Work Text:
So. Lara’s on Twitter.
Okay, look, it’s not a huge deal. She’s not, like, an incel. She has a modest following of a few ten thousand and she tweets five times a day at max, and really, she’s mostly just there to promote her music and occasionally post cute selfies, tag #wlw on them, and watch lesbians throw themselves at her in the comments section. Sue her, it’s a nice ego boost.
And a little doomscrolling never killed anybody, right? It’s a Saturday afternoon, and Sophia’s out for groceries, and that mix can wait another hour or two before Lara really needs to work on it. It’s the perfect time to flop on the couch and flick away at the screen— she can even prop up her feet on the coffee table without Sophia nagging her.
Her timeline is pretty monotonous: oomf with her tits out, blue checkmark, blue checkmark, a weird-ass video of some girl walking her boyfriend’s dick on a leash as he swims in a puddle (?) that Megan retweeted for some fucking reason, blue checkmark, blue checkmark, that one clip of Jenna Ortega eating another girl’s face. She scrolls, and scrolls, and scrolls, until she gets a DM from Manon.
doeeyedmanon
2:43 PM
lar did you see this?
Sent a tweet by @butchstag.
And no, Lara has not seen this before, so she clicks on the link— it’s a quote of LARA RAJ HQ’s tweet congratulating her for reaching 100k streams on homegirls, which was very sweet. This rando— butchstag, whatever— is not quite as sweet.
@butchstag: you people are under spells… this khia is a day 1 queerbaiter and y’all just let her get away with it bc of pretty privilege
Lara’s jaw drops.
wave2lars
2:44 PM
??? ???
OH WHO IS YOU
doeeyedmanon
2:45 PM
girl i wish i could tell you
all i know is that oomf made a thread about them way back when
like they’re a cousin diddler or smth idfk
wave2lars
2:45 PM
????????
doeeyedmanon
2:45 PM
sigh
i’ll send it to you
Manon sends Lara this long-ass cancel thread that reads “@butchstag IS A STAIN ON THE WLW COMMUNITY” and has, like, hundreds of quotes. It’s followed by a trigger warning list that goes on for way too long, and Lara skims through everything as best as she can, squinting at the screenshots the OP attached as evidence. Oh, it’s bad.
wave2lars
2:49 PM
can they die
can they die
can they die
doeeyedmanon
2:49 PM
bitch calm down
wave2lars
2:49 PM
okay but they deserve to die
doeeyedmanon
2:50 PM
just ratio them
that’s close enough
wave2lars
2:50 PM
wait true.
ratio what tho ??
doeeyedmanon
2:50 PM
i don’t really gaf enough to check
you’re a big girl you can figure it out yourself
wave2lars
2:50 PM
die
doeeyedmanon
2:50 PM
you have issues genuinely
So, with great reluctance, Lara visits butchstag’s profile to find something worth ratio-ing. Miraculously, she’s not blocked, and inspiration immediately strikes as soon as she sees their pinned tweet. It’s just a bunch of girls in bondage— rigging can’t be that hard, right? This should be lightwork.
The issue now is that Lara doesn’t know who to rig. Option #1 is Gabriela from last weekend, but Lara left her on delivered after they hooked up because the sex was bad and that would just be a really awkward conversation. Option #2 is Megan, but Lara knows that she’ll just laugh in her face when she asks about it. Who the fuck else is there?
Lara’s in the middle of Googling “how to find a body tea femme asap no glue no borax” when the door to their apartment swings open.
“Ew, Lara, get those off the table,” Sophia scolds, sounding a bit winded as she shifts all the grocery bags to one arm. The thin plastic rustles as she locks the door. “And put your phone away. Blue light is bad for your eyes.”
Lara huffs, shuts her phone off, then swings her legs onto the other side of the couch even though she knows that’ll piss Sophia off too.
“On the ground,” she snaps. Straight-laced and predictable, as always.
“Okay, mom,” Lara snorts, but she sits properly anyway, turning to face Sophia as she brings everything to the kitchen. “Do you need help with the bags?”
“I’m good,” she replies distractedly, already sorting out what needs to be stored cold and what can go in the cupboard. “I bought the ashwagandha you asked about, by the way. The one with the blue bottle?”
Lara had mentioned that once, like, weeks ago. She’s about to comment on it when Sophia suddenly shrugs off her jacket and tosses it on one of the chairs at their kitchen counter. Her shirt is cropped. Her jeans are low-waisted. When she musses her hair and stretches her arms over her head, Lara suddenly gets a very vivid mental image. Specifically, a mental image where Sophia’s wrists are trussed up in red rope like a Thanksgiving turkey.
Option #3: Sophia Laforteza (?)
Sophia and Lara aren’t necessarily besties, but they’re chill enough. Sophia never comments when Lara brings someone home late at night. Lara doesn’t complain when Sophia’s Dyson Airwrap starts whirring at five in the morning. She’s pretty sure that rope play isn’t really Sophia’s thing because she seems vanilla as fuck, but maybe that means she’d understand that there’s no strings attached (no pun intended). It would just be… friendly bondage. Bondage for a noble cause.
Does Sophia even swing that way, though? Lara racks her brain, but she can’t recall a single time she mentioned even talking to someone. Maybe she took a vow of celibacy??
A minute or two passes before Lara realizes that she’s been staring like a fucking perv, and now her roommate is staring back.
“So that was the part where you were supposed to say thank you,” Sophia says drily, and yeah, she’s right. Lara opens her mouth to reply, but somehow, all the wrong words spill out.
“Can I tie you up?”
Sophia’s eyes bug out, then quickly narrow. “I beg your finest pardon?”
“Not in a weird way,” Lara elaborates, gesticulating stupidly with her free hand. Holy shit, she wants to kill herself. “I just need to ratio butchstag on Twitter.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that deer could be gay now too,” Sophia says confusedly, clearly still weirded the fuck out. “Love is love, I guess.”
Lara blinks. “What— okay, Sophia, no. I need you to lock in. That’s their username. And they’re evil. So I need to ratio them.”
Note to self: Sophia knows what a butch is. Wait, why does that even matter?? Lara needs to focus.
“Uh huh,” Sophia nods, bobbling her head slowly as if she understands. She’s trying to cram a pack of chicken thighs into the freezer. It’s vaguely amusing. “What exactly did they do again?”
“Throw shade at me,” Lara explains. “And like, just imagine the worst white queer ever. That’s them.”
Sophia’s expression is perfectly blank. Lara sighs. “They’re racist.”
“Oh, that’s not good.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Lara says eagerly. Now they’re getting somewhere. “So I need to one-up them.”
Sophia’s brow is furrowed in serious concentration as she finally shuts the freezer door, contemplating to herself. “I can help you,” she acquiesces. Yes! “But we need a plan.” Oh, no.
“A plan?” Lara laughs nervously. “What for?”
“This is a competition, yes?” Sophia challenges. “You need a strategy, then. Because we need to win.”
Somehow, with the way she says it, it sounds a lot more like “I need to win.” Lara forgot how fucking competitive she gets about literally anything. Maybe this was a mistake.
“Phia, it’s really fine—”
“Do you even know how to rig?” she asks, completely ignoring Lara’s pleading and returning to the groceries. “Do you have the appropriate materials?”
“… No.”
“So we’ll start there,” Sophia says primly, swinging open the fridge door to balance the new carton of eggs on top of a disarray of yogurts . “I’ll look into the ropes. You do your own research and find some tutorials, okay? Divide and conquer. Veni, vidi, vici.”
Lara decides at that moment to surrender, opting to flop back onto the couch pitifully. “Sounds good. Thanks, babe.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiles, smug and proud of herself. “Now, do you want pulao or pancit for lunch? I’m leaning more towards pancit, but you can pick. I don’t really mind.”
“Pancit would be great,” Lara says as she perks back up, her prior sulking forgotten with the promise of stir-fried vermicelli. “You always make it so good.”
“Okay, perf,” Sophia replies, filling a bowl with water for the noodles to soak in. “Can you prep the veg, though? The cabbage and carrots are on the bottom shelf of the fridge.”
“Prep the veg,” Lara parrots, putting on an exaggerated British accent. “You’ve been watching too much Masterchef. You’re slowly becoming Gordon Ramsay.”
“Shut up,” Sophia scoffs, scooting over as Lara joins her in the kitchen. “But thanks for helping.”
Despite living together, Sophia and Lara don’t actually interact directly a whole lot. Most of what Lara knows about her has been through context clues, like overheard Facetime calls, tupperware leftovers, and bougie hair products that line up on the little shelf in their shower. So it’s always nice when Sophia, like, tries to get her involved in what she’s doing.
Honestly, Lara could kiss Megan with tongue for introducing the two of them to each other. Sophia needed someone to split rent with; Lara needed somewhere to live off-campus. And Sophia’s the ideal roommate: she doesn’t get pissy when Lara steals her nice shampoo or leaves her clothes in the dryer by mistake, she can cook, and she shares. She’s wife material. No homo, though.
The vegetables take, like, less than ten minutes to prep, so when Lara’s done, she just sits by the counter and watches Sophia work. In another life, she could totally see Sophia manning some food stall instead of studying to be a pediatrician because she’s being so professional about this. And also because she’d make a cute food vendor.
So, Lara tells her just that, and Sophia laughs. “You’re funny,” she says, and somehow, it sounds both like an insult and a compliment at the same time. “I’d have to wear a hairnet twenty-four seven, though. That’s not so cute.”
“Okay, but I think you could still serve!” Lara protests, letting her elbows rest on the cool marble counter. “Like, lunch lady-chic.”
Sophia wrinkles her nose as she turns off the stove. “Yeah, no. That wouldn’t work.”
“You just don’t see my vision.”
Sophia opens their cabinet of cutlery, pulls out a pair of chopsticks, and uses them to carefully scoop up some of the noodles. She gestures for Lara to come closer, gently blowing on the hot food, and brings the chopsticks to Lara’s lips.
“Here, Lar. Tell me if this is salty enough.” Sophia’s hand is poised beneath Lara’s chin to catch any stray crumbs. “Say ‘ahh.’”
Obediently, Lara does. Sophia must’ve gotten her nails done recently— they were baby blue last week, but now, as she feeds Lara, they’re a dark, glossy red, studded with little silvery rhinestones. The color suits her.
“Well?” Sophia asks, looking at Lara expectantly.
“I think the salt level’s fine,” Lara says, covering her mouth as she chews. “This is so buss, by the way.”
“Thank you, I think.”
They eat lunch sitting side-by-side at the kitchen counter, and it’s mostly quiet, save for chewing noises. Which, like, ick. Sophia’s reading something off of her phone, which is weird because she’s always harping on Lara for not using screens while you’re eating because it fucks up your digestion or something. So, Lara leans over a little to see what she’s looking at so intently, and—
“Sophia, oh my God.”
“Nylon’s supposed to be good for beginners,” Sophia says, unbothered as she scrolls through the longest BDSM catalog Lara’s seen, like, ever. “What color do you want? They’re all the same price.”
Okay, so maybe Sophia’s not as vanilla as she thought.
“Get everything in red,” Lara says, remembering her vision from earlier. “Red is sexy. Red is good.”
“Sure, sweetie,” Sophia deadpans, adding a bunch of shit to her cart and checking out. “It wasn’t quite sexy nor good when you dyed your hair red last year and it stained the shower, though.”
“I am so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she says. Nope, she’s definitely still salty about it. “It made for a good lyric. Something, something, changing up the color.”
“Wait, you listened to homegirls?” Lara asks surprisedly, a slow smile spreading across her face, and Sophia immediately goes quiet. “Aww, Fifi, that’s actually so sweet. Thank you for supporting the global rising pop star sensation, Lara Raj.”
“… It says it’ll arrive within a week,” Sophia mutters, ears tinged a pretty pink. “My work here is done. Goodbye.”
“Wait, noo,” Lara whines, but Sophia’s already standing up and cleaning up the dishes. “Come back, I’m sorry.”
“Remember to do your homework,” Sophia says sternly, but there’s no real bite. “You have a deadline now. No late submissions.”
Lara pouts, but doesn’t argue. The air smells like warm oil and dish soap when she sighs. “Can I just use Wikihow?”
Sophia shrugs, lining up the plates on a rack of the dishwasher to dry. “You know what? Go for it.”
It’s Friday night, and Lara’s out. The lights are low, bathing everything in this purplish-blue hue, and the air is sticky sweet. Her hands are tangled in Megan’s pink hair, freshly redyed and matted down with sweat, and they’re dancing to this random DJ’s set. It’s not half bad.
“You should drink with me,” Megan sing-songs. Lara can’t tell if the red in her eyes is from the lighting or if she’s high. Lara squints: her pupils are wider than usual. Yep, definitely high. “My fake is better this time. Oh, and Adela told me that wearing a push-up bra gets you carded less. ‘Cause, y’know, tits.”
“Adela’s full of shit,” Lara scoffs. “But fuck yes.”
They’re standing by the bar, sipping from matching mojitos with less mint because Megan thinks they’re “too leafy” otherwise. Lara watches as Megan flirts with the futch-looking bartender with dark curly hair, trying to wheedle a free shot or two out of her, and honestly, it might be working. Wait, holy shit, it is working.
“Thank you soo much, babygirl,” Megan says sweetly, then turns to Lara to give her a thumbs up. Lara’s smiling back at her when her phone buzzes in her purse. A text notification— from who?
Lara fishes her phone out, squinting at the bright screen. Oh, she recognizes that contact photo. She’d set it to one of those default iPhone emoji profile pics, specifically one of an anchor with a blue background, because when she met Sophia for the first time, she was wearing this white dress shirt with a giant-ass collar that made her look like a preppy sailor boy.
“Who is it?” Megan asks, accepting the shot glasses from the bartender with a little thank you before setting them on the counter.
“It’s Sophia.”
Megan gasps, then lunges for Lara’s phone, batting for it frantically like a feral cat. “Ooh, gimme gimme gimme.”
“Girl, no,” Lara laughs, but it’s too late. Megan’s shoving Lara’s phone in her own face to unlock it, hunching over and away so she can text Sophia as she pleases.
Sophia
10:21 PM
Lara
You
10:21 PM
sophiaaa
lol so ominous o~(.u.)~o
Sophia
10:21 PM
?
You
10:21 PM
wiggly arm guy >:33333
<(>.< )>
bai sophia i’ll see u l8r have a good day sophia nyehehehe
sorry megan stole my phone
Sophia
10:22 PM
Oh okay
o--(._.)--o
Tell her I said hi
It arrived btw
You
10:22 PM
???
oh my god.
Sophia
10:22 PM
Come back by 11
And get Megan some water before you go
“What did she say?” Megan whines, trying to peek over Lara’s shoulder to no avail.
“Nothing,” Lara lies, clicking the power button off and shoving her phone back into her purse before Megan can get her hands on it again. “I gotta leave now, though.”
“Don’t make me drink alone,” Megan quotes, then bursts into a fit of giggles. The bartender glances over at them, confusion etched into her brow. Don’t worry about it, Lara mouths at her, waving her hand until she turns back around. Megan eventually settles, though, pouting her lip before she tips back one of the shots. “But seriously. Don’t make me drink alone.”
“I’m really sorry,” Lara murmurs, wrapping her arms around Megan and nuzzling her face into her shoulder. She’s got this thin sheen of body glitter all over her skin and it’s rubbing off onto her cheek. “I wish I could stay longer.”
Megan huffs, but leans into Lara’s touch anyway. “It’s chill, I get it. I’ll miss you, though.”
“I’ll miss you too. But will you be okay on your own?” Lara frowns, pulling away to assess Megan’s current condition. She doesn’t seem too wasted, which is good. “I don’t wanna ditch you.”
Megan just nods, her acrylic nails already tapping away on her own phone. “I’ll just play Block Blast until my eddy wears off.”
“Oh, okay then. Slay.”
Lara’s, like, halfway out the entrance when she suddenly remembers something. She runs back inside, making her way to the bartender who’s serving another group of girls on the other side of the bar, and calls out to her one last time.
“Hey, umm…” Lara glances at her name tag. “Dani, right?”
“Uh huh?” Dani says, sounding faintly amused. Her eyes keep trailing off to Megan, who’s nursing Lara’s forgotten mojito and chewing on the straw, still blasting blocks like there’s no tomorrow. “How can I help you?”
“Can you get my friend some water, please?” Dani nods, grabbing a cup and filling it up with the tap. “And I’ll pay for the shots, I feel bad.”
“Aww, thank you, baby,” Dani coos, cat-like eyes crinkling as she winks at Lara, which, like, woah. “There’s no need, though. That was on the house.”
“Thanks,” Lara says, suddenly a little nervous. Dani’s, like, scarily pretty. “That’s very sweet of you.”
“I would really appreciate it if you could give me your friend’s number, though.” Dani cocks her head in Megan’s direction. “She’s a cutie.”
“Ough,” Lara winces, cringing. “She has a boyfriend.”
“Oh.”
“No, I’m gonna give it to you anyway,” Lara says quickly, and Dani’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Dani, he’s so fug. If you can get them to break up, I’d literally sell my soul to you.”
“Okay, bet,” Dani laughs as she passes her phone to Lara, smiling when she types Megan’s number in. “Just give me a week or two. Then we can start negotiating.”
Lara snorts. “Honestly? You probably only need one night.”
It is exactly five minutes to eleven when Lara makes it back to their apartment, fumbling with her house key for an embarrassingly long amount of time. It is eleven o’clock on the dot when Lara finally turns the knob at the exact moment Sophia decides to open the door for her, causing the both of them to stumble back inside.
“Ouch,” Sophia says flatly, hands bracing Lara’s shoulders to keep them from keeling over. She’s wearing green silk pajamas with fuzzy pink pig slippers, and she has these glittery yellow gel masks below her eyes. Lara almost wants to laugh at how differently they’re dressed right now.
“My bad,” Lara says apologetically, standing back upright so she can kick off her heels. “You said that the stuff came in the mail?”
Sophia nods, pointing at a medium-sized package sitting in the middle of their living room. “I was gonna open it before you got here, but then I got scared.”
“Scared?” Lara repeats, disbelieving. “Babe, the ropes aren’t gonna leap out at you.”
“It’s stressful!” Sophia says defensively, taking Lara’s key and using it to break the seal on the box and open it. “I’ve never bought stuff like this before.”
“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”
“What?”
“What?”
Sophia stares at her distrustfully for a long moment, but eventually drops it. “What should we do now, then? Like, are we doing this tonight?”
“I mean, the sooner the better, probably,” Lara replies, kneeling down next to Sophia in front of the box to help her take everything out. “We could do it now if you’re not too tired. I know you’re usually in bed by now.”
Sophia hums, examining the label on one of the rope bundles like it’s a cereal box. “I’ll be fine. Should I change, though? Maybe I should’ve gotten lingerie from Temu for this.”
“Lingerie from—” Lara stops, then just shakes her head. “No, I think normal underwear works. It wouldn’t hurt if it matched, though.”
Sophia rolls her eyes. “Wow. How chivalrous.”
“Now what does that even mean???”
They decide to do it in Lara’s room because Sophia's sheets are pastel purple with little bunnies and bears and strawberries and that’s just, like, not the vibe. Adorable, but not the vibe. It doesn’t help that she also has this framed photo of her making a hand heart with this Yoonchae girl (Lara doesn’t know much about her except for the fact that Sophia used to tutor her over Zoom) at her high school graduation staring directly down at her bed. So. Lara’s room.
Except Lara’s been sitting on her bed skimming through Wikihow for the life of her because she forgot to do her homework for the past fifteen minutes, and Sophia’s still missing. Maybe she finally realized how bizarre this whole ordeal is and decided she was better off just booking it— Lara wouldn’t blame her. It would really suck, though, because Lara already tore the packaging off of everything out of boredom and they won’t be able to return the hundred-something dollars Sophia spent on all this shit.
“You’re such a screenager,” someone says from the doorway— it’s Sophia, thank fuck— and Lara’s about to make a snarky comeback when she finally looks up, and… oh, okay. She’s in a matching black set. Her hair is freshly curled. It is time to kill herself.
So Lara knows that Sophia goes to the gym. And Lara knows Sophia’s cup size because their laundry gets mixed up sometimes. And Lara knows that Sophia’s body is objectively tea. That was, like, the whole point of asking her to do this. But knowing and seeing it on full blast in her own room are two very different things. So it’s time for Lara to die.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Sophia deadpans, sitting next to Lara. The mattress dips beneath her weight. “Oh wait, you are gonna be taking pictures. Never mind.”
“Oh my God, Sophia,” Lara groans, burying her face in her hands.
“Come on, don’t make this weird,” Sophia complains, but she sounds self-conscious now. “We’re both—” She stops herself, probably realizing that telling the same person who wrote the lyric “he won’t do you like I would” and posted it on Spotify for the whole world to see that they’re both girls would not lessen the awkwardness of this situation. “It’s not like that, okay, Lara? Come on, let’s just get this over with.”
Lara sighs, still avoiding looking up at Sophia as she unlocks her phone again. “Okay. Wikihow says that step one is consent. Sophia, do I have your consent?”
“What the hell, sure.”
“That’s good enough, I suppose,” Lara murmurs, scrolling down to the bottom of the article. “Aaand the rest of this is unhelpful. It says to practice, but I don’t really feel like doing that. So I’m just gonna find a different tutorial.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sophia frowns. “Like, what if you’re just really fucking bad at tying girls up?”
Lara gasps, offended. “What happened to women supporting women? What happened to the sisterhood?”
“I would rather not be sisters,” Sophia says, wrinkling her nose. “That would make this incestuous.”
“Right. Okay.” Lara clicks through a bunch of random videos, trying to find some pose inspiration and dodging the porn pop-up ads as she goes. “Ooh, how would you feel if I hung you from the ceiling?”
Sophia gives her a side-eye. “There are easier ways to tell me to kill myself, Lara.”
“No, no, it’s actually a thing. See?” Lara shows her the photo she has pulled up of some lady dangling from hooks like a Peking duck from the Chinese place Sophia orders takeout from. It’s not an actual suggestion; she just likes watching all the color drain from Sophia’s face in real time.
“Yeah, no, hard pass.”
Lara snickers, browsing a little more until she finds something she thinks Sophia would be cool with. “What about this, then?”
In the video cover, the girl’s sitting on her knees. Her arms are bound behind her back and she’s got all these criss-cross-whatever knots over her torso, framing her tits and curling around her hips. Sophia takes one glance at it and just shrugs.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” she says. “It looks complicated, though. You sure you don’t wanna do something simpler?”
“It needs to be complicated if I wanna one-up butchstag,” Lara explains, clicking “play” on the tutorial and skipping past the intro. “Wait, should we have a safe word? Isn’t that proper BDSM etiquette?”
“How am I supposed to know?” Sophia says exasperatedly, huddling closer to watch the video with her. Lara can feel her breath on her shoulders. She’s still in the dress she wore to the club, and now she’s really regretting not changing earlier. “What kind of words do people use for that anyway?”
“Random shit like… rutabaga, I dunno,” Lara says. “But there’s also the traffic light thing where you say either green, yellow, or red depending on how comfy you are.”
“That seems fine,” Sophia replies, clearly bored of this side tangent. “I am as green as gangrene right now. Please just get on with it.”
“Bossy,” Lara mutters, not bothering to ask what gangrene even is. She wants to get this over with too because she’s worried that she’s gonna make some really fucking bad decisions if Sophia stays here looking like… like that for too long. “Okay, hold on, I skipped too far. I’ll lock in now.”
“Lara.”
“I said I’m locking in!!”
“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”
Lara pauses, holding the ends of the rope snug in her hands. She’s behind Sophia right now, so she can’t really see what kind of face she’s making. “Yeah, why?”
“You’re just…” Sophia trails off, letting Lara finish binding her wrists together against her back. “Weirdly good at this for a beginner.”
“I mean, I used to make friendship bracelets,” Lara offers, double-checking to make sure that the knot isn’t too tight. “Y’know, the multicolored ones with little butterflies and hearts? I made bank selling those in middle school.”
Sophia scoffs, and Lara finally slides off the bed to assess her work from the front. “I don’t think that’s the same thing.”
“Wow, no way, really?” Lara snorts. It looks pretty damn close to the end result in the video if she does say so herself. “Okay, what color are you right now?”
“Still green,” Sophia nods. “Can you fix the rope around my left thigh, though? It’s cutting off my circulation a little.”
“Yeah, of course. Swing your legs off the side for me?”
Sophia obeys, and Lara kneels in front of her to adjust the rope accordingly. Sophia’s skin is soft and smooth, she observes, and her flesh dimples beneath the red cord. Lara has to snag her finger beneath it to move it, and really, she’s trying so hard not to make it weird in her brain. It is not weird. This is her roommate. She can feel the definition of the muscle in Sophia’s thigh. Fuck, she’s making it weird.
“Better?” Lara asks, trying to make sure her voice doesn’t shake.
Luckily, Sophia seems clueless. “Mhm. Thank you.”
“I think we can get a few poses out of this design,” Lara muses. “In butchstag’s tweet, there were, like, three photos. So I think we need at least three. Maybe one from the front, one from the back, and then something else?”
“Something else?” Sophia repeats. “Like what?”
Lara racks her brain. “I dunno, I could step on your back or something.”
Sophia tries to shrug, but it doesn’t really work because of how her arms are bound. “Okay, sure.”
“Wait, really?” Lara says, shocked. “I thought that would be too hardcore for you.”
“I’m not a prude, Lara,” Sophia sniffs. “I can take it.”
Lara blushes, her face burning even though what Sophia said was barely even an innuendo. God, what is her problem tonight? “Point taken.”
She helps Sophia back up onto the mattress, their knees digging into the dark grey sheets. The deep red looks great against her warm complexion and black bra— Lara was right, red is sexy as fuck— and really, the pictures are turning out spectacular. Lara tries to recreate the angle from the video cover, but gives up because she doesn’t want Sophia’s face to end up in the final cut.
“Are you okay with your hair being in the photos, by the way?” Lara asks as she takes a close-up of the lattice over Sophia’s stomach. “I don’t think people would be able to recognize you from just that, but if you’re uncomfortable with it…”
“I don’t really care,” Sophia sighs, softening her posture when Lara nudges her. Her back’s always so rigid— Lara needs her to, like, relax a little. “I trust your judgement.”
“Okay,” Lara exhales, relieved, getting back behind Sophia and snapping a shot of the ropework on her arms. “I think I got everything I need besides the stepping-on-your-back thing. I would rather not be barefoot, so, like… do you mind if I wear shoes?”
“You should wear the heels you were wearing when you came in,” Sophia simply says, so Lara’s just gonna assume that she doesn’t mind. “That’s, like, ultimate thirst trapping material.”
It’s a little weird, leaving Sophia tied up on the bed as she scurries to the front entrance of their apartment to grab her shoes, but there’s not much else Lara can do besides go faster. Sophia’s still sitting politely in the middle of Lara’s bed when she comes back, watching with idle interest as she secures the straps on her heels.
“Can you lay down from that position?” Lara instructs her. “Like, keep your knees tucked, but bend over. Yeah, like that.”
The heels wobble and sink into the memory foam, which is annoying, so Lara presses one hand up against the ceiling to balance herself. Maybe they should’ve done this on the floor, but she’s too lazy to try to reposition everything. So, with trembling legs, Lara raises one foot and prods it between Sophia’s shoulder blades.
Sophia lets out a little sound as the heel digs into her back, something halfway between a squeak and a gasp, so Lara stops. “Color?”
“Green,” Sophia says, but she sounds a little breathless. “‘M fine, you can keep going.”
Lara feels a bit ridiculous, whipping out her phone at a time like this, but she’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. She plays around a little with the positioning of the camera and of her foot, trying to find something that matches the vision she has in her brain, and eventually, she finds it.
“I think I got it,” Lara says happily, swiping through all the photos she took and favoriting the ones she wants to post later. “Thank you so much, babe.”
She expects Sophia to say something like “Glad to help,” or even ““You owe me now.” But Sophia doesn’t respond at all. She’s kinda-sorta just… quivering a little, and her breathing’s clipped and uneven. And then Lara realizes that her foot is still pressing into Sophia’s back.
“Oh, shit,” Lara swears, quickly lifting it off, but she can see the indent her heel left behind, already starting to bruise. “I’m so sorry, Sophia, are you okay?”
“Mhm,” Sophia mumbles, her words muffled and her cheek squished against Lara’s sheets. “Never better. Never greener.”
“Are you sure?” Lara presses, genuinely worried as she settles down and helps Sophia sit back up. “Doesn’t it hurt here?”
Stupidly, she presses her fingers against the red mark on Sophia’s back. Genuinely, she doesn’t know what possesses her to do that. But when she does, Sophia’s reaction is immediate: she tenses up, her whole body shivering, and lets out a little wheeze. No, not a wheeze… oh, fuck.
“Oh, okay,” Lara says dumbly. “Um. Wow.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sophia apologizes profusely, the words rushing out. Her cheeks are bright pink. “I know I said not to make it weird, but in my defense, I didn’t know that this was something that would…”
Turn me on, she doesn’t say, but Lara hears it loud and clear. She doesn’t even know how to reply— it’s like her entire nervous system just crashed and there’s a blank blue screen where her brain’s supposed to be. Okay. Wow. Okay. So how is she supposed to be normal about this again?
The logical conclusion is that there is no way for Lara to go about this normally. So she might as well just say “fuck it” and poke that bruise again because the noise Sophia made was very pretty and she’d like to hear it again.
Again, Sophia jolts, but this time, she just grits her teeth and stifles herself. Boo.
“Lara,” she warns, and somehow, it sounds more like a plea. Her wrists are straining against the red ropes like she’s trying to wrench herself free, and all of a sudden, Lara’s worried that she really fucked this up.
“I can stop,” Lara says gently, pulling away and taking her heels off because they’ve done enough damage for tonight. “Do you want me to untie you now?”
But Sophia just shakes her head. “I’m…” She swallows hard, like this is difficult for her to say. “I’m still green. If that’s okay.”
???
Now. Two things. One, this is her roommate. Sleeping with someone you live with is never a good idea, especially if you guys aren’t, like… a thing. And Lara and Sophia aren’t a thing. But two, Sophia looks so good right now, with her tousled hair and glossy lips. And she just told Lara that she’s chill with her touching her and trying to make her moan. So really, this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and Lara’s stupid if she lets it go.
“Yeah,” Lara says unsteadily. Fuck, her hands are shaking so bad. “Yeah, that’s okay. Can I…?”
She rubs her thumb over Sophia’s exposed shoulder, then bows her head down to kiss it. It’s less of a kiss and more just dull pressure— nothing crazy, not yet. Sophia’s breath hitches, her teeth digging into her bottom lip, and she nods jerkily. Okay. This is good.
Lara helps Sophia lie down, marveling at how her dark hair fans out over her pillow. Once she’s sure that Sophia’s comfortable, she gets herself into a straddling position, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of Sophia’s waist so that they’re at eye level. Then, she bends down, letting her lips graze against Sophia’s jaw.
“Let me know if it’s ever too much,” Lara murmurs against Sophia’s skin, mouthing at her neck. Sophia tilts her head away to give her easier access, and Lara can feel her heartbeat against her lips as she sucks down on her pulse point. She must’ve sprayed perfume there before she came to Lara’s room— Lara can taste it, the chemical bitterness and sweet patchouli. She’s kind of obsessed.
“Ah,” Sophia vocalizes as Lara scrapes her teeth along the new hickey she just made, so Lara stops, pulling away so her breath ghosts against Sophia’s skin. “No, it’s not bad. Keep going, please?”
Lara does, letting her mouth wander down to Sophia’s clavicle and sticking her tongue out to lick there. Again, Sophia’s okay with this, so Lara wonders if she isn’t as uptight as she thought. She pushes it further, playing with one of the straps of Sophia’s bra that’s trapped beneath the rope. If she can unhook Sophia’s bra, Lara could probably pull the cups up and over her chest. Lara looks up at Sophia for permission only to find her already staring back, her pupils blown and dark and her lip bitten raw.
“Green,” Sophia says hoarsely, arching her back a little so Lara can reach the clasp of her bra. Lara didn’t think Sophia would be this compliant, but she’s not complaining. The clasp gives easily, and with a little bit of maneuvering, Lara can shimmy Sophia’s bra up and…
“Wow,” Lara says eloquently, and Sophia makes an embarrassed sound, turning her head away and avoiding eye contact at all costs. “Sophia, you’re so fucking pretty.”
They fit perfectly in her hands, Lara soon learns. Sophia doesn’t like when she pinches her nipples, but she likes when she sucks on them, or even just rolls them between her fingers. She lets Lara bite and leave marks as she pleases, but she squirms away when she squeezes. Lara files away all this information in her brain, but she doesn’t know why. It’s not like she’s gonna need this reference in the future.
She likes watching Sophia’s face while she’s doing all this, though. She has this habit of always emoting with her whole face even when she’s so obviously trying to hold it in, and this is usually just weirdly endearing, but right now, it’s lowkey doing it for Lara. The way Sophia’s lashes flutter, the way her eyes squeeze shut then fly right open, the way her mouth falls open without her realizing it… yeah, Lara’s hooked. And the little sounds she’s making? Absolutely divine.
“Lara,” Sophia rasps, sounding ragged, needy. She squeezes her thighs together, shifting around like she’s uncomfortable. “Stop teasing.”
Lara chuckles, but obeys, letting her lips trail down along Sophia’s torso. One night, kissing on your body, she thinks, but quickly stops herself because referencing your own song is cringe. Sophia’s a little ticklish, Lara notices, but she tries to hold still as Lara traces the red cords with her fingers. The predicament now, Lara realizes with a frown, is that the ropes go, like, right over Sophia’s underwear. So she can’t really take it off or even pull it to the side.
That doesn't mean they're out of options, though. “I have an idea,” Lara tells Sophia, sliding off the mattress to open her bedside drawer. “Stay with me. It might be weird.”
“I’m with you,” Sophia replies, sitting up and trying to peek as Lara riffles through her things. “What are you looking for?”
When Lara resurfaces, she’s brandishing a baby pink mini wand in her hand, and Sophia looks more lost than ever.
“It’s clean,” Lara quickly says, in case that was of any concern. “And it has five modes. See?”
She clicks through them rapid-fire to demonstrate, but Sophia doesn’t seem to find this very helpful, so Lara just sighs. “Girl, have you never seen a vibrator before?”
“Not really?” Sophia says helplessly. “I just do it, like, the old-fashioned way.”
“The old-fashioned way?” Lara echoes, equally helpless. “Oh, Sophia. No.”
“I already said I don’t buy this type of stuff!” Sophia groans, letting her head flop back. “Don’t be mean about it.”
Lara sighs again, climbing back onto the bed. “Look, why don’t I just show you how it works? I’ll put it against your leg.”
She nudges Sophia’s knees apart before turning the vibe onto the lowest setting, gently pressing it against her inner thigh. Sophia flinches a little when it makes contact, but doesn’t really react otherwise.
“Feels weird,” she murmurs, leaning against the headboard of the bed. “I don’t know about this.”
“Trust me on this one,” Lara says reassuringly, rocking the vibrator in little circles and guiding it closer and closer to Sophia’s cunt. “I think you’ll like it.”
Lara’s practically on her stomach now, kneeling between Sophia’s legs and bracing her free hand on one of them. She lets the wand linger in place for a little while longer before finally pressing it against Sophia’s clit through the fabric of her underwear. The effect is immediate: Sophia lets out the prettiest gasp, spreading her thighs even further apart as her hips roll forward. Good girl, Lara thinks distantly, as she switches the wand to a higher intensity.
“Oh,” Sophia suddenly sobs, sounding choked. Her chest heaves as she lets out a shuddering moan, whining “Lar, baby, fuck—”
And then Lara can feel her pulsing beneath the toy as Sophia clenches around nothing, can feel the strain in the muscles of Sophia’s leg beneath her fingers as she shudders. Caught off-guard, Lara quickly clicks the vibe off, but Sophia’s still shaking, winded and wrecked. Holy shit.
“Did you just—?”
Sophia nods stiffly, humiliation flushing her skin a warm pink. She turns away from Lara, but Lara tilts her chin back with her hand so that she has to look her in the eye.
“Could you call me that again?” Lara says softly. Lar, baby, she’d just sang so sweetly. Fuck, if Sophia has any idea what that does to her, what that makes her feel—
“No,” Sophia says flatly. Damn.
“Come on, Fifi. Please?” Lara coos, rubbing Sophia’s thigh. She tries to put on her best puppy-dog eyes, pouting her lip the way Megan likes to. “I’ll make you come again if you do.”
“I can’t,” Sophia says confusedly. She doesn’t worm out of Lara’s touch, though. “Not right after I just did.”
“Mm, I think you can, though,” Lara hums, her lips curling into a smile as she turns the vibrator back on. Sophia yelps, instinctively trying to writhe away, but Lara just keeps it pinned against her underwear. “You just have to say the magic word.”
“You’re so cringe,” Sophia complains, clenching her teeth. Lara can see the quiver in her lip, though. She’s crumbling.
“Color?” Lara asks coolly as she flicks the vibe through its modes before settling on one that pulsates rhythmically. Sophia jolts, trying to clamp her legs shut, but Lara keeps them spread open. She even lowers herself back down so she can bite the softest part of her inner thigh. Sophia whimpers.
“Please,” she begs as she grinds herself against the toy, which is cute, but not what Lara’s looking for. “Lara, please—”
Lara pulls the vibrator away from Sophia’s cunt, ignoring the devastated sound she makes. “It’s a very simple question,” she says teasingly, waving the wand tauntingly in the air as it continues to buzz away. “C’mon, use your words.”
Sophia glares at her, but seeing that Lara really won’t continue unless she responds, she eventually swallows her pride. “Green.”
“Good girl,” Lara croons, and Sophia sobs in relief when the vibe is back against her clit. “You’re so good, Phia. So pretty.”
Lara quickly figures out that there are tell-tale signs for when Sophia’s about to come. The muscles in her stomach tighten, her back begins to slightly arch. Her voice raises at least, like, two octaves. She should really get Sophia in the studio at some point because her range is lowkey insane. She tries to bury her face in her shoulder, like she doesn’t want to be seen as she falls apart. She starts chanting Lara’s name like it’s something holy.
“Lara,” Sophia cries, her voice cracking as she starts to tremble again. “Lara, Lara, Lara—”
But Lara abruptly turns off the vibrator, and Sophia lets out a frustrated whine. She struggles against the ropes binding her arms, straining so hard that Lara’s sure it has to hurt.
She doesn’t relent, though. “You know what I wanna hear,” Lara just says smugly. “You said it so easily earlier.”
“No,” Sophia retorts petulantly, jutting out her chin. She even sticks her tongue out at her. Brat.
“We can be here all night,” Lara shrugs, smirking when Sophia curses as she turns the vibrator up to its strongest setting. “I’ll wait.”
It’s a very tedious affair, given how stubborn Sophia is. A few minutes of this on-and-off game pass before a tremor settles in Sophia’s legs. Several more crawl by before the muscles of her stomach go taut. Honestly, Lara’s wrist is getting tired, but she’s certainly not bored. Like it or not, Sophia’s putting on one hell of a show for her, and Lara can tell that she’s about to break.
“Nuh-uh, Fifi,” Lara chides as the vibrator stops for what has to be the twentieth time. She rubs Sophia’s clit through the fabric of her underwear only to find it soaked through already, practically frictionless as she drags her thumb up and down. Sophia’s groaning something incoherently, something that vaguely sounds like a plea. “Not yet.”
Lara takes in this version of Sophia for a moment: she’s a complete mess. Her hair, once perfectly curled, has lost all of its volume and is now mussed beyond help. Her bra is still yanked up and over her tits, and Lara can clearly see the marks she left behind earlier. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused. She’s not resisting her restraints anymore; any semblance of defiance is long gone. Lara decides that she really, really likes her like this. She wishes that she could take a picture, but she’s pretty sure Sophia would kill her if she did.
“Baby,” Sophia finally whimpers, and Lara feels it hot and low in her gut. “Baby, please, I need you so bad.”
Fuck.
Lara can’t help but surge up to kiss her. Sophia’s mouth obediently falls open when Lara crushes their lips together and presses her tongue against hers. She can faintly taste Sophia’s sweet gloss as she bites down on her bottom lip, and it’s more addicting than she’d care to admit. When Lara clumsily turns the vibrator back on, Sophia moans into her mouth so unabashedly that Lara has to kiss her harder so that their neighbors don’t overhear. Lara doesn’t think Sophia’s ever been this loud.
“Oh,” Sophia sobs, her head lolling to the side and her thighs twitching from overstimulation. “Lar, I—”
“It’s okay,” Lara murmurs soothingly as Sophia gasps for air, tensing up all over. “It’s okay, Fifi. Give it to me.”
It turns out that Sophia can be very quiet, too. When she comes this time, her lips part into a perfect “O” and her eyes flutter shut. She slumps against Lara’s shoulder as she pulses, pulses, pulses against the vibe. It lasts for a long time, this quiet moment, before Sophia sniffles, tears of exertion smearing across her face. Lara turns the vibrator down but keeps it on, gently coaxing all the aftershocks out of her.
“You did so good,” Lara praises, rubbing Sophia’s hip. Sophia just lets out this long, shuddering exhale as the wand finally, finally turns off. She lets Lara kiss her cheek, even leans into it. “Thank you for letting me do that with you.”
Even though she’s clearly fucking exhausted, Sophia preens a little under Lara’s doting. Princess treatment, it seems, is the way to go with her. Which makes sense, somehow.
“I can’t feel my arms,” she rasps. Oh. Lara almost forgot about the whole bondage thing.
She helps Sophia sit up and starts to untie her, gently pulling the ropes away and undoing all the complex knots. There are harsh red imprints on her arms from her struggle, but she seems fine otherwise. When she’s finally free, Sophia gingerly rubs her wrists, wincing as her fingers brush against fresh welts. She fumbles as she clips her bra back into place and tugs it back down, as if in a daze, and looks back up at Lara. She only manages to hold eye contact for a few seconds before her head ducks back down, suddenly self-conscious.
“What about you?” Sophia asks tentatively. “You never…”
“It’s okay,” Lara says, smiling as she smooths out a tangle in Sophia’s hair. “I had a lot of fun. It was good for me, too.”
Really, this is just a nicer way of saying that Lara’s gonna be hearing Sophia’s moans every time she gets off for the next month or so, but Sophia doesn’t need to know that.
Sophia pouts, puffing out her cheek. Cute. “Do you want to shower with me, then? I feel, like, so sticky right now. And gross.”
“Sure,” Lara agrees, and Sophia perks right back up. There’s this vision forming in the back of Lara’s head of her and Sophia shampooing each other’s hair, kissing beneath the warm spray. It’s disgustingly domestic. Given how Sophia’s looking at her right now, though, it doesn’t seem entirely unrealistic. It seems genuinely plausible, actually.
When Sophia slides off of her bed and starts walking to the bathroom, Lara follows her. She closes the door behind them, and when Sophia stares at her longingly as she undresses, it feels like they’re not just roommates anymore.
So, they do a little more than just kissing.
“Phia,” Lara hisses, one of her hands tangling into Sophia’s hair. “Phia, shit, slow down.”
“Mmph,” Sophia hums, mouth muffled against Lara’s cunt. Her eyes are fluttered shut in concentration, her head bobbing as she fucks her tongue into Lara harder. It’s making Lara’s legs turn into jello, knees buckling. Sophia has her hands braced beneath Lara’s thighs, though, so she doesn’t just flop straight to the ground.
Let me take care of you, Sophia had said so innocently, wrapping her arms around Lara’s waist as she hugged her from behind. I just wanna make you feel good, too. Can I try?
Bullshit, Lara thinks as Sophia expertly flicks her tongue against her clit in a way that has her seeing stars. She’s made her come like this twice now. How is her mouth not tired?
“You’re insane,” Lara gasps, and she can feel Sophia smirking. She’s sucking her clit again, tracing little circles around it with her tongue. Her mouth is so warm, so perfect. It’s too much.
“Fuck!” Lara groans, nails scrabbling against the smooth tiles of the shower wall as her third orgasm tears through her. Her eyes roll back as numbing pleasure floods her body, like a never-ending euphoric high. Her mind goes blank— she thinks she might be moaning.
Sophia rocks her tongue against her slit as Lara shakes, hips bucking into her face. She doesn’t stop until Lara yanks her head back by her hair. She’s panting, pupils blown and chin stained with glossy wetness. Lara watches as Sophia licks her lips, lapping up whatever she can. It’s kinda driving her crazy.
“We’re even now, yes?” Sophia says breathlessly, letting go of Lara’s legs. They tremble a little, but eventually steady themselves. The shower spray is still going— they never actually finished washing up. “Wait, let me get up. I’ll help you rinse your hair.”
Her touch is gentle as she combs her fingers through Lara’s hair, gently massaging her scalp. The air hangs heavy with thick steam and mild floral fragrance from Sophia’s shampoo. She’s looking at Lara with this sickeningly sweet fondness in her eyes— it’s making her feel kinda melty.
“It’s funny,” Lara murmurs absent-mindedly as Sophia pulls away to wring out her own hair. “For years, I was convinced you were, like, straight.”
Sophia pauses, then frowns a little. “What? No, I’m bi. I have the sticker on my laptop. The gradient heart?”
She says this as if it should’ve been the most obvious thing in the world. Lara can’t help but laugh. “Girl, how was I supposed to notice that?”
“Fair,” Sophia acquiesces, waiting for Lara to nod before she turns off the water. She peels back the shower curtain, stepping out first and handing Lara her towel. They stand there for a moment together, wrapped up with dripping hair and looking stupid, before Sophia breaks the silence once more.
“So, what happens now?”
Lara has an inkling of what she could be talking about, but she pivots to something safer just in case. “We go to bed and cuddle, hopefully,” she jokes.
Sophia rolls her eyes at her as she plugs in her blow dryer. “No, I mean. What about us? Are we, like…” She points the Dyson back and forth between them, its cable swinging wildly along with her hand’s movements. “A thing now? I don’t usually do hookups.”
She’s trying to say it in this nonchalant, unbothered way, like she isn’t really being serious. But Lara can read her: she knows that Sophia’s nervous right now. It’s written in the way her brow is slightly creased, in the way her lip is ticking downward.
So Lara needs to, like, put the ijbol away and lock in. “Do you want to be?” she asks.
Sophia chews her lip. “Well, I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.”
Nerd, Lara thinks affectionately. “That’s tea,” she says, smiling. “Can you handle me, though?”
Sophia sets down the Dyson, then grabs Lara by the chin. Lara’s noise of surprise is quickly muffled against Sophia’s lips as she slots their mouths together, just for one moment. She pulls away just as quickly as she had pounced forward, swiping her thumb over Lara’s bottom lip as she drags her tongue over her own.
“I think I can handle you just fine,” Sophia says, a bit breathlessly. She drops her hand from Lara’s face and picks the blow dryer back up, and it soon starts whirring away. She takes her time drying her hair, pointedly avoiding Lara’s dumbfounded expression reflecting in the mirror. This woman is going to be the death of her.
“Phia,” Lara finally manages after a few minutes. Sophia shuts the hair dryer off before turning to face her. “Can you kiss me like that again?”
@wave2lars: lara wave2lars is younger and more beautiful and more talented at rigging #ratio
Aaand posted. Boom. Her work is done.
“Now we just wait,” she tells Sophia. Sophia’s snuggling against her chest, barely awake as she hums in response. Which is fair, given that it’s almost 4 AM. They’re curled up in Sophia’s bed, tucked in with the bears and bunnies and strawberries printed on her sheets and this giant plush rabbit with a little orange bow around its neck and a stupid expression stitched into its face. It’s the coziest Lara’s felt, like, ever.
“Do you think this is going to work?” Sophia mumbles, stifling a yawn. She’s cute when she’s sleepy. “I hope you win.”
“They only got a few thousand likes on the tweet I’m quoting, see?” Lara explains, tilting her phone so that Sophia can squint at the bright screen. “So it shouldn’t be hard to ratio them.”
“I don’t really get it,” Sophia says, wrapping her arm possessively around Lara’s waist. “But I’m proud of you, I think.”
Lara turns off her phone and sets it on the bedside table, then shifts a little so she can kiss Sophia on the crown of her head. “Babe, if we win, it’s all thanks to you.”
She can feel Sophia’s breath, warm against her bare skin, start to even out as she drifts off into unconsciousness. So, Lara tugs her a little closer, then lets herself doze off as well. If this is the way she falls asleep every day for the rest of her life, she wouldn’t really mind.
To Lara’s surprise, it isn’t Sophia that wakes her up the next morning. It’s her own phone, pinging every other split second. And when she clicks the power button just to see what time it is, a whole wall of Twitter notifications fills the entire screen.
So, the tweet went viral. Oops.
@aquamarquise: ??? ????
@meimeiyok: LARA OH MY GOD ?!?!?!?
@doeeyedmanon: OOMF I’M CRYINGGGG
@theerajberry: me next?? please???
@marisoloist: wait who’s that girl tho…
@urhotbassist: omg real she’s lowk a baddie i kinda need her
@RAWJAGOPALAN: @wave2lars protect dat femme’s butt.
@d1homegrl: okay so no
@pokimanelol: no she’s real as fuck for that can lara please share
@d1homegrl: ???? POKIMANE WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE
Most of the comments are just GIFs. There’s a bunch of this cat sticking its tongue out, several more of a dog tearing a bunch of cabbages the fuck up. One lesbian keeps spamming the same GIF of Britanny Broski licking her hand. Which, like, okay. You do you, girl.
There’s one reply that sticks out, though, because it’s in a different language. It’s been autotranslated by Grok from Korean, which is annoying, but when Lara reads what it says, her heart drops to her stomach.
@chae___pg07: 소피아언니?
Sister Sophia? « Show original »
Oh, shit.
“Mmm, baby, turn it off,” Sophia groans, burying her face into Lara’s neck and hugging her tighter. This would be so incredibly endearing if Lara was not freaking out right now. “‘S too early.”
“Phia,” Lara says slowly, a nervous smile trembling on her lips as Sophia blinks the sleepiness away from her eyes. “Do you know if Yoonchae has Twitter?”
“What?” Sophia mumbles, clearly confused. “Why do you ask?”
Lara swallows hard. “I think I fucked up.”
You
11:47 AM
sophia please i’m sorry
please it’s been two weeks i miss u 💔💔💔
phia 💟
11:47 AM
No.
You
11:48 AM
fifi 🥺🥺🥺
if you want me to take down the tweet i can ??
phia 💟
11:48 AM
Unfortunately butchstag still deserves to die you can keep it up
You
11:48 AM
omg i said the same thing to my friend wow we’re so similar hahahahaha
phia 💟
11:48 AM
Sigh fine yes you can hit
You
11:49 AM
YAY!
YAY!
YAY!
phia 💟
11:49 AM
I have a class at 2
Come back before then
You
11:49 AM
me when a bad bitch tells me to do something
On my way!
phia 💟
11:50 AM
Oh okay
Where even are you right now?
You
11:50 AM
oomfchella
we’re wrapping up brunch now tho
Sent a photo.
phia 💟
11:51 AM
Yoonchae????
You
11:51 AM
she followed me back lol
best friends 🖤🩵
she says hi
phia 💟
11:51 AM
I’m going to kill you.