddling with her hands harder than before and trying to ignore the surprisingly annoying racing of her heart. “I noticed yesterday-“

“You noticed the toilet paper I put on John B’s shoe? You didn’t tell him, did you?” He interrupted, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. She’s always wanted an eye sparkle from him, that meant the topic was mischievous and exciting for him.

But now wasn’t the time, for she needed to get to the point before her courage wore off. “Well, no, I didn’t tell him, but-“

He let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I wanted it to be there when we went to get pizza, which…”

He slowly trailed off, realizing she wasn’t there when they went out.

She swallowed nervously, feeling her cheeks flush. “Yeah, whatever, anyway, I really need to talk to you about something.”

She was satisfied that she could get that sentence out, for the courage in her chest hasn’t left yet.

His face drew back, twisting with confusion but he looked okay with it. “Okay, what’s up, sugar?” He said casually, leaning back down and popping the old engine out, lifting it before placing on the ground.

Her cheeks flushed red at the nickname, but brushed it off so she could stay on task. She kept telling herself that talking to him would help, so she really wanted to get her point across.

“Um, well, I’m feeling a bit, I don’t know, like I don’t…belong.”

The word: belong. It was something she always wanted to do, something she would die just for a taste of being it. It was something she so wanted to be that she held the word close to her heart, holding onto it tightly so it wouldn’t leave her. It was slowly fighting back against her grip ever since she met the group, yet she wanted friends so badly she kept trying.

She stared at JJ to see his reaction, watching as he lifted the new engine towards the car hood. He must have felt her stare because why else would he look up, eyes looking as clueless as ever.

“Did you say something?” He said, scratching his head, closing the hood.

“What?” She pathetically whispered, tears welling up but she blinked them away. She cleared her throat. “N-no, I didn’t say anything. I was gonna say I made this for you.”

Her voice was soft and helpless, setting the bracelet on the now closed hood of the car after taking it out of her pocket. He stared at it, eyes softening slightly before looking up, meeting her glossy eyes.

“I-I hope you like it,” She said, voice thick and her lips were quivering, tears so close to bursting themselves out.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” He said, stepping around his car and reaching for her, but she snatched her wrist out of his reach.

“You weren’t listening to me!” She sputtered. “Just like everyone else.”

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could get out because he was in shock at her outburst. Normally she is the quiet cute girl in the corner, now her eyebrows were furrowed in anger and her cheeks were red. Smoke was practically coming out of her ears.

“Sorry?” She quoted. “I have been feeling like this for weeks, and I finally had the courage to talk to someone, that someone being you of all people because I had a speck of hope that you would listen but when I do you can’t do that just this once?!”

“Feeling like what?” He said- almost demanded- his eyebrows furrowing. She threw her arms in the air in asasperation at his response, like out of the whole outburst she expressed the only thing he heard was that little part. “Does it even matter?” She almost yelled. “You had one chance to listen and you didn’t take it. If you cared you would’ve listened.”

“I do care, sugar,” he desperately assured. “I didn’t know you needed my full attention. I should’ve listened, and I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t even matter anymore, forget about it, JJ,” she said, wiping her cheeks before turning away.

“No no talk to me, princess. I’m listening I promise,” he whispered, dirty fingers curved around her wrist.

She turned to him, desire for someone to listen to her was strong.

Once he knew she wasn’t gonna leave, he let go of her wrist, the warmth from his touch leaving her. She fiddled with her fingers, looking into his eyes that seemed so sincere.“You promise?”

He nodded almost instantly. “I promise.”

He even held out his pinkie to her, making her laugh but seal the promise nonetheless.

The rest of the morning they sat and talked, JJ’s smile as big as ever and the threads tied around his wrist.

She laughed.

Laughed.

And she actually got to hear his jokes for once. The ones she missed, misheard, and never repeated for her.

And those sounds were as genuine as they could get, her heart singing as he gave her a real eye twinkle.

It was at that moment her heart fell, fell hard for the boy next to her.

And at their next hangout she didn’t have to sit on the chair alone like she normally does, for now she got to see on Maybank’s lap (as offered) as she laughed with the group and got to have her say.

She felt loved. Felt like she was included.

And, most important of all, she felt belonged.

-Tell me what you think? 🫶🏻

[russo-woso]

Wicked || Leah Williamson x actress!reader

Masterlist | Prompt list

Summary You spent hours practicing songs, Leah having to deal with it all but as soon as she saw it all come to life on the big screen, all she felt was pride

A/N I saw wicked today and immediately thought of this idea

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It's time to try defying gravity

I think I'll try defying gravity

And you can't pull me down

You sang the words with emotion, practicing the scene and lyrics like you were filming then and there.

But instead of in a studio practicing, you were at home, scrubbing a frying pan because you’d burnt it.

You were playing the role of Elphaba in the new and upcoming movie ‘wicked’.

It was a breakthrough role for you, due to being a relatively new actress so you had to be perfect. Hence why you were practicing with every free minute you had.

There was one song though that you’d been dreading, defying gravity.

It was slightly out of your vocal range but you were determined to nail it.

So because of your determination, you were singing it fifty times a day

Which was admittedly, helping you, but it was also driving your girlfriend up the wall.

Leah had always been your biggest supporter, helping you practice lines or lyrics but this time, the non stop singing was driving her crazy.

She understood though, and each time you sang it, a small smile would appear on her face.

“How was that, baby? Did I hit the note?” You asked Leah, who walked into the kitchen.

“You were perfect, darling. You always were with the song and even more so now. So can you please stop singing it?” Leah said, walking behind you’d wrapping her arms round your waist and resting her head on your shoulder.

“I have to sing it, Le. I have to get it perfect. Now, sing it with me.” You said, a grin appearing on Leah’s face as you belted out the song.

I'd sooner buy defying gravity

Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity

And you can't pull me down

Leah just watched you in amazement, your voice sounding angelic.

“Darling, that’s the thirty seventh time you’ve sung it today. Don’t you think that’s enough?” Leah asked

“Fine. Anyway, my throats hurting a bit now.” You said, Leah laughing in response.

“I’m not surprised.”

—

It had been three days since then and you had flown out to America to film the final few scenes of the film, including the song defying gravity.

You and Ariana finished the final notes, the whole set silent, every single crew member speechless and mesmerised at the song.

It was incredible, even you could admit it.

The movie was officially over, it was all done and wrapped.

You flew back to England the following day, Leah welcoming you with open arms, whispering how proud she was.

Now, it was time for waiting.

—

It wad finally happening. The premiere.

Your leg bounce up and down on the taxi floor.

“Darling, it’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna do perfect, I know it. Everyone’s gonna love the film.” Leah said before pressing her lips to your temple. “I’m gonna be with you the whole time too.”

“I love you, Le.”

“I love you more, pretty girl. Now come, the crowds waiting.” Leah grinned, opening the car door and holding it for you to get out.

You stepped on the red green carpet, the press calling your name, telling you to look at them.

You gripped Leah’s hand, Leah squeezing yours in return, the two of you doing simple poses for the cameras.

You made your way inside, calming down a bit.

You had a few conversations with cast and crew members before finally taking your seats, the lights dimmed and the screen lit up.

Leah was already so proud even before defying gravity but my god, she was overwhelmed with pride.

You sang the words effortlessly, hitting the notes you’d spent weeks working on perfectly.

Tears shelled in Leah’s eyes as she watched you on the screen, her emotions getting to her.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You whispered quietly, wiping her tears.

“I’m just so proud of you.” Leah sobbed

You just pressed your lips to her cheek in response.

The credits started rolling, cheers filling the room.

The director of the film quickly said a few words before calling you and Ariana up to say a few too.

Ariana went first, before handing the mic to you.

“Firstly, I just want to say thank you to the crew members, without you the magic wouldn’t be able to come alive. Ariana, a big thank you to you. You made the god awful night scenes speed by. However The biggest thank you goes to someone who’s been with me for my when career. Leah, you have had to endure the torture of hearing me belt song after song for weeks. Thank you, Le. Anyway, enough of the tears now. Let’s get the after party started!”

“I know you said no more tears, but I can’t help it. I’m just so so proud of you.” Leah said, wrapping you in her arms.

“Thank you, baby. Thank you for everything over the past few months.”

“Don’t say thank you. Now, do you feel like going to the after party?” Leah asked, a smirk on her face.

“Why? Have something else in mind?”

“Maybe…”

[nana-luvy]

. 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠 .

warnings: cheesy dripping in sugar fluff, high school!Luke Castellan, afab!reader, reader is apparently a little obsessed with pink

In which you should've talked a little quieter.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You know that myth that high school girls use weird nicknames instead of actual names to talk about people behind their back ? That was far from a myth to you.

"Pikachu ? Who the hell is that one again ?" you asked your friend, visibly confused.

"It's the new guy, Harry, remember ? You know, Harry Potter to thunderbolt to Pikachu," Silena tried to explain without getting too annoyed about having to repeat herself for the nth time. The nicknames weren't always the best idea when one of you two had really a short-term memory.

"Oh, right, right..."

The two of you had nicknames for almost everyone in the class. You had to --you loved a good gossip session at the back of the class during econ, and there were plenty of people to talk about. And Silena, committed as she was, had a new crush every week who required a nickname of his own.

"But, wait- Didn't you talk to me about spider just a few days ago ?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

"Nah girl, spider is so last week... Plus, I saw his arms were as thick as twigs under his hoodie. That's a no-no for me, babe." Silena flicked her hair behind her shoulder sassily.

"Amen, sister," you added, initiating your iconic 'Legally Blondes' handshake.

“Anyways, I have chemistry right now, see you later ~”

“You’ll tell me everything about lab coat right ?” you yelled as your frend left in the other direction.

“And you about hedgehog !” She answered, turning around the corner.

You chuckled to yourself, putting your earphones back on, laughing softly at the mere thought: to have something to tell, you'd need to have any sort of interaction first...

Hedgehog was the nickname Silena had given to your own crush, Luke. Well, little... You had been pretty head over heels for months, now. But, in your opinion, he just had the whole package: curly hair that always looked effortlessly perfect, brown eyes like molten chocolate that drew you into their comfortable warmth, an athletic build after years in the fencing team, a charisma that shone through his every action, and a mischievous smile that could melt the coldest hearts.

He was in most of your classes, including math, were you were headed to at the moment. He usually took the seat in front of yours, and some days you had to put in the extra effort to not get distracted by the soft scent of his cologne or the overpowering of his radiant aura.

And apparently today was one of those days, as you heard his laughter resonate through your ears as soon as you sat on your chair, one you could hear even over the music still blasting in your earphones. You tried to ignore the soothing sound and simply unpacked your stuff, organizing your desk for the hour to come. But you didn't expect a discreet knock on your table, slightly startled by the movement in your vision, and expected even less to see Luke looking back at you when you looked up.

"Ca..row y...en?"

For a second you just looked into his eyes, incredulous, diving into the amber you worshiped so much, before he tilted his head to the side questioningly, a perfect curl falling perfectly on his oh so perfect face... Realization hit you and you instantly took the earphones out of your ears, your music still blasting.

"Sorry, couldn't hear you. You said ?" you rushed, clearly nervous despite your best effort to hide it.

He chuckled, a melody shooting straight to mess with your thoughts. "Yeah, that's pretty loud.." He motioned to your earphones. "Is that really Ayesha you're listening to?" he added, hint of a laugh in his voice as he quirked his eyebrow.

And you couldn't stop the light blush dusting your cheeks. "And unironically."

"Not bad." Luke said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Anyway, I was asking if I could borrow a pen ? I forgot half my stuff this morning and... yeah.” he explained, like trying to justify himself.

“Oh yeah sure, let me just-” you immediately delved into her case, trying to find something other than pink inked pens. Finally, you handed him one. “That should do it. Sorry it’s pink, it’s the only one I have I think… but it’s supposed to write in black, don’t worry.”

“No problem, I think I noticed you didn’t have much other color in your stuff anyways.” he chuckled, before delicately taking the pen you were holding, fingers brushing ever so softly. “Remind me to give it back at the end of the class.”

When he turned back to the board, the teacher now finally in the class to begin class, you were totally red. As cool and normal as it might've been to Luke, that slight, barely there contact had you in total panic mode, hand almost shaking, your fingers hanging in the air as you scrutinized every inch of skin that just touched his.

Finally, you would have something to tell your best friend after all.

--

The bell rang and you bolted out of your seat: you needed to find Silena and take your mind off what had happened just an hour ago. Quickly putting everything back in your backpack, you sprinted out of class, greeting the teacher before going out the door and practically running into your friend, that was apparently already waiting for you.

"The teacher let us out earlier than planned." Silena explained before the question even came up.

"Something happened." You said, wide eyes looking into nothingness. You grabbed your friend's wrist, quickly urging her to the other side of the hallway, not to stay at the entrance of your class.

"With.. who I think something could happen with?"

"Yes."

"Girl, we have five minutes before the next class, so you better make them count." she seriously replied, obviously wanting to know every single detail of the experience. An experience that just remembering had you dizzy and shaking from how unreal it was.

You explained everything, in detail as Silena expressly asked for an in-depth commenting, while going towards the next classroom for Lit, which you had together.

"I swear to goodness it felt like out of a fanfiction..." you whined, still having that tingling feeling in your fingers where Luke had brushed.

"I totally get you, I mea- Those fudging ashes." Silena glared at the two abyss creatures that had taken your usual spots, in the front row, before pouting dramatically. "I don't wanna seat at the baaack..."

You lead her to the back of the class, or more like dragged her, before taking seats next to each other on the last row.

"Could've been worse, we could've been separated." you stated seriously, though a small grin tugged at your lips, because it was a serious matter indeed: there was no way you could sat away from your best friend, how could you pass time in class if you did ?

"Right." You both sat down, putting everything you needed on your desks. "But I can't believe we didn't even have time to talk about lab coat, that boy is really taking over your thoughts... Dang, he's stealing my girlfriend." Silena shook her head from side to side disapprovingly, hugging you from the side in the clingiest way. "You know, I'm really starting to hate hedgehog for that, that little dwarf..."

You scoffed at her statement, before sighing dreamily. "Nah, you can't possibly hate him, he's too cute for that..."

"Why, thank you ~"

The boy in the seat right in front of yours twisted, a large grin on his face as he spoke those words, and you realized you should've paid attention when you took a seat. Because of two simple, common words. But two simple words spoken by Luke, that made you go pale and Silena stifle a laugh behind her hand.

He turned back to the board and away from you and your best friend in the same second as the lesson began, the two of you looking at each other with two purely different gazes. If one of you was clearly entertained by the interaction, a spark of mischief dancing in her brown orbs, the other looked like she wanted to get immediately buried alive 6 feet under. You wanted the ground to split under your chair and swallow you whole.

Silena just nudged your arm with her elbow, before going to listen to the teacher like nothing happened.

Meanwhile, your brain had probably never worked that hard and that fast to come up with a reason as to why in the world and how in the world he knew, all the while trying not to both gush like a crushing thirteen years old or burst into tears from the embarrassment.

The bell rang again and she had paid little to absolutely no attention to the lecture, words written on the white board completely meaningless to her, except maybe the 'cemetery' that did have a certain charm to it in this instant.

"Silena ? I'm going to the toilets. Meet me there." you said to your friend, keeping your sentences short. Your eyelids flickered in shock and panic after what had occurred just an hour ago, again, blinking repetitively. You plastered a small smile on your face before picking up your bag and going out of the classroom.

Once in the school's bathroom, you waited a good ten minutes for your friend, and Literature being your last class of the day you had time to waste. You paced the room, trying to clear your mind, thanking waterproof makeup when you splashed cold water on your face multiple times to try and ease the raging blush of your cheeks.

A few more minutes passed by, and Silena still hadn't come in yet. Actually, the door hadn't opened once since you'd come in; yes, a lot of people had class at this hour, but still, it felt weird. Curiously, you peeked outside of the room, wondering if the bathroom had been closed for public while she was in there for no one to come inside. And when you opened the door, stepping outside, you stumbled upon Luke, looking at his phone, leaning on the wall between the two bathroom doors.

But by the time he looked up, his eyes catching a movement, you had ran back behind the door, your back pressed to the stiff material while your chest heaved up and down quickly, in full blown panic mode again.

"Hey, you okay ? You don't sound well." You could hear his muffled voice on the other side, his worried face immediately conjuring in your mind.

"I"m good! I'm.. I'm good. Fine. Really. Don't worry."

"Very convincing..." You could just imagine his pretty brown eyes squinting with an amused expression on his face.

"What are you even doing here, lurking outside the toilets?" you asked, trying to calm your breathing while still sounding as unbothered as possible.

There was a short moment of silence. "I didn't give you your pen back, earlier."

Perfect, just perfect. "Luke, you can give it back tomorrow- you know what, just keep it, i have plenty of pens. Just go home."

A new silence. "You don't wanna know how I know ?"

You hesitated for a few seconds, pondering what could be the smartest choice, but ultimately opened the door a little, passing your head out.

Turning in your direction, Luke couldn't help but grin, weakly attempting to suppress a laugh at the scene and taking a deep breath to contain it. "Sorry, I'm not mocking you."

"Sure." you mumbled, finally going fully out of the bathroom and standing in front of the door, a few feet away only from the curly haired boy. "So ?"

"Well, I'd say you should pay attention to who's walking behind you when you describe a situation thoroughly, even when you use 'hedgehog' instead of a name." he simply replied, his characteristic smile dancing on his lips as he shrugged like it was obvious.

And you mentally face palmed, because it was obvious. Your eyes widened noticeably and you froze, a simple "Oh" the only breath that made it past your lips.

For a moment you stayed silent, completely frozen on the spot, your brain completely out of service.

"Y/n ? Is there someone behind your eyes ?" Luke joked, shaking a hand in front of your eyes in search of a reaction of some kind.

A name. Your name. In his mouth, rolling of his tongue, crossing his lips, like the only word that should ever exist. And it brought you back to the front of your mind.

“Yeah I- uh- how much did you hear, exactly ?” you asked, scanning his face.

“I’d say…. since the beginning until the end ?”

“Okay well then this is the moment where I tell you to please, please, forget all about it, it is no useful information to you, and I’m now going back inside the bathroom until you leave, bye.” You replied in one go, closing your eyes through it all to not have to face Luke's judgmental gaze, before reaching for the door knob.

But just before you opened it, the boy caught your wrist, your head snapping in his direction in confusion.

“Don’t you think it might be a bit dramatic ? I mean, maybe just forgetting about it isn’t the best solution.” he hinted.

You squinted your eyes at him, annoyance almost taking over your shyness. “Well, seeing as I don’t really feel like dealing with the problem in the logical way, I think my way is actually pretty good, saving you the hassle of the nice rejection and all...”

If you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn you caught a glimpse of deception flashing behind his amused expression, his smirk faltering for a split second.

There was another moment of silence, before Luke replied. “I mean, is it really good to make assumptions like that ?”

“Actually it is, helps face reality when you already have it all figured out before it happens, you know ?”

The amusement on his face was slowly laced with confusion. “I really don’t get how you’re so smart yet so… not.”

“Uh… Ouch much ?” you replied, slightly offended.

“No I mean- To tell you the truth, i did forget half my stuffs today, but i totally had a bunch of pens in my bag.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Then why would you ask for one ? You wanted a pink one ?” you laughed, trying to ease the growing tension building up in you again, for some reason.

“My friend said it’d be easier to talk to you that way. And I mean, it indeed is since I'm pretty sure I'm talking to you right now.” he said with a little laugh, that sounded more anxious than intended.

You looked at him in disbelief, arching a brow. “Why ?”

Luke finally let go of your wrist, hand coming to scratch his nape awkwardly. “I don’t know… I just wanted to talk to you ?”

“Exactly, why ? You give really little information, you know ?”

“I mean, you looked cu-ool.” he said, tripping over his words a little, his eyes visibly widening.

“Cyool...?” you squinted, confused, before shaking your head to just dismiss it. “Congrats, that makes you one of the two only people who think so, first is my mom.”

“Oh, come on, smartass, don’t make me say it.” he shut his eyes for an instant, nervously sliding a hand through his messy curls.

“Say what ? If you got something else to say, better make it quick before i go back to hide from my embarrassment, that I definitely did not forget about like i’d like to.” you urged him, smiling sarcastically.

Luke looked back in yourr eyes for a moment, the brown of his almost covered by a cloud of hesitation, before he finally parted his lips. “I obviously wanted to say cute, not cyool.”

As expected, you simply froze again. Not even blinking, just staring straight in his eyes, though as if you looked into nothing.

“And I thought it would be no good to just forget about it simply because it’s the perfect occasion to finally ask you out on a… date.” he nervously continued, muttering the last word.

His eyes searched yours for an instant, darting from left to right and looking for a reaction, or even just a connection, before you finally snapped out of it. You blinked repetitively, eyes darting everywhere but on Jamie, before literally pinching herself, ensuring you weren't just daydreaming and wouldn't wake up in math class.

“Waw, uh, okay, I don’t think I ever got that far in a fake scenario. Uhhh…” You just opened and closed your mouth multiple times without even letting out a sound, completely overwhelmed by the current situation. “Hey you know what ? I- um…” You cleared your throat, somewhat hoping it might help clear your thoughts, and finally looked at the boy in front of you. “I’ll text you.”

And you ran off towards the school’s main exit, bag and pink pen in hand.

Stunned for a few seconds, Luke just picked-up his own backpack off the ground and started walking in the same direction, laughing softly. “Weirdly, that was kind of expected..”

Just a few minutes after you left him, he received an instagram notification from what he knew was your account, an audio message. ‘Well, that on the other hand is unexpectedly quick.’ he thought, opening it.

“Yo ma boyyy, it’s Silena ! Soooo… your girl is um… out of service for a little while, I think.. Girl you okay ?? But I’m telling you, she’s totally on for the date thinggg ~ Just text her the details and I’ll personally make sure she makes it in time and place, do not fre- env- do not worry, wow, I can’t even speak properly anymore, I'm turning into you. Anygayssss, maybe don’t text her today though, y’know ? Cause she’s like, freaked out as hellll, but um, yeah. See ya !”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

'thank you' part on a tiktok kicking my feet like crazy, felt like I had to write it ~)

But yeah, hope you guys enjoyed reading, I love you allllll

Nana <3

[alisdarkwrites]

Yan! Oikawa and iwa Drabble <3

Fem pov

Tw: noncon, stalking, yandere behavior/themes, drugging, bullying, implied murder briefly mentioned, they put their cum into the drink (is that a tw?)

A/n: I feel like I talked weird in this but I kinda enjoy it and ahhhhh I’ve been gone so longggggg

Mdni

Everything is under the cut!

Oikawa falling inlove with someone so unpopular and insignificant to him that he can’t help but ask himself why? Why fall for her?

To cope with it Oikawa starts to make fun of her. The way she looks, dresses, acts. Despite the fact that he loves every single one of these things.

When he finds out iwaizumi feels the same way about her he isn’t happy at first. But as their feelings for poor, unsuspecting girl they have a crush on spiral into mad obsession they can’t help but work together.

Oikawa has some of his more insane, deluded fan girls stalk his darling, while iwaizumi takes out the trash. He scares off any potential suitors, whether by threatening them, or a more permanent solution.

Of course this isn’t enough! So oikawa throws a party, inviting everyone including his darling.

It’s perfect!

He has iwaizumi go up to her, acting all nice. Iwaizumi flirts with her a little bit and then offers to get her a drink. Once he goes off he has oikawa get the special little drink they made for her <3

They know it’s terrible, putting a sedative and a tiny bit of their cum into the drink but it’s ok… you’ll forgive them right?

Iwaizumi goes back to you, all kind and sweet, it’s to bad you don’t notice that gleam in his eye.

Once it finally kicks in, he asks if you need some rest. Of course you accept. Iwaizumi would never do anything bad right?

He brings you to oikawa bedroom, gently placing you on the bed. He leaves, locking the door behind him. You can’t help but drift into a deep, deep sleep…

When you wake up you can barely move. It’s hard to open your eyes but when you eventually do you see Oikawa in front of you. He beams at seeing you wake up. You feel someone wrap their forearm around your neck, putting you in a chokehold. You look up and realize it’s Iwaizumi.

You try to escape but your limbs feel so, so heavy. Iwaizumi grabs your arms, holding both of the with only one of his hands, pressing them out against your stomach. That’s when you realize that you were naked.

You started to freak out, begging them to stop and give you your clothes back. But oikawa just laughs and rubs you on the head.

Oikawa removes all of his clothes, gently pressing his cock against your hole. You beg him, beg and beg and beg him to not do this but nothing you say detours him.

He forces himself in

It’s painful, a burning sensation. It hurts before it’s even all the way in. Your telling him that he’s to big, that it hurts, but he just kisses you on the head.

His pace doesn’t make it any better. The second he thinks you’ve had enough time to adjust he pulls out most of the way. You feel relieved for a few seconds before he slams back in.

It goes on for hours, constant begging for it to stop and him mercilessly thrusting into you. Iwaizumi just kisses you, telling you that it’s ok <3

[overrboarrd]

sanctuary [4]: vendettas

firefighter!roman reigns x azure clarke [oc]

warnings: bodily injury,slight angst,

word count: 5.1k

a/n: ik it took me forever y'all, so so srry. but on a good note, i'm pretty much done with my classes so updates should come more frequently. currently waiting on my new laptop to get here, but other than that we're back to our regularly scheduled sunday programming! also, i've been debating on whether or not to include visuals in the chapters, so y'all let me know if that's something y'all are interested in! anyways, love y'all down, and happy reading!

June, 2014.

The night was thick with the scent of summer rain, though the downpour had passed hours ago. Roman sat in the driver’s seat of his old black pickup truck, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. The faint hum of Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven spilled from the speakers, and in the back seat, Dean sprawled out, cracking open his third beer of the night.

“Man, this song still hits,” Dean slurred, bobbing his head to the beat. “You can’t tell me it doesn’t.”

Roman shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re drunk, Dean. I don’t think you’re in any position to judge music right now.”

“Whatever, man.” Dean raised his can in mock defiance. “Seth, back me up here.”

Seth, riding shotgun, chuckled lightly but didn’t respond. His mind seemed elsewhere as he tapped at his phone, brow furrowed. Roman glanced at him, noting the tension radiating off him.

“You good?” Roman asked, his tone casual but concerned.

Seth hesitated, then shoved his phone into his pocket. “Yeah. Just… residency’s been kicking my ass. You know how it is.”

Roman didn’t press further, though he noticed Seth’s hands fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket. It wasn’t like Seth to be this on edge. He was the golden boy of their group, always level-headed and a step ahead of everyone else.

Dean let out a laugh from the back seat. “Residency? Pfft. Sounds like a fancy excuse to be a buzzkill.”

Before Seth could retort, flashing red and blue lights filled the cabin. The faint whoop of a police siren followed, and Roman’s stomach dropped.

“Shit,” Dean muttered, straightening up and stashing his beer can under the seat.

Roman sighed, easing the truck to the side of the road. “Y’all just… don’t say anything,” he said, his voice steady.

The officer approached, flashlight cutting through the darkness. Roman rolled down his window, keeping his hands visible on the steering wheel.

“Evenin’, officer,” he said calmly.

“Evening,” the officer replied, his voice firm. “License and registration.”

Roman handed over his ID, and the officer’s beam of light swept across the cabin, pausing briefly on Dean in the back seat. The smell of alcohol was faint but present.

“Been drinking tonight?” the officer asked.

“No, sir,” Roman answered. “Not me.”

The officer’s flashlight lingered on Seth, who shifted in his seat, then returned to Roman. “Step out of the vehicle.”

Roman obeyed, sighing and stepping out into the damp night air. The officer motioned him to the side as another patrol car pulled up. Dean and Seth were ordered out of the truck, and Roman’s unease deepened when one of the officers started searching the vehicle.

Moments later, the cop emerged holding a small plastic bag containing four small orange pills. 

“Care to explain this?”

Azure sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by the melodies of Chaka Khan and boxes that seemed to multiply the more she unpacked. The room was slowly transforming into a semblance of home. With her tired arms resting on her knees, she stared at the box labeled ‘living room’, realizing she’d been zoning out for the last five minutes. A nagging energy had been lodged in the back of her mind all day—an energy that, she had to admit, felt a lot like the pull of Roman Reigns. 

She and Roman had been texting throughout the week, usually about the football season or updates about work. It was casual—light banter, half-serious game predictions, and questions about how things at the hospital and fire station were going. Shaking her head at herself, she decided to grab her phone from the kitchen island, checking for messages and reminders of football games she’d half-promised her dad to watch. As if on cue, her screen lit up with a text from Roman. 

Roman: We’re watching the game at Jimmy and Naomi’s place Sunday at 2. Could use someone to defend that sorry ass team of yours.

A soft laugh escaped her as she read his text. The cookout had been unexpected, bringing a warm, easy comfort between them.  A small smile played on her lips as she realized how quickly they’d slipped into a friendly rhythm, perhaps a bit too comfortable for her own good. 

The thought of being around him again—and his family—felt exciting, though she tried to shake the feeling away. She typed out a quick reply.

Azure: I’ll be there. Someone has to bring sense to that family of yours. Except Audrey, of course. 

She barely had time to put her phone back on the counter before it buzzed again. Roman was quick with his replies, and it was clear he enjoyed this back-and-forth as much as she did.

Roman: Ouch. Guess I walked into that one. You betting on the Lions?

Azure: Please, I’m not THAT hopeful. I just want them to play like they know what they’re doing.

Roman: Fair. If they don’t show up, maybe you can jump ship and root for my team?

Azure: Never. You’re stuck with that 49ers disaster on your own.

Roman: You got me. But I respect Lions fans. It hasn't been y'all's worst year, I'll admit that.

Azure grinned, pleased at his response. She leaned against the counter, the flutter in her chest catching her off guard every time her phone lit up with his name, and she found herself looking forward to their exchanges in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Azure: What got you into football? Can’t say it’s not an obvious firefighter hobby.

She hit send and waited, her fingers tapping the side of her phone case. Roman always replied quickly, but this time, the seconds stretched into a minute, then two. She frowned at her phone, wondering if she’d somehow pushed too far.

Finally, the notification buzzed, and she felt a small flicker of relief.

Roman: It’s just something I grew up with.

That was it. No follow-up, no joke or teasing remark. Azure stared at the screen, her brows furrowing slightly. She hadn’t meant to strike a nerve, but his brevity felt like a subtle wall being put up. She knew she shouldn’t take it personally; after all, it wasn’t like Roman talked much anyway. Still, the abruptness of his answer lingered.

Roman: You watching the game tonight?

Her shoulders relaxed a little at his double text. He wasn’t entirely shutting her out, but the shift in tone was clear. He wanted the focus off himself.

Azure: Yep, told my dad I couldn’t miss the Steelers losing. You?

Roman: Audrey and I are watching it. Told her if the Browns win, she gets to stay up an extra hour on a school night.

Azure let out a small laugh, imagining Audrey excitedly cheering for the Browns just for the sake of a little more bedtime freedom.

Azure: Let me guess, you’re secretly rooting for Pittsburgh to keep her on schedule?

Roman: Nah, we pinky promised on it, so I’m stuck backing the Browns for the night.

Azure: A man of his word. I can respect that.

Her phone stayed silent after that, and she let it rest on the counter as she continued unpacking. But her thoughts lingered on Roman. She caught herself imagining Roman and Audrey on the couch, their laughter filling the room. Even with his guarded nature, it was clear how much Audrey meant to him.  She sighed, brushing off the thought, craving these conversations more than she wanted to admit.

Days at the station started early and ended late, each shift packed with an intensity that kept the squad on edge but also connected in a way that only first responders knew. Their evening drill had an added layer of rigor, with Roman calling for extra rounds to improve speed and efficiency in rescue maneuvers.

The guys fell into a steady rhythm as they practiced on the training dummies, the scent of sweat and metal mixing with the chilled evening air. Randy moved quickly, setting up the ladder with his usual precision. Drew climbed swiftly, while Damian had the patient loaded and secured within seconds. 

“Alright y’all!” Roman barked. “Again, faster this time!”

They reset and moved through the drill once more. Roman watched as his squad started to strain, but he ignored it, focusing instead on Damian’s words of encouragement towards the rest of the group.  As they completed the final round, the team slapped each other’s backs, their laughter mixing with the adrenaline coursing through them. It was these moments—these bonding experiences in the quiet before the storm—that Roman cherished most about the job.

“Good work out there,” Roman said to the team, nodding approvingly. “Head back inside, the rest of the night should be smooth.”

“As if you didn’t just jinx it.” Drew laughed, catching his breath and placing his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, don’t know why you even said that, brother.” Randy added, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

Not even five minutes later, the alarm went off. They shared a knowing look—Randy was the first to roll his eyes, muttering, “Told you.”

The dispatcher’s voice cut through the static over the loudspeaker: “Engine  2, respond to 1702 South Fort Street. Elderly female, fall with suspected head trauma. Approach with caution.”

Roman’s heart sank a little as he grabbed his gear. Head injuries were never easy, especially with older patients. And for reasons he couldn’t quite name, his gut told him this call was going to be rough.

•────────────────

The neighborhood was quiet as they pulled up to the quaint one-story house. The siren’s wail ceased, leaving only the sound of leaves crunching underfoot as Roman led the team up the front steps. They were greeted by a nervous middle-aged woman, who introduced herself as the woman’s daughter.

“She was in the kitchen, and she must’ve tripped,” the daughter stammered, wringing her hands. “When I came to check on her, she was on the floor, and her head was bleeding. I-I think she might’ve hit the counter on her way down…”

Roman offered a reassuring nod. “We’ll take care of her. Could you give us a little space, please?”

The daughter moved aside, her hands trembling as she held them together. Roman’s team entered the small kitchen, where they found the elderly woman slumped against the cabinet, her skin pale and her breathing shallow.

“Ma’am?” Roman knelt beside her, his voice soft yet firm. “Can you hear me?”

The elderly woman’s eyes fluttered open, but they seemed distant, unfocused. Roman signaled to Drew to check her vitals while he carefully lifted her head to inspect the wound. A jagged cut ran along her scalp, and he could see the faint pulse of blood underneath. It wasn’t bleeding heavily, but it was enough to be concerning.

“Vitals are unstable,” Drew announced, looking up with a furrowed brow. “BP’s low, and her pulse is erratic.”

Roman nodded, his mind racing through the protocols. “We need to get her on the stretcher. Randy, Damian, help stabilize her.”

As they moved her, the woman let out a weak groan, her hand gripping Roman’s arm with surprising strength.

“It’s alright, ma’am. We’re gonna take you to the hospital, okay?” he reassured her.

But just as they lifted her, the woman’s face contorted, and suddenly, she began to vomit, her body convulsing with the effort. Roman barely had time to react, but he kept his hold, guiding her so she wouldn’t choke. He shared a grim look with Drew—this wasn’t good. Vomiting after a head injury meant there was a significant risk of intracranial pressure. They had to move fast.

“Emergency transport!” Roman barked, his tone sharper than usual. “Let’s go—now!”

•────────────────

The hospital was quieter than usual as the night deepened. Roman and his crew had just finished transferring an elderly woman to the ER, her frail hand gripping his as she clung to consciousness. The call had been a tense one, and it lingered with him as he stepped outside into the cool night air, letting out a heavy sigh. He rolled his shoulders, the fatigue weighing on him as he scanned the parking lot.

And then he saw her.

Azure stood just beyond the automatic doors, talking softly with another nurse. Her scrubs clung to her slender frame, the faint glow of the hospital lights framing her like a portrait. When her eyes caught his, something eased in him. She raised a hand in greeting, her smile small but sincere. With a gentle nudge from her colleague, she started toward him, her hands tucked into her scrub pockets.

“Hey,” she said softly when she reached him, her gaze steady and warm. “Rough night?”

Roman nodded, dragging a hand down his face. “Head injury. Calls like that are always tough, and with her age… I just hope she pulls through.”

Her expression softened, and she stepped closer. “She’s in the best hands. You did everything you could.”

Azure’s voice was soothing, a balm over his wired nerves, his chest feeling lighter in her presence. Before he even realized it, her hand rested lightly on his arm, gentle and grounding. The soft warmth of her touch seemed to reach past the fatigue and the stress, sparking something in him that he hadn’t expected to feel so keenly.

He opened his mouth to thank her, but the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the fragile moment.

“Well,  if it isn’t the hometown hero,” came a voice laced with sarcasm. Roman’s jaw tightened reflexively as he turned to face Seth, whose sardonic smirk was as unwelcome as the tension he carried with him.

“Seth,” Roman acknowledged curtly, his voice void of warmth. “Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Azure’s hand fell from his arm, and Roman found himself missing the contact, an unfamiliar ache settling in his chest. Her eyes flicked between the two men, her posture tensing as Seth’s eyes lingered on her for just a moment too long.

“Oh you know, just saving lives… just like old times.” Seth’s voice dripped with mockery. “Even though you were always good at making yourself look like the good guy.”

Roman narrowed his eyes, a pulse of anger rising at the barely-veiled insult. But Seth continued before he could respond, looking toward Azure with an exaggerated shrug.

“Just thought you’d want a heads up,” Seth added.  “He’s always had a knack for playing savior. But sometimes, you can’t save everyone. Right, Roman?”

The weight of Roman’s irritation pushed him to put Seth in his place. “You got somethin’ to say, huh?” Roman’s jaw clenched, his body instinctively tensing. He shifted to face Seth fully, his voice low but his temper ignited to life. 

Seth shrugged, his sight shifted to Roman. “It doesn’t really change anything, does it? No matter how many people you help, nothing can erase what happened. Maybe that’s why you’re still trying.”

Roman stepped closer, his frame towering over Seth. “Walk away,” he threatened, his voice low and dangerous. Azure glanced between them, the hostility crackling in the air like a live wire.

“Oh, come on,” Seth ignored the warning in Roman’s voice. “Let’s not pretend we don’t have a lot to catch up on.” he stepped even closer, looking Roman  in the eyes . “You’re just mad that someone actually remembers what you were like back then.”

Roman knew exactly what he was getting at, and the implication felt like a sucker punch. His fists tightened at his sides, but he didn’t want Azure to see him like that—especially not with someone dredging up vague accusations about the past. He opened his mouth to respond, the sharp retort on his tongue, but Azure’s voice cut through, calm yet firm. 

“Dr. Rollins, maybe this isn’t the time.” She stepped forward, glancing briefly at Roman as if to steady him, then met Seth’s gaze with surprising resolve. “Roman had a difficult call. It’s been a long night. Let’s leave it at that.”

But Seth wasn’t done. “You think you’re some kind of saint now, Roman? Playing the doting dad, charming everyone around you? We both know you’re just trying to outrun what you did.”

“Enough!” Roman barked, his voice echoing through the air. Heads turned, curious eyes watching the unfolding drama.

Azure stepped between them, her voice calm but firm. “Both of you need to stop. This isn’t helping anyone.”

Seth sneered, his eyes bouncing between the pair before landing on Roman. “Next time.”

As Seth disappeared into the parking lot, Roman exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face.

“Roman...” Azure began, but he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice tight. 

She frowned. “Are you okay?”

Roman hesitated, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “I’m fine,” he replied, though the weariness in his voice betrayed him. “I, uh… I’ll see you Sunday.” He walked  away from her before she could respond. The tension in his body began to dissipate, but the anger lingered, mingling with frustration and confusion. He knew exactly what Seth’s problem was, but they’d seen each other in passing more often than not over the past few years. So whatever reason Seth decided to revisit the past all of a sudden left him more aggravated than anything else. 

The morning sun had barely started to pierce through the clouds when Azure clocked in at the hospital. She couldn’t shake the lingering tension from yesterday’s confrontation, the storm that flickered in Roman’s eyes—it had etched itself into her memory. She sighed, bouncing her leg as she sat at the nurse’s station. If only work could be the distraction she needed.

“Morning, girl,” came a cheerful voice. Bianca breezed into view, her bright smile a stark contrast to Azure’s somber mood. “You good? You’ve been staring at that computer for five minutes straight, and I bet you haven’t typed a thing,” 

Azure blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Before Bianca could respond, B-Fab sauntered up, her arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her face. “Honey, everybody saw that little showdown between Dr. Rollins and that firefighter of yours. He looked ready to throw down. What’s going on?”

“He’s not ‘my firefighter,’” Azure muttered, though her cheeks warmed at the insinuation. “And I’m not sure. They… have history, I guess.”

B-Fab smacked her teeth. “This hospital ain’t but so big. A fine ass firefighter EMT and the head doctor of our department going toe-to-toe? I woulda never seen that coming. That’s better than an episode of Grey’s-”

“Can we not blow this out of proportion?” Azure said quickly, lowering her voice. “It wasn’t that serious.”

Bianca arched an eyebrow. “Girl, please. The way Roman looked at Seth?”

Azure opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of the quick footsteps interrupted her. A nurse poked her head in. “Bianca, we need you in Room 312. Azure, Dr. Rollins wants to see you in his office.”

B-Fab gave Azure a pointed look. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” Azure replied, though her stomach twisted at the mention of Dr. Rollins. She wasn’t sure she was ready for whatever the conversation would bring.

•────────────────•

Azure knocked lightly on the office door, the sound of her knuckles against the wood barely audible over the hum of the hospital.

“Come in,” Seth’s voice called from inside, smooth and inviting.

She pushed the door open to find him sitting behind his desk, his signature smirk already in place. The way he leaned back in his chair, his hands folded behind his head, was far too relaxed for someone who’d nearly caused a scene outside the hospital the night before.

“Azure,” he greeted, his tone lighter than she expected.

“Dr. Rollins,” she replied cautiously, stepping inside and closing the door.

“Seth,” he corrected with a soft chuckle, motioning to the chair across from him. “Please, have a seat.”

She hesitated for a moment before taking a seat in front of the large hickory desk., folding her hands in her lap.

“I wanted to talk to you about last night,” he began, his expression softening. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Roman and I… we have a complicated history.”

Azure nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond. “It did seem… tense.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Seth said with a dry laugh, running a hand over his beard. “But I promise, I’ll do my best to keep things professional going forward. This hospital doesn’t need drama, and neither do you.”

She relaxed slightly at his apology, though something about his demeanor felt off.

“You’ve been adjusting so well here,” Seth continued, his tone shifting to something more personal. “I’ve heard nothing but good things from Bianca and the rest of the staff. You’re a natural fit.”

Azure bit the inside of her cheek warm at the compliment. “Thank you. Everyone’s been really welcoming. It’s made the transition easier.”

Seth leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the desk. “I noticed Roman has taken a liking to you.”

“He’s been nice, but…” Azure frowned. “Why do you say it like that?”

Seth let out a soft sigh, as if weighing his words carefully. “Look, I don’t want to get in the way of your personal life, but Roman and I have known each other for a long time. He has a tendency to… get involved with people and leave things messier than he found them.”

Her stomach twisted at the insinuation, but she kept her expression neutral. “I haven’t known him that long, but he doesn’t seem like that kind of person.”

Seth’s eyes softened, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Let’s just say I’ve seen firsthand how things can go south when you trust him too much.”

She didn’t reply, her mind racing. Seth’s words felt calculated, like he was planting seeds of doubt without offering any real proof.

Seth must have noticed her silence because he added, “I’m just looking out for you, Azure. You’re a great addition to this team, and I’d hate to see anything—or anyone—distract you from that.” His gaze lingered, making her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

“Well, thank you for the concern,” she said, standing abruptly. “But I can handle myself.”

“Of course you can. Just be careful. Not everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt.” Seth stood as well, his expression unreadable. 

She nodded slowly, her mind a tangle of confusion and frustration as she left Seth’s office. By the time she returned to the nurse’s station, B-Fab was gone, and the unease in Azure’s chest had grown. Seth’s words replayed in her mind, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his story—and to Roman’s—than he was letting on.

The rest of the week flew by for Roman. His large frame settled back into the plush sectional of Jimmy and Naomi’s couch, savoring the scent of buffalo wings and nachos wafting in from the kitchen. Audrey was giggling on the floor with Jey’s daughter, Mila; their laughter a welcome reprieve from the heaviness of the past week. The Detroit Lions were locked in a heated battle against the Chicago Bears on the screen, and while the game should’ve held his attention, Roman found himself glancing toward Azure more often than not.

She sat in the accent chair, dressed casually in jeans and a blue Detroit sweatshirt, her focus seemingly fixed on the game. Still, Roman could sense her reserve. Her laugh didn’t come as easily, and her gaze flickered away whenever his met hers.

Audrey’s shriek of laughter snapped Roman back to the moment. “No fair, Mila! You cheated!” she teased, pointing an accusatory finger at her cousin.

“I did not!” Mila shot back, her grin wide enough to betray her innocence.

Roman chuckled under his breath, grateful for the joy that Audrey exuded. But even in this lively atmosphere, his mind replayed the argument at the hospital—Seth’s words at the hospital had cut deep, reopening wounds he thought had long healed. Yet what gnawed at him now wasn’t just Seth’s accusations—it was how Azure might perceive him. The thought of her believing the worst caused an unusual feeling in his stomach.

Bothering him more than it should have.

•────────────────

The first half of the game was intense. Roman and Jimmy loudly cheered on the Bears, much to Jey’s dismay. Audrey and Mila eventually joined in, jumping up and down to mimic the excitement. Azure even laughed at their antics a few times, though she quickly fell back into silence whenever Roman looked her way.

Halftime came, and the game commentators’ voices filled the living room. Roman took a deep breath, catching Azure’s gaze. “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”

She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she nodded. “Sure.”

He led her out to the back porch, the crisp November air cooling his skin. They stood in silence for a moment before Roman finally spoke. “I wanted to apologize for what happened at the hospital. With Seth.”

Azure crossed her arms, her eyes fixed on the horizon. “You don’t need to apologize for him.”

Roman shook his head. “No, I do. That argument… it wasn’t just about work. There’s a lot of history between Seth and me, and I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of it.”

Azure’s gaze softened slightly. “He called me into his office after that,” she said. “Tried to explain his side of things. Said you were… untrustworthy, messy.”

Roman’s jaw tightened. “And what did you say?”

“I didn’t believe him,” she said simply, her voice steady. “It didn’t add up, not with what I’ve seen of you.”

The weight on Roman’s chest lightened slightly. “Thank you for that,” he said, his voice quieter. A beat passed before he continued, leaning against the wall next to the back door. “Back in the day, Seth, me, and another friend were driving, cops pulled us over, and… I took the fall for something I shouldn’t have.”

•────────────────

June, 2014

“That’s not mine,” Roman said automatically, even though he knew whose it was. He turned to Seth, their eyes locking. The unspoken tension between them felt heavier than the humid night air. The officer shook his head before walking over to the second patrol car as another officer stepped out of the vehicle. 

Seth broke first, stepping closer to Roman and lowering his voice. “Look, man, I can’t—this will ruin me,” he whispered, desperation in his tone. “Residency, my license, everything. You know what’s at stake.”

Roman’s stomach churned. “You brought that shit into my truck?” he hissed.

“I just needed it to take the edge off, alright?” Seth’s words tumbled out in a frantic whisper. “You—you’ve got connections. Your family knows the fire chief. This’ll get swept under the rug for you. For me? It’s game over.”

Roman stared at him, his mind racing. The weight of Seth’s plea hung between them.

Dean, now sobered by the situation, stepped forward. “Come on, Seth. You can’t ask him to do that. Take responsibility for your own—”

“Dean,” Seth snapped, his voice low and sharp. “This isn’t your life on the line. Stay out of it.”

Roman closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He hated the position Seth had put him in, hated the way the officer’s gaze bore into him, waiting for an explanation. But he thought about Seth’s future, the years of hard work that had led to this point. And he thought about his own family—their respectability in the community, their influence.

When Roman opened his eyes, his decision was made.

“It’s mine,” he said firmly, stepping forward and taking the bag from the officer’s hand.

“Roman—” Dean started, but Roman silenced him with a look.

Seth’s face was a mix of relief and guilt, but Roman couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes.

The officer gave Roman a long, scrutinizing look before nodding toward his patrol car. “You’re coming with me.”

As the handcuffs clicked around his wrists, Roman caught Seth’s gaze one last time. “Don’t waste this,” he muttered under his breath before being led to the car.

•────────────────

 “Why would you do that?” Azure’s brows knitted together.

Roman exhaled heavily, shifting his weight to the opposite leg. “Because I was protecting my friend. Turns out, I was just givin' Seth a free pass to screw me over... I didn’t serve time for it, but still, a lot changed after that.”

Azure’s lips parted as if to respond, but she paused, considering her words. “That explains a lot.” She spoke. “But I think it says more about you than him—you took the fall, even when it wasn’t yours to take. That’s not reckless. That’s selfless.”

Roman stared at her, letting her words sink in. He wanted to believe her, to see himself that way, but a familiar weight pressed against his chest. He looked out at the darkening sky, his voice quieter. “Maybe,” he said, his tone somber. “But sometimes, no matter how much you want to protect someone, it’s not enough. You can’t always be the hero people think you are.”

A sudden thud broke through the brief silence, followed by a small cry. Roman’s head snapped towards the back door, and the duo ran back into the living room where Audrey was cradling her arm, her face scrunched in pain.

Jimmy was already at her side, and Azure quickly made her way around the coffee table, speaking softly as she knelt beside her. “What happened, sweetie?”

“I hit the table,” Audrey whimpered, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Naomi, where are the Band-Aids?” Roman called, moving to join them, his heart twisting at the sight of his daughter’s distress. 

“Here,” Naomi jogged into the living room, handing the small box to him.

Roman handed a single Band-Aid and alcohol pad to Azure, watching as she carefully applied it and chatted with Audrey to keep her calm. 

“It’s just a little scrape,” Azure soothed. “You’re okay, I promise.”

Roman crouched beside them, watching how tender Azure was with his daughter. The way Audrey leaned into her, trusting her completely, filled him with an unexpected warmth.

“Thanks, Azure,” Roman said, his voice low. His hand moved instinctively, resting on her shoulder for a brief moment, the contact surprising him.  

“You’re welcome,” a faint smile spread across Azure’s face. The rest of the game passed in a blur for Roman. His focus wasn’t on the field or the score but on the woman sitting across from him and the way she had quietly worked her way into his life. Their lives. As the final whistle blew, signaling a Lions win, Roman found himself looking forward to the next Sunday—and not just for the football.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Do you think Katara could have loved Zuko before he got his scar? Let me explain: do you see the episode in season 1 where we discover Aang and Zuko's past?We have a Zuko we hadn't seen before: he wanted to save the crew, he showed himself as a hero, brave and compassionate. We know that Katara is attracted to people like that. Who seeks to help people (even if it was the Fire Nation), it was still a crew that was going to die for a vain sacrifice.

Zuko stood up to the leaders, just as Katara stood up to Pakku to defend the other women of the tribe; it's a small parallel that could have connected them. In that moment, I could say that maybe if Katara had met Zuko at that time, she might have been attracted to his devotion and his need to protect others.

Because I dug into the series to find out when Katara could have fallen in love with Zuko, and ultimately, I don't find any attraction between them. Because after Zuko's father disfigured his face, it created a trauma in him and changed him: not that the brave and compassionate Zuko no longer exists, but the trauma matrixed him, made him change... That's when I see the attraction between Katara and Zuko more clearly.

Zuko, after his banishment, became very angry, rarely smiled, withdrawn, and very emotional, which sometimes hurt those close to him. (emo, si je peux dire). But over the seasons, he gradually changes.

Even after he joined the gaang, he is still somewhat the same person, but with more sensitivity and more open to others.

Now, tell me how, in all that I just mentioned, Katara would have an attraction to Zuko with all the intrigues that have happened, Ba Sing Se, the North and South (1 s) and so on...

Maybe her awkwardness in communicating with others is charming in her personality?

His physique?

His way of being clumsily intentional?

But guess who is the person who was attracted to Zuko with the three points I just mentioned: Jin

I find that Zutara fans try too hard to force a connection so that Katara can fall in love with Zuko when there isn't one. Or it's because they themselves have a crush on Zuko, which is normal, but they want Katara to fall in love with him because he is the ideal model for a girl. While rejecting Katara's needs and her personality,

1 - Pre-scar Zuko was already raised to be an imperialist that would do things like laugh at a joke about Ba Sing Se being burned to the ground, and yes, objected to HIS soldiers getting killed, but not the literal war and genocide his nation and family had been engaging in for a whole century. Katara isn't gonna be impressed by his compassion towards the people of his nation when he has none for the other nations - including her own.

2 - Pre-scar Zuko was already being negatively affected by being raised by a parent that was emotionally and verbally abusive towards him (and agreed to MURDER him, leading to his mother's disappearance/"death"). He isn't being openly hostile to everyone around him, but he is already a victim, traumatized and coping poorly by trying to "earn" not only his father's love but the basic right to not be his punching bag - by supporting his evil actions. Katara's potential empathy for the unfair situation Zuko was in wouldn't blind her to the fact he is being unfair to others too, just look at how fast she turned against Jet.

3 - Lack of compassion might be a deal-breaker for Katara, but someone not being a cruel bastard is not enough to make her fall in love with someone - if it were, she would have had feelings for half the cast. Compassion is the bare minimum for her not to HATE someone, not for her to LOVE them.

4 - Katara likes effortlessly cool/charming guys, that's Jet (literally) sweeps her off her feet, and why she's all over Aang when he's being the cool guy in cave party in "The Headband" but is FURIOUS at his awkwardness and cluelessness in "Cave Of Two Lovers." She would NOT appreciate Zuko's dorkiness and he would not appriciate her getting mad at him for it.

5 - Katara met the new and improved Zuko, who, despite his flaws, was kind, regretful, compassionate and willing to do what was right and, more importantly, keep his own bad behaviors in check, which Katara does appreciate. Yet not only did she still not fall in love with him, she treated him the same way she treats Sokka, her brother.

6 - While Jin was certainly charmed by Zuko being hot, as well as pure of heart and dumb of ass, we cannot really use her as basis for comparisson to LOVE. She didn't even know his real name, let alone understand who he is a person. MAI loved him. When he was an innocent, sweet child. When he was a moody, kind of asshole teen. When he was an honorable, brave, wise young man. Mai is the one who loves every version of Zuko, not Jin, and surely not Katara.

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"For life." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

(Not my gifs)

Daryl tells his daughter about the day she was born (And she asks him an awkward question)

A/N: Just a continuation of my first imagine with dad!Daryl. My everything. I don't know why but I always imagined his daughter as Lexi Rabe, Iron Man's daughter, (I took a scene too, sorry hehe) but as always, you can imagine her differently. Thanks for the love my imagines are receiving! I had so much fun writing this so i hope you like it♥

“Shit…” Daryl whispers, and the group around him sinks into silence.

The few present, some members of his family, including his wife, stare at the map on the dining room table, plotting in their minds what was the best option to attack Negan’s clan before he attacks Alexandria again, before he puts at risk the lives of the innocents who had been caught in the crossfire.

But the silence is broken by a small voice, as sweet as honey since she learned to speak.

“Shit.”

They all turn to the staircase behind them, especially Daryl, who could recognize his daughter’s voice among a sea of ​​murmurs, even if they were louder than her small voice. Daryl had a good memory, and he had memorized her voice since Marley said her first word, which, to his delight, was daddy. But now Marley Rose Dixon is 4 years old already, and although her bag of words as he used to call it was still limited, she had learned to memorize a lot of things at her young age.

Daryl walks over to her, who is sitting on the bottom step, wearing her pajamas with little baby elephant prints on them, and he lifts her up in his arms, enveloping her in his warmth. For her part, Marley hugs his neck, and she smiles back at him, a little sleepily because it is already past midnight.

“What are ya doin' up, youn' lady? It’s late and ya should be sleepin'.”

“Shit.” She repeats, laughing, just to make him uncomfortable, although she didn’t know she was actually doing it.

You chuckle, as do Rick, Michonne, and the others.

“No, angel, it ain't 'kay to say that word.” Daryl scolds her, softly as he uses one hand to push some strands of her brown hair out of her face. “That word belongs to mommy, so only she can say it.”

Marley frowns, tilting her head to look at him with her deep blue eyes and an accusatory expression.

“But you said it, daddy.”

He clears his throat before answering.

“Yeah, but only 'cause Mommy lends it to me sometimes, right, Mommy?” Daryl glances in your direction, and when everyone turns their gazes to you, the weight falls on your shoulders, so you just nod with a solemn expression. “See? Now we’re gonna take ya back to yer room, 'kay?”

Marley hugs his neck closer, their noses touching, making Daryl smile.

“But can you tell me a story?”

Before you or Daryl can speak, though, Rick ends the meeting. Everyone retreats to their own homes, kissing Marley on the cheek or stroking her hair on their way out, and when the three of you are alone again, you all head up the stairs to her room.

Once there, Daryl sets Marley down on her bed, tucking her into her blanket as you grab a book from her shelf. There weren’t many children’s books in that new world, so the two of you had started reading Marley books about wild animals, exotic flowers, and more.

He lays down next to her on the blanket, their heads touching on the pillow as you hand him a book. But Daryl skims through it first, frowning as he looks back at you.

“What? No pictures this time?”

“Borin’!” Marley replies, mimicking her father’s expression.

Her words make you let out a deep breath, but you chuckle too, just because even though you had given birth to her, she looks more like her father than you.

“Oh no. Look what we did. We created a little Daryl Dixon. As if we didn’t have enough with the one we already have at home.” Shaking your head, you walk out of the room, hearing your husband’s voice behind you.

“I’m so proud of the daughter I raised!”

You hear the laugh in his deep voice, but before Daryl can open the book, Marley gently pushes it away.

“Daddy, tell me one of your stories.”

He settles down on the bed, looking into her eyes that were just like his own. Daryl could get lost in the depths of her blue eyes, all day, all night, or all his life: it was like that from the first time he saw her anyways.

“Did Mommy tell ya about the day ya were born?”

She shakes her head.

“Well, we were waitin' for ya for several months now, but ya were two weeks early. It seems that Mommy’s belly wasn’t very comfortable anymore. That night, Daddy had gotten to the gates after a run when Aunt Maggie told me that Mommy was ready to give birth, and when I got to our room, she was very, very scared. So I sat behind 'er on the bed and told 'er how brave she was, that she jus' needed to endure the pain a little longer to meet our baby.”

Daryl smiles slightly at the memory despite the fear he felt, because there was always a chance of losing his wife or his daughter, and Marley looks at him curiously.

“Were you scared?”

Daryl chuckles, stopping himself from saying shit again.

“Terrified, angel. Daddy couldn’t do anythin’ to stop Mommy from havin’ that pain, but we both know how strong Mommy is, and I knew she could do it. Ya took a long time to be born, but in the end, yer cry was the most beautiful sound I ever heard. Ya were healthy, and that was all yer mommy and I asked of life. Then the doctor put ya on mommy’s chest, and suddenly ya stopped cryin' when ya looked into 'er eyes.”

“How did I look at Mommy?”

Daryl smiles, bringing a hand up to Marley’s face to caress her cheek.

“Ya looked at each other like ya’d known each other forever.”

“And how did I look at you?”

Marley chuckles as he leans closer to her, so close that he can rub his nose against his daughter’s, hearing that sweet sound he’s memorized as well.

“Ya looked at me like ya were goin' to love me yer whole life.”

Marley smiles.

“But I love you, Daddy.”

“For life?”

She nods quickly.

“For life.”

For Daryl, who was never given a touch of affection, he knows well that he would give his life for his daughter, because she had loved him long before she knew what love was. But she grew up surrounded by it, by her family, by her mother, and most of all by him, who always knew how to love despite not having been loved when he was a child.

And it is easy for him to say the words that he never received.

“Daddy loves ya, Marley, with all his heart.”

She smiles, kissing his nose before wrapping an arm around his neck.

“I love you too, daddy, with all my heart.”

“That’s good to know, ma little angel.” Daryl caresses her cheek one more time before pulling away from her, getting up to tuck her in before leaving. “Ya must sleep now, sweetheart. It’s late.”

“Daddy?” Just as he adjusts her blanket for the last time, he stops. “Can I have a pet?”

Daryl thinks for a moment: it’s been a while since anyone had seen a pet.

“How about a fish? Daddy can take ya fishin' and we can come home with a pet fish.”

Marley wrinkles her nose.

“I don’t want a fish. You can’t take them for walks.”

He chuckles.

“And what animal would ya like?”

“An elephant!”

Daryl can’t help it, he frowns at her, head cocked to the side.

“What’s that word Mommy always uses when I get obsessed with somethin'?”

“Fixation.” She laughs, finding the word before her dad does.

Daryl chuckles.

“Ya really got a thin' for elephants, angel.” He leans down to kiss her forehead before leaving, but on his way to the door, her voice stops him again. “Yeah?”

“And how did I get into mommy’s belly?”

Daryl chokes on his own breath: but he would rather face 100 walkers than explain to his daughter how a baby was made.

“What?”

“You said I was in mommy’s belly.” Marley cocks her head, an action she learned from him. “How did I get there?”

“Well…” Daryl frowns in a thoughtful expression, because Merle had told him about it when he was a kid, but in a very grotesque way. “Daddy will try to get ya an elephant, I make no promises, but I'll try, 'kay?”

Marley smiles.

“Okay.”

Daryl can feel the relief as he closes her door, but he knows that sooner or later, she’ll ask again. When he gets to his own room, he can see you standing in front of the window, staring out at the cold world, but at least inside his home, it was always warm. Like a good hunter, Daryl comes to you quietly, wrapping you in his arms, his face hidden in your neck, his warm breath tickling you.

“How did yer parents tell ya how a baby is made?”

You laugh.

“What?”

“Marley asked me how she got into mommy’s belly.” Daryl lifts his head, meeting your amused gaze. “Merle told me when I was 6, and I ain't repeating the words he used to ma daughter.”

You shrug, agreeing with him.

“I met him, so I can imagine his words. I was never told that babies are delivered by the stork or anything like that. But, we already talked to Marley about calling her private parts by their names, so we can start there.”

Daryl growls.

“I’ll be there but, could ya do it? I ain't ready to teach ma baby how to make a baby.”

You laugh.

“Fine, I’ll do the talking. Although now that I think about it, my brother once told me that he was explained it when my mom was pregnant with me, so it was easier for them and him.” When you look back at him, Daryl is looking at you with an amused smile, the one he used before asking you if you wanted to make love. “I’m not saying we have another baby! So keep your hands off me.” You pull away from him a little, looking at him with a serious expression. “Before you say it, no. No, no, no, and definitely not. And if that wasn't clear to you, hell no.”

Daryl shoves his hands into his pants pockets, smiling like a child.

“I jus' think maybe it’s the right time to give Marley a little brother or sister.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah? Are you planning on giving birth to that baby?” You ask, but when he shakes his head, you narrow your eyes. “Then think twice, Dixon. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go to sleep. And if you dare lay a finger on me, I’m going to bite it. I’m not kidding.”

The moment you turn your back at him, however, Daryl has you in his arms, kissing the arch of your neck before you can ask him to let you go.

[lichpoweredbyfandoms]

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE END OF ARCANE SEASON 2

So uh…. the end of Arcane tore my heart out and shattered it into a million pieces. I may have blacked out and written a short, post-canon fic of Vi mourning for Jinx. Fic under the cut, or you can read it on ao3 here:

The dust from the war on Piltover had settled. Fires were extinguished, and bodies were buried. A worn hopefulness had spread over the city, broken bones held perfectly still with the slim chance they might mend. Everyone had lost something, and now only the question of what came next remained.

It was late at night, but Vi couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t been able to rest for more than a few hours at a time in the past few days. Most nights, she laid in bed besides Caitlyn, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, clinging to the reassurance that at least one person she loved was still here.

Silent feet hit carpet as Vi slipped out of bed. She let herself wander the Kiramman estate in silence. A ghost echoing through the hallway, haunted by the weight of all she’d lost.

At some point she found herself in the garden. The moonlight illuminated the array of flowers and trees that surrounded a marble water fountain. Vi settled herself at its edge, staring into the water. It shimmered blue, like the hextech crystals her sister had loved. Gentle ripples fanned out from its center with soft splashes, a mimicry of Jinx’s hair, loose and wild as it had been in the cell.

You’re never going to give up on me, are you? Another broken promise, another betrayal, another failure. It wasn’t fair. Vi had only ever asked for one thing. For her little sister to be safe right beside her. She wanted to cry and scream and throw things and rage against the entire fucking world until there was nothing left but ashes, because what was even the point if her sister wasn't-

“Vi?” A soft voice broke her from her thoughts. Caitlyn crouched down next to her, wearing a blue robe and a concerned expression. “Are you alright?”

Vi looked away. “I just needed to think.”

“You miss your sister, don’t you?” she asked as she sat beside Vi.

“She can’t just be gone, Cait.” Her voice cracked around the plea. “Not after all this.”

“What happened to her… I know it was unfair,” Caitlyn said softly, “but you can’t blame yourself. Jinx made her choice.”

“Well she chose wrong!” Vi snapped.

“Maybe. But it was still her choice. Don’t take that away from her.”

“She never really listened to me,” Vi said with a wet laugh, “not when it really mattered. No one could tell her what to do.”

Caitlyn smiled sadly. “Your sister had so much spirit. So much energy.”

“You don’t have to…” Vi sighed. “She killed your mom. You don’t have to pretend for me.”

“I think we’re all more than our worst actions. Your sister included.” Caitlyn reached down and took her hand. “I only wish I’d had the chance to know the side of her you saw.”

“She was so smart. Even when we were little kids. She was always screwing around with some gadget or other.” Vi shook her head with a fond smile. “It drove Milo crazy sometimes. And she was so… good. I know how that sounds now, with everything she did, but…”

“I understand. I saw how much she loved you, Vi,” Caitlyn murmured.

“She just wanted to help,” Vi said despairingly, “even when everything was falling apart, even after I abandoned her… all she wanted was family. That’s why Silco got to her. That's why she died. Because I failed.”

“You were just a child,” Caitlyn reminded her gently.

“So was she!” Vi’s shouting gave way to sobs. “She was just a kid. And now she- she won’t get the chance to be anything else.”

Caitlyn pulled her into a tight hug, and she collapsed into her girlfriend’s arms. Vi wept bitter tears for her parents, their broken dreams for a better world, for Mylo and Claggor, two street kids who could have been so much more than were allowed to be, for Vander, his undying devotion to them all. She wept for Powder, that earnest little girl, and for Jinx, that wild fighter, and for every person her sister ever had been and would never be. And Vi cried for herself- for a family that had gone up in flames twice, for the miserable years she’d spent alone, for the hope she’d stubbornly hung onto all these years that had plummeted into the abyss with her sister. Vi wept and shook and sobbed, letting out all her anguish, all her pain, until she finally reached a point where she had no tears left inside her. Nothing left to give.

“I’m sorry for making you deal with this,” she whispered into Caitlyn’s chest.

“It’s alright.” Her girlfriend pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve got you. Always.”

[highflyartist]

Why I like/love about Digital Wonderland

Hello!

¡Hola!

Hallo!

Today I got into deep detail on why I like this AU. Here we go!

The Story - So far, based on what it is shown, Digital Wonderland is a mixture of the original and two disney movies combined into a Digital Circus Alternate Universe. The very unique aspects based on the comics are that everything is retold like we're in the modern era (or somewhere near the 90s/2000s) with old televisions, old desktop computer screens, even the clothing choices of the real world match the aesthetic during those eras. It ropes you into the story because a sense of nostalgia is rushing through your heart and that's what happened with me.

The Inclusion - This AU, when I first found out about it, was really eye-catching but soon I found out that it was both for the canon and non-canon. I could add my digital circus oc into the world and that's what tempted me to bring back my OC: Celta. I haven't pulled her out of the shelves in a year but I had the chance to revive her and give her a well needed backstory. Along with everyone else's OCs, I love the fact that we can include our lovely characters into the mad wacky world of wonderland.

The Character Designs - Flawless. Beautiful. Stunning. Wonderful! The designs for each of the characters are really beautiful! Even for all the Wonderland inhabitants created by other artists, they all have wonderful designs to them! (Ex. Smiley from @yunfox00 and Toyger Lily from @laurenashleysparks ) Each design is unique in it's own aspect and I can't help but stare at Pomni's cute little dress, IT'S ADORABLE!

The memories and inspiration - This AU blasted me back to the past when I was a little child, watching Alice In Wonderland on VHS. I smiled happily as I watched Alice go on her cute adventures and now I smile happily as I read through Pomni's Adventures in this digital Wonderland. This AU also inspired me to go through with my plan of rebooting my Alice Adaptation that I haven't done in almost a whole year.

This AU is honestly the most amazing thing that has ever existed and I can't wait to see what this story will show more of in the future.

Thank you Endo for making such a beautiful AU that we can all join, laugh and smile as we all fall down the digital rabbit hole into Digital Wonderland. ✨⌚

If I may ask… and if it sounds selfish to ask then apologies 😅

But I want to grow this au’s story more and more for you guys and genuinely interested in seeing how I can make this au a bit more interesting and entertaining for yall.

So let me ask you this..

What do you like about Digital wonderland?

And what intrigues you and how can I make this engaging for you all?

[say-hi-intrepid-heroes]

"Go get it, dog!"

[spacedlexi]

it honestly frustrates me when i see people reduce the ericsons cast down to "just some teens in the woods" acting like theyre no different than any other group of lone teenagers from other existing properties and treating them like an overused trope

it is sooo important to acknowledge the "troubled youth" aspect of the whole equation. theyre not just some random teens in the woods clem stumbles across. these kids were abandoned by their families for their various "difficulties" and fucked up by The System before the outbreak even began. and then once zombies started roaming the streets their familes never came back for them and the adults that were in charge of taking care of them just left them there to rot in that old boarding school (except for ms martin who was like their lee 🥺 the only person who ever saw them as the scared traumatized kids they were and died protecting them)

the whole aspect of them already being fucked up by the adults that controlled their lives is like.....kind of important when discussing the whole "delta is stealing kids to force them to fight in a war they have no real part in and want nothing to do with" aspect of the season. and its important when comparing them to clem and her journey of also suffering at the hands of the adults around her forcing her to become self reliant. AND its important when discussing the "just trying to build a safe home (and future) worth fighting for in this world that wants them dead" aspect of the season as well

these kids were forced to come together to survive. and a Lot of them didnt... theyre the only family they have left and you can tell that even when they argue with each other theyre still a close knit group who looks out for each other. theyre a Real family before clem even gets there (and its why what really happened with the twins and brody and marlon hits them all so especially hard)

all of this is what REALLY makes ericsons such a perfect home for clem. its a Real community of her True peers. theyre not Just teens. they mightve had a layer of safety clem never had by at least having walls to keep them safe. and having the benefit of the school being hard to find. its the only reason theyre still alive when clem shows up. but theyre also some of the only people who can Truly understand where clem and aj are coming from. and its why it hurts so much when they vote to kick them out. but its also partially why she merges back into the fold so easily when she returns. plus the fact that shes Really the only one who has any idea what shes doing. shes their rock and she makes them feel safe because underneath it all theyre still just those scared traumatized kids ("EVERYONE is scared, clem..." vi was Definitely including herself in that 'everyone'), and on some level, so is clem

they saved clementines life. and she saved theirs. "the school was supposed to help them with their trauma, now they help each other" its about the LOVE the COMMUNITY the SUPPORT!!!! and thats the shit that makes good zombie media honestly 👌

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[anthonyhavers-left-foot]

Some bird pictures that AREN'T low quality this time!