Array
(
[text] =>
Okay so, the last voting was pretty split between three options. I was debating posting the first chapter of each so you could vote that way butttt I decided against that and will just leave you with the descriptions instead and maybe a piece of the first chapter.
I FINALLY THOUGHT OF A PLOT FOR KIKA.
Here are your options:
1. Back When You Were Mine | Kika Gomes x Y/n
Description:
They grew up together. Fell in love too young. And held on longer than they should have.
Loving Y/n was never the problem. It was everything that came with herโ the streets, the danger, the constant fear that one day she wouldn’t make it back home.
Kika stayed anyway. Until staying started to feel like drowning. Years later, she’s built a life that finally feels safeโsteady, quiet, far from the chaos she once called love. Then she sees her again. And just like that, the past isn’t past anymore. Because some people don’t stay in the past.
And no matter how much time goes by… some people still feel like yours.
STORY SNEAK PEEK:
Kika’s POV
~5 Years Ago
“StopโstopโY/n/n, I’m seriousโ” I squealed and laughed, my face getting hot.
“I’m not even doing anything,” she laughs, voice right against my ear as her hand sneaks back under my hoodie anyway, her lips nibbling my ear before she places soft kisses on my neck and jaw.
“You are literallyโ” I grab her wrist, trying to pull it away, but I’m already smiling, already losing. “You’re so annoying.”
“That’s crazy,” she murmurs, completely unbothered, shifting over me like she’s got every right to be there. “You were just begging for attention two seconds ago.”
“I was not begging,” I say, scoffing as she nudges her knee between mine, trapping me in place. She laughsโfull, warm, the kind that makes my chest feel lighter than it shouldโand dips her head, brushing her lips just under my jaw.
“Mmhm,” she hums.
“Shut up,” I mumble, but my grip on her hoodie tightens instead of pushing her away. I loved being in her arms; I felt safe. Her fingers are finally still against my side, tracing lazy circles like she’s got nowhere else to be. Like she didn’t just come home late again. Like she hasn’t been gone every day this week.
Like this is normal. Like this is enough.
She leans back slightly, studying me. “You waited up for me.”
I shrug, trying to play it off. “I like your room.”
“Liar.”
“You’re not even here half the time, it’s peaceful.”
“That’s crazy,” she says, grabbing a pillow and lightly smacking me with it.
I laugh, catching it and tossing it aside. “I’m serious. Your little siblings are nicer to me than you are.”
“They like you more than me.”
“They should,” I say easily. “I’m actually pleasant to be around.”
She narrows her eyes. “That’s debatable.”
“Not really.”
She shakes her head, smiling under her breath, and then her hand finds mineโabsent, instinctive, like it always does.
Her phone buzzes. Not the one buried somewhere in her hoodie. The other one. The one she doesn’t leave out. The one that doesn’t exist when I ask about it. The burner. It lights up on the nightstand beside us. Sharp. Out of place. I notice it immediately.
Of course I do.
Y/n does too. Her hand stills against mine. Just for a second. Then she shiftsโlike she’s about to lean over me for it. I grab her wrist.
“No.”
She pauses. “Kiโ”
“No,” I repeat, tightening my grip just slightly, my voice low but steady. “Not tonight.”
“It could beโ”
“I don’t care what it could be,” I cut in, shaking my head. “No. Leave it.”
It buzzes again. Her eyes flick to it. That hesitation. That split second where she’s already halfway somewhere else. And something in my chest tightens.
“Kika, I just need toโ”
“For fuck’s sake,” I breathe, sitting up now, pulling my hand away from hers. “You just got here.”
“I know, butโ”
“But nothing,” I snap, looking at her properly now. “You’ve been gone all week.”
She exhales, already tense. “I didn’t say I wasn’t.”
“No, you just don’t say anything at all,” I shoot back. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing out there?”
Her jaw tightens. “I didn’t say that either.”
“Right,” I say, letting out a short, humorless laugh. “You just disappear, come home late every night, don’t text, don’t callโnothing. And I don’t say anything.”
“Kikaโ”
“I didn’t ask where you were. Didn’t ask who you were with. Didn’t ask why you keep coming home smelling likeโ”
“I don’tโ”
I ignore her interjection, my voice quieter now but sharper. “And tonight you actually come home normal for once, and you’re gonna reach for that the second it buzzes?”
The phone buzzes again. Louder this time. Or maybe it just feels louder. She looks at it. I see it. That pull. And I hate it. “If you pick that up,” I say, holding her gaze now, “I’m going home.”
That lands. Her attention snaps back to me. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious.”
A beat. Then I add, softerโbut heavier: “It’s bad enough I have to argue with my parents about being with you.”
I see it in her face. That got her. “I’m not coming over here just to argue with you too.”
The room goes quiet. The phone stops buzzing. And for a second, neither of us moves. Her hand flexes like she doesn’t know what to do with it. Thenโ
“…Aight,” she mutters.
She reaches over. Flips it face down without even checking. My chest loosens just a little.
“See?” she says, quieter now, glancing back at me. “Problem solved.”
I look at her. Because it’s not. We both know it’s not. But she’s trying. And that’s always been the problem. I exhale slowly, letting some of the tension slip, and she pulls me back into her like nothing happenedโlike it’s automatic. “Come here,” she murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.
I don’t fight it. I never do.
. . .
Present Day
“Kikaโbreathe. Heyโhey, look at me. Breathe.”
Everything crashes back too fast. The music. The lights. The crowd. My chest feels tightโtoo tightโand I can’t tell if I’m breathing too fast or not at all.
“Iโ” My voice shakes. “I can’tโ“
“You can, you’re okay,” someone says, hands on my shoulders, grounding, but it’s not working. “In through your nose, out through your mouthโ”
I shake my head, vision blurring. “IโI needโ”
Air. I need air. But it’s like my lungs forgot how to work. Everything feels loud and far away at the same time. “What happened?” someone else asks. “She was fine a second agoโ”
“I don’tโKika, talk to meโ”
I can’t. My eyes lift. And I see her. Right there. Walking away from the crowd, security around her, people swarming her like she belongs here. Like she was always meant to be here.
Like she didn’tโ My breath stutters. No. No, no, noโ
I swallow hard, my chest tightening even more.
I never thought I’d see her again.
Not like this.
And just like thatโ I can’t breathe.
. . .
2. Risk It All | Florence Pugh x Y/n
Description: Y/n Davies is a young film student at USC and the lifelong best friend of Raffie Pugh โ she’s practically family. Florence Pugh, Raffie’s older sister and one of Hollywood’s brightest stars, was supposed to know better. She was the older one, the movie star, the sister with everything under control. But when Florence comes home from filming and realizes Y/n isn’t the same little girl she once knew, but now, grown โ a magnetic, impossible-to-ignore woman โ everything she thought she knew about boundaries begins to unravel. She starts seeing Y/n in a light she’d never seen her in before. A forbidden love affair threatens to shatter Florence’s family, her career, and the only image the world allows her to keep. When a sister’s betrayal sparks devastating fallout, Florence is left standing in the wreckage of her choices, torn between everything she’s built and the one person she was never meant to love.
Sneak Peek:
Florence’s POV
I don’t mean to stare. It just… happens. One second I’m half-listening to whatever Raffie’s arguing about, drink in my hand, finally relaxing after weeks of nonstop workโand the next, my eyes land on her. And stay there.
Y/n is sitting cross-legged on the floor, laughing at something Toby said, head tilted back just slightly. It’s easy. Effortless. Like she’s always been here. Like she belongs here.
Whichโshe does. She always has.
So whyโ I frown slightly, shifting where I sit. Why does she look… different? Not in a dramatic way. Not in a who is that way. Justโ Older. Confident. Comfortable in a way I don’t remember. My gaze lingers. A second too long. Then another. I should look away. I don’t.
“Floโare you even playing?” Raffie’s voice snaps me out of it. I blink, dragging my attention back to the cards in my hand like I’ve been focused this entire time. “Yeah, I’m playing,” I say.
I am not playing. Not really. Because even as the conversation picks back upโ My eyes drift again. Like they’ve already decided where they want to be. Jesus.
I shift, pulling my phone out under the table, angling it so no one can see.
Flo โก : I feel like such a creep…
ScarJo โก : Oh this should be entertaining, what’d you do now?
Flo โก : I can’t stop looking at Raffie’s friend
Scarlett: since when is that a crime
Flo โก : since she’s still like 12 in my brain
Scarlett: okay well is she 12 in real life
Flo โก : obviously not
Scarlett: then relax
Flo โก : no scar this is bad
Flo โก : I used to babysit her and right now, I can’t take my eyes off of her
There’s a pause. I glance up againโ And of course, she’s looking at me this time. Like she caught me. Like she knows. My stomach drops. I look back down at my phone immediately. I lock my phone, shoving it back into my lap like that’s going to fix anything.
It doesn’t. My eyes find her again. Automatically.
. . .
3. Now We’re Strangers | Alexandra Saint Mleux x Y/n [Sequel to “Truth In The Lies”]
Description: They don’t speak. They don’t look. They don’t dare.
After their affair explodes in public, Y/n Reeves pours her heartbreak into music, while Alexandra Saint Mleux smiles for the cameras beside Charles Leclerc. On the surface, they’re strangers now. But love doesn’t die just because you bury it โand when their worlds collide again, the truth is harder to hide than ever.
Sneak Peek:
Alex’s POV
“I’m glad you made it.” I smile before I even register who’s speaking. “Of course,” I say, leaning in slightly, offering the usual greeting, the kind that’s second nature at this point. It sounds right. It always does.
I move through the room like I belong here. Like this is easy. Like I’m comfortable.
Like none of this feels like it’s pressing in on me from every direction.
I can feel Charles beside me more than I can actually feel him. Close enough that I’m aware of him. Not close enough to feel anything else. His hand brushes my back briefly. It looks intentional from the outside. It isn’t.
“Fix your face.”
His voice is low. Controlled. Close to my ear. I don’t react. “I am smiling,” I murmur back, barely moving my lips. “It looks forced.”
I keep my gaze forward, watching someone across the room laugh at something I didn’t hear. “I told you I didn’t want to come tonight.” A pause.
“You didn’t have a choice.”
Something shifts in my chest. Not sharp. Not loud. Just… there. Someone approaches us and Charles straightens immediately, like a switch flipped.
I follow a second later. Smile in place. Posture corrected. Everything exactly where it should be.
“Alex, hiโ”
“Hi,” I say easily, like I haven’t just been told how to stand, how to look, how to exist. I laugh when expected. Tilt my head at the right moments. Let the conversation pass over me like I’m actually in it.
Across from me, Kika is watching. It’s subtle. Anyone else would miss it. I don’t. Rebecca notices too. Her expression softens for half a second before she masks it. They don’t say anything. They don’t have to. I pick up my glass just to give my hands something to do.
I said I wanted to fix things. I meant it. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. I knew it would take work. I just didn’t think it would feel like this.
Like I’m being adjusted. Like I’m being watched. Like every small thing I do is being measured against something I can’t quite reach anymore.
“Alex?”
I blink, realizing someone just spoke to me. “Sorryโwhat?” Rebecca smiles, soft and careful.
“I asked if you’re staying in Milan long.”
“Just for a bit,” I say, the answer slipping out smoothly. “We’ve got a few things planned.”
We. The word feels wrong the second I say it. Charles nods beside me like it belongs to him too.
Like I belong to him too. I smile again. Wider this time. More convincing. Exactly what’s expected. And for some reasonโ it’s never felt more fake.
[text_hash] => 2955d45a
)