#introverts playground

[les4elliewilliams]

❝𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝚰𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝚰𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑.❞

ghostface!bestfriend!ellie ✗ fem reader

❝𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝚰 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.❞

⚠︎︎︎.ᐟ ⌞warnings ⊹ cw⌝ ﹕ approx 20k words. (ik im sorry im always yapping too much.) headcanons!! mention of blood/murders, drugs usage. childhoodbestfriend!𝑒, perv!𝑒, ghostface!𝑒, switch!𝑒, v light knife play (𝑒!receiving+giving), handcuffing ghostface😊, oral/fingering, strap-on sex (r!receiving), extremely jealous/obsessive!𝑒, ellie gets off to eepy reader and they get off together on the couch yummyy... i think that's it?? ps ignore that ugly ass edited pic pls😭

.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞author's note⌝ ﹕ this isn't like the movies, it's a 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 story. proofread by @sapphichotmess!!

#.ᐟ ⌞taglist⌝ ﹕ @aouiaa @kaykeryyy @whoucallingalesbian @taylormarieee @co0kiemuncher @myathegoat @joordynn @iamhellagae @hearts444olivia @ion-news @broskideedle13 @ladyofcain @cheyisagirlkisser

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

˳·˖𖤐 During her childhood, Ellie had a stern and intimidating demeanor that unintentionally scared other kids away. They’d be too scared to approach her, let alone play or talk with her, which left her in solitude most of the time. She got used to playing by herself and spent her recess in the corner of the playground. During lunchtime, she would eat the dino nuggets that her dad had meticulously prepared for her while sitting alone at the lunch table (being picky about food, she only ever had dino nuggets and was firmly convinced that regular nuggets did not taste as good). She seemed to find solace in drawing and would spend hours sketching in her green notebook, lost in her world of imagination.

˳·˖𖤐 Maybe, just maybe, the kids’ fear toward Ellie wasn’t unmotivated. She loved to cause chaos and conflicts among the other kids. She would start small fights, encourage others to fight, push kids off swings, or even break their toys. Even more concerning was that she seemed to get a kick out of other people’s misery and would laugh at their distress and discomfort, which was why many feared and avoided being near her.

˳·˖𖤐 Joel would often find himself rushing to his daughter’s school, trying his best to convince the school officials that his sweet little girl could never do anything to hurt other kids. Despite being smart and quiet, Ellie would sometimes find herself in trouble for things she claimed she didn’t do. She always stood her ground, insisting that if she ever did start something, it was only because another child had done something to her first. And, of course, her father always believed her and would go to great lengths to defend his baby girl.

Once, Joel was called to the principal’s office. When he entered the room, he saw the principal sitting behind his desk, looking stern and serious. Joel's heart sank, he could sense something was off. “My daughter would n—” Joel tried to speak, but the principal cut him off without missing a beat. “The teacher saw her. She pushed Jason off the swing and kicked him,” the principal stated, his tone firm and authoritative. Joel's eyes immediately darted to his sweet little angel, who was crying and pouting, giving him doe eyes as she shook her head to dismiss all the accusations. “No, Dad, I didn’t, I swear. He hit me first,” she said, trying to defend herself. “Heard what she said? She didn’t do it.” Joel always fell for that little dotted face. He would still stand by his beliefs no matter what the teachers or other kids' parents said. His baby girl would never hurt anyone. He couldn’t imagine her doing anything wrong.

˳·˖𖤐 You were never really scared of her—the quiet, introverted girl. In fact, you were quite intrigued by her. She always seemed to be the odd one out, sitting in the corner of the classroom or standing far away across the playground, watching everything and everyone so intently. What really fascinated you about her was her attention to detail. She never missed a thing and could remember every single detail of everything, almost like she had a photographic memory or something. 

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was fascinated with you. Ever since you helped Ellie pick up the pencils she had accidentally dropped, she couldn’t help but notice your gentle and soft smile, and from that moment on, she found herself unable to take her eyes off you. She’d just sit across the room, sipping on her apple juice box as she studied you curiously. To her, you were a delicate and pretty little girl, reminding her of a flower. She had always thought other kids weren’t as bright as her and weren’t good enough to be her friends, which led her to isolate herself from others. She thought of herself as better than everyone her age, and it was also why she would beat them up, finding them too stupid to put up with. But you were different. There was something about you that stood out to her, something that her childish brain couldn’t quite put a finger on. It wasn’t just your kindness, although that certainly played a big part in it. There was something more that made her feel like she wanted to be your friend, your close friend.

˳·˖𖤐 Even as a little kid, Ellie had always been a strategic and calculated person.

One day, she saw you playing in the sandbox and felt the urge to approach you, but she needed an excuse to do so. So, she concocted a plan. She told another kid that you had said something mean about him, knowing that he would confront you about it—Jason was a little of a troublemaker from what she noticed, so she was certain it would work. In fact, when the little boy confronted you, and you denied it, he quickly became angry and pushed you, causing you to fall into the sand. The sand got all over your beautiful frilly clothes, making you feel embarrassed and upset, your bottom lip wobbling. Ellie saw this as her chance to approach you and comfort you. She walked over to you and pushed the other kid, causing him to storm off. She quickly helped you up and offered you a slight smile, “You can’t let other kids treat you like that.” You nodded in agreement, grateful for her help, and threw yourself in her arms, hugging her tightly. “Thank you so much,” you uttered. She nodded and squeezed you, rubbing your back. “Maybe we can watch each other’s back from now on,” she suggested with a shy smile, the one that always fooled her dad as well. You were beyond ecstatic at her offer. You had long admired her from afar, and the idea of being friends with her was something you had dreamed of for a long time, but your shy nature had always caused you to keep to yourself. Even to you, she seemed smarter compared to other kids. “Can you be my friend?” you asked with a toothless grin on your face, batting your lashes at her. “Yes, I would love to,” followed by “Can I show you my dinosaur collection?” From that day on, you and Ellie became close friends, and her strategic and protective nature was always there to help you when you needed it.

˳·˖𖤐 You and Ellie have been inseparable, going through all the ups and downs of school and puberty together. She has been a constant source of support, always by your side through your best and worst days. You have shared countless memories and experiences over the years, and she has always been a true friend in every sense of the word. She was always there to protect you and stood up for both of you in any situation. You did everything together—you laughed, cried, and confided in each other like you were the only two people in the world. You shared all your first-time experiences, like getting drunk for the first time, going to parties, and even sneaking out of your house at night just to see her or hang out. Her father quickly became like a second dad to you, someone you could look up to and trust. You have always felt like a part of their small family, spending time together, sharing meals, and celebrating holidays with them. Your friendship has only grown stronger over the years.

˳·˖𖤐 During middle school, Ellie’s behavior remained consistent. Even in the new environment, she continued to find ways to get herself in trouble. She had a habit of talking back to teachers, getting into physical fights with other students, and arguing with pretty much everyone, almost as if she couldn’t contain herself; causing trouble was second nature to her. It was evident that she found pleasure in disrupting the peace wherever she went, which often landed her in serious trouble. Not that she cared, of course.

“Miss Williams, get your shoes off the desk. You are not at home, and you cannot do as you please,” The middle-aged teacher, who appeared to be in her late fifties, scolded her with a stern voice, her eyes narrowing with disapproval as she spoke. Her wrinkled forehead was furrowed with a frown, and her thin lips pursed tightly together. The teacher’s glasses, once perched on the bridge of her nose earlier, now hung from a chain around her neck as she continued to chastise the auburnette.

With a mischievous smirk on her face, the copper-brown-haired girl replied, “You can bet your wrinkled ass I’ll do as I please,” causing the whole class to erupt in laughter.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger when Cassie, a girl from math class, called you stupid. You were her best friend, and she couldn't bear the thought of someone insulting you like that. She wouldn’t let anyone walk all over you. So, that same day, she approached Cassie after class with a fake calm demeanor and explained that her comments were hurtful and disrespectful. She initially tried to remain ‘polite’ to make you happy, but the situation quickly escalated to a physical fight. Unfortunately, this resulted in Cassie ending up in the nurses’ office with a broken bone. But she couldn’t help it. She had to look out for you, and Cassie fucking deserved it.

˳·˖𖤐 It was always just you and Ellie hanging out together. Other kids weren’t allowed to join you. Everyone in your school thought of you two as weirdos, but you didn’t care, both preferring each other’s company over anyone else’s.

˳·˖𖤐 You spent everyday together, either at her place or yours. Homework, video games, comics, and movie marathons filled your time, but the one thing that truly brought you together was your shared obsession with horror movies. You’d watch a new one each day, feeding off the adrenaline of jump scares and twisted plots. Ellie seemed to devour every film, but her favorites were always the slasher flicks—especially the Scream series. The thrill of being scared out of your mind became your thing. Soon, though, it wasn’t just the horror movies that captivated Ellie. She developed a deep fascination for true crime documentaries, and afternoons blurred into nights as the two of you sat in her room, binging tales of real-life terror, lost in your macabre little world together. You both would sit there, transfixed, eyes glued to the horror playing out on the screen, completely enthralled by the spine-tingling and mysterious events unfolding before you. The chilling stories on the screen drew you in, and your fascination with the morbid and the inexplicable would lead you to spend countless hours online reading creepypastas. 

˳·˖𖤐 You were each other’s first kiss.

One Friday night, you went to Cassie’s house for a small party—yes, the same Cassie that Ellie beat up and broke her arm. You guessed she had invited Ellie to get on her good side, considering their last fight. The poor girl was tired of fearing Ellie, but Ellie didn’t like her one bit and never would. Your best friend was reluctant at the idea of being surrounded by too many people, but you convinced her to go with you, saying it might’ve been fun to do something different for once. They kept teasing you, insinuating that you were more than just best friends. You were always around each other and touchy in ways that made them suspect that you were girlfriends. They noticed how you frequently held hands, hugged, and even kissed each other on the cheek. So, during a truth-or-dare game, they dared you to kiss your best friend. You looked over at Ellie, feeling shy and uncertain. You were waiting for her to say something to stop you from going along with the dare, but to your surprise, she didn’t. In fact, she had a small smile on her face, which made you feel more nervous for some reason. Feeling hesitant, you finally mustered up the courage to ask her, “Can I kiss you?” Your cheeks heated up as you spoke. The freckled girl rolled her eyes, trying to make you feel like you were being dramatic, “It’s just a game.” Finally, you leaned in and gave her a soft peck on the lips. Everyone in the room giggled and clapped their hands, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something had changed between you and Ellie, yet neither of you dared to acknowledge it.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie had always been very open about her attraction to girls. She never cared about what other classmates might have thought about her preferences. Even though they were not always accepting, they never dared to say anything negative to her face, fearing Ellie’s reaction to their comments. She openly rejected guys who showed interest in her, saying that she was not interested because she was a lesbian. Always commenting about pretty girls—and man, if that didn’t make you jealous. You’d often feel this intense jealousy inside you every time she talked to other girls or whenever other girls would approach her, even if she always rejected them, 99,9% of the time.

˳·˖𖤐 Why 99,9% and not 100%? Well, because another girl named Cat entered the picture. From the very start, it was clear that Cat was head over heels for Ellie, and how could you blame her? She’d blush every time Ellie glanced her way, always laughing obnoxiously at your best friend’s puns, even when they were terrible—and that was, like, all the time. She would also go out of her way to shower her with small gifts, all of which Ellie would accept with a sly grin that you found infuriating. She’d get her snacks and pass her cute little notes during classes, and the worst part was that your friend began to reciprocate Cat’s feelings, and the two of them grew even closer. You tried to accept their ‘friendship’ but found it increasingly difficult; watching them together became too much to bear, and you knew you had to take care of it. You never liked sharing, not even as a kid, so why start now with the most important person to you?

As the lesson dragged on, you grew more restless, your thoughts tangled in a knot of anxiety. You needed to have a little chat with Cat. Urgently. Unable to focus any longer, you raised your hand, asking the teacher if you could go to the toilet. When he gave you a nod in response, you hurried out of the classroom, your pulse quickening as you slipped through the quiet hallways. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a small Post-it note, your fingers trembling slightly as you scrawled a quick message:

“Meet me in the bathroom after third period. — Ellie :)  ”

You carefully folded the note and slid it into Cat's locker, hoping she would see it soon. The next few hours felt like an eternity. You kept checking the clock, counting down the minutes until the third period. Finally, the bell rang, and you made your way to the bathroom, hoping Cat would be there. As you entered the bathroom, you saw her standing there with a big smile. The same smile that faded in an instant as she saw you instead of the girl she liked. You greeted her with a mischievous grin and asked her if she was waiting for Ellie. “Yeah, she told me to come here after third period,” the raven-haired girl responded, looking puzzled. “Did she, or did I?” you giggled. Cat took a small step back, suddenly feeling creeped out by the way you were looking at her, almost as if you were planning to hurt her. You had never started fights in school or caused any sort of trouble, though Cat feared you. Maybe it was the endless rude comments you threw her way at any chance you got or the little things you did when Ellie wasn’t watching to make her feel threatened. “Is this some sick joke?” surprise flashed across her features before a more terrorized look replaced it. “Stop seeing her, don’t come near her, stop talking to her, don’t even look her way,” you demanded. Your tone was firm, almost possessive, as you stepped closer. She backed away with each step you took. “Wha-” Cat tried to speak, but you cut her off. “I catch you lookin’ at her again, I won’t be as nice.” you threatened. “I won’t—I’ll stop talking to her,” she stammered nervously, her voice trembling. A few sniffles escaped her before she ran off, mumbling her sorrys on her way out. “I hope you mean it.” She was already out of the bathroom, but you were sure she had heard you loud and clear. And you weren’t even gonna feel bad. She deserved it. How dare she come near the most important person in your life? What was she planning to do? Take her away from you? You sure as hell weren’t gonna let that happen.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was struggling to understand why Cat had suddenly started ignoring her like a deadly disease. It was almost perplexing that the brunette wouldn’t even look at her, and whenever Ellie tried to approach her to talk, Cat would leave the conversation abruptly, only briefly glancing over at her. It was particularly puzzling to the redhead as she could not recall any misunderstanding or disagreement between them that could have caused such a drastic change in Cat’s attitude towards her—for once, she was nice to someone who wasn’t you, and this was the result? She felt confused and soon enough began to harass the girl, making sure her life was a living hell at school. How dare Cat ignore her? She wasn’t even that smart or pretty. Ellie only ever liked the attention she'd get from her; she was there just to boost her ego, and now she was ignoring her?

˳·˖𖤐 As you both entered high school, you remained inseparable, sticking to the shadows for the first few years, trying to blend in and avoid unwanted attention. Neither of you joined clubs or sports teams, preferring to keep to yourselves and steer clear of socializing. But by junior year, the routine started to feel stifling, and restlessness set in. You both realized you wanted more—something bigger than just being on the sidelines. Your best friend took the leap first, joining the soccer team, eager to break out of the monotony and possibly make new friends. She thrived there, quickly falling in love with the game’s intensity and the adrenaline that came with it. She never lost that sense of superiority, though—deep down, she believed she was different, better than the people around her. She stood out, and she knew it. You, on the other hand, joined the cheerleaders team. Dancing and performing had always been a passion, and it seemed like a perfect way to get involved. But as you spent time with other girls, you couldn’t help but notice how wrapped up they were in things that felt trivial to you—obsessed with popularity, looks, and gossip. It was hard to feel like you fit in, knowing damn well you didn’t. While your best friend thrived on her sense of superiority, you were left feeling like an outsider, trapped in a group you didn’t belong in.

˳·˖𖤐 Ever since you joined the cheerleading team, you stood out from the crowd. Your undeniable beauty did not go unnoticed, and soon enough, boys began to show interest in you. Every week, a different guy would try to catch your attention, hoping to ask you out or make a move on you. But Ellie was fiercely protective of you, claiming that none of these guys were good enough for you, whether it was a potential friend or partner. She would always find a way to scare them away, making it clear that you weren’t interested, always there reminding you that you were way too amazing for all of them and that no one could ever understand you like she did, even if they tried. She did not want anyone she deemed unworthy of your time to come close to you, and you liked it that way. To you, that was your definition of love.

“—so he just fell in front of the whole class, he couldn’t even-” You were interrupted by the sound of your name being called from across the room. Your best friend was out sick, missing all the juicy details, but before you could finish the story and turn to see who it was, the auburn-haired girl beside you spun around first. Her brows knit together almost instantly, and you could see the flicker of jealousy in her eyes. Her expression darkened as she processed the moment, clearly thrown off by the sudden attention directed your way. A kid you knew from theater class was walking toward you with a nervous smile, carefully holding a flower, making sure not to prick himself on the sharp thorns of the beautiful red rose. “Hey, I just wanted to ask you if-” He didn’t even need to finish his sentence—she was already prepared to go off on him as if he’d just insulted her entire family. In reality, he hadn’t even noticed a fuming Ellie standing right beside you. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, eyes locked on him with an intensity that made you sure if looks could kill, he’d already be dead. You opened your mouth to say something, but Ellie quickly raised her hand in front of you, silencing you instantly. She was going to handle this, just like always. “What makes you think she would ever go out with a loser like you?” Ellie hurled venomous words his way, leaving the poor guy stuttering and stumbling over his response. His face flushed bright red as if all the blood had rushed to his cheeks. He stood there, frozen in shock, his mouth hanging open like a fish gasping for air. His eyes darted nervously between you and the girl at your side, clearly unsure what to do next. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to express himself, his expression desperate as if he was silently begging for a reaction from you, anything. But before he could even get a syllable out, Ellie cut him off again, shutting him down before he could speak. “Heard what I said? She is not interested,” she repeated, but this time, her voice was tinged with impatience. “I’m sorry, I just—take this.” He handed you the flower, looking utterly defeated. As soon as it was in your hands, he turned around and walked away hastily, like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs. She watched the guy walk away, her leaf-hued eyes fixed on him, unwilling to let go of the sight. Her face was slightly scrunched up in annoyance, her mind clearly racing with thoughts as she seemed lost in her world. After a while, she finally tore her gaze away from him and glanced at you briefly as if snapping back to reality. She let out a small ‘tssssk’ under her breath, trying to collect herself and shake off the jealousy lingering in the pit of her stomach. “Jesus, El. You’re evil,” You let out a small giggle and brought your hand to your mouth to cover it up. “Might have to kill half the school just for you,” She suddenly joked with a grin. She snatched the rose out of your hand and threw it on the floor forcefully. Red petals scattered on the ground as you both continued walking. Ellie made sure to stomp on the flower. She always had a very dark humor, which sometimes left you wondering if she meant any of what she said. She always spoke in such a serious tone, but maybe it was just her sarcasm being that way. Her words were often laced with a hidden meaning, and she had a way of making you question your interpretations, but you laughed at her joke anyway.

˳·˖𖤐 So, were you surprised when a few students started going missing? 

˳·˖𖤐 The leader of the cheerleaders that always gave you a hard time? Gone.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was your biggest fan, always showing up to watch your cheerleading practices.  Manspreading on the benches, her gaze never left you, not daring to miss a single move. The sight of you, all sweaty with wisps of hair escaping your ponytail, only made you look cuter in her eyes. She loved seeing you in that little cheerleader uniform. Whenever you smiled and glanced at her, her heart would thunder in her chest. It was as if her whole world revolved around those fleeting glances and spontaneous smiles you’d throw her way. You were awfully adorable.

What Ellie found far less adorable was how the head cheerleader constantly picked on you, always putting you down. What frustrated her even more was that you just let it happen. In her mind, Amanda wasn’t better than you—no one could even come close to you. To Ellie, you were perfect, and she wished you could see it too. When she saw you walking toward her, she quickly set aside the leather-bound journal she had been scribbling in, placing it on the empty spot next to her as she greeted you with a warm smile.

“You’re doing great, beautiful,” She turned to grab her backpack, which had been thrown carelessly on the empty benches behind her. Her tattooed arm reached inside the already unzipped, worn-out bag. “Yeah, you say that, like, every single time.” You sat on the bench next to her, sweat beading on your forehead as you let out a slight huff, feeling winded after your practice. “‘s true though.” She pulled out a small towel and handed it to you with a gentle smile. She was always considerate, constantly looking out for you and ensuring you were taken care of. She expressed her love for you through these little gestures, like bringing things she thought you might need in her green backpack. Her obsession with you was apparent in how she hovered over you, but you couldn't deny that it was comforting to have someone care for you so deeply. That was love—real love—and you had never experienced that from anyone else.

“Goood, you’re so perfect,” you accepted the towel from her outstretched hand and began to pat your forehead, feeling some relief from the heat. But a little towel wasn’t the only thing she brought for you—she also handed you a refreshing bottle of water to quench your thirst and a cherry-flavored lollipop as a little treat. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of that beloved childhood candy in your hand. A soft smile spread across her lips when your words reached her ears, and she looked away, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. Her shoulders lifted ever so slightly in a subtle shrug, “Oh, I know” her elbows propped up on her knees as she leaned forward. She was deep in thought, and her hands were intertwined. You took a few sips of your water and unwrapped a lollipop, both of you fell silent, completely focused on watching Amanda, who was the target of Ellie's intense gaze, she was studying her. “She’s a bitch” the freckled girl next to you muttered under her breath. You hummed in agreement, savoring the sugary goodness. “Why do you even let her speak to you that way?” she shook her head in disapproval, you could feel her gaze on you even if you weren't looking at her. “What do you want me to do? She’s the leader, El. She’ll throw me out of the team if I confront her.” You reached up to your mouth and pulled the lollipop out with a loud smack noise, feeling a sense of defeat wash over you. Ellie expressed her disagreement with a small scoff that barely registered on her plump lips, almost imperceptible. She picked up her journal once again and resumed whatever she was doing, and the silence between the two of you fell once again, punctuated only by the sound of the pencil scratching across the page. When you looked down at her journal, you couldn’t help but notice a drawing she was making of Amanda. The drawing portrayed Amanda in a rather disturbing manner, physically harmed with a knife in her chest. The details of the drawing were quite graphic, and you could tell she had put a lot of effort and passion into it. “Oh, well...that's detailed,” you commented, still sucking on your lollipop, savoring the sweet taste in your mouth. You noticed a small curl of her lips as if she felt proud of her drawing skills. “But that’d be too messy,” you added, her head shot up to look at you. “Yeah? How would you do it then?” she asked, almost challenging you to come up with a better idea for the hypothetical scenario. “The bitch’s allergic to almonds,” Your eyes were fixed on Amanda, who was laughing with her friend. Ellie raised her brows at you, an amused smile appearing on her lips. “That’s it? A good ol’ accidental allergy reaction? Where’s the fun in that?” you shrugged at her words. “No blood, no traces, it’d be harder to get caught,” you explained, proving your point. It was logical and more calculative than her hypothesis. “True but stabbing her to death seems funnier, I dunno.” She inhaled deeply, leaning back into her bench, her back pressed on the benches behind her. “Hearing them beg for mercy, scream in pain, and the look in their eyes…” She went on, entirely absorbed in her twisted narration. As she spoke, the details grew darker and more grotesque with each word. You watched her, bewildered, struggling to tell if this was still just a “what if” game. When Ellie finally realized you hadn’t responded, she looked over at you—the familiar warmth in her eyes had drained away, leaving something sharper, emptier, a chill that made you feel as though you were staring into someone else entirely.

“And where would you hide the body?” you asked.

She smiled sadistically, almost as if she already had an answer ready for that question. “I know the perfect place for that kind of thing.” she put down her journal, her emeralds back on you as she told you about the place she had in mind. “No one would ever look there,” You agreed, giving her a nod, the cherry taste of the candy lingering as you let the sweetness melt off your tongue, an amused grin playing at the corners of your mouth. The plan was actually well-thought-out—impressively so.

“I told you,” she said softly, her gaze darted between your lips and the lollipop. “Oh? Want some?” you teased, holding the lollipop just a breath away from her. Slowly, you edged the glistening, saliva-coated candy toward her, and she parted her lips, wrapping them around it, savoring the artificial cherry taste with a quiet hum of satisfaction. Her fingers replaced yours on the stick, her fingertips brushing lightly over yours, lingering just a little too long. She held your gaze, her eyes softened, almost entranced, though the depth of that look was something you couldn’t quite place. In reality, she was gazing at you enamored, her pupils wide open, but you were completely oblivious to her feelings and failed to pick up on her infatuation. Shortly after that day, Amanda was gone. Disappeared into thin air, nowhere to be found. You knew it wasn’t adding up, especially when you asked Ellie about it. She’d be so nonchalant, like she had nothing to do with her it. But you knew she was lying. Did you care about that stupid cunt being gone? Absolutely not. You soon became the leader of the cheerleaders, and everyone looked up to you.

˳·˖𖤐 The girl who was grinding on you at Daniel’s party? Found dead the morning after.

˳·˖𖤐 The first few months of college had set in, and you were already drowning in a sea of assignments and deadlines, feeling overwhelmed and stressed out. To stay close to you, Ellie took the bold step of enrolling in the same college as you. She even went as far as to choose the same major─Psychology─just to be in the same classes as you, ensuring that you both had the same schedule, did the same assignments, and even hung out with the same people. 

˳·˖𖤐 It was ironic, really, how someone as anti-social and apathetic as her would pursue a field that involved studying human behavior and emotions. But she did it anyway because the mere thought of being away from you for even a second was unbearable to her. She didn’t want anyone else to get closer to you or share the dorm with you, so she followed you and moved in with you because no one could take care of you better than her. You both decided to get an apartment together to share the bills and responsibilities of living independently. Your parents were more than willing to support you financially, making sure that you had everything you needed for college and the apartment. You were attached by the hip, and wherever you went, she was there with you, and whenever she wasn't, you became nervous and anxious, wondering what she was doing and if everything was okay. It was as if you had become too dependent on her, and the thought of being alone scared you. But the dependency was mutual; she needed you just as much as you needed her.

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie was not a fan of parties and preferred staying home, indulging in horror movies while getting high with you. However, when you told her about Daniel’s Halloween party, she knew she had to accompany you to ensure your safety and protect you from any potential creeps. You had been eagerly waiting for Halloween, your favorite holiday, and Ellie didn't want you to miss the opportunity to dress up and have a good time. Despite her initial reluctance, she was somewhat excited, not for the party itself but because she finally had a reason to wear the ghostface costume that had been sitting in her closet, untouched and unused. 

Ellie was already ready, her costume simple but somehow annoyingly perfect—but that was the price that came with being effortlessly beautiful—and her Ghostface mask thrown lazily on her shoulder. She stood at the bathroom entrance, arms crossed, eyes unwavering as they followed you. You slipped into the tight black dress, pulling it into place with a little struggle as it hugged every curve. You, on the other side, loved taking care of every little detail of your makeup and costume, ensuring your appearance was always on point. “I hate these things,” she muttered under her breath, brow furrowed, though her gaze was anything but annoyed as it lingered on your body. With her hip pressed against the doorframe, she watched as you adjusted the neckline, her head tilted to the side, eyes scrutinizing each inch of skin exposed. “Why’d you have to pick something so revealing?” she asked, voice low, almost a grumble. You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s Halloween, Ellie,” you huffed out, “I can wear whatever I want. Don't be such a buzz kill.” “I meant for Halloween parties. Last year, you were that damn sexy nurse. This year, it’s a tight dress. What’s next? A slutty bunny?” the freckled girl quipped, her lips curling up into a wry smile as she raised an eyebrow at you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She let out a light chuckle, the sound echoing softly in the small bathroom. “And you’re here complaining,” you retorted with a mischievous grin as you reached for your high heels and effortlessly slid your feet into them. You took a few confident steps towards her, giving her a complete view of your stylish outfit. Her eyes roamed up and down your body. Your dress hugged every curve, revealing just enough skin to accentuate her drool. She licked her lips, imagining what she could do with you in that skimpy outfit, but she had to keep her hands to herself, unfortunately.  “You look fucking amazing.” 

You gave her a soft smile, turning toward the mirror and reaching for your makeup bag on the countertop. “Just need to fix my makeup, and we’re all set,” you informed her, pulling out your favorite berry pink gloss and a tube of mascara, both essentials for tonight. Ellie let out a low chuckle from the doorway, fingers tapping lazily on the frame. “You’re gonna make me want to commit murder tonight,” she joked, eyes flicking over you as you leaned in closer to the mirror. Without looking away from your reflection, you rolled your eyes, your long lashes nearly brushing against your brows. “Oh, shut up. You’ll survive,” you replied, carefully gliding the gloss over your lips. She sighed, tipping her head back against the doorframe. “Honestly, I don’t know why we’re even going. It’s gonna be full of drunk assholes, all crowding around like moths.” “C’mon, El, it’s gonna be fun,” you insisted, catching her eye in the mirror. She rolled her eyes, exhaling dramatically. “Oh, yeah, can’t wait to watch people hitting on you,” she drawled, her voice heavy with sarcasm. You snorted, giving her a smirk as you grabbed your mascara. “Well, thank God I’ll have you by my side, scaring them all away.” “Damn right,” she shot back, and you both chuckled. Finishing up, you turned on your heels to face her, your eyes locking with hers. The two of you were only inches apart now, close enough to share each unspoken word in the air between you. “So, what do you think? How do I look?” you questioned, seeking her approval, though you knew the answer already. Ellie’s gaze drifted over you, her lips twitching into a scoff. “You already know you look hot,” she murmured, unable to hide a small smirk. She seemed momentarily lost as she looked at you, her green eyes flitting from your lips to your eyes, drawn in despite herself. You felt a pulse of satisfaction at her reaction, the way her attention lingered on you. “Ellie…” you murmured, leaning a bit closer, your voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. She licked her lips almost instinctively, her gaze dropping to your glossy ones, and the air between you grew thick, the energy snapping with tension. “...Yeah?” she breathed, her voice barely audible. Her breath hitched as you inched closer before coming to a halt. You smirked, tipping your head to the side. “Can I be your helpless victim?” you teased, catching her off guard with the unexpected line. Ellie’s face contorted into one of confused disbelief, and before you could hold it back, laughter escaped you at her expression. In response, she gave your shoulder a playful shove, rolling her eyes as she fought a smile. “Fuck you,” she groaned, a hint of laughter in her voice, and she ducked out of the bathroom, completely flustered, leaving you grinning after her.

When you arrived at the party, your best friend was glued to your side. She didn’t want you to be alone for even a moment, telling you that she’d stay sober to keep an eye on you in case you decided to drink. However, despite her best efforts, she lost track of you for just a few minutes. When she finally found you, she swore she felt her whole organs sink. You were dancing with a girl. Everything seemed to slow down, and jealousy and pure rage quickly built up inside her as she registered that girl’s hands guiding your hips as she ground on your ass and her lips devoured your neck. When your gaze met hers, you couldn’t help but notice the striking green color of her eyes had turned into an intense, almost ominous shade. Her jaw was tightly clenched, and you could feel a sense of discomfort creeping up on you. It was like you had crossed an invisible line and were now doing something you shouldn’t do. Almost instinctively, you pushed the girl off of you, and before you could give the drunken girl an explanation, Ellie was already walking toward you.

“We’re going back home,” She spoke with a harsh, demanding tone. She grabbed your wrist tightly and forcefully pulled you away from the girl you were dancing with. You didn't even have a chance to say goodbye or explain the situation as she dragged you away.

“Why are you acting like this? Can’t I make friends?” Your words were slightly slurred, the tipsiness settling in as you tried to pull your wrist from her grip, but Ellie’s hold was firm. You didn’t want to leave the party yet; the night had just started and had been so much fun, and her urgency to get you out only made disappointment grow. The music and chatter gradually faded as she dragged you both toward the exit.

“Didn’t look like a friend to me,” she muttered, voice sharp with an edge that cut through your drunk haze. “Looked more like she wanted to fuck you right there in front of everyone—in front of me.” She cast a glance back at the party, the girl long gone already. “Besides,” she added, “—you have me. I don’t see why you need her.” There was an ache in her tone as if she felt betrayed by your actions, a hidden desperation she was trying to keep under wraps. Couldn’t you see? She was right there, ready to be everything you needed, the one person who knew you better than anyone else. You narrowed your eyes, pushing her, testing her. “So what if she did want to fuck me? What are you, my girlfriend?” The words came out in a perfectly thought-out taunt to poke the emotions she preferred to keep hidden under the surface. You couldn’t deny that you’d thought about it too—what it would be like to actually be with her. Her green eyes darkened, shifting from their usual warmth to something intense and possessive, jealousy sparking in the depths. It was rare for you both to argue, but this time it felt like there was something deeper brewing beneath the surface, something that had been sitting there gathering dust, waiting for the right moment to bubble out like scorching lava. There was a palpable tension in the air, more-than-friendly feelings in your eyes. Even a fool would’ve been able to see the unspoken feelings and desires that neither of you could express aloud. Perhaps it was the fear of rejection or the uncertainty of how the other person felt kept you both from taking that step. “I just don’t want you getting hurt or taken advantage of.” She lied, her words sharp, unyielding, and tone laced with frustration and anger. That wasn’t a complete lie, but it was still not the whole truth. She took a slow, deep breath to calm herself down. Gradually, her tense body relaxed, and her previously sharp tone softened. “You’re all I have.” As she spoke again, her eyes, which had been stern, took on a gentler expression, and you could sense vulnerability in her voice, suddenly yearning for ‘reassurance’. “I’m sorry for being rough. It’s just… seeing anyone else with you just… fuck, I don’t know why it pisses me off so much.”  Ellie wanted you to believe she was reacting out of fear because she didn’t want to lose you. But her motives were more complex than that. While it was true that she was afraid of losing you, her actions were purely driven by a sense of selfishness. She strongly believed that you were meant to be together and that it was only a matter of time until you realized she was the one for you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “No one could ever replace you, and I hope you know that.” With a gentle tug of her costume, you pulled her close. Your arms wrapped tightly around her, and you could feel the weight of her body press against yours as she leaned into you. As you held her, you could feel the tension slowly start to melt away, replaced by a familiar sense of safety that usually came with being in her arms. “No, you’re right. I’m not your girlfriend, you can do whatever you want—fuck whoever you want.” Her voice quivered with hesitation, and her heart felt like it was weighed down by a heavy burden. She almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anything, the words tasting sour on her tongue. She knew it wasn’t normal to be so possessive of your best friend, no one acted this way toward their friends. So what was she supposed to do? Lock you up in a glass cage and never let you go? Although the idea was tempting she knew she had to set you free─free enough to find someone at least, even if it felt extremely wrong. What were the chances it would last?

˳·˖𖤐 Despite her promise to let you go, to let you be with whoever you wanted, the girl you’d danced with that night was found dead the following day, her body left in a state so brutal it was as if every ounce of someone’s anger had been carved into her. The pieces didn’t quite fit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to confront it—not yet. Maybe it was all just a coincidence, a horrible coincidence.

˳·˖𖤐 And yet, every time the news flashed across the screen or a passing conversation brought it up, her casual comments made your blood run cold.

“Oh, what a shame,” she’d murmur, not a hint of genuine sympathy in her tone.  “Guess this is what happens when you hoe around,” she’d remark, her voice steady, an almost imperceptible smirk ghosting her lips. “Hm… sucks. ‘s not even her best picture,” she’d add, a detached sort of amusement glinting in her eyes.

˳·˖𖤐 When you tried to confront her and ask questions that had been gnawing at your mind, her responses were so calm—too calm, too controlled. Her voice was smooth as she answered, almost as if rehearsed as she tried to make you feel ridiculous for even asking.

“I was with you last night. What are you implying?” she’d say, her tone just soft enough to make you question yourself. “You sound crazy right now,” she’d whisper, eyebrows raised in concern. “Maybe all these murders going on are messing with your head.”

With every word, she seemed to pull you deeper into self-doubt, her gaze softening, her voice laced with an almost painful sweetness. “Are you listening to yourself right now? I love you, but… you’re scaring me. You’re being paranoid.”

˳·˖𖤐 Her words lingered, a shadow in your mind until you couldn’t tell if it was your sanity or hers that was starting to slip.

˳·˖𖤐 The third person to disappear into thin air was your boyfriend.

˳·˖𖤐 Shortly after that heated argument with your best friend, you got into your first relationship. She gave you a little more freedom to talk to people, to socialize, but her jealousy flared whenever she saw you with him—or anyone else, for that matter.

God, why him? she’d ask herself, the question gnawing at her each time she saw the two of you together. He wasn’t exceptionally bright, his style was awful, and, to her, he wasn’t even remotely attractive. Whenever he was around, she’d mock him or throw out casual, biting jokes. She always seemed to be the only one laughing. Strangely enough, her snide remarks never fazed him—he never seemed intimidated by her like other guys who quickly fell away, discouraged or unnerved after a few seconds of her scrutiny. But not him. He stuck around, seemingly immune to her attempts to chase him off. So she took care of him. You were left with nothing but a single message, his name lighting up your screen in a sudden, unexpected end. He said he had to break things off because he was moving out of town, needing a “clean break,” a “fresh start.” The words felt hollow, calculated, and as you read through the message, your emotions twisted—hurt, anger, betrayal, all swirling within you. It was your first relationship, and he had chosen to end it over a text message without any explanation or warning. You felt like you meant nothing to him, and the fact that he disappeared from your life without as much as a goodbye added insult to injury. You were upset, not because you were particularly in love with him, but because you hated the feeling of being rejected. You had always been in control, the one rejecting people, so it was a blow to your ego to be on the receiving end of a breakup. 

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie, of course, had been there for you, providing support and care during this difficult time. She had to be here, because what kind of friend would she be if she wasn't there for you for something she had caused?

She squeezed you tighter, those strong, toned arms wrapping around you with an unbreakable and relentless grip. Her breath was hot on your neck as she murmured against your ear, lips grazing your skin with a smug smirk. “I told you this would happen,” she’d mutter, words slipping out with that intoxicating blend of annoyance and affection. She’d let her slender, cold fingers trace your spine in a way that left a shiver behind, and her hand would possessively rest on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer. “No one—no one will ever love you like I do. No one knows you like this. He could never do what I can.” “You should’ve known better, angel.” There was a dark satisfaction in her voice, almost sounding like she was taunting you, leaning in just close enough for you to feel the heat of every word against your flesh. “Told you he wasn’t the one for you, baby girl.” 

˳·˖𖤐 Not only did Ellie ensure that your boyfriend would never come anywhere near you, but now she seemed to be spending more time than ever clinging close to you, cuddling with you, and sharing the bed with you—all under the guise of offering you comfort. 

˳·˖𖤐 Your friendship had always been intense and boundaryless, it had never been anything but healthy. And it had always been increasingly clear to anyone looking in from the outside that your relationship was more than platonic. Ellie had always been obsessed with you, and her love for you had bordered on devotion. But while others could see this, you remained oblivious to her true feelings, always wondering if she liked you back.

˳·˖𖤐 And that’s when things started to change. Maybe it was the fact that you now lived together and got to spend every second with each other, or maybe it was the fact that your stupid boyfriend was out of the picture─you weren’t sure, but you didn’t mind, and neither did she. Slowly, it was back to just you and her again. Your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, and there were no other distractions. It was just the two of you like it always used to be.

You were leaning back on the couch, a joint held between your lips, your eyes heavy and red as you focused on the big TV in front of you. It was Friday night, a time when everyone else would usually go out, but for you, it only meant one thing: movie night with Ellie. The living room was dark, except for the light cast from the TV, making your faces glow in the darkness. You let out a throaty chuckle, taking another hit before sinking deeper into the couch and passing the joint back to her. You were rambling about random stuff as the movie went on, just filling in the background noise at first. Neither of you was really focused on the movie, too high to pay attention to what was happening on the screen. Your mind was wandering to other places, and it was easy to lose track of the scenes as they unfolded.  But then, a steamy scene suddenly caught both of your attention. You could feel the heat rising from the joint and maybe something else; the smoke filling your lungs and a fuzzy feeling spread throughout your body, filling you with a sense of relaxation and mellow contentment. But there was still a tiny fluttering sensation in your stomach, even though you knew it shouldn't be there. It was a strange feeling, like a soft and unexpected rush of excitement, and it made you feel both giddy and nervous all at once. As you watched the steamy scene playing out in front of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of Ellie licking her chapped and dry lips, her green, dilated eyes fixed like a laser on the screen. Her breathing was slightly faster, and you could feel her body tense up as she watched the scene. She didn’t take her eyes off the screen for a second, as if her life depended on watching it. “Y’know, you were my gay awakening,” she spoke suddenly, her husky voice breaking the silence and snapping you to attention. She stared at you, her eyes lingering on every part of your body before settling back on your face. It was a bold confession, coming out of nowhere, and suddenly, you felt your heart beating faster. A dry chuckle slipped out of you, catching in your throat. Even though you were high and a little out of control, her admission had you feeling speechless. “Is that so?” You ran your tongue across your bottom lip, trying to wet it as your throat suddenly felt parched and your pulse thrummed in your ears, hard and loud. “Hmmm-mmmh,” she hummed lazily in response, sounding almost like a low purr in your ear. Her hand rested on your bare thigh, squeezing gently, her touch delicate but firm. Heat pooled in your stomach almost instantly. “Always thinking of you when I touch myself.” “Show me.” You challenged her with a sultry tone.   Ellie scoffed, her scarred auburn brows lifting in disbelief. Had she heard you right? She swore she was hallucinating. “What?” “You heard me. Touch yourself,” you commanded, your voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. The corners of your lips lifted into a smirk, the confidence in your gaze obvious.

“And you’re just gonna sit there and stare like a creep?” She shook her head slowly, an amused smile on her face as if she wasn’t sure whether to take you seriously. But the soft chuckle and the way her eyes stayed locked on yours hinted that she was not entirely opposed to the idea. “Maybe, maybe not.” You shifted on the couch, turning fully to face her, now closer than ever. Practically in her space, watching her, you could almost feel her heart about to explode. Those little pajama shorts you had on had her captivated. Her eyes kept slipping down, caught on how tightly they hugged your curves, tracing every inch of your legs and hips. She tried to keep her gaze on your face, but it was impossible to stop glancing lower.  “If you do it, I’ll do it too,” you added, your voice dripping with temptation as her silence stretched out. And with that, something in her snapped, a fuse blowing in her mind until the only thing left was pure, raw need. No hesitation, no questions—just her fingers reaching into her waistband, spurred on by that hungry look in your eyes. You both sat there, legs spread, your hands slipping inside your panties, each of you putting on a show for the other.   Ellie’s breath hitched, and her fingers moved with fervor, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by how her parted lips let out shallow breaths, quiet gasps escaping as her hand worked. She moved with purpose, fingers gliding through her wetness, quickening her pace to get you to keep up.  “Do what I do,” she groaned, her voice low and rough. You obliged, your fingers following her frantic rhythm.  “Fuck, Ellie,” you moaned, biting back the whimper that her every move pulled out of you. 

She didn’t miss a thing, loving how you trembled and squirmed under her gaze, your body aching, practically begging. Her wildest fantasies were unfolding right in front of her, and she was greedy, wanting every sound, every gasp, every moan.   “You like that, yeah?” she rasped, her voice so rough it made your walls clench. The empty ache inside you was unbearable, your fingers slippery and soaked as you followed her every twist and stroke. You nodded, desperate, moans spilling out without restraint, each one making her move even faster. The sight of her, her touch, her ragged breaths was dizzying. She wanted to own every second, to make you crave her as much as she craved you. Your needy voice rang out, soft and breathy, “Mmmhh… need more, El.” You sounded so desperate, so whiny, it made her heart race. You were just so fucking pretty, and she couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to have her fingers inside you, feeling every desperate pulse, every needy clench around her as you milked her fingers deliciously. Before she could even process the thought, you slid your other hand down, sinking two fingers past your folds with a soft sigh, filling yourself as deep as you could.  The sight made her breath hitch, a low moan slipping out as she watched, knowing that this image would be carved into her brain forever. She could already feel herself getting off to the thought of this moment, over and over again. Your fingers moved in sync, one hand teasing and torturing your clit while the other pumped inside, stroking that perfect spot that made your thighs tense and shiver. Ellie watched, her brows knitted, barely able to tear her eyes away from your sadly still-covered cunt. “God,” she gasped, her chest heaving as she took in every pretty little expression, every sound slipping from your lips as you finger-fucked yourself. She was beyond turned on, completely mesmerized by how good you looked, and couldn’t hold back any longer. With her hand still buried in her boy shorts, she flicked her clit faster, fingers rubbing in desperate, frantic messy circles as she got swept up in the sight of you. “So fuckin’ needy,” she taunted, her voice low and hoarse.

“Gonna...g’na cum,” you whined, eyes squeezed shut, breaths coming out in short, shaky bursts. In a move that sent a shiver down your spine, Ellie reached out and gently tugged your hand away from your shorts, intertwining her fingers with yours.  “Me too—wanna cum with you, need you close,” she gasped, her words breaking into soft moans as her own high built. She squeezed your hand tight, needing the contact as her hips jerked up, chasing her release. Your other hand kept moving, your fingers hitting that perfect, spongy spot again and again until— “I’m coming!” you cried out, your moans reaching a pitch that filled the room, echoing through the walls, your fingers slamming into yourself as you came, waves of pleasure crashing over you. 

“Ooooh fuck!” Ellie groaned, her hips bucking as she rubbed herself faster, her hand squeezing yours hard as she climaxed, her voice hoarse and breathless. 

You sat there, chests heaving, bodies still trembling in the aftermath, catching your breaths in silence as the euphoria slowly faded. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, gradually, reality seeped back in as you both glanced at each other, feeling completely blissful. Her lips pulled into a soft smile, cheeks flushed as her thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of your hand.

Feeling a rush of warmth, you leaned back, wiping your fingers on the soft fabric of your pajama shorts, a quiet contentment settling over you. Ellie tugged gently at your tank top, silently inviting you to come closer. You obliged, sinking into her embrace as she wrapped her arms around you. She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering in her dazed, dreamy voice about how perfect the moment had been, dropping little words of affection she’d usually never say out loud. With the weed still buzzing in her system, it all slipped out way too easily.

You drifted off in her arms, her warmth and steady breaths lulling you to sleep as the TV murmured softly in the background.

˳·˖𖤐 It was as though her infatuation with you intensified after that night, if that was even possible. She couldn’t get you out of her mind, and her focus on every little detail of your appearance became more and more pronounced. You were all she could draw, your lips, your nose, your brows, your eyes. She was convinced that she was the only one who truly appreciated your beauty. She believed that everyone else was too superficial to appreciate you for who you really were. To her, no one else deserved you─not like she did. You were the center of her world, and she couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were like a drug to her, and she craved you more than anything else, her mind was consumed with thoughts of you.

˳·˖𖤐 There was this sick habit of hers, one that she’d never admit out loud but couldn’t shake. Every night, she watched you as you slept, eyes glued to how your oversized shirt barely hung onto your curves. It was like she was waiting—no, hoping—for that shirt to ride up just a little bit more, enough to give her a full view of those soft legs and the tiny slip of fabric that barely covered you. 

You always seemed so relaxed, so at ease around her, never thinking twice about what you wore, especially when you two shared a bed. You’d just crawl under the covers, no pants, no bra, just that soft, baggy shirt. And every time, it drove her wild. Part of her wondered if you knew exactly what you were doing, the way you’d stretch and twist, giving her those little glimpses that made her pulse race—and to answer her silent dilemma, yes, you were doing it on purpose.  She couldn’t look away. Her hand would slip under her waistband, touching herself as her eyes roamed over you, desperate for more than just a view. She couldn’t resist ever since she admitted she’d been touching herself to the thought of you for as long as she could remember.  Even you could feel the tension every time her eyes lingered on your body or lips. Every time she shifted closer, her fingers grazing your thigh just a little too long just to pull away again, chickening out. All you wanted was for her to close that painful gap, to stop playing around and just touch you the way you knew she wanted to. Every night was a silent invitation, a wordless game where every move you made was another way to get her attention, pushing her until she couldn’t stand it any longer. Ellie licked her lips, her eyes glued to the sight beside her. Watching you sleep like this always turned her on─it was the combination of ‘innocence’, vulnerability, and sheer beauty that did it. The slight roll of your shirt had exposed just enough skin to make her heart race, her mind filled with naughty thoughts. You were never aware of how much she wanted to feel you and touch you inappropriately, but she knew it might ruin your friendship, and she couldn’t risk it.  Feeling her arousal increasing with every passing second, she slipped her hand under the covers. She knew it was wrong; she shouldn't be doing this while you were asleep next to her, sleeping peacefully as she came all over her fingers at the sight of your half-exposed body─but that didn’t stop her from doing it anyway. The temptation was too strong, and it was impossible to resist you. “Fuck... You’re killing me…” she thought to herself, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. It was late at night, and she couldn't resist anymore.

Without hesitation, she slid her hand into her shorts and started playing with herself. Her green, concentrated eyes never left your body, studying every curve and dip hungrily. Calloused fingers brushed against her sensitive nub gently, her hips slightly jerking away from her hand. She was so sensitive; you had her pussy throbbing like crazy, and the worst part was that you didn’t even do shit. It was her fault, her perverted and filthy mind's fault. But good lord, if she would sell all her organs to touch you. “The fuck are you doin’ to me…” she murmured under her breath as she played with her wetness, feeling how messy you made her. When her fingers returned to her clit, circling it gently, her breath hitched. She knew she had to be quiet; you were occasionally a light sleeper, and she couldn't risk getting caught. She parted her legs further apart as she kept teasing her clit slowly. “God…” She whispered, her breath coming out in short, shallow gasps, causing her voice to be soft and sultry as she rubbed herself with increasing tempo. There was no hesitation or inhibition, just raw, unadulterated desire dripping from every fiber of her being. So fucking nasty. She wondered what your reaction would be if you woke up and caught her in the act, but, yet again, there was something exhilarating about the risk, about the idea of you seeing her in the middle of her filthy act. Her face flushed as she imagined this, her mind filled with naughty scenarios as she rubbed herself harder and faster.  “Mmph... so beautiful…” Her eyes never left your body, even while touching herself. For some reason, it felt so good knowing you were just inches away, unaware of what she was doing. She couldn't help but fantasize about you pleasing her—she needed your fingers, you, and she also fantasized about reciprocating the favor.  “Can't wait to taste you... touch you…” She mumbled, lost in her fantasies. Her body trembled slightly from anticipation, she was close. “Mmm... fuck... gonna cum” Her voice was strained, increasing the pressure on her throbbing clit. It was becoming challenging to stay quiet, and she just hoped you wouldn't wake up to this.

When she did come, she pulled her damp and sticky hand out of her boxers, sucking her fingers clean before turning her head slightly to look at you, admire you. You laid there sleeping like an angel, your hair cascading down your face. She watched you with mixed emotions. 

Ellie’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she breathed, and her forehead was damp with sweat, her red-brown hair sticking to her freckled lush skin. Despite the guilt she knew she should be feeling, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She promised herself she wouldn’t do it again, but deep down, she knew it was merely the first of many more. 

˳·˖𖤐 The more she did it, the more confident and bold she became, convinced that you’d never catch her.

˳·˖𖤐 One night, you had a bit too much soda before falling asleep. As the night wore on, you began to slowly wake up, feeling the urge to go to the bathroom.

She was so caught up in the moment that she didn’t notice the slight shift beside her. Your eyes fluttered open just wide enough to catch a glimpse of her hand moving under the covers. Her pale face was flushed, a blush covered her cheeks and her cute nose, her skin coated with a light sheen of sweat. She was biting down on her bottom lip, her eyes tightly shut, trying to keep herself quiet, while her tattooed arm was stuffed deep inside her boxers. Her toned abs tensed up subtly as her perky tits peeked through her black t-shirt, jiggling with every tiny movement she made. Fuck, what a sight. You thought you were dreaming. Hell, you were sure of it. Why would she even do that next to you? You knew you should’ve done or said something, but the sight of your best friend pleasuring herself right beside you only made your pussy throb madly, and the way she dirty-talked to herself to make herself cum. God.

You squeezed your thighs together, pretending to be asleep. Her soft moans made you feel indescribable things, and you felt yourself getting increasingly wet; it felt like torture to lay there and pretend to be asleep while she pleasured herself like that, but at the same time, it was addictive.  So, instead of confronting her, you decided to play along. Wearing slutty thongs to bed became your new routine, and of course, it didn’t take Ellie too long to notice. Some nights, you could feel her lifting your beloved oversized shirt up just a bit to take a better look at your body. It was hard to suppress a smile, but you managed.

“A fucking thong, really? God.” you could hear her mutter quietly.

She’d mumble random shit like, “Wanna fuck you real bad,” when she was close to her orgasm. 

You’d often shift a bit too close to her to make her freak out, interrupting her imminent orgasm. It was entertaining hearing her panic and freeze. The little sigh of relief she'd let out when she looked over you to make sure you were ‘sleeping’ was even cuter to you.

˳·˖𖤐 One day, while doing the laundry, your eyes caught a flash of red fabric peeking out of her sweatpants, tucked deep inside the pocket. A brief moment of recognition made you realize it was your thong, one that you had lost long ago. And you remembered vividly how you had always wondered where it had gone. You knew Ellie had something to do with it—indeed, you were not wrong. “Perv,” you let out a breathy chuckle as you withdrew the thong from her pocket and tossed it inside the washing machine. 

˳·˖𖤐 Though you couldn’t say shit. You weren’t really in a position to, not when you had stolen her boxers—the very ones she had made a mess of the other night, getting off to your ‘innocent’ form in that thong, all sprawled out for her eyes only. Unlike her, you had tucked it away, ensuring she’d never find it—in your bottom drawer, buried beneath a pile of neatly folded clothes.

˳·˖𖤐 Everything had been rainbows and roses since your boyfriend was out of the picture, leaving Ellie with you all to herself, just as she liked it. She’d half-expected this wouldn’t last forever, but she didn’t think it would unravel so soon, too soon.

After your shower, wrapped only in a towel, you realized you’d forgotten to grab fresh clothes. Too lazy to trek back to your room, you decided Ellie’s closet would do just fine. “El! I’m borrowing your clothes!” you called out, already swinging open her closet door without waiting for a response. The woody, warm scent of her filled the small space, mingling with the crisp smell of laundry detergent.

Your gaze drifted downward, catching on a gym bag lying half-zipped. The black fabric looked dull under the dim light, but something about it drew you in. There were dark stains on the shirt peeking out—a rusted, dried red that had you swallowing hard. Right next to it sat a Ghostface mask, its hollow, grinning face staring up at you, taunting you, like it knew something you didn’t. 

Just then, Ellie’s voice cut through the silence, a little too rushed, a little too panicked. “Wait, I’ll get it for you!” You heard her footsteps nearing, but by the time she appeared in the doorway, you were already crouched down, inspecting the items, your fingers clutching your boyfriend’s shirt—now stiff with dried blood—and a stained knife in the other.

She froze, her already pale face drained of color as your eyes met. She didn’t say a thing, didn’t try to explain or reach out. She simply stood there, like a deer caught in headlights, waiting for you to make the first move.

“What the fuck?” you choked out, anger tangling in your throat. Your voice cracked, but you didn’t let it stop you. “Why do you have this, Ellie?!” The words were sharp, edged with accusation, and your fingers tightened around the shirt, clinging to the blood-soaked fabric like it was proof of a reality she couldn’t deny. 

Ellie flinched, cursing herself for not getting rid of that piece of evidence. Maybe it was the procrastination, or perhaps she was just too wrapped up in you—you had that effect on her. Her expression flickered between panic and something else, something guarded, as if she were mentally scrambling to find the right lie to feed you.

“I swear, it’s not what it looks like.” Her voice was low, almost eerily calm, meant to keep you from losing your mind and freaking out even more, but it was doing the opposite. “Sit down. I can explain. I promise.” She inched closer, coaxing you back toward her bed, trying to control the situation, as if talking you down would make all of this disappear. But you stepped away from her, backing toward the closet instead.

“Then fucking explain,” you demanded, your voice rising, heat flooding your cheeks as your pulse hammered. Your eyes trailed down to the Ghostface mask lying on the floor, and you kicked it toward her. “What the hell are you doing with all this shit? With my boyfriend’s shirt?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected you, as if that made a difference in the moment. But she cared enough about it to not hold her tongue. You scoffed in disbelief at her correction, and your stern look only prompted her to keep talking, desperate to answer your question. “I found it in the trash,” she began, her tone too smooth, her words practiced. “I was going to take it to the cops.” But you both knew that was a shitty excuse. The explanation hung in the air, feeble and hollow, cracking under the weight of your inquisitor glare.

“That’s a fucking lie, and you know it,” you spat, tightening your grip on the knife, its sharp tip now aimed right at her. 

“Just sit down, please. I’ll tell you everything.” Her words spilled out, each one more frantic than the last, thick with desperation as she inched closer, hands reaching out like she was steadying herself—or preparing to corner you.

You held your ground, pressing your back into the cold closet door, “No, fuck that!” you snapped, refusing to let her control the moment. Her jaw tightened, and in an instant, she lunged forward, catching your wrist and forcing it up against the wood, pinning the knife-holding hand in place.

“Listen to me!” she growled, her voice growing louder, almost vibrating with a tension that rippled between you, making you quiver. Her face was close, too close, so close that her warm breath hit your face, and her eyes locked onto yours, wild verdants unwavering, staring into your dilated pupils.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” you shouted, fury shaking the air between you as you pulled at her iron-tight grip. But it was useless. You were sick of her lies, of her half-truths. All you truly desired was for her to lay it all bare for you ‘cause you weren’t fucking dumb, and deep down, you knew it. You had known all along. Her grip only tightened, her knuckles turning white against your skin as her breaths came fast. This Ellie was raw, untamed—a far cry from the girl you had around every day. But in this harsh intensity, there was something real, something you’d been craving for.

“You wanna know the truth? Fine!” Her voice rose, each word bitten off, hard enough to make you flinch. She gazed down at the bloodstained shirt sprawled across the floor, her face hardening, “Yeah, that’s his. And yeah, that’s his blood. He deserved what he got.” 

“What the fuck, Ellie, you had no fucking right—” She slammed her other hand against the wooden surface of her closet door, inches away from your head, causing you to cut off your words before they could be fully uttered.

“He was cheating on you!” she interrupted you, her voice rough with anger, her face flushing red. “I saw him, alright? With that girl from the bar—the one you were always paranoid about. I fucking saw him with her. So yeah, I followed him, and things got… out of hand.”

You scanned her face, searching for any hint of regret or guilt, but all you found was a complete lack of remorse, an expression that only seemed to scream she’d do it all over again if she could. But it was exactly that thing in her eyes that pulled you in even more. “Then why not just tell me?” 

Why couldn’t you fear her? Why weren’t you grossed out? Shouldn’t you have had a typical reaction to her revelation, like screaming or crying over the brutal murder of your boyfriend? Instead, here you were, feeling oddly fascinated, giddy even.

“I wanted to,” she admitted, her voice a little raspier, her eyes glistening with what looked like tears—fake ones. The sudden empathy felt odd, something that didn’t belong to her, and you knew her too well for this shit. “But then I saw you, finally free, happy without him dragging you down. I thought I’d done you a favor. And then I just… couldn’t say it.” 

You pressed yourself harder against the closet door, staring at her like you were seeing her for the first time. You shook your head, “You’re lying,” you stated flatly, watching her mask drop.

“What? You think I’d lie?” she shot back, trying to twist the situation, like you were crazy for even suspecting her. But you knew better. Psychology classes were really paying off.

“Yes, Ellie, you’re lying.” you leaned in, and her jaw clenched as you continued. “You did it to Amanda and that girl at the party? You think I don’t remember that night? Just admit it!” You practically yelled, and a shadow passed over her face like an ominous cloud, her expression hardening again, her eyes growing cold, dark in a way that caught you off guard. One thing was for sure—there was a certain beauty in the way her captivating jade orbs effortlessly switched between the deceptive facade and the cold, calculated gaze of a serial killer. 

“Admit what?” her tone was mocking, like she was daring you to say it.

“That you—” The words stuck in your throat, your gaze slipping to the Ghostface mask on the floor. That’s when she ripped the knife out of your hand, her grip firm as she held it close to you, not quite pressing it into your skin, just close enough to see if it’d rattle you.

“C’mon,” she murmured, leaning in with that daring, dark smile, “say it.” Her eyes flashed with an edge of mania like she was enjoying this, feeding off your reactions, like some sick parasite.

“You killed them all.” you managed, voice barely a whisper, and she threw her head back in a laugh that sent chills down your spine.

“God, do you hear yourself? You sound pathetic,” she chuckled darkly, her knife tracing a line along your cheekbone, slow enough to make you shiver, close enough to cause goosebumps to erupt on your skin. Your chest tightened, your heartbeat loud in your ears as her lips curled in that contorted smile. ​​Your breath hitched as she leaned in, her gaze piercing through your irises, capturing every fleck of color.

“What? Gonna kill me now?” you breathed, your words almost taunting, a faint smirk pulling at your lips as her eyes narrowed.

She tilted the knife against your throat but still put no pressure. You felt yourself leaning into it, letting the thrill course through you and that familiar excitement growing in your tummy. “Gonna make me?” she whispered, voice thick and low, and for the briefest moment, her composure cracked—just enough for you to see her desperation, like she was hanging onto a thread. She needed you to stay, even after all this. She couldn’t live without you.

“I just want the truth,” you uttered, your voice soft, never breaking eye contact. And if you did, it was only to let your eyes drop to her lips, she was so tantalizingly close that it was impossible not to. “Drop the mind games. I want the truth.” You didn’t know how the hell you could still want her, adrenaline tangling in your chest, but you did. Maybe even more than before.

Her brows rose in mock surprise as she cocked her head. “You want the truth?” she echoed, lips parting in a cold smirk. “Fine. Yes, I killed your stupid fucking boyfriend. He died like a pussy,” she sneered, anger flashing as she clenched the knife, thinking of his hands on you, touching what had always belonged to her.

“Why?” you whispered, watching her like you were peeling away her layers, seeing her stripped of all pretenses.

“Why do you think?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes like it was obvious.

The words that tumbled from your mouth after her revelation left her almost astonished.

“How’d you kill him?” then, with a morbid fascination you added, “What did it feel like?” your head tilted slightly to the side. 

˳·˖𖤐 The more she went on and on about the macabre details, the more it turned you on. She was taken aback by your enthusiasm and curiosity, the specific questions flowing from your lips with an unsettling calm that she struggled to comprehend. It was almost as if you were savoring every twisted word that came from her. She couldn’t wrap her head around how her dark confessions had led to this moment—both of you naked, with you perched on top of her.

Ellie was gorgeous—way too gorgeous to be a serial killer, or a psychotic person. She was even more gorgeous beneath you, auburn strands of hair splayed across the pillow, messy but not as messy as her dripping pussy. Her breath hitched as your fingers tightened around the handle of her switchblade, the cold metal gliding from her neck down to her chest, drawing lazy white scratches all over her alabaster skin.

A low, frustrated groan escaped her lips as you drew lazy circles around her areolas with the sharp point of the knife, watching with satisfaction as her pink nipples hardened, standing at full attention for you, as hard as rocks and begging to be tortured. You could feel her grow restless beneath you—her hips bucking in a desperate attempt to grind against your pussy, but you lifted yourself ever so slightly, just enough to deprive her of the friction she craved.

“Desperate?” you mocked, your bottom lip jutting out in a cruel pout. Ellie’s eyes flicked up to yours, glazed with lust and frustration, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. A cocky front, even now. But it was just a front, she was so fucking weak for you.

“Yeah,” she rasped, her voice betraying her need, but her eyes showed a glint of defiance. She couldn’t resist trying to fight back. “But you’re dragging this out like a coward.”

You hummed sultrily, letting the blade press just a little harder against her dotty complexion—not enough to cut, but enough to leave faint red marks across her flesh. “Oh, you think you’re in a position to talk back?” you spat, your free hand pinning her wrist above her head as she squirmed. “You’re fucking sick, Ellie.”

“Like you’re any better,” she sneered, though her voice trembled as the tip of the knife traced down her sternum toward her stomach. Goosebumps rose on her sun-spotted skin as her breathing became more erratic, her hips lifting in vain again to seek the friction you kept cruelly out of her reach.

“Not the one going around killing people, am I?” you snorted, the blade now grazing and lingering just below her belly button.

Ellie’s defiance cracked, her voice weaker, more fragile as she muttered, “I did it for you.” it made your heart skip a beat or beat faster—you really couldn’t tell from all that adrenaline clouding your rational thoughts.

“You’re trembling,” you noted with a sly smirk, her cocky grin faltering as the knife inched lower, closer to where she needed you most. Ellie bit her lip hard, a needy whimper slipping through despite her best effort to stifle it.

“I need you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, one hand reaching up to rest on your hip. Her touch sent a shiver through you, and you couldn’t help but lower yourself closer, pressing your body against hers. 

A wicked smirk tugged at your lips, pride swelling in your chest at the sight of her—the usually cold, calculated killer, reduced to this. All because of you. Seeing her this weak for you truly made you want to do the unholiest things to her, things you knew she would never forget about. You tossed the switchblade aside, forgotten as soon as your lips descended on her neck, sucking dark spots on her soft flesh. You let your teeth sink in, biting just hard enough to get a soft sound out of her. The auburnette was so desperate and sensitive that everything seemed to make her moan—every brief touch, every kiss, even your breathing fanning over her skin. She was already half-gone, and you were barely even getting started.

Her skin flushed beneath your lips as you kissed your way down her body, taking your sweet time, savoring each second of her squirming beneath you. Her breaths grew more ragged, her thighs twitching as you moved lower. Ellie’s body was a temple, and right now, it was all yours to worship.

She’d killed for you, it was the least you could do. So, was romance really dead?

˳·˖𖤐 You’d never imagined Ellie would care that much, never thought she’d be capable of that level of obsession. And you didn’t mind it one bit. No, quite the opposite. The realization only made your pussy throb madly, heat pooling between your thighs as your mind replayed her confession over and over like a broken record, focusing on the brutal details she had given you. It wasn’t just the idea of her killing—it was that she did it because of you, because she couldn’t let anyone else have you.

Every single muscle in her body tensed, her legs trembling as you hovered right above her hairy mound. You could see it—the way her wetness coated her folds, her pink clit, swollen and impatient, her pussy practically begging for attention, and it only made you want to tease her more. Your thumb teasingly drew tight, gentle circles on her aching nub, making her whimper almost exaggeratedly.

“Aww, look at you…” you purred, retracting your hand, your voice low, honed in sweet mockery. You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over her sensitive skin. “Soaking wet, desperate for me to touch you. Gonna start begging now?”

Your words made her whine, her resolve crumbling more with each passing second—not that there was any left. Her body betrayed her, hips lifting toward your face, her need palpable. But you weren’t done playing with her yet. You had all night ahead.

Your arms curled around her toned thighs, pulling her closer as you knelt at the edge of the bed, your face mere inches from her pussy. You could see how wet she was, how desperate she had become—there was even a dark wet patch on the sheets beneath her. You smirked up at her, eyes locking with hers as you lowered your mouth to her slick folds. With the tip of your tongue, you spread her moistened lips, and it was enough to make Ellie’s entire body jolt, a choked moan tearing from her throat as you tasted her, her sweet juices coating your lips as you lapped at her with slow, deliberate cat licks.

Ellie’s head fell back against the pillow, her hands gripping your hair with white-knuckled desperation as you ate her out, tongue flicking over her clit every now and then with just enough pressure to drive her mad. You sucked, your lips closing around her swollen bud, and Ellie’s back arched painfully off the bed, her thighs trembling around your head.

“Fuck… fuck…” she gasped, her hoarse voice scratching her already dry throat as her hips bucked uncontrollably and you held her down, refusing to let her squirm away from the relentless onslaught of your mouth.

You smirked against her, the vibrations of your giggle only making her moan louder. “Look at you, El,” you teased, your voice muffled between her thighs. “So sweet ‘n perfect f’me,”

You didn’t wait for a response, diving back in, your tongue swirling around her clit as you slipped two fingers inside her, curling them with brutal precision, finding that sweet spot that had her toes curling, her breath catching in her throat. Her gummy walls clenched around your fingers, and you could feel how close she was, her legs shaking violently.

Ellie’s moans grew louder, more frantic, her hands tugging at your hair hard as she tried to ground herself, grinding against your tongue. But you didn’t slow down—if anything, you fucked her harder, your fingers pumping into her fast and deep, your mouth never abandoning her needy clit, your nose buried in her trimmed bush.

“Beg me,” you commanded as you pulled away to breathe, her core swallowing every inch of your fingers greedily. All those years of plugging her fingers deep inside her wet cunt imagining they were yours instead were so worth the wait.

“I—fuck—” the green-eyed girl’s breath caught, her body shaking uncontrollably, her voice barely a whisper now. “Please… please…” She couldn’t even fucking function; you had reduced her to a broken mess.

“Can’t hear you,” you prompted her, your fingers plunging deeper, harder, until her back arched off the bed, a cry of pure need tearing from her throat.

“Fuck! Please, I need it—I need you—fuck, I’m so close!” she sobbed, her voice cracking as her orgasm crept closer, promising her to see stars, but you weren’t about to give her what she wanted—no, not yet.

You grinned wickedly, pulling your fingers out of her soaked pussy just before she could. A strangled, frustrated sob escaped her plump lips as her body writhed beneath you, her orgasm stolen, leaving her aching and needy.

“Aw, you’re not so smart, are you? You really thought I was going to let you come?” You leaned in, pressing your lips to her ear as you whispered, “Oh no, El… we’re just getting started. You’re not going anywhere.”

˳·˖𖤐 Ellie’s eyes widened with a mixture of frustration and confusion as you told her you’d let her come after you were done using her. You reached for your favorite strap-on, adjusting the harness until it sat snugly around her hips. Her wrists were bound securely to the headboard, the cuffs’ soft, fluffy lining pressing firmly against her skin. Her breath caught in her throat as the realization dawned on her, her eyes darting between the toy and your wicked grin. 

Her pupils were blown with lust as she watched you lower yourself onto her, the thick silicone toy sliding in with ease after you’d teased your throbbing bud with its tip. Her hands twitched, desperate to reach out, to touch you, but she couldn’t do much with the handcuffs keeping her wrists locked to the bed, the soft restraints holding her firmly in place. She watched with wide eyes as her cock stretched your needy, wet heat, sliding in and out. At first, your movements were slow and teasing, letting her take in every inch, but it didn’t take long before you picked up the pace, your body already accustomed to its size, moving with a frantic, eager rhythm.

“Fuuuck…” you panted, rolling your hips against the toy, your breath hitching as that familiar feeling built in your stomach. Ellie’s gaze was glued to you—your bouncing tits, your parted lips, the way your body moved smoothly above her. She wanted to touch, to feel you, but all she could do was watch as you used her, as you fucked yourself on the strap like she wasn’t even there. It was cruel, truly. Her body trembled with need as she watched you lose yourself in the overwhelming pleasure, her pussy throbbing with unmet desire as yours seemed to suck the toy deeper, and for a moment, she swore she could feel your walls tightening around her—perhaps it was the desperation playing a sick joke on her. She couldn’t help but let out a moan.

˳·˖𖤐 She had tried begging but she’d only be met with things such as:

“Cry about it,” you sneered, your voice cold and mocking as you watched her squirm restlessly beneath you.

“You’re such a fucking crybaby,” you murmured, fingers gripping onto her chin and forcing her to look at you as if her desperation was nothing more than a joke to you.

“I’m putting up a whole show for you, and you’re still complaining,” you chuckled darkly, a twisted satisfaction curling at the corners of your mouth as you looked down at her, reveling in her helplessness, your wetness dripping down the harness, making a mess on top of her.

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice cracking as she thrusted up. Mewls slipped out of your soft lips as the tip of her silicone cock hit your cervix, desperation written all over her flushed face. “Please let me touch you... let me do something...” Her voice hitched as she choked on a sob, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her glassy eyes locked onto yours, her cheeks streaked with the remnants of her pleas. “Fuck, I can’t—” she cried out, voice breaking again, her head tilting back as she tried to hold herself together. Her gaze flickered back up to you, trailing to your chest, lingering there hungrily. Bushy brows furrowed with longing as she licked her chapped lips.

But you weren’t listening. You were too lost in the pleasure of fucking yourself on her, your head thrown back, sobs pouring from your lips as the strap-on hit that perfect spot against your cervix. Your movements grew more frantic, hips slamming down harder, faster, the toy sliding in and out of your slick folds with ease. The wet sounds of your arousal filled her room, mixing with the desperate, needy gasps that escaped Ellie beneath you, her fingers curling into fists as the cuffs dug into her velvety skin, promising bruises she’d feel long after this was over.

Her eyes glazed over, chest rising and falling rapidly as she watched you ride her with reckless abandon. The sight of you, your body glistening with sweat, pretty tits bouncing with every thrust, was too much for her. She was on the edge, teetering, her body aching to release, but you wouldn’t let her. You wouldn’t let her do shit.

Ellie groaned, frustration and lust mixing in her voice as she bucked her hips uselessly beneath you, trying to gain even a fraction of relief from the sight of you fucking yourself senseless. “Please… please, I’m begging you,” she whimpered, her voice hoarse and broken, and god if it nearly made you squirt. “I need it—I need to come, please…”

You smirked down at her, not stopping, your hips grinding harder, riding the strap with everything you had. You leaned down, your breath hot against the shell of her ear as you whispered, “You’re not coming until I say you can. You’re going to sit there and watch me get off, and there’s nothing you can fucking do about it.” Cruelly pressing damp and sloppy kisses on the column of her neck, kisses that had her gasping pathetically.

˳·˖𖤐 And it went on and on, her eyes locked on the sight of your milky cum dripping down the thick, black strap, each drop making her bite back a groan. She wished she could taste you. Every time she tried to move or squirm too much for your liking, you’d smack her hard across the face, or switch to a new position just to tease her even more, making sure you were giving her the best view. It was only after the fifth—or maybe the sixth—orgasm that you finally uncuffed her.

The moment her wrists were free, she flipped you over, quick as lightning, giving you no time to react. She pinned you beneath her with a mischievous glint in her eyes, you looked up at her, panting and spent, your brows knitting together in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. She just smirked down at you, spreading your trembling legs apart with ease, her grip firm and unyielding.

“Oh fuck, no—” you gasped out, trying to squirm away as she wrapped her hand around the slick toy, guiding it right back to your abused entrance. She knew she could probably come right then, grinding against the back of the strap, but the thought of pushing you past your limits was far more thrilling. 

“You’re not stupid enough to think I’d let you go so easily, right?” she repeated your earlier words, her voice low and dangerous as she lowered herself over you, your sweaty bodies pressing together. “Didn’t you wanna be my helpless victim, babe?”

The redhead pushed in relentlessly, forcing your pulsating walls to swallow every inch, your back arching as she made you hold on just a little longer. Before long, your legs gave out beneath you as she pounded into you from behind, each thrust deep and brutal, your cheek pressed into the soft mattress. Her hand came down hard on your ass, leaving a sharp sting that burned like a bitch. The smacks kept coming, over and over, until your skin was bruised and your body was shaking with overstimulation. “This is for leaving me high and dry,” she hissed, her voice rough with frustration and desire, slapping the same bruised spot again and again, until you knew you’d be sore for days, unable to sit down.

˳·˖𖤐 When it was finally over, the two of you laid tangled together, breathless and sticky. Ellie’s chest heaved as she tried to steady her breathing, but a question lingered in her eyes—one that seemed to claw at her even now, despite everything you’d done to show her you weren’t running, that you weren’t disgusted by her nature. You had never been, for the matter, even when you were kids.

“You’re not gonna tell on me, yeah?” she rasped, her voice rough, her grip tightening possessively on your hip while her other hand gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Her touch was surprisingly tender, contrasting with the weight of her words, like she was scared to hear your answer. It made your heart swell knowing she feared losing you so badly.

But you were so drunk of the overwhelming contentment that you barely registered the tension in her voice. Instead, a sleepy smile tugged at your lips, and you blurted out, “Wanna be my girlfriend?” The question slipped out before you could think, your gaze locked onto her freckled face, admiring every angle and curve, the way the warm dim light softened her expression.

Ellie blinked, caught off guard, before a playful smirk curved her lips. “I am your girlfriend,” she gave your hip a gentle swat that made you chuckle softly, the sound mixing with the quiet hum of the fan.

“Y’know…you’re right,” you mumbled suddenly. Her hand drifted to your back, scratching lightly, soothing you as your body relaxed into hers. You turned your head, meeting her soft eyes again, while something darker flashed in yours. “He fucking deserved what he got,” Your voice was low, carrying a finality that made Ellie’s breath hitch. It was all the reassurance she needed. A wide grin spread across her face, her eyes lighting up with something almost feral, a giddy kind of joy. It was a smile so genuine, so purely her, that it was impossible to resist leaning in to kiss her, your lips meeting hers in a messy, heated kiss. 

“But yeah, if you leave me I’m gonna tell on you.”

˳·˖𖤐 She had gotten clingier and more eager after that night, always looking for an excuse to touch you, to keep you within reach. Whenever you went somewhere, Ellie trailed right behind you, like a shadow that wouldn’t leave your side. And honestly, you loved it—you thrived on bossing her around, enjoying how she would drop whatever she was doing just to be with you. If the two of you were inseparable as friends before, it had only gotten worse. Not that the obsessive, morbid love wasn’t there before, but now you both let it show, with no boundaries left to be set, no rules, just whatever twisted thing you both had become together.

˳·˖𖤐 Time flew by, and soon Halloween rolled around again, your favorite holiday. Ellie knew it, too, and she didn’t even try to say no when you convinced her to tag along to a party you’d been invited to. It was supposed to be a small, “close friends only” type of thing, but you dragged her with you anyway, making it clear you weren’t going to take no for an answer. Plus, you’d been at each other’s throats lately, bickering more than usual, and she didn’t want to risk making you any angrier. It was either coming along without putting up a fight or dealing with the idea of you going solo—knowing she’d just end up following you like the little creep she was, lurking in the shadows, making sure no one even dared to touch you.

˳·˖𖤐 The party turned out to be better than either of you had expected. A few drinks in, and you both started to loosen up, Ellie sticking close, practically attached to your side with some invisible rope. It was like she couldn’t let you out of her sight, even for a second, her hand always finding its way to your back or waist, keeping you close. You danced together, swaying in the colorful, pulsing lights, your bodies brushing intimately against each other. Her eyes stayed glued to you the whole time, like you were the Holy Mary herself, and she just couldn’t get enough. You reveled in her devotion, the way her grip on your hips would tighten as you moved. It was such a turn-on.

Eventually, the party began to wind down, and it wasn’t long before it was just the two of you left with Allison and her boyfriend, Lucas. The four of you gravitated toward the kitchen, where Ellie leaned against the counter, elbows propped up on the cold granite. She played with the knives, her fingers casually tracing the handles, sliding them in and out of the block absentmindedly.

Allison scrolled through her phone, her brown eyes squinting at the screen’s dim glow. “Another guy went missing,” she announced, her voice wavering as she scanned through the article. “I bet Ghostface has something to do with it.”

“Tragic,” Ellie muttered, her tone devoid of sympathy. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, a ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. You watched her, catching the unsettling indifference in her voice. When she noticed your gaze, she raised an eyebrow in mock innocence, daring you to question her. Instead, she shrugged. Allison went on and on about how creepy it was that Ghostface could be literally anyone, her voice holding a mix of fascination and fear. 

“I mean, think about it,” she said, eyes wide as she gestured dramatically. “It could be your neighbor, your friend, even someone you totally trust! Just wearing that mask and knife in hand, ready to strike any moment. It’s so fucked up!” As Allison thought about the countless times she had passed by potential killers, she couldn’t help but shudder in fear at her luck. How many times had she walked down a dark alleyway, taken a walk alone at night, or even trusted the wrong person? The thought of her mortality sent a chill down her spine and made her wonder how long her luck would hold out.

“Yeah, it’s scary,” you hummed, but then the conversation shifted back to the guy who had gone missing. 

“You’ve got to be dumb to get killed like that, though,” Ellie scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. “Came all the way from Michigan just to end up dead? Pathetic. Guess all those muscles didn’t help much.”

Allison frowned at Ellie’s lack of empathy, but she shrugged it off, scrolling through her phone for more details, her thumb flicking faster across the screen. “That’s… awful,” you murmured, chewing on your bottom lip as you glanced over at Lucas, who seemed unfazed by the conversation.

Lucas noticed your look and mistook it for unease. “You okay?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes. “Want a drink or something?”

You nodded, playing into his kindness. “Sure, thanks.”

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to Allison’s head before heading to the kitchen, leaving you, Ellie, and Allison alone in the dim living room.

“Wait—” Allison’s brows knitted in confusion, her voice soft but growing with unease. “How’d you know he was from Michigan? It doesn’t say anything about…” Her voice trailed off as she continued scrolling, her eyes flicking back and forth over the screen, trying to make sense of what Ellie had just casually dropped.

Ellie’s smile barely flickered. “Just a guess,” she replied smoothly, her gaze icy and unbothered, creeping Allison out.

You chuckled at the exchange, and Allison turned to you with a confused look. “C’mon, cheer up, Allison! We’re just messing with you. Can’t you take a joke? It’s Halloween!”

Allison’s frown deepened as she glanced between you and Ellie, her eyes clouding with suspicion. She let out a nervous laugh, trying to shake off the unsettling vibe. “You two are… really something,” she said, brushing it off, not wanting to overthink it. Maybe paranoia was just doing her dirty. Oh, if she only knew.

Ellie smirked, she leaned forward, her voice dropping low. “Oh, you have no idea,” she whispered, her tone laced with something dark and final, a warning the girl didn’t quite catch.

Lucas handed you the drink, his face lighting up with an easy smile, completely unaware of the exchange. 

“You guys wanna play a game?” you asked, grinning at Allison and Lucas. The suggestion hung in the air, deceptively playful. Allison exchanged a look with Lucas, her unease melting a bit, as if convincing herself she was just imagining things.

She forced a smile. “Sure. What kind of game?”

Ellie’s grin widened, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “How about something… fun?”

˳·˖𖤐 Maybe it was the thrill of the game or the intoxicating rush of chaos, but after a few questions were answered and it was your turn, your eyes widened in shock as the blade pierced your stomach. Time seemed to slow down as you locked eyes with Ellie, and what you saw there sent a chill down your spine—your girlfriend’s eyes were empty, devoid of emotion—not even guilt shone in her eyes. It was like staring into a void. 

Blood poured from your mouth, warm and sticky, and panic coursed through you. When a week ago she had suggested trying something new, never did you think that would lead to this—her knife buried deep inside your insides, and blood pouring out of you like a crimson-tainted waterfall.

“W-why…?” you choked on your own blood, the words barely audible but with the stillness of the room, they seemed to echo louder. 

Allison and Lucas stood completely frozen, utterly speechless, their bodies rigid with shock as they watched the horrific scene unfold before their eyes, feeling useless and not knowing how to stop it. The crimson blood pooled out of your wound, soaking the fabric of your shirt, while Ellie’s gloves gleamed with a sinister shine. The red wasn’t so visible against the darkness of her attire, but it was there, unmistakable. 

“It was the wrong answer, babe,” Ellie whispered, her words dripping with a sickening sweetness that made your skin crawl, and the innocent faint smile on her face made Allison want to rip her hair out. 

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Allison screamed, her voice laced with disbelief, her eyes wide as she took a shaky step back.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Lucas followed, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and anger, trying to process the madness unfolding in front of him.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING MONSTER!” Allison yelled, her voice cracking as she cried, her hands shaking.

Your body hit the floor with a heavy thud, and through half-lidded eyes, you saw the panic set in as Allison and Lucas before you stopped breathing entirely. They scrambled for the door, nearly tripping over themselves. Allison’s frantic, manicured hands rattled desperately the knob, her voice shrill as she screamed for help, but the door wouldn’t budge. Locked. 

And she hadn’t locked it. She was sure she hadn’t.

Lucas, desperate to protect her, grabbed a vase from the entry table and hurled it at Ellie, the glass shattering against her shoulder with a harsh crack. It staggered her for a moment, just long enough for them to dart in separate directions, fleeing up the stairs. 

Ellie grinned, her eyes flashing with excitement as she took off after Lucas, her steps heavy but steady, savoring the thrill of the chase, like a cat chasing a mouse. She looked over her shoulder at you before she raced up the stairs. Allison stumbled into the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The auburnette could hear the blonde girl breathing heavily, panicked, the creak of the floorboards giving her away as she backed into the room.

But she decided to take care of Lucas instead, having labeled Allison as the weakest between the two. She successfully cornered Lucas at the end of the hallway. He threw open the door to the master bathroom, eyes darting desperately around for anything he could use to defend himself. He grabbed a towel rack, ripping it off the wall and wielding it like a bat as Ellie advanced on him, her face lit with a twisted satisfaction. A stupid towel rack wasn’t going to stop her, and honestly, it excited her. She loved how people fought for their lives, no matter how fucked up the situation was. It was fascinating to watch, like a wild show of survival instincts kicking in. The panic, the desperation on their faces and in their actions—it was what got her heart racing and made her feel alive.

“You… you’re insane!” Lucas stammered, brandishing the metal rod with trembling hands.

He was taller, bigger, stronger—details that only made the auburnette’s grin widen, her attentive eyes narrowing with anticipation. To her, he was nothing but a challenge, one she was all too eager to take on. Ellie chuckled darkly, her eyes never leaving him as she took one slow, measured step forward. “Only now figuring that out, huh?” She took another step, her shadow looming over him as he shrank back against the tiled wall, his breaths coming in panicked gasps. He swung the metal bar, catching her arm with a glancing hit, but it only seemed to amuse her more. She couldn’t feel pain—not even the faintest pulse of her own heartbeat, completely drowned out by the surge of adrenaline flooding her veins. She felt invincible.

With a swift, practiced precision, Ellie caught his wrist, twisting it sharply until the rod clattered to the aquamarine floor. “Nice try, Lucas,” she hissed before shoving him backward, hard enough that his head cracked against the tile. He slumped to the floor, groaning, his vision swimming as Ellie towered over him. But he fought nonetheless, his hands trying to stop her from sinking the sharp knife into his throat, but it didn’t last long. He didn’t last long.

“That was stupid,” she panted, standing over his corpse, her look sharp and full of disdain. Her face was scrunched in anger, but the adrenaline flooding her veins felt incredible—like a drug she couldn’t get enough of. The thrill of it. A loud noise snapped her from her thoughts. The old wood creaked under her black boots as she headed toward the room where she’d last seen Allison hide.

˳·˖𖤐 The guest bedroom door was slightly ajar, and she shoved it open with a firm kick. Her eyes locked onto Allison, sprawled lifeless on the floor, blood pooling around her still body. Her face was frozen in horror as if she’d seen a ghost in her final moments. Her gaze drifted up—to you, standing just a few feet from Allison’s lifeless body.

“Hey, babe,” you said with a crooked smile, giving her a little wave, clearly nervous but with a spark of excitement in your eyes that made her stare in awe. She remembered that feeling all too well—the jitters, the high that followed her first time. And here you were, cheeks flushed and grinning ear to ear like the fucking Cheshire cat, looking so damn giddy as you took it all in—like a kid who had just discovered their new favorite toy. 

Trying new things had definitely been the right move, and Ellie didn’t regret it for a second, because you were practically glowing. For the first time, you felt truly alive. It hit you then, just how much emptiness you’d been carrying all these years, how you’d learned to live with that hollow feeling. But this? This made you feel whole. Euphoric. Alive in every possible way.

“How’d I do?” you asked, almost childlike, looking up at her with eager eyes, fishing for approval—her approval. It was all you needed, and it felt like trying to impress a middle school crush all over again.

“Pretty good, my love. You did great,” she praised, a hint of pride sneaking into her voice.

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.

Her gaze softened briefly, a low, amused, throaty laugh slipping from her lips as she pushed a stray lock of hair back with the back of her blood-stained glove, leaving a smudged streak of red across her cheekbone. Her emerald eyes sparkled as she took in the mess you’d created. “You know, for a second there, I didn’t think you’d go through with it. Look at you now.” Her tongue darted across her bottom lip as she looked at you up and down, ready to pounce on you any time now.

You blushed, a bit sheepish, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the floor. “What can I say? Guess you’re a bad influence,” you smirked, shrugging it off like it was nothing.

She tossed the knife aside, and you mirrored her every move, watching as she peeled off her gloves and stepped closer. Her toothy smile widened as she pulled you in, her thumb brushing softly across your cheekbone, still warm from the adrenaline rush, while her other trembling hand rested on your waist. “Oh, yeah? Gonna start blaming me now?”

“Maybe,” you shot back, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

The freckled girl leaned in, pressing her lips against yours, soft and warm and she tasted so sweet.

“Your performance down there was flawless, and your technique…” she trailed off, her eyes trailing down to Allison’s body, “Not bad for your first time. A little shaky on the left stab, but hey,” she shrugged, lips curling into a teasing smirk, knowing damn well that even the gentlest dose of constructive criticism would get under your skin, “we’ll work on it.”

You scoffed and swatted her hand away, but Ellie just giggled, her laugh soft and breathless. “Can’t believe you got that question wrong, though,” she reached up to cup your face, her thumb brushing your cheek again, she couldn’t keep her hands off of you. That familiar smug smirk tugged at her heart-shaped lips as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a more playful one, her breath warm against your heated skin. “We’ve only watched the first Scream movie a hundred times together,” she said, almost mockingly offended, her green eyes bright with mischief, the ones that told you exactly what she had in mind. And she swore she was falling deeper for you, you had her in a chokehold.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “I only watched it because you were obsessed with it and I thought you were cute,” you admitted.

Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she raised her scarred eyebrow at you. “Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling her hand drift lower to your waist, pulling you closer, you cupped her cheek, your thumb caressing her blood-stained cheekbone lovingly, staring at her enamored.

Her lips brushed against your ear, voice low and teasing. “You know what I'm really in the mood for?” Her hand slipped lower and lower until it was resting on your plush ass, giving it a suggestive squeeze.

You chuckled, pretending to think. “Pizza?”

She let out a soft laugh. “I was gonna say you, but…” She gave you that crooked, lopsided smile, shrugging playfully.

You snorted, “Oh, well, that too. I just didn’t know killing works up your appetite.”

Her smirk deepened, revealing that dimple on her left cheek you loved so much, her infatuated gaze lingering on your lips almost as if she wanted to swallow you whole. “My bad. Should’ve warned you,” she murmured, then backed you toward the bed behind you, her hands rough but confident, pressing you down as she crawled on top, her breath hot and insistent against your supple skin.

Before you knew it, she was buried deep inside you, slender, calloused fingers curling and pressing against that spot that had you whining, and your legs trembling. Her other hand gripped her switchblade, cool metal tracing up to press it against your throat, and she could feel you squeeze her fingers. “Awwhh, baby,” she taunted, voice dripping with mockery. “You keep squirming like that, and it’s gonna cost you your life.”

You choked out a laugh, though it came out breathless and shaky. “You’d cum at the sight, wouldn’t you?” You bit your lip to stifle a moan, body struggling to hold still as she kept up that relentless rhythm, her fingers stretching and curling deep inside you, making your whole body shudder. You couldn’t help but trap her arm, a weak attempt to slow her down because you knew you wouldn’t last. Not with her pressing a knife on your throat. “Fucking psycho.”

“But you love me.” She said it so matter-of-factly, her lips curling with satisfaction as she watched you nod, helpless and needy, your eyes fluttering shut as your walls clenched around her, drawing her in like you couldn’t get enough.

“Yeah, I love you! F-Fuck…” you gasped, grinding down on her fingers, desperate, craving that friction your hungry clit needed. 

Her smitten gaze drifted to the lifeless body sprawled across the room, a proud smirk tugging at her lips. “So proud of you. You did such a good job. Look at her.” She tilted your face, forcing you to take it in. “Your work.” And in her fucked up mind, she truly believed it—your work deserved to be worshiped, just like Picasso’s after he was gone. A masterpiece, painted with every kind of brutal emotion.

You let out a shaky breath, almost dazed. “Yeah, I… I did that,” you stammered, voice breaking, caught somewhere between a whimper and a sob, you could feel it, you were close already and all that praising surely wasn’t helping.

“That’s right,” she murmured, nodding as her eyes roamed over you, taking you in like she was seeing you for the first time, it made you melt. “You’re so fucking hot, god. Made just for me. Perfect for me.”

˳·˖𖤐 Maybe she was right. You felt it deep down, a truth that clung to you. A match made in hell. And as long as you had her, you’d be more than fine.

[star-sim]

clementine ☆ heeseung lee

☆ non-idol! heeseung x fem! reader ☆ summary: heeseung was home for the summer. but so were you, the one girl that he's always hated since your playground days. the worst part was that you suddenly got hot, and now he had no idea what to do with himself. unfortunately, an entire year of not seeing each other creates the perfect conditions for one of you (or both of you) to catch feelings! ☆ genre: fluff, college! au, loser!heeseung, boyfailure x girlboss, nerdy heeseung LOL, childhood enemies to lovers, neighbors au!, humor, #patheticmen, suggestive-ish but not rlly ☆ warning(s)? loser!heeseung is SO awkward you might get embarrassed MEOW ☆ word count: 16.1k words ☆ based off the song "clementine" by grentperez. i hope this feels summery and cutesy hehe

Heeseung swore that he was going crazy.

Because why on earth was he actually attracted to you?

You, who used to kick over his sandcastles in the sandbox. You, who always hogged the slides at the playground. You, who always made a point to get him first in a game of tag. You, who always rolled your eyes at him no matter what he said. You, who made it clear to him and everyone on the face of the earth that you couldn’t stand him.

Heeseung couldn’t believe that he was even thinking about it— Why were you hot?

It's been about two weeks since Heeseung returned home for summer break. He'd finished his first full term at UC San Diego, majoring in communications. He had been living in the dorms the entire year, so it's been quite a while since Heeseung had been home.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed like nothing had changed.

They always said that adulthood and college really changes a person. But Heeseung felt the same as always.

All throughout middle school and highschool, Heeseung's summer days were often spent indoors. Reading books, drawing in his sketchbooks, playing video games, talking to his friends, and sometimes even laying in complete silence and just staring at the ceiling. 

And all these years later, Heeseung was still doing the same this summer. 

It's only the beginning of summer, but Heeseung has done next to nothing. He's seen his old friends maybe once or twice, and really only went outside from time to time to take out trash or help his mom water the plants in the backyard.

Truthfully, nothing about Heeseung has changed. He was still the quiet, introverted guy that liked time alone.

Nothing has changed.... all except one thing.

And it was driving Heeseung nuts.

You.

You were the neighbor girl, and consequently, someone that's shown up in every stage of his life. Your parents quickly became friends, so your families were closely intertwined and spent a considerable amount of time together.

The two of you went to the same high school, middle school, elementary school— heck you even played at the same playground. 

And for some reason, you just loved to torment him. It was never anything serious, but any opportunity you got, you would bother him and just be the most annoying person ever. 

Everyone in his life insisted that you were just the best little angel, but that couldn't be any further from the truth. You were mean and childish and insufferable.

And to make it worse, you always seemed to beat Heeseung at everything. Ever since your elementary school days, you somehow always got a better score than Heeseung, whether it be an assignment on coloring shapes or your AP US History scores. His parents and your parents always reassured him that he was good too, but how was he supposed to feel encouraged when you just beat him at everything?!

And you never failed to let him know it, too. You always had that sly little grin.

You even beat him in getting into his dream university. It's not really your fault technically, because it was your dream university, too. But it's the principle of it!

Heeseung couldn't help but narrow his eyes and clench his fists when he heard his mom talk about how well you're doing at UC Irvine in your prestigious little public health major.

Hate was too strong of a word, but he couldn't say that he liked you at all.

Which was why Heeseung felt his sanity slipping away.

The last thing that he expected when he came back for the summer was for you to get hot. And boy, you were hot.

It was actually infuriating how attractive you got.

Sure, Heeseung's seen you grow up beside him, but in his mind you were always the snotty six year-old that stole his candy. But after an entire year of not seeing you, he couldn't help but gawk at you.

Look, he wasn't actively seeking you out. 

Just, every time that Heeseung was out watering the plants or helping with yard work, you just so happened to peek your head over the garden wall to say hi to his dad. Your face always scrunched up when you caught a glimpse of Heeseung, murmuring a tight-lipped greeting to him too before your head dipped back under the wall.

The first time it happened, Heeseung's jaw nearly dropped. Because since when were you pretty?

The second time that Heeseung saw you was at the local ice cream parlor near the pier. In all the ice cream parlors in Orange County, you just had to go to the same one as him. 

You were wearing a bikini top with denim shorts, sunglasses atop your head. Clearly, you had just been at the beach. You had a group of friends around you (after all, between the two of you, you were the social and popular one), yet Heeseung could only look at you.

There was just something about the way the bikini top hugged your body. Maybe it was the droplets of water running down your chest. Or maybe it was the way you swayed to the faint background music of the parlor, your face looking relaxed and dreamy. Or maybe it was the way he felt so goddamn small next to you, despite having screamed and yelled and fought with you so many times in his childhood.

Since then, it felt like you just popped up everywhere. On days that Heeseung's brother or cousins forced him out of the house, you somehow managed to be where he was. And every single time, he'd just stand there and ogle at you. Even when his brother or cousins would say hi to you and strike up a conversation, Heeseung was always rendered speechless, too busy looking at the way your lips moved to truly register anything.

It almost made him angry. How dare you become hot over the past year? How dare you make him feel so stupid?

In every way possible, you were glowing. 

And it was killing Heeseung.

Heeseung let out a sigh as he sunk down onto his bed. 

It was already 8PM, yet the sky outside was still amidst the sunset. His fan was blasting, and so was his house's AC system— he even opened up his windows— yet it was still too hot.

Jamming his earbuds in his ear, Heeseung picked at the hem of his t-shirt, ignoring the way that the hair on the nape of his neck clung to his skin due to sweat.

Heeseung, even throughout college, called his friends a lot. But now that it was summer, all his friends were busy on vacation or having plans, and didn't have a lot of time to call.

Heeseung listened to the ringtone, tapping his fingers impatiently.

Finally, the ringtone stopped.

"Hey, man," a familiar, deep voice rang in Heeseung's ears. "What's up?"

"Jay!" Heeseung cried.

Jay Park was Heeseung's best friend all throughout his life. Although Jay was a year younger than him, that never was a problem in their friendship. Jay had just graduated high school, and he'd be attending UC San Diego with Heeseung next term. 

Out of everyone at home, Jay was the one person that Heeseung spoke to the most. 

He told him everything, and if he didn't, Jay always managed to get it out of him one way or another.

"What's on your mind?" Jay huffed. He always sounded exasperated, but he meant well. The moment that he graduated, Jay went back to his hometown in Seattle to meet with family. Luckily, Heeseung caught him before he left to congratulate him. Otherwise, Jay's been busy, so Heeseung appreciated him taking the time to talk to him.

Unfortunately, Jay knew Heeseung too well. Of course there was something on his mind— You. But Heeseung would rather die than admit it, even to his closest, most trusted friend. Not only was it embarrassing, but Jay's heard and witnessed it all. Heeseung would never live it down if Jay found out.

"Nothing!" Heeseung said in a sing-songy voice. "I just miss my best friend soooooo much."

Jay was fun to tease.

"Yeah, yeah." Heeseung could practically hear Jay roll his eyes, scowl, and scrunch his nose over the phone, something he did whenever he was embarrassed. "Well, I had a feeling that there was something on your mind. You never spam me with emojis unless you have something serious to talk about."

Heeseung scoffed playfully. Jay really did know him too well. 

"Nope!" Heeseung said, popping the p. 

"Right," Jay responded, and the older could tell that he was suspicious. 

A few moments of comfortable silence fell over the two of them. Sometimes, they didn't know what to say to each other, but being in each other's presence was enough.

"Oh!" Jay suddenly exclaimed, "I just remembered something that I wanted to tell you!"

Heeseung hummed in response. It was probably some crazy gossip about a teacher from their old high school getting arrested.

"But, you need to promise me that you won't tell anyone," the younger boy said, his voice eager and impatient. "Like, you can't tell anyone."

Heeseung hummed again. "Yeah."

"No, like, promise me," Heeseung could hear the fervor in his friend's voice, almost as if he's been holding this information back and was just itching to tell someone. 

"Is it that bad?" Heeseung chuckled. "You're scaring me, man."

"Promise me," Jay repeated.

"Fine," Heeseung huffed, crossing his arms. "I promise I will not tell anyone. Not a single soul."

"Okay, okay," Jay took a deep breath over the phone. Just by the sound of it, Heeseung could tell that he was about to burst if he didn't tell someone now. "So, a few weeks ago— I don't know how it slipped my mind, I was going to tell you the moment I found out— I was in Macro, and do you remember that one girl Natty, or something? The one with the bangs, like, the one that dances, and—"

"On with it!" Heeseung interrupted impatiently.

"Okay, well, Natty asked me if my friend Heedeung Lee was dating anyone, and I was like 'Who is Heedeung Lee?' so I just looked at her like she was crazy and so she never spoke to me about it again until—"

"Hurry up!" Heeseung groaned. Jay talked a lot. "Get to the point, please!"

"I'm getting there!" Jay yelled over the phone. "Well, basically Natty told me that her friend told her that [Name] [Last Name] used to have a massive crush on you."

.

.

.

"Huh?"

You, [Name] [Last Name], had a crush on him? 

On Heeseung Lee?

"I know!" Jay laughed over the phone. "That's crazy, isn't it?"

"Wait, wait, wait," Heeseung's lips moved faster than he could think. He could feel his ears burning, and they stung like hell. "Who told her?"

Jay paused to think. "Natty said that Ryujin Shin told her."

Ryujin Shin was your good friend. She wouldn't lie about something like this. Jay's source was definitely trustworthy.

Heeseung's heart was now pounding in his chest. His palms felt clammy. 

He simply couldn't process it. You? Liked him? It just didn't make sense. And after all the thoughts that he's been having about you, it didn't feel right. Something must be mistaken, right?

"When?" Heeseung blurted, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. "When did she like me?"

"Hmmm," Jay hummed. 

Surely, you liked him in elementary school, right? There was absolutely no way that you liked him any time recently. That's impossible!

"I think she liked you..." Jay trailed off, thinking, "I think she liked you all throughout highschool."

Shit.

"I mean, I think everyone knew. It's not that surprising to me, I'm more surprised that you didn't know all this time. Like, it's so obvious— she was so obvious—"

Heeseung hung up.

"Heeseung?"

Wow, has grass always been that green?

"Heeseung, what are you—"

Heeseung never knew the world could be so beautiful. The sky was so blue and the clouds were so fluffy.

"Hey, Hee—"

What's that bright ball in the sky? Why was it yellow and so warm? Is that what people call the sun—

"Heeseung!"

Heeseung was pulled out of his daze as his older brother shook his shoulders.

It's only been a few days since Jay told the news on Heeseung, but it felt like weeks. Since then, Heeseung has gone outside more times than he ever had. He'd sit in the front yard and feel the grass under his fingertips, reconnecting with nature after such a bomb was dropped on him. Other days he'd dip his toes in his pool, just basking in the sunlight, and sometimes he'd go on walks, taking time to appreciate the world around him.

After all, if Heeseung stayed all cooped up in his room, he didn't know what he would do with himself.

Truthfully, nothing has ever impacted Heeseung as much as the fact that you liked him. Genuinely, Heeseung has never felt more confused, distraught, distressed, and downright afraid in his life.

Because... How could he?

Heeseung wouldn't be completely truthful if he said he didn't think you were attractive before this summer. How could he not? There was a reason that you were popular at school. You've always been cute. It was just your personality that made Heeseung hesitant to admit it.

But to think that you— the you that always went out of your way to get on his nerves in every capacity— had a crush on him? Absolutely insane.

And the craziest part was that your crush was obvious to everyone but him. Heeseung made a point to ask all of his old friends as discreetly as possible. Same answer every time:

"Yeah man, she was soooo in love with you."

You? Obvious? With your crush on him? Absolutely not!

This was not something that Heeseung would have expected in a million years!

And the nail in the coffin was when he asked Ryujin Shin herself.

"Oh yeah, she used to make me pick out her outfits to impress you," was all Ryujin had to say in order to kill Heeseung.

It just didn't make sense! Heeseung genuinely couldn't believe it. Of all the people in the world, you had a crush on him? It's not like no one's ever had a crush on him, but it's literally you!

Every time Heeseung thought about it he felt light-headed.

Currently, Heeseung was standing under a tree, cooling off from the rising weather. He had agreed to go on a walk at the park with his older brother. After all, after everything, he needed to touch grass. 

"You've been spacy lately, Hee," his brother nudged him. Heeseung was grateful that his brother was also back from university for the summer. "Everything okay?"

"Y-Yeah..." Heeseung murmured in response. 

Wow, the dirt felt nice under his shoes. He could feel mosquitoes biting at his ankles, but the hot weather was making him too exhausted to care. He should go outside more often. Maybe he'd be less distracted. And he wouldn't think about you.

Heeseung's brother smacked the back of the younger boy's head. "You sure?"

Heeseung chewed on his bottom lip. His mind was completely fried, blank. He couldn't think.

"Hellooooo? Earth to Heeseung?"

Radio silence.

Yeah, he was cooked.

It took Heeseung an entire week to even be able to think of your name without wanting to pass out.

He didn't completely come to terms with it, but he was at a point that he'd gone over the thought too many times for it to sting anymore. Still, Heeseung couldn't stop thinking about you.

All this time you liked him and he didn't notice. Probably because you tormented him the entire time. Not quite flirting, in his opinion.

What made matters worse, though, was the fact that Heeseung would see you from time to time. It was hard.

On one hand, you were an absolute treat to look at. 

Like, wow.

Anytime he caught a glimpse of you, whether over the fence or through the kitchen window, Heeseung could physically feel his eyes get blessed.

You really were one of the most beautiful people Heeseung had ever had the privilege to lay his eyes on. He choked on his spit every time he saw you, it was insane.

On the other hand...

Ohmygodyouhadacrushonhim.

Seeing you was terrifying.

You were the one person that's always been his sworn rivalry... and this entire time you probably never saw him like that.

It was absolutely horrifying to think about!

Heeseung's cheeks felt warm at the thought. In fact, his entire body felt hot. He wasn't even sweating but his skin begged for a bucket of iced water to be poured on him. Maybe he should hose himself down later.

Maybe it was just the summer heat.

"You want me to what?!"

No, no, no!

"You heard me, young man," Heeseung's mom crossed her arms. Heeseung watched with eyes wide as saucers from his seat at the kitchen island as his mom organized the pantry. How could she be so casual?!

The world was ending. It's over.

"Nooooo," Heeseung cried, burying his face in his arms. "Mom, I can't!"

"Why not?" Mrs. Lee cocked her brows. "It's not like [Name] has a disease or anything."

Heeseung shook his head profusely. "I know, but—"

"Then what's so difficult about going over and saying hi to her? It's been an entire year since you guys have seen each other!"

Heeseung groaned.

And that's how he was forced to walk over to your house next door and say hi. He didn't know why his mom was so insistent, but it's probably because she was good friends with your mom, or something. Him and your families have always been close, so Heeseung was bound to interact with you this summer.

Heeseung dragged his feet as he walked over to your house. He really didn't want to see you.

At first, he thought you hated him, but now apparently you've liked him all this time? And he's also sexually frustrated so now Heeseung was just confused.

And lo and behold, the moment that your house came into view, there you were. 

You were in a swimsuit, sunbathing on your front lawn. You wore your chunky sunglasses that fit you too well, your pretty lips sipping on a fancy glass of coconut water.

Heeseung had to force himself to not gawk.

Goddamn, was all he could think, because goddamn were you fine.

The way the sun shone down on your skin made it hard for him to look away. You were completely relaxed, alone in your own world, yet you managed to still be glowing. Heeseung's mouth felt dry, his heart rate speeding up at the sight of you sprawled out on the lawn like that.

Heeseung's feet took him further than his mind could, too busy gaping at you. He stopped at the front of your house, just enough for you to notice him.

"Oi!" you yelled from your lawn, perching yourself up on your elbows in a way that made you even more attractive. "The fuck do you want, Lee?!"

Heeseung had to shake out of his daze. 

"H-Hey," he stuttered out, an awkward hand coming up to wave at you. Heeseung winced in his head, feeling embarrassment wash over him as you took off you looked over your sunglasses, shooting him a questioning look. 

He'd never been like this with you. Ever. The only memories that Heeseung had with you were just the two of you bickering. Never any shyness or awkwardness. So why was he so nervous now?

"Ummmm," you said. Heeseung recognized that tone: it was the tone that you used when you wanted to obnoxiously pretend to be confused to embarrass him. Usually, it would just annoy him, but this time Heeseung was actually embarrassed. "Hi?"

Heeseung could feel your judgy gaze under your sunglasses. You were definitely staring him down. Whether with love or with hate, he didn't know. But it scared the fuck out of him.

"Well, I'mgonnagonowbye!" Heeseung spouted before running off.

(Heeseung could tell that you were watching him as he struggled to get his front door open. In fact, he had to knock multiple times and yell for someone to let him in, because he was actually locked out. And the moment that he was let in, Heeseung ran up to his room, and slammed the door. Never again.)

Although you thought it would be 10x funnier if you didn't, you did in fact think Heeseung Lee was cute. Of course you did. Especially after a year of not seeing him, you couldn’t deny that he’d really grown into a man. He definitely got taller, and his voice sounded deeper too. The way the muscles on his biceps and forearms flexed when he did yard work gave you more of a reason to peek over the garden wall to say hi.

You thought your dumb little childhood crush on Heeseung had subsided by now. You felt a little bad for a while, for always being mean to him— but you just like him so much! 

When you went away for school, you were sure you’d forget all about it. After all, you had a feeling that your feelings for him were out of convenience: he was just a guy that you were close in proximity to. Plus, it was so obvious, too. He definitely knew all throughout high school and middle school how much you liked him. It would hurt your pride to go back to him.

But now that he’s back (and so are you!) you’re having second thoughts.

Sure, he was cute. 

Would you kiss him? Sure. 

Would you date him? The answer to that would be kept a secret. 

For now, you were just going to have fun with it. Whatever happened was not up to you anyway. 

Though, you’d be lying if you said that you never tried to impress him, especially now.

You told yourself it was in a condescending way. 

In a "look how hot I am" way. 

In an untouchable way.

Because you knew that he’d be looking anyway. He always did, even if he didn’t mean to.

And you knew for sure now, as you put on your fitted bikini top that he’d definitely be looking.

Lucky you, your siblings and cousins were close to Heeseung’s brother and cousins. When you were younger, everyone would gather in Heeseung’s backyard for a pool party. 

And now that it was summer, it was no surprise that there was a pool party at the Lee house today.

So here you were, in Heeseung’s backyard, dipping your toes in his pool. 

The Southern California weather was not doing anyone justice. The blue sky was clear, with no cloud in sight. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on anyone who dared to be in its presence. 

The air smelled of Mrs. Lee's lemon tree, sunscreen, chlorine water, and barbecue. Loud music boomed throughout the Lees' backyard, coupled with shouting, laughing, and the sizzle of the grill.

Everyone was here— Heeseung’s brother, his cousins, and all of your siblings and cousins— except the boy himself. 

He’s probably inside cooped up in his room, you thought with an eye roll. He always was. Whenever there was a pool party like this, he always came down the latest, after getting an earful from his mom about being a party pooper. 

You’d always hoped that he’d come down. After all, he was the only one your age, and you wanted to show off how cute you looked. 

That’s something that never changed. 

You pushed up your sunglasses, watching as the boys that you grew up with tackled each other in the water and screamed bloody murder. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

At pool parties like this, you usually found yourself sitting near the shallow side of the pool, dipping your feet in and just enjoying everyone's presence. 

Frankly, you weren't a fan of the water.

You were too busy splashing your cousins with water and laughing at how stupid they looked with their hair all wet and swooped around to notice the sound of a very familiar boy being dragged downstairs.

"Dude— Let go— Ack!" Heeseung's voice boomed all the way from behind the screen door. "Let go— Ow!"

You turned over your shoulder to see Heeseung himself standing at the entrance to the backyard, pouting like a child with his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing swim trunks, but wore an oversized t-shirt over it.

Still, he looked as good as ever.

His tan skin, disheveled hair, and overall awkward and loserish look— you loved it too much.

You watched curiously as he stood there awkwardly while everyone else played in the water. 

You sighed. Some things never change.

You pulled your feet out of the pool, before walking with wet feet over to the cooler next to the grill to grab two Caprisuns. Then, you trudged over to where Heeseung was standing.

"Look who decided to finally go outside," you said with a deadpan tone. Usually, Heeseung would glare at you, maybe scoff and look away. But this time, his eyes just shakily shifted to your face. Weird.

You could see his eyes widen a fraction, before they traveled down to your bikini top. You had to hold back a smug grin— Good, he was looking.

You shoved one of the Caprisuns into his hand, while stabbing your own with the straw. 

He still stared at you, as if you were some kind of unicorn.

"Why do you keep staring?" you asked bluntly, quirking your brow at him. It was weird. Where was the annoyed Heeseung that fought back whenever you bothered him?

The boy tensed up, his eyes widening into saucers before he turned away from you altogether. 

Was he... sick?

You looked at him questioningly. Heeseung stood completely still, his back turned to you, gripping onto his Caprisun for dear life.

You sighed. You nudged him with your elbow. 

"I thought a school like UCSD would make you at least a little bit cooler," you began your way back to the pool, but stopped. You looked over your shoulder at him. "Still a loser."

And with that, you left him standing there.

Heeseung swore that he's not a loser.

Well, maybe he was just a little bit of a loser, but not that much. You called him a loser all the time, and it never really got to him. After all, you were cooler than anyone Heeseung knew, so your standard of coolness was off the charts.

Though, it did bother him a little bit this time. And for the life of him, Heeseung couldn't figure out why.

Eventually, he trudged over to the pool and dipped his feet in beside you. Though, he made sure to keep a big distance between the two of you. 

Heeseung didn't know what he would do if he was any closer to you. And plus, you'd probably start screaming anyway.

In fourth grade, he pushed you into the pool as a joke, without knowing that you didn't know how to swim. Since then, you made it a point to scream whenever Heeseung was near you at the pool, always claiming that he'd pose a danger to you, or something like that.

The music was nice, and so was the feeling of the sun on his skin. Heeseung just felt a little bit out of place, but he wasn't unhappy to be there.

Heeseung was lost in thought, a habit that he's had since he was younger— so lost that he didn't hear the splashing of the pool, so lost didn't hear his brother ask you why you weren't swimming, so lost that he didn't hear his cousins threaten to push you in if you didn't get in yourself.

But the moment that Heeseung heard your shrill scream, he was up on his feet.

In a few quick seconds, Heeseung's brother had hauled you up over his shoulder, ignoring the way that you wriggled in his touch, and threw you into the pool. 

It all happened so quickly before Heeseung's eyes, yet it felt like time slowed down.

As the water splashed in what felt like slow-motion, Heeseung watched as your eyes widened into large saucers, a loud shriek ripping from your throat. His breath hitched. Other than those sounds, he couldn't hear anything else: not everyone laughing, not the music, not the grilling, just you and him and the water.

Heeseung's lips moved faster than him.

"You idiot!" he shouted, and although his entire body felt like it was frozen in time, he was already halfway through throwing his t-shirt off. Heeseung tuned out the sound of more laughter. He could feel his blood boil. "She can't swim!"

With no hesitation, Heeseung dove into the pool, ignoring the cold sensation that sent goosebumps down his spine as the water engulfed him. 

There were some things that cannot be forgotten, and something that Heeseung knew he'd never forget was the way you wrapped your arms around him the moment that you felt his presence. Your once tense body relaxed immediately. You clung onto him, your eyes squeezed shut as stray tears spilled out. He could hear the raggedness of your breath, and just by your face, Heeseung couldn't even imagine the panic and fear that you'd felt. 

"Heeseung," you whimpered, grasping the boy as if you would die. You sniffled, pressing your face into his neck as your arms tightened around his torso. "Hee—"

Heeseung could feel chlorine water droplets slipping into his eyes, burning them. Yet, he didn't remove his hands from around you, not even once. As he stabilized the two of you in the water, he squeezed your shoulders comfortingly.

"You're safe," he said against your ear, "I got you."

The last thing you expected to happen was to be sitting on Heeseung Lee's bed.

He still had his shelf full of comic books and figurines. Except, the last time you really took a look at the shelf was when you were 13, and now six years later it was completely filled to the brim. The walls were still covered in superhero posters. In the corner of his room, there used to be a tiny little ukelele from when he was just learning how to play, but now it was replaced with a guitar.

You shivered, pulling your knees to your chest as you sniffled, holding the towel draped over your shoulders tightly. Your skin felt cold to the touch, but on the inside, you felt like you were burning up. Hot tears lined your eyes, threatening to stream out.

After that fiasco, Heeseung took you upstairs to his room. He left you a few moments ago to find you clean clothes.

You were angry. Why did they throw you in the pool? You thought it was common knowledge that you couldn't swim. You grew up with these people! How did Heeseung Lee remember and not anyone else? How annoying.

"Uh," Heeseung cracked his bedroom door open, poking his head in. You cocked a brow at him, especially when you noticed that he came back empty handed. "Just— Give me a second."

You watched as he went to his own drawers, taking out his own clothes.

"I— There's no girls living in his house," he said sheepishly as he handed you his clothes, unable to hide his red ears. "I couldn't find you— uh— girl clothes, so just— just take mine."

You just frowned.

Although you didn't do any swimming yourself, being thrown into a pool and drowning for a few moments was physically taxing enough. You didn't feel like moving right now, even if it was something as easy as changing clothes. You just put the clothes beside you on the bed, muttering a quiet thanks before pulling your knees even closer to your chest.

Heeseung stared at you. It was uncharacteristic to see you so... small. Someone so bothersome and mean to him, yet here you were curled up like you didn't want to be seen.

Heeseung would never admit it, but he felt bad for you at that moment.

Heeseung sighed.

He took a few more steps forward, standing in front of the bed.

"Scoot over," he said, motioning with his hands.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes. Your lips jutted out for a few seconds into a pout, but you huffed and nodded. Heeseung plopped down beside you, letting out another sigh. 

The two of you sat in silence like that for a few moments, both staring at the floor. In the distance you could still hear water splashing and music from the backyard.

"Thanks, by the way" you murmured, breaking the silence. You kept your eyes down.

"Huh?" Heeseung whipped his head over to you.

"I said thanks," you repeated yourself, this time louder and with annoyance. "You loser."

"Oh." Heeseung blinked. "Sorry."

It was silent again, before you clicked your tongue. You nudge Heeseung with your foot. 

"Why are you apologizing?" you sounded irritated, but Heeseung knew that that was just your natural tone when you weren't trying to be nice all the time. 

"I dunno," the boy shrugged. "I guess for being a loser."

You sighed loudly, your brows furrowing as you nudged him again. 

"You're taking me too seriously," you rubbed your temples. "I mean, you are a loser, but I don't really give a fuck if you are."

Heeseung blinked. "Huh?"

You groaned. "You're so dense. My point is, you have nothing to apologize for, including for being thick in the head and a loser."

.

.

.

"As a matter of fact," you grumbled. "I'm grateful for you. I'd be six feet under if it wasn't for you."

.

.

.

You finally turned to look at Heeseung. Your hand came up to flick his forehead.

"Ow!" Heeseung cried, his hand shooting up for his head. "What was that for— Ack!"

You grabbed a pillow and smacked him square in the head.

"What the hell?!" Heeseung yelled. He reached across you to grab one of his pillows, launching it at you, hitting you in the face.

But instead of fighting back like Heeseung expected, you threw your head back, falling back onto the bed. You were laughing.

"What are you—" Heeseung scrunched his face, before he grabbed another pillow and smacked you again. "What are you laughing at?"

You didn't respond, only continuing to laugh. Heeseung watched as you clutched your stomach, your eyes squeezing together as your lips parted, airy giggles pouring out.

His ears burned. Did he say something funny?

Had Heeseung ever seen you laugh so... light-heartedly? It seemed like the only times you'd laugh was when you were making fun of him. But here you were, laughing like he'd just said the funniest thing.

"Sorry," you said when you finally calmed down. You relaxed into his pillows, letting out a soft ah. You wiped your eyes, which had tears coming out from how hard you laughed. "It's just..." you glanced at him, "You were scaring me."

"Why?" Heeseung's brows furrowed. 

"You were, like, being so awkward," you said coolly. "I mean, you're always awkward, but you were being awkward in a weird, shy way. You weren't fighting back like you usually did."

You flashed him a cheeky grin. "But you seem to be back to normal now."

Heeseung stared at your face. 

Well, even if you were super hot now, and even if you had a crush on him, nothing would change the fact that the two of you were (no matter how much you didn't want to admit it) childhood friends. Heeseung wouldn't want anything to come between that. Even his own awkwardness. There was no use being weird about anything.

Maybe this summer was for the two of you to finally connect, rather than push each other away.

"Ew," you kicked Heeseung, "Stop staring, you freak."

Heeseung rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "Go change."

Truthfully, it was impossible to be awkward like this around you. Heeseung was awkward with everyone, including his own mother sometimes, but not you.

(By the end of the pool party, you and Heeseung had spent most of the time up in his room, which wasn't uncommon throughout your childhood. Though, the difference now was that you and him weren't arguing.)

Normally, on summer mornings, Heeseung slept until noon. But his slumber this morning was rudely interrupted by the sound of someone banging on his door.

"What the fuck?" Heeseung cursed under his breath as he trudged downstairs, still shirtless and groggy in his Minecraft pajama pants. He'd curse at his brother for not answering the door, but Heeseung remembered that everyone else in his family had a life that didn't include being home all day, unlike him. 

Heeseung hastily opened the front door, ready to yell at whoever was disrupting him at this time. It was probably one of those solicitors trying to sell him something, or some kid that accidentally threw a ball into his yard.

But when he opened the door...

"Hi, loser."

Heeseung slammed the door.

What the hell were you doing at his house at this time?! Granted, it was almost 11AM, but still!

"What the fuck?!" you began banging again, "Open up!"

"No!" Heeseung yelled from the other side of the door. "What are you doing here?!"

"Well, open up and I'll tell you!"

After this back and forth for a few minutes, Heeseung finally agreed on letting you in.

"Rude," you muttered, crossing your arms. "Didn't your mother teach you to not slam the door on people's faces?"

Heeseung grabbed the door, beginning to close it again. You jammed your foot inside. "Not so fast, little boy."

Heeseung rolled his eyes. "Explain."

You huffed. "I'm bored. Can we hang out?"

.

.

.

"What? Why?"

You pushed past the boy, stepping inside his house and making your way to the kitchen.

"I already said," you said coolly. "I'm bored."

Heeseung trailed after you. "It's too early!"

You shrugged, making a bee-line for the fridge, looking through it. Heeseung sighed. There was no reckoning with you. He took a seat at the kitchen island, letting out an annoyed groan.

You looked over your shoulder, quirking your brow at him. 

"Nice pajamas, by the way."

It was now that Heeseung realized that he was half naked with messy hair and his embarrassing Minecraft PJ pants.

His ears burned.

"I thought you were done with Minecraft," Heeseung could hear the teasing tone in your voice as a sly grin spread across your lips. "I guess some things just never change."

"Shut— Shut up!" And he scurried upstairs to freshen up and change. You chuckled.

Apparently, your definition of "hanging out" was gossiping in your car while devouring frozen yogurt.

"Why are you so surprised?" you asked, while indiscreetly stealing a strawberry from Heeseung's frozen yogurt.

"I dunno," he shrugged. "I just thought you'd have more extravagant plans for what a 'hang out' is."

You scoffed. "Like what?"

"I don't know!" Heeseung shook his head. "Maybe, like, going to the beach? Or going to the movies? What do cool people do these days?"

"Why would you think that?" you almost looked offended. 

"You were popular in high school, weren't you?" Heeseung reasoned. "I assumed that your hangouts were cool because everyone wanted to be there."

You scowled. "Okay, well, getting frozen yogurt is cool. I don't know what you're talking about." Heeseung shrugged again. "And plus, I chose this activity because I knew you wouldn't like the beach or movies."

Heeseung blinked. Did you really do that for him?

"Why are you looking at me like I killed someone?" you rolled your eyes. "Why would I hang out with you and only do stuff that I'd enjoy? It's not fun when the other person isn't having fun, you know."

"I—I know," Heeseung stammered. The corner of his lips lifted a little bit. "I just can't believe you have feelings."

An offended sound came out of your lips. You slapped his shoulder, once, twice, three times, ignoring his yelps.

"I'm sorryyyyy!" Heeseung cried, squirming away from you. "Ack! What is your problem, dude— Ow! I said I'm sorry!"

"Take that back, you freak!"

"I did...!"

Heeseung never thought that he'd wake up on some mornings and see you in his kitchen, scouring his pantry and fridge for food. 

At first, Heeseung found himself panicking every time he inevitably trekked downstairs, all groggy and shirtless, at noon and you were there munching on cereal.

"Why— What are you—" Heeseung would stare at you horrified, immediately feeling shy because he was shirtless. How could you be so... so casual?! "How did you even get in?!"

You'd just shrug nonchalantly, ignoring Heeseung's spluttering. 

"I asked your mom for an extra key," you had pulled out of your pocket. "See?"

And ever since then, it wasn't common for Heeseung to hear the front door cracking open, followed by the sound of rustling in the kitchen and living room.

Initially, Heeseung made a point to freshen up before clambering down to give you an earful for turning the TV's volume too high. He made sure to throw on a shirt, maybe brush his hair and teeth and wash his face. 

But the moment that Heeseung no longer relied on his biological clock and his alarm clock to wake him up because the ruckus that you'd make in his kitchen was loud enough to shake him out of his slumber, he realized that there was really no escaping you.

"Turn it down, will you?!" Heeseung would shout from upstairs, barely awake. You'd groan, but you'd comply. After all, it was his house that you were raiding.

It was weird. Heeseung never thought that he'd become comfortable with you like this, and in such a short amount of time. There was a level of friendship between the two of you no matter what. You'd grown up together, that was undeniable.

But Heeseung had always expected you and him to actually become friends through other means. He'd always thought that something bigger, more dramatic, would happen, something that would force the two of you to finally get along.

But all it took was for you to be bored one day and go to his house.

Had he been misinterpreting everything? All this time, Heeseung always thought that there was a wall around you, something that he couldn't break down. Yet here he was now, minding his own business while you ate at his kitchen island.

It made him think, was it college and summertime that made the two of you like this? Or has it always been like this, and he never noticed it?

It made him think back to his childhood.

He had so many distinct memories of you.

You pushing him down the slide, you calling him stupid, you pulling his hair when you were bored.

But there were also other memories, ones that Heeseung had to think hard about, ones that made him question whether or not his memory was playing tricks on him.

He could remember you following him upstairs after one of your families' dinners when you guys were six years-old. 

If there was something six year-old Heeseung and you could agree on, it was that the adults' conversations at dinner were too boring and convoluted to follow. 

Heeseung faintly remembered the way you paused briefly in front of the shelf in the corner of his room. It was the shelf that he displayed his comic books and superhero figurines on, a collection that he'd spent all of his allowance money on. 

Heeseung had ignored you as you messed around with his stuffed animals, opting to read his comic books in silence. You had crawled up beside him, your squeaky voice pulling Heeseung's head out of the pages.

"What's that?" you had asked him.

Heeseung's teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He remembered what happened after you asked that clearly.

"A comic book," young Heeseung had said annoyedly, shooting you a glare. "Duh."

Heeseung could distinctly remember how he felt at that moment. Embarrassment. His brother, his brother's friends, and Heeseung's own friends liked to tease him for his nerdy interests.

Six year-old you didn't take the hint, only further poking and prying him. Your fingers plucked one of the pages, curiously looking at the screen-toned pages and text bubbles. "What's it about?"

Heeseung had snatched the comic book from you, so hard that the page you were gripping ripped. His memory was fuzzy here, but from what he could recall, Heeseung got angry and yelled at you. He had pushed you, making you bump into his figurine shelf. One of his bigger and sharper figurines managed to knock over, falling and hitting your square in the face.

It was nothing serious, just a scratch, but you were crying by the end of it.

As an adult, Heeseung cringed at the memory.

Poor, awkward six year-old Heeseung, who thought you were making fun of him when really you were just interested.

And after that, you never asked him about his superhero comics again.

As Heeseung now peered at you scrolling through movies to watch, he couldn't help but notice how you hovered over all the superhero movies, before moving past them. He wondered how different things would have been if he didn't yell at you that day. In fact, he wondered how different things would have been if he didn't yell at you at all.

Because now that Heeseung thought about it, all of his memories of you annoying him were really just you wanting to talk to him. When you slapped his shoulder and called him stupid, it wasn't you trying to be mean to him. You were just like that.

Had he taken everything wrong all this time?

First, it started with you eating in his kitchen everyday.

The next thing Heeseung knew, you were forcing him to go outside everyday, one way or another. This must be the most sunlight that Heeseung has ever had in his entire life.

On some days, you wanted to go on walks around the neighborhood.

"Do you remember that house?" you asked him once, pointing to the house at the end of the block. 

Heeseung's lips lifted. "Of course I do. How could I forget?"

You chuckled. "Hell-bound dogs, right?"

Heeseung could remember the day. When you and him were ten years-old, you went trick-or-treating down the neighborhood. The house at the end of the block was new to the neighborhood, so the two of you kids had no clue what your new neighbor was like.

Big mistake. That year, Heeseung was dressed as a demon with a plastic demonic mask, while you were a witch.

The two of you had no idea that your neighbor would be so... afraid... of two children dressed as a demon and as a witch. 

As fast as you rang that doorbell, chanting trick or treat!, the two of you were sent running back home at full speed, with a shouting neighbor threatening to call the police on you "hell-bound dogs." And that's how that neighbor earned the name Ms. Hell-Bound Dogs.

Poor you.

"Do you think she's still alive?" you grinned cheekily, nudging the boy.

"Who?"

"You know..." you drawled your syllables, "Ms. Hell-Bound Dogs."

Heeseung scoffed. "Of course she is!"

"But it's been nine years!" you shrugged. "You don't know what happens in nine years."

"She wasn't that old," Heeseung reasoned. You sent him a look. The both of you collectively recalled that neighbor being a hag. "Okay, maybe we were just young, so everyone looked old to us."

You hummed. "You're right."

As the two of you approached that house, preparing to pass it, you were engulfed with silence. The neighborhood that you grew up in held so many memories. 

You and Heeseung had spent the entire walk pointing to various houses and obscure things in the neighborhood, recalling old stories of memories of the shenanigans that the two of you would have with them. Heeseung couldn't remember the last time he laughed like this. It wasn't the type of laugh that made him fall to his knees and well up tears in his eyes.

It was more like a laugh that felt mixed with a sob. In a weird way. Each laugh that tumbled from his lips felt so foreign, yet so familiar. 

The type of laugh that could only be elicited by an old friend.

And it was then that Heeseung realized that that's what you were to him. An old friend.

"I dare you to knock on Ms. Hell-Bound Dogs," you said suddenly. You loved to do this, even when you were a kid.

"No," Heeseung shook his head, hiding a chuckle. "I am not doing that."

"C'mon," you nudged him again. "It'll be fun."

Heeseung narrowed his eyes.

"And we'll get to know if she's still alive."

Heeseung looked at Ms. Hell-Bound Dogs' door.

He was curious.

And besides, it would be payback for chasing you two out all those years ago.

Heeseung sighed.

"Fine."

It couldn't be that bad, right? Heeseung and you were older now. You wouldn't be afraid of some old lady. Right?

Wrong.

Because the next thing Heeseung knew, you were carrying him princess style, running as fast as you could down the street. The both of you were cursing at the top of your lungs, shrieking for your dear lives. Heeseung's large body awkwardly draped into your arms, his arms clumsily around your neck, but the two of you were too scared shitless to care.

The moment that you reached the comforts of the Lee house, Heeseung and you caught your breath, keeling over.

After a few moments of just breathing, the two of you made eye-contact. 

At first, you just stared at each other, wondering what the fuck just happened.

But then a smile began to spread on your lips, then on Heeseung's lips, and suddenly the two of you were laughing. Laughing so hard that your stomachs hurt.

"She's way scarier than I remember!" you cried, clutching your stomach as you gripped Heeseung's shoulder for stability. 

"I— I know!" Heeseung laughed. He wiped away his tears, shoving his face in his hands. "I can't believe we just did that!"

And the second thing that Heeseung realized that day was that you, too, were a loser. 

"What’s got you smiling at your phone, Hee?" Heeseung’s dad asked him in the car one afternoon. The Lees had a short weekend getaway, and they were now on their way back. It was no denying that Heeseung had been on his phone much more than he usually was.

"Yeah," his brother nodded in agreement. "You've been texting a lot these days."

Heeseung's mother gasped. "You didn't get a girlfriend, did you?"

The whole car erupted, the tires of the Lee car skrrting against the wheels abruptly. His dad and brother whooped, while his mother excitedly squealed.

..... Except Heeseung heard none of this.

Because he had his earphones jammed in his ears, completely absent as he stared at the window.

The offense?

Heeseung was busy blasting your summer playlist.

Look, it wasn't because he liked you or anything. It was just that your summer playlist had all the songs that he liked! Maybe except a few...

The other day when Heeseung found himself in the passenger seat of your car chowing down on fast food, the two of you talked about music. Surprisingly, you had a lot in common in terms of music taste.

You guys ended up riding along the coastal highway late into the night, just sharing songs.

Heeseung remembered how the traffic lights reflected off your face, illuminating your pretty eyes. You chuckled at a few songs that came up.

"You know," you had smiled, but your brows furrowed, "Kai sent me this song when we were dating Sophomore Year."

And when another song came up, you furrowed your brows again. "I think EJ sent me this one when we were dating."

And again. "Oh! When I was dating..."

And for some reason, Heeseung couldn't bring himself to listen to any of the songs that your high school exes sent you. It could've been his favorite song, but for some reason, any association with your past lovers made Heeseung feel sick.

Heeseung couldn't figure out why he was so bothered. There were songs that he swore he could never hate, but it left such a bitter taste in his mouth that another man sent you songs.

Now, Heeseung's nose curled as he glanced at the song now playing.

I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys. Everyone knew this song, so it shouldn't be a surprise that one of your exes sent you this. But still. Heeseung felt uneasy listening to it. He couldn't figure out why. It was such a weird feeling. His heart felt like it was throbbing in his chest, tightening at the thought of it.

By now, Heeseung was certain that Jay's earlier report about you having a crush on him was outdated. It's been a while since Heeseung's thought about it, and while it still made him burn up, he was convinced that even if you did like him, that was the past. There was no use in dwelling on it anymore.

His finger hovered over the skip button for a few moments, taking in the sound of the rough bass. 

Heeseung didn't know why he felt a sense of disappointment. Disappointed that you probably didn't like him like that anymore. 

Skip.

Sooo... you're not very successful at forgetting your mini crush on Heeseung. You swore that you could, especially because you thought you'd grown up.

But now as you watch the way Heeseung's big hands wrapped around the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road while your collaborative playlist plays on repeat, you're finding it difficult to pull your eyes away from him.

He was just so... loserish. He was so awkward, and clumsy, and embarrassing, yet somehow every time you saw his grimace after he tripped over his feet yet again, it made you feel so warm.

One of your old highschool friends was throwing a party at her beach house, and you were invited. You didn't want to go alone, so you begged Heeseung to go with you. And after some hefty convincing, he finally agreed.

The two of you (mostly you) had spent the entire afternoon getting ready.

You made sure to put on your tiniest dress and tallest heels, glittery makeup across your face and curly lashes lining your eyes. 

As you fixed your lipgloss in Heeseung's rearview mirror, you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

You had to sit Heeseung down and give him a lesson in fashion. He was really about to go to a party in a hoodie. His entire closet consisted of baggy t-shirts and hoodies, and while they looked damn good on him, he needed proper party attire.

You searched through his entire closet, and lo and behold, you found the compression shirt that Heeseung borrowed from his brother and never returned. 

You couldn't stop looking at the veins on his forearms, or the biceps on his arms that flexed everytime he gripped the steering wheel. You knew Heeseung worked out, but seeing his toned arms in the flesh made your cheeks feel warm.

Under his big doe eyes, pouty lips, and disheveled hair was a man.

It was hard to fully conceptualize sometimes— that you were no longer the squeaky teenage girl head over heels for your nerdy childhood friend. Instead, you were a woman, and so was he.

Heeseung's eyes fluttered over to you, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as the two of you pulled up to the house.

"I don't think I know anybody here," Heeseung sighed, wringing his fingers nervously. As the two of you got out of his car and approached the door, he groaned, "It's gonna be so awkward."

"Relax," you grinned at him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "Just stick beside me the entire time."

He chewed on his bottom lip. He was uneasy. You sighed, linking your fingers with his. His eyes widened into saucers, but you ignored it. You gave his hand a squeeze. 

"You're gonna be fine," you reassured, before dragging him into the party, hand-in-hand.

The moment that you stepped inside the beach house, you could feel Heeseung tense up, squeezing your hand. 

You couldn't blame him, for the bright strobe lights, booming music, and smell of sweat, alcohol, and drugs hit your senses immediately.

"Just follow me," you whispered to him. You shot him another smile. "C'mon. Let's get some drinks."

And despite what everyone liked to think, you were a law-abiding citizen. You were not about to get wasted, and you were under the drinking age anyway. You got yourself orange juice and Heeseung apple juice (something that you knew he'd like because you used to argue about it).

You found it a bit entertaining as you went around the house, saying hi to all of your old classmates and friends, while Heeseung followed you like a lost puppy. You had him hold you by the shoulders, finding it awfully endearing every time he squeezed them.

"I thought you hated her," he whispered into your ear after you just greeted someone, striking up an animated conversation with her. 

"I do," you chuckled. Of course Heeseung would remember. "She's why me and Taehyun broke up."

You heard Heeseung's breath hitch, a gasp in his throat. "Really? That's fucked."

You chuckled again. So cute. "I know."

Every time you encountered someone that Heeseung personally disliked, you could feel him gripping your shoulders. It was cute. 

"Is that Heeseung Lee?!" a squeaky voice suddenly filled you and Heeseung's ears. And the next thing you knew, Heeseung was being crowded around by a group of girls, leading him to be whisked away from you. You couldn't remember any of their names, but you definitely remembered who they were.

When you said that Heeseung was a loser, you meant it in an endearing, mean-but-not-really way. 

These girls were actual bullies in high school, and for a time, they'd bully Heeseung. If it weren't for you scaring them off everytime, Heeseung might be dead.

But there they were, crowding around and cooing at Heeseung, touching his arms and batting their eyelashes at them as if they didn't bully the shit out of him. 

"I didn't know you got so hot, Hee!"

"If I knew you'd be so strong, I would've fucked you in high school."

"What're you doing after this, Heeseung?"

You could sense Heeseung's discomfort. From the way that he recoiled from each touch, to the way his wide eyes occasionally met yours, to the way that his lips curled.

And it made your blood boil.

Not only were these the people that went out of their way to hurt him, here they were acting like Heeseung would forget just because they thought he was hot. Blatantly disrespectful.

Help me, his eyes read. And of course you did.

You marched over to where they were, creeping up behind Heeseung and grabbing his shoulder and yanking him backward away from the hoard. 

"Get behind me," you whispered to him, and Heeseung immediately complied. 

"Hi, guys!" you greeted with a tight-lipped smile. You could feel Heeseung's fingers playing with the lacing at the back of your dress, something he did when he was nervous.

"[Name]!" the girls exclaimed, but you could tell that they were unhappy with your presence. "We were just talking to ourHee."

"Oh!" You faked excitement, flashing them another smile. You narrowed your eyes at them, before reaching behind you to grab Heeseung's wrist. "Well, me and Heeseung were about to leave just now."

"Aww!" one of them whined, yet she still managed to bat her eyelashes at Heeseung, who shifted uncomfortably. 

"C'mon, [Name]!" another crossed her arms. You could tell that her tone was playful, but you knew better. "You got all the hot guys during high school. Let us have this one, won't you?"

You feigned a giggle. 

"No, sorry girl," you said in a chirpy tone. You didn't want to seem hostile. "This one's mine."

The girls blinked at you. "Yours?"

"Mhm!" you smiled again. You squeezed Heeseung's hand in yours, bringing it up to show them your interlocked fingers. "Right, Babe?"

Heeseung stared at you for a few moments, before nodding his head quickly, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. "O-Of course, baby."

You craned your neck up to gently press a kiss on his neck, ignoring his surprised yelp, before you turned back to the girls. "We'll be leaving now. It was nice seeing you!"

And with that, you pushed through the crowd of people, making a bee-line for the door and taking Heeseung with you.

The walk back to Heeseung’s car was silent. When the two of you got inside, it was still silent. Heeseung didn't start the engine or the music. He just sat there quietly.

"I'm sorry," he finally blurted.

"Huh?" you cocked your head. "What are you sorry about?"

"I feel like I ruined the night," Heeseung murmured, a large frown on his lips.

"What?!" you furrowed your brows, reaching out to touch his arm. "No, no, no! You didn't ruin anything."

He continued to frown. The car shook just from how loud the music was, and you could feel the bass in your chest. 

"And you had to kiss me!" he continued, shoving his face into his hands.

You furrowed your brow. Did he not like it? Was he disgusted with you?

"You shouldn't have!" Heeseung continued rambling on, using his hands. Poor boy sniffled, and it was then that you noticed the way his doe eyes welled with tears. From the way he blinked quickly while turning away from you so that you couldn't see his face told you everything. "Now everyone is going to think that you're dating me!"

You were a little hurt. "Why is that a bad thing?"

"It's a bad thing for you," Heeseung muttered into his palms, sniffling quietly. "I'm a loser, [Name]. And you're not. What if everyone starts seeing you differently?"

Your hand ghosted over his shoulder. "Why should anyone's opinion matter to me?"

"Because!" Heeseung whipped his head over to you. With the sun setting, orange light reflected off his cheeks and red nose, as well as his glassy eyes. 

"Because....." he sighed, before stopping. "What, you don't regret it?"

You crossed your arms. 

"The only reason I'd regret kissing you is if you felt uncomfortable." You met his eyes. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

Heeseung stared at you for a few times, before he whipped his head away again. But this time, it wasn't out of shame or remorse. You could tell by his shaky voice, pink ears, and rigid body language that he was embarrassed more than anything.

"No..." he mumbled. "The k-kiss... didn't make me uncomfortable. I actually kind of— Never mind."

If you hadn't known him all your life, you wouldn't have been able to tell that Heeseung was flustered. Flustered beyond reason. If you asked him a question about superhero comics, a topic that he knew front and back, he still wouldn't be able to give a coherent answer. That was how flustered he was.

How cute.

"Hmm?" you hummed, the corners of your lips raising. "Complete that thought."

Heeseung groaned something that you couldn't understand, shoving his face back into his palms. You chuckled as you pulled him away from his hands, gently clutching his jaw and forcing him to look at you.

"I wanna know what you were going to say, Heeseung," you rasped, unable to hide the slyness in your voice.

He let out an embarrassed squeak. Even if it weren't for the orange sunlight, you would still be able to tell how red Heeseung got. The warmth emitting from his face was so strong that you could feel it. Poor boy couldn't even look you in the eye.

So cute.

"I-I..."

You hummed. "Go on."

"I was just going to say..." Heeseung squeezes his eyes shut, something he did when he was so embarrassed that he'd explode. "I l-liked the kiss."

.

.

.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he continued to ramble on. "I-I mean I didn't mind it that much. Itwasjustnicewhenitcamefromyouanditmademefeelreallywarmandmushyand—"

"Let's get out of here, Heeseung," you interrupted him with a reassuring smile. "We can go somewhere else."

"L-Like where?"

You grinned.

Where it all began.

"The playground?"

Heeseung gaped as you pulled him out of the car. He let you drive this time, fully expecting to go somewhere like the pier or the end of some road where it was quiet. Not the playground.

"Yessir."

The playground near your neighborhood was nothing special. It had a spiral slide, swings, rock-climbing, telephone, a basketball court, hopscotch, and then some. It looked much smaller than you and Heeseung remembered.

This was where it all started, where you and Heeseung met as young children.

Things have changed since then. The swing set has been remodeled, the sandbox removed, and the railing have been repainted with a different color from your childhood.

"C'mon," you tugged on Heeseung's arm.

Heeseung stared at you. By now the sky was beginning to turn blue and the streetlamps were on. Even so, you still managed to glow. All his life, you glowed. You glowed so bright that you outshined him, so bright that you attracted everyone like a moth to a flame, and he never understood why.

But now he did.

The mischievous glint in your eyes, the grin spread across your face, and the way you called out to him to go play— it was like nothing changed. You were still you, still the cheeky little shithead that you always were. And he loved it. He loved you. Maybe he always had.

Some things really never changed. 

"Heeseung, push meeeeeee!" you shouted from across the playground. As a kid, Heeseung loved to collect rocks. As a grown-up he thought it was ridiculous, but now Heeseung couldn't resist the call of the rocks. 

Meanwhile, you were on the swings.

"You still don't know how to do it yourself?!" Heeseung yelled back. 

"I doooon't!"

Heeseung sighed, shoving the rocks that he collected into his pockets before trudging over to you. Though, not without chuckling to himself.

After running around the playground a little bit and taking a trip down memory lane and whatnot, you followed Heeseung to the basketball courts. In your middle school days, you remembered how Heeseung would ditch you at the swings to go play basketball.

You sat next to the base of the hoop, just far enough to not get hit.

You watched in awe as Heeseung dribbled the ball, passing the orangey ball from palm to palm. He was always good at basketball. You remember pressuring him in highschool to try out for the school team. And when he made it, nothing made you feel giddier than seeing the proud and excited look on his face. That's why you went to all of his games in secret, just to silently cheer him on. Of course, you'd never let him know that.

With each flick of his wrist to shoot the ball, you couldn't hide your amazement as he made every basket.

Every.

Single.

One.

Tall, strong, talented, and a loser.

Gosh, you wanted him so bad.

Him and his nerdy little antics.

On Heeseung's end, he made sure to play his best.

Sure, he was in his childhood basketball court. Sure, he wasn't playing against anyone else. But that was exactly why he had to do his best.

You were watching.

He'd never forget how you ran up to him after seeing him hoop one afternoon, exclaiming, "You need to try out for the basketball team!"

Back then, he thought you were being mean, but your words rang through his head enough that he actually did try out for the team. And he made it.

Now that he was an adult, Heeseung realized that you were anything but mean. If anything, you were encouraging him. 

And now that you were watching him play all these years later, Heeseung had to prove to you that your words were not in vain.

"Woooooow," you drew out your syllables as you watched, silently clapping your hands at each basket. 

Heeseung chuckled, jogging up to where you were. Letting the basketball roll across the court, Heeseung crouched down to your sitting figure, wiped the sweat on his forehead with the back of his palm.

"You're so good at basketball, Heeseung," you said coolly, trying your best to hide the fact that you were 100% gawking at him and his sweaty face.

Heeseung laughed as he caught his breath. The smell of the night air was making him feel so alive, so bold.

"All thanks to you," he breathed as he ran a hand through his sweaty hair. 

"Nah," you waved him off. "You're giving me too much credit. It's all because of your hard work."

Heeseung shook his head, lightly punching your arm. "It's your support that made me so good."

You shook your head. "Not at all."

The boy gave you a look, quirking his brow, almost like he was doubting you. "You think I never noticed you at my games?"

.

.

.

Shit.

"Y-You knew I was at your games?!" 

He knew all this time?!

!!!

Warmth washed over you.

All those times you screamed his name from across the court to cheer his name, all those times you snuck, all those times you jabbed at him for playing too much even though you spent too much time at his games.

Your cheeks felt warm as your hands found refuge on your head, shaking as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"No, no, no!" you cried. "That's so embarrassing!"

Heeseung's deep laugh made you even more embarrassed, especially the way he cooed at you and put a hand on your knee reassuringly.

"Of course I knew you were there," Heeseung said, putting a hand on his chin. "I knew it every single time. I don't think you missed any of my games."

You squeezed your eyes shut even harder, groaning. "Stooooop."

Heeseung laughed again, before clicking his tongue. He got back up and strolled toward the stray basketball.

You didn't know why, but his nonchalance and ease at picking up the ball made your heart pound. He was just so... strong.

Sure, he was a loser most of the time, but on the court, he was a completely different person.

As Heeseung began to dribble again, you had to admit that it was attractive.

With one more bounce, Heeseung snapped his head at you, meeting your eyes. 

"This one's for you."

Your heart drummed in your chest. This was the type of stuff that happened in movies, when the basketball player dedicates a hoop for their loved one. How were you a grown woman and still feeling giddy and nervous over this?

It felt like it happened in slow motion. 

You watched as the ball seemingly floated between his fingertips. The sound of the rubber ball as it collided with the concrete courts filled your ears, coupled by the sound of your heart pounding in your chest. 

Heeseung's tongue swiped over his bottom lip. With a flick of the wrist and a jump, he shot the ball up into the air. 

It stayed up in the air for what felt like an eternity, before it propelled forward.

There it was, its orange skin against the blue night sky.

And as gravity pulled it toward Earth, you held your breath.

Closer and closer, the ball inched toward the red-brimmed hoop.

And just as you held your breath...

The ball...

Missed.

.

.

.

You deadpanned.

Heeseung was going to dedicate a ball to you... and he missed the hoop completely.

That's...

So cute.

You snorted, before you keeled over, some of the hardest laughs of your entire light spilling out of your mouth. This was hysterical. You laughed so hard that your stomach hurt.

Heeseung was such a loser, and it made you feel like a little girl.

Meanwhile, Heeseung stood there, completely red in the face.

"Sh-Shut up!" he grumbled as you laughed. How embarrassing!

When you finally calmed down, you had to hold yourself back from cooing at how cute Heeseung's embarrassed face was. But you just look at him with a grin. 

"Try again."

And he did.

And it felt like suddenly the world was against him.

Just a few minutes ago, Heeseung made every single one of his shots.

And now that it actually mattered, he missed.

Every.

Single.

One.

And to make things worse, you laughed at every one of his missed shots.

"Heeseung Lee," you announced as he gave up, taking a seat beside you. "You are such a loser."

He groaned, pulling his knees to his chest. 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the grasshoppers sing their hearts out. 

Neither of you wanted to move. Because if you did, it would mean one step closer to this night ending. Of course, there was always tomorrow and the rest of the summer to see each other, but to be separated even for a little bit as night passes was too long.

It felt like so much had changed, but at the same time, it felt like everything was exactly as it was left.

Feeling a stroke of boldness, Heeseung guided your head onto his shoulder, before slithering his arm to wrap around your own shoulders.

You guys stayed like that for a little bit.

Heeseung gazed at you. You could be lost in thought or dozing off, he wouldn't be able to tell.

He wanted this to last a little bit longer than forever.

Something was changing and neither of you could tell what it was.

Maybe it was now early July, and the heat was unbearable. Or maybe it was the intense scent of bug repellent that had gotten to your heads. It could be all those frozen yogurts you guys ate in your car, or the amount of shitty superhero movies you binged together.

Whatever it was, it was changing everything.

A single atom was out of place, a molecule of carbon was in the wrong spot. Heeseung couldn’t put his finger on it.

The air felt so warm, but not in a humid, suffocating way. 

More like in a rosy way, like someone put a filter over Heeseung's world and now everything was more vibrant.

Heeseung had reason to suspect that you were the culprit.

He'd known you his whole life, and it was only up until recently that he understood why people loved you so much. Because who wouldn't? You weren't just beautiful, but so goddamn incredible. In every way possible.

Heeseung couldn't explain it. He didn't think he had a crush on you. 

In all the romance books and games and movies that he'd consumed, they portrayed crushes as this magical unicorn of all things. Nervous, awkward, clumsy, and an upward battle.

But when Heeseung thought of you, he didn't feel any of these things. 

He felt at home. Comfortable, as if he could be as much of a nerdy loser as he wanted and he'd still be treated the same way. 

Unlike all what fiction would tell him, you weren't some god to him, nor were you a venerated saint. You were just you, and that was already enough to make his heart race. 

There wasn't that urge to constantly hold your hands or kiss your lips (not that he didn't think about it!).

Rather, there was a need to always be with you, to be let into your world, to listen to every thought that you had, to hear your laugh until he fell asleep.

Maybe Heeseung didn't have a crush on you, but it was certainly something else.

And it was the same for you.

You've had crushes, and you've had boyfriends.

You always felt like you needed to be perfect for them, to be drop-dead gorgeous and put-together all the time, to be the kindest version of yourself.

But when it came to Heeseung, it didn't feel like that. 

You could be as brash and annoying as you wanted, without the fear that he'd shun you. In fact, Heeseung would fight back or laugh.

While with all your boyfriends you wanted intimacy, validation, and constant reassurance, Heeseung felt safe. 

You craved nothing from Heeseung except... Well, Heeseung himself. 

And it was driving you nuts.

Help!

It was another family dinner, with both of your families, this time at your own house.

Heeseung and you sat across from each other. From when you were children until now, the two of you still ignored everything that the adults said, opting to stare and make faces at each other.

Except this time, it was absolutely impossible to look at each other without bursting out laughing. 

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back a smile as you glued your eyes to your plate. If you dared to look up and even catch sight of Heeseung's hair, you'd probably laugh.

You gripped your fork. Even if you weren't looking at him, you still somehow could hear him. The way he obnoxiously and loudly poked at his food with his fork was something you always jabbed at him for, and it was still noticeable to you now. Except, instead of annoying you, it only made it harder to not laugh.

"[Name]," Ms. Lee's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up with shaky eyes, and when your eyes passed over Heeseung, you had to bite back a giggle. Alas, you weren't strong enough to hold back a smile.

"Yes?" you responded. From the corner of your eye, you could see Heeseung's nose scrunching. You sent him a quick glare, one that could only last a millisecond.

Don't you dare make a funny face or I'll spill my water all over you, your glare read. But it didn't seem like Heeseung cared.

"What have you been up to all summer?" Ms. Lee smiled. "Any summer programs?"

"No, not this summer," you answered politely. "I've just been—"

Your mother interjected, wiggling her eyebrows. "I've noticed [Name] and Heeseung hanging out a lot this summer."

From under the table you felt Heeseung kick you, but you still didn't dare look at his face. You had to bite inside of your cheek to keep laughter from tumbling out, your eyes wobbling.

"Oh, really?" Ms. Lee looked over at her son. "I didn't know you and [Name] were close, Hee!"

And this was when you unfortunately made eye-contact with Heeseung. Poor boy, his lips wobbled and twitched, trying his hardest to keep it in.

"Y-Yeah," he answered quickly, his voice shaking. That in itself was enough to make you let out a giggle. But before it could be uncontrollable, you clamped your hand over your mouth. You watched as Heeseung did the same, except this time, his face was bright red.

"That's so great!" you moms rejoiced. "We were so afraid that you guys would hate each other forever! You know, when you were kids, you used to..."

You and Heeseung tuned everyone out as they joined in the conversation about your old antics.

Instead, the two of you stared at each other, both completely blank-faced. But a simple look at you and it would be painfully obvious by the way your lips twitched that you were fighting for your life to not burst out with laughter.

And it was when Heeseung was taking a sip of water that you decided to make your attack on him. Just as he was raising his glass to his lips, you quickly made a face at him.

And just as fast as his entire face contorted, a loud laugh fell from his lips. Unfortunately for him, he still had water on his mouth. Poor boy began choking on his water, keeling over himself as he coughed up a storm. 

And while everyone was busy helping him, you were busy laughing your ass off.

You win this one, was the agreement.

"You were 100% playing dirty," Heeseung whined.

You rolled your eyes. "Who gives a fuck?"

After you and Heeseung were excused from the dinner table, the two of you went up to your room.

Currently, the two of you were just lazing around your room. Both of you were on your bed, but Heeseung laid upside-down, with his head hanging off the edge. Although you barely exchanged any words, it wasn't awkward. 

You scrolled through your socials, while Heeseung played his games on his phone. Just the two of you in your own worlds, occasionally breaking the silence to make a jab at each other or to show the other something.

"Oh my god!" you cried suddenly, tossing your phone aside and putting your face in your hands, your fingertips rubbing your temples. "What the fuck?!"

Heeseung, startled, looked at you concerned. "What happened?"

When you groaned into your palms, shaking your head profusely, Heeseung shut off his game, putting his phone away. He sat himself upright, shuffling over to you.

"What happened?" he asked again.

"Bad!" you cried, sinking your head into your pillows. "Horrible! Deplorable! Despicable!"

Heeseung stared at you questioningly, his brows cocking into an arch.

"Tell meeeee," he prodded you, watching as you only sunk back into your pillows. You grabbed one of your plushies and shoved your face into it, flipping over so that you could kick your feet. 

You groaned more, before you screamed into your plush. "I hate men!"

Heeseung poked you again, this time a little bit harder. "Tell meeeee. Did your ex text you?"

"Worse!" your words were slightly muffled, but Heeseung could hear the sheer irritation. "Way, way, way, way, wayworse!"

You did this a little bit longer, before you huffed and flipped yourself over once more. Sitting upright, you saw Heeseung sitting there patiently, waiting for you to explain to him what the fuck was going on.

"Okay so," you began, wincing at the next words you were about to say. "You know how my Instagram is public? So that anyone can message me?"

Heeseung narrowed his eyes. "Yeeeeessss?"

You grumbled something under your breath, taking Heeseung's hands in yours. You traced shapes on his palms and played with his fingers, anything to distract yourself from the godforsaken things you'd have to say next.

"Well," you sighed, shaking your head. "I got a dick pic from some random guy."

Heeseung blinked.

"Oh."

.

.

.

"Wait, you got a what?!"

Yes, you really received an unsolicited picture of some guy's dick. Insane, really.

It was now Heeseung's turn to tweak out. 

"Oh my god!" he fell back into the pillows, grabbing at his hair. How ridiculous! "What the fuuuuuck?!"

"I know right?!" you fell back with him. The two of you laid like that, your heads next to each other. 

It was silent again, save for the sound of your parents chattering downstairs.

"Did you block him?" Heeseung suddenly asked.

"Nope," you sighed loudly. "Not yet."

Heeseung hummed. 

He couldn't imagine how many times you'd probably encountered this type of situation. And if this was the first time, it was already too much. If he were in your position, he'd have absolutely no idea how to react either. He'd be paralyzed, with no idea what to do! Maybe except...

"Do you want to fuck with him?" Heeseung blurted.

"Huh?"

"You know..." the boy swiped his tongue over his lips, wringing his fingers. "Fuck with him."

You looked at him, your head tilted as if you didn't understand.

"I-I mean, if this guy's going to be disrespectful, it wouldn't hurt to give him a taste of his own medicine, right?"

You nodded, understanding. "But how?"

Heeseung's nose scrunched. He had many ideas, but he wasn't sure which one was the best. "Well, do you want to have fun with it or do you want to genuinely scare this guy off?"

You thought for a second, before a sly grin made its way across your cheeks. "There's no harm in having fun. I can just block him afterwards, easy peasy."

"Oh," Heeseung said. Then, a good idea popped into his head. His lips curved. "I have just the idea for that."

"Is this okay?"

"Hmm, a little to the left."

Heeseung's plan was funny, but it also made you feel... mushy.

The idea was for Heeseung to respond on your phone pretending to be your boyfriend, something that would probably scare the other guy off. 

After a little bit of stalking, you guys concluded that the guy was a frat bro, so it would be best to prepare some pictures for evidence.

The first picture you decided to take was one that showed just a small part of your back and shoulders in bed, just enough to make it seem like you were in bed with someone. That way, it would be believable if Heeseung pretended to be your boyfriend.

So here you were, laying in bed with the blankets strategically draped over you, pretending to be asleep, while Heeseung snapped 'candid' pictures. You turned off all the lights to make it more believable, so if your parents walked in now they'd be confused as all hell.

"It's a little blurry," Heeseung remarked as he looked at the camera roll.

"That's perfect," you rolled over, facing him. "It'll look even more candid."

The next picture that you prepared was a little bit more risky, but all the more impactful.

"So... So.. Uhm—" Heeseung's cheeks burned as he explained it to you. "I think it would scare him if he thought he was messing with a super buff guy, you know?"

"Uh huh."

"W-Well," Heeseung grimaced. "If I send— like— a picture of my muscles, or something, I think it would scare him off."

You blinked. "Is this just an excuse to show off your biceps?"

"No!"

As you tuned out Heeseung's rambling, you thought for a few seconds. If you were a guy, and some girl's boyfriend caught you trying to flirt with her, what would make you piss yourself?

Well, it would definitely be any explicit indication of intimacy... Your lips moved faster than your mind.

"What if you sent a picture of you with hickeys and lipstick marks?" you gushed.

Heeseung choked on his spit, coughing so loud that you thought he would burst a lung. His face was bright red, his eyes as wide as saucers as he stared at you horrified.

"A picture of me with what?!"

"Hickeys and lipstick marks," you said casually.

"And where would I get them?!" Heeseung was going to faint. If you said what he think you were going to say, he'd absolutely combust—

"Me, duh."

Flames. Absolute flames. That's what Heeseung felt on his skin. Were you just suggesting that you could give him hickeys and lipstick marks? His heart was pounding in his chest, so loud that he could barely hear his own thoughts.

"I mean, if you don't want to, we can just—"

"No!" Heeseung interrupted you, as if he wasn't as red as a tomato. "I can take it!"

And that's how Heeseung found himself sitting on your bedroom floor, his body so hot and hands clammy as he watched you roll up his sleeve. 

Here was the plan for this picture: You'd put a few lipstick marks and hickeys on his biceps and neck. That way, he could snap a quick picture of that area alone while flexing, effectively scaring off the guy.

(Or maybe this entire plan was a very poor excuse for Heeseung to pretend to be your boyfriend and for you to kiss him.)

"Have you ever gotten a hickey?"

Heeseung's cheeks flared. "N-No."

You quickly put on your most pigmented lipstick. Slowly, you leaned closer to Heeseung's neck. He could feel your breath against his ears, making him want to squirm away. You put your hand on the other side of him so that you could stabilize yourself.

"Well," you whispered. "It doesn't hurt, so don't worry."

You brought your hand up to Heeseung's hair, gently tilting his head back to get better access to his neck. 

"Can I...?" you rasped, wetting your lips.

"Y-Yes."

And with that, your lips attacked his neck. You made sure to press on firm kisses so that the imprint of your lips would be defined on his neck. 

With each kiss, Heeseung let out a quiet whimper, his eyes squeezing shut as his arm jerked out to grasp your arm gently.

He felt like he was dreaming, because here he was, having you kiss him. No intense build-up, no dramatic reason, just because it was funny and you wanted to fuck with someone. God, Heeseung would be lying if he said he never thought about what your lips would feel like. They were always so pretty, and so soft.

All throughout his life, Heeseung had never had a romantic experience. It was his first time ever being kissed on the neck, and goddamnit was he sensitive. The way your lips pressed against his skin made him feel so weak. 

He wanted to be closer to you, closer than whatever this stupid little plan was. He craved it.

His other arm came up to slither around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

"Hees— Heeseung— Ah—" you pulled your lips away, both of your hands coming up to clutch his shoulders for stability. "What are you doing?"

Heeseung's pupils were blown out. 

"Get on top of me," he breathed desperately, "Please."

"Shiiiit," you cursed under your breath, before you plopped down on his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. 

The two of you locked eyes, staring into each other's swirling pools of color. You could've been lost in Heeseung's eyes for minutes or for hours, there wouldn't have been a difference.

Oh, how much you wanted to kiss him. Not just a stupid little kiss on the neck. You wanted to kiss him on the lips, kiss him so hard that he forgot his own name.

Yeah, you had a crush on Heeseung Lee. You always had, and it seemed like no matter what, you were always bound to be downright attracted to him. God, you wanted him so bad.

Meanwhile, blaring alarms were going off in Heeseung's head. 

He wanted to kiss you so bad. He wanted to drown in you, for you to be the only thing enveloping his senses.

Except... he had no idea how to— he had no idea now to express that. And it was making his head spin.

You opened your mouth to speak, not realizing that Heeseung, too, had something to say.

"Hee—"

"I—"

Both of you shut your mouths so quickly.

"S-Sorry," you stuttered. "Go ahead."

Heeseung blinked a few times, before he shut his eyes. You watched how he parted his lips, yet no sound came out, almost as if he was searching for the words in his head to say. 

"I-I—" he started, before cutting himself off. His eyes squeezed together, his brows crashing together. You could feel his body tense under you.

"I don't know," he finally got out. "I-I— I don't know what—"

You brought your hand up to cup his cheek reassuringly. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and your thumb rubbed his cheek gently. 

"Tell me," you whispered. "Tell me, baby."

Heeseung gulped. He felt like he'd melt under your gaze, but the way you were so gentle encouraged him. Heeseung kept his eyes glued on the floor, because if he even dared to look you in the eye he'd turn to stone.

He took a deep breath. He'd tell you how you made him feel. It shouldn't be too hard, right?

But the moment that he opened his mouth, his brain turned to mush.

"I want to— I just— I don't know—" he stammered— "I wish I could— You know— It's hard to say, and—"

And if it wasn't for the way you stifled a giggle, Heeseung thought he would've gone on like this for another ten minutes. 

The moment that Heeseung realized you were smiling at his struggle, he shut his mouth, letting out a groan. He threw his head back, bringing his hands up to shove his face in.

"Shut up," he groaned. This was so embarrassing. He could feel heat prickling on his skin. His face was so hot that he thought he'd explode. "Shutupshutupshutup!"

You giggled again, this time using both your hands to cup his face. 

Despite your cool, nonchalant exterior, you were giggling and kicking your feet on the inside. 

"You're—" you breathed— "You're such a fucking loser."

Heeseung was about to tell you to shut up again, but you cut him off.

"Can I kiss you?"

You relished in the way his eyes widened, probably the widest that you've ever seen them. So cute.

"P-Please."

And with that, you smashed your lips against his. 

Poor boy, he was completely frozen at first. But as you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip, you relished in the way that he let out a gasp, giving you just enough room to slip your tongue inside his mouth. You explored his mouth— every corner and every crevice was meant for you to corrupt. 

You could feel his hands fall down at his sides. Of course, a loser like Heeseung wouldn't know where to put them. As you taste his lips, you guided his hands to your thighs. He gasped again, and you took this as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. As you did, Heeseung squeezed your thighs, letting out a whine.

Finally, you pulled away.

The two of you stared at each other, both breathless with swollen lips.

And as you caught your breath, you breathed, "I like you."

Maybe he would've been too stunned to speak after a kiss like that, but your words a loud "Huh?!" spill from his lips.

You grasped his chin, pulling him in again. 

"I like you," you murmured against his lips, your eyes lidded.

Heeseung's breath hitched. "I—"

"Was that what you were going to say?" you said slyly, unwilling to hide your teasing tone. A whimper came from him. "Did I beat you to it?"

You ghosted your lips over his teasingly, loving the way that Heeseung leaned forward a little bit, whining as you pulled away just enough for him to miss you.

"Just—" he murmured, "Just kiss me already."

"Gladly."

And with that, your lips crashed together. This time, Heeseung's lips were moving, too. He was a clumsy kisser, someone who had no fucking idea what he was doing. But that made the kiss even better. You've kissed many boys, but for some reason Heeseung was the best kisser you've had. You could taste him.

"Such a fucking loser," you murmured. You felt his hands slide up your waist, squeezing you.

"Yeah," Heeseung mumbled against your lips, and although his words were muffled, his voice drove you crazy. "Yourfucking loser."

Immediately you pulled away.

You looked at Heeseung, and he looked at you.

.

.

.

You bursted out laughing, and so did he.

"God, you're so cheesy!"

"Shut up!"

BONUS

You rested your cheek on Heeseung's shoulder, watching as he typed away. After all this, the two of you still needed to fulfill your plan: fuck with Mr. Dick Pic.

"What are you going to say?" you asked, nuzzling your face into Heeseung's neck. You admired the purple-pink marks littering his skin, the ones that you left. Your lipstick marks smudged when you and Heeseung were making out earlier, so you had to redo them. It was hard, because all Heeseung could do was giggle like a little girl.

"Trust me, I'll cook something up."

And cook he did.

[name]: she's busy bro

[name]: [photo]

The first photo he sent was the candid one of you.

You waited a few seconds, and Mr. Dick Pic immediately opened the message.

Heeseung hid your phone from you, so you couldn't see the guy's response.

But what you could see was how he furiously typed away.

You thought it was funny at first... until Heeseung was typing paragraphs and paragraphs so loud that you could hear his fingers tapping the screen.

"Hold on, babe, I'm fighting this guy!"

"Just block him...!"

Some things never changed.

[kingsoowolves]

constant | s. es

pairing: Best friend!Eunseok x fem!reader

word count: 9.2k

author's note: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while because I desperately wanna give it a part two, but I don't have the timeeeeeeee :( so if you like this, pretty please tell me and put your foot on my butt so I write it :) Inspired by nothing else but my sick twisted mind full of angst. Hope you enjoy!

contents: Best friends turned to friends with benefits turned to (awkward) best friends again turned to ?????? Angst, semi smut (as in descriptions of first time having sex + heavy make out session with grindind and feeling each other up), and more angst because I'm crazy. Eunseok has a girlfriend on the latter part of this, so there's cheating involved (trigger warning). Reader's father dies when she's very young (more trigger warning). Other riize members + random idols mentioned for worldbuilding. No happy ending (for now).

you can also read this work on my ao3, if you'd like

For as long as you can remember, Song Eunseok has been a constant in your life.

Some of your oldest memories are from when you were around six and, by then, you already spent most of your afternoons on playdates with the boy next door and his mom.

Your mother recounts the day you’ve met when you were both five-year-olds with elaborate detail. After your dad’s sudden death scarred your lives, you moved into a far place where nobody knew you. The day you settled in your new house, your mom took you for a stroll around the neighborhood to get to know the area and you ended up in a playground packed with kids from all ages. 

According to her, you were the one who approached Eunseok. He was a shy boy playing by himself on the sand box with his toy rocket ship when you came over, hair in pigtails with pink ribbons and a gap between your teeth from losing your first baby tooth only a week prior, your face eclipsing the sunlight that hit his forehead. Your mom says that when he looked up, anyone could tell he had just found something brighter than the sun to beam over him.

Or at least that’s what she likes to say to get you both flustered now that you’re young adults.

Nevertheless, since that day you’ve been attached at the hip and it was clear that your bright outspoken personality complemented his quiet observant one. Although the contrast sometimes was a bit too much for people. Sunshine extroverted girl running around with brooding introverted boy? It made no sense for them. When you started getting older and others’ comments and side-eyes got progressively worse, you showed everyone how you could be the cross one if they pushed too far. You spent a lot of time kicking shins and pulling heads full of hair from the boys that bullied Eunseok and the girls who talked bad behind his back just because he was timid. You also talked back to any adult who dared to make a nasty comment about your friendship. By the time you reached middle school, everyone in your little town knew not to mess with you or your friend.

Finally, you were free to play and be with Eunseok to your heart’s content, without having to worry about snide remarks that could upset him. Now you could enjoy your time with your best friend from the whole wide world and not care what people think, because for once they were not announcing it to you. It made the connection between you two much stronger.

You constantly reminisce of days spent with him, learning everything there was to know about each other.

The first thing you learnt about Eunseok was how much he likes the universe. He told you everything about it — how old it is, what it is made of, what humanity knows and does not know about it. He told you scientific discoveries and theories, recited every galaxy, planet, meteorite he could remember the name of and filled your days with interesting facts and anecdotes about his passion. Every word out of his mouth would make you gawk, both because of how amazing it all sounded and because you couldn’t believe he was able to gather that much information at such a young age.

When you’d talk about your future selves, you always wished to become something plain and silly as any girl would say, like an actress or an idol, but Eunseok dreamed of greater professions. He wanted to be an astronaut, an aerospace engineer, an astrophysicist, a project manager. Sometimes you’d feel small and pathetic from how big his dreams were compared to yours. But it was your own mind’s fault, never Eunseok’s. He never viewed you as any less than him just because you had differing interests and specially never made you feel stupid for being a girl.

Eunseok took interest in your hobbies. He let you play dress up with him, loving the cute Sanrio hair pins you put on his head and complimenting you on your make up skills once you were done and he looked at himself in the mirror. He listened to you talk for hours about your favorite artists and retell him the plot of the latest drama you were watching with your mom. He became a fan of anime because of you and you started binge-watching a bunch together. He listened to your music and even made you a personal playlist of your favorite artists one day. And he was also the one who accompanied you to their concerts, buying you merch and sticking by your side, laughing whilst you screamed your lungs out for the people on stage.

Getting to know Eunseok and spending time with him was the best part of your days and when people finally stopped disturbing you about your friendship, you had more time to spend with each other. Though you were so relieved about it that you didn’t prepare yourself for the next big change — high school. 

Puberty and hormones are a funny thing. One day your best friend is the rejected loner nerd everybody seems to look down on. The next day he’s the cute sexy boy-with-thick-framed-glasses that everyone is looking at.

You and Eunseok were never ready for the kind of attention he started to receive in your second year of high school. His once perpetually empty desk nook was now filled to the brim with chocolates on Valentine’s Day and notes with declaration of love. Girls suffered when they didn’t get a gift back from him on White Day and suddenly, without your consent, everybody appointed you as Eunseok’s personal messenger, handing over confessions' letters for him during lectures or even dropping them inside your locker or backpack when you weren’t looking. You hand delivered every single one of them to him, complaining about it the whole time, just to watch him read the contents of each letter and then rip them apart, throwing them in the nearest trash can. Whenever you stared at the shreds of paper inside the bin for a second too long, Eunseok grabbed your wrist and pulled you along to walk out the school's hallways with him.

You were always wondering if he liked the attention or not, but you never asked him about it and you’re sure he would never admit it even if that was the case.

Another thing that you wondered about was what the fuck all the girls abruptly started seeing in him. Up until then, you were the only one who knew how special Eunseok was. But that was because you saw something in him on that first day at the playground nobody else did and you spent years actually growing together with him. You knew Eunseok was a kind soul, a helpful friend and an overall amazing guy, but that was because he let you in.

The girls who were flocking behind him didn’t know that he preferred a mango Melona over a watermelon one. Or that he always double knotted his shoelaces and insisted on you doing the same every time you tripped over your shoes. Or that whenever you came back home together, he waited for you to get inside your house and lock the door before going to his home right beside it. They didn’t know he used to help your mom whenever your car had a mechanical problem or that he tasted every single one of your failed baking recipes, no matter how bad they were. They didn’t know he cooked whole meals with his mother and took care of their garden with his father. Or that whenever your mother took the night shift at the hospital, he made you a lunchbox for dinner and for breakfast. They didn’t know he always grabbed you a strawberry milk at the school’s canteen when they were close to running out. Or that when your first boyfriend broke up with you barely two weeks after you started dating, he comforted and hugged you for hours while you cried in his arms. Or that when you told him you didn’t know if the few memories you have of your father were real or just fabricated from old pictures, videos and stories your mother tells you, he comforted you by saying that your heart remembers him and that was what mattered. 

They didn’t know he loved dad jokes and would hit you with them at least three times a day, making you roll your eyes and laugh with every new one out of his mouth. They didn’t know his gruff voice turned soft and airy when he sang and that, on starry nights, he laid by your side on your backyard lawn and talked about all the constellations in the night sky over your heads. They didn’t even know how athletic he actually was and about how you both went to Sungchan’s house every Wednesday after class where Eunseok proceeded to kick Sungchan’s ass at basketball while you watched and sipped on your bubble tea.

You knew Eunseok, those girls didn’t.

They only saw a hint of a stubble on his jaw and his shoulders getting broader one day and decided he was finally worth the attention when you knew of this fact since day one.

And the possibility that any of those desperate tramps could ever get to know him like you did made your stomach churn. Eunseok’s response to them just bugged you further. He never responded to any advances, but never outright rejected them either. He seemed apathetic about it, and maybe that should’ve told you something, but you couldn’t figure it out now and much less when you were sixteen.

Fortunately, after a while, those girls stopped humiliating themselves looking for the attention he never gave them and things more or less went back to normal, with them labeling him as a pretentious loser and going back to their stupid lives. And you had him all to yourself again.

The next time your relationship with Eunseok changed only happened in the winter break before your last year of school and it was provoked by you. You still don’t know why you did what you did. Maybe it was the hormones. Maybe it was the small list of guys that had already broken your heart by then. Maybe it was just the fear of going to college as a still inexperienced and never desired eighteen-year-old. Maybe it was because you were afraid of the near future, of a life without Eunseok coming just around the corner.

You knew that once you finished high school, he would probably study in Seoul or maybe even go abroad. The life in your little town would never be enough for him. He was too intelligent and dedicated to his studies to not aim high. And you would just stay behind, because you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving your mom alone in the world and because you were never a good student anyway. The thing with being extroverted is that it can land you many contacts, but they won’t mean a thing if you don’t have the qualifications to back them up. Either way, you were stuck there. Eunseok would fly and you would just watch and cheer for him from afar. So you needed something to hold on to, something to completely mark the memories you had together forever.

All you remember is that you were huddled together inside his room, on your weekly movie night, watching an anime Eunseok loved for the thousandth time and you got distracted by his eyelashes, how they softly pressed the skin under his waterline anytime he blinked, how the blue glow from the TV made they seem a tone lighter and smooth to the touch, and how desperately you needed to feel them with your fingertips. Next, you stared at his eyebrows, thick and designed and really pretty. Really really pretty. Like all of him. Then, while he was laughing about something in the movie, you raised your hand as if to mindlessly touch his brows because it was like they were calling to you, but Eunseok caught your wrist mid-movement, pulling back before you could graze his skin.

He gasped and looked at you with wide eyes and you asked him the most ridiculous question that ever came out of your mouth.

“Seok, will you be my first?” You said.

He didn’t ask what you meant, because he knew exactly what you were talking about. He didn’t ask if you were serious, because he knew you were. He didn’t ask if you were sure, because he also knew you were. Because he knew you. One look at your face and he could see the sincerity dripping from your whole being.

“Yes,” he replied a half second later. And then he pulled you in for a kiss.

You would like to say that you kept your calm through all of it, that you didn’t feel shaken or nauseated with nerves and that you did everything exactly like the magazines guided, like your friends talked about when telling their experiences, like the spicy videos you watched late at night showed, like the romantic movies made it seem. You’d like to say that you kissed Eunseok with certainty, that you took off your clothes sensually and that you grabbed his cock the right way.

But Eunseok’s bedroom would beg to differ. The laptop on his study desk saw how your lips faltered over his skin and overheard your frenzied mind wondering if you were doing everything right. His calendar snickered at you while your t-shirt got stuck on your earring on its way off your body and how you fumbled to free the fabric and almost ripped your ear off. The posters on his walls watched your trembling fingers struggling with the buckle on his belt for thirty seconds until Eunseok took pity on you and unfastened it himself. The clock beside his TV looked at your expectant eyes when he deposited kisses on the valley between your breasts and continued going down, down, down. When his fingers inside you were unexpectedly precise in driving you to your first peak and you asked him if he had done that before, the lamp on his nightstand listened to the sound of your disappointed gasp after he said “Yes”. His sheets felt the nervous tugs of your hand whilst you pumped Eunseok’s dick in an unsteady rhythm and at an awkward angle with your other hand. His bed frame picked up on your hoarse moans once he finally slid into you, sounds that only grew louder and raspier with each drive of his hips forward. His mattress could testify to how slick you got in between your legs and about the mess you left behind. His books eavesdropped on you promising to each other in between whimpers that it was only a one time thing, never to happen again, and that it wouldn’t change your friendship. And once your joint orgasm took over you both, the stars stickers on his ceiling shined bright right at your wrecked and fucked out face.

After, when your head was laying on Eunseok’s chest and he started to snore, you reached out and touched his eyebrows and lashes, brushing against them one by one while an indescribable feeling took over you.

You’d also like to say that you kept your promise or that at least you tried to keep it, but two days later you both found ourselves in the same compromising position — naked and on his bed. By the start of the school year, you were meeting up almost everyday and fucking at least for three days out of the week.

Being with Eunseok like that showed you a whole new side of him. Of course he still took care of you in every way possible, but he stopped being so nice and gentle all the time. There was no space for tenderness when he was too busy fucking you from behind, tweaking your peaked nipples, thrusting his cock into your mouth until you gagged on it, collecting your drool to use as lubricant, curling his fingers deep inside you, telling you how much he loved your cunt and begging you to cum for him. But you preferred it this way. You could take his rough fucking.

What you couldn’t handle were the soft moments in between, when he brushed your sweaty hair back and gazed deeply into your eyes, and when he asked in his softest voice if you were feeling good — if he was the reason you felt so good —, and when he told you how much he liked you and how perfect you were for him, and when he admitted he thought about you two like that for so long, and when he murmured sweet words to you like a prayer, and when he caressed your skin as if you were a goddess and he was your faithful servant.

What you really couldn’t handle was Eunseok’s confession three months later. The look on his face when you replied to his "I love you" with “You deserve someone better than me” will haunt you forever. You had never seen him put on his clothes and storm out of your room so fast before.

After that night, you didn’t hook up again and things turned awkward. But Eunseok was still a kind soul, a helpful friend and an overall amazing guy. All he gave you was three weeks of complete radio silence — no texts, no calls, no extracurricular meetings, not even a glance your way during classes. You even stopped going to and coming back from school together. And then on one sunny Tuesday, when you were on your way home in the afternoon, he trailed behind you and eventually your footsteps fell side by side. Eunseok didn’t say a thing whilst your sneakers pressed against the pavement at the same rhythm. You also didn’t dare to speak a single word, afraid any sound would scare him away.

Once you pulled up in front of your neighboring houses he picked some papers from inside his backpack and handed them to you.

“I took a copy of my notes from Calculus III. For that exam on Friday,” he explained.

You grabbed the sheets of paper and looked at his carefully crafted handwriting photocopied on them, how it was gentle and soft like almost everything he did. You looked up at him and asked, “Why are you giving me this?

He shrugged. “Thought you might need it.”

“Does this mean we are friends again?” You asked, your voice hopeful and unsure.

“You’ll always be my best friend, Y/N,” he said and his words carried a sorrow that pained your heart deeply.

Then he turned, climbed the three steps of his front porch and entered his house. He didn’t wait for you to get inside your home and lock the door like he used to. He just left you there. You felt relieved that he put himself over you at least once. Even if it was also his way of forgiving you.

It took a while for you to feel comfortable with each other again. And even still, it wasn’t the same as before. You had to find a new normal.

The new normal came with not having Eunseok doing so many nice things to you. He didn’t let you get the last pizza slice anymore or save you a seat on school’s assemblies you always got late to. Your once duo movie nights turned into something you’d do with a group of friends, at least one other person to ease the obvious tension still lingering in between you. And that’s when group gatherings, either going out with friends or meeting at someone’s house, became even more common. Because being alone with him in an enclosed space was definitely off limits. You needed to fill all the space in between you with people and things so there wouldn't be any left for thoughts and feelings.

The new normal also included saying goodbye to Eunseok at the end of the year. He ended up enrolled at Pusan National University’s science program and you stayed at your town studying tourism in a local uni. His college was still close to your town, it was only one hour and ten minutes drive from your house to his dorm, maybe one and a half if there was traffic. And he came home every other weekend, where you’d often meet and be your childhood selves together again. Still, not having him part of your everyday life hurt you more than you thought it would.

Then, two months after your second year at college started, he showed up at your house late on a Friday night, all merry and giddy. You immediately knew something was up.

“I have to tell you something,” he said under the light of your entryway while he took off his shoes.

“What is it?” You asked, taking a step back to prepare yourself for the news.

“I have a girlfriend,” he whispered, breaking your heart in a million pieces.

Her name is Sian and she is everything you aren’t — lovable, smart, caring, and with the same interests as Eunseok.

When he brought her home one weekend, she was warm and kind. She talked to you as if you were a close friend and apparently did not care a bit that you, another woman, are Eunseok’s best friend. Also, she makes Eunseok grin like no one else does and you’re grateful for that, because his smiles are hard to come by ever since that night you told him he deserves someone better. Turns out he did find someone better. And you can’t even hate her because she is a truly good person. But you do envy her.

That’s what you’re doing right now, envying Sian. It’s movie night and Eunseok is at your room, the both of you together and alone again after so many years, courtesy of Sungchan, Chaeryeong and Wonbin blowing you off to warm themselves up at a winter break party rather than hide at home under the blankets. It feels both awkward and familiar to be here with him, mostly because Eunseok is supposed to be watching the movie with you. You are supposed to be watching the movie, too, but you’re stuck observing him from the corner of your eye for fifteen minutes while he smiles and types away at his phone, texting his girlfriend. Said girlfriend who is currently traveling around France with her parents and bombing Eunseok’s phone with photos of her smiling prettily under the Eiffel Tower, in front of the Louvre, at Champs-Élysées. You don’t know why she takes so many photos. You don’t know why Eunseok has to react to every single one of them with a heart emoji and tell her how beautiful she looks. But you suppose that when you're pretty and rich and go to expensive places and have a caring boyfriend, that’s what happens. Not that you’d know any of that.

The thing is, envying Sian is not new to you. You’ve become used to it. It's quite easy to do it, actually. Because she has everything whilst you have nothing. She has money, beauty, intelligence and love. She has loyal friends and good people by her side. She has a balanced family and absolutely no childhood trauma from what you can tell. She definitely has some procedures on her face and her teeth are so perfect and bright it hurts your eyes. And she has an alive father, one that would for sure make a lovely father-in-law for Eunseok one day. Because she also has Eunseok.

And you like Sian. You really like her. But you can’t stand another minute of Eunseok not paying attention to anything that isn’t her – not paying attention to you.

“Seok, you’re not watching the movie,” you finally say after putting up with his constant texting for the last fifteen minutes.

He looks at you for a beat and puts his phone face down over his stomach, eyes shifting back to the laptop screen glowing in front of you both. “Sorry.”

He stays like that for a while, but then his phone vibrates and its screen glows and he picks it up again, spending another few minutes typing.

You shift uncomfortably on the far corner of your bed, the space between you and Eunseok as wide as the emotional distance you both created. “Eunseok, come on,” you whine, turning to him. “Are you for real right now?”

He doesn’t even glance your way this time, choosing to remain focused on whatever message he’s writing. “Sorry, I’m just texting Sian,” he says, as if you don’t know it already.

You sigh. “I know, but can’t you do it another time?”

“No. We haven’t been able to talk for a few days because of the time zones’ difference. And right now we’re both free and awake,” he explains.

His answer shoots an arrow straight through your chest. “Except you’re not free,” you remind him, your voice getting a tone higher. “You’re busy watching a movie with me!”

“Well, I need a couple minutes to talk with my girlfriend!” He counters.

“It’s been a couple minutes, alright? It’s been a few minutes, actually!”

“Y/N, I really don’t get what the problem is,” he says, finally looking at you again, seeming exasperated.

“The problem is you’re not watching the freaking movie!” You exclaim, feeling annoyed yourself.

He has the audacity to roll his eyes at you and turn back to his phone. “We watched this movie a billion times already.”

“It’s our favorite movie!” You say through gritted teeth, feeling offended.

“And we watched it a billion times before,” he repeats with a condescending tone, like he’s talking to a dumb kid. “My point still stands.”

“Well, if that’s how it’s gonna be,” you start, shutting the laptop down. You crawl down the bed and carry it with you before flicking your light back on, beyond yourself with anger. “Then movie night is over!” You finish, reaching for your study desk and putting your laptop on it with a little too much force.

Eunseok rubs at his eyes for a moment, the sudden clarity obviously affecting his vision as much as it’s affecting yours, but you’re too busy being mad to care for it. 

Once he’s done adjusting his eyes, he comes back to the argument. “Oh God, it’s just a movie. You are so dramatic!”

His words only hurt you more. “If I’m so dramatic, why don’t you go back to your home and never look at me again since that’s what you prefer anyway?”

Eunseok stares at you for a second, then blinks. “What?”

“I said if I’m so dramatic—”

“No, no, no,” he interrupts you, flinging himself from the bed and tossing his phone at your nightstand in a single move. “I heard what you said, but what the fuck do you mean about it?”

You cross your arms, still defensive and livid. “Oh, come on, Eunseok! You don’t talk with me anymore. I know nothing about your life except for when you’re speaking about Sian. And that is all you talk about — Sian, Sian, Sian, all the fucking time. You never make time for us. And when by a chance we do have the opportunity to spend some time together, again you’re talking with her? You don’t pay attention to me and you don’t fucking care anymore! So if you don’t want my friendship, just say it and go away! We can be done and over with it!”

“Where did you get the idea that I don’t care about you? If I didn’t care, why would I be here?” He says, tips of his ears and apple of his cheeks getting red.

“But you’re not here!” You yell, moving a little towards him and slamming your hand on your dresser. A few of your personal items on it shake and fall. “You haven’t been here for a while now. You’re not present in this friendship anymore. We don’t talk, we don’t go out, we don’t stay in together. We never do anything just the two of us. We’re never alone and never together, not truly. And even when we’re with other people, your mind is also elsewhere all the time. Everything just feels empty and superficial between us.”

Eunseok’s face gets redder with each word you utter and when you’re finished he spats at you, “And whose fault is that, Y/N? Who the fuck ruined everything between us?”

“Oh, so now you’re ready to talk about it?” You question, taking a step in his direction and crossing your arms. “Not gonna act like a coward and pretend nothing happened like usual?”

He also starts to walk towards you. “I’m a coward? You’re the one who walked away from us because you were too afraid of taking a chance!”

“And I regret it everyday!” You exclaim. “I get that I hurt you, Eunseok. I get that, okay? But also, I just miss us!” Your throat tightens and your voice starts to get shaky and heavy, all thanks to your upcoming tears. “I miss you! I miss you so freaking bad!”

It’s then that you start to cry, overcome with guilt and remorse, tears flowing from your eyes and cascading on your flushed face.

Eunseok’s temper tones down at your reaction and he takes a step back to assess your state. When the tears don’t stop after a few seconds, he looks at you with sorrow in his eyes. “Y/N,” he says, voice soft and understanding.

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes and turn away at him, hiding from the pity in his gaze by leaning your head against the wall. Your arm accidentally bumps against the light switch when you do it and the room darkens around you.

It’s quiet for a while. Just the sound of your sobs and hiccups and Eunseok’s ragged breath near the bed. You can hear that he’s trying to calm himself down, taking deep breaths in and out. Then you hear the noise of his sock-covered foot sliding across your floor, informing you he’s taking a hesitant step toward you. After that one, comes a new step. And another. And one more. And after a couple more, you feel his presence a hair’s breadth away from you. It’s warm and inviting and it takes everything in you not to lean back against it.

But you don’t have to, because a moment later he’s closing the distance. His arms cross over the front of your stomach, his chest meets your back and his chin rests on the crown of your head. He’s enveloping you in a hug from behind, over and under you. His scent invades your nostrils – clean softener, cedar wood and a touch of the citrus hand cream you gave him weeks prior. It feels suffocating in the best way possible. You don’t want him to ever let you go.

“Oh, Y/N,” he sighs. “I had no idea you felt like that.” He tightens his arms around you and continues. “I miss you, too. I miss you so much.”

“I didn’t know,” you stutter. “You never told me.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re both losers with a communication problem, right?” He says with a chuckle, his chest trembling against your back. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you sob, shaking your head. “Seok, I’m so sorry. For so many things.”

“Yeah?” He asks, pulling some hair away from the side of your face and snuggling his head on your shoulder. “Can you look at me and say that to my face, though?”

“Seok,” you whine, feeling guilty and vulnerable.

“Please?” He asks in a melodic voice. You can feel his breath right at your pulse and it takes everything in you not to ask him to kiss you. “I need to see your face to know that you really mean it.”

You sigh deeply, still ashamed, but does as he says. You do it slowly though. First you back away from the wall and pull your hands from your eyes, blinking at the shift from a complete blackout to the darkness of your room, still illuminated by the soft light of the hallway infiltrating from your half open door. Then you hastily clean a few tears from your face and brush your hair down, flicking it over your shoulders and trying to look like less of a hot mess. Only then you turn around to Eunseok and he lets his hands drift from the front of your stomach to your waist, still holding you close.

Your eyes dance over his form. Looking at his arms, his chest, his stomach, his shoulders. Everywhere but his face. He just waits while you gather courage, seconds passing through you.

Once you feel ready, you take another deep breath and look up, finally meeting his brown eyes again. They don’t have that anger that was present there a few minutes ago. The grudge they carried for you for years is also not there anymore. It makes you feel like crying again.

“Seok, I’m so sorry,” you hiccup, growing agitated again, new tears welling up your eyes. “I’m so sorry for so many things. For hurting you and for not talking about it and for not apologizing earlier and for not saying how—”

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, pretty girl,” he coos, hands cradling your face to wipe at your tear streaked skin. “I know. I believe you, okay? I really do.”

“I was so dumb, I’m still so dumb. I never told you—”

“Hey, no, don’t talk about my best friend like that, please,” he says, pulling you in so the side of your face is pressed against his chest.

You slide your hands under his arms and around his back, wrapping your arms around him to pull him back against you, his heartbeat echoing in your ear. “I’m still your best friend?” You ask, voice small and quivering.

He snickers and you feel his nose touching the crown of your head. His chest expands behind your cheek when he takes a whiff of your hair. “Haven’t I told you that already?” He says, each word making his lips move against your scalp. “You’ll always be my best friend, Y/N. Nothing can change that.”

You continue crying, dampening his t-shirt with your tears. “I was so afraid we’d never talk again.”

“I know, sweetheart, but you don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here with you now, right?”

“Are you? For real?” You ask, pushing off his chest to glance up at him.

Eunseok’s gaze melts at your insecurity and he lifts a hand to massage behind your head. “I am. For real.”

“You don’t hate me, then?” You ask, just to be sure.

“I could never hate you, Y/N. Where did you get that idea?”

You shrug and look down, biting on your lower lip. “I don’t know.”

But you do know. You thought he hated you because of what you did. And he’d had every right to if that was the case. You’re lucky he’s always been a kind soul, a helpful friend and an overall amazing guy.

He bends a little to catch your gaze, his thumb grazing your chin. “I’m here and I don’t hate you. I’ll be present again in this friendship from now on. Can you also do that?”

You nod quickly. “Yes, I can.”

“Great. Then we’re settled,” he says.

You smile and Eunseok smiles back at you. Then he rests his forehead on yours, sweeping back some strands of your hair and tucking them in behind your ear. You close your eyes and bask in his presence, at the certainty he's here with you now. You still have a lot to talk about, but you can do it calmly and over time. Right now what matters is that you found a middle ground. Everything else can wait a little bit longer.

You stay like that for a while, hugging tightly, feeling each other, growing confident the other won’t slip away. Until something shifts. Eunseok’s hands slide from the back of your head to your neck, his thumbs brushing on your skin. You know it’s an innocent act, that he’s just shifting his position a little. But you can’t contain the involuntary shiver that runs through your spine. You visibly shake in his embrace, opening your eyes with a gasp to find him already gazing deeply at you, his eyes darker than the last time you looked at him.

You flinch back and squeeze your eyes shut. “Sorry, I—”

“Don’t say sorry,” Eunseok commands, his voice lower than you've ever heard before. He rubs his thumbs down your clavicle and your body trembles again. “Don’t you ever say sorry about that.”

You take a shaky breath, the tension filling your nerves, and open your eyes again. He’s still looking at you and his fingers press against your nape to pull your face closer to his, his nose brushing against yours.

“Seok,” you whisper, not knowing if you’re giving him a warning or begging for something more.

He makes an appreciative sound behind his throat and presses his mouth on your skin timidly, his touch barely there. “I missed you saying my name like that so much,” he says, running his lips on your cheek. “It always sounds so airy, like just saying it gets you hot and bothered.”

You gulp down, processing his words. Eunseok just crossed a line saying that to you. And if you reply to him with what you have in mind, you’ll cross another. Then you’ll be playing a dangerous game, toying with the limits of your just recovered friendship and with the relationship he’s in. You’ve been here before and it did not go well for either of you. Chances are it won’t have a better outcome this time.

But it just feels so good… Would it really be so bad to cross just another teeny tiny line?

“You always get me hot and bothered,” you admit, feeling your chest constrict with guilt and desire.

Deep down you know this is wrong, you know Eunseok knows this is wrong. He has a girlfriend. He was talking to her barely ten minutes ago. Your friendship was just secured a few moments ago. You can’t do this. Whatever this is, you can’t go through with it. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be safe. It wouldn’t be wise.

The tension stretches whilst Eunseok doesn’t respond to you immediately. He remains silent for a beat, and then another one, and you’re about to retract your words, when he chuckles, blowing air on your face.

“I know, baby,” he says, the pet name and the way he says it going straight to your core.  You decide to throw all caution out the window. You can’t go back now. Not anymore. To be honest, you could never deny him again.

He slides a hand down your body, his fingers brushing your clavicle and shoulder, then going to your back to skim over your spine. It trails lower until it squeezes your waist and pulls you more into him, making your bodies impossibly closer. “I felt that shiver, too, you know? I always feel so good when I’m close to you. It’s a big problem.”

You let him feel you up, fisting the front of his t-shirt on your hands while you try to remain calm. You’re frozen in place and completely at his mercy. You’ll give him everything he wants from you. You’re his for the taking. You always were.

His mouth brushes against the corner of your lips and you tilt your head up to preen closer to the touch, trying to draw out the feeling of his lips so close to yours for as long as possible.

Eunseok presses a kiss there and his hand glides under your top to feel the warm skin of your lower back. “When I was younger, I always had a boner whenever you so much as looked my way. I jerked off so many times thinking about you,” he reveals, careful eyes watching your reaction to his words. “I still do.”

You choke at the last piece of information, mind reeling with it. He used to touch himself to the thought of you. He still does it now. You wonder how he looks while he does it — how he sounds, how much precum he lets gather at the tip of his cock before touching it, how fast he cums. Almost all air leaves your lungs whilst you think about it.

“Really?” You ask, voice faltering. “Even after everything?”

He nods. “Even after everything. Even now. I can’t get you out of my head.” His fingers start to draw figure eights on your back. “I had to occupy myself with so many things to forget you. I tried so hard, but it was no use.”

Your heartbeat is wild and you’re trembling constantly now. But Eunseok doesn’t seem to care. He just pulls you closer and touches you more, making it impossible for you to stop shivering.

“Me too,” you confess, hands sliding up to the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t get over you. Over us. I still think about it all the time.”

“Yeah? What do you think about, baby?” He asks, putting his face in the crook between your neck and shoulder.

Your desire gathers between your legs and pools on your underwear so much it starts to feel uncomfortable. You need to take it off of you. You need him to take it off of you. You need him.

“I think about when we used to have fun together,” you say, wrapping your arms over his back.

“Oh,” he utters, descending both of his hands to fit them on your back pockets, squeezing your ass and flattening you against him, his hard-on nestled inside his jeans pressing against your pants’ crotch. It feels amazing. “You think about something like this?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, shifting your hips up to feel more of him. “When I touch myself, I always think about that.”

He releases a breath and drops a kiss on your neck, squeezing you more against him. “What more do you think about?”

“Your pretty cock,” you whisper, running a hand through his hair. “I think about how I used to suck it off and bounce on it. I miss it so much.”

“Oh shit, Y/N,” he groans, pelvis pulling back just to push forwards again, creating delicious friction between you. You feel dizzy with desire and you can only hope he feels the same way.

“Thinking about you always gets me so wet. I’m dripping by the time I’m finished,” you mutter, then you move your lips to his ear, preparing yourself to deal your final blow. “I’m so fucking wet for you right now, Seok.”

It’s Eunseok that shivers this time.

“Fuck, I wanna see that,” he says, a hand snaking in between your legs, cupping your sex over your pants. “I wanna feel it. Can I, baby?”

“Please,” you beg, pulling his face down by his collar until his forehead is pressed against yours again. “I need you so bad. You have no idea.”

“You got me, baby,” he whispers. “You got me.” And then he’s diving in to kiss you.

Eunseok kisses you like he’s claiming you and you kiss him back like you can’t bear spending another moment without his lips touching yours. It’s messy and sloppy, your mouths and tongues trying to suck and lick anything you’re able to reach, your teeth clenching together and biting sensitive skin. Each time one of you pulls back, the other moves forward again to connect your lips.

Kissing like this shows you just how much you wasted time not doing what you wanted. You could’ve been doing this for ages, you could be experienced professionals about how to make each other feel good. You could’ve been loving each other this close and this deeply instead of avoiding your feelings. God, you were so stupid for the longest time.

You’re completely out of breath once Eunseok’s lips slip down to kiss your neck, making you moan and shiver. Then he’s pushing you up until you land on the top of the dresser and you’re glad you have something to support yourself because your legs were about to give out at any moment.

He puts his body in between your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the dresser until he can roll his hips against yours again. You moan in unison and his hands squeeze your thighs whilst he resumes attacking your neck with his mouth.

“I thought about this so much,” you say, grinding on him. “Wishing we could do this all the time.” You pull on his hair until he’s looking at you again. “I always wanted you, Eunseok. Always.”

“I did, too,” he replies, hands slipping under your top to feel your bare skin, thumbs pressing on your sides.

You slide a hand down his stomach to find his belt, pulling on the buckle to unfasten it. Once you’re done, you pull it from his jeans quickly and throw it on the floor. “That’s not the only thing. What I’m trying to say is—”

The air is pulled from your lungs when Eunseok picks you up again and tosses you on your bed, crawling right up to your body until he’s hovering above you. The manhandling gets you light-headed and his hands coming up to cup your breasts empties your brain completely. 

You can’t remember what you were saying. Your focus just zeros in on the way he’s ravishing you.

“Y/N,” he whispers while kissing your jaw.

“Yes?” You say, still dazed.

He moves his hand down to the button of your jeans, toying with it for a moment before pulling it out of its loop and drawing your zipper down. His hands skim on the waistband of your panties and you groan, feeling the heat of his fingertips so close to where you most want him.

“What you’re trying to say is?” He asks, tone light and fun, clearly teasing you for your dazed state for the past minute.

Your brain awakes again and you squeeze his arms, remembering what you were about to confess. “Right. What I’m trying to say is—”

Eunseok sucks on your pulse point and you groan, turned on and frustrated. You know he’ll just keep fogging your mind further until you are a blabbering mess. And although you’re not opposed to that, you really need a moment to catch your breath so you can communicate with him properly. After that, you can do what you both are clearly desperate to do.

“Wait,” you whisper, pushing on his shoulders. “I need a second.”

He pulls back slightly and looks at you, watching your chest heave with each breath you take. “You want to stop?”

You shake your head immediately and press your elbows to the mattress, supporting your head up to look at him. “No. I just need to tell you something.”

His fingers dig on your waist. “Sure, baby. What is it?”

You sigh, moving a hand to his chest and trying to make the words in your brain get out of your mouth. “What I’m trying to say is—” The words get stuck in your throat, a new wave of sudden sensibility hitting you right in the chest, impending them from coming out. You feel you’re about to sob again. “Fuck, I’m saying that I—”

The letters are right there, resting on the tip of your tongue, but they just refuse to get out. I love you, you wanna say. I love you, you wanna scream. I love you, I love you, I love you. That’s all you think about. Three little words that have been swimming inside you for as long as you remember. You waited your whole life to say that to him and now that you’re desperate to say it, your voice fails you, your fear taking over your mind, new tears welling up on your throat.

Eunseok watches you expectantly, just waiting. He’s patient with you, like he is most of the time. His eyes show that he knows what you’re going to say, but also that he badly needs to hear it, probably just as much as you need to tell him. It gives you the strength to push through your last restraints.

You take another shuddering breath and lock your eyes with his. “Seok, I lo—”

Then a sudden sound makes you both jump and he pulls back from you as you sit up on the bed. It takes a second to identify what it is, but the realization downs you both at the same time, your heads tilting together to look at the origin of the noise. It’s Eunseok’s ringtone accompanied by his phone vibrating on your bedside table. He’s receiving a call. And you don’t have to look at his screen to see who the caller is. You know it’s Sian. The woman he just cheated on with you.

Eunseok scurries down the bed to pick up his phone, turning his volume all the way down until the only sign of his girlfriend calling him is the picture glowing under her name on his screen. Then he puts the device into his pants’s pocket and stares at the wall in front of him. His back is turned to you and his shoulders are stiff whilst his phone screen still lights up inside his back pocket until it stills. But barely two seconds later it starts flashing again and you know Sian won’t stop calling until he picks up.

You just fucked up. Majorly so. 

Hurting each other in the midst of your confusing feelings was all you’ve ever done in your life. The sting burned like hell, but it was your way, your uncomfortable comfort zone, something you’ve gotten used to. Upsetting and harmful, but still familiar, still you two. But hurting another person because of it — someone who has nothing to do with your shit, who is a good person above and all? That was a whole new level of dark and twisted.

You sigh, extremely disappointed with yourself, and run your hands through your hair. You knew you were a bad person, but apparently you never thought it would get to this extent. And now here you are.

What pulls you from the bed and puts you on your feet is Eunseok complete stillness. He’s quiet until his phone stops ringing for the third time, probably taking his girlfriend to voicemail. And he remains quiet when it starts to ring again. You get up to comfort him, to put a hand on his shoulder, because you can’t take seeing him hurt by something that is obviously your fault.

You were the one who held back your feelings. You were the one who made him confused. You were the one that confronted him, screamed and cried. You let him hug you, leaned into his arms, shivered and whispered his name like a prayer. You teased him, tempted him, made him cheat. Eunseok isn’t guilty of any of this, you are. It’s your responsibility to take.

You get off the bed and walk towards him. “Seok,” you say, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder.

However, Eunseok flinches away from you, instantly springing back to life and starting to zip up his pants again. You pull your hand back to rest it against your chest, clenching it into a fist and holding your wrist with your other hand.

“I think I should go,” he says to the wall.

You take a step back and sigh. Guilt, shame, fear and rejection pull on your heartstrings, making your chest tight. You don’t have the energy nor the audacity to ask him to stay. Not after what you’ve just done.

“Okay,” you say in a small voice.

Eunseok turns to you, but his eyes look at a distant point at your bedroom wall. “I think we shouldn’t see each other for a while.”

You gulp down the tears swelling on your throat and nod. “Okay.”

He finally looks at you, eyes heavy with remorse. “I just need some time and space, Y/N.”

“Sure, I’ll give them to you,” you say, plastering a fake smile on your face, trying to comfort him despite falling apart inside. ”Whatever you need, Seok.”

“Thank you,” he sighs.

Then he’s back to recomposing himself and collecting some of his things left on the floor and you just stay there, watching him until he’s done. On his way out of your room, he brushes past you and stops. You hold your breath as he gets close and presses his lips to your temple.

“Bye, Y/N-ie,” he whispers over your skin.

You close your eyes and whisper back, “Bye, Seokie.”

Then he exits, hurried steps following down your house hallway. You hear him quickly put on his shoes at the hall and a small beat of silence just before he opens the door. Then the lock clicks open, a gust of wind whistles through it and you know he’s out, the automatic alarm of the door locking it closed, leaving you all alone again.

You fall to the floor, legs too weak to hold the heavy weight on your heart, and look up to the pegboard over your dresser, filled with trinkets and many pictures — pictures of you and Eunseok together.

There’s one of you as five-year-olds at the playground you met and one of you behind Eunseok’s solar system mock up he did for a science fair when you were eight. There’s one of you at twelve playing a shooting game at an arcade and another of you when you skipped class to spend a day at the beach at fourteen. There’s another one of you working together at a part-time job in a cafe when you were sixteen and even a selfie from one of your many movie nights at seventeen. There’s one of you at a burger place when you were eighteen, looking at each other and laughing.

And the last one is just of Eunseok, taken a year back, when things were already too messy in between you. In the image, he’s as handsome as ever, looking down to write something on a notepad, his hair swept back and his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. You remember the distance between his frames and his eyes made you focus on his eyelashes, just like that other time, and that a stirring on your chest made you snap the photo silently and keep it to yourself.

Looking at all of your sacred memories with him, you can’t stop the tears from falling down your face, afraid you just lost the one constant in your life forever.

author's note: Don't hate me, hate Song Eunseok who inspired me to write this. If you want a part of two, comments and asks are welcomed so I'm sure you guys actually like this. Thank you for reading, as always!

[hyunjinsmuze]

peace offering

warnings: kissing that’s it

pairing: reader x leeknow

summary: Falling for your best friend’s friend was never the plan

words: 1.4k

You’d known Seungmin for what felt like your whole life. From scraped knees on playgrounds to half-asleep FaceTime calls across time zones, your friendship had survived every phase: awkward middle school, different high schools, his sudden debut with Stray Kids. Even when the world started to know him as an idol, he still answered your calls, still sent you stupid memes at 3 a.m., still called you “dummy” with all the affection in the world.

It was through him that you’d met the rest of the group slowly, over time. First Bang Chan, always polite and older-brotherly. Then Han and Felix during one of their chaotic late-night takeout runs. Lee Know, had been one of the last. Quiet. Dry. Mysterious. You hadn’t known what to make of him at first he didn’t smile much, didn’t joke around with you the way the others did. But Seungmin assured you that was just Minho’s way. “He’s secretly soft,” Seungmin told you once.

You weren’t sure you believed that. But he had always been respectful. Quietly attentive. He never ignored you, but he didn’t seek you out either.

You chalked it up to him being introverted. Nothing more.

But Minho had his own perspective.

———

Minho didn’t mean to stare. He didn’t even realize he was doing it half the time. But whenever you were around laughing too hard at one of Seungmin’s bad jokes, or sitting cross-legged on the floor eating chips like the dorm was your second home something in Minho’s chest shifted.

He wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe it was the way you always remembered what people liked, always brought his favorite coffee when you visited. Maybe it was the way you never pushed, never pried. You treated him like a person, not an idol.

But he knew one thing: it was a problem.

Because you were Seungmin’s best friend. And Minho didn’t talk about feelings. Not even to himself.

is she seeing anyone?”

The words came out sharp, awkward. Minho hated how stiff they sounded, like he was casually asking about the weather.

Seungmin blinked at him, holding a spoon halfway to his mouth. “What?”

Minho looked away, jaw tense. “Y/N. Are they… with anyone?”

There was a beat of silence. Seungmin dropped the spoon into the bowl with a clink, a slow smirk crawling across his face.

“Oh?” he said, dragging out the word obnoxiously. “So that’s what this is.”

Minho scowled. “I’m just asking.”

“No, no, you’re not just asking.”Seungmin leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand like he was about to watch the most entertaining drama of the year. “You have feelings for her.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

Minho stood up so fast the chair screeched. “Forget it.”

Seungmin laughed. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. But hey we’re having a movie night tonight, remember? Me and Y/N. You’re gonna be here, right?”

Minho narrowed his eyes. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Seungmin said innocently. “I’m just saying. You could join us. Or, you know… I could invite her over early.”

Minho looked murderous.

Seungmin held up his hands, still grinning. “Okay, okay! No matchmaking. I get it.

But Minho knew that look. seungmin being the joker he is had something planned.

———

You arrived at the dorm in your comfiest hoodie, arms full of snacks.

“Movie night!” Seungmin called from the kitchen, already rummaging for bowls.

You plopped down on the couch, setting up the candy in a neat line. “I brought the good kind.”

Seungmin gave you a thumbs-up. “You’re the best.”

You didn’t see Minho that night. Seungmin said he was out with Hyunjin and would probably be back late. You tried not to be disappointed not that you cared, really. Just... you thought it would’ve been fun to have everyone there.

it wasn’t long later when Seungmin nudged you.

“Hey, could you bring one of the chocolates up to Minho’s room? He just got back, and he’s being a little drama queen.”

You snorted. “Sure. Want me to toss it at his head?”

“Yes. But also, maybe don’t. He’s in a mood.”

You grabbed a piece of chocolate and padded down the hall, knocking lightly on Minho’s door.

He didn’t answer, but it was slightly open. You pushed gently.

He was sitting on his bed, hoodie half-on, hair a little messy from the wind outside. His eyes met yours sharp, unreadable — but softened slightly when he saw what you were holding.

“Peace offering from Seungmin,” you said, stepping inside.

Minho took it without a word and moved over slightly on the bed, a silent invitation.

You sat.

Silence stretched between you, comfortable but tense at the edges.

“You okay?” you asked finally, watching him out of the corner of your eye.

He shrugged. “Just tired.”

You nodded, eyes scanning the room. “I missed you earlier.”

you don’t know why the words came out of your mouth, maybe it was the fact that you’ve had these unspoken feelings for minho swirling around inside your mind for months, or maybe it was the way he was looking at you right now. you didn’t know but it felt right.

He looked at you then, like that meant more than you intended. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not a full dorm experience without your sarcastic comments.”

Something flickered in his expression — something softer than usual. “You like those?”

You turned to him, head tilted. “I like you, Minho.”

The silence after that was heavier.

Then, slowly, carefully, Minho reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered a moment too long.

And before either of you could second-guess it the space between you disappeared.

His lips were warm, a little hesitant. Yours moved instinctively, matching his pace, his rhythm. His hand found your waist, pulling you in. You weren’t sure who deepened the kiss, but suddenly it wasn’t so soft anymore. His breath hitched as you leaned into him, mouths moving like you'd done this a thousand times.

You felt him smile against your lips. Just barely.

And then teeth, tongue, breathless whimpers. You tugged lightly at the collar of his hoodie, and he pulled you closer, as if he’d wanted this forever and just didn’t know how to ask…

[woncheolisms]

nervous. (kwon soonyoung x reader)

word count: 1019

warnings: idol!hoshi, gn!reader, fluff, literally nothing else it’s just fluff and comfort

taglist is open // masterlist

Kwon Soonyong thinks he is fairly confident.

Sure, he is introverted. He gets quiet around new people. It takes him a second to come out of his shell. But he thinks he has improved a lot over the years. Especially being in his line of work, he often has to overcome his shyness and present a confident exterior. He thinks he does a pretty good job. The fans all love his personality. Lively, energetic, never stopping. Always unpredictable, always there.

He remembers being sick while filming, yet still managing to put on a show. He worries about content, even though he shouldn’t. He always seems to deliver. Seungkwan makes fun of him sometimes, accusing him of hogging screen time, but he knows all his members have the same concerns. They always want to give it their all when they are working.

It’s no surprise to Soonyoung that he freezes when he meets you for the first time. You are there with an event photographer, and from what he can gather, you are serving as the assistant. He feels his usual shyness, bowing respectfully, engaging in meaningless small talk. He can’t help but notice how bright your eyes are, and how the light hits your cheekbone just right.

You are carrying a black, cushioned box, and Soonyoung immediately offers to carry it for you. You protest but he insists, and eventually he wins. He listens as you talk about the schedule a little bit while walking to the set. He had kind of tuned out his manager that morning when he went over the same details, but he listens to you intently, hanging on to your every word. Your voice is nice. It’s light and fresh. He can’t explain why it makes him perk up a bit, hearing you talk. He nods along, staying quieter than his usual idol persona. Nothing new to him. He is often closed off a bit around people he hasn’t met before.

But on stage, oh there's no comparison. Soonyoung knows that’s where he shines the most. He’s the performance team leader for a reason. He not only feels that it is his responsibility to keep the crowd’s energy up, but he is also confident that this is something he can excel at. It’s his strongest talent, being a performer, an entertainer. That’s his playground.

It’s their fourth show of the new tour. He has gone through this setlist thrice already, so it is familiar to him now. He remembers how he had invited you to attend this show. He had taken your details and gone over them with his manager to make sure you didn’t face any trouble.

(It had also been a convenient way to get your number, but you didn’t need to know that.)

Over the next week, he finds himself giggling over your text conversations. You are quick witted, a lot bolder over text, and Soonyoung can’t help when he feels a grin creep up on him, so wide in nearly bursts past his cheeks. He feels like he’s in high school, the cliché giddy feeling taking over him as he talks to you for hours and hours a day, cheeks flaming and ears burning hot when you flirt with him. He flirts right back, feeding off your energy. You have a way about you, as if slowly coaxing Soonyoung out of his initial shyness. It doesn’t take all that long for him to be completely filter-less around you.

You had texted just that morning, wishing him good luck for the show and telling him you couldn’t wait to see him perform live. So he knows now that you are there. He adjusts his earpiece slightly, wondering why it feels a little too uncomfortable in his ear today. He listens as the crowd outside sings along to whatever is playing on the screens. His fingers fiddle with the microphone in his hand. As his members gather around him and Joshua offers to do the pre-show pep talk, Soonyoung feels his mouth dry up. It makes him pause for a second.

Is he….. nervous?

No, it can’t be. Soonyoung doesn’t get nervous. He gets excited. This is his time. This is his crowd to control. He is one hundred percent in his element. He will walk out on that stage, and he will deliver a great show for every person that came to see them tonight. Like he always does. This isn’t new. Nothing is different.

So why does it feel different? Why can he detect the gentle thrum in his veins getting stronger, the blood rushing in his ears getting louder, and his heart hammering a little too hard against his chest? He remembers your excited expression, promising you will be at this show, and he imagines you standing up in your seat, watching as the music slowly swells, anticipating the first song. Soonyoung knows immediately.

It’s you. You’re making him nervous in the one thing he has never felt nervous about. He almost laughs as he gets into position around the other guys. He knows he likes you, is almost infatuated with you. But god, did you really affect him that much?

It sure seems like it.

Mingyu is standing opposite to him as they wait for the stage to part and reveal them to their audience. He gives Soonyoung a questioning look when he sees the smile on his friend’s face, and it only makes Soonyoung grin wider.

“I’m pumped.”

Realisation dawns on Mingyu’s face and he laughs a bit. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

Soonyoung only winks back in response. Mingyu laughs some more. The nerves are still humming right under his skin, like millions of insects just beneath the surface. His ears are roaring, only exacerbated by the cheers of the crowd right before him.

But if Hoshi is one thing, he is resilient. And when he steps out on that stage to the rising volume of the music and the explosion of applause, knowing exactly where your eyes are directed in that very moment, he can’t help but grin.

He’s about to give the performance of a lifetime.

[moonchild-in-blue]

I'll never not find supremely funny the fact that Tumblr remains the only social media that is "actually" social. The place where all the weirdos and introverts and mentally ill and severely associal people are.

Because everything else is just a "look at this photograph" type thing (read: 30 second hyper stimulating videos of nothing burguer) OR "I know exactly when you saw my message and you MUST reply IMMEDIATELY or else".

It's very reaction-based, rather than meaningful and continuous engagement with others. There's no back and forth. But here we're all doing our thing, being weird and anonymous and unfiltered about whatever it is, parallel playing on the dash like it's another day at the playground.

And someone can go "ooh let's play knights" and others will be doing mud cakes, or playing catch, and others are just quietly reading a book, or trading cards, or doing personality quizzes, or sharing earbuds. And there's collective snack time where we all consume the same thing, and sometimes there's a new fun game for everyone, and it's nice.

[krazyyyyyy]

Forever Longing Solivan Brugmansia /Reader

Synopsis: A small glimpse into Sol's elementary life, where he abruptly meets the single most important person in his life...You

Warnings: Mentions of violence

Words: 2553

Notes: Don't know how many more of these I'll write, but I'm hoping to get around three more done if not a few more.

Hope you enjoy this short story <3

Children’s happy laughter echoed loudly throughout the playground, as they began to spill out of the school building; marking the beginning of their cherished recess time. Kids ran freely playing around with friends, swinging giddily on the swing sets, and continuously going up and down the slide.

Well, all the kids but one…

A young, small, and quiet Solivan stood far away from the other kids, staring at the ground at his feet, avoiding any eye contact with anybody within the area. He knew he didn’t fit in with the others, given his introverted nature, he was considered an outcast amongst his classmates. People tended to overlook him, barely acknowledging his presence even when they were standing right next to him.

He was used to it, though…. He had his drawing supplies and stuffed animals, the only things that really made him feel anything close to happiness. The stuffed animals would never judge him, and, they’d always be around to listen to him when he needed it, an idiosyncratic concept to him growing up in a loveless household.

A soft tap on his shoulder causes him to lift his amber gaze from the ground and into the familiar brown orbs of his teacher, Mrs. Baker. A woman with a skinny frame and curly auburn hair that just slightly exceeded her shoulders. It took everything within him not to scoff at her arrival. She was keen on pushing him towards being more sociable with the other kids, a goal that would always fail in his favor. So why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

 She crouched down to his height and spoke to him in her usual soft and steady voice, “Solivan, Why don’t you play with the others today? It seems they're playing a little game of freeze tag, doesn’t that sound like fun?” 

Solivan spared a short glance toward where the kids were running wildly at each other, while some others stayed frozen in place, showing signs of annoyance at being frozen; he retracted his gaze back to the ground shaking his head, mumbling a small “No”

Mrs. Baker smiled understandingly at the timid young boy before her, “I know it might seem scary, but give it a chance, you might like it more than you think.” She attempted one last time to try to convince the boy to open up, even if it was just a little.

The boy remained silent, having lost interest in the conversation completely and hoping that his teacher would simply give up and leave him alone for the rest of the recess period.

Thankfully, it seemed fate was on his side, as he heard his teacher sigh next to him before standing up and walking away to a different part of the playground to supervise a group of rather exuberant children. Leaving him alone at last.

The little raven-haired boy sat on the ground, back pressed against the steel fence that separated the playground from the busy streets that lay not far behind. Settling down, Sol pulled out a small sketchpad from his back pocket; a notebook that was filled page to page in his numerous doodles, which he usually did during class time to pass the time.

Pulling out a pencil, Sol began to doodle, head buried in the notebook; heavily embarked on the mini sketches that required his utmost attention. After a while, he finally cranes his head back to admire his work; his sketch was that of a small horse with a small sketched figure of him seated cheerfully on its back.

He beamed at the drawing, proud of his work. While marveling at the sketch, the notepad is quickly ripped from his grasp. Startled and confused, Sol snaps his head up to look at the culprits. Standing above him, were three kids, obviously much older than he was, possibly four grades above him.

Sol was quick to spring up to his feet to try to get the notebook back, but to no avail, as the blond boy who held the item towered over him. He held the sketchbook high above his head, so even if the little boy tried to jump for it, it would prove pointless in the end

“Give it back!” Sol shouted at the kids as he continued to try to reach for what he considered to be one of his only sources of comfort. All three of the boys laughed at him, “Aww, is the little weirdo gonna cry.” a boy with red hair teased, pointing at him.

“You drew yourself riding a horse? What are you, some kind of girl?” The blond boy jokingly flipped through the pages of the book, briefly observing its contents.

“Stop it!” When Sol tried to reach for his sketchbook once again, the blond boy laughed, before tossing the book over to another boy; then that boy proceeded to also flip through the book and laugh before also tossing it to the next boy. Sol found himself playing in this miserable game of monkey in the middle; a game where he could only watch as his book flew through the air above him, out of reach, with no hopes of ever reaching it.

Eventually, Sol got the courage to defend himself from these bullies, and with all the strength he could muster with his tiny form, he tried to shove the bully who had the sketchbook in his possession. But, the shove proved unhelpful, as the bully didn’t even move an inch.

Sol could barely catch his breath before he was harshly shoved to the ground. A sharp pain pulsed through his body as his back was met with the hard ground; Sol opened his eyes to notice that his sketchbook had fallen next to his body, the bully had more than likely dropped it in outrage at Sol’s sudden rebuke. Sol swiftly snatched the book off the ground and held it close to his chest, shielding it from the bullies.

Sol lay on the ground in a fetal position, with his back facing his bullies, arms still tightly wrapped around his sketchbook. There was a sudden sharp pain on his side as a bully directed a fierce kick toward the young boy; another boy directed a kick, of similar intensity, toward his other side, leaving the little boy only to whimper in pain.

The group of bullies continued to relentlessly kick the defenseless boy, not showing any hint of mercy toward him. Tears ran down Sol’s cheeks as he could only endure the endless kicks that the bullies threw at him. He closed his eyes and hoped the boys would soon grow bored with this and walk away, or maybe a teacher would notice this assault and interfere.

It felt like an eternity that the kicking would continue, he almost thought it would never end…

Until a loud voice rang out and suddenly the kick stopped.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Sol heard the unknown voice shout at the group of boys. He peeked from his position to glance at where the shouting came from; upon opening his eyes, he was met with his saviors back facing him as they spread their arms out wide to shield him away from the sight of the bullies.

“Get outta the way Pipsqueak! Or you're gonna be next!” He heard one of the bullies shout at the person before him. Sol noticed the stranger's visible shakiness as they stayed rooted in their spot in front of him; they were just as scared of these bullies as he was, yet they still chose to throw themselves in the middle just to protect him. He felt a surge of admiration for the stranger; this had been the first and only time someone stood up for him… his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

“No! I-I won't l-let you!” The stranger's words came out shuddered and breathy as if they were holding back tears. Luckily, their voice had been loud enough to possibly draw the attention of others nearby.

The twisted grins on the bullies' faces faded at the realization, and they looked around the area to see if anyone had caught the drift of what was happening.

“Shit!”  Was the last thing Sol heard from them, followed by the frantic pattering of feet in the grass as the bullies quickly fled the scene. Leaving behind two frightened kids as a result. 

Sol, who was still lying on the ground, breathed heavily, the fear coursing through his veins still running wild. He flinched when a blurry object suddenly came into his vision. As his vision slowly cleared, he noticed that the object was the outstretched hand of his savior; they looked down at him with a concerned expression, tears still lingering in the corner of their eyes.

Hesitantly, Sol took the hand, which helped pull him to his feet. He stumbled a bit but managed to regain his balance with a bit of effort and help from the person next to him.

“Are you okay?” The stranger asked him, their voice a bit hoarse from all the yelling yet still holding a subtle gentleness to it. Sol looked at them for a second, before shyly shifting his gaze off somewhere else and slightly nodding his head.

They smiled, their gaze landing on the item that Sol continued to hold tightly to his chest. “What’s that?” They pointed out the sketchbook, which, unknowingly to them, had caused the whole ruckus that just happened moments ago.

“... It’s my sketchbook,” Sol murmured under his breath, keeping his gaze away from the person in front of him. He never did well talking to people, never mind kids his age, this person wouldn’t be any different.

Their eyes lit up as he spoke, “You draw?! I wanna see it! Can I see pretty, please?!”

 Sol was taken aback by their sudden interest in his sketchbook, his eyes were blown wide at them; he had never shown anyone his work before, nor had anyone ever asked to see it… this person was achieving a lot of firsts for him. He supposed he could show them, considering they had just saved him from a harsh beating.

“Umm… Okay.” Sol pulled the sketchbook from where it rested on his chest to hold it out between him and the stranger. He slowly navigated through the pages, properly allowing the person next to him to take in each piece of art. They were a bundle of excitement, commenting excitedly on almost every single little doodle in the book; it brought a small smile to Sol’s face, knowing that someone enjoyed his drawings just as much as he did.

“These are so good! You're so talented! Do you think maybe you can draw me something?” Sol felt his cheeks flush with an odd, unfamiliar warmth. They wanted him to draw something for them. Him? Out of all the people they could have asked? They wanted him to draw for them…

He fidgeted with the pages of the notebook in his hands, keeping his eyes glued to the ground, nervously. “Sure–”

“Wait! Before I forget, my name is Y/N!” They cheerfully cut him off, “What’s yours?” They talked a million words per second, which was a bit overwhelming, but Sol still found himself intrigued by them.

“My name is Solivan…” He spoke quietly, but loud enough for their newfound acquaintance to hear. “Solivan?” They tested his name out, “Well, Solivan from this day forward you are now my friend!” Sol stared at them dumbfounded. He never had a friend before, but didn’t think it would ever be this simple, yet here he was.

He didn’t get a chance to respond to their declaration when they continued to speak, “I’m thinking maybe a butterfly–No wait! A gecko… no…” They continued to list through a variety of animals, as Sol would stand and watch them in awe. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt some sort of connection to his new friend, it wasn’t unwelcome, but it was still strange.

“Oh, I got it! How about a dove? Mom says those are her favorite!” 

Sol raises an eyebrow at them.“Like the bird? Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” They cheer.

Sol only nods his head in response, but a smile remains on his face at their jubilation. He sees the opportunity to speak after your moment of triumph and takes it, “I-um… thank you… for helping me. Not many would’ve done the same.”

They shake their head at him with a smile,“ Don’t mention it. You needed help…so I helped!”, the sincerity in their tone set Sol at ease. He wondered if had truly been missing out. If other kids acted just like Y/N, then maybe talking to others wouldn’t be so bad.

A mature voice suddenly rang out through the playground, catching everyone's attention, “Kids, recess is over! Start lining up with your class!”

“Aww man!” The child next to Sol groans, “Just when we were having fun, too!”. If their definition of fun was getting nearly trampled by a couple of older students, then Sol supposes he had the time of his life… Not really, though, but meeting Y/N was a nice surprise.

Children from all around the playground started to depart, moving to their designated class lines. Y/N started to make their way toward their line before they stopped to turn around to look at Sol one more time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Solivan! Can’t wait to see the drawing!” And with that, the energetic second-grader gave him one last wave before running over to their class.

Sol gave them a little wave in return, watching as their figure got further and further away. It wasn’t long before he himself started making his way toward his own class, to continue the rest of his day. Of course, his attention wasn’t drawn toward that of his classwork, but rather that of the little dove drawing he spent the rest of the day drawing for that special someone he met.

~

Sol paid no mind as his art teacher rambled on and on about the importance of elements in art; his focus mainly on the small, worn-out sketch pad that lay open on his desk. He lazily drew his fingers along the delicate pencil marks of his old drawing from way back then.

Out of the drawings he had created during his entire childhood, that little dove that he drew for you in the second grade always held a special place in his heart. He remembers how bright your face lit up when he showed it to you the very next day; you insisted that he kept it in his sketchbook, under the circumstance that you get to view it anytime you want–which you would do on the daily.

He shifted his gaze from the paper to where you sat near the front of the classroom, trying your best not to fall asleep during the lecture. His heart ached for you to look at him the way you did when you were kids, now it was like he was a total stranger to you; another student who simply attended the same art class as you.

But with time, you’d eventually grow aware of his existence, you’d have too.

After all, you were his soulmate, just as he was yours.

[lanalace]

A Whisper Of Control - Part 2

{Chapter one}

Obsessive Caleb x Introvert Reader

Summary: Caleb, an extroverted prodigy born into privilege, has loved Y/n since they were children. Isolated by his intellect and unable to truly connect with others, he found an unexpected kindred spirit in her, an equally brilliant, introverted girl from a broken, loveless home. From the moment they met, he was irrevocably drawn to her. Accustomed to getting everything he wants, Caleb quietly vowed she would be no exception.

Warnings: Manipulation, SFW, Slow Burn

Word count: 3.8k 🍎🍏

Chapter Two

Caleb hadn't expected to hate him so quickly.

The intruder.

He hadn't missed the way the intruder's eyes had lingered on Y/n. That audacious grin, the casual confidence, the thinly veiled curiosity. Nick. Caleb hadn’t even bothered to commit the full name to memory, but the boy’s image was already cataloged and cross-referenced in his mind. A threat. An anomaly in his carefully constructed world.

He’d spent years cultivating Y/n. Watching. Learning. From the moment he’d seen her. A skinny, quiet child hunched over a book in the corner of a boisterous playground. He knew then. She was just like him. Too sharp for the mundane, too sensitive for the crudeness of typical childhood. The other kids had picked at her, teased her, made her feel small because she refused to be.

She was a brilliant, fragile thing. The world didn’t know how to handle that. But he did.

He’d inserted himself into her life with the precision of a surgeon. A kind word here, a shared silence there. Gentle redirections. Strategic absence followed by comforting presence. Over time, she learned to turn toward him without thinking. He was the calm in her storm, the one constant in a life that never stopped shifting.

‘This isn’t control.’ he told himself. ‘It isn’t care. Protection. Love, in its most devoted form.’

So when Nick had materialized, unexpected, uninvited, and entirely too curious, Caleb’s instincts flared. He caught the flicker in Y/n’s eyes, her surprise, then a faint, tentative interest. That spark of unfamiliarity, of something not him, was dangerous.

Y/n was emotionally underfed, socially stunted. Just as he’d intended. She couldn’t read subtext the way others did. She mistook attention for kindness, interest for connection. Someone like Nick, with his easy smiles and careless energy, could sidestep all the safeguards Caleb had built around her.

Even the name felt wrong coming out of her mouth.

She’d smiled when she said it so absently, like it meant nothing. But it had carved something cold and sharp through Caleb’s chest nonetheless. Not because she loved him. No, but because she could.

And that possibility was enough to set every nerve in his body on edge.

He didn’t show it. Not in his face. Not in his posture. His voice stayed smooth, his hands relaxed. But behind his eyes, something shifted. The warmth cooled. The calculation resumed.

He would eliminate the distraction, gently, subtly, without her even realizing it. Nick would fade into the background. Easily forgotten.

Because she was his. She just didn’t understand that yet.

And then she was staring at him.

The weight of her gaze lingered, uncertain, searching. She furrowed her brows slightly, hesitating, like she wasn’t sure if she’d heard him correctly. Caleb tilted his head, projecting practiced confusion.

And then, softly, she spoke.

“What did you just say?”

Not accusing. Just curious. A little cautious.

Caleb didn’t blink. Didn’t hesitate. He offered a small, easy smile—warm and harmless, the kind that always worked on her.

“I said I don’t know him.” he answered smoothly, letting out a sheepish little chuckle as if he were embarrassed by his own wandering thoughts. “His name sounded familiar. Sorry, sweetheart, I was just thinking out loud.”

Y/n blinked, thrown off by the ease of his response. “Oh.” Her brow creased. “I thought you said something else…”

“Are you hearing things now?” Caleb teased gently, pinching her cheek with light fingers, his voice soft and playful.

“Hey! Ow!” she complained, swatting at him. Her touch was half-hearted, more instinct than offense.

He dodged her swat easily, still laughing, and she kicked at his leg in retaliation. He let out a dramatic groan of mock pain, clutching his thigh as if she’d seriously wounded him.

“Serves you right.” she said, grinning. She stuck her tongue out at him like a child, like the girl he’d grown up with.

He gave her a look of mock betrayal, but he was already smiling. She was laughing now, open and unguarded, her earlier suspicion completely forgotten.

And just like that, the moment passed.

She let it go.

Of course she did. She always did.

Y/n wanted to trust him— needed to. The world was too chaotic, too cruel. He was her anchor, the one safe place she could always retreat to. All he had to do was plant a seed of doubt in her mind, and she would choose the comfort of his version over her own every time.

She didn’t realize how close she’d come to hearing the truth.

Not yet.

As they continued walking, Caleb studied her from the corner of his eye. Her face was lit faintly by the lamplight, and in the quiet between them, he could almost hear the soft rhythm of her thoughts. He wondered what she was thinking about. Nick, maybe. Or nothing at all. She was so easy to read when she was with him.

She trusted him completely.

That was the foundation of everything.

He reached out, brushing his hand lightly against hers as they passed under a cluster of trees, letting the gesture seem accidental. She didn’t pull away. Her fingers stayed near his, close enough to touch again.

That was enough, for now.

Behind his eyes, the calculations continued. A misstep wasn't failure. It was information. A lesson. A refinement of the next move.

She was still trusting.

Still his.

And that was all that mattered.

🍎🍏

Y/n fell into a routine faster than she expected. It wasn’t entirely her own; it moved with a rhythm Caleb seemed to have set for her, each moment gently guided by his quiet influence. He was always nearby, walking her to all of her classes, waiting outside the door before it ended, choosing the places they ate and studied. It felt like comfort. Familiar. Safe.

That afternoon, the lecture hall buzzed with a low thrum of overlapping voices, the scrape of chairs and the rustle of backpacks echoing off concrete walls. The lights above were too bright, the kind that made the whiteboard glare just enough to hurt her eyes. Y/n slipped into her usual seat near the back, third row from the end, near the wall, one of the quieter spots in the large, echoing room. Caleb had picked it for her. “Less attention up there.” he’d said.

She opened her notebook and stared down at the blank page, letting the ambient noise blur around her. Students filtered in slowly, in ones and twos, the kind of casual, confident movement Y/n had never quite mastered.

“Hey.” came a bright voice beside her, pulling her out of her daze. A girl dropped into the seat to her left, notebook in hand, perfume soft and floral. “I’m Sarah. We’ve got this class and literature together, I think?”

Y/n glanced at her, caught off guard. Sarah was effortlessly pretty in a deliberate way.  Gold hoops, glossy lips, and honey-blonde waves that looked like they had never seen a bad hair day. She wore a cream knit sweater that hugged her arms over her uniform shirt. Her nails were manicured in a pale blush color, the same shade as her lip gloss.

“Yeah… I think so.” Y/n replied quietly.

Sarah leaned back with an easy smile, twirling a pen between her fingers. “I keep meaning to say hi. You’re always with that guy, though. Caleb, right?”

Y/n stiffened slightly. “Yeah. We’ve known each other a long time.”

“He’s hard to miss.” Sarah said, laughing under her breath. “That whole tall, brooding, mysterious thing? It definitely works for him.”

Y/n gave a neutral hum in response, unsure what to say.

Sarah tilted her head, studying her. “Is he your boyfriend?”

The question was blunt, but her tone was light, just nosy enough to sound casual. Y/n hesitated, flipping her pen between her fingers, eyes back on the blank page in front of her.

“We’re close.” she said finally.

Sarah nodded like that explained everything. “That’s cool. You guys seem really… connected.” There was a hint of something behind her smile now, curiosity with an edge of calculation.

Y/n looked away.

When the professor entered and class began, Sarah didn’t stop trying. She whispered comments during the lecture. Half-jokes and little side notes and passed her perfectly highlighted notes across the desk with a pink sticky tab that read “for you :)” even though they were only fifteen minutes into the lecture. Her perfume lingered in the air, cloying and sweet.

“Do you want to study together sometime?” She asked as class ended, slipping her things into her designer tote. “There’s this café just off campus with great lattes. Quiet booths. Perfect for midterms.”

Y/n hesitated. “Maybe.” She said, unsure how to refuse.

They walked out together, the late afternoon sun flooding through the arched glass entryway of the building. The breeze outside smelled like cut grass and damp pavement.

Caleb was waiting.

He stood just a few feet from the steps, leaning against the low stone wall, arms folded, dark eyes already locked on her. His uniform pressed to perfection, his presence somehow both understated and commanding. A few students passing by gave him a second glance, but no one approached him. No one ever did.

Sarah’s step faltered beside Y/n. “Wow.” she breathed, voice just low enough. “He really waits for you?”

Y/n nodded.

As if on cue, Caleb pushed off the wall and approached them. The way he moved was quiet but deliberate, and Sarah visibly straightened as he neared, smoothing her hair with quick fingers.

“Hey, sweetheart.” he said, brushing a kiss to Y/n’s temple. His arm slid around her waist, casual but firm.

Sarah’s smile brightened. “Hi, Caleb. I’m Sarah—we were just in class together.”

Caleb gave her a single glance and a brief nod. “Nice to meet you.”

“I was telling Y/n we should study this weekend.” Sarah said, and Y/n felt the shift in tone. There was something coy behind it now, like a carefully placed hook.

Y/n opened her mouth to clarify she hadn’t actually agreed, but Caleb beat her to it.

“She’s pretty busy.” he said smoothly. “We’ve already made plans.”

Sarah’s expression flickered, just a flash, a twitch of her mouth but she recovered quickly. “Oh. Well, maybe another time.”

“Maybe.” Caleb echoed, his eyes steady on her, unreadable.

Sarah lingered half a second longer before giving a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “See you around, Y/n.”

When Sarah walked away, her perfume still lingering, Caleb’s hand slipped from Y/n’s waist to her lower back, guiding her gently as they began walking.

“She’s nice.” he said after a beat, his tone casual, almost distracted. “Friendly.”

Y/n glanced up at him, uncertain. “She invited me to study this weekend.”

“Did she?” He offered the smallest smile. “That’s sweet of her.”

There was no accusation in his voice, no tension. Just quiet amusement, like he was already several steps ahead of her.

Y/n hesitated. “I told her maybe.”

“Well,” he said lightly, “if you’d like me to come with you, I don’t mind. Just in case the place is too crowded for you to focus.”

Y/n frowned slightly. “I think I’ll be okay.”

Caleb gave a thoughtful hum. “Of course. Just… don’t feel like you have to say yes to everyone. People aren’t always as kind as they seem.”

She didn’t answer. The wind picked up around them, tugging at the hem of her sweater.

“I trust your instincts.” Caleb added after a pause, voice lower now, more intimate. “But if something feels off, you’ll tell me, won’t you?”

Y/n nodded slowly.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his touch warm and steady. 

Caleb walked beside her in silence, their steps measured, unhurried. The late afternoon sun slanted low, casting golden light through the trees and turning the quiet path toward the library into something hushed and distant, like a dream half-remembered. Y/n stayed close, her books pressed to her chest, the weight of them grounding her more than the conversation she already knew was coming.

As they reached the library steps, Caleb slowed and turned toward her. His expression was serene, his voice even. “I have a seminar after this. It might run a little long.”

She didn’t answer right away. He let the silence stretch just long enough before continuing.

“It’s better if you stay here until I’m done. It's closer than your place. Less of a walk after dark.” A pause, then, with the faintest curve to his mouth. “I’ve only got an hour, and then I’ll come get you. We’ll have dinner after.”

Y/n smiled and nodded, clutching her books tighter.

His gaze flicked briefly to the heavy stack in her arms, then returned to her face. “Find a spot upstairs. Somewhere near the windows. I don’t want you sitting alone by the doors.”

There was no edge to his words. Just care, folded neatly into instruction.

She nodded again, softer this time. “Alright.”

He stepped closer, gently brushing his fingers against her arm—not a grip, just contact. Measured.

 “I’ll see you soon.” He smiled so gently when he said it, had kissed her temple so tenderly, that it hadn’t felt like anything but affection. He watched her walk inside before he turned and headed back towards the direction of his classroom.

The library was nearly silent, the hush broken only by the occasional rustle of pages and the soft clack of keyboards. Y/n tucked herself into a secluded corner near the back, where the warm glow of a desk lamp cast amber shadows over her notes. Her laptop was open, surrounded by neatly organized textbooks, printouts, and a notebook filled with tightly packed handwriting, careful lines of logic, dense passages annotated in sharp, precise script.

She had been here for nearly an hour, lost in her work, her brow furrowed in focus. 

He hadn’t made it a request. But he’d smiled so gently when he said it, had kissed her temple so tenderly, that it hadn’t felt like anything but affection. And so Y/n stayed.

The campus library was large, but Nick spotted her almost immediately. He’d wandered in looking for a quiet space to write, his messenger bag slung low over one shoulder, headphones tucked around his neck. But the sight of her stopped him cold.

She was alone, her head bent, eyes narrowed in deep concentration. Her fingers moved quickly over the page, translating complex academic concepts into tidy, confident equations. The subject matter caught him off guard, a synthesis of computational theory and literary analysis, nuanced and rigorous. It wasn’t beginner work.

He hovered a moment longer than he meant to, watching her. She looked different like this, sharper, more alive. Her expression was serious, yet soft around the edges, the faintest crease between her brows betraying her intense focus. There was no sign of the girl who clung to Caleb’s arm, who flinched slightly whenever he entered a room. Just Y/n, alone and brilliant.

Finally, he approached, careful not to startle her.

“Hey.” he said, his voice low so as not to disturb the quiet. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Y/n looked up, blinking like she’d just surfaced from deep water. Her eyes flicked toward him, a little startled, but not unfriendly.

“Oh. Hi.” she said, brushing a hand through her hair. “I’m just… catching up on some things.”

Nick nodded, his gaze drifting briefly across her notes again. “That’s… not freshman-level work.”

She gave a faint, almost embarrassed smile. “It’s a cross-listed course. Caleb thought I could handle it.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Looks like you can. That’s impressive.”

She shrugged, but the compliment seemed to settle something in her shoulders, the tension there loosening just a bit.

“You mind if I sit?” he asked.

Y/n hesitated. Then she glanced at the seat beside her, an empty chair, perfectly ordinary, perfectly harmless.

“…Sure.” she said after a beat. “I don’t mind.”

Nick slid into the seat slowly, not too close. He didn’t say anything right away. He just leaned back, pulled out a notebook of his own, and opened to a blank page.

For a while, they worked in silence.

But under the table, Y/n’s phone vibrated once. A message from Caleb.

🍏Caleb🍎: Almost done. Don’t leave. I’m on my way.

She didn’t respond right away. She just read it, then quietly turned the phone over, face-down on the desk.

Nick caught the movement, his pen pausing for just a second. But he didn’t ask.

The quiet stretched, comfortable but fragile.

Ten mins passed quietly between them. Occasionally, Nick would glance over at her notes, brows raising slightly at the level of detail and the sharpness of her logic. She kept her head down for the most part, but something in the way he sat beside her-unintrusive, present—made it easier to breathe.

Nick set his pen down at one point and leaned slightly closer, voice low.

"So... Caleb."

Yn's hand stilled, mid-sentence. She didn't look up, but he saw the shift-the almost imperceptible tension in her spine.

"What about him?" she asked, trying to sound casual. It came out a little too neutral.

Nick tilted his head, as if weighing his words. "You two are... close."

Y/n gave a soft huff of breath. "We've known each other forever."

"That explains the familiarity." Nick said. "But not the... constant presence. He's always there, isn't he? It's not just a coincidence that you're always together."

Y/n's head snapped up. Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation replacing the earlier calm. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Nick raised his hands placatingly, a small, reassuring smile on his lips. "Hey, just an observation. I've seen him around campus. He's a big deal here. Everyone knows Caleb." He paused, his gaze softening, almost sympathetic. "And you seem to be... a bit of a shadow, sometimes."

The words struck Y/n like a cold slap. Her face flushed, and she felt a prickle of anger.

"I'm not a shadow and he's my friend. My best friend. He looks out for me." Her voice was tight, defensive, rising just a fraction above the library's quiet hum.

"I get that." Nick said, his voice still low, his gaze unwavering but gentle. "Loyalty's a good thing. But 'looking out for' and... 'managing' are different things, aren't they? He seems to have a lot of opinions about where you go, who you talk to. Even what classes you take." His eyes flicked to her complex notes, then back to her face. "That's pretty intense for just a friend."

Y/n slammed her pen down on the table, the sharp click echoing in the hushed room.

Heads turned. Her chest tightened with a mix of indignation and a terrible, familiar discomfort. "You don't know anything about our friendship." she hissed, her voice barely a whisper but laced with genuine fury. "You just met me five minutes ago Caleb's always been there for me. He knows me better than anyone. He helps me. He protects me." Her voice was tight, defensive, rising just a fraction above the library's quiet hum. She grabbed her books, her hands trembling slightly as she stacked them, a clear signal of her distress.

Nick’s smile faded. He saw the genuine hurt in her eyes, the sudden stiff set of her shoulders. The defensiveness wasn’t a pretense; she was truly upset. He'd misjudged.

“Hey, whoa, hold on!” he said quickly, his voice dropping, tinged with immediate regret. He put his hands up, a gesture of surrender. “I am so sorry. That was out of line. Completely. I shouldn’t have said that.” He leaned back in his chair, giving her space, his previous probing entirely gone. “I really didn’t mean to upset you. That was dumb of me.”

Y/n’s movements slowed, though her shoulders remained stiff. She didn't look at him, but she didn't push her chair back either.

Nick exhaled slowly. “Look, I just… I saw you working, and you were so focused. Seriously, that’s impressive stuff. And you looked so… free, almost. It just seemed like such a contrast to when you’re with him, and I just blurted out something stupid. No excuse, though. My bad.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “I really am sorry.”

The sincerity in his tone was undeniable. Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek, her anger warring with a surprising wave of relief that he wasn’t pushing, wasn't judging. She still felt raw, but the sharp edge of her fury began to dull.

“It’s fine.” she mumbled, not looking at him.

“No, it’s not.” Nick corrected gently. “And you have every right to be mad. He’s your friend, your best friend. That’s important. I shouldn’t have tried to… well, stir things up.” He offered a small, hesitant smile. “Can we just reset? My name’s Nick. And I think your work is amazing.”

Y/n finally looked up, her expression still wary, but a hint of something softening in her eyes. "Okay." she said, her voice a little softer now.

Nick grinned, relieved. He pulled a pen from his hoodie pocket and scribbled something quickly on a corner of his own notebook. He tore off the small piece of paper.

“Here.” he said, extending it to her. “This is my number. If you ever need a study buddy who doesn’t say stupid things, or just wants to talk about that cross-listed course without anyone making dumb assumptions, feel free to text.” He pushed the paper gently across the table toward her. “No pressure, though. Just… peace offering.”

Y/n stared at the small slip of paper. It felt light, insignificant, yet held the potential for something vast and unknown. She reached out, her fingers brushing his as she took it. The paper was still warm from his touch. She tucked it into the front pocket of her notebook, a small, secret gesture.

Just as she lifted her head, her gaze meeting Nick’s in a shared, fleeting moment of new connection, the library door opened with a soft whoosh of air.

Caleb stood in the doorway, framed by the bright light of the hallway. His dark eyes swept the room, pausing briefly on the distant tables, then moving to the secluded corner where Y/n sat. His gaze locked onto her, then slid, cold and assessing, to Nick.

{Chapter Three}

[pr0v1t4]

...hi phighting au community.. me and my friends have a new contribution (time to get bullied)

PHIGHTING! ACTOR AU

basically if phighting was just a tv series and the phighters are all actors playing the characters

by the way, the gear = name mechanism is part of the tv script. the demons in this au are gearless and have human names

cast + extra info under the cut

CAST:

LOST TEMPLE: sword/joseph, medkit/david, scythe/sue ellen, broker/rodney

PLAYGROUND: skateboard/kai, boombox/josh, coil/jayden

THIEVES' DEN: vinestaff/julia, shuriken/corey, slingshot/aiden, katana/kenneth

BLACKROCK: subspace/alex, hyperlaser/allen

(note: biografts are played by multiple actors)

MISC: zuka/neil, rocket/asher, banhammer/dante

SFOTH: firebrand/jean paul, darkheart/steve, windforce/edith, ghostwalker/lucian,venomshank/luther, icedagger/timothy, illumina/charles

CHARACTER INFO:

alex and david are best friends off set. in a blooper take, alex accidentally poked david's actual eye when filming the subspace and medkit eye scene. he repeatedly apologised to david and gave him an ice pack

joseph is an introvert that happened to get the role of an extroverted protagonist. he is sometimes overwhelmed by the amount of attention he recieves and finds it slightly pressuring to do his role

kenneth and neil are actual fathers with children back home. due to this, they tend to look after the younger actors in the studio and watch over them

they picked an actual hornless person to play hyperlaser. allen had his horns removed when he was a teen for medical reasons

they also picked an armless person to play zuka. however, rocket and scythe's prosthetics are just props attached to their actual arm

alex is one of the sweetest people ever even with his role as a self centered mad scientist

kenneth is a metalhead and a fan of hard rock, whereas allen likes 50s-60s hits and soft rock

kenneth uses a lot of modern slang, and people are surprised at how different he is from his role as katana. he was mainly picked for his physique

dante and sue ellen act a lot like their respective characters. they are very happy with their roles

julia, aiden and corey joke about kenneth being their other dad

unlike rocket and sword's friendship, joseph and asher have slight beef with each other off set due to joe having to take multiple takes of the same clip because of his struggle to play an extrovert. he was mainly picked for his identical appearance to sword

allen lets the others try out his helmet. it's really stuffy with it on, they often have to retake a longer clip multiple times since he starts fanning himself within barely five minutes. he also struggles a lot to keep a straight face, you can hear stifled laughter in his lines, especially when he has to say something comedic as hyperlaser

ppleas dont bulli.....

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

Logan: There are some kids on the playground, do you want to go and socialise?

Child Janus:... No.

Virgil: *WHEEZE*

Logan: Well, we tried.

Virgil: We're raising an introvert, omg!

[ang3lofdivinity]

❝𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧❞

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Relationship(s): Yan!Andy (Andrew) Graves x Fem!reader

Format: Headcanons + stories.

Genre: IMPLIED Smut + fluff + some angst(?)

Warnings: Consent mf, intimidation, SA from one of the wardens to the reader, masturbation (reader and Andy), Leyley isn't super overprotective, Reader is very naïve and too kind (they consider all friends), kidnapping, stalking, Andy is kinda turned on by the readers constant praise and nicknames for him, smoking, swearing, smut has been removed because.. the more I realize it I want this account to be decently fluff.

Andy is a very reserved person.

He's an introvert as per what his sister calls him.

And she's right.

He doesn't like being around others, he's pretty logical, he's also very calm.

But, what he doesn't know is how charming he is to others.

Hell, bunches of girls try and get with him, while Leyley obnoxiously tries to get rid of them all.

So, he's never really had a long term relationship with anyone aside his sister.

And over the years, he's managed to craft, a meticulously created one, a façade.

A mask he's worked on for years.

One that he knows will never crack.

But perhaps he got too confident.

Because when you came along, he was restraining himself practically from getting excited after the first time he saw you.

He saw you, being the new kid in class back when he was still in school at a young age before being trapped in that hellscape he called his home.

You were an extrovert it seemed, turning out to be the opposite. But, you still cared a lot about everything and everyone, you introduced yourself sweetly with something along the lines of..

"Good morning, I'm (____) (_____). If you need anything, I'll always be right here."

You were so calm, so pretty.. how could someone be so pretty?

You joined a bunch of after school activities, student council and such.

Although, you seemed a bit worried over something always every time he saw you.

He felt something within his stomach churn whenever he saw you though, not managing to gather enough courage to talk to you.

So, you had to initiate the contact.

You saw him, being all lonely..

That made you feel incredibly horrible, you were in that position yourself once too.

So, you approached him.

And his heart fluttered.

"Good evening.. you're Andrew Graves, right?" You inquired as you sat beside him at his lunch table as your friends immediately started whispering to each other.

"Oh- I- I'm Andrew Graves, yes.." he cringed at his own stuttering, but you didn't seem to mind.

"Why don't you come and sit at my table with my friends?" You invited him with a warm smile.

He felt butterflies in his stomach, a feeling he never had in a while..

"Are- you sure? They won't make fun of me?.." he asked, obviously worried.

"Of course not! If they do, we can have lunch together alone if you want!"

"..alright."

That was the day he became so clingy to you.

Usually, he's very cynical. But, for some reason with you.. he could feel that your actions were very genuine.

And that's what got him attached.

Along with your humor.

"I swear to fucking goddess if Miss Alta keeps telling me to not draw, I will—"

"Good morning, Miss Alta!" You exclaimed happily the moment your communications teacher stepped foot into the room.

He almost wheezed, letting out a giggle at his failed attempt to restrain himself. His expression turned into one filled with guilt and embarrassment, but before Miss Alta or any of the students spoke, you blurted out.

"Ah, Miss Alta, there's something wrong with the air conditioning. It keeps moving a bit and making that scraping noise." You semi-lied as you turned to Andrew and gave a more sincere smile before paying attention once more.

..you would just, lie for him like that..

Your smile could make him go crazy, it couldn't be compared to anything!! The way you cried, your tears streaming down your cheeks as you ran to him when you got hurt on the playground earlier- blue diamonds couldn't even compare to the richness of them, and the way you were very touchy..

You always held onto his hand, holding onto his shirt as you walked behind him anxiously, anytime when you got older and watched any horror movie and clang onto him.

That's when it all went to shit.

You had to leave the state.

THE STATE.

After you had just got settled after the last time where you moved here as a child!

He almost broke down, wanting to pour out all of his feelings as if it would change anything.

But it was official, and Leyley had him all to herself. It was like that for years.

He was all alone.

He felt empty.

He felt empty without you.

Like a part of his soul was torn from him.

And that stuck with him forever.

Some sort of dark, black tar over his heart made it feel disgusting and filthy.

But for the lonely part..

It wasn't like that for long.

When they grew older, he started dating someone after so long.

His (ex) girlfriend, Julia.

But eventually, that all ended when he got put into that quarantined building with Leyley.

She broke it off with him on one of those nights.

He sobbed about it, and Leyley didn't help.

But, that's when he got a strange phone call when Leyley was asleep and he was still up.

He was hesitant, but his gut told him to pick it up.

And that he did.

And that was one of the best decisions of his life.

"..Hello?" He spoke, his voice raspy. He was unsure of what telemarketer would be calling at this hour, and it couldn't possibly be someone he knew.

"Andrew?.. is this really you?!.."

That voice.. that voice instead changed his mind of this being some sort of telemarketer.. how? Because that’s your voice. After so many years, you had called him!

"..(____)?!" He yelped out, almost loud enough to wake LeyLey.

"Oh dear— I'm so glad I can hear your sweet voice again!!" You exclaimed, sounding like you were on the brink of tears.

All of those previous feelings he had for you back when you were still around, they all came back in a flurry, overwhelming him.

"(____), I'm.. how did you get this number?.." he wanted to ask you so much more, but that's all that came out at the moment.

"I heard about the quarantine you got into with your sister.. I'm so sorry. One of the wardens was kind enough to give me your number! I didn't have much time previously due to my work.. but, now I have and I'm so thankful!"

"..Good god it's so nice hearing your voice again, (____)" he mumbled, smiling as tears prickled at his eyes. There were so many words that wanted to spill out of his mouth, but nothing came out due to his own self restraint.

"I'm going to get you out of there! I promise! You and your sister!" You yelped out, happiness laced into your voice. You were zeal about this, you were going to get him and his sister out of here. Or at least try.

"Wait- aren't you worried about the wardens??? They've been keeping us here!" He responded back, biting on his thumb.

"Eh?? Nah! I'm sure! The warden seemed to like me, I'm sure I can persuade him somehow." For some reason, this didn't sit right with him..

"..." He went radio silent, this feeling akin to foreboding surging through him with the sense of anger as well. But, he swallowed down his frustration and took some deep breaths.

"Andy- Andrew?.. you there?" You tried to fix your mistake. You heard his sister call him by that nickname once- so you know it's at least somewhat gotta be sentimental for him.

"..you can call me Andy" he slowly spoke up.

"Are you sure?.."

"I'm.. sure. Call me Andy." It almost sounded like a demand..

"..Alright, Andy."

He doesn't even let his own sister call him that anymore, but he lets you do it with free reign.. strange.

"Now, would you like to talk for a bit?.. or should I get straight to work with the pla-"

"Talk!.. please. I just.. I missed you. I missed listening to your voice, I missed just being with you.." he blurted out, cutting you off. He put a hand over his mouth in response, his eyes wide and filled with shame.

"..."

"..."

"...."

"I'm sorry- that probably sounded weird.." he spoke up after a long moment of silence.

"Nono! Don't apologize, I missed hearing your voice too, hun." You spoke sweetly to him, a smile he couldn't see plastered on your face.

"..Hun?" Saying the word made him feel this warm, bubbling sensation within his chest. It made him want to indulge in it more..

"I'm not gonna use Andy all the time, darling!" You giggled happily, and that just made something within his stomach churn and twist.. something that has been dormant for years finally stir.

It made his knees go weak, his mouth go slightly agape as he failed to make any words come out of his mouth for a while until you spoke.

"..Andy? Honey?"

"Oh- sorry just.. deep in thought.”

"Ah, I get that.. well anyways, what would you like to talk about?"

You two talked until the sun finally rose and you got sleepy.

"Night Andy, Hun!" He could hear you yawn.

"Night, (____).."

He then placed the phone back down, hanging up shortly after you did as he found himself already yearning and missing your voice.

But, he knows.. better.

He just can’t help it though.

..No matter, he’ll hopefully be able to see you soon as you said.

That would be wrong though.

Because guess what? That warden that was so kind to you was only there for your looks. He wanted you to have some.. “personal time” with you if you get my gist.

“No fucking way you creep!!” You yelped out, this man was about twice your age and asking you to have some personal time with you.

“C’mon, sweetheart!.. I promise I’ll make it worth your while” The warden spoke, a sickening smile on his face.

“No means no, pervert!! Now, let me see my friends, let me get them out of here!” The warden groaned at your response.

“Alright, look here sweet-cheeks. You aren’t gonna be able to save your friends and I shouldn’t even be helping you. So, you either let me have you and you can take your friends, or I kill you right here and now” the man gave you an ultimatum, causing your eyes to widen.

“I..” You almost bursted out into tears when the man moved his hands to your shoulders, lowering your shirt.

“Lemme take care of ya.” he hummed, pushing you against the table within the break room, tears pooling down your cheeks.

You then tried focusing on something else, noticing the fact he had a ring of keys on his belt..

The warden had a hand glide up your thigh, massaging the bundle of nerves there. You tensed, straining back any noises that would come out of your mouth.

“No need to hold back, sweetheart..” he pressed himself closer to you, this was your time to strike!

You punched the man in the face, causing him to stumble back. You fixed your clothes, jumping off the table, you stared at the man who was waddling around like an idiot. A huff escaped past your lips as grabbed the nearest blunt object and flung it at the man. It was a simple lamp, but it hit him real good in the head. Honestly, you felt powerful in that moment, finding the courage to continuously punching the man, letting out every last string of anger that you felt. It was basically free therapy! And, when you were done, he was no longer moving. You grabbed the keys before you marched off, now off to find Andy and his sister, Ashley!

It took you a bit, but after knocking on a few doors, you heard nothing but some shuffling.

“Andy!! Its me! (____)!!” You yelped out, taking out the ring of keys as you fumbled with them in your hands.

“..(____)!? You actually came!?!” He spoke up after hearing your voice, immediately rushed over to the door as he heard you unlock it, opening it for you, taking you by surprise.

“Of course, hun! I never break a promise.” You spoke more dulcetly, a smile upon your face as you looked up at him.

He’s.. grown taller than you.

He spent no time dawdling as he hugged you, pressing you close to him as he twirled you around.

“I’m proud of you for waiting this long. So proud.” You praised, causing Andrew to become flustered as he desperately tried hiding it.

You paused for a moment before you started giggling a bit.

“What.. whats so funny??” He asked

“Nothing. Just reminiscing of the old times.”

“..you’re talking like a grandma.”

You bursted out laughing, patting his back.

“Oh— really now? ‘Just be a good boy and be quiet!’ Is that better??” You were giggling, since you knew your words made any sense for some Grandma to say, but he wasn’t taking this as a joke. The way you called him a good boy..

It.. turned something on for him, craving for more practically.

“Okay I think thats enough mushy reunion stuff, mm?” You smiled sweetly at the boy as he pulled away from the hug, his face still slightly flushed.

“Yeah..” he internally cursed himself for almost stuttering.

“Where’s Ashley?..” you quietly asked.

From that moment, everything happened like some sort of descending spiral of madness. The thing with the demon and Ashley… killing the second warden, all of that fancy stuff. (being horribly mortified in the end.)

You had the both of them stay in the motel for a while until you could bring them into your home as you got them necessities; paying for them to continue staying, getting them new clothes, food, entertainment and others (not even knowing about their little hobby together.)

You’d visit once a week, much to Andrews begging for you to come more often, constant thanks as well from him.

“..I don’t think we can repay you ever for this.”

You always said it was fine, and his sister did too. She seemed more laid backed about the entire situation.

And, when you rushed in the middle of the night to their motel in your car to tell them the news that you finished up your work for their rooms and such, only throwing on a long overcoat, keeping on your nightclothes and throwing one some slippers.

..but they weren’t in there.

“PSSSTTT” the sound almost made you scream, but you turned to the cause of the noise.

“Ashley!” You smiled, not speaking above a whisper.

“Get over here!!!” You immediately rushed over to her without another question, taking her into an embrace.

“Woah- calm down, goody-two-shoes!” She grumbled, trying to get you to let go or at least loosen your arms that were tightly wrapped around her.

“You and Andrew can finally come over!!” You practically cried out, a bright smile on your face.

“..Where is Andrew..?” You questioned after surveying around, letting go of the embrace you tightly held Ashley in.

“Went to go and check on something.. don’t worry about it.”

“..Alright. I’ll wait here if you don’t mind.” You quietly spoke, standing beside Ashley as your hand subconsciously grabbed hers, intertwining them.

And Ashley didn’t say anything about it. Just to see how her brother would react, of course.

That didn’t go well, let me tell you.

He came back, noticing you, he was so excited like a puppy seeing their owner once more, but noticing that you were holding Ashleys hand..

..For some reason it made him pissed off.

“..(____), why don’t you hold my hand instead?”

You were already starting in his direction to tackle him into a hug, but Ashley pulled you back.

“Nah.. I think she’ll stay right here, holding my hand.”

“Ashley.”

“Yes, dear Andyyyy?”

“Let her go. Right now.”

“Mm, nah.” She chuckled seeing him get so riled up.

He flat up walked on over to you two, grabbed you by the waist, swiftly pulling you away from Ashley.

“Oh you jackass!!!”

But he didn’t care.

And then, you all heard another car..

Thats when everything else unfolded.

They killed that man..

And you witnessed it.

Then again though, he was a murderer as well..

..but why??

You were shaking like a leaf, catching Andy’s attention.

“Shh shh.. its okay. Theres no need to cry or worry, alright? It was in self-defense. I promise this won’t happen again.” He consoled you, hugging you closely as you nodded.

Ashley looked baffled though, one of her eyes slightly twitching.

..guess they’ll just have to not kill in front of you from now on.

Well, moving on from this..

You had made some fake ID’s for them (made by another friend of yours, of course) along with some birth certificates, you just wanted to help them get on their feet again.

That would.. slightly backfire.

No matter what, he became so obsessed with you, he started stalking you, watching you do anything around the house. When you’d turn to see if anyone was watching, no-one was there..

You brushed it off multiple times, but even when you were in the shower, or changing, you felt the same feeling. It was all.. unnerving. You hated it. You wanted it to stop.

But, it continued and continued, and it got to the point where you started asking Andrew if you could sleep with him for the night, to which he immediately accepted; surprising you.

You got into his bed, him pulling the covers over you despite the fact you already had a blanket with you.. but that was fine. You rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around your lower back, pressing you closer to him.

And strangely, it seemed like all of the eyes that were previously watching you were gone. You could finally drift off to sleep, where Ashley would make fun of you both each time, but stopped suddenly after a bit..

But you shrugged it off as she was just bored of the joke now that you have cuddled with Andrew so many times now just for you to feel safer within your own home!

Little did you know that the person you were cuddling with was the one watching you all along..

His fingers threaded through your hair, humming ever so softly. He kissed the crown of your head, your forehead, your cheeks, and then eventually, your lips. You tasted sweet to him, sweet like nothing he’d ever tasted before in contrast to his usual taste of mint and cigarettes within his mouth.

He wanted more of it..

He then continued kissing your lips, now making out with your unconscious body, taking breaks in between to undress you from your nightclothes, underwear, and so forth.

In your sleep, you felt something.. swishing within your mouth. It was warm, tasting everything within your mouth almost, like it was trying to claim it!

You slowly awoke very sadly since you couldn’t get your beauty rest, trying to find the cause, just to see it was Andy. The person you were so close with. You instinctively pushed him away, or tried.

As much as you wanted to- you couldn’t hurt him. What would be everything you went for then? What would Ashley do?? You’d have to live with the guilt of possibly hurting one of your friends.

..is he even your friend anymore?

He took notice of that, opening his eyes instantaneously as he felt your touch. He pulled away for a moment, examining your expression.

The room was silent, the atmosphere was palpable as he turned to an emotionless face. He moved you closer to him.

“Andy!?” You yelped out as your body became tense.

“..Shit— shit, no, fuck, i’m so sorry. This is wrong-“ Andrew pushed himself away, getting up and threading his hands through his hair. His eyes were wide as he realized what he’d done.

“..Andrew, why??..”

“I’m sorry- that was disgusting- I’m sorry!..”

Your facial expression was bewildered, but you eventually just frowned and grabbed his arm (which was shaking.)

“Andrew, you should’ve asked me first so I could’ve consented. Especially if you have some sort of som—“

“Wait!.. how are you so calm?!” You really aren’t.

“..I’m not. But I would’ve just want some more information- some sort of talk about this entire situation before we could do anything.” Caressing his hand, you smiled softly, and he simply just stared at you for at least 5 seconds straight.

Consent talk?

Consent talk!!

He gave a long ass apology for his actions, immediately about to just get up and leave.

But you stopped him to talk further talked about the situation. You talked about what you really wanted.

And if you both were ready.

Even though all of this didn’t happen throughout one entire night, you planned everything out. What you two were going to do.

If you wanted a relationship.

Or just a situationship.

You both decided to test the waters first before deciding that.

You need to get out. Leave.

What are you doing?

Please, go.

He’ll kill you too.

You couldn’t fall asleep after everything that happened, so he ran a bath for you and him, washing you both.

After that though, he dressed you in some more comfortable clothes for the afternoon it seemed despite being early morning now.

He had you sit in his lap, smoking (trying to get you to smoke as well), tending to your wounds.

And that’s when Ashley came to you both later within the morning, groaning.

“Why was there so much noise in the night?.. could barely sleep..”

Safe to say, you gave a.. believable excuse

Wow- theres a lot here! But, I hope you all enjoyed!!

[thelostgirl21]

Okay so... in the Netflix series, Jaskier is supposed to have been born in 1222, which would make him roughly 46 by the end of the books series (i.e. 1268), right?

And, according to the most recent book ("Crossroad of the Crows") Geralt would have been born in 1211 (making him roughly 57 by the end of the series)...

...

...

...

...am I the only one having a complete kick out of trying to integrate Geralt's canon birth year into the Netflix series, and thinking it would be somewhat hilariously brilliant to have them just roll with that new added bit of information?!

Especially if Jaskier knows?!

Because Geralt keeps talking as if he's this old, wise guy that's already been around for centuries (or a century, at the very least)!

He's someone that has grown so jaded with life and disillusioned with the world because humans have such short lives and short memories, that they never learn from their mistakes (amongsts others)...

He keeps speaking as if he's seen Empires rise and fall! Entire Civilizations be wiped out! He's an ancient being that no mere mortal could ever dream of fully understanding!

When, in truth, he's basically a baby white wolf! A young tiny Witcher!

If Jaskier met Geralt when he was 18, then Geralt would have been barely 29 at that time!!!

I can just imagine Geralt, at some point on the road, going:

"In my experience, after everything I've seen and been through in my unnaturally long existence..."

Meanwhile, Jaskier's like: "Oh, for fuck's sake! Vesemir told me you've just turned 35! I bet the raven we've just crossed has seen more stuff than you!"

Basically, during the events of "Sirens of the Deep", you have a Jaskier that's "pushing 40, looks 30, thinks he's 20, and acts like he's 10."

And you have a Geralt that's "pushing 50, looks 40, thinks he's 100, and acts like he's 200!"

Going by their current age (end of Season 3), they're like a modern day Gen X / Xennial (queerplatonic) couple, basically!

You've got the Xennial Millenial (Jaskier), that shows a blend of hopeful optimism combined with a healthy dose of cynic realism, that is constantly trying to convince his Gen X partner to get involved and make a difference in people's lives, that there's still love and beauty to be found in the world, and that even if you don't succeed in changing things, you should at the very least give it your best try!

And you've got your archetypical Gen Xer that just wants to do their own thing, stay neutral in all those conflicts to avoid needing to get involved (or worse, be sucked into other people's dramas... Yuck!); because they grew up in a world where toys and playgrounds were pretty much designed to try to kill you, your parents weren't around to nurture and guide you; and you spent most of your formative years hanging out with a bunch of other neglected kids your age alone at home, doing dumb things with them, totally unsupervised, while the "adult world" was filled with issues that you were told did not concern you!

I mean - and I know this wasn't done on purpose at all, but still - tell me Geralt isn't the perfect on-screen embodiment of a "Gen Xer" transposed into a fantasy universe!

To quote an actual Gen Xers:

"We’ve led our life squeezed between the larger Baby Boomer and Millennial cohorts, two generations who also have quite high opinions of themselves. That has actually suited our sullen personalities, we were never ones to like that much attention. We tend to be a little more reserved, more reticent. If you can give an entire generation personality traits, then describing Generation X as slightly moody introverts, is probably as close as you can get. [...] We are what is sometimes called a Nomad Generation, one who has to pick up the pieces from conflicts between prior generations. In our case, we had to re-build after the boomers rebelled during the sixties and seventies. It makes us practical, more concerned with results than high falutin ideas. It also makes us cynical. In some respects, we were the counter-revolution, a backlash against the optimism and idealism of the boomers. That cynical attitude also comes across at times in our attitude to the millennials. Don’t they realize that the world isn’t that simple? [...] One of the best ever quotes I’ve seen about Generation X is this by Theis Duelund in an article in Vice Magazine; “Jaded Gen X slackers nihilistically accept the machine of which they are a part and can dissect its fundamental facile and evil nature with all the clarity and urgency of a nineteenth-century Romantic poet”."

So, Jaskier and Geralt really have that whole modern day 42 y.o. vs 53 y.o. besties vibe down by Season 3, I swear!

Meanwhile I've just checked, and apparently Yennefer was born in 1192 in the show, making her 19 years older than Geralt (this version of Yennefer would thus be 76 y.o. by the end of the series, assuming they end it on the same year as the books)...

Going by the prior analogy, and assuming Jaskier is roughly around 42 in Season 3, that would make her 72...

... and a Boomer!

I'm laughing so hard at the animosity between them being partly caused by a generational divide, with Jaskier's Xennial arse essentially continuously going with their own universe's equivalent of "Okay, Boomer!" on Yennefer!

Meanwhile, poor Geralt is so done with all the generational warfare, and just wants to take a nap!

And Ciri's birth year is 1250... So she'd be... 14 (Gen Z)?!

Wait. So does that mean Season 3 is happening closer to 1268 than I thought? Or in 1268? Because I thought Ciri was like 18 by Season 3 (wasn't she 14 when Geralt finally found her?)!

If she's 15 in Season 3, then Jaskier would be 43, Geralt 54, and Yennefer 73; and the year would be 1265.

If Ciri is 16, then Jaskier would be 44, Geralt 55, and Yennefer 74; and the year would be 1266.

If Ciri is 17, then Jaskier would be 45, Geralt 56, and Yennefer 75; and the year would be 1267.

If Ciri is 18, then Jaskier would be 46, Geralt 57, and Yennefer 76; and the year would be 1268.

Makes me wonder how old Radovid is on the show...

Because Ciri really can't be anywhere younger than 14.

Meaning that Jaskier can't be anywhere younger than 42, either.

And, while the casting documents apparently put Radovid as being 19 at some point; he looks at the very least 30+ on the show.

A case could be made for 25, perhaps, if it involves a lot of suspension of disbelief, given that Hugh Skinner is very baby faced.

But still, the actor is currently 40 (and, in my humble opinion, does look like most 40 year old baby faced people I know), and Joey Batey is 36 and playing a character that is supposed to be AT LEAST 42 in Season 3 (46 at the very oldest).

And if you put two equally baby faced actors in roughly the same age range together on screen, what you get is two men firmly looking like they are the same age, regardless of whatever age you wish to give them.

In other words, if you'd wanted Hugh Skinner to be able to pull off playing a 19 year old prince, making him the love interest of Joey Batey's character, while asking Joey to portray a guy that's meant to be anywhere between 42 and 46, might not have been the smartest idea.

Not to mention that, despite Jaskier thinking he's 20 and acting like he's 10, Jaskier being 42 and getting romantically/sexually involved with someone that's +/- 20 y.o. would create a solid power imbalance in the relationship that I'm not sure would bring anything more to it.

Radovid already grew up pretty sheltered, in a highly dangerous environment that did a pretty good job at stunting his individuation process. As such, there's already this sort of innocence to the way he's falling in love with Jaskier and allowing himself to take influence from him on the show, that I really see no need to double down on by making Radovid almost a teenager and creating a 20+ years age gap between the two of them.

Plus, IMHO, the idea that Jaskier would have responded the way he did in the cabin, knowing that this was but a scared 20 year old kid stuck in a vipers' nest (I tend to headcanon that Radovid is somewhere between 35 and 40 when he meets Jaskier), feels uncharacteristically harsh given Jaskier's usual level of empathy and understanding.

Yes, Radovid represents tremendous political power, but a 42 year old, emotionally and psychologically, can cause a lot more damage to a 20 year old than the other way around.

With a 20 year old Radovid, Jaskier would thus be needing to navigate a fine line between becoming a romantic/sexual partner, and a bit of an educator/teacher figure to Radovid. And I'm not sure that it's a challenge that's really needed on top of all of the other things they already need to mutually learn to navigate together.

Although the idea that Geralt would have chosen a girlfriend that's roughly 20 years older than himself, and Jaskier gone right for someone that's 2 times 10 years 20 years younger than himself, would be rather funny!

But yeah, to go back to Geralt himself, I kinda love the idea of him being so young, yet constantly acting so old.

Perhaps, just like people tend to believe that Witchers are devoid of human emotions, they always tend to assume that any Witcher they meet are really old and powerful beings, and Geralt has never bothered to correct any of them on those assumptions.

Especially with his white hair, it was all too easy for him to lean into that stereotype, and use people's assumptions about him to his advantage, for once!

Humans interacting with him always assume that he's naturally much older and especially wiser than they are themselves, and that his opinions carry the weight of over a century of life experience!

Kings and Queens invite him to sit at their own tables, seek his counsel, etc.

But really, he's just a 39 year old introvert that got dragged to a party he didn't want to go to by a 28 year old extravert that needed his protection because he keeps fucking around with royalty (quite literally!)!

And now, the music is too loud, the people suck, he just wants to go back home, drink wine, and hang out with his horse; but he still needs to make sure his dumbass friend doesn't get himself killed...

Next thing you know, the Queen suddenly wants to pretend they're palls, he's getting involved in a fight, the crown princess wants to marry a porcupine and she suddenly reveals that she carries some kind of great primal power or something... Turns out the Queen has a real passion for stabbing things, and oh! Destiny was giving away a child of surprise at the venue, and one guess whose name they picked?!

Fuck his life! He can barely keep one bard alive, who'd be dumb enough to entrust him with a child?!

It's even funnier if, genuinely, no one (except the other Witchers, Geralt's closest family and friends, and probably Borch) knows that Geralt was only born in 1211.

By now, he's gotten so used to playing the part, that even Geralt himself tends to forget he's not actually that old.

When he and Jaskier are alone together, or just hanging out with the rest of their family, there are times where Jaskier just lets it slide. And others where he'll start teasing him about it, because "I'll remind you that you're barely a decade older than me, you silly goose!"

On a more sobering front, what if Geralt is so anxious at the mere thought of living for 100+ years, without the passing years visibly and physically aging him, while some of the people he loves most (like Jaskier) continue to grow old and eventually die, that he's always felt that burden very sharply and as if he'd actually experienced it.

And there's a kind of poetic tragedy to

*Spoilers for Lady of the Lake under the cut*

the idea that Geralt - a.k.a. the one constantly struggling with people's shorter lifespans and so scared of being left behind by those he loves - winds up dying (and/or being moved to some eternal realm) at age 57.

While Jaskier - a.k.a. the one that's always loved people wholeheartedly and with fearless devotion - winds up being the one that gets left behind to mourn the loss of his family.

Geralt and Yennefer likely both expected that they would eventually have to go through the shared grief of having to watch Jaskier grow old and die...

...except neither of them would ever get to watch him grow any older than 46.

Meanwhile, Jaskier might still have another 40, or perhaps even 50 years to go on and adapt to the reality of living the rest of his human life without the two of them.

So, whatever you do, please do not think too hard about Radovid finding Jaskier alone in his bedroom drinking and crying in the middle of the afternoon on his 77th birthday, because the reality of having somehow managed to outlive his "mad fucking witch" just hit him full force!

His 58th birthday was hard enough, but now he's officially gotten to live a longer life than both of them on this Continent, and it's so fucking unfair! He's just a bard, godsdamnit!

Also, please don't spend too much time thinking about how, in their first few years together, Jaskier might potentially find himself struggling with a bit of separation anxiety whenever he lets Radovid out of his sight for too long, and possibly whenever there's a small crowd of people starting to surround the king, during various royal events and gatherings, even despite the closeby presence of royal guards.

Don't think about how that anxiety might occasionally turn into a full blown panic attack, should that crowd get a bit too dense for comfort; or how Jaskier might start imagining people carrying pitchforks in the crowd despite his best attempt to avoid thinking about that.

Jaskier's just trying to be brave about it and give poor Radovid some room to breathe at the beginning of the evening... Only to find himself suddenly rushing back to Radovid's side - pushing through the crowd and possibly accidentally elbowing one or two guests in the face - while deciding that he's going to spend the whole event with one arm firmly hooked around Radovid's waist!

Also, he'll have everyone know that he's totally entitled to sing his entire set of songs sitting right in Radovid's lap that night, thank you very much! He's the Redanian royal bard, and as such he'll bloody well sing from whichever spot at court most pleases him!

Radovid is probably being awfully patient, understanding and considerate about it, too. Willing to help Jaskier manage his anxiety and hide it from the world by spontaneously being the one to pull him into his lap when he notices that his bard might be struggling more than usual and need a bit of extra reassurance that night; or signalling to two of his guards to help him make his way through a small crowd to be the one to go "casually join" Jaskier first, when Radovid notices how Jaskier is starting to look like he's scanning the guests surrounding him for threats, and likely to come rushing towards him, hyperventilating and trying to spout some half-baked excuse to explain the sudden need to cling to him as if both their lives depended on it!

But yeah, after having lost both Geralt and Yennefer at the same time in shuch awful circumstances, and having watched Ciri leave for another realm, as much as Jaskier considers himself a bit of a "free spirit" in general, I've a feeling that he might have a certain amount of trauma to work through first before he'll be able to trust that no one's going to be trying to take Radovid from him, too!

So, this post started really light, and then took one hell of a turn after that cut, didn't it?

But yeah, I kinda like the idea of Geralt turning out to be that young in the Netflix universe as well, rather than just in the books.

And, of course, we'll always have fanfiction and fandom in general where we can explore the idea of show Geralt and Jaskier being a mere 11 years apart in age, without the tragedy of Geralt and Yennefer dying (and/or moving to some eternal realm) in 1268 as well!

I'm now sort of tempted to do a rewatch of all of the scenes involving Geralt, Jaskier, and/or Yennefer together on the show while keeping in mind their actual age differences, Jaskier 20 = Geralt 31 = Yennefer 50, Jaskier 30 = Geralt 41 = Yennefer 60, Jaskier 40 = Geralt 51 = Yennefer 70. to see how it affects my perception of some of their interactions.

But really, in terms of the "generational divide" between them, they're basically the equivalent of a Gen Xer, a Xennial Millenial, and a Boomer all starting a family and raising a Zoomer together! It's just beautiful!

[milkb0nny]

Dancing For You

... Sam loves watching you move

Pairing: Sam x fem!reader

Summary: You are an artistic pole dancer but because of your shy nature only a few people know. Sam and you were college friends but lost contact during the months he had left. After a year you two meet again, where you give a performance on a party for the rich. Little did Sam realize how ethereal you truly looked.

Note: I wanted to give Sammy some love too. Enjoy <3

Content: no use of y/n, fluff, comfort, reader being a pole dancer, shy reader

Word count: 900

The grand hall of the mansion sparkled with elegance, and chandeliers were casting golden light over the polished marble floors. Waitstaff in tidy uniforms moved through the sea of finely dressed noblemen. It was an event designed to dazzle, a charity gala for the rich and powerful.

Sam Winchester adjusted the lapels of his borrowed tuxedo, feeling slightly out of place amidst the ambiance. But he wasn’t here to mingle; he was here to investigate. Whispers of strange disappearances among the city's elite had caught the Winchester‘s attention, and this gala was aN opportunity to dig deeper.

As Sam walked the room, he heard the soft hum of music shifting. A piano playing soft and delicate muses, little melodies of comfort. The crowd began to gravitate toward the center of the room, where a stage bathed in soft, ethereal light awaited. Golden feathers on the ground, and the center of the stage held a golden pole.

The host stepped on the stairs, gazing down the people.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome tonight’s enchanting performer, known for her artistry and grace.”

Sam watched with mild curiosity as the room quieted, the lights dimming to create an intimate atmosphere. Then you appeared, stepping onto the stage in a gown that shimmered like moonlight.

White crystals covered the needed skin of your body, laced with a thin, shimmery fabric. The rest of your skin was bare, so you could actually use the pole properly. The delicate fabric caught the light as you moved.

Pole dancing wasn’t something Sam expected to see at a gala, but this was different. As the music began, your movements told a story… fluid, expressive, and beautiful. You spun and climbed with effortless grace, the strength in your movements shown by their elegance. The dress flowed with you, transforming each move into something almost otherworldly.

Pole dancing was something you have always loved doing. Since you were a little kid you climbed on everything and did tricks on the playground. Your father pursued your passion, so you grew up with a lot of support and love.

Though, people would sexualize your hobby to the fullest, making you feel uncomfortable and sad. What you did was not, in any case, an sexual act. Whenever you mentioned your passion on a date, the men would ask you to strip for them and after an agonizing dating life, you gave up.

It turned to a beautiful hobby, and the upper class loved you. Your elegant dresses, your featherlight movements, your delicate emotions were the perfect match for a rich, elegant ambiance.

Performing at restaurants, at weddings, at business meetings and at private parties were now your main source of income - and it paid well. But your usual college life didn’t know. It was a sharp contrast to the societal elite, but you didn’t mind.

Money was money, and what is more beautiful than earning it through your money?

Sam's breath caught in his throat.

“Wow,” he mumbled under his breath, unable to tear his eyes away.

You silenced the room with divine grace, leaving only the soft music and the sound of your movements. But to Sam, there was something familiar about you…your face, the way you carried yourself. Then it hit him.

He knew you form college - a shy, introverted student which sometimes followed along his study groups.

“Wait a second,” he thought to himself. “Is that...?”

The performance ended with a delicate pose, the music fading into silence. The applause was vibrant, but Sam could only stand bedazzled in place, his mind racing.

After the performance, you disappeared behind the curtains, and Sam decided to follow. He finally found you standing by a vanity, draped in a silk robe, sipping water to recover from your performance.

“Uhm… hey,” Sam’s voice was soft.

You turned, startled, but your expression softened when you saw him.

“Sam?” you replied, equally surprised. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“I could ask you the same thing!” he said with a chuckle, stepping closer. “Since when do you - wait, that was you out there, wasn’t it?”

You smiled sheepishly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Uhm.. I… It’s… a long story.”

Sam shook his head, still processing. “You were incredible. I mean, really. That wasn’t just a performance… it was art.”

The honesty in his voice made your cheeks warm. “Thanks, Sam. It’s not always seen that way, but it means a lot coming from you.”

As you chitchatted, Sam realized how much he’d missed during college, how little he’d known about this side of you. He listened intently as you spoke about your passion. There was a light in your eyes that made the chaos of the world seem distant.

A quiet moment stretched between you, the buzz of the gala fading into a distant hum. Sam broke the silence with a smile. “So… think there’s any chance I could convince you to teach me a move or two?”

You laughed. “Sam Winchester, pole dancing? That’s a sight I’d pay to see.”

He chuckled, shrugging. “Hey, a guy can dream.”

But as you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder if some dreams were worth chasing after all.

[nabs-draws]

"Show me what you've got, Kinomiya!"

Recently I finished rewatching Beyblade and was remembered on how influential the show was on me. Not only personally but also artistically. I vividly remember how I ran home from school in order to watch Beyblade at 3'o Clock, not to miss a single episode. There was something about this show that just hooked me. The battles, the music. The characters. After G-Revolution I drew my own comics with the characters. Of their own battles, their own interpersonal struggles and it was my very first AU. (lets say I wasn't too happy with Dranzers Faith in G-Revolution and I wanted to draw a happier ending). It also brought me and the neighbourkids together , as they were obsessed with Beyblade as well and we replayed the episodes on the playground while we argued who will be Kai in the end. (we did the same with Digimon, especially with Digimon Frontier, but that's a story for another day.) In Winter I tried to wear my scarf like Kai and I looked ridiculous but personally I related to him the most as a kid. I still do as an adult. I burn for art in a similar way as Kai and Tyson burn for Beyblade. But like Kai, I'm also a person who does not speak much and is rather on the introverted and calmer side. I rather like my work to speak for myself rather than the words that come out of my mouth. (but if you speak about art around me, make sure I won't shut up about it )

Anyway. In order to show my love, I decided to draw this Fanart. I chose that very iconic place from episode one, where Kai and Tyson meet for the very first time. However, except of drawing all the other Kids, I decided to draw the Bladebreakerz. I tried to capture the anticipation before the battle, the tension, the excitment. Almost a similar feeling I have whenever I start a new artwork.

What was your favorite show while growing up? And if it's also Beyblade, who is your favorite character :)?

[acupofinkedblood]

Boombox x reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

• You have found yourself quite the gem of Playground, I will have you know that. In the midst of violence lurking in the darkest alley of Playground, where one shall not rest even when the coast is clear, Boombox is definitely an angel among said chaos. He doesn’t even aware of how precious he is, saying that he simply wants to enjoy life to the fullest. Maybe it’s that attitude of his that you are drawn to at the first place

• On that note, congratulations, you have gotten yourself one of the greenest flag both literally and metaphorically as your boyfriend! And it’s no one else but Boombox

• He obviously gives off golden retriever boyfriend energy. You can’t never get enough of how his face just beamed up when he sees something that he enjoys, or amaze at how well he can connect people from here and there with ease. Sure, sometimes it doesn’t really work as he wishes, but then he just smiles at you saying that it is still worths a shot. He has that natural charisma that just neutralizes any sort of ill intentions, that chill attitude of his adds up to his charm as well

• Confused because you don’t know whether to pick a guy who is a party animal or a guy with relaxed demeanor? Fear no more, because why don’t you just have a guy who has both of that qualities? Boombox is pretty flexible in said dynamic. His love for parties definitely has to be charged with him to sit back and regain his energy from time to time. He enjoys both: Being the spirit of the lively party and lying back with you by his side in peace

• Speaking of charging, his visor needs to be charged as well. It’s not that usual for him to take it off, mostly because he forgets that he is wearing it in the first place. It’s that phenomenon when someone is constantly looking for their glasses while is literally wearing them in that very moment. Without the visor, you can see his eyes clearly now. He has pretty bad eyesight, you don’t know whether if that’s a natural thing or not, but that visor helps him see better

• He explains to you that he can’t really see anything without it being blurry and bright as hell. That visor is important to him, not only because it aids him with his sight, but also for him to deal with those flashy lights of those events he attends to better as well. When he takes it off, he can still see certain things enough to not bump around in his own home, but keep the lights dimmed. You don’t want to accidentally blind him while his soul ascends to SFOTH, now do you?

• Boombox sleeps a lots. It’s understandable considering how much energy he spends outside. Although demons don’t need sleep to function, they are still able to be exhausted to the point that the fatigue starts to take over. He needs his sleep to be prepared for a long day ahead, and it can be pretty long as well. Join him if you want, listen to his heartbeat can help you sleep better. And surprisingly, he doesn’t snore that loud, so your sleep is pretty much undisturbed

• Boombox is like a bear, I mean it. His body is so huggable it drives you crazy. His muscle fat feels so soft and comforting, yet it makes you feel like you can rely on him any time. And don’t get me start on how he is like a walking heater most of the time, especially in cold weather. Imagine how he just pulls you in for a firm hug to warm you up in winter like a very normal thing to do — Gosh — This man is literally a bear and you love him so very much

• Doesn’t matter if you’re an extrovert or an introvert, you can be certain that he respects your feelings no matter what. If you don’t want to go to that rave he is hosting, that’s fine! He will reassure you that people have different preferences and you don’t need to force yourself to do what you don’t like. He will still have to leave since he’s literally the DJ of that party, but his words definitely make an impact in you. It works for cheering you up, if you may

• But if you want to tag along, then he is willing to help you prepare for the night. Boombox wants you to enjoy yourself just like him in these events — and since the mutual trust between the two of you is more than just strong because you two communicate a lots — just go crazy. Just be careful not to hurt yourself in the process. When the two of you get back home, he will even offer to give you a piggyback ride if your feet is hurting afterwards. You’re good with him around, so don’t worry

• You know that your boyfriend is quite the hotshot, being a famous indie artist with wide connections as his friends and all. But guess what? This guy shows you off in the most obvious way possible. His lockscreen? A photo of you and him. Your accessories that you gifted him? He never takes that off. At this point he might as well keep a picture of you in his wallet and show if off to anyone in sight with pride

• That alone has explained how much he is into PDA, right? To be with you is the greatest thing that has happened to him, of course he will show the world that he loves you without any hesitation at all. Even when he doesn’t have his arm around your shoulder or waist or hand, he still sticks around with you whenever he can. As if he has a magnet that drags him over to you, even when he’s talking to his friend

• If you don’t enjoy physical touch that much, just let him know, yeah? He will figure the other way to show you that he loves you a lot instead of holding you almost all of the time

• Boombox spends his time on making a playlist that reminds him of you then presents it to you. It’s heartwarming, really. Each song he adds will be examined carefully whether it fits your vibe or not. To say he has spent a good amount of time thinking about that playlist is quite the correct statement. And that reaction of yours when you pay attention to the lyrics in surprise? Yup, that alone is more than enough for him to smile oh so fondly at you

• His voice is pretty warm. Please don’t forget that he can sing as well, that’s literally one of his biggest strengths as an artist aside from writing songs and producing them in general. Boombox can play any instrument too, what a jack of all trades. It’s not that surprising to listen to him serenade you with his guitar outside of the window — yeah I know it’s corny as heck — but that does more than just melt your heart

• And of course, he has some certain song which he wrote specifically about you without making it too clear. He likes to keep you guessing about the lyrics of his works after all, and once you find out, do expect that silly grin on his face all day

• You know for yourself that Boombox never seems to get mad at all. It’s almost impossible to do that. But there is still that slight possibility that he can be pissed off, especially when that matter involves you directly while he is there. And trust me, whoever manages to make Boombox mad has definitely crossed that invisible line that no one should ever think of get through. An angry Boombox is a scary Boombox, mark my words, you definitely don’t want to see what is he capable of

• Sure, he hasn’t killed anyone before unless most demons at Playground. But does that mean he is incapable of doing so? Hell no. May the SFOTH send their prayers to that poor unfortunate soul because someone’s ears are about to bleed then go deaf soon after their asses get kicked, and that person is definitely not Boombox. He takes that personal, so ain’t no way he is going to back down

• He can be protective of you when the time requires. Boombox is quite the natural at sensing good and bad vibes from other people. If they pass the vibe check, then yeah he can be chill with the like normal. But if he senses bad vibes? You can tell that he starts to move slightly to be in front of you, a subtle move but it holds meaning to it. He can still laugh in that laid-back manner, yet he seems to have his guard up to be ready to defend you if needed

• Other time than those, he is still your sweetheart with that iconic silly smile that you adore so much. Seeing him only can definitely make your mood better, even when he doesn’t say anything just yet. And the same recipe applies to him whenever it comes to you. Under a lover’s eye, everything that their loved one do will always make them feel positive. Maybe it’s the case for both Boombox and you

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Note: My Spotify playlist is having a blast while writing about B.B（＾Ｏ＾☆♪

[zhvakinnn]

hii!! could u do an aiden x fem reader? i have no idea what tho, u can just write whatever u want :) 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Let me see what i got for him

Paring: Aiden Clark x GN reader (romantic)

Warnings:

✨as always i don't know much English so if something is wrong correct me✨

Let's start with the opposites of the relationship

Aiden is an extrovert so if you're an introvert he had to force you to do something with him

He wants to go to the arcade? His dragging you out even though you said your not in the mood

He wants to cook but he doesn't know? He won't stop pleading ti'll you get annoyed and agree

His dragging you everywhere but he knows you're boundaries when your extremely tired he will stop joking around and literally is going to take care of you which confuse you if this is your aiden

You love him to dearly but sometimes he gotta calm down

Your not very much an affectionate person but you can make an exception for him

You both sometimes just watch Netflix at home but if he insist going to the movies you'll just nod and be there

Now if your also an extrovert one or two of your group is like an owner and your the dogs

Literally you'll play like kids no i mean the kids are more behave than you two

Your relationship was never boring you will always have a competition

Chubby bunny? You name it, who is the fastest rubix cube fixer? Yuh, the fastest swimmer?mhm

When you're at the playground you both are usually on the swing or seesaw sometimes slide

Your group was tired of you both being all lovely dovely but mostly tired for having so much stamina

When you're on the realm he always kept an eye for you and you kept an eye for him

So when that accident happen to him you were panicking you were only stop when you saw him getting crush by the ceiling

But once you found out his okay you never let go of him

Okay enough with that

When it was valentines day you we're shock at his gifts he said he used all his allowance but thats not all yet once you got home there a big fcking teddy bear just sitting there

You never let him touch the kitchen because he almost burn his house

So he help you Choping and stir eggs or something and getting the ingredients

Overall i think he is a 10/10 minus 1 because his to hyper😭 but i love him