ok, we'll be talking about a shy megan, as always. You and Megan have been friends for a few long years and she has always tried to show you that she enjoys having your company. Whether it was days she spent by your side, days she called you to spend some time together just to have your company, days she would make you handmade gifts, or a mile-long letter about how great it is to have your friendship on your birthday.
However, you never picked up on the hints. As obvious as they may be, you are used to her showing affection and you never really found anything romantic in these acts.
One day, at a pajama party, the girls (Manon, Sophia, Daniela, Lara and Yoonchae) were talking to each other, doing a truth or dare or something. You excused yourself and went to the kitchen to get water, the chatter tired your throat.
Hearing footsteps behind you, you turned to see the redhead, shorter than you. Her hands clasped together, timidly playing with the hem of her pajamas, her head down.
“Shit, Meg- You scared me.” You just laughed. The room was dark, lit only by the dim light from the balcony next to the kitchen. Noticing Megan’s stillness, you set your glass aside and took a step forward. “Is something wrong?”
She doesn't answer right away, she just looks up. Her mouth opens, threatening to say something, but she stays quiet. “Y/N..” she murmurs, her voice strangely shaky. You give her a worried, but certainly welcoming look. Your friend, usually so lively and outgoing, quiet like this? “I just, I.. I wanted to talk to you, you know? I like you, really– I've already talked to Sophia about this and.. she said it would be good for me to tell you this, but–.. it's been like a few months and..–” You didn't understand a single word. She said it quickly, jumbled up.
Interrupting her, you let out a weak laugh. “Megan, slow down..” Gently, you tuck a lock of her red hair behind her ear. Despite the dark place, you can vaguely see her blush.
“I-... Y/N.” She begins, now looking only slightly more confident. Her hands seek out yours, and you see her run them over her pajamas as if to wipe away the sweat, probably because of nervousness. “I like you, Y/N. No, I- I like you, I like being with you, I.. I'm in love with you. And it's not a little, it's a lot, I- I just wanted you to know, even if you don't feel the same way. And if by any chance you don't feel the same, I ask – better yet... I beg that we can continue this friendship that we have, that I appreciate so much.” This time, you understood everything. The words were timid, sometimes trembling at crucial parts of the sentence, and the hands seemed uncertain about continuing to hold you.
You said nothing, your smile appeared, relieved. You pulled her gently in a way that she wouldn't even be surprised. You hugged her, and you two stayed like that, curled up, for at least 2 minutes, waiting for the redhead's breathing to calm down.
When you separated, she opened her mouth to ask something, but you shook your head. As if you were close to prey, you approached, your hands going down to her waist. She quickly picked up the signal, and approached as well. Her arms wrapped around your neck and your lips met. Surprising no one, her lips were as soft as silk, her cherry gloss lightly smearing across yours.
She seemed inexperienced, her hands unsteady and she didn't know she had to move her head at first, causing your noses to end up bumping.
However, none of this made you feel embarrassed, nothing. It was just you and Megan. And as soon as you separated, she looked at you, satisfied with life. The girl hugged you, hiding her face in the crook of your neck and leaving a quick kiss.
“I love you, Y/N.” Megan murmured, putting emphasis on "love".
p.s: a thousand apologies if I understood the ask wrong ):
sophia x f!reader – HS!au, sophia is a jock.
From the moment you became self-aware, you’ve had a crush… No, a free-fall off a cliff for Sophia Laforteza.
Maybe it was the way she got A's on every test without breaking a sweat, like academic perfection was second nature to her. Or the way she commanded attention as a class leader, effortlessly taking charge and making people listen. Or maybe — definitely — it was the way she played hockey, gliding across the ice like she was born there, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, eyes sharp and focused as she weaved past defenders and sent the puck flying into the net.
But despite this long-standing admiration — okay, obsession — you had never exchanged a single word with her. Not one.
Another year passed, and Valentine’s Day was creeping closer, wrapping the school in a haze of pink and red. Couples were popping up left and right, holding hands in the hallways, sharing shy kisses behind lockers, and slipping little notes into each other’s textbooks. Even the air felt heavier, charged with anticipation and unspoken confessions.
The school’s ninth graders, desperate to raise money for their graduation trip, had set up a "Fancy Mail" service — a Valentine’s Day tradition where students could buy cards, write heartfelt messages (or cringy pickup lines), and have them delivered by the younger kids during homeroom. It was cute, in theory. In reality, it was a social nightmare waiting to happen.
You slumped against your desk, letting out a long, dramatic sigh. Manon, sitting beside you, barely looked up from doodling in her notebook.
“Let me guess,” she drawled. “Sophia Laforteza?”
You frowned. “Is it that obvious?”
Manon snorted. “Y/N, you’ve been making literal heart eyes at her since middle school. The fact that you haven’t passed out from pining yet is a miracle.” She tapped her pen against your arm. “So? What’s the plan?”
You blinked. “Plan?”
She just rolled her eyes. “Valentine’s Day. Fancy Mail. Confession. Duh.”
You nearly choked. “Excuse me?”
Meret tossed her notebook aside, turning to face you fully. “Listen. You’ve had a crush on Sophia for years and have done absolutely nothing about it. Don’t you think it’s time?”
“I— No! I can’t just… confess!” you hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “What am I even supposed to say? ‘Hey Sophia, I’ve been secretly in love with you since forever. Wanna grab coffee?’”
“Yes,” She deadpanned. “Exactly that.”
You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “I'd rather crawl into a hole and die.”
She poked your arm. “Oh, c’mon. This is your chance! Worst case, she ignores it. Best case…” Manon wiggled her eyebrows. “She confesses she’s been secretly in love with you this whole time and you two ride off into the sunset.”
You shot her a glare. “Real helpful, Manon. Thanks.”
But the idea gnawed at you. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was your chance. Sure, it was terrifying, but at least you’d finally get it off your chest. And who knows? Maybe Sophia would think it was sweet. Or at least not totally pathetic.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you found yourself in front of the Fancy Mail booth. A group of ninth graders was huddled behind the table, looking utterly bored as they handed out cards. The girl closest to you, her braces glinting under the fluorescent lights, shoved a blank card and pen into your hands without even looking up.
You stood frozen, staring at the card like it was a bomb waiting to go off. Your palms felt clammy, the pen slipping slightly in your grip. What were you supposed to write?
“To Sophia…”
Your mind went blank. How did people write love letters without sounding like total weirdos?
You chewed on the end of the pen, thoughts racing. Should you keep it simple? Compliment her hockey skills? Her intelligence? Oh god, what if she laughed at you?
You glanced around the room, hoping for inspiration. Manon was watching from the corner, giving you an exaggerated thumbs-up. Useless. The other students were scribbling away at their cards, some giggling with their friends, others frowning in concentration.
You took a deep breath. Screw it.
The pen hovered over the card. Slowly, you began to write.
“I’ve admired you for a long time. Longer than I’d like to admit. You’re smart, talented, and probably the coolest person I’ve ever seen. I guess this is my way of saying… Happy Valentine’s Day. — Y/N.” You stared at the words. It was simple. Maybe too simple. Should you add something more? No — if you kept going, you’d end up writing a novel. Hands shaking, you folded the card and shoved it into the little pink box labeled "S".
It was done. No turning back now.
As you walked away, heart hammering in your chest, you tried not to think about tomorrow. About what would happen when the cards were delivered. About the possibility that Sophia might actually read your words.
You were so not surviving this.
The next morning felt like a fever dream.
You barely slept, tossing and turning until the sun crept through your blinds. Your mind replayed every possible outcome of the Fancy Mail fiasco. Maybe Sophia would laugh at the card. Or worse — maybe she wouldn’t even read it. What if it got lost? Or delivered to the wrong person? Or what if she read it out loud to her friends and they all had a good laugh at your expense?
By the time you stumbled into school, your stomach was in knots. The halls were busier than usual, students darting between classes, clutching heart-shaped balloons and candy grams. Everything was a blur of pink and red, the air buzzing with excitement.
You spotted Manon by your locker, casually munching on a chocolate bar. “Well?” she asked, mouth full. ”Did you survive the night, or did you spontaneously combust from anxiety?”
You groaned, leaning against the cold metal. “Barely.”
She grinned. “Today’s the day. Are you ready?”
“Not even remotely.”
Manon laughed, slapping your back a little too hard. “You’ll be fine. It’s out of your hands now.”
Out of your hands.
Right. That was the terrifying part.
The morning passed in a haze. You couldn’t focus in class. Every time the door opened, your heart leaped into your throat, expecting one of the ninth graders to barge in with the Fancy Mail deliveries. By the time third period rolled around, the anxiety had settled into a permanent knot in your stomach.
Then it happened. The door swung open, and a group of ninth graders marched in, carrying a pile of pastel-colored envelopes. The teacher barely acknowledged them, waving for them to get it over with quickly. Students perked up, some whispering excitedly, others pretending they didn’t care. You, on the other hand, felt like you were about to die.
You kept your eyes trained on your desk as they called out names. "Emma! Jordan! Nate! Sophia!"
Your breath caught in your throat.
From the corner of your eye, you saw her reach out, taking a small pink envelope from one of the ninth graders. She didn’t react right away, simply flipping it over in her fingers, as if debating whether it was worth opening.
Your pulse pounded in your ears.
Then, finally, she unfolded the card.
You risked a glance. Sophia’s expression was unreadable as her eyes flickered over the words. Seconds stretched into eternity. Her friends leaned in, trying to sneak a peek, but she angled the card away from them, lips pressing into a thoughtful line.
You were going to be sick. Or pass out. Maybe both.
Manon, sitting beside you, casually slid a piece of paper onto your desk. “Breathe. You look like you’re about to faint.”
You shot her a glare.
Then, as if sensing your stare, Sophia lifted her gaze. Your heart stopped.
For a moment, neither of you moved. Her dark eyes locked onto yours across the classroom. Not with amusement. Not with mockery. Just… curiosity.
Then, to your absolute horror, the corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk.
You tore your gaze away so fast you were surprised your neck didn’t snap.
Your heart was beating at an alarming rate, a deep, painful thud against your ribs. Sophia Laforteza had smirked. At you. What the hell did that mean? Was she amused? Flattered? Was she laughing at you internally?
“Did she just—?” Manon whispered beside you, voice barely above a breath.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you hissed, gripping your pen so tightly it might snap in half.
Manon snorted. “You’re so dramatic.” Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one who just confessed their undying admiration to the most effortlessly cool person in school.
For the rest of the class, you kept your head down, pretending to take notes while your brain spiraled into a million different scenarios. Maybe you imagined the smirk. Maybe Sophia had been smirking at something else. Or maybe she was planning to hunt you down after class just to publicly humiliate you.
The bell rang.
You jumped, barely restraining a yelp. Students shuffled out of their seats, filing toward the door, but you stayed frozen. If you moved, there was a chance— "Hey."
The word was casual. Effortless. Like it wasn’t the first time she had ever spoken to you.
But it was.
And it was coming from directly behind you. Slowly—so slowly it was almost painful—you turned.
And there she was.
Sophia stood in front of your desk, Fancy Mail card still in her hand. Up close, she was even prettier, which was saying a lot because she already looked like some unfair combination of a model and a movie star. Her uniform was slightly rumpled from hockey practice that morning, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show her forearms.
You tried to form words, but your brain had officially left the chat.
Sophia raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the card. “So… you wrote this?” You swallowed.
"Uh."
Brilliant. Just brilliant.
The smirk returned. It was slow, teasing, and—oh god—you were going to pass out.
“You don’t have to look so terrified,” she said, tilting her head. “I think it’s cute.”
Your soul left your body.
Manon, the absolute traitor, was watching everything, clearly enjoying your suffering.
You blinked, forcing yourself to say something—anything. “You—um. You do?” Sophia hummed, tapping her fingers against the card.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s not every day I get a confession that’s actually… sweet. And real.”
You couldn't believe this was happening. You had prepared for rejection, for laughter, for absolute embarrassment—but not this. Not Sophia looking at you with something dangerously close to amusement and interest.
She leaned slightly closer, voice dropping just enough to make your brain short-circuit. “So, what now? Are you gonna keep admiring me from afar, or are you actually gonna talk to me?”
This had to be a hallucination. A stress-induced fever dream.
Somehow, you managed to find your voice. “I—I can talk.”
Sophia grinned. “Good. Then walk with me to my next class.” And just like that, she turned on her heel, walking toward the door.
It took you a full three seconds to process what had just happened before Manon shoved your shoulder. “Well? Go, Y/N!”
You stumbled to your feet, heart still hammering, and followed Sophia out the door.
Maybe—just maybe—you were surviving this after all.
sometimes i imagine how g!pmegan would act at her first time eugh shes so fine i nweed that woman sm 🫢
not proofread, use of google translator.
Megan is such a cutie. The first time, she would show signs of the horniness she was feeling. her mark on her sweatpants was obvious to anyone. Sometimes she would run her hand up your thigh, squeezing the inside. Or lay her head on your shoulder and leave soft kisses on your neck. Also, she would do it carefully, legs crossed and the touches always so gentle, as if she wanted to give you hints, since she would be shy. If you were in a public place, you would just keep a possessive hand on your leg. If you were in a private place, the touches would be a little more heated, and she would make a point of scraping the tips of her fingers between your legs. When you asked her the reason for all this, she would just say: “It’s nothing” and continue touching you. Furthermore, if you finally take the hints and go to the bedroom (if you're not already there), she'll act like a fool. She would pretend not to have done anything until you “forced” her to touch you that way again, either by asking or by ordering.
If we are talking about a dom megan, I am sure that as soon as you sit on her lap, you would receive hands with strong fingers on your hips, enough to leave marks. Megan would kiss your neck, lay you down on the bed to worship your body, leaving you naked slowly, wanting to enjoy the moment. Despite this, her touches would be 50/50. 50% confident, 50% hesitant. She would ask you if everything was okay, if she could touch/kiss you here and there, or take off a certain piece of clothing. You would probably have to guide her, although I imagine a Megan who would watch videos before actually fucking you. Once she got the rhythm going, she wouldn't stop until she had filled your womb with her cum ): She would say “Good girl”, “Taking my cock so well like the pretty slut you are”. And if you asked for a break, she would cup your little face and leave a quick kiss on your lips, saying, “You can hold on a little longer, can’t you?” until you're dripping with her cum.
Sub!Megan would be calmer. While you gently take off her clothes, kissing every inch of her skin as she moans. She would be LOUD, moaning for the whole neighborhood to hear. As soon as you climb on top of her and fit her cock inside you, you can't think straight for a good 2 minutes, because besides being kinda thick, the tip seemed to kiss your cervix. Lowering your body, you would start to ride her, she would arch her back and bring you close, wanting to kiss you to muffle her moans (spoiler: it doesn't work). Sometimes she would lift her hips, going deeper into you to match your riding, her hands would be shy so they would just hold your waist if you didn't make her rub your clit or hold your breasts. You look at her, her eyes big with tears in the corners of her eyes “Please, baby..” she would murmur, not even knowing what exactly she was asking for. She looked like a mess: messy hair with a few strands stuck to her sweaty forehead and ragged breathing. If you make her cum 2 times, she would ask you to stop because shes so sensitive, but she would still be so hard that she would consequently ask for more ): and would probably only get tired after about 4 times, her little body tired and trembling as she grabbed yours.
I wrote this one but with g!p Megan so AAAAAAAGH I have a lot of thoughts
After the kiss, you and Megan obviously became extremely closer.
It didn't take long for you two to almost make your relationship official.
One day, you invited Megan over to your house, wanting to spend some time with her. You agree to watch a movie she's been asking you to watch with her for months.
In your double bed, you were (obviously) stuck together, despite the large space. Her arms were wrapped around your waist, your hand caressing her arm and the other her shoulder.
She just snuggled into your chest, listening to your heartbeat as she watched the movie.
At one point, there was a scene that hinted at sexual content. You didn't care, but you felt Megan's body shrink.
Well, as far as you know, Megan never even masturbated, or else she was just too shy to say so.
You felt the gentle way Megan rubbed against your thigh, hearing the little moan. You held your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a smile as you listened to her.
She kept saying that the moaning was from the movie and she didn't even make a sound.
Obviously, you didn't believe it.
It took a few minutes for you to move your hand down her leg, your fingers gently tracing her thigh, until you squeezed lightly. Her body shuddered and she pressed herself against you, her hips almost automatically rubbing against your leg.
You gently pulled her onto your lap, earning a slight squeak of surprise from her.
Your lips crashed, your hands encircle Megan's waist as she begins to grind against you, whimpering into your lips.
“Y/N..” Her voice sounded as sweet as honey, your lips parting from hers. “Please–.. I need you.”
And you didn't need to hear anything else. You gently laid her down on the mattress, your body fitting over hers. Megan's pajamas were easy to access, you just had to unbutton them here and there to let them slide off her shoulders.
You kissed her forehead, slowly removing the piece of clothing. “Are you sure, my love?” You asked her, but those big brown eyes already seemed like a “yes.”
You spent a long time adoring her body. Kissing and sucking her neck, all the way to her breasts. You made sure to mark every inch of her skin, whether with the saliva from your kisses or the red marks.
She whimpered and moaned, her hands gripping your locks tightly. There were points where she arched her back, Megan's body illuminated by the golden light of the moon, highlighting the surreal curves.
By this point, you were out of your pajamas, her nails running up and down your back. It was an attempt at a hug, but she was so desperate that she ended up scratching you.
It was when you were between the redhead's legs that you could really see her: Her hair messed up by the pillow, heavy breathing and her eyes watering with pure lust. She kept one hand thrown on the bed and the other on her head, just stroking.
“Please, hah.. please, just– j-just do what you have to do, I need you so much, Y/N. So much.” She stuttered, sometimes pausing to catch her breath. Almost as if in a plea, her legs opened a little wider, her hand tightening in your hair.
You slide her panties down her legs, reaching the end. You catch a glimpse of her arousal between her legs sticking to her panties. You glance at her once more, before running your tongue up and down once. Your lips found her clit, you sucked and licked at the same time, one hand moving up to her breast.
It wasn't for nothing that Megan's moans were so loud, it was the way you sucked and licked her, or how your hand played perfectly with her breast.
She begged for more, unconsciously grinding against your mouth.
And poor Megan, she didn't last long ): Her little legs shook and tears escaped, she closed her legs so tightly you could feel your breath and soul leaving.
By the time she opened her legs a little and you climbed up, kissing her entire face and wiping away her tears, she couldn't even say anything, she was so weak. She was still letting out soft whimpers, hugging you as her entire body shook, but you could hear a simple and shaky “Thank you.”
subby!megan, use of pet names and praising a bit, use of mommy, puppy..
“Babe—” Her voice sounded like a whisper, not strong enough to call you loud and clear. “Please, wait... hah.. mommy- I—” her legs trembled weakly, luckily her body was supported against the wall of the bathroom stall, so she wouldn't fall.
you opened your eyes, not stopping with your mouth between her legs.
she was desperate, one hand holding her own loose shirt just below her breasts and the other gripping the support of bags on the wall.
She dropped her shirt and grabbed your hair, pushing you away from her legs, making your mouth have a string of saliva and her arousal that connected to her pussy, which shone in the light of the public bathroom, the red tones of so much oral abuse were evident.
“Is something wrong?” You didn't move from your kneeling position, speaking a little louder because the bathroom was empty.
She tried to catch her breath, lifting her hand from your hair to her face, covering her shy expression.
“I drank too much before we came here, love..” She didn't dare say the rest of the sentence, too shy for that.
you immediately understood Megan's concern, your hand coming up to gently remove hers from her face.
“Trust me, yeah?” was the only thing you said. you gently kissed her thighs, running a gentle, kitten lick over her soaked pussy, hearing a whimper from her.
She tried to stop you once more, and you grabbed her wrist. “Mei.. Be the good puppy and stay quiet.” your tone left no room for argument. in response, you received an "mhm" from the Chinese woman.
gently, you returned to fuck Skiendiel's intimacy, sucking and licking at the same time, your nose scraping her clit.
your tongue would enter her intimacy, and you feel how she pulses with your touches, how her moans get louder and she seems to need more.
there was a single moment when she went quiet after a drawn-out moan, Megan's mind blank and foggy.
You feel gooey drops on your tongue, sweet and a little salty. Knowing that Megan came, your hands gripped her hips tightly so she wouldn't fall, swallowing the liquid as the more you stimulated her, the more she seemed to release more.
When everything stopped, you pulled your face away just a little and quickly went up to hug her, calming her trembling body and listening to her nervous sobs.
“It's okay, baby. You did sooo good to me.” You reassured her, stroking her red locks as she tried to calm down. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”
She looked at you, sobbed again and wiped away her tears. It was all so intense that Megan ended up crying. Her big eyes suddenly hooded and watery. You smile at the sight of her like this, and she nods at your question.
“I'm—... I'm fine. It was just... Wow.” She lets out a laugh and snuggles into your embrace, sighing as her legs trembled so much.
any thoughts of Lara taking care of your daughter (it's just yours, that you had with an ex)
shes so mom coded ):
You found yourself arriving home after a long, exhausting day at work, the weight of the world on your shoulders. You’d left Lara to take care of your daughter, something that had become a routine of sorts lately. The thought of them together, of Lara’s gentle way with her, had been a comfort during your long hours at the office. Still, you didn’t call her right away. The house was quiet, and you assumed they were both asleep, nestled in the familiar peace of your home.
A few steps forward, your eyes wandered to the side of the long couch, where you spotted Lara. She was sprawled out comfortably, her chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep. Your daughter was curled up against her, tucked under the warmth of Lara’s arm, her tiny body completely relaxed in the safety of Lara’s embrace. The sight caught you off guard, your breath catching in your throat.
It was a perfect moment — so simple, yet so full of warmth. The way they fit together, like a little family, felt like something out of a dream.
Your heart pounded in your chest, and for a second, you didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or just sit there in awe. You couldn’t help but smile broadly at the scene before you.
You crept closer, careful not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening light, shadows stretching across the floor as the day gave way to night. Sitting down next to them, you reached out, your fingers brushing through Lara’s red locks, the silky strands gliding between your fingertips.
Lara stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she felt your touch. For a moment, her gaze was foggy with sleep, but when she saw you, the sleepiness melted away, and a soft, sleepy smile tugged at her lips. “You’re back,” she whispered, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
You chuckled quietly, shaking your head. “I tried to be quiet. Didn’t want to disturb this.” You glanced at your daughter, still sleeping soundly on Lara’s chest. “This is perfect.”
Lara shifted slightly, adjusting her hold on your daughter, her movements careful not to disturb her. “She’s an angel,” Lara said, her voice soft, as if not wanting to wake your daughter, but speaking out of an undeniable tenderness. “It’s easy to take care of her. She’s so sweet.”
A small, proud smile tugged at your lips. “I know. She’s everything to me.” You paused, looking at Lara, your heart swelling at the sight of her taking such care with your daughter.
There was something so natural about it — the way Lara seemed to know exactly how to soothe her, how to make her feel safe.
Lara looked up at you then, her eyes still half-lidded from sleep, but there was a softness there, something that went beyond friendship. She seemed to be holding your gaze for longer than usual, her fingers still lightly stroking your daughter’s hair. You couldn’t help but wonder if she felt it too — the shift in the air, the way the room seemed to hold more than just the two of you and the child between you. There was a deeper connection forming, something you hadn’t been brave enough to acknowledge yet.
You couldn’t quite hold it in anymore. “Lara,” you said, your voice quieter than usual, “are you sure this is okay?”
Her gaze didn’t waver, and she gave a small, reassuring smile. “I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t.” She shifted slightly, bringing your daughter’s blanket higher, making sure she was warm and comfortable. “I like spending time with her. And I like spending time with you.”
The words hung in the air between you, the weight of them settling in your chest. There was no sarcasm, no joke behind them. Just truth.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. The reality of it all — the friendship, the late-night talks, the easy companionship you shared — was slowly evolving into something more. The familiarity of Lara’s presence had always been comforting, but now, there was something more to it, a subtle shift in how you saw her, how you felt about her.
“I’m glad you’re here,” you murmured, leaning a little closer, your hand still resting in her hair, feeling the warmth radiating from her.
Lara’s smile grew a little wider. “I’m glad I’m here too.”
The moment hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning but unspoken. There was no rush, no pressure — just the simple acknowledgment that things were changing.
Lara was no longer just your best friend. She was something more. And you? You had already crossed that invisible line, unsure of how or when it happened, but you knew it was there now.
And as you sat there, watching your daughter sleep soundly in Lara’s arms, it became clearer than ever. Maybe this was what it meant to build a family — not just in the traditional sense, but in the way two people, through time and trust, began to find themselves connected in ways they hadn’t expected.
Lara’s hand brushed against yours, her fingers grazing yours lightly before she rested them comfortably on the couch between you. Your heart skipped a beat at the touch, but you didn’t pull away.
“I always thought you would take good care of children.” you commented, watching Lara carefully arrange herself on the couch for you to lie down next to her, and you do so.
“Oh well, you know me so well.” Lara responded with a laugh, looking at you so delicately, as if you were a rare jewel.
you let out a laugh and kissed the tip of her nose, hugging her waist and laying your head on her shoulder, your eyes closing, hearing an “I love you” before falling asleep.
about this smau that I left aside because I got discouraged 😭
childhood friends. messy rumors. senior year and stupid feelings they swore didn’t exist. yoonchae pretends she doesn’t care. y/n pretends she doesn’t remember. all in lowercase — because they’re stupid like that!!!!!!!!
basically yn disappears for years without leaving any notice as to why she left, and years later, she returns to the same place and has the job of winning back her ex-best friend
