#if they were two insane lesbians
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my wifs is exiting denial, she sent me a tiktok about bottoming and was like "bunny corcoran" which is polically correct of her.
#she is in MAJOR DENIAL we are the same person#bc she and francis also are#so#that is WEIRD#but ive told her very curtly um maam you think francis and bunny WOULDNT fuck#if they were two insane lesbians#like are you kidding me we are them and its canonical
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goddd the trope of “we could always rely on each other and you were the person i trusted most in the world but then you chose someone else over me and our relationship has never been the same” always hits me so hard, but ESPECIALLY when there are queer undertones to relationship one but then heteronormativity wins out. like god it’s such a sucker punch. so many queer people have experienced that really close same sex relationship where you thought you were going to be with that person together, even if you didn’t even realize it was romantic at the time, but then they became interested in the opposite sex and everything changed.
#this is NOT an attack on bisexuality btw#bi people in m/f relationships are valid and please bring your straight bfs to pride and educate them#this goes for straight gfs as well but well. the debate wasn’t about them#anyway i hope my fifth grade best friend is doing well in her sorority#we were supposed to get married to a pair of best friends and buy houses next to each other and raise our kids as bffs#sometimes things don’t go according to plan#the two ships that inspired this post are insane actually dw about it#colindeli#shory#dimension 20#d20#the ravening war#colin provolone#thane delissandro katzon#deli katzon#come on provolone#cory matthews#shawn hunter#boy meets world#bmw#gmw#girl meets world#rilaya#also works#riley matthews#maya hart#writing#queer#gay#lesbian
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Wyll breaking up with the player character if Ulder dies so Wyll must become the Duke makes me wanna throw up sobbing because he actually thinks that just because his father's first duty being to Baldur's Gate made him a Bad Father that Wyll himself will inevitably be a Bad Lover because surely no one could match love with duty if his father couldn't, unknowing he has more love in one hand than his father had in his entire body. fuck
#More in my reblog#“my father taught me more lessons than I can count” yeah dog they were called CAUTIONARY TALES 😭😭😭#“pull me too close and I'm destined to hurt you” FUCKIGN. BITING YOU#“a champion's heart is as sharp as a new blade” SO CRAZY I GOT THIS SICK ASS ARMOUR. TRY ME.#I'm actually in physical pain over this. Wyll my love.#I need to rip ulder in two with my bare hands right now.#sorry I JUST saw the breakup scene for the first time today and I haven't stopped thinking about it it's making me ill with sadness#he didn't even break up with ME but it fucking feels like it goddamn#bg3#Wyll Ravengard#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 analysis#oh my GOD and the fact that he offers one last dance. I'mgoing to ufckingexplode#and he spends five whole seconds just. holding the character. not even dancing.#I watched the version with him and astarion ofc I don't romance wyll myself (lesbianism)#makes me wanna write a fucking fic (derogatory)#why the fuck is everyone so ill over astarion when mr insane mental health issues is RIGHT here (i know why. but still)
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We love a gay cowboy with the prettiest smile 🐎🖤
#he’s the cutest#I can still hear the guttural screams when he came on stage legitimately was insane like I pictured people fainting like he was Elvis#like even throughout I was lowkey worried for this drunk girl nearby screaming lol#felt so safe in there was all cute gay boys and lesbians and women in general#he sounds so good live he’s a GEM#can’t ever tell from pics but I got some good seats love that venue so#so glad Aurora is going there in dec and we were close for him it’s two rows up for her#one thing about me is I love to SIT down and be close the standing for three hours 734 miles away days are done#so excited to see her again too she’s fucking unreal#lovely venue#lovely boy#I got a vid of him pointing at me as he sang call me anytime during come on baby cry and like I get it#yeehaw#orville peck
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if queerbait is running towards a cake in a forest and falling through a trapdoor then the house md writers were taking handfuls of that cake and throwing it bit by bit down into the hole for us
#and hugh laurie was sending us down a hot chocolate a day#but yeah#liz friedman sara hess and doris egan especially#first two are lesbians they weren’t queerbaiting they were campaigning#and doris made hilson what it is their relationship would be nowhere near as insane without her#there were also many others who were definitely in on it#just all sneaking around behind david shore’s back#house md is not queerbaiting it’s just a secret#straight people are just blind#house md#hilson#+
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I'm only three seasons into d20 but i think my favorite thing about brennan is that whenever he creates a male npc to interact with an otherwise straight male character he WILL find a way to make the npc gay for that character. not even in a subtle way either
#zac's character in fantasy high had kisses two dudes (and a lesbian) before he kissed his love interest#and who can forget murph's spicy pigeon#he didn't get to do that in bloodkeep bc all the player characters were already insanely bisexual#kissed*
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oh so everyone is lying about the movie d.e.b.s. huh. Its not bad in a good way. its not camp. its just annoying.
#its like the craft. watching the gifs on tumblr you'd think the insane goth girl is the main character#only for the majority of the film to focus on some girl you've literally never noticed who disappears in the posters from lack of charisma#the two lesbians were BORING. i thought all 4 of them were equally gay#turns out only the bland one is. french cigarette smoking devon aoki is worth seeing but#she barely has any lines#spud the evil lesbian's straight male best friend is the most entertaining & likeable character in the movie after devon aoki which is an L#for all lesbians and this movie in particular#& the female straight best friend has the only iconic line in this movie#“everyone thinks you're a hero when you're actually a slut. a gay slut”#movie sucked im sorry#also those two lesbians were so insanely weird looking. this is what lipstick lesbian means#not femme (which devon aoki is actually serving effortlessly in this film) but straight looking in a really uncomfortable way#beauty rituals femmes don't engage in like powdered bronzer contour#& straightened layer haircuts. & those weird ugly 2000s tshirts#hyperfeminine in an oddly sexless way which is like the opposite of femme#hated it. i wanted to see devon aoki make out with a woman#& the old lady director. they shouldve been killing each other for that older woman pussy but no#turns out shes just the defacto homophobic villain. ugh.
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im actually so sad i was too scared to even try to write fics when i was in dngnrnp fandom because the amount of kaede/maki lesbian sex i would've produced would be insane and I've would've done a great service for like 4 and a half people who shipped them
#dont even remember why i limed them so much#but like i was INSANE i was DELUSIONAL about them#also sonya/chiaki and celeste/kiri#i was so crazy about wlw rarepairs where they interacted for like two seconds max and usually were subjected to the token lesbians syndrom#not for me tho i was psychoanalysing and rotating them in my head 24/7#the yuri community really missed out on me damn those teenage insecurities and symptoms
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i would kill for a cup of this right now
#gu6chan's musings#yes before you ask i did stroll over to the rewe website and gazed longingly at this picture for like 5 minutes before posting#why is duck so goddamn expensive in the united states#ITS SO GOOD..... like i could pop over to the local chinese takeout and get a wholleeeee box of fried noodles; spring onions; carrots and#peas with HUGE servings of duck for like five euros and like two months after i came back to the us i distinctly remember asking if there#were any duck instant noodles at the walmart bc i could only find chicken beef and shrimp and they looked at me like i was INSANE#this used to be what i took to work everyday..... here its holiday food. im going to throw up#i wanna go back home... i wanna eat food that doesn't feel like gouging my eyes out... i want to put curry gewürst ketchup on everything...#i want currywurst in general tbh. maybe it's just the midwest since people KNOW what it is but curry is just a nonexistent concept here lma#but OUGHHHHH I WANT DUCK TO BE A NORMAL FOOD ITEM AGAIN... I WANT PAPARIKA CHIPS AND POM-BÄRRRRRR....#and mezzo mix.....#i want to taste the yoghurt ice cream i had in rinteln again..... idk why but it was rlly good there in particular lmao#i wanna go back to my cozy little flat and walk through fields and forests and trails and at evening count the number of slugs as big as my#foot.... uuuu....#does anyone wanna adopt a 27 y/o lesbian to take back to germany with them ive been told im pretty funny and can make a sick paper crane#sometimes i unironically wonder if the reason i havent been motivated to do anything at all lately isn't bc of the results of ppl not reall#showing interest in my work till its out but literally just living in the US. im happy to see my sister again and take care of her and i#dont WANT to say 'i wonder if it was even worth it' to leave for her but i dont know how much longer i can do thissss
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having a friend who is the mirror version of you personality wise but he's a conventionally attractive man is so insane
#two people thought we were a couple yesterday and he was like. no wait. she's clearly a lesbian what is wrong with you#anyway it's so insane bc he'll say deranged things and instead of getting weird looks people ask for his number#🐌
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the thing about team 69 is that griddlehark is about exactly as insane as you'd expect given their circumstances, which only serves to make cam and pal even funnier. they don't have any fucking excuse, they had an entire society around them, why are they that bad? why is their closest parallel for unhinged devotion and codependency the two repressed teenage lesbians who were the only children on their entire fucking planet? like team 69 works because each pair looked at the other and very incorrectly went "finally, some normal fucking people" but cam and pal did that to themselves on purpose where gideon and harrow were basically forced into that absolute disaster of a situationship. it's great
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Make You
Billie Eilish x female reader !
A/n: first fic for my lil kinktober ... tanntober? No that's stupid everyone else's sounds cute mine sounds busted 🥰 anyways PLEASE ENJOY 😈
Summary: you hated eachother.. so it seemed.
Warnings: smut, hate sex ?, bondage, rough Billie, fingering.
Masterlist - Halloween ML
I hate you...
Yeah. Turns me on
You were really good friends with Finneas and Claudia. So you were around quite a bit. And tonight was another small party at theirs, they'd often have a tiny one with the friend group plus some others. So you ofcourse knew Billie. Did you two get along? Nope, and here's why.
For some reason when you first became friends with them Billie was iffy about you. You had become friends with Claudia first, then Finneas. And suddenly you were around all the time. You were always so kind with everyone, and it seemed to bother her. She actually had no idea why she didn't like you she just didn't. Then you'd get brought up by one of them, and that started to bug her.
She was working with Finneas on some music, they were taking a break. "Y/n took this cute photo of peaches last night! She's actually good at photography-" Billies eyes roll. "Can we get back to this, please?" He stares at her. "What's your problem with her, shes so kind to you and lately you've been rude even to her face. Like fine do what you want or say what you want to me, but the poor girls done absolutely nothing to you." - "Yeah well she bugs me. How did you even meet her she kinda just spawned." He sets the mic he had in hand, down.
"Claudia was taking a pilates class and Y/n happened to be there and they got talking. Found out she lived quite close by, got to know her better and she was really sweet." Billie was getting tired of hearing about you. "We don't know what her intentions are." "Billie." She just shrugs. "What! She could be after you or something, she was getting cozy with you the other day I saw. Maybe she's going to break you and Claudia up!" Finneas looks at her like she's insane. "You really need to get to know her better. She's most definitely not after me." Her brows furrow. "And how do you know that?"
"Shes gay Billie, full blown lesbian. If anything she'd be interested in Claudia, but she isn't because she's just a decent human being, something you're kinda lacking at the moment." Maybe she was being quite over the top. She still hated you. But she might of been starting to realize why. Especially when she heard you were into girls. There was no doubt you were beautiful, too beautiful for words. When Billie was giving you dirty looks all the time she actually wasn't, in her mind she was thinking how effortlessly pretty you were. Maybe those things bugged her more so than the reason she claims to hate you for. Maybe she actually liked you but used the hatred method to get over it.
Regardless she still 'hated' you. And tonight you couldn't take it anymore. You had arrived early as usual, carrying a bag of supplies. "You didn't have to do that!" Claudia smiles at the girl. "Ofcourse i did! You know how much I love helping out." - "Ugh you're an angel." She says, helping you bring it in. Billie was there too and she couldn't help rolling her eyes, you being some perfect angel, she didn't believe it still. Even if the true reason was right infront of her. You on the other hand, had really liked Billie at first. She was gorgeous, she was talented and you admired her deeply.
That was until you found out she hated you, you kinda picked up on it with the looks and the snide comments. You tried to ignore it, saying that maybe she's just going through something. But that's just who you were, you'd always give people the benefit of the doubt. But you were strong you could handle people who mocked and criticized you when you had to. You stood up for yourself. And you sure as hell did tonight.
People started coming in the small house, crowding it ever so slightly. You had a drink in hand talking with some mutual friends you had made in the past year of knowing Finn and Claud. But you felt eyes on you. Not admiring ones, deadly ones. You turn to see it was ofcourse Billie. You wanted to ignore it but the drink was telling you to do the exact opposite. You excuse yourself from the conversation you were currently in and approach her on the couch. You never really talked to her, nor tried to. You got the impression it was pointless.
"Can we talk?" You ask so sweetly, you never had any bad intentions. But oh God she just wanted to rip that soft voice out of you. On the other hand she was a little shocked you'd even speak to her, she reluctantly said sure. Very nonchalantly, shrugging at the same time. She gets up and follows you to a quieter area. "Have I done something?" You finally ask, after months of knowing her, after months of her being crude. Yet another shrug. This wasn't going to be easy at all. "Well it sure seems as if I have, can I fix it?"
All you wanted was to be friends with people, never enemies. "Why are you so hell bent on making things perfect all the time." She finally snaps. "Billie-" "I swear you come in this house being all 'look at me I'm wonderful' When i doubt that's truly the case." You stare at her in disbelief. Finn had told you about Billie being off about you. But you never realized just how much. You swallow, unable to process her harsh words. "Well. If that's how you feel." She soon after nods. "Yup." You just scoff slightly. "Wow. Glad to know where I stand with you." Your feet go to move, when you then hear her speak.
"Hopefully really far away." The response was cold. You could feel your throat tightening, and honestly wanting to cry. But you weren't going to give her that satisfaction. "You're a bitch." You breathe out. "Right back at you." All you could think of was getting the hell out of there. You brush past people, Finneas being one of them. "Woah woah- where are you going?" His bewildered look made you sigh. "Ask your sister." You speak bluntly. Leaving after that. His brows furrow, on his way looking for her. Once he finds her he strides over. "What the fuck Billie." Eyes roll. Again.
"Oh what, did she come crying to you like a God damn baby? She came to me, I didn't start it." His head lowers, shaking it. "Jesus Billie, no she didn't come crying to me, she whooshed past heading for the door, she most definitely looked upset though. Why? Why have you got such a hatred for her for fuck sakes?" She just looks at her brother. "I dunno." He laughs slightly. "I do." Her brow raises, the left one. "Enlighten me." "You like her, but you can never deal with your feelings properly so you're pushing her away before you can fall too deep for her." Silence.
He knew her better than she knew herself, but it was true. The first time she ever did see you. Her heart was melting but she had to stop it. Maybe because of situations in the past, but she was too far into the hatred. She was genuinely believing she hated you. Even though it was a lie. "Whatever, I don't care. She started it." "No. You did, this would've never even happened if you hadn't grown this disliking bull shit. It's stupid." That was the last thing said before he leaves, Billie standing there not knowing what to do.
Nothing changed. Not even after Finneas scolded her. If anything the hatred grew, larger, causing you to hate her in the process. It was silly, but it happened. It was yet again another party, Claudia's brand had a new big release, so they were throwing a bit of a celebration. She had a small one two days ago, but decided a more boozey one would be fun. And it was at first, you were enjoying yourself. Dancing with a mutual friend, this one girl you had grown to like, Ava. A closer friend of Claudia's. She was always so bubbly and out there you loved it. Music was blasting, crowds of people. More so than the usual parties they'd throw.
A few drinks down and all you wanted to do was dance, Ava seemed to be on the same page, extending her hand out for you to grab. "Dance?" You smiled. "I thought you'd never ask!" You say loud enough over the booming music. Huge smiles were on both of your faces, but you couldn't help feeling the opposite shooting daggers into the back of your head. You sensed something. So instinctively you turn around, seeing none other than Billie. This time your eyes roll. You were so incredibly sick of her childishness. It was getting pathetic.
Your attention is soon back on Ava as her hands move to your waist, it was flirty. The whole situation. You hadn't realized Billies stare changed considering you weren't paying her any mind. It progressed into jealousy. She didn't ever want to admit that but it was true. That should be her, but she's gone too far. Screwed up too much to the point where you hated her guts. Only because she falsely hated you. It was all her dumbass fault. After a few songs you go upstairs to find the bathroom, stumbling just slightly.
Thankfully if you ever drunk too much they let you crash at theirs. Always. You were like family to them, more so Claudia. Both of your bonds were incredibly close. You come back out, but unpleasantly you met those stupid eyes. Ones that were beautiful, but attached to the person who drove you mental. Potentially in many ways..
"What do you want." - "You into her or something?" You glare at her. "Excuse me?" She presses her weight on her right leg. "Ava, she was getting quite close to you earlier." A scoff was heard from you. "Why on earth do you care. Might I mention all of a sudden, when you normally want to 'stay far away' from me." There was a slight pause, was she thinking of a response. Your eyes roll as you go to brush past her but she grabs your wrist. "Do you like her?" You try to pull. "Leave me alone Billie. Your presence is already pissing me off." She lets out a dry laugh. "Trust me, princess. Yours isn't liked a whole lot either. Don't get a big head." You wanted to scream in her face.
She was so infuriating. And even though that name was meant to be mocking you stupidly liked it. You give her one last glare before you're storming down the stairs. Her feet on your trail. You go to Ava and grab her face. "Kiss me." You say sweetly, mixed with a sultry tone. She smirked slightly. "Say no more." And she did just that, attaching her lips onto your own. Billie saw, vividly. If this was a cartoon, you'd surely see steam piping out of her ears. But why? Why on earth did this bother her so much. For someone who didn't give a fuck about you. She sure did seem to care a fuck ton.
After an hour or so you were going back up to the bathroom, making sure everything's still intact. When your wrist is being grabbed. "He!-" Then a hand was slapped against your mouth. "Zip it." Your eyes meet hers in the mirror, your instincts finally kicking in after the initial confusion. You bite her hand making her retract, pushing her back. "What the fuck is wrong with you. Do tell cuz I'm getting genuinely sick of this shit." She laughs in your face. It was cold and mocking. Just like all the other times before. "You're just a spoilt bitch you know that." Your eyes roll but she grabs your jaw. "You love rolling your eyes huh."
You push her off of you, again. "What? you're the only one who can?" - "Smart mouth." She says.
"Fucking dick." You stare at one another for a second, something shifted in the air. Something different. She slowly backs you up against the sink. No words to be said, just actions. Her eyes going over your face, eyes, cheeks nose. Lips. Your heart picks up at the current moment. The whole situation being odd. Still no words. Her eyes linger on your lips, hands eventually making contact with your hips. What were you giving in to? It felt like you were. This new found tension. Her face was incredibly close to your own. You hated that you liked this, you hated how she has you currently. You felt weak, weaker than you had been.
"I hate you." You seethed, but it was hushed. Unable to focus on forming the right sentences. "Yeah, turns me on." Your breath hitches in your throat, only visible to your mind. Glad she couldn't see how wound up you are getting. You couldn't take the slight tease. You give into everything. Leaning in to kiss her, it was intense, messy. Hot, like lava. Her hands move over your body as you shift in her touch. "Hate you so much." You say on her lips. "Sure you do." You hum. Resuming the kiss, but hers goes to your chin, jaw. Neck. You breathe out. "Hate you.." - "Just shut up." Her teeth sink into your skin, doing just as she had asked. Your mouth shut tight. Eyes doing the same.
When all of a sudden your back hits the bathroom wall. Her hands grip your wrists and shove them above your head, against the cold brick. Your shocked expression makes her laugh. "I hate you too angel, with a burning passion." Her knee presses hard against your clothed cunt, causing your mouth to fall open with a gasp. "God you make me so angry, but look at you. At the same time I just wanna fuck you senseless. This time your eyes would be rolling for a different reason." "Please." Your voice was moany, whiney. All of the above. You needed this and now. She goes to lock the door, slithering her belt out in the process.
It was her HMHAS one, so it was perfect for what she wanted to do. "Everything off." And in a heartbeat her request was fulfilled. She sighs out, making your thighs clench at how hot it sounded. "Even through all the hate I still wanted you deep down." She admitted, making you swoon for this more. "Need you." She smirks at you, how eager you have become. "Yeah? Turn around, wrists together." How could you possibly deny that. Your back faces her as your arms go behind you. She ties that same belt tightly around them, fastening it in the black lock. You were truly trapped. And she was loving it.
"You gotta stay quiet though, can't have anyone know what we are up to can we?" You look at her. "What, wouldn't want people hearing that you don't actually hate me?" Your breath soon gets caught as she grabs the end of the belt, tightening it harder. "Watch it." She not only warns with her voice but her eyes too. You glare at her slightly, eventually feeling her tug you around and sitting you on the sink counter. "Stay quiet. If you don't do exactly as I say I'll leave you here. With nothing." Your eyes fell. Deciding to stop the act and just listen. Her fingers meet your wet pussy making your head fall against the mirror. "Fuck-" You bite your lip, remember what she had said.
"Mmm, close one huh?" You bit hard, nodding slightly. Her fingers slowly make contact with your entrance wasting no time into dipping them in, harshly. She was fucking evil. She wasn't even going to try be nice by taking it slow. Ensuring some noises come out. Your lip starts to bleed and she just laughs. "You stupid girl." You wanted to slap her, and you go to do so but remember. You can't. A tiny groan leaves your throat. "Uh-huh, think again." She says, noticing you struggle in the belt. When she hears you whine, muffled by your teeth sinking into your lip.
Her pace was ungodly, sending your eyes to truly roll back. "That's it, take them like the greedy bitch you are." You retreat your teeth from its former position. "Mm, fuck you." You mindlessly say. "Oh baby, don't say things you know you can't handle." You gave up, gave up with trying to outsmart her in any way. "Billie please, just fucking ruin me." Your request had her shocked slightly. "Don't underestimate me baby." - "I plan to."
Her fingers swiftly move out of you, earning a moan at the feeling and stretch. Her Jeans hit the floor, making you look infront at the fake dick. She looked so good, staring down at you with such lust. Enjoying the fact she was way taller than you now, your form sinking into the counter. Your body slumped. Anticipating what was about to come. Preferably you. The tip of the cock touches your weeping hole, making your mind race. You didn't care anymore you needed this more than anything. "Please put it in, please Billie-" And she does. Deep. Taking things on the faster side, fucking you absolutely filthy. Your head leans back again as it hits deeper. "Shit." You mutter softly. When you heard knocking. "Everything alright in there." Your eyes widen as you hear Avas voice.
She didn't know you were in there, but Billie needed her to. She had to show what was now hers. No one else was in here fucking your brains out, it was her. Just her. So she thrusts deeper than she had that night, hitting your g-spot causing you to let out a breathy moan. Bingo. "Yep! Just had a drunken lil accident and got hurt but it's all ok." Billie then replies. What a fucking liar, a good one because Ava seemed to believe it mainly. But Billie didn't stop, not one bit. "You're so annoying." You moan again. "Am I really? I'm just so annoying, isn't it so annoying that I'm fucking you so good. Your eyes are getting a good view of the back of your head. Yeah, how annoying."
Your eyes begin to shut, but her hand fixes on your jaw, holding tight. "Still hate me huh?" "Mhmmm." You say with your teeth back on your lip. "Mm, those noises tell me otherwise." She gets the perfect angle, hitting that blissful spot deep inside you. "Billie-" You gasp. "Go on, cum all over it. Gush all your hate on my dick baby." That alone sent you insane, your back arching as her thrusts continue. "Fuckfuckfuck." You chant as you felt it coming. Your orgasm has you shaking, has her satisfied. She was in awe seeing you like this.
"Still hate me, princess?"
#billie eilish#billie#billie elish moodboard#billie eilish fanfiction#billie ellish lyrics#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish smut#billie eilish x you#billie eilish x reader smut#billie eilish x y/n#kinktober
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30 for 30 (i.) — vi (league of legends) !
⟢ synopsis. you swear you would be in peace if it wasn’t for her. but this kept you on your toes, you guessed. just the way you liked it. besides, everyone knew that falling in love with your best friend’s older sister only led to trouble.
⟢ contains. afab!reader, arcane!vi, feminine characteristics, angst, lesbians, lots and lots of longing, the reader is lowkey insane i cannot lie, vi is kinda toxic but we love her anyway, modern!au, nsfw, fingering, oral, really bad ending sorry, SMUT 18+.
⟢ word count. 17k+
⟢ part two: 30 for 30 (ii.)
⟢ authors note. i have been working on this for the last 6 weeks and i have lived so many lives through this fic. christmas passed, then new years, and then my abuelo died a few days ago. no one talk to me for a while, please.
You were totally, utterly smitten.
Every curve, cave, and mark of your heart was tainted, etched with her name in invisible ink only you could read. It felt like liquid gold ran through your veins, molten and alive, heating your body from the inside out. The rush of it coursed through you, fingers buzzing with static, your chest tightening as if you were holding your breath for years without ever exhaling.
Your vision blurred, a tunnel of light where every refraction became an iridescent heart, glowing faintly in the distance. And yet, over it all, denial bubbled and crackled in your mind like a sputtering fuse. You told yourself it wasn’t real—just a trick of adolescence, a fleeting desire, the way your brain played with shadows and feelings to make you feel like this.
It wasn’t unusual, you reasoned. Lots of people thought their best friend’s older sibling was cool. Admiration was natural, harmless even. Powder sure loved to tease you about it.
And maybe, when you were younger, the way your chest fluttered when Violet smiled was just a childish crush, the kind you’d laugh about later.
But you didn’t laugh.
Because the years kept moving, and the feeling never left. It dug in, shifting from an innocent admiration to something heavier, harder to ignore. It was a slow burn—each year adding fuel to a fire you couldn’t destroy. Every glance she threw your way, every offhand comment that lingered in your mind like a melody you couldn’t stop humming, every time she showed up for Powder with that effortless swagger, the heat in your chest built.
She wasn’t just cool. She was intoxicating. Destructive. The kind of person who drew people in and broke them apart without meaning to, leaving them scrambling to put themselves back together again. And you were no exception.
You told yourself it was a passing phase, a silly infatuation that would fade as you got older. But it didn’t. Instead, it grew roots, wrapping itself between your ribs, tightening its grip with every stolen moment, breaking the bone until it seized your heart too.
She became a constant—there, just out of reach.
But then, there was a glance that lingered too long. And another. And then another. Shy gazes turned knowing, wanting. Kind smiles started to curve on themselves, smirking, teasing.
Then her hand brushed yours one night, deliberate, the press of her fingers against your wrist sending a jolt through your body.
“You okay?” she asked, her voice low, the kind that made you feel like the world had narrowed to just the two of you.
You weren’t.
How could you be when her breath was warm against your neck, her hands mapping every inch of your skin with an urgency that left you breathless? Her touch was fire, consuming you, leaving marks you swore she’d never see. She kissed you like she was trying to memorize you, her lips and teeth and tongue tracing the parts of you that ached for her.
The nights that followed were stolen—whispers exchanged in the dark, her body tangled with yours beneath sheets that smelled of her and regret. She’d show up unexpectedly, her knuckles rapping softly against your window, her grin equal parts cocky and sheepish when you let her in.
���We shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered once over the pounding of your heart.
But she just kissed you in response, her hands holding your face, her touch rough but reverent.
It was reckless, a secret you both held tightly, but it felt like falling—wild and thrilling like nothing else mattered.
Until it ended.
You should have seen it coming. The signs were there, subtle but unmistakable, like the way her touches lingered less, her smiles carried an unfamiliar edge of hesitation, or how she started showing up later and leaving earlier.
She pulled away first. Her body still sought yours in the dark, her kisses still burned against your skin—but something else tugged her away. The linkage you’ve made, fragile and unspoken, began to crack under the weight of what neither of you could say.
And then, one night, it just stopped.
There was no confrontation, no goodbye. Just a shitty note, scrawled in her rushed handwriting. An apology that didn’t explain anything and only left you with more questions than answers.
Sorry, can’t keep doing this. Take care.
That was it.
What the fuck? Who fucking does that?
You used to think you knew Vi, considering the two of you have known each other for years but for fucks sake. A fucking note?
You were left hollow, raw, trying to patch yourself together while carrying the weight of what you’d lost. The ache wasn’t sharp or explosive; it was slow and steady, a dull throb that settled in your chest and refused to leave. Like an old injury, it reminded you of her every time you tried to move on.
And then there was Powder.
The one thing both of you could agree on is that Powder could not know.
You couldn’t look at her without guilt sinking its claws deeper into you. Every laugh felt tinged with the shadow of what you were hiding from her. You’d never wanted to hurt her, not Powder—your other half, your best friend. But now, even sitting in the same room as her felt suffocating. She didn’t know why you pulled away, why you avoided talking about her sister, but she noticed. You saw it in her eyes, the way they clouded with quiet confusion and hurt.
Shit. You fucked up. Really bad.
You tried to fix it, pouring yourself into your friendship with Powder to make up for what you’d broken. But the cracks were there, widening with every forced laugh, every moment her gaze lingered too long, silently asking you what was wrong.
Did this make you a bad friend?
You told yourself it didn’t, that you were doing the right thing by keeping the secret buried until the day you died. But Violet was everywhere.
She was in every corner of that house, in every fucking memory. Her laughter echoed in your mind when the silence stretched too long, and her absence hung heavy in the air, turning a place that should have been safe into something haunted.
Now, the crunch of snow beneath your boots was deafening in the stillness of the night. Your breath hung in the air, visible and fleeting, mingling with the sharp scent of winter. The cold was unrelenting, biting through the thick layers of your coat and scarf, nipping at your cheeks and fingertips despite your gloves.
Ekko stood beside you, adjusting the knit hat pulled low over his ears. He shifted from foot to foot, his warm brown coat dusted with snowflakes that clung stubbornly to the fabric. His scarf was wrapped snugly around his neck, and his expression was relaxed, a stark contrast to the tightness in your chest.
You tugged at the sleeves of your coat, pulling them further over your hands as if that could keep the cold—and your nerves—at bay.
The house before you looked like something out of a holiday postcard. Twinkling Christmas lights lined the rooftop, casting a golden glow over the snow-laden yard. Frost framed the windows, and a simple wreath adorned the weathered front door, its red bow vibrant against the muted greens. The faint aroma of pine and cinnamon drifted from inside, wrapping around you like a bittersweet memory.
You stared at the door, every second stretching longer than it should. Standing here again, in this place so familiar yet painfully different, you wondered if coming back was a mistake.
Ekko nudged you gently with his elbow. “You good?” His voice was soft, a puff of mist forming with each word.
You nodded, though the knot in your stomach said otherwise. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Just... cold.”
Before either of you could knock, the door swung open.
Vi stood there, her presence commanding even in the soft glow of the porch light. Her once-vibrant pink hair had grown longer, the colour almost red at the ends, with dark roots framing her face in uneven strands that still carried that effortless charm. She wore a sweater and a jacket that stretched over her broad shoulders and dark jeans tucked into worn combat boots.
Her gaze landed on you, and for a moment, something flickered there—recognition, maybe even surprise—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Her lips curved into a faint smile, but it wasn’t warm. If anything, it felt like a placeholder for something she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say.
“Oh,” she said after a beat, her voice carrying an edge of surprise but little warmth. “Hey, guys. You’re early. Like, two days early.”
“We’re staying for the night,” Ekko said, brushing snow off his coat. “I thought Vander told you. He and Powder invited us.”
Vi blinked, her expression shifting almost imperceptibly as her jaw tightened. Her eyes flickered toward you—briefly, like looking too long might hurt—before she stepped aside.
“Oh,” she murmured, her voice quieter this time. “Right. Yeah. I was just heading out... but, uh, come in.”
The warmth of the house hit you immediately as you stepped through the door, but it barely thawed the chill lingering in your chest. The soft creak of the wooden floor welcomed you back like an old friend, though the once-chaotic energy of the home was subdued. The living room was tidier than you remembered, with carefully placed holiday decorations that hinted at some change within the walls.
Ekko stomped his boots on the mat and shrugged off his coat, but you hesitated, taking in the quiet. The faint murmur of laughter from upstairs made you smile, though your focus was pulled back to the sound of the door clicking shut behind you.
Vi lingered in the entryway, her frame silhouetted against the soft glow of Christmas lights spilling through the frosted windows. She looked different—older, sharper. Her pink hair was darker now at the roots, the faded strands falling over her face in a way that made her seem distant, untouchable. She shifted her weight, the leather of her jacket creaking softly, and the tension in her shoulders was noticeable.
Before either of you could say anything, a blur of blue came bounding down the stairs.
“ Finally! ” Powder’s voice carried through the room as she launched herself at you, arms tight around your shoulders. Your bags hit the floor with a dull thud as you caught her, laughing despite the ache in your chest.
She hadn’t changed much. Though her hair was shorter now, spiked at odd angles and choppy. Her hair was shorter now, spiked at odd angles, and choppy in a way that screamed ’last-minute experiment.’ You remembered her midnight call a few days ago, her voice buzzing with nerves and excitement over the impulsive haircut.
You hugged her back with the same force and you could feel the warmth of her cheek against yours. There was something undeniably comforting about being near her again.
When you pulled back, your gaze drifted to her hair, and you reached out instinctively, teasingly tugging at one jagged edge. “It looks worse in person,” you said with a smirk. “I thought you said Silco would fix it for you?”
Powder rolled her eyes dramatically, though her grin stayed firmly in place. “Jesus Christ, I just got home a few hours ago. Cut me some slack.”
“I’ve missed you,” you said, your voice softening as you leaned back to really look at her.
“Missed you more,” she shot back instantly, her arms still lingering on your shoulders like she was afraid to let go. “God, it’s been way too long.”
“Not that long,” Mylo called from the end of the stairs, “We literally saw each other at Thanksgiving.”
Powder’s head snapped around, glaring. “Fuck off, Mylo.”
“Just saying,” he muttered, disappearing into the kitchen with a shrug.
Powder turned back to you with a huff but couldn’t suppress the laugh bubbling up. “What an asshole. I swear he hasn’t grown up a day.” She pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before bounding toward Ekko, who barely had time to react before she threw herself into his arms.
Ekko froze for a split second, his hands hovering awkwardly before resting on her waist. You stifled a grin as she leaned up to kiss him lightly on the lips. His ears turned crimson against his dark skin, and the sight almost made you laugh, but you held it in. Powder, of course, acted like nothing had happened, grabbing his bags and darting further into the house.
“Vander and Silco aren’t home yet,” she called over her shoulder, barely breaking stride. “They’re doing last-minute shopping with Claggor and Isha.”
You and Ekko exchanged a glance—his flustered expression made you grin wider—and then he followed her further inside.
You reached for your bag, your attention wandering as your eyes traced the wallpaper. It was new—bright and floral—but seemed oddly out of place against the worn, scuffed floors and familiar marked walls. Your fingers brushed at the strap absently, your mind still half-caught on the contrast between the house's old and new pieces.
A warm touch startled you.
Your hand stilled as you glanced down, finding Vi’s fingers barely brushing the strap of your bag. She froze too, her hand hovering awkwardly next to yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, the shared hesitation thick in the air between you.
“I just…” Vi’s voice broke the silence, softer than you’d expected. “In case you needed help,” she added, her tone careful. Without waiting for an answer, she slid the strap off the floor and into her hand. The weight didn’t faze her—of course it didn’t.
She stepped back immediately, her hands dropping to her sides. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t argue. For a second, it seemed like she might say something more, but the moment passed.
You waited—just a beat longer than you should have—but when she didn’t speak, you turned toward the stairs. Each step thudded softly beneath you, the weight of her silence trailing after you like an unwelcome shadow.
The grooves in the banister felt familiar under your fingertips, grounding you as you looked back. Vi hadn’t moved. Her hands were shoved into the pockets of her jacket, her shoulders hunched forward as though she was trying to shrink in on herself. Her jaw worked tight, and her gaze was fixed on the floor, unyielding.
Something about the set of her shoulders tugged at your stomach, twisting it into an uneasy knot. But before you could decide whether to say something, she turned on her heel and slipped out the front door, letting it click softly shut behind her.
The ache in your chest lingered as you moved down the hall toward Powder’s room. Slipping in through the open door felt like stepping into a memory.
Nothing had changed.
The posters on the walls curled at the edges, faded from sunlight and time, but they were the same ones Powder had painstakingly arranged in high school. Her desk was a familiar mess of old art supplies, dried-up bottles of nail polish, and a tangle of wires from unfinished projects. A precarious stack of sketchbooks leaned against the desk lamp, and the familiar scent of vanilla candles mingled with something faintly chemical.
You smiled softly, running your fingers along the edge of her desk. It was comforting, in a way, to see how untouched it all felt, as though the past few years had been frozen in this space.
“What's the mattress for?” Ekko dropped his bag onto the floor with a loud thud.
Powder, kneeling on the ground by the end of the bed, didn’t look up as she smoothed the worn blanket over the mattress she’d pulled from the closet. “The three of us won’t fit on the bed.”
Ekko scoffed. “Don’t really want to share, anyway.”
You crossed your arms, arching a brow at him. “Not sharing a bed with me, or Pow?”
“You can’t just claim the bed,” you shot back, indignant.
“Why not? First come, first served.” Ekko leaned back, folding his arms behind his head like he was already settling in.
“Oh, come on.” You kicked at the mattress. “You’ve got this nice old mattress right here.”
He narrowed his eyes, clearly enjoying your indignation. “ You’ve got a nice old mattress.” Then he smirked, playing his trump card. “I’m the boyfriend. So I should get the bed with her.”
“By that logic, I’m the best friend,” you countered. “Therefore, I should get the bed.”
Powder glanced over her shoulder, her face split into a wide grin. “Flip a coin for it. I don’t care who gets the bed or not.” Then, as if anticipating neither of you would back down, she added, “Both of you can sleep on the floor if you really want.”
Her teasing pulled the tension out of the air, and Ekko shot you a victorious smirk as he rolled to the center to take up even more room.
You rolled your eyes, giving up the fight for now.
As the moment passed, your gaze drifted back to her desk. Amid the usual chaos of supplies and half-finished projects was something new: an open gift box. Curious, you stepped closer.
Inside was a framed collage, a carefully arranged mix of photos and clippings. There were pictures from Powder’s childhood, moments preserved from long-forgotten holidays and all the Christmases Vander and your parents had documented. A mix of photos showed her with her family, you, and Ekko in the snow. There were clippings of ribbons Powder used to wear in her hair, pressed flat against the collage, and notes you didn’t recognize.
“This is so cute,” you said, your curiosity piqued. “Who gave you that?”
Powder glanced up from the bed, her grin softening. “Vi. She gave it to me early—said she couldn’t wait until Christmas.”
Her tone was casual, but there was a warmth in her eyes as she spoke.
“Vi made that?” you asked, surprised.
Powder nodded. “She’s got her moments, you know.”
Ekko leaned back against the wall, chuckling. “You sound surprised. Vi’s the most sentimental person in this house.”
You blinked, caught off guard, your gaze flicking back to the collage. The little details stood out now—tiny notes scribbled in the margins of photos, careful placements that could only come from someone who knew Powder inside and out.
The realization settled slowly in your chest, like the soft weight of something long overdue. In the past few months, you’d let Vi’s tough act make a fool of you. You’d seen her through a lens warped by anger and frustration, letting her sharp edges and rough words overshadow everything else.
But you were wrong. You’d always known that, deep down.
Growing up, Vi had been a force of nature. Unstoppable, brooding, fierce in everything she did. She carried herself like someone who didn’t know how to back down, who didn’t know how to break. And maybe, as a kid, you’d believed that too—that she couldn’t break, that she was untouchable. But even then, there had been moments that broke through the storm, glimpses of the person she really was.
She’d always been the first to defend Powder when other kids teased her. She’d always been the one to step in when fights got too rough, when someone was about to cross a line they couldn’t take back. She was the one who stayed up late patching up scrapes and bruises with whatever supplies she could scrounge up, her hands gentler than you’d expected them to be.
Vi had always cared. Too much, maybe.
Her choices didn’t come from cold calculation or detached logic. She wasn’t distant. She wasn’t indifferent. Everything she did was rooted in emotion—raw, messy, overwhelming emotion that she couldn’t always hide. The same fire that made her so strong was the thing that burned her most. And somehow, you’d forgotten that.
Maybe it was because she played you. After all, she used you, used you like some toy until none of your tricks worked anymore. Until she got bored, you think.
Sorry, can’t keep doing this.
It had been months and the note is still tethered in your mind.
Powder, though, had never stopped seeing her for who she was. Powder fucking worshipped Violet. She always had. Even when they bickered, even when Vi’s temper flared, Powder talked about her like she was invincible. Her superhero big sister, the one who could do no wrong, who could fix anything.
To you, Vi had been more than a superhero. She’d been a storm. Something to admire from a safe distance, to watch in awe as she tore through the world around her. She was all the things you weren’t—bold, unyielding, unafraid. And maybe that’s why you couldn’t see her vulnerability. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to forget that she wasn’t just a storm.
Your gaze drifted back to the collage, to the careful placements and tiny notes scribbled in the margins. Every piece of it spoke to how well Vi knew her sister, how much she’d paid attention all these years, even when it looked like she wasn’t watching.
For all her strength, Vi had always been just as vulnerable as the rest of you.
--
Whenever Vi was around, you got quiet.
It wasn’t something you consciously decided. It just… happened. Words that usually came easily suddenly felt too big in your mouth, so when you were younger, you kept them locked behind your teeth.
The Last Drop was always noisy, the usual crowd of patrons filling the air with drunken chatter and the occasional crash of bottles. You weaved your way through the chaos, eyes scanning the room for Powder. She had a habit of disappearing into her projects, sometimes forgetting the world outside entirely, but she usually stuck to places where you could find her.
Though, she wasn’t at her usual corner table.
You hesitated outside the back room, your knuckles brushing against the door. It was already slightly ajar, faint light spilling into the hallway. You debated leaving—Powder would show up eventually, probably dragging some new contraption behind her—but then you heard the low murmur of a familiar voice.
Vi.
Your heart stuttered.
You pushed the door open cautiously, stepping inside. The smell of oil and something acrid lingered in the air, mingling with the warmth from the old, flickering light above. Violet was sitting at the edge of a workbench, her hands occupied with one of Powder’s unfinished gadgets. Her fingers worked with surprising precision , twisting wires together and securing pieces in place.
She looked up when she heard you enter, her sharp blue eyes pinning you in place.
“Looking for powder?”
You nodded, suddenly unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d been so prepared to ask Powder if she’d remembered to grab Ekko’s spare slingshot, but now you were just... standing there, your mouth slightly open.
“Is she... here?”
“Yeah, she went to get somthing.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“You wanna wait here?”
You nodded again, like it was the only thing you knew how to do.
She kept looking at you, “You can sit, you know.”
There weren’t many places to sit. The workbench was cluttered, and the rest of the room was lined with crates and boxes that didn’t seem sturdy enough to support anyone’s weight.
But then Vi slid over to the side of the workbench, her boots scuffing lightly against the floor as she made space, and she glanced at you expectantly.
You hesitated, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, before finally taking a step forward. Your movements felt clumsy like you were an awkward puppet trying to figure out its strings. When you finally sat down, you perched on the very edge of the workbench, choosing the spot farthest from her. Your legs dangled awkwardly, your hands gripping the edge of the bench.
It wasn’t that you were scared of her—not exactly. There was something magnetic about Violet that you couldn’t put into words. Powder had talked about her endlessly, weaving stories that sounded too cool to be true: how Vi could talk her way out of anything or fight her way through anything she couldn’t. How she always stood her ground, even when she was scared. Those stories had made Violet seem larger than life, someone untouchable and unreal.
But now she was here and suddenly all those stories felt real.
You’d only seen her in passing before—a fleeting glimpse in Powder’s hallway or her shadow leaning in through a doorway. Those encounters had been brief, easy to escape. This? There was no escaping this.
Vi must’ve noticed the space you’d intentionally put between you both.
She smiled, slow and lopsided, a faint shake of her head betraying her amusement.
“What’s funny?” you asked, defensive.
“Nothing,” she said, her voice edged with a chuckle. She leaned back on her hands, crossing her legs casually as though to make herself smaller—less intimidating, perhaps. “You’re just… I don’t know. Skittish.”
“I’m not skittish.”
“Right,” she teased.
Your hands curled tighter around the edge of the bench. You could feel your heart pounding so hard you were convinced she could hear it.
“Relax,” she said after a moment, her tone lighter. “I’m not gonna bite.”
“I know,” you blurted out, the words coming out louder than intended.
Vi chuckled softly, shaking her head again. “So,” she began, as if trying to put you at ease, “you and Powder—friends, huh?”
“Best friends.”
“You guys get into trouble?” she asked.
“No,” you said automatically.
Her eyebrows lifted. “You lying?”
“…No.”
The pause was too long to be convincing, and Vi’s smirk widened as she leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on her knees. “Uh-huh,” she murmured, clearly not buying it.
The door creaked open before she could press further, and you turned quickly, grateful for the interruption. Powder burst into the room, a notebook tucked under one arm and a precarious bundle of tools balanced in the other.
“There you are!” she chirped, her voice bubbling with excitement . “You’re not gonna believe this idea I had—”
Without waiting for a response, Powder grabbed your wrist, her grip surprisingly strong as she tugged you toward the door. She barely noticed Vi, too caught up in her excitement as she launched into an explanation of some wild project you only half-understood.
You stumbled after her, but as you reached the doorway, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder.
Vi was still watching you.
Her gaze was steady, her expression unreadable. It scared you. There was something in her eyes that made your stomach flip. Even as the door swung shut behind you, that look stayed with you, leaving a strange heat in its wake.
--
You’d always been a little jealous of how close Powder’s family was.
It wasn’t something you ever voiced aloud—it felt like a betrayal of your own family, even if there wasn’t much to betray. But the truth was that being around them, especially during the holidays, filled a space in you that you hadn’t even realized was empty.
Powder’s family had a way of making everyone feel like they belonged, whether it was Ekko or you slipping into the chaos of their home like you were meant to be there. Despite the worn walls, the mismatched furniture, and the chipped mugs of cocoa on the table, there was a warmth that couldn’t be shaken, a sense of togetherness that was tangible in the air.
They never made you feel like an intruder. In fact, you were certain you’d been assumed into the family years ago when Vander had hung up that photo of you winning your school’s spelling bee. It had a place of honour in the narrow hallway, wedged between photos of Powder’s first fight with Mylo (a blurry shot of fists mid-swing with Claggor and Vi trying to break them apart) and Ekko holding Isha as a baby.
Your photo was still there, a little faded from sunlight streaming through the windows, but it hadn’t budged. Vander’s way of saying you belonged.
The scent of cinnamon hung faintly in the air from Powder’s earlier attempt at baking cookies, but the chaos had only truly ignited when Vander, Silco, Claggor, and Isha returned from their last-minute grocery run.
The front door banged open, letting in a blast of cold December air, and the house erupted into chaos.
Isha launched herself off Claggor’s shoulders the second she spotted you and Ekko lounging on the couch with Powder. She gasped dramatically, her wide eyes shining as she yanked off her hat and darted forward, boots still tracking snow onto the worn rug.
“Shoes off at the door, Isha!” Vander called, his voice half-stern, half-amused as he stepped inside behind her, arms loaded with grocery bags.
Isha ignored him completely, stopping in front of you to tug insistently at your sleeve and point to the bag of snacks Vander had left on the counter. You raised an eyebrow and grinned. “You want first pick? Only if you let me braid your hair later.”
Isha exaggeratedly rolled her eyes but gave you an enthusiastic nod, darting toward the kitchen before Claggor could even put the bags down.
“Didn’t we just clean the floor this morning?” Claggor muttered, shaking his head but smiling. He followed Isha into the kitchen, helping Silco unpack the bags while Mylo hovered nearby, his arm already snagging the bag of candy canes.
“We’re redoing those cookies,” Silco said, his calm voice cutting through Mylo’s protests.
“That’s not on me! Powder was supposed to—”
“You were distracting me!” Powder called from the couch, not even bothering to look away from the movie she and Ekko were half-watching.
“Enough bickering. Let’s just get it done,” Silco said with finality, rolling up his sleeves.
Warm greetings and laughter followed, and eventually, everyone found their way to the living room. It felt like old times—loud, messy, and alive in a way that was uniquely theirs.
You sat cross-legged on the rug, carefully weaving a braid into Isha’s hair. She perched in front of you with exaggerated patience, her fingers tapping on her knees every time you paused to adjust a strand. Every so often, she tilted her head back to glance at the movie, nearly undoing your work.
“Stay still,” you murmured, gently guiding her head back into place.
She groaned dramatically, her hands moving in quick, sharp gestures towards the television.
“You’ll see when it’s done,” you promised, laughing softly. “Almost there.”
Across the room, Powder was curled up on the couch with Ekko behind her, the two of them bundled under a mismatched blanket. Powder sipped from a steaming mug, her eyes half-closed as she relaxed against Ekko’s chest.
“You missed a spot,” Ekko teased, gesturing vaguely toward the braid.
“Quiet, or you’re next,” you shot back with a grin, earning a soft laugh from Powder.
“Next? You think I’d let you near my hair?” Ekko countered, sitting up just enough to look mock-offended.
“Keep talking, and I’ll braid yours while you sleep,” you quipped, finishing Isha’s braid with a quick twist and securing it with a small elastic.
Isha beamed as you let her go, rushing to the mirror by the dining room to inspect your handiwork. She returned moments later with a bright smile and a thumbs-up of approval, spinning dramatically to show off to everyone before plopping back down beside you on the rug.
The room hummed with quiet chatter and the faint crackle of the old TV. Vander sat in the armchair, flipping through the pages of an old, dog-eared book, while Claggor and Mylo argued over whose turn it was to get the snacks from the kitchen. Silco leaned against the wall, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched the scene unfold.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered when Vi would come back home. She always seemed to find her way back eventually, just like everyone else.
But for now, you let yourself sink into the warmth of the room, the sound of Isha’s soft humming beside you, and the way this mismatched family made you feel whole.
--
It was hours later until the house had finally quieted down.
By the time you got ready for bed, everyone else had already found their corners of the house to sleep in. Powder and Ekko had claimed the couch for a while, tangled up under the same blanket, their heads tilted toward one another before they went upstairs. Vander was stretched out in his recliner, his book slipping from his fingers as his snores rumbled softly through the room. Mylo and Claggor had retreated to their rooms. Even Silco, who always seemed to operate on less sleep than anyone else, had disappeared.
The last to go was Isha.
She hadn’t wanted to leave the warmth of the living room, her small hands clutching your sleeve as you led her down the hallway to her bedroom. She’d signed with exaggerated reluctance, dragging her feet just enough to make you laugh softly.
“Come on, you need your beauty sleep,” you had teased, tucking her into the small bed piled high with mismatched blankets. Isha grinned up at you, her eyes bright even in the low light, before closing them as if to humour you.
Once her breathing had evened out, you quietly slipped out of the room, shutting the door just enough to let a sliver of light from the hallway peek through.
And you? You lingered.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you brushed your teeth slowly, watching your reflection in the dim light. The rhythmic swish of the toothbrush and the faint creak of the old floorboards were the only sounds in the stillness. You were taking your time, you realized.
It wasn’t that you weren’t tired. You were—your limbs heavy from the warmth of the house, your eyes drooping slightly. But you’d noticed the way Powder had curled closer to Ekko as the night went on, the soft, shy glances she’d thrown him. They’d barely had a moment alone all evening, and you didn’t want to intrude, not when she’d looked so happy.
So, you stalled.
After rinsing your mouth, you padded quietly into the kitchen, your socked feet barely making a sound on the worn floor. You poured yourself a glass of water, sipping slowly as you glanced out the window. The snow had stopped falling, leaving a soft blanket of white under the moonlight. It was the kind of quiet that made you feel like the whole world was holding its breath.
You set the glass down on the counter, letting your fingers trace the rim absentmindedly. The stillness felt comforting, though admittedly a little lonely.
The soft creak of the front door broke the silence.
You turned, your heart skipping just slightly at the unexpected sound. The door opened slowly, and a familiar figure stepped inside, brushing snow off her jacket.
Vi.
She quietly kicked the door closed behind her, her boots scuffing against the rug as she tugged her gloves off. Her hair was damp with melted snow, and her cheeks were flushed from the cold. She looked surprised to see you, her eyes narrowing slightly before recognition softened her expression.
“Oh, hey.”
“Hi.”
You watched as she shed her jacket, revealing the worn sweater she had underneath. She looked good, you realized, in that effortless way she always did. Like she didn’t have to try to draw attention—she just did. You hated that after all this time you still found her maddeningly attractive.
You cleared your throat. “Did you have fun?”
You were trying this new thing called: being mature.
Vi glanced at you, her brows knitting together as if puzzled by your question. It struck you that maybe she’d expected you to ignore her, to keep the peace by staying out of her way. “Oh, yeah. Jayce says hi.”
That tugged a faint smile from you despite yourself. It had been a while since you’d seen or even thought of Jayce, Mel, or the rest of the old crew. Memories stirred—ones you hadn’t decided whether to cherish or bury.
“I figured everyone would be asleep by now,” she said as she moved toward the kitchen, her voice casual but her movements careful, like she was testing the waters.
“They are,” you replied. “I was just… taking my time.”
Vi arched an eyebrow, leaning against the counter beside you, her frame close enough to feel the faint warmth radiating off her. “Taking your time? That’s a new one.”
You rolled your eyes, the teasing curve of her lips unsettling you more than you wanted to admit. “Powder and Ekko looked like they could use some space. I thought I’d give them a chance to… you know, not have me hovering.”
“How considerate of you.”
“I can be nice.”
“Sure you can.”
“Yeah, well, I try,” you said, shifting your weight and crossing your arms as you turned to face her.
The kitchen fell silent. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy, either. She met your gaze, her expression unreadable for a moment. Her gaze on your skin felt like a physical touch, and when it stopped at your lips, a shock of heat went through your body, from the crown of your head down to your toes. Her eyes moved over you like a caress of the summer breeze.
You watched her swallow. You saw her mouth part, her tongue emerging to wet her lips.
All of a sudden, the thought of being civil shattered, crumbling into a heap of raw, unfiltered anger. You were back in your bed that summer, the sunlight streaming through your curtains in lazy, mocking streaks. It was too bright, too cheerful, as if the world hadn’t just caved in on you.
Your eyes zeroed in on that damned note—the one she’d left on your bedside table, shoved beneath an old glass of water. Half-empty. The wet rim of the glass had left its mark, smudging the ink like it was trying to wipe her words away, but they were seared into your mind.
Sorry, can’t keep doing this. Take care.
Can’t keep doing what ? Can’t keep loving you? Can’t keep seeing the way your ribs were cracking? The skin breaking? The bone snapping? Splintering after each pound of your heart because she was close to you? Because she was kissing you? Because her lips left searing marks for you to remember the longing in her eyes, the blush on her cheeks?
Can’t keep doing what ?
Why couldn’t she take the heart you were giving her? Why couldn't she take it from your hands, blooded at the nails as you tore it from your own chest, strings and veins hoping to attach to hers if she lets you?
Huh.
Maybe you weren’t as over it as you thought.
Even now, the bitterness clawed its way back to the surface, sharp and unrelenting. You remembered the feeling—the quiet, creeping devastation of being blindsided. The hollow ache in your chest as you read her rushed words, so impersonal it felt like a stranger had written them. Not her.
The sharp edge of the memory made you flinch, thrusting you backward, too fast, your hip slamming into the counter. The pain was sharp, wrenching you back to the present. You winced, a pained groan caught in your throat.
“Hey—” Vi moved toward you instinctively, her arms half-raised.
“I should go to bed,” you managed, voice strained and uneven. You reached for your glass, fumbled it into the sink, and winced at the clatter. Frustration rose like a tide, threatening to pull you under.
Vi muttered your name, soft, almost tender. Her hand brushed against your forearm, the barest graze of her fingers sending a shock through you. You jerked back, raising a hand to keep her at a distance.
“You’re still angry,” she said, her voice even, like she was stating a fact.
A bitter laugh escaped you, sharp and cutting. “Shouldn’t I be?”
“Look—”
“What are we doing here, Vi?”
She tilted her head, trying for humour. “Standing in the kitchen?”
You didn’t smile. Couldn’t. “Vi.”
“What?”
“You left me.”
She went stock still. Rigid.
Finally, finally , there you were, hands balled into fists, turning in the middle of the room. Almost a decade’s worth of anger, disappointment, confusion, and, what the hell, maybe a little hatred boiled over, clawing its way out of you before you could stop it.
“ You left me,” you repeated, your voice rising despite yourself. “And I… I had no one to talk to about it. Do you have any idea what that was like?”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“You told me not to tell Powder. You made me promise,” you continued, your voice cracking under the weight of it. “Do you know how fucked up it was to keep that kind of secret from her? From everyone?”
Vi’s jaw tightened, and her lips pressed into a thin, defensive line. “Obviously I know. She’s my sister. What the hell was I supposed to do? Just tell her I was hooking up with her best friend behind her back? How was that gonna go over?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Vi,” you hissed, trying to keep quiet. You threw your hands up, pacing a step away before turning back. “You really think Powder would’ve cared? She idolizes you. She’d have been thrilled if you had just—ugh—grown a pair and said something!”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Vi snapped, “you weren’t the one breaking every unspoken rule of friendship with her. I was. I was lying to her, betraying her—”
“Easy for me? What? And what ?” you shot back, cutting her off. “You think I was just fine with lying to my best friend, pretending nothing was going on? I thought we were doing this together, Vi. But no, you had to make it this big, guilty secret. Like... like I was some dirty fucking secret to you.”
“It wasn’t like that—you weren’t—”
“And then—then you didn’t even have the guts to tell me you were leaving. You just—” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the memory of that note resurfaced, slicing through your chest all over again. You threw your hands in the air, dropping them by your aside, “You left a fucking note and ran off like a fucking pussy.”
Vi flinched at that, but her defences were back up in an instant. “You don’t get it,” she said, her voice lower now, simmering with frustration. “I felt like I was losing myself. Like I was letting both of you down—Powder and you. I thought leaving was the only way to fix it.”
Her being vulnerable made you even angrier. You had thought you were prepared, that magically you’d be able to have a civil conversation that settled the matter in a way that left you with your pride intact and Vi still being the heartless bitch you remembered her as (which you knew was not true at all, but lately you only had that note to remember her by tied with whatever Powder would tell you).
Clearly, you’ve miscalculated.
“You were wrong.”
“I know.”
“And stupid.”
“I get it.”
You took a breath. “I just... I hope we can be civil. For Powder. I’m here because of her. For her. She’s the only reason I came back.”
Vi looked away.
“Goodnight, Violet,” you muttered, brushing past her before she could try to stop you again.
--
You didn’t think you could love anyone more than you loved Powder.
Powder wasn’t just your best friend; she was your gravity, the one who kept you tethered to the earth when everything else threatened to spin out of control. She was the ink blot in the centre of every map you’d ever drawn, the beginning and end of every plan. By the time you were fourteen, the bond between you felt indestructible, like it was woven from a thread that the universe had spun just for the two of you.
You were partners in crime, yes, but also in something deeper: a shared wonder at the world, a refusal to accept its boundaries. Together, you didn’t just dream—you built those dreams. With your hands, your voices, your endless supply of hope, you created things no one else dared to imagine. There were nights when you’d sit under the dim glow of a streetlamp, her head resting on your shoulder, as the two of you scribbled on scraps of stolen paper . Plans for impossible inventions, designs that were part genius, part disaster, but always wholly yours.
It wasn’t just that you loved Powder. It was that she was a part of you. Her laughter lived in your bones, her worries haunted your heart, and her victories felt like your own . She had a way of looking at you, wide-eyed and trusting, that made you believe you could do anything, so long as you did it together.
You both made a mess of things sometimes—scraped knees, singed eyebrows, stolen goods that were more trouble than they were worth. But those moments became stories to tell and retell, memories you carried like talismans against the dark. Because no matter how wild things got, no matter how many alleyways you ran through or rooftops you scrambled over, you always knew Powder would be there at the end of it , laughing, breathless, and shining like the only light you’d ever need.
If there were such a thing as soulmates, you were certain Powder was yours. Not in the way people whispered about under the glow of moonlight—not romantic, not fleeting. But something ancient, bone-deep, like the kind of love that could outlast wars, loss, even time itself. If the world ended, you were sure the two of you would still find a way to survive, together, cobbling something beautiful out of the ruins.
She was your compass, your north star, your reason for believing that things could get better. And you would have done anything for her.
Her room was your second home (much like your own was hers), a chaotic mess of everything that made Powder Powder . The walls were covered in scrawled blueprints pinned up with mismatched tacks, paper edges curling from the humidity of the Lanes.
Above her bed, a row of old family pictures was strung like fairy lights, clipped onto twine with tiny clothespins. The images were faded but warm—Powder as a baby, Powder with Mylo and Claggor, Violet grinning with her arm around a much smaller Powder, Vander and Silco somewhere in the background, a recent one with you and Ekko at each of her sides.
Her desk was a cluttered battleground of unfinished gadgets, scattered tools, and school assignments half-completed and half-forgotten. A worn, stuffed bunny sat propped against one of the desk legs, its button eyes long since replaced with mismatched screws.
On the floor next to the bed, your backpack sat half-open, spilling its contents onto a pile of Powder’s clothes that might as well have been yours by now. The two of you had shared so many hoodies and t-shirts that you barely knew whose was whose anymore.
You were perched on Powder’s bed, the mattress lumpy but familiar, as the sharp scent of nail polish filled the air. Powder’s fingers were smudged with blue from a bottle that had tipped over earlier, and she was trying to paint your nails without dripping polish all over the blanket between you.
“Hold still,” she muttered, her tongue poking out as she concentrated.
“You’re the one making a mess,” you shot back, laughing as you pulled your hand away to examine the streak of polish running down your finger. “This looks awful, Pow. You should’ve let me do this.”
She snatched your hand back with a huff, “Fuck off. It’s not my fault you have twitchy hands.”
With her exaggerated movement, she knocked over the bottle again. Blue polish spilled onto the blanket, spreading in a small puddle.
“Powder!” you exclaimed, though you couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling out of you.
“Oops,” she said with a shrug, clearly not sorry, as she grabbed a rag to clean it up.
The two of you burst into laughter, leaning against each other for balance, the kind that made your ribs ache and your cheeks hurt.
Scattered across the bed were the sketches for her latest invention—a spring-loaded trap designed to “keep Mylo out of my room.” You’d been helping her refine the design all evening, pointing out where the gears might jam or how to reinforce the springs so they wouldn’t snap.
“You think this will actually work?” you asked, picking up one of the schematics and holding it up to the light.
“It’ll work,” Powder said with complete confidence, leaning over to add a few more messy lines to the paper. “It has to... or, y’know, boom.” She grinned like that was the best possible outcome.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help grinning back.
You started to climb out of the bed, shifting carefully so you didn’t disturb the scattered nail polish bottles or the sketches on the blanket. Before you could get your balance, Powder jabbed a foot into your side with a mischievous grin, sending you sprawling onto the floor with a loud thud .
“Powder!” you groaned, rubbing your arm where you landed on the corner of a notebook.
Her response was to double over with laughter, the sound light and uncontrollable. “Sorry, sorry,” she wheezed, though the glint in her eye said otherwise. “You made it too easy!”
You grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at her, hitting her square in the face. Powder let out a dramatic gasp, clutching the pillow as it had wounded her. “Oh, you bitch!” she declared, launching herself off the bed and tackling you back onto the floor.
The two of you wrestled in a storm of laughter and flailing limbs, your voices loud enough to rattle the pictures on her wall. At some point, she managed to pin you down, her blue-stained fingers triumphantly waving the pillow above her head.
A sharp bang came from the wall, followed by Mylo’s muffled voice. “Shut the fuck up! Some of us are trying to sleep!”
You both froze for a moment before bursting into another fit of uncontrollable giggles, clutching your stomachs as you rolled away from each other.
“I can’t breathe,” you gasped, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye.
Powder flopped onto her back, still giggling. “Mylo’s such a loser.”
When the laughter finally began to subside, your stomach growled loud enough for her to hear. You groaned in embarrassment while Powder perked up, her expression instantly brightening.
“Thank god,” she said, leaping to her feet and tossing the pillow onto the bed. “I’m starving.”
She bounded toward the door, knocking over a sketchbook you were sure belonged to Ekko and a bottle of glitter glue on her way. You sat up, still catching your breath, and watched as she paused at the doorframe, turning back to wave you over.
“C’mon, slowpoke,” she teased. “Don’t make me eat by myself.”
The promise of food was enough to spur you into action. You scrambled to your feet, brushing off the stray bits of blanket fuzz clinging to your pyjamas, and followed her out.
The hallway was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlights outside filtering through cracked blinds. The air smelled faintly of Vander’s cigars mixed with the tantalizing aroma of whatever takeout Claggor ordered was waiting downstairs. Powder’s footsteps were quick and uneven as she hopped down the stairs two at a time, her voice echoing back to you.
“What d’you think they got? Noodles? Oh, maybe dumplings! Or those buns—what’re they called? The ones with the pork inside?”
“Bao?” you offered, gripping the railing to keep from tripping over a stray shoe someone had left on the stairs.
“Yeah, those!” she called over her shoulder.
When you reached the bottom of the stairs, the smell of food was stronger, warm and savoury, wrapping around you like a hug. Powder darted into the living room ahead of you, but you stopped in your tracks as soon as you rounded the corner.
Violet was sprawled across the couch, her legs up on the armrest. Her boots were still on, the scuffed soles pressed into the worn cushions. Pink hair tumbled loosely around her face, half-obscuring her sharp features as she leaned back with a dumpling poised between her fingers. Her eyes flicked to yours mid-bite, and her smirk was immediate.
Beside her, Caitlyn sat upright, a contrast to Vi’s casual sprawl on her lap. Caitlyn’s dark hair was neatly tied back, and she rested one hand lightly on Vi’s hair. Together, they looked so at ease, so entwined in their quiet dynamic that it made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t quite understand—or didn’t want to.
“Well, well,” Vi drawled, her voice carrying that familiar teasing lilt. “Look who decided to join the party.” Her eyes roamed over you and Powder, and her grin widened, sharp and almost playful.
Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You had seen them together before, but there was something about seeing them like this—so comfortable, so casual—that left you rooted to the spot. You glanced at Powder, silently begging for an anchor, but she was already tearing into the takeout bags on the table.
“Finally!” Powder exclaimed, holding up a box of noodles like it was treasure. She dropped to the floor without hesitation, crossing her legs and pulling the box into her lap.
She glanced pointedly at Vi and Caitlyn, rolling her eyes. “Are you two gonna take that upstairs, or do we have to suffer through whatever this is during our dinner?” She gestured vaguely at the space (or lack of) between them, nose scrunching in disgust.
Vi scoffed, stuffing the rest of the dumpling into her mouth. “We were here first,” she said, words slightly muffled.
“I don’t care.”
Vi leaned back further into the couch, looking entirely unbothered. “We’re not moving, Pow.”
You tried to ignore the way your chest tightened as you shuffled closer to Powder, grabbing the first takeout box your hand landed on. Powder nudged you with her elbow, grinning conspiratorially. “Ignore them,” she whispered, her tone light and dismissive.
And you did.
You ignored them for months, maybe even years. You ignored the way your stomach twisted itself into knots every time Vi was near. You ignored the lingering glances, the lazy smirks, and the moments that felt too heavy for what they were.
You ignored her when she stopped calling you “Powder’s friend” and started using your name instead—when she started seeing you not as an extension of her sister, but as your own person.
Maybe it was better off when she never saw you as such.
--
You figured (because you didn’t know how to act around Violet without wanting to scream and tear your own hair out) that the best way to be civil was to fall back on old habits. Childish habits, sure, but perhaps the most mature option available—given that talking about feelings had not worked out the way you’d hoped. For now, ignoring Vi entirely seemed like the safest bet.
When she walked into a room, you made it a point to walk out into another. If leaving wasn’t an option, you buried your nose further into whatever book was in your hands. Maybe Vander needed help in the kitchen, or Powder needed a hand with one of her endless projects. Claggor’s choice of movie—one you’d initially deemed boring—suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world.
It was a tactic you’d mastered as a kid. And if you were being honest, you blamed Powder for it. She’d started this habit of avoiding Vi, and it had rubbed off on you. Whenever a flash of pink hair crossed the corner of your vision, you’d instinctively turn the other way.
Back then, the reason was simple: Powder hated Caitlyn. Vi never seemed to go anywhere without her, so to show her disapproval, Powder avoided her sister like the plague and gave her the silent treatment for weeks—months, even. Naturally, being attached at the hip with Powder meant you also ignored Vi with just as much vigour. Though, of course, your reasons had always been different. They still were.
You were reminded of those days the next morning when you and Claggor exchanged knowing glances, your silent conversation punctuated by the sound of yelling from upstairs. Over the hum of the television, you could just barely make out Vi and Powder arguing about something as ridiculous as “ my jacket! ” and “ it’s not yours! ”
It is not exactly an uncommon occurrence in the household. Powder and Vi fought over stupid things all the time, and you inevitably got dragged into the middle of it.
Before long, Powder stomped down the stairs, rubbing at her eyes and grumbling under her breath. Spotting you on the couch, her expression brightened, a mischievous glint lighting up her tired face. “Wanna get out of here for a bit? See if any shops are still open? Or just... walk around?”
You opened your mouth, ready to point out that it was freezing outside, that the snow had to be inches high by now—but you caught the desperate edge in her tone, the almost pleading look in her eyes, and swallowed the protest.
“Sure,” you said instead, pushing yourself off the couch.
Getting ready was quick enough, though you couldn’t resist giving Ekko a side-eye as he sprawled across Powder’s bed, snoring lightly with one arm draped lazily over his face. You were lacing up your boots when the door swung open, and Vi appeared in the frame.
She froze for a moment when she saw you sitting at Powder’s desk instead of her sister. Her eyes flicked across the room, taking in the scene—the absence of Powder, the half-packed bag on the bed.
“Where’s—?”
“Bathroom,” you replied curtly, not bothering to turn fully around.
“Right.”
You expected her to leave after that. But as you turned back to the mirror over Powder’s vanity, adjusting your scarf, you caught Vi lingering in the doorway in your reflection.
It was so reminiscent of when you were kids that it made your chest ache. Back then, you ignored her when she barged into Powder’s room during your sleepovers, teasing her little sister with her typical swagger and throwing offhand comments that always seemed to be aimed at you.
Powder, immune to Vi’s antics, would roll her eyes and brush her off. You, on the other hand, weren’t so lucky. Heat would creep up your neck, and you’d stumble over your words when Vi’s gaze lingered on you for just a second too long.
Now, Vi’s presence was quieter, more uncertain. She didn’t tease like she used to, but her lingering still made your heart stutter.
“You guys going out?”
“Yeah.”
You fell back into the old routine more smoothly than you’d anticipated, and a small, self-satisfied part of you almost wanted to pat yourself on the back. It was easier this way—one-word answers, your refusal to meet her gaze, to acknowledge her properly.
For a moment, you wondered if she noticed.
“Where you going?”
“Dunno.”
“Not many places open. ’Cause of the snow.”
“Mm.”
“Yeah, might start snowing again tonight, too.”
“ Cool .”
It was a rhythm you knew well, a game of evasion and clipped responses that kept you safely guarded. But then she threw you off balance.
“Do you need a ride?”
That made you pause. The unexpected question broke the rhythm, and your routine faltered. Against your better judgment, you glanced at her—just briefly—from the mirror. A mistake. She was still in her pyjamas, red plaid pants slung low on her hips, and a worn tank that clung to her in a way that made your breath hitch. You stared longer than you should have, breaking one of your unspoken rules.
Her smirk, subtle but unmistakable, told you she noticed.
You scowled, turning your eyes back to the mirror. “Ask Powder,” you muttered. “I don’t know where we’re going.”
You hated how your voice betrayed you, a little too soft, a little too unsure.
“We’re taking Isha skating,” Powder chimed in as she walked into the room, her tone matter-of-fact.
Isha followed close behind, bundled in layers with a stride full of swagger and a bright scarf hanging loosely around her neck. She walked straight up to Vi, a grin lighting up her face, and promptly took off her own hat, stretching onto her toes to jump and plop it onto Vi’s head.
Vi froze for a moment, surprised, before reaching up to adjust the too-small hat, her fingers brushing against the wool. “Thanks, squirt,” she murmured, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips.
Isha just smirked, stepping back and crossing her arms with a triumphant air, clearly pleased with herself.
Powder barely spared her older sister another glance as she sauntered further in, kicking Ekko’s side as she passed. “Wake up, lazy,” she grumbled.
Ekko jolted awake with a groan, rubbing his face as Isha launched herself onto the bed. Her delighted squeal filled the room as she climbed over Ekko, her tiny hands tugging at his shirt to get his attention.
Meanwhile, Powder turned to Vi, hands on her hips, her expression unreadable. “You can come if you want,” she said with a shrug, her voice casual but edged with something more.
It was her way of forgiving her—or maybe apologizing. You could never quite tell. You hadn’t caught enough of their fight to figure out who’d been in the wrong this time.
Vi seemed to hesitate, her gaze flickering between you, Powder, and Isha, who was now giggling uncontrollably as Ekko tried to tickle her.
You sighed quietly to yourself. Skating sounded like a good escape. You loved it, always had, and the thought of gliding across the ice under the open sky was tempting. But the whole point of agreeing to Powder’s idea was to avoid Violet—not to end up skating in circles around her.
--
It was hard to ignore Vi the spring she got her first tattoo.
It was a simple design that spiralled around the back of her forearm. It was understated but bold, much like Vi herself. For weeks after, more tattoos appeared—on her shoulders, the side of her neck, her back. Piercings too. The ink seemed to mark milestones in her life that you weren’t a part of, reminders of how much she’d changed while you’d stayed tethered to the same place.
When your parents invited Powder’s family over for a barbecue and swim by the time summer came around, you tried your hardest to ignore her there too.
It wasn’t easy with the way the sunlight glinted off the ink on her shoulders, the intricate patterns shifting and coming alive whenever she moved. Her back muscles flexed when she leaned over to grab a drink from the cooler, her damp hair sticking to her neck in a way that made your stomach twist—a sleeveless shirt and boy shorts that showed off the tattoos snaking along her arms and neck.
And then there was Caitlyn.
She arrived with Vi, stepping out of the same car with a soft laugh that carried across the yard. Tall, composed, and impossibly pretty, Caitlyn’s presence lit up the space in a way that felt both magnetic and infuriating. Her fitted sundress swayed as she walked, fuck she was so perfect.
You liked Caitlyn.
She was kind, posh in that way that only people from richer side of the city seemed to be, and, sure, a little ignorant at times—but she had an earnestness about her that made it hard to hold it against her. She listened, really listened. She was understanding, and she was considerate.
She’d never given you a reason not to like her. Well, Powder might have a list if you asked her—snide little remarks about her polished accent or her insistence on “doing things properly.” But Powder’s grievances never carried any real weight, not to you. Caitlyn wasn’t perfect, but she wasn’t trying to be, and that made it easier to like her.
You liked the way she did her makeup. When you mentioned it once, offhandedly, she lit up like you’d given her the highest compliment. “I could teach you, if you’d like,” she’d offered, her voice soft and a little shy, as if she wasn’t sure you’d accept.
Whenever she slept over at Powder’s house, she’d take you by the hand, leading you to the cramped little bathroom with its flickering bulb and streaky mirror (which Silco had fixed now). Out came her makeup bag, an immaculate little case filled with powders and brushes that looked impossibly fancy.
“Close your eyes,” she’d say, her tone somewhere between playful and professional.
You already knew how to do your own makeup—of course you did—but there was something comforting in the way Caitlyn worked. The gentle pressure of her fingers tilting your chin, the soft brushes grazing your skin, the quiet hum of concentration she always had. Her style never quite suited your face the way it suited hers but you didn’t mind. You liked the ritual of it, the way it felt like a secret just for the two of you.
More than that, you liked the way she tried. She tried to know you , to understand the patchwork family Powder had built around herself. She made the effort in ways that felt deliberate, and thoughtful, and it was hard not to respect that.
You liked to think she was your friend.
Caitlyn looped her arm casually through Vi’s, leaning in to whisper something that made Vi chuckle—a rare, unguarded sound that carried over the backyard.
Powder, bobbing beside you in the pool, nudged your shoulder with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.
“Oh, there they go again,” she scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain.
You tried not to react, forcing your gaze away from Vi and Caitlyn. Instead, you focused on the sunlight dancing across the water’s surface, glinting like shards of glass as it clung to your skin. “What?” you muttered, keeping your tone as flat as possible .
Powder tilted her head toward the scene. “I wish they’d get a room or something. It’s fucking disgusting.”
“Come on, Pow, they’re just talking,” Ekko chimed in, sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet submerged in the water. He leaned back lazily, his sunglasses perched on his nose.
“Talking leads to cuddling,” Powder grumbled, crossing her arms as she floated beside you. “And cuddling leads to kissing. And we all know where that leads to.”
“Gross,” you muttered under your breath before splashing her, the water catching her square in the face.
“I’m just saying,” she shot back, blinking water from her lashes. “They’re gross.”
“You’re her sister, of course you’re gonna find it gross,” Ekko reminded her.
Powder huffed, her brow furrowing. “No, it’s gross because I don’t think Caitlyn’s good for her.”
“And you know who’s good for Vi?”
“Of course I do,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone so self-assured it nearly made you laugh. “Just like I know Gert’s good for Mylo if he’d stop being a little pussy about it.”
You followed her gaze to where Mylo stood by Claggor near the grill, the two of them peering into the barbecue. Mylo was trying (and failing) to sneak a piece of food before it was ready.
“I love your way with words,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes.
“Thank you,” Powder replied brightly, poking your side. Then her grin faltered, and she sighed. “But seriously. It’s like I have to wrestle her for Vi’s attention. And it’s annoying.”
--
You’d tied your skates too tight. Not intentionally—at least, that’s what you told yourself—but enough that your feet screamed. The blinding ache radiated up your calves, sharp and unrelenting, and you welcomed it. Maybe if you focused on the pain, it could drown out the storm brewing in your chest, the bitterness, the ache of everything else you didn’t want to feel. Maybe even how fucking cold it was outside.
Every step sent a throb through your legs, forcing you to clench your jaw until your teeth ground together. Ahead, Powder and Ekko laughed as they circled the rink, Isha wedged between them, tugging at their hands to keep herself upright. Her gleeful giggles floated back to you, light and carefree.
You stumbled again, catching your balance just in time to avoid another fall. That was the third time in the past ten minutes. The third damn time. You weren’t bad at skating—far from it, actually. Normally, you glide over the ice with ease, cutting through the rink like a blade. But today, the weight of your mood clung to you like lead, pulling you down, making you clumsier with every step.
You tried to focus on the cold air biting at your cheeks, on the blinding sunlight against the white snow, the rhythmic scrape of skates against the ice, but it did nothing to shake the sourness coiling tighter and tighter in your gut.
You were mid-stumble, arms flailing slightly as you tried to catch yourself again when the faintest whiff of something familiar hit you—cologne, earthy and faintly sweet. And then, beside you, came the sound of old, busted hockey skates carving through the ice.
Of all the bad luck…
“Hey,” came Vi’s voice, “you okay?”
You didn’t turn to look at her. Barely spared her a glance out of the corner of your eye.
“Fine.”
She didn’t leave. Of course, she didn’t. Instead, she lingered, her presence as irritating as the ache in your feet.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, skating closer, her voice quieter now but still persistent.
You sighed heavily, exasperated. “My feet hurt.”
“You wanna sit?”
“No.”
She let out a breath—sharp, annoyed, and entirely too familiar. “Fine.”
She didn’t skate away, though. She stayed right where she was, matching your pace despite the wobble in your steps. Her silence gnawed at you, scraping at the edges of your resolve like sandpaper.
You tightened your grip on the thought—the hope—that she’d eventually leave, that she’d get bored and skate off to join Powder or Isha. But she didn’t. Instead, she stayed, her presence an infuriating reminder of everything you were trying to forget.
You clenched your jaw and pushed forward, ignoring the sting in your feet, ignoring her, ignoring everything except the dull thud of your skates against the ice.
But then your skate caught on a groove in the ice, a small imperfection that sent you lurching forward. Your heart jumped into your throat as your arms flailed for balance.
Before you could hit the ice, a hand shot out, firm and steady, catching your elbow. Vi steadied you without a word, her grip warm and grounding even through the layers of your jacket.
“Thanks,” you muttered, pulling your arm away as if her touch burned.
She gave a faint nod, her expression unreadable, her eyes flickering to you before glancing ahead. You opened your mouth to speak, to say something—anything—but the words twisted up inside you, tangling with the bitterness that had settled in your chest.
You wanted to talk to her. You really did. But what would you even say? You’d already tried last night, hadn’t you? Tried to bridge the gap, to ask questions you weren’t ready to hear the answers to. And it had all fallen flat.
You wanted to hate her, too, to let the anger you’d buried beneath your sadness take root and keep you standing tall. But then she went and did this—acting all nice, like nothing had happened. Like you were still just Powder’s best friend, and by extension, her friend too. Like you hadn’t been broken by her absence, her coldness, her silence.
Your mind betrayed you, slipping back to the moments you wished you could share. You wanted to tell her about college. About the awkward first dates Powder still teased you about, the bad ones you couldn’t even laugh about yet. Maybe you even wanted her to tease you, to laugh along, like she used to.
But the thought of wanting that, of still wanting her, stung.
“You sure you’re fine?” she asked, her voice cutting through the haze in your head. It was softer this time, almost tender, and it sent a pang through your chest.
“Just thinking…” you replied, your words trailing off.
“About?”
You .
The thought alone made your jaw tighten and your scowl to deepen, the bitter ache winding tighter around your ribs. Why couldn’t you let it go? Why couldn’t you just move on? You’d told yourself you had. But now, here you were, on this damn rink, feeling every fracture of what had once been, with Vi skating beside you as if she had no idea. She must know.
She must know.
Why was she being so nice? Why was she looking at you like that? Like she cared? She didn’t, not really. If she did, why did she leave? Why did she care so much about what someone else had to say?
Maybe you shouldn’t have come back. Maybe you should’ve stayed with your parents for Christmas. Maybe you should’ve gone to some sunny, beach-side retreat and pretended to enjoy the holidays while being surrounded by strangers.
Shit, maybe you were the problem.
You blinked, startled back to reality by a kid skating too close and brushing against your arm. The rink was alive with motion—kids wobbling precariously as parents held their hands, teenagers zipping by in pairs, the sound of laughter mingling with the scrape of skates on ice. The faint, frosty smell of winter mingled with the warmth of spiced cocoa from the rink’s concession stand.
You took a sharp breath, your focus shifting to Vi, who was already watching you. Her brows were furrowed, a small line forming between them, her concern evident.
As if she cared.
Did she? Could she?
You clenched your fists, willing yourself not to scowl again, not to let her see the turmoil you were struggling to keep buried. You tried to be mature, to play it cool, to remind yourself you were over this. Over her.
“Nothin’,” you muttered, shaking your head.
Vi didn’t press. She just nodded slightly and kept skating beside you, her presence steady but silent.
Ahead, Powder waved with both hands, her grin stretching wide as Isha spun in a shaky circle beside her. Powder’s voice carried over the cold air, calling your names.
You didn’t wave back. You couldn’t. The weight in your chest held you down, rooted you to the ice even as your skates moved forward.
But Vi didn’t leave. She stayed right there, keeping pace with you, her quiet persistence chipping away at the edges of your resolve.
You wonder if you did the same for her.
--
The music was loud—too loud—but that was part of the charm. The thumping bass rattled through your ribcage, shaking you from the inside out, while the floor beneath you trembled with the rhythm of countless feet jumping in sync. You could feel the music in your blood, like a heartbeat that wasn’t your own, each beat pushing you higher, pulling you deeper into the chaos.
You loved to party with Powder.
Her hand was a lifeline, gripping yours tightly as the two of you wove through the throng of swaying bodies, your drinks sloshing in red solo cups that were more a suggestion of something to hold than something to drink. The cheap alcohol inside had long since gone warm, sticky trails of it slipping down your wrists every time you threw your hands up or spun around.
Your hair clung to your damp forehead, strands sticking to the sweat glistening on your skin. Powder looked no different—her eyeliner smeared into dark, uneven crescents beneath her eyes, like war paint after a battle. But she was radiant, her laughter sharp and wild, cutting through the pulsing music like a flash of neon.
“C’mon!” she yelled, tugging you toward the centre of the room where the crowd was thickest. Her grin was wide and manic, a spark of mischief in her eyes that made your chest ache with affection. You couldn’t say no to her, not when she looked like that—like the world couldn’t touch her.
The room itself was a haze of sweat, smoke, and bad decisions waiting to happen. The air was thick with the mingling scents of spilled beer, cheap cologne, and something acrid that burned your nose when you passed too close to certain groups. A strobe light pulsed erratically from one corner, painting everything in flashes of harsh white and deep shadow. It made the room feel surreal, like a dream you’d barely remember in the morning.
The house was somebody’s cousin’s or older sibling’s—or maybe it belonged to no one at all . You didn’t know, and you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were here.
She bumped her shoulder into yours, almost sending you stumbling. “You’re not drinking!” she teased, her voice pitched just loud enough to carry over the music.
You raised your cup in mock defence. “You’re spilling half of mine!”
“Then drink faster!” she shot back, her grin turning sly.
You rolled your eyes but took a chug at it anyway, grimacing at the taste. Powder just laughed, tugging you further into the chaos, her energy infectious even as you tried to keep up.
There was a moment where you’d lost her—not that you minded much. You knew she’d find her way back to you eventually. She always did.
Besides, you’d gotten a little distracted under the gaze of someone across the room. You couldn’t even remember how it started—just a fleeting glance that turned into a shared smile, which turned into them crossing the room and you deciding, what the hell, sure.
They weren’t anyone special. Someone from another school, maybe, or a senior you’d seen hanging around but never talked to. The details didn’t matter. What mattered was that their attention was fixed on you, their grin lazy and inviting as they leaned in, a hand brushing against your arm.
It was messy and awkward in the way these things always are , their mouth too eager, your coordination not quite up to par. The taste of cheap beer and stale cigarettes lingered in the kiss, and you couldn’t decide if it was your inexperience or theirs that made it feel more like bumping noses than anything romantic.
Powder would tease you mercilessly—she always did—and you’d roll your eyes and swear her to secrecy after you told her. But in the moment, you let yourself get caught up in it. The noise of the party faded to a dull hum, the kind that thrummed in the back of your head, as their hands slid to your waist.
They leaned in close, the alcohol on their breath mingling with yours as they bridged the gap, their lips brushing against yours hesitantly at first. You weren’t sure who moved first, whether it was them pulling you closer or you tilting your head to meet them. Either way, the kiss deepened quickly—too quickly—teeth clinking awkwardly at one point before you adjusted.
Their mouth was warm but clumsy, lips pressing against yours with more enthusiasm than skill, and you could feel their inexperience mirrored in your own. Their hands fumbled a little at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt like they weren’t quite sure what to do next. You tried to follow their lead, letting your hands rise to their shoulders, but your grip felt unsure, awkward.
When they tilted their head, the kiss became messier, more eager than graceful. Their lips parted against yours, warm and a little too wet, and you tried to keep up, to mimic the movements, but there was no rhythm to it—just the reckless energy of two people who didn’t know what they were doing but were too stubborn to stop.
“Really?”
The voice cut through the haze like a slap, sharp and incredulous. You broke apart immediately, turning to find Powder standing a few feet away, hands on her hips and an expression caught between disbelief and amusement.
“This is what you’re doing?” she asked, gesturing vaguely at the two of you. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
Your face flushed, embarrassment flaring hot under your skin as you stepped back, mumbling some excuse that you knew Powder wouldn’t buy. The person you’d been kissing looked equally mortified, scratching the back of their neck and mumbling a quick, “Uh, yeah, I’ll, um… see you around?” before disappearing into the crowd.
Powder’s grin widened, a strange gleam in her eyes as she sauntered up to you. “You’re so bad at that.”
“Shut up,” you muttered, pushing past her, but she caught your arm and spun you back around.
“I was serious ,” she said, her tone softening just a fraction . “Vi’s here.”
The words hit like a splash of cold water, dousing the buzz that had been warming your limbs. Your stomach dropped, and suddenly you were all too aware of the sticky heat lingering on your skin—the faint smudge of spit at the corners of your mouth, the raw sting of bites pressed too hard against your neck.
“She’s back?”
“Don’t sound too excited.”
You swiped at your lips with the back of your hand, a frantic, clumsy motion like you could erase the evidence before anyone else noticed.
Powder didn’t seem to catch you, or if she did, she didn’t comment. She just grabbed your hand and started dragging you toward the front of the house. “C’mon, we gotta go before she murders half the party looking for us.”
And murder she might. Maybe.
You could already picture her at the door, arms crossed, her expression equal parts exasperation and thinly veiled amusement. Vi had always been good at the whole “annoyed older sibling” act.
But when you saw her standing there, one shoulder propped against the doorframe, your breath caught anyway.
Vi had this way of looking like she didn’t belong anywhere but still owned the space around her. Even in the dim light of the doorway, she seemed to cut through the haze of the party with ease. The leather jacket in her hands hung loose and effortless, but it was her—bigger somehow, more solid—that made your pulse quicken. Her pink hair was shorter, darker, sharper, and something else about her seemed...different. More tattoos? A new piercing glinted on her nose, catching the light briefly before she turned her head, scanning the crowd.
She looked so good it hurt.
Or maybe you were still flustered from before. An ache was pounding deep in your stomach.
You tightened your grip on Powder’s hand, steadying yourself as you stumbled along, her swaying weight leaning into yours. The two of you were a mess—heels clicking unevenly on the tiled floor, shoulders bumping into strangers as you made your way to her. Powder looked ready to pass out, her pale green complexion doing nothing to hide the fact she’d be sick before the night was through.
Vi’s sharp gaze locked onto you both the second you came into view, her face twisting briefly in what could only be described as relief, followed quickly by annoyance. Of course, she was annoyed. She hadn’t come home from college to spend her nights wrangling her little sister and her drunk best friend from parties.
It wasn’t the first time Vi had been the one to pull you both out of the fire, though. Not even close. She had always been the responsible one—or, at least, more responsible than the rest of you. Vander’s wrath or your parents’ disappointment might’ve been enough to scare Powder and you straight for a few days, but Vi had a knack for showing up just in time to spare you from both.
Her boots crunched against the gravel outside as she walked you to the car, her jacket already draped over your shoulders by the time you made it to the front step. You always forgot yours, and she always remembered. The leather was heavy and warm, carrying the faint, clean scent of cologne mixed with something distinctly hers.
Powder, ever the louder of the two of you when drunk, sprawled across the back seat with an arm flung dramatically over her face, slurring about something neither of you could make out. Meanwhile, you sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring out the window as the blurred glow of streetlights streaked across the glass.
“Thanks for getting us,” you mumbled because Powder would never say it.
Vi glanced at you briefly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Don’t mention it.”
And that was it. The way she said it—the casual ease, the softness that bled through despite herself— it left something twisting inside you.
The first time Vi had done this, you’d only felt gratitude. But as the late-night drives stacked up, the weight of her jacket around your shoulders or the faint, grounding pressure of her hand at your back as she helped you to the car had begun to feel...different.
Powder had caught on quicker than you had. One night, lying sprawled in the back seat as she giggled into the darkness, she slurred, “You know, she only comes to get us so she can see you.”
Vi scoffed, her knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “Yeah, because I’m the only one responsible enough to drive your drunk asses home.”
But Powder’s teasing tone, the slight hitch in Vi’s voice, the way her hands flexed against the leather—it all stuck with you. You weren’t sure if it had been real or just the alcohol messing with your head.
Still, every time she came for you, it left another mark—a small, invisible stain that you couldn’t quite scrub clean.
--
You jumped a little when the basement door swung open, hitting the wall with a sharp thud. The footsteps that followed were loud, purposeful, and unmistakable.
Claggor sighed and paused his game, tugging his headphones down around his neck as he turned in his seat. You let your phone fall to your chest, craning your neck to glance over the back of the couch.
“Asshole,” Mylo muttered under his breath, not even bothering to look up. That was all the confirmation you needed to know who had just come downstairs.
Sure enough, Vi appeared, rounding the corner with a smirk that screamed trouble. On her way to the couch, she casually tugged at Mylo’s hair, earning a sharp “Hey!” as she passed. She didn’t even glance back, instead zeroing in on you and Claggor.
She stood in front of you both, her hair a bit of a mess, likely from the hat she’d been wearing earlier. You could still see the faint pink in her cheeks from the cold.
“Be honest,” she said abruptly, scissors in one hand and the other running through her tangled strands. “Should I cut my hair short again?”
You blinked, thrown off. “What?”
Her eyes stayed on you, wide and expectant, and for a moment, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.
You glanced at Claggor for backup, but he was already turning back to his game. “She’s been going on about this for weeks,” he muttered.
“Why cut it?” you asked, your brow furrowing as you looked back at her.
“It’s getting too long. Too much work,” she said, almost defensively, her fingers combing through her hair as if to prove her point.
“More like half the work,” Mylo quipped from his corner, barely hiding his smirk. “Get it? Because half your head is shaved?”
Vi shot him a glare. “Hilarious.”
You could tell she was trying not to let him derail the conversation, her attention snapping back to you. “What do you think?”
You hesitated, unsure how to answer. The scissors in her hand didn’t help; it made the question feel oddly burdened, like your opinion actually mattered more than it should.
Your mind briefly wandered to earlier that afternoon, in the front seat of Vi’s car after Powder claimed the back with her usual cheeky grin. You’d avoided looking directly at Vi, whose raised eyebrows had been impossible to ignore as she glanced at you, then at Powder. Even in that moment, you couldn’t shake the strange awareness of how close you were when she turned the heat up too high.
It was strange, wasn’t it? How she could act so normal, so at ease, while you felt like you were constantly trying to tread water, pretending not to notice the things that lingered between you. Or the things that didn’t.
“I mean… if you want it shorter, just cut it,” you said.
Her lips twitched, not quite a smirk, not quite a frown. “But will I still look good?”
“Since when do you care about that?” Claggor snorted, shaking his head.
“I’ve always cared,” Vi shot back, a hint of indignation in her voice.
“Sure,” Mylo said, not looking up from his snack. “And that whole ‘I just rolled out of bed’ look? Totally intentional, right?”
“ Mylo ,” Vi said sharply, her tone cutting through the banter.
The way she turned back to you felt purposeful, like she was waiting for your response specifically. You felt the weight of her stare, the way her gaze seemed to linger just a second too long.
“I mean…” You shrugged, hoping to brush off the tension. “You’d probably still look good with a buzzcut.”
Vi snorted, finally cracking a grin. “Now that’s an idea.”
“You’re joking, right?” Claggor said, casting a side-eye glance her way.
“Maybe.” She twirled the scissors once before dropping them onto the coffee table with a clatter. Then, to your surprise, she plopped down next to you, stretching her legs out and leaning back against the couch.
Her knee bumped yours lightly, whether by accident or on purpose, you couldn’t tell.
“You’re so weird,” you muttered under your breath, trying to refocus on your phone. But there was a lump in your throat, and the videos on your screen blurred in your mind.
Even as you kept your eyes down, the heat of her presence next to you was impossible to ignore. It felt too close. Too casual. Like none of it ever mattered to her at all.
--
You tried to ignore the way your stomach twisted—half guilt, half elation—when you heard the news. It was petty, and you hated yourself for it. The announcement had come casually, as most bombshells from Powder did, dropped without ceremony in the middle of an otherwise uneventful afternoon.
“Yeah, Vi and Caitlyn called it quits,” Powder said, her voice muffled as she rummaged through your bag in search of snacks.
You froze mid-sentence, your pencil hovering above the textbook you were pretending to study. The words didn’t register at first, too surreal to process. “What? Why?”
Powder shrugged, unbothered. “Something about Vi not being ‘present.’ Caitlyn said they’re too different.”
She popped a piece of candy into her mouth and moved on, oblivious to the way her words had ignited a storm inside you. Your heart raced, an uncontrollable, traitorous thing, and hope flickered somewhere deep in your chest.
It burned too bright and too fast, like a spark catching dry kindling. You tried to snuff it out before it could grow. It wasn’t fair—least of all to Vi.
But it was hard. Harder still when you saw Vi after you heard the news. She was different then. Softer in some ways, quieter. The razor-sharp edge you remembered had dulled, replaced by a weight she carried in her eyes and the tension she held in her shoulders.
She’d laugh and talk with Vander, Mylo, and Claggor, her walls momentarily lowered in the safety of family. You’d catch glimpses of the old Vi then, the one who teased Powder mercilessly and made terrible puns at the dinner table.
On rare occasions, she’d join you, Ekko and Powder in the living room. Powder had a knack for pulling everyone together, dragging you into the fray whether you wanted to be there or not . The four of you would sprawl across the faded, mismatched couches, watching movies or swapping stories like you used to.
Vi usually lingered on the edges, her presence quiet but unmistakable. She didn’t say much, but her gaze would wander, drifting to you when she thought you weren’t paying attention. It was subtle at first —a flicker of her eyes when you laughed too loudly or wrinkled your nose at one of Ekko’s awful jokes. But once you noticed, you couldn’t unsee it.
Sometimes, during movie nights, the couch would become too crowded, and her leg would press against yours. The warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of your jeans would send your mind spiralling, no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself it meant nothing. She was just sitting there, just existing beside you.
But you knew better. You knew because her faint smile when she caught you snorting at something ridiculous lingered too long. Because the way her eyes softened when Powder teased you felt too deliberate. Because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that she didn’t mean anything, it was a lie you could never fully believe.
And you hated yourself for it.
But more than that, you hated the way you couldn’t stop hoping.
--
You liked to think you were a handy person—decent with a wrench, quick to come up with ideas—but in comparison to Powder, you didn’t stand much of a chance. She wasn’t just handy; she was an artist with gears and circuits. You’d sketch out a vague plan, and she’d take it, run with it, and create something brilliant. That was why the two of you worked so well together: you dreamed, and she built.
The garage smelled like metal and grease, the air cold enough to make your breath fog. You tugged your sleeves down over your hands, shivering slightly as you handed Powder the screwdriver she’d been reaching for.
“Thanks,” she said without looking up, her blue hair glowing faintly under the harsh light of the overhead lamp. She was hunched over her latest college project—a tangle of wires and gears that looked more like a puzzle than a machine.
You scribbled something in your notebook, half notes and half doodles, glancing up every so often to watch her work. This was how most of your “girls’ nights” went: sitting in the garage, Powder building something while you brainstormed or provided moral support. It was the most comfortable kind of silence.
“What is this thing supposed to do again?” you asked, leaning closer to inspect her progress.
“It’s, uh... complicated,” Powder replied, biting her lip as she fiddled with a circuit board. “Basically, it’s gonna make stuff explode, but, like, in a controlled way.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Controlled explosions. Totally safe.”
She laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m a professional. Sort of.”
The two of you fell into an easy rhythm—her working, you passing tools or holding pieces in place when she needed an extra set of hands. It felt good to have something to focus on, something to do with your hands to keep them from trembling.
But as the minutes ticked by, the silence started to stretch, your thoughts creeping in to fill the gaps. You glanced at Powder, her face scrunched in concentration and felt the words bubbling up before you could stop them.
“Powder,” you said hesitantly.
“Mm?” She didn’t look up, her hands steady as she twisted a screw into place.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you something...”
She finally glanced at you, her wide eyes curious. “Yeah? What’s up?”
You hesitated, your heart pounding. “It’s about Vi.”
“Oh.” Powder’s expression shifted into something wary, but she still looked amused. “I think I might know where this is going.”
“You do?”
“You’ve noticed she’s been a real dick lately, yeah?”
You want to nod but Vi has always been a real pain in the ass.
“It’s because she’s been hanging out with Caitlyn again.”
That was nowhere near what you were expecting to hear.
“What?”
“Yeah, something about Caitlyn helping her find a new job or something.”
“Oh,” you said, your throat tightening. “That’s... nice of her.”
“I guess. But you know I’ve never liked her much. She makes Vi act out all the time. It’s weird. You know what she said to me the other day? She said I should focus on stuff that matters, like my ‘actual life,’ whatever that means.” Powder rolled her eyes, her voice taking on a mocking tone. “‘Stop blowing things up, Powder. Stop wasting your time, Powder.’ Something about me being worth more than that or whatever. Like she’s one to talk.”
You forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to your own ears. “She’s just worried about you.”
“Yeah, well, she’s got a crappy way of showing it.” Powder’s hands stilled for a moment, her expression clouding over. “She doesn’t even tell me what’s going on with her anymore. She just... disappears, and when she does show up, she acts like she’s got everything figured out. It’s so annoying. I mean, yeah, they ended on good terms or whatever, but she’s just... spreading a bad vibe around.”
You smiled weakly. “Bad vibe?”
“You know the vibe. It’s obviously bothering you since you brought it up.”
You didn’t stop to tell her that wasn’t what you’d meant.
“Oh, my god,” she added, setting down her tools. “And did you know Caitlyn’s with Maddie now?”
“Maddie? From fucking high school?”
“Yeah, isn’t that crazy?”
“What the hell?”
“Right? That’s what I said! And Vi’s been all moody about it too. See what I mean? Caitlyn brings nothing but trouble.”
You couldn’t help but wonder how much Powder knew about what was going on with Vi. There had been so many blanks in the last few months that you were struggling to put everything together.
“I think Vi’s just mad that her sorry ass got dumped,” Powder added, shrugging.
“What?”
“You never heard this from me though. Vi would kill me if she found out I kill you of all people but... she was seeing someone last summer—she didn’t tell me who—and then it just stopped. She’s been an asshole since. A bigger asshole than she used to be. Serves her right.” Powder grinned, her tone light despite the sting of her words. “And yeah, it’s harsh, but I can say it because she’s my sister.”
You looked away, guilt clawing at your insides. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Powder glanced back at you. “Anyway, did you want to tell me something?”
Your heart stuttered, the weight of your unspoken thoughts pressing down on you like a heavy hand. You opened your mouth, the words trembling on the tip of your tongue, a silent dare you couldn’t quite take. What if this moment shattered, splintered into something jagged and irreparable?
“Uh, yeah,” you said finally, your voice more breathless than you intended. “Just wanted to say thanks for inviting me for the holidays.”
Powder frowned, turning to you fully, “What are you talking about? You always spend Christmas with us.”
You forced a laugh, scratching the back of your neck. “I know. I know, it’s just...” The words tangle themselves in your throat. You screw your eyes shut for a moment, decided to be honest at least. She deserved at least that. “Ever since college started, I feel like I haven’t been the greatest friend in the world.”
“What are y—”
“You know it’s true,” you interrupted, the words rushing out in a jumble as if you might lose the courage to say them if you hesitated. “I haven’t called half as much, and I keep making excuses. It’s not that I don’t want to see you, it’s just... I don’t know.”
Powder set the screwdriver down, her blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not ,” you insisted, the crack in your voice betraying the guilt you’d carried for so long.
“It is ,” she said firmly, her voice taking on the same determined edge she used when defending her inventions from criticism. “Don’t you remember how I used to lash out when high school started? You put up with so much shit from me back then.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the turn in the conversation. “Yeah.”
“Man, I was fucking psycho,” she continued with a wry grin, leaning back on her hands.
“I wouldn’t say that,” you replied, the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips.
“I would,” she said, laughing softly. “I’m surprised you’re still friends with me after all that. I would’ve dumped me in a heartbeat.”
“Of course I’m still friends with you,” you said. “I love you, Pow.”
She tilted her head, her expression softening into something warm and familiar. “Love you too.”
For a moment, the weight in your chest eased, the tension unravelling as her laughter echoed through the garage. Maybe someday, you’d find the right moment to tell her the rest of it—the things you couldn’t bring yourself to say now. Maybe after a drink or two for courage, when the words wouldn’t stick so hard in your throat, you’d tell her everything. And maybe she’d laugh, the same bright, fearless laugh that always pulled you back from the edge.
But not now. Not yet.
part two
#this is so toxic#vi’s gauntlets#arcane#arcane x reader#vi x reader#arcane fluff#arcane vi#arcane imagines#arcane headcanon#vi arcane#vi fluff#arcane fanfic#vi x you#vi arcane x reader#arcane x female reader#tattoo artist vi#wlw fanfic#vi league of legends#violet arcane#vi#arcane vi x reader#vi arcane smut#vi fanfic#vi smut#vi fanart#league of legends#arcane smut#league of legends smut#vi x y/n#faye’s writing ⭑.ᐟ
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Not Strong Enough
Summary: Rule number 1 of being best friends with a vampire. Never let them drink your blood.
an: I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME IM SORRY!! This took entirely too long to get to you guys, but it’s here now! Better late than never right?? Is this heavily inspired by twilight? Yes. Did I use a BoyGenius song as the title? It’s lesbian smut, obviously. Is Ellie going to be a brooding depressed vampire? Oh hell yeah. I hope you all like this! I’m a slut for anything supernatural so this was obvi very fun for me to write. As always, love you all so so much! Thanks for reading 🤍
Warnings: SMUT!!, MDNI!!, scissoring (if ur mad I’m doing another scissoring fic….idk what to tell you it’s hot), messy kissing, Ellie bites reader (outside of blood sucking), mentions of marking, mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, Ellie is kind of insufferable for a small bit but I promise it gets better, please lmk if I missed anything!
Read part 1 here!!
Ellie knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.
She knew that she was too weak for you, even outside of sucking your blood. You were too fucking good for her, too much of a dream for Ellie to go and fuck up like she did.
Truth be told, Ellie expected all of it. She expected to get utterly addicted to you, she expected the blurred lines of your relationship to become even more blurred when she began sucking you dry of your life source, she even expected herself to lose control when she was in the act, humping and grinding your soft body like a wild fucking animal as if she had no control over herself.
She expected all of it, every single aspect that came with the territory, she knew was coming.
But the hardest part of it all? Was leaving you completely.
Because she knew the moment she felt herself lose control while she was on top of you that night in your apartment, she knew she needed to leave you. She needed to abandon you and your friendship for the greater good, for your sake.
Ellie knew that she wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for her. But that didn’t make the pain of not seeing you any less.
She thought she’d be able to do it at first, but the texts from you only reminded her of how much she loved your company, how obsessed she was with simply being around you.
She wound frown every time her phone went off, a low groan leaving her lips when she lifted it up to look at her screen, only to see it was from you.
Ellieeeeee
Where are you?
Haven’t seen u in the longest :((
Ellie can practically hear your pout in the way you text her. She knows you too well, and she knows that you aren’t handling her sudden disappearance well.
At this point, it’s been about two months since Ellie has seen you last? Maybe three? She stopped keeping count because it was driving her insane. It wasn’t even the blood supply that she missed, Ellie would go hungry ten times over, dying from starvation if it meant she could be around you without feeling she was robbing you of your life, ruining things that you were meant to experience because she was too fucking selfish.
Ellie misses you, and it pains her that she hasn’t been able to have you in so long.
Well…not entirely at least. She knew she’d lose her mind entirely if she couldn’t at least be around you for a few moments, so her usual nighttime visits become a bit more frequent when she decides she can’t be around you anymore. She’s a lot more careful when she does it though, knowing how sensitive you were to her presence. It was almost unbelievable how easily you’d woken up to her in your room in the past. She doesn’t know how she’d explain things if you woke up now, not having seen her in so long. So she’s extra aware of how much noise she makes.
Seeing you sleep is almost enough to keep Ellie’s demons at bay, the ones that screamed for you, yearned for you to be by her side, to have your warm skin pressed against her much colder one.
As per usual, she’s scaling up the brick wall of your apartment building, making her way up to your bedroom like thief in the night. You continue to leave your window open every night, and it breaks Ellie’s heart because she knows you’re doing it for her, most likely hoping she slips into your window as she usually does.
It means Ellie needs to be even more careful than she anticipated.
She doesn’t even dare to sit on your bed, standing in the corner of your room as she watches your chest rise and fall. She doesn’t even breathe, scared that the sound of it will wake you.
And she desperately wants to reach out and let her fingers run along your soft skin, desperate for the feeling that you always brought her when you’re near. It makes her fists balk at her sides as she practically itches to feel you, fighting back any and every thought that she had to touch you, if even for a moment.
But she doesn’t. Instead, he stays with you just before the sun rises. She knows it’s risky, and she knows she shouldn’t do it in the event that you wake up and see her. Even if she’s fast enough to dart out of your room before you can even call her name or turn the lights on, you’re too smart for that. You’d know what was happening before she can even begin to gaslight you into thinking it was simply a dream.
She can’t help herself, not when it comes to you. Seeing you sleep satisfies the burning feeling in her chest, the one that yearns so desperately for you, it’s enough to make her knees weak. It’s almost like you’re capable of evoking the same feelings she had when she was a human, when she was weak and stupid and felt nervous around women. Until you showed up, Ellie hadn’t experienced those feelings in a long time, she’d almost forgotten about them.
You always remind her though.
Like when she’s about to leave you, knowing she’s cutting it too close to the time you’re going to wake up and start your day. Her footsteps are practically silence, even against the old, creaky floorboards of your apartment.
She’s almost out of your window, one leg outside as she plants her foot against the fire escape when she hears it. You began mumbling in your sleep, tossing a bit, clearly bothered by whatever dream you were having. While this should’ve been the clearest sign for Ellie to leave as quickly as possible before your eyes opened a bit to see her, she doesn’t. Instead, she stays sat on your window sill, simply watching as you turn to face her, eyes still closed as you pout in your sleep.
If Ellie had a heart that was still beating, she’s sure it would’ve stopped. Because suddenly your mumbling is just clear enough for her to hear.
“Ellie….” You sigh out softly, barely loud enough for the undead girl to hear, but she does. Regardless of the city waking up below her, or the sound of your ceiling fan creaking about, she hears it. It makes her frown deeply, swallowing back the intense whimper that threatens to escape and echo throughout your room.
She isn’t sure if she’s ever left your room so quickly, the girls eyes going wide as she made the familiar path down the side of your building to your side walk.
Even when she got home that night, the vampire practically breaking the front door down of her apartment to get in, she couldn’t get the sound of your voice uttering her name so sweetly, calling out for her even in the depths of sleep that you were in, tugged so deeply by your dreams, you were still calling out for her.
Ellie knew that night, that she had to stay away from her. For both your sake, and her own.
And she’s right, because you were suffering just as much as Ellie was.
Ellie’s presence was always scarce, and while it bothered you a bit before you learned what she was, it made sense. She was a creature of the night, something that seemingly only existed in storybooks, coming to life and living the strange lifestyle that she did.
But you knew immediately that this was different.
The morning after you saw Ellie last left a bitter taste in your mouth. As you woke up that morning, your neck sore with the bruises of Ellie’s lips on your skin, body far too drained and tired even after a night of a sleep that was just a bit too deep. It was similar to almost all the times Ellie had drank from you the night prior.
So, why did you feel so bad that morning?
You knew that you didn’t owe Ellie anything, that you were the one to suggest this in the first place, so there truly wasn’t any room for you to be upset for reasons unknown. What were you even supposed to say to her? That you had a weird feeling? One that you desperately wanted her to relieve by telling you it was all okay?
As much as you wanted to, you knew things between you and Ellie weren’t like that.
You were her friend. You were just her friend, and as much as you wanted more, you knew deep down that if Ellie truly wanted you that way, she would’ve made you she’s a long time ago.
And maybe that’s what bothers you the most when this little dry spell occurs, because the sudden lack of her presence leaves you entirely too much time to dwell on things, wondering what it was that you did wrong, what you could have possibly said to create this sudden rift between the two of you.
Ellie had always been flirtatious, flashing that pretty smile in your direction that made you weak in the knees, calling you sweet names that made your heart beat faster. She was practically dangling it all right in front of your face, the frequent touches, the late night visits at the foot of your bed, all this time when you have her the benefit of the doubt, chalking it all up to her simply wanting to see you and nothing more than that, suddenly made no sense to you.
With time came confusion, and with confusion came anger, desperate to understand why she left you, what you had done to possibly make her so scarce so suddenly. And once the third month had hit without seeing Ellie, you were furious, feeling as though you had one choice and one choice only.
To find Ellie, and get the answers from her yourself.
You don’t go to Ellie’s apartment, not usually at least.
Ellie always told you she liked hanging out at your place, going on and on about how warm and cozy it was being there. She’d never admit it to you because she didn’t want you to think she was a freak, but being in a place that smelled so heavily like you made her brain go absolutely insane.
You’ve been there maybe a handful of times, sometimes heading to her place after a night out, or even stopping by whenever you were in the neighborhood. Bottom line was, your apartment was the designated hang out spot for you and Ellie.
Regardless though, you remember how to get there like it’s written on the back of your hand. You thought about Ellie’s apartment a lot, loving how much the space reflected her. You always wished you had the chance to stay there more often.
You can’t think about that though, not now. Not when you’re storming down the expensive halls of her complex down to her door, and landing a heavy fist on the door. All you can truly care about now, is seeing Ellie and demanding an explanation for her sudden disappearance.
And it’s all so unlike you, so out of your character. If it was anyone else, you’d let it go, giving yourself a few days to sulk before forgetting about it all together and simply moving on. Maybe it’s because it’s Ellie, and maybe it’s because you feel a tad bit used after being her personal buffet for the last few times you’d been around her, just for her to up and leave.
It’s most definitely that. You just don’t want to admit it in fears of sounding selfish.
You land another firm knock on her door when she doesn’t answer in time, feeling yourself grow angrier as the moments pass.
Soon, she’s finally opening the door. The image of her nearly takes your breath away.
Because Ellie always looks beautiful, perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t seen her in some time, but she looks fucking ethereal standing before you. So tall, so confident, her eyes so fucking dark, piercing through your very soul as she stares down at you. Her lips look like rubies compared to her cold, pale skin, so plump and kissable.
All you can think about is the way they felt pressed against your throat, and it makes you lift your hand to press against the two small circular scars on your neck.
Ellie frowns deeply as she eyes you, eyebrows furrowed and expression virtually unreadable.
“What are you doing here” she mumbles out, shifting on her feet awkwardly. Her question alone sets the fire off in your chest again, making you seethe as you take a deep inhale before responding.
“Are you kidding me Ellie?” You practically spit out, staring up at the girl in disbelief.
She lets out a soft sigh, her tattooed hand coming up to rub her face roughly before it moves up to rub through her hair.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she manages before she tries shutting her door in your face. “You can’t be here” she mumbles out softly, the girl fully expecting to be able to shut the door.
You however, have other plans.
You’re quick to press your hand against the door, stopping her from closing it before you practically force yourself between it. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit at this, not used to seeing you so forward.
Soon, you’re pushing yourself into her apartment, your palm pressing against your forehead as you began pacing back and forth Ellie’s lavish apartment.
“I don’t…I don’t understand you Ellie. Is it something I said? Did I do something? If so please enlighten me I beg you” you blurt out, all of the words fumbling out of your mouth in one breath.
Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you pace back and forth her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed. She can truly see the damaged shes caused when she sees you like this, because it was much easier to watch you when you slept, so peaceful and unaware of the troubles that came with her absence. She knew you were going to blame yourself, and as much as she knew she couldn’t allow you to do that to yourself, she knew staying away was even more important.
Seeing you like this was possibly the hardest thing Ellie had to ever endure.
You don’t stop there, taking advantage of the lack of a response from Ellie to continue ranting.
“Is it because of the blood thing? If so I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for simply caring enough to make sure you didn’t die from starvation or whatever it is that happens to you when you don’t eat. I’m sorry for making sure that you were okay, if that was so wrong please tell me…” your words trail off as you let out an exasperated sigh, your feelings and emotions becoming far too much as you practically sob out to her.
But then you’re pausing, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggle to catch your breath. Ellie isn’t entirely sure why you’ve suddenly stopped, your back towards her as you stand there, doing god knows what.
When you finally turn around, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.
“Were you just….using me? As your personal fucking blood bag?” Your words are shaky as you hold back another sob, your fists balled down at your sides.
Ellie freezes when you say this, because this is exactly what she was fucking afraid of.
It was a common theme throughout…her people. Vampires were notoriously alluring, seducing countless innocent and clueless victims into being their personal meal. The humans were almost always oblivious to what was being done to them, vampires often times using this to their advantage to keep them under their spell for as long as possible. It would most commonly been done in a way that made the humans believe the vampires loved them, dangling them by a thread as they promised them a life of eternity together, to live in immortality, side by side until the end of times. It almost never ended that way though, the vampires would suck and suck and suck until one day they went a bit too far, and their obedient human keeled over and died.
Ellie never wanted things to be that way with you.
She never even wanted you to think it was that way. She wanted you to understand that this was entirely up to you, and it could stop whenever you wanted it to. It’s why she constantly voiced to you that this was still a factor right before she fed off of you. Ellie would rather die than use you for a source of food, because truthfully you were far too good for that, too fucking pure to be used as something as low as a food source.
So when the words leave your lips, Ellie sees red.
Shes in front of you in less than a second, towering over you and staring down into your tear soaked eyes. Her nostrils are flared as she tries to hold back from tearing down her entire apartment complex around the both of you.
“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think I’d ever use you for something so low..” her voice is low, and there’s a gravel in it that makes your core tighten and your chest bloom with something you can’t quite place, a feeling that can only be shelved in your mind right next to where Ellie takes place.
You don’t hack one, hot tears continuing to spill from your eyes as you stare at her with furrowed eyebrows.
“It makes sense….get your fix and then leave me like I’m nothing…this was probably your plan all along” you grit out.
Ellie licks her lips, knowing that you’re hurting just as much as she is, and your words are simply coming from a place of confusion, desperate to understand why she did what she did to you, why she left without a trace.
She leans in, her face a mere inches from yours. You can smell her minty breath wafting onto your face, and it’s bizarre because even that has a slight chill to it. It makes your cheeks cold, and it makes you want to reach out and warm her up.
“I would rather die a million deaths before using you for that…you and I both know this” she seethes out.
And it makes you whimper, because Ellie’s always been so fucking intense, so poetic. It makes your insides flip upside down, and your eyebrows knit together as you struggle to hold back a whimper.
Your features soften as you continue to cry in front of her. “Then why did you leave me…” you whisper out to the girl.
It breaks her heart how desperate you are for this. Not even for her, but simply for answers. All you want is to understand why she left, what you did to make her abruptly disappear without a single word.
Ellie’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, her pink tongue darting out to lick her plush lips before she finally speaks.
“I’ve never…been so weak for someone…in my entire life” she breaths out.
It surely isn’t what you’re expecting her to say. You think she’s going to say she’s gotten enough of you, or she just couldn’t handle having someone like you around. Hell, you were even beginning to think she was trying to cover up all her roots here and start somewhere else.
“I always have been…from the moment I fucking laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t good for me…you’re too good for me” she continues, her eyes fluttering open as she finally stares down into yours. You can finally look into yours as you blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision, and it allows you to see the pain in her eyes, just how much she’d been struggling with all of this.
“It isn’t even your blood…it made it worse, yes…but just being around you is like…it’s like a fucking drug to me. You give me this feeling that I can’t…I can’t even begin to describe how fucking euphoric you make me feel” each of her words sounds like a plea, a plea for you to let her go, to unhand her from the death grip you have on her.
“And suddenly I’m always in your apartment, and you’re offering yourself to me and it’s like a dream come true and I feel like a fucking monster when I’m on top of you, sucking you dry of your fucking blood” it’s her turn to start pacing, running her hands through her hair as she settles one of her hands on her hip, she moves slower than you were, simply voicing the struggles she’s seemed to have with you from the moment you met.
She finally turns towards you, and she’s slowing make her way to where you’ve been standing this entire time. When she’s right back where she was, stood right in front of you, she takes your hand into hers ever so gently. It’s enough to make you flinch, how cold she is in contrast to your hot skin. She sighs, bringing your hand up to cradle her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut, nearly rolling back as she presses a soft kiss to your palm.
“I’m not strong enough for you…I don’t think I ever will be” she finally admits, and it’s like she’s not only admitting it to you, but to herself as well.
You hold back a whine as she kisses your palm, her lips so soft, so gentle with you.
“Then…then don’t be…why can’t you just let things happen” you sigh out as you stare up at her, in awe as the girl leaned into your touch as if it were her life line.
You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re asking her for, what this so called ‘thing’ is that she won’t let happen. Is it the feeding you’re alluding to? An act of true platonic kindness? Or are you asking for more, are you begging for something that Ellie has deprived you both of for the sake of the greater good?
Both you and Ellie have these same questions running through your minds.
She chuckles dryly against your skin, shaking her head as her hand gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.
“You aren’t even sure what it is you’re asking for…not from someone like me” she admits, eyes opening as she finally looks down at you again.
“I can’t…give you the things you deserve. I’m not capable of being the perfect person for you, not when I am what I am” her words are like venom on her tongue, the girl utterly disgusted with the monster that she became against her own will, the hell that she was forced to live over and over again with no foreseeable end.
“The only thing I can do, is take from you…I take and take and take….” Her words trail off, a soft frown on her lips before she finally looks at you once again.
“Until I’ve taken everything that you have…and there is no more of you to offer” she whispers out, as if the mere thought of a world without you pains her so much to say, she barely wants to say it.
You lick your lips, your eyes searching hers before you quickly shake your head.
“Do you want me? The same way that I want you?” You question carefully, fearful of what it is that she might say, worried that you’d been reading things entirely wrong, even after Ellie basically confessed how utterly obsessed she is with you.
She smirks softly, humming lowly as she gently brings your hand down to her lips, pressing another gentle kiss to it.
“It’s like I’ve waited my entire life for you, baby….saying that I want you would be an understatement” she chuckles out softly.
And you aren’t entirely sure how it even gets to this point, because you marched over to Ellie’s apartment with a purpose, that purpose being to yell at her and get the answers you deserved. But suddenly you’re standing in front of her, and your heart is exploding with so many different emotions and feelings, all of them for Ellie, and she’s just confessed to you that she wants you like you want her.
And you have no choice, but to kiss her.
It catches Ellie off guard, a soft whine leaving her lips as accepts your lips with gratitude, her arms moving down to drape along your waist as she pulls you closer.
It’s everything she’s ever dreamt it would be. Your lips soft and sweet against her own, your skin so warm and inviting, making her drink you up, fueling her with the warmth she’s lacked since the day she died. But despite how good it feels, she knows this is wrong, and it goes against everything she said she’d do for your sake.
Ellie breaks way first, watching as you struggle to catch your breath from the intense kiss. She’s quick to stop you from leaning in again, her hand cupping your face as she stares into your eyes.
“Angel…we can’t…I told you, I’m no good for you” she sighs out, the words paining her to even say.
You give her a soft pout, your arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely as you press your warm body against hers.
“I trust you Ellie….I know that you’d never hurt me” you sigh out softly as you stare into her eyes, your hand coming up to tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.
“We don’t have to do the blood thing…but I just…can’t we just give us a try?” Your eyes are wide as you speak, eager to feel Ellie’s lips against yours again, even if for a moment. You don’t even take into consideration that she could say no, that she could turn you around and throw you out of her apartment without another word, doubling down on what she said she’d do with you.
But as Ellie said before, she’s just too fucking weak for you.
And hearing you ask for it, ask for her, it has her stomach in knots, and she feels like no matter what it is you ask her, she couldn’t possibly say no to you.
“What are you doing to me…” she sighs softly before she leans in to kiss you again, reciprocating the passion and heat that you gave her mere moments ago. You whine against her, your hands sliding back to tug at her hair, keeping her close as your lips moves against hers, your warm tongue sliding against hers.
“Missed you so much…” you sigh against her, and it makes Ellie groan softly as she nods, hands sliding down to grip your waist as she walks you back towards her bedroom, lips never leaving yours.
“Missed you more than anything, angel” she mumbles against your lips as she presses her palm against her bedroom door behind you, pushing it open and leading you further inside.
Ellie’s bedroom smells like her. It’s dark, and cold but oh so comforting. You practically sigh against her lips when you feel her laying your body down against her black silk sheets, the expensive material like butter on your skin. It makes your senses go in overdrive, Ellie’s hands caressing your skin, roaming around your body as her tongue rubs against yours in a dirty, passionate kiss.
“Don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this…” she sighs softly, her lips breaking away from yours to kiss along your jaw, down to your throat. You don’t miss the way Ellie kisses the now faded marks of her teeth on your neck, licking the skin softly before she sucks into it, sure to leave dark marks in the morning.
“Missed marking you up baby….” She hums against you, drinking in the sweet moans that leave your mouth, the sound alone like music to her ears.
Your mind is fuzzy, almost blank besides the thoughts of Ellie that stood in the forefront of your brain. It was like she was filling you up entirely, making you almost overwhelmed with her. Her scent, her cold skin, her soft hands, all of it was almost too much, a combination of sensory overload that kissed your skin so deliciously.
Soon she’s kissing down your body, practically worshiping her as her lips work on your soft skin. Her hands are pushing up your t-shirt, kissing your stomach and your ribcage until she’s tugging you up a bit to skillfully slip your shirt over your head. You’re bare before her, her lips matching onto your pebbled nipples as her tattooed hands work on your soft shorts, tugging them down your legs.
You don’t miss the way her tongue swirls around your nipple before letting go with a pop, lips moving up to nip at your collar bone with her flat teeth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but gentle enough to not break skin.
You giggle softly, bending your legs back to help as she tugs your shorts and panties off. She’s slotting herself between your legs, humming softly as she gives you a smirk.
“Something funny baby?” She questions before leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod, a dreamy smile on your lips as you bring your hand down to tug at the hem of Ellie’s t-shirt.
“Seems like old habits never die, that’s all….need this off” you huff out softly, fingers fumbling between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweats.
Ellie chuckles at how eager you are before she nods, pulling back to tug her shirt off before she rolls over a bit to pull off her sweats and underwear as well before she makes her way back between your legs, towering over you as she crawls into you like a predator would its prey.
And it leaves your pussy soaking wet, because it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. Ellie’s tits are pebbled similarly to yours, tattoos littering her pretty skin, muscles so beautiful they could make your mouth fucking water.
You’d always seen Ellie for the beauty she possessed…but this? This was so much more different.
It made your head fucking spin.
You whined softly as you practically tug her into her by her shoulders, moaning softly at the feeling of her boobs squishing against yours as your mouth attacks her in a needy kiss.
“Want you…” you sigh softly against her as your hand slides down between the both of you, cupping her pussy. You feel Ellie suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm fingers against her sopping wet core, and she gives you an eager nod before rolling over, her strong hands gripping your thighs and taking you with her as she forces you to straddle her.
Being on top of Ellie is just as good as being under her, almost better in all honesty. The lighting in her bedroom is dim, but you can just make out her features with the moonlight that spills in through her big windows, and the moody lights she has set up along her walls. You don’t even realize it because you’re too busy gawking at her, but she lifts her leg up a bit and easily slots you down so that your pussy is right against hers, the feeling making you moan softly.
“You’re so pretty Ellie…” you practically sigh out. It makes Ellie moan softly, and she swears the sound of you calling her pretty is enough to bring her back to life, reversing the effects of her undead state.
“Fuck…can’t say those things to me baby…you’re gonna…Jesus..ruin me” she struggles to get out as she grips your hips, forcing you to roll your hips so that your clit and her clit bumps against each other.
Your eyes flutter shut when you feel it. It’s so fucking wet, and soft, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure you’d done it with other girls before, but this just feels…it almost feels like….
“Like you were fucking made for me princess” Ellie grits out, her teeth caging her words in as she fucks you down onto her pussy, practically using you for both hers and your pleasure.
You’re too far gone to pick up on it, too indulged in the feeling of Ellie’s strong hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, sure to leave marks in their shape when you both wake up in the morning.
Your back is arching almost painfully, your hand gripping her thigh as you find the rhythm Ellie has set for you, finding the perfect spot and keeping it there as you drive both you and her to your orgasms.
“I’m…Ellie you feel so good…you’re gonna make me cum” you squeak out, eyebrows furrowed as you finally look down at the girl beneath you, only to find that she’s just as much of a mess as you are. Her hair is messy and her lips look so pouty and kissable. It’s hard to make out, but her fanged teeth are pressing into her lips, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your entire life.
She gives you an encouraging nod, one of her hands coming to your ass and kneading it harshly before giving it a firm spank, the sinful noise echoing off the walls of her pristine bedroom.
“I know baby…I know…come on, want you to cum with me…that’s it…that’s my good girl” her praises make your chest burn, and it leaves knots in your stomach. It only drives you further, your hips moving faster as they roll against Ellie’s, desperately chasing both hers and your orgasm.
“Ellie…Ellie I’m…I’m gonna-“ you cry out, back arching as you grip her thighs quickly, feeling your own shake as your orgasm begins washing over you.
Ellie catches it right before it happens, the girl quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around your body, pressing your chest against hers as she pulls you down to kiss her passionately, her own orgasm washing over her like a fucking train.
Your bodies are so in tune, so in sync that your moans almost mix to create a symphony that can only be described as love, total and unconditional love as her arms keep you close, as if stopping you from running away from her, from the feeling she gives you. Her lips are working against yours as you breath hard, struggling to catch your breath in the sloppy kiss.
You’re a whining mess, your poor pussy far too sensitive to deal with the amount of pleasure that Ellie brought to you, all of it washing over you like an intense sea of euphoria, nearly drowning you as you held onto the girl with weak hands.
She knows you’re weak, because she’s pulling you down to rest your warm body against her cool sheets, all while keeping her cool body pressed against yours to bring you back down to earth with her.
“That’s it baby…I know….did so good for me…” she sighs softly as she leaves gentle kisses against your cheeks and eyes, watching as the aftermath of your orgasm slowly pulls you to the depths of sleep, all of it too much on your body.
“My beautiful girl…my girl…my girl…” she hums out, almost like a song as she watches you cling to her in your sleep, soft hums and huffs leaving your lips, all of which makes Ellie smile adoringly at you as she holds you while you sleep.
And even while you’re settling into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever experienced, you don’t miss the soft kisses against your lips and cheeks, all paired with the constant, non stop praises from Ellie.
You especially don’t miss the way she leans in settles against the pillow next to you, mumbling the softest, sweetest words to you as her hands caressing your naked body.
“I love you, pretty girl..”
#ellie williams smut#ellie williams#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie tlou#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x y/n#ellie the last of us#ellie x you
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Muse
rockstar!ellie x reader
warnings : SMUT!!, no to consentement (happened with a men ellie saved us), alcohol, ✂️✂️✂️, swearing, age gab? (ellie be like 2-3 years older), thigh riding (r ! receiving), fingering (r ! receiving)
idk if thats all but i worked hard on this one 😜
enjoy!!
—
“Cmonnnnn we’re gonna be late!!”
“not my fault you took 2 hours in the shower?”
you and your bestfriend were getting ready for that little concert that was in your city. it was so rare you had finally something fun to do, and the best part of it, is that your favourite band was gonna be there. you were so excited to go there, but your bestfriend was just making you nervous, in the worst way ever.
you had a denim mini skirt with a lace crop top in black with some leather jacket, classic ‘rockstar girlfriend’ outfit if you’d search it on pinterest. but, it was a rock show anyways, so you were fitting in that vibe.
you had a little smug eyeliner with some star glitter around your eyes. your best friend has some too. exited by the fact that you two were matching like some 13 years old teenagers.
“okay, im ready”
“about time!! now come on, i dont wanna arrive while its crowded, wanna have the best view” she tells you while bringing you outside towards her car
“girl did you know my fav band are gonna be here??”
“ugh omg you said it at least one thousand times…” she sighs
“okay okay, will you be less annoyed when i tell you they look like this :” you said as you showed her the guitarists and the singer. they were 3 and your age. absolutely gorgeous people.
“YOOOOOOOOO!!!” Layla said, looking at the picture of the three bend’s members.
“rightttt?!!!”
“okay but look at the men?”
“his name is Jesse, one of the guitarist. currently dating the other guitarist” you informed her, for only her smile dropping at the deception.
“look, thats the singer” you continue “her name’s Ellie, and shes SO fucking hot, and shes gay”
“lesbian?” she asks you while she starts driving towards the location for tonight.
“yeah, literally everyone who listen to their music is because all the fans envy her. i dont blame them tho”
“what about the other guitarist?” she asks you, now interested in them
“Its Dina, Ellie’s ex”
“WHAAAAAT ??? nowayyyy”
you two laugh at the drama you shared to layla. it was funny gossiping and her finally showing some interest in what you liked.
-
arrived there, it was already crowded. nobody was on stage yet, but it was definitely bigger than you expected.
you friend touched your shoulder, knowing how much noisy places made you so uncomfortable.
“what aboouuuuuut we get VIP tickets for a quieter place mhh?”
“Layla? its too expensive i cant afford that, ill just- support it” you tell her, looking at your phone trying to distract yourself
“too late babe i bought us some” she says, looking at you with the biggest smile. eyes disappearing and teeth showing. She was your sunshine.
“whaaat? you shouldn’t have- im gonna repay you when i can okay?”
“nuh huh, its our night and my gift, okay?”
you nod and smile, worries erased by her gentle smile.
it was true, it was you guy’s night, and no anxiety would take that away.
In the VIP room, there was mostly middled aged men with some really young, but beautiful girls in their company. all already wasted. from here, you could be so close to the stage you thought if the artists would be close enough, you could touch them. you also had access to the backstage, which was an insane opportunity.
some normal people, like your age hanging out with people their age were also in the VIP. it was less awkward with all of those creepy men probably were ‘sugar daddies’
“im gonna grab us a drink ill be back, yeah?” layla whisper-screams in your ears then vanishes to the bar.
you look around you, analyzing the people. then get on your phone, just to seem lees alone.
“Hey you gorgeous lady, would you mind some company?” a raspy voice said
you look towards the voice and see a men, probably 25 years old, but obviously drunk and maybe also high.
“i already have company, but thanks” you said, gently, not wanting anything to happen.
“oh, but i dont see anyone babygirl…” he said as he leaned closer to you while you backed off a little.
his eyes widen, completely surprised by your non interested move.
“im not gonna bite youuu, only if you ask me to” he says and winks at you while touching your arm, going closer and closer to your breast.
“um.. no thanks..” you said, trying to get away, searching around for layla’s figure somewhere around…
“why are you so fucking rude? huh? cant even be happy someone wants to be with you mh? ‘lil slut..” he said as his grip on your arm was tightening, probably gonna leave a mark after.
“please-“ you started but got cut by someone else, behind you two
“she said no man”
the men looks behind him, feeling his grip on your arm going insanely tight. you hiss by the pain.
“she’s with me” he answers to the girl you yet didn’t dare to look at, feeling embarrassed by this whole situation
“are you with this man, miss?” the girl asked you.
her tone completely shifting from raspy, loud and angry to sweet and gentle. making you look up from the ground to see the Ellie Williams defending you. you answer her a small ‘no’. scared if you talked louder the men would take away your arm at this point. or scared you’d cry from anger. the tight feeling you felt in your throat was cutting your voice to get through, if the knot would get destroyed, you’d probably sob right here, but it would only get tighter, feeling like it was taking the oxygen away from your lungs. feeling like it was choking you so it couldn’t pass anymore. would only make your heart beat slower due to the little air you were able to breathe. but you felt like it was beating faster, like you just ran kilometers and stopped suddenly. making your body react in a bad way in the sudden change.
but that was only a feeling.
you just looked, away.
you could hear Ellie yell at the men until his grip on you left to only see his arm swing towards ellie’s face. only that she dodged his punch smoothly. almost satisfying to watch her doing it like she was the finest fighter in the world.
but the slowmo and the muffled voices stopped and when Ellie punched him. Everything was too loud and too clear.
blood getting out of the man’s mouth. attacking Ellie back. everyone screaming and getting away from the fight, creating a non purpose circle.
suddenly it wasn’t a rock show, but a fight show.
Once Ellie completely knocked out the men, him completely passed out on the ground, blood all over his face. she went towards you
“You okay?” she asked, gently as she didnt even just fought with someone like she was gonna kill him.
you simply nodded to her, shocked by this whole situation, never wanting it to end up this way.
“come with me, yeah? ill get you some water and… clean you up” she said looking at your cheek, having some blood on it.
you just followed her into her lodge. it was quiet and cozy.
nobody was in there, but you were kinda nervous about the fact that you were literally with a celebrity.
“sit down” she obeyed.
you sat on the closest chair you saw, following her orders like a dog, still under shock.
ellie took a glass and poured water in it, placed it on the table next to you, then took a small towel and again, put water on it. she came real close to you, her head titled on the side a little bit, her fingers took your chin and made your head move a little bit on the side. she took the towel and took the blood away from your cheek. probably the men’s blood. ellie didn’t have one single scratch. only her knuckles were brushed.
you watched her taking care of you like a little kitten she had found on the road and just, felt bad for it.
her eyes were concentrated on what she was doing, her fingers touching you so gentle, so softly. her bottom lip between her teeth due to the concentration. she might looked so rough earlier, but here? she was the softest person you’ve ever laid eyes on.
“here..” she said as she stopped what she was doing. she sat next to you, with concerned eyes. she suddenly cared so much about you.
“thanks” you whispered, looking down to the glass of water in front of you.
“dont thank me, this guy was an asshole. are you hurt?” she asked looking at your arm, knowing he was holding it.
“if i were you id worry more about your hands” you said looking at them, all bloody and swallowed.
“its okay, dont worry about me…” She said getting up to grab some ice for your arm
“no, take it.” you said, putting it on her fingers trying to ease her pain from defending you.
the room went silent, a comfortable silence. the ones where you didnt rush do say anything or where you werent overthinking to find a subject to talk about.
Ellie on the other hand, was going insane. You were so pretty and you had a pin on your purse about their bands which meant that you were a fan. which meant you knew about her and listened to her music. the silence was driving her insane. she’d just wish she was a normal person who weren’t screaming for her name out there. screaming for her and the fact that they all wanted her. like she was theirs. but she didn’t want that. she wanted to be yours, and it wasn’t gonna be easy. she thought you were scared by her, she thought you saw her completely different now, that you’d stop listening about her being so so toxic with girls with the best beat dina and jesse could ever put to make everyone forget about how of an asshole she was.
about how the girl was hers but she wasnt the theirs. about how she just fucked the girl cause she was bored.
but now, you could saw her as a crazy girl that punches someone almost to death. someone dangerous.
you were just too pretty for this man, for this treatment. she would have done this for anyone, but taking care of them after? nahhh she wouldve just walked away.
“whats your name..?” Ellie asked, looking dead up in your eyes like she wasn’t going crazy on overthinking.
“my name’s ______” you tell her.
“im uh, im Ell-“
“Ellie Williams, yeah i know”
“of course you do..” she sighed at herself.
“fuck- i uh my friend… she’s gonna be dead worried!! fuck fuck” you say, completely on panic mode
“hey, hey, hey, its okay, just send her a message to let her know youre all good, im not letting you out there again, something worse could happen to you.” she says, in a stern tone.
“you worried about me Williams?” you ask her, calmed but surprised by her reaction, slightly titling your head a little bit. the small amount of alcohol in your system making you bolder than you ever could.
“believe it or not sweetheart, i care about my fans”
something in what you said activated Ellie’s dangerous side. she was gonna torture you and never let you go.
“dont you have a show you have to do? for the caring of your fans?”
“i believe they can wait a little bit, dont you think?” she smirked at you.
that goddamn smirk she’d have in those pinterest pictures of her if you searched up her name on the search bar. that smirk when she was on live and someone would tell how much they loved her. or when her fans would ask her to sign on their boobs.
that smirk.
“how disappointed i would be if i was one of those, knowing you were just sitting in here with someone you didnt even knew”
“mhhh i wouldnt care less doll”
you blushed at the nickname, you’d cringe if someone else would’ve called you like that, but the way she said made your panties grow a little wet spot faster than you thought your body could.
you shifted a little bit in your chair, uncomfortable by how sweaty you’ve just became.
“dont you think its hot.. in here?” you said, praying for her to not notice it was because of how much your heart was pumping, making you red everywhere.
“follow me” Ellie said, getting up and walking in another room. you were almost too shaking to even walk but you managed to make your way to ellie. she was in a small bedroom. how could you know lodges had bedrooms? no idea.
“we have those bedrooms if someone from the bend is tired or dont feel good, very useful. i think it was Beyoncé that asked that”
“you know beyoncé???” you asked completely amazed
“uhhh, no. im a small artist, not a pop star” she laughed and made herself comfortable on the bed.
you sat next to her, but shy enough to keep your distance away from her a little.
Ellie just grabbed a guitar that was hanging on the wall and started to play a little melody. her fingers stroking the strings so perfectly, making them some beautiful note and then you recognized the song. she was signing one of hers.
its like you were in a dream, the room was so dark but there was lights everywhere, hanging like a teenage room. making able to see everything with the most perfect lighting, you were able to see the intense shadows from ellie’s perfect muscles. aligned how it was made, like god modelled them himself with his own hands. the way she was just there looking at where her fingers were at to know what note to play next. her foot tapping around with the beat. her hair being lighten by the small yellow lights, making her auburn hair look way more softer than usual.
you couldn’t contain yourself at the sight.
“wanna try?” Ellie asked, handing you the guitar with smile on her lips… her perfect lips- ok stop this madness.
“i- i dont know how to play”
“ill teach you- here, put it on your legs…” she then got closer and took your hands to place them to make a chord. “and here is the chord C major” she smiled at you. “easy right?”
“sure, if i dont count the fact that my fingers are about to explose”
she looked at you and laughed, you did the same. you felt now so comfortable with her.
“alright..” she said,
“get in my lap imma teach you some other stuff.”
“huh?”
“the guitar, you trust me?”
she said, clarifying your dirty mind.
“uh yeah, i do” you said then sat in front of her, between her legs. she wrapped her arms around you and guided your fingers, showing you the chords. one by one.
her fingers felt sooo good on your skin, you were just wondering how good they felt inside of you.
you knew that what you were feeling was wrong, that you two just met but you couldn’t help to press your ass to her crutch. Ellie’s words stuttered, and so did yours. every words were slower and her mouvements were more sensual, if you werent delusional.
the tension just kept growing and only one more move and it could be done for the both of you.
she pressed her head in your shoulder. still teaching you. a hand on yours- guiding you and another on your hip… and she just made you get closer to her, as you could even get closer. you were trying to not moan at this point. what she was doing, ‘teaching’ you guitar and making your heart skip a beat, pretending like nothing else was happening, like it was just all in your imagination. but the feeling was so strong, so strong.
you felt her lips stroking against the skin of your neck while she was whispering you the instructions of the next chords.
crazy how an hour ago you were with your bestfriend, being exited about just seeing ellie live, and here you were, she was literally teaching you how to play guitar with hers. this felt all like it was some kind of prank, too good to be true, but you were just there to enjoy yourself at 100%.
Ellie’s hand on your hip was now playing around on your thigh, she’d tell you how good you were doing. she then moved her hand, painfully slow in your inner thigh. your breathing was speeding up like she was already in you…
she has just touch you so little.
you craved her so much.
you let her get higher, she stoked her fingers on your clothed cunt, could feel the wet spot on your panties that was growing since you got into her lodge.
“is this okay?” she asked you. scared she was taking everything too far, but you just pushed her hand closer to where you needed her the most.
Ellie took the guitar away from the both of you and turned you over so she could see your face.
your legs wrapped around her waist and now both of her hands were on your hips.
the atmosphere completely changed. it was romantic and comfortable 2 seconds ago, and now its so much more intense, the room feels hotter and your nervousness is on the top of your head controlling you to stay still.
“ellie…” you whined.
that made ellie so much more bold. her hands moved up from your hips to your cheeks, not forgetting to touch every part of your skin that was on the way. it wasn’t too slow and either too fast, just enough to realize she was getting closer and closer while her eyes switched on your eyes to your lips. you leaned in, like she was a magnet, pulling you towards her. her lips on yours felt the most right thing you’ve ever felt. they were so soft, so warm, so so tender against your lips. the kiss turned into a make out soon enough like it was a relief from all the tension that had built. her tongue dancing against yours, feeling this feeling of euphoria in your whole body, only catching yourself needed more and more.
unconsciously, your hips were rocking against any pressure you could find. ellie stopped her kisses to only replace them on your neck. you tilt your head to give her more access. you had no idea what you were doing, its like your body went into full control and your mind was just beyond the clouds, seeing the stars when her knee pressed against your clothed cunt. a moan and a a relief sigh escaped your lips.
all was happening so fast and ellie was taking your shirt off, as you were doing the same to her, like in those romantic movies when the two characters find eachothers and they get heated in the moment. like there wasn’t time, like you were late to somewhere.
ellie’s fingers found their way, once again on your clit.
“you mind if i take this off?” she asked, with a smirk, but you could see her cheeks blushing, her breath being fast… her hands shaking.
you nodded, way too speechless of the goddess in front of you
“words, i need words baby”
“take it off” you saw, looking at your legs that were still wrapped around ellie’s waist.
ellie layed you down on the bed, now on top of you, looking at you up and down, analyzing your body. she gently touched the hem of your skirt to take it off. you lifted your hips up to help her. her mouvement were painfully slow, as she was trying to make this sooo memorable.
your panties along with your hips were now on the floor of the room. laying with only your bra left.
ellie’s lips returned to yours, while you could feel her hands getting closer to where you needed her the most.
“ellie..?”
“yes, yes? what’s wrong?” she asked, genuine
“i uh.. can i ride on you?” you asked her, closing your eyes to try and hide yourself from the immense embarrassment you felt, but before you knew it, ellie stood up, you looked at her, clearly confused about what she was doing
to your surprise, she only stripped herself, finding her now completely naked. you could see her abs.. her biceps.. the ‘v’ kind of shape she had on her lower stomach.. her small, yet perfect boobs, only finding your mouth watering at the sight- and not only your mouth but your pussy was drenched too.
“are you gonna stop staring at me?” ellie asked as she climbed on top of you, kissing you- again
maybe she felt magnified to you too? just like you felt so attracted to her
you were winning in anticipation and excitement
naturally, her leg intertwined with one of yours so both of your clits were pressing against eachothers.
feeling her like that against you was heaven. grinding yourself against her was beyond beautiful. the scene was so pornographic that i’d create a new sin in the bible.
“els! im so.. close… fuck!!”
“me too, fuck.. together yeah?”
and just like that she gave a couple more trusts against you and you did the same, as your mouvements were synchronized, as if it was destiny to find her and make love with the love of your life.
you saw and felt fireworks, a big release escaped as you were almost screaming by pleasure. and ellie was just, amazed by your fucked expression she could cum again over and over by just being on top of you, looking at you this beautiful. she couldnt stop.
“els! please!” you said as you felt overstimulated by your previous orgasm.
“please give me another one, please.” ellie was begging at this point. as she needed it more than you, as she felt it in her.
she could go on and on, and you would let her abuse your cunt for the rest of your life if it felt like that.
#Spotify#ellie williams#the last of us#ellie fanfic#tlou fanfiction#wlw post#ellie smut#ellie x reader#ellie x you#wlw ns/fw#wlw smut
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I almost scrolled past this as someone who WAS shocked and felt like it was unexpected (after all Annabel Lee had to have known Lenore would have gotten upset- there's not much room for her to genuinely slip in and cement herself as being the grace Lenore needs even if she never figured out who actually... you know)
So it is slightly a dumb move on Annabel's part when it would be more effective (as a ploy) to go for someone Lenore has no connection to-
That would be the rational move; she's a queen on a chess board, surely the pawns come first, no? 'Lenore, dearest, you can't tell me you actually care about Side Character B? Did you even notice their absence? Really.'
But therein lies Annabel's hubris and sheer desperation coming forth! It's unexpected, but not out of character.
So it first, you know, I was going to 'agree to disagree' I don't see it, the works.
But then I saw someone like "I have no clue how AnaNore is endgame-" and going on a huge rant and almost jumped to the same anger level like a spooked cat.
nevermore spoilers episode 77, very short rant (tldr me being a bitch)
since the beginning annabel has promised lenore they’d get out of there, no matter what. she was always ready to eliminate their rivals. why are some people surprised she actually kept that promise and saying it’s unexpected
“omg the fucked up codependent character, who considers everyone but her lover pawns to be eliminated, is actually fucked up???”
also of course she’d pick one of the easiest targets: the man who is rooming with someone in her group, who hasn’t manifested his specter yet, and who is closest to lenore (therefore easier to manipulate using her appearance). like. it isn’t that hard to connect the dots.
she wants them to have that second chance, whether or not lenore likes her methods. something else she made clear early on.
#'I dunno how they can be endgame!' first of all shipping culture has rotten your brain go touch grass#if you are THAT opposed to the literal content in question just find something else#you can either take canon at face value or ignore it#'but the promos show them as cute lesbians!!1!' first of all there is character perception#like Annabel has literally never seen her actions as being wrong!#she imprinted on Lenore as her sense of freedom and escape- a saving grace when she didn't need it- when she hardly WANTED ig#now Annabel blinded by her emotions has the god complex that she assumed of Lenore in their living#they were insane from the get go#like full offense pretty much everything Annabel does has been HELLA toxic she's been SO two faced this entire time#if you start crying scared because she's an attempted murderer and that's going to sink your ship buddy#she's been all but legit gaslightint Lenore this whole time#circumstances aside Annabel in the afterlife has had some textbook abusive behaviour she's fucking insane#and that's her character! her character that drives Lenore up the wall good and bad! her appeal so to speak#she's the dark side of love#if you're not torn between turned on and pissed off you're not the target audience she's batshit
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