▻ 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐘

──── ❝ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 2 ❞ ────

navigation || masterlist 1 || series m.list

*mature content is SFW (but may be have dark or suggestive themes)

M U L T I P L E .

I can go anywhere I want – just not home // fic // diluc, thoma, kaeya, kazuha // you confront someone homesick

Blood Week // HCs // multiple // them on your period

Less than Lovers // mature fic // thoma, diluc // you're more than friends but less than lovers

You were the enemy all along // short // multiple // how they react to you betraying them

I wanna ruin our friendship // mature fic // diluc, kaeya, zhongli, xiao // a little burst of courage is all you need

Outburst // HCs // multiple // when elements reasonate with their emotions

Dragonspine (Playable AU) // fic // diluc + kaeya + klee // your player logs out, leaving the team in dragonspine

D I L U C .

Loyalties 01 // 02 // mature mini series // you're his lover but he found out you're a fatui spy distributing delusions, now you're chained to his basement (ft. Kaeya) // read more in series m.list

Family Agenda 00 // 01 // 02 // 03 // 04 // 05 // concept series // having more than 8 kids with him // read more in series m.list

"Hands off! I'm taken!" // fluff fic // in which he gets drunk and you pick him up

Little Star // SAGAU fic // the creator doesn't want diluc, everyone knows this (everyone is wrong)

The painter’s muse // soft fic // where reader comes from a family of painters for the ragnvindr family

Suddenly // mature horror-mystery fic // he's trying to find you (he might be too late)

I love you in every universe // playable reader drabble // diluc never notices you, until your player co-ops with a diluc main

End game // short // Mondstadt is in ruins but he loves you

Enemies to lovers // brainrot

diluc gets a new skin // drabble // playable reader

s/o fell first, diluc fell harder // drunk brainrot

diluc's fashion; by the maids // ramble

K A E Y A .

Stalker // mature fic // you seek his help from a stalker

A Y A T O .

Chess Piece // drabble // you play along in his political game

Change of Pace // drabble // Ragnvindr Reader's attention is on Thoma

Z H O N G L I .

Devotion // brainrot // being a Rex Lapis devotee, not knowing it’s him

T H O M A .

You can't choose who to fall for // brainrot // noble reader falls for a simple housekeeper

G O R O U .

Poly with kazuha x cat!reader x gorou // HCs

does poly gorou kiss cat reader? // ramble

gorou's tragedy // ramble

D A I N S L E I F .

dainsleif royal guard x royalty reader // brainrot

DILUC & KAEYA (RAGBROS) .

Sleeping Pill // fic // You're a dendro healer specializing in helping people sleep. Diluc and Kaeya are overworking insomniacs.

dating diluc // brainrot // ft. protective little brother kaeya

ragnvindr reader's first crush // brainrot // crushing on albedo but your brothers are diluc and kaeya

youngest ragnvindr // 02 // brainrot // imagine the exhaustion of being their sibling

reassurance // not xReader brainrot

In Another Life // not xReader drabble

diluc has to choose between reader or kaeya // brainrot

crepus has to choose between kaeya or diluc // not xReader brainrot

diluc's your husband but kaeya is more present // brainrot

melt reactions with kaeya // not xReader brainrot

to appease diluc // not xReader short

M I S C .

fake date // diluc, ayato

casual tragedies

being a less intimidating harbinger

leap of faith from celestia, the final battle

arranged marriage with someone else

nosebleeds from overused visions

drinking culture + mond girls

modern au and cell phones

chongyun appreciation

how childe met zhongli

lore + modern au

facts about osmanthus

🕊️ Please Take a Moment to Read Nadin’s Story

My name is Nadin. I never imagined I would write something like this. I’ve always been someone who kept her worries quiet, someone who believed that even the hardest days could be endured with patience and faith. But right now, I am reaching out — not because I want to, but because I need to.

I am a wife, a mother, and one of many women in Gaza trying to survive days that feel like they have no end. There was a short time — a brief ceasefire — where we thought things might start to heal. Where the sound of war faded for just long enough to let us breathe. But that moment is gone now, and the fear has returned louder than before.

My days are filled with uncertainty, and my nights with prayer. We have lost so much. Our home was damaged, our sense of safety taken from us. But through all of this, I try to keep going. I try to hold on to what little peace I can create with my hands, my words, and my love.

I am not asking for much. Just a little help to keep our lives from falling further apart. To fix the small things — a cracked wall, a leaking roof, the pieces of daily life that help us hold on to dignity.

This campaign isn’t just about survival. It’s about holding on to what makes us human in a place that keeps trying to take that away. It’s about showing my daughter — even though I won’t mention her name here — that the world didn’t forget us.

If you’ve ever felt powerless in the face of suffering, please know that even the smallest gesture can carry great meaning. A kind word. A shared post. A quiet donation. These things remind us that we’re not alone.

Chuffed

Help Nadin Keep Her Life Stitched Together

My name is Nadin I’m a mother, a wife, and just one of many women in Gaza who are trying to hold on — to hope, to our families, to any piece

I am still here. Still holding on. Still believing that people out there — people like you — still care.

Please, if you feel moved, consider supporting or sharing this campaign.

date me, please. oh, we're already dating?

[ kaedehara kazuha x s/o ]

summary: drunk and utterly wasted is kaedehara kazuha. but he's also drunk in love. it's a good thing you are too.

notes: was typing the phoenix fic but i have to get this out of the way so I DON'T KEEP GETTING DISTRACTED GOD DAMN IT KAZUHA | m.list

words: 928 | warnings: alcohol ofc

you're about to punch venti into a pulp.

by the time your group had left the tavern, it was already dark and most of the city folk were already tucked inside their home, with the exception of a few knights and drunkards outside who greeted you a good night… and a concerned look at the boy hanging over your shoulders.

"i want… a ukulele!" he gushed, giggling uncontrollably, "did you see,"—he cuts himself with a giggle—"that one bard with a small… a veeeery small! oh it was a tiny little thing! with strings!"

"yes, i saw love. i was there with you."

the walk to the inn was quiet, only his occasional rambles of traveling, the things the wind tells him, and the random giggles that he does.

archons, he's adorable.

it didn't take long before you reached the inn, lugging kazuha over your shoulder across the stairs and to your room. the man simply fell into the bed like a sack of potatoes, plopping on the soft sheets with his whole weight. yet his face sports a dreamy smile—his eyes are still closed and he resumes his faint whispers of his dreams.

"you better be glad i love you enough to deal with this."

with slacking limbs and weary drowsy eyes from exhaustion—not to mention it's been a long day of traveling for the two of you, with the addition of xinyan—you quickly went around the room to clean up, taking a damp towel and a glass of water with you to the bedside table, taking a seat besides a giggling mess of a kazuha.

"love, are you asleep?"

he muttered something in response, eyes still shut and a loopy smile.

despite the extra weight on your way to the inn, you can't deny that the sight of kazuha being vulnerable and loose—albeit with the influence of alcohol—does not make you feel a little at ease. he doesn't make it look obvious, but kazuha had always been on the guard for something. perhaps it had been a natural thing for him to be cautious and careful even from his younger days, but it certainly makes you happy to see him having his moments to let his guard down, even for a while.

you just hope it won't always be from the influence of alcohol, he can barely handle a few drinks.

you press the damp towel on his forehead, wiping down around his face. your other hand thread through his hair, combing and taking it out from its usual ponytail.

at your concentration and inner state of mind, you failed to notice how his half-lidded and woozy eyes opened to stare at you. sluggish, but desperate to touch you in some way, he wraps his hand weakly around your wrist.

"love?" you glance down at him quizzically.

"am i your 'love'?"

"huh?"

he squinted his eyes right back at you, lips tilted to a pout.

"you called someone 'love'. am i not your 'love'? do you call someone else your 'love'?"

you couldn't stop yourself from huffing, amused. however, this only made him frown, an uncharacteristic whine coming from him and his hand that was holding your wrist flails in a mini tantrum.

"whyyy? why, why, why? why not meeee? are we not lovers?"

"kazu—"

"noooo," he whines, taking your hand to place sloppy kisses on your knuckles, "you can't call me by that name! date me right now! call me love! i love yooou, it's not fair!"

you just hoped that no one would complain about the loud laughing fit you made at this time of the night, but can they really blame you? here he is, drunk and being the most adorable idiot there is. who are you to not find this endearing?

"love—" you grin at the satisfied happy hum he made at the pet name, "—we're already dating."

his smile fell to a shock look, gasping audibly and his eyes lighting up, putting the moon and the lamp beside you to shame.

he looks very much awake—and breathtakingly handsome—despite being wasted.

"w-we are?"

ah, he looks as ecstatic as he did when you first reciprocate his feelings.

"yes, we are, love."

as if to accentuate your words, you litter kisses all over his face, grinning at the chimes of delighted giggles and slight upward tilt of his head. his face is practically asking for more kisses. flustered and pink in the cheeks, yet his drunken state seems to diminish his sense of bashfulness.

"i love you," he sang.

"i love you too, love."

he looks so content right now. his rosy cheeks lifted into a precious smile that only tempts you to kiss them—which you did, as you should—and the happy little giggles that he makes. you place another kiss on his nose.

"get some rest, love. we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

he doesn't resist this time—probably because he got his dose of affection from you—easing into a curled position on the bed, your hand is still in his. the smile on his face softens, eyes shutting and his voice more sluggish.

"can you say it again?"

"which one, hm?

"say… say you love me again."

almost immediately, you leaned close to his ear, kissing just above his ear.

"i love you, kazuha."

"aga… again?" he drowsily asked once more, slipping into a peaceful sleep.

"i love you, kaedehara kazuha."

and i'd repeat it however many times you want me to.

"i love you too~"

maybe you won't beat venti into a pulp. for now, at least.

ུᩧ JJK TWITTER LINKS P3 !

৻ꪆ instructions. before clicking, you must be logged into your acc and have twitter open in order for these links to function .

TOJI FUSHIGURO. ꒱‎

plap plap plap. ⋆ reversed cowgirl. ⋆ penetration + fingering. ⋆ demolishing your pussy. ⋆ exhibitionism. ⋆ pounding you from the back. ⋆ breath play. ⋆ you’re so easy to break. ⋆ riding him.

CHOSO KAMO. ꒱‎

jerking him off while making out. ⋆ choso being affectionate. ⋆ working your hand on him. ⋆ polite roughhousing. ⋆ worshiping you. ⋆ gameplay. ⋆ overstimulation. ⋆ 69ing. ⋆ bdsm.

NANAMI KENTO. ꒱‎

idk but the watch is soooo giving nanami. ⋆ thrusting inside his cute girl. ⋆ sitting on his lap. ⋆ wearing tiny skirts to get him to fuck you. ⋆ touching you. ⋆ what a pretty sight. ⋆ riding him.

GOJO SATORU. ꒱‎

his way of taking care of you. ⋆ backshots. ⋆ rubbing your clit. ⋆ mutual masturbation. ⋆ gojo coded. ⋆ folded missionary. ⋆ grinding yourself on him. ⋆ semi-public. ⋆ spooning you.

GETO SUGURU. ꒱‎

ghostface leaving you brainfucked. ⋆ cnc w ghostface. ⋆ helping you shove a dildo up your hole. ⋆ fingering you while pampering you with kisses. ⋆ fucking you too good. ⋆ bath sex.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. ꒱‎

nasty backshots. ⋆ he only feeds his cock to bimbos. ⋆ taped up cunt. ⋆ bdsm. ⋆ hes so mean when fucking you. ⋆ headlock. ⋆ at his service. ⋆ manhandling. ⋆ pounding you from below.

car sex with vi ୨୧ ♡

18+ minors dni, vi is a random u js met, use of strap, pet names, lowk a breeding kink + reader is pretty hyper feminine in this take it or leave it cs idc

‘ look so gorgeous like this, this what you wanted ? ‘ she kept her eyes fixated onto your body, watching the way you struggled to bounce on her strap, urging to fuck up into you, but she only observed. ‘ feels so good. ' you nodded at her question, panting on low breaths and giving in all your effort. the friction of her strap against her from your movements made you earn a hiss from her as she tossed her head back onto the head rest.

her hands roamed all over your body, your thighs, your waist, your perked tits that spilled out of your skimpy shirt, to the fat of your ass. vi latched her mouth onto one of your pebbled nipples, sucking and swirling as the quietest whimpers escaped your mouth ever so often. you pink charmed nails digging into her chest, if there was a pain she liked, it was this. ‘ fuck i— i cant do it. ‘ you confessed, feeling the lack of movement you began to have as you looked at her worriedly.

‘ shh i’m right here, i got you, angel. ‘ she whispered before pecking your lips, marking some of your gloss onto her plumped lips. she grabbed ahold of your ass and quickly drilled into you from underneath. her cock punching your spot, each nudge against your cervix causing your breath to stutter and your stomach to tighten. ‘ oh my god .. ‘ you mewled, vi looked up at you to see you with furrowed eyebrows and shut eyes.

‘ such a pretty girl, shittt— wanna take you home with me, treat you so good. you want that ? ‘ she groaned, hearing your heavy breaths. you nodded in no hesitation, making her chuckle, you were so cute. ‘ i wanna cum .. pleaseplease— ‘ you beg as one of her hands travel to your cunt, her fingers brushing your puffy clit. ‘ aw fuck— look at you.. that it ? could you imagine it, being able to you up ? make you mine ? you like that sound of that ? ‘ she quizzed, watching your expressions as you were close.

‘ yesyesyes, please. want you to fill me .. make me full— ! ' you blabbered all kinds of words, wanting her to breed you if it were possible. she wastes no time in plowing into you, hips snapping up faster and faster at a pace and force that she’s certain could’ve shattered your hips if you weren't human. you felt yourself clench around her again, this time tighter than before as you both felt yourself at your peak, your tiny moans doing it for her. ‘ don't stop, ohmygod. ‘ your mouth fell open.

‘ i won't, princess. cmon, give me all of it, ‘ vi encouraged. it makes you flustered up again, the fact that someone as attractive as her is taking pleasure in you, when it was the least you ever expected. a large cry rips free from your throat with her thrusting into you and rubbing on your clit. ‘ fuckkk— needa make you mine forever. ‘ she spoke into your ear. vi felt herself closer and closer, your cunt drenching her strap as you came with her. surprisingly, wetting her abdomen.

you both can barely breathe as the only thing being heard between you were pants. remained buried into you, she furrows her brows and rests her forehead against you for a moment before her thumb wipes away your rolled down tears, then you're looking down at her with lidded eyes.

‘ you okay, precious ? ‘ she questions gently before pressing a kiss to your nose. ‘ was it too much ? ‘ she looks at you concerned. you widen your eyes as you shake your head with a reassuring smile ‘ god no, not at all, promise. it was perfect. ‘ she laughs in relief, mirroring your joy before bringing you into a kiss, reveling in your quick bubbly state.

‘ taking you home with me, ‘

masterlist

rushed sorry bout it

𓊆ྀི󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠⠀ׁ⠀ㅤ  𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐥, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 . ⠀ ༊·˚ 𓊇ྀི

sincerely not | season one

↳ gojou satoru x f!reader

— series masterlist

summary. with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.

genre. heavy angst, arranged marriage, ceo au, 18+

word count. 213k

fic warnings. mean!gojo, VERY OOC, adultery/infidelity, profanity, explicit smut, violence, emotional trauma/physical abuse from past experiences, neglect, heavy family drama, illnesses, classism, pregnancy, undertones of masochism, undertones of manipulation, abandonment issues, overall toxic relationships, graphic depictions of self-harm, suicide/murder (and attempts thereof), minor character death, plot loosely based on twotm & tre. please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

fic art + playlist + gallery + faqs + ko-fi + misc + podcast feature

one + two + three + four + five + six + seven + eight + nine + ten + eleven + twelve + thirteen + fourteen + fifteen + sixteen + seventeen + eighteen + nineteen + twenty (final) + sequel

status: completed

all rights reserved © 2021 saintobio. please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

❝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.

genshin men and their instagram feeds pt.2

heizou, aether, & scaramouche x gender!neutral reader

notes: modern college au

a/n: it’s been months but heizou awakened something within me like LORDDd that man is so fine so don’t mind me for making his headcanon long

heizou:

✧ he majors in criminology but you both meet because you both rented the same study room

✧ his feed is a lot of reels of him trying skateboarding tricks, game nights with friends, and him using the most obnoxious and weird filters

✧ you had an overdue essay and had rented a private study space in your college’s library bc your roommate was prone to partying

✧ when you’d swiped your ID you were surprised to see another student in there quickly scribbling on the whiteboard

✧ he’d immediately greeted you and apologized for using the room for longer then he’d rented, but it was already late and you were tired so you offered to share it. which, tbh, you only did bc he was really cute

✧ soon after you stalked instagram until you found his handle and followed him and would go to the study room whenever he posted about it and pretended it was a coincidence ^-^

✧ afterwards, usually at 1am, he’d offer to take you to a convenience store for a late night ramen snack

✧ he spams his story with memes and photos of himself in weird filters, but one day he posted a poll

✧ your heart dropped when you saw it, it was on his close friends story, which you weren’t even aware you were on

✧ your finger hovered over the no option before remembering he would be able to see your choice, so you bit your lip and clicked yes and shut your phone off

✧ heizou already had a crush on someone else, so you distanced yourself and stopped going to the study room at the same time as him,,,but heizou being the sweetheart he was thought you were stressed and offered to hang out with you

✧ he was obsessed with the game clue! but instead of forcing you to play it with him he took you to the football field at night and showed you the constellations

✧ it was oddly…romantic

✧ you asked if he had confessed to his crush yet and he said he was planning on it tonight, and looks at you

✧ you swat his shoulder cus ur an oblivious idiot and told him to get going then since the night was almost over and he only laughed, then slyly confessed as you went into shock

✧ since then you’ve been together <3

aether

✧ honestly you only knew of his existence because lumine was your roommate and when you were at class he came over to help her move in and she posted about it

✧ the most beautiful man to exist was in your room and you were stuck in algebra !!

✧ after that you followed him on instagram and after a few hours he completed the mutual >_>

✧ his feed was almost entirely mirror selfies and shots of him on family vacation taken by his sister

✧ according to his bio he was an education major, and you could already envision him being a cute school teacher, it fit his vibe

✧ he did attend the same college but you practically never ran into him until lumine was out of town for a concert and she told you to let her brother in since her packages had gone to his dorm by accident

✧ he arrived in the cutest hoodie with boxes stacked up till his face and a bag of groceries, he finally introduced himself to you, apologizing for it taking so long and how you were never around when he was over

✧ after setting the packages in lumine’s room he offered to make dinner and you watched him make sushi for you,,,which was super sexy he was great with a knife

✧ lumine came home to see you both giggling and she joined in on your dinner, making a comment on how she knew you were her brother’s exact type

✧ aether didn’t deny it

✧ later he started coming around to the dorm more often and waved at you in the hallways when he saw you, going out of his way to walk next to you

✧ he was an expert with hair, so if you had hair on the longer side he’d definitely braid it to match his

✧ you and aether were a real slow burn, even though he let you borrow his hoodies and make you dinner whenever you wanted neither of you confessed and lumine was sick of it!

✧ she locked you guys in your dorm and insisted you guys could come out once you were officially dating,,,

✧ he apologized for her and confessed, saying it was okay if you didn’t feel the same and you were like!?! was it not obvious?!?

✧ aether was a dumb blonde fr

✧ an hour later lumine opens the room to find you two making out

scaramouche

✧ you knew him as the kid in the back of art class since it was the mandatory elective for most of the students and you always saw him there, usually alone

✧ he was too attractive for you to simply walk up to him but since you were also introverted in class the teacher put you two together as partners for the semester project

✧ you didn’t have time in class so he gave you his insta handle, you’d rather have his number but this would have to do smfh

✧ his feed was pictures where you could barely see his face and random ass photos he took, it was oddly attractive to see how inactive he was

✧ he refused to meet in the art studios when everyone else was using them, which you were okay with, so you ended up finishing your project late at night

✧ he was pretty and talented, but also very curt and honest and whenever he didn’t like something you did he’d be brutally honest

✧ he shared his spotify premium account with you bc he was sick of listening to the ads whenever you guys shared earbuds, which was an account he hasn’t even shared with his friends soooo

✧ when you finished your project you thought that would be the sad end of whatever the relationship between you two was, but to your surprise he sat next to you in class the next day…but he didn’t say a word

✧ you knew you’d have to put effort in if you wanted to be friends with him so you did all the talking despite being quite introverted yourself

✧ he’d grace you with a nod or a one-worded answer, which made you think he wasn’t interested,,, but when you stopped talking so much he asked you why you weren’t being as annoying as usual

✧ your art elective was ending in a week and you still hadn’t won the courage over to ask him out or to even hang out, you only saw him out of class at the library or in the halls and he usually had headphones on so you awkwardly shuffled by him

✧ you told yourself this was it, if he rejected you then you’d probably never see him around campus again and you could die in peace

✧ so on the last day of class you waited for him out the door

✧ if he was surprised to see you, he didn’t show it, since he matched your pace and let you lead him down the hallway

✧ you confessed really quickly and were about to bolt away when he gripped onto your arm, giving you a strange look

✧ he questioned you on why the fuck you were running and you lamely explained because you were nervous

✧ he didn’t let go of your arm and simply shrugged, saying he accepted your feelings as you guys appeared in front of your next class

✧ he offered you a wave before leaving and you were SO CONFUSED and your questions weren’t answered until you found him waiting for you outside your classroom door

✧ you asked him fifty times if he actually liked you back and he rolled his eyes and kissed you to prove it cus he’s a tease

✧ you guys dated soon after that and dates included watching him paint in the studio or sharing a bowl of ramen late at night with a movie playing

✧ he posted photos of you he secretly took during dates, much to your dismay

✧ that’s how your seduced the emo mf !!

a/n: ty for reading!! this series got a lot of love last time so i thought i’d do it again w more of my fictional boyfriends,, hope u enjoyed <33

read part one here

── 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 : VI.

content: 2k words ! fem reader, pit fighter!vi, fwb dynamic. this is obviously sapphic. vi tops and she has a strap, rough sεx, cunnilingus, spit, slapping (not on the face), usage of petnames like 'princess' and 'baby', a lil angsty and tense, mentions of sεx work, p<3rn with plot!!

— . ｡˚ ♡ turns out, vi needed a rebound too.

vi is rougher and quieter than usual tonight.

shedding her clothes and pulling on the strap you've left on the bedside table for her, she climbs wordlessly onto your creaky mattress to get to you. you've been laying in bed for hours, all dolled up for her, and she doesn't really even look at you— it makes your heart sink a little.

you wrap your arms around her anyway, allowing her to touch you, and with a soft sigh, she gives the swell of your chest a kiss, 'hello'.

the pallid light coming through your window outlines her body in pale blue, and her smell invades your senses as she leans into your body, pressing her weight on you. 

gripping the soft underside of your thighs harshly, digging her nails into your tender skin, she pushes your knees to your chest. "you missed me, princess?"

"mmm, i did." you're looking at her with the most innocent gaze you can muster, eyes wet and lips pouty, and she leans in to give them a kiss just like you want her to. her mouth tastes sour enough of sweat and cheap alcohol to make you wince— but when she pulls back, you feel a twinge of disappointment that it doesn't last long enough.

fresh out of a fight, she's still full of adrenaline — and wastes no time on foreplay. hooking your legs over those broad shoulders of hers, she spits onto your cunt and gets right to it. 

her eyes roll halfway back into her head as she slips the strap into your cunt, like she can feel the way your pussy grips it. throwing her head back, she moans hoarsely, in sync with the sweet whine that comes out of your mouth as she rolls her hips into yours, sliding the strap all the way in. "that's a good girl, fuck."

yes. you are a good girl. her good girl.

vi has been coming to you every night or so, for a few months now — and at first it was just a good deal of sex for you both. but lately, you've found yourself less interested in the sex she offers you, and more interested in the woman herself.

your room is dark, like it always is when she comes over, and the harsh pleasure she gives you always turns your mind cloudy — but nothing can sway the watchful gaze you fix onto vi whenever you're in her arms. through half-closed eyes, you count the nicks and bruises that line the base of her throat and her shoulders and arms. the scratches and cuts, redder because she's flushed, drunk and exerting herself.

twelve new marks since last time. you wonder if she won tonight's fight or if she lost. the way she fucks you doesn't make a difference, so you can't tell — what you do know is that she comes to you seeking an escape from frustrations that stem from something unrelated to the fights entirely. 

and whatever it is, it frustrates her a lot.

she seems especially bothered tonight. you try to hold onto her, nails scratching at her muscled back as you struggle to maintain your grip. her pace is dizzying, and her grip on your body doesn't get lighter. she fucks you nearly like she wants you dead. "vi, vi—"

"you're doin' good, baby." she hisses, eyes shut. "g'nna make you cum in a bit, kay? just let me see you take my strap first. pretty thing."

and you take it — like a good girl. how could you not? when she acts like she's ravenous about you? when, with how she puts those dead eyes and calloused hands and busted lips on you, she makes you feel something no one else ever has?

she looks so good, too — so hot, with the dark hair, the ashy streaks running down her face, the lipstick smudged down her bottom lip that's just slightly fuller than her top lip — and the muscles, god.

her tits aren't nearly big enough to hang in your face while she's on top, but they bounce a little with each snap of her hips, and the sight mesmerizes you. she laughs softly when your pussy squelches for her — and it makes your heart flutter. fuck. you might just be in love with this ghost of a woman. "vi, please."

"you like that?" she hums, landing a kiss on the side of your knee that leaves a bit of lipstick stained on your skin. "y'like it when i fuck you to bits?"

"mhm," you choke out, keeping your eyes on her so you don't miss it when she looks at you. "wanna cum, make me cum, please."

the strap slides out of you as smoothly as it slid in — and heat rises to your cheeks when vi stares at how your cunt clenches around nothing. "can't say no to you when you ask so nicely." she reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face, giving you that half-smile that makes your heart twist just as much as your gut.

"look at you." she lowers her face to your chest, lips tracing kisses downward. one hand comes up to squeeze at your tits, soft and sharp at the same time, index finger and thumb teasing your nipple and making you keen. "pretty, pretty thing."

she nudges your legs apart, getting comfortable between them. her other hand toys with your cunt, middle and ring finger slowly coaxing their way into your hole like she's learning to be gentle now. your body tenses with anticipation, feeling the way her lips get closer and closer to where you want them to go. "ngh. just—please."

the first flick of her tongue on your clit makes you gasp, body rocking in reaction— and vi slaps your thigh. "shhh," is all she says, but it makes you behave. she spreads your pussy open with her fingers like it's a flower, and takes you whole.

the wet sounds of a mouth on a cunt fill your shoddy little room, and you moan and shudder in vi's arms, caged in her hold as she draws the orgasm out of you.

and she does it so quickly, having learned what touches of her tongue your clit likes best, how you like having her fingers, when to add the extra tug to your nipples. she makes you go insane so easily.

like she took the time to figure out how to do it. like she cared enough to do that. like she might just l—

the white-hot rush of pleasure hits you, and all your thoughts dissipate. you grab vi's hair, digging your fingers into the dyed locks, keeping her face where you want it. "mmm, fuck, just like that—vi, just like that, please—"

she slaps your thigh again, but you relent only slightly. she licks up your slick, adjusting her position so she can fuck you better with her fingers, and you tremble under her as she curls her digits into your sweetest spots, wave after wave of bliss washing over you with each touch. the bed creaks like the weak boards under your mattress might snap, but you don't even hear it. "god."

once you're not shaking so much anymore, the high peaking and falling past, she comes up and kisses you — and you know your face and body are full of inky lipstick marks by now. it's almost romantic.

then, it's over.

vi pulls away, letting go of you and sitting up.

"ugh." you slump into the bed, hiding the pang of hurt that fills you. "you . . . don't want me to do you? or . . get you a drink?"

"not tonight. think i'm wasted enough." vi wipes her mouth off, stretching her neck to one side till there's a pop — and gets off the bed. you notice how her lips are entirely clean of the onyx that they were. "hey, you sure you don't want me to pay you?"

and there it is. the moment of intimacy dissolves like a grain of sugar into the vastness of the sea. it's home time.

"no, it's fine." you wave her off, turning away. you watch discreetly through your mirror as she looks around at the little box you live in.

"are you sure? . . i can cough something up." she asks again, and though you're slightly offended, you know what she means. your place is a single room that's barely a six by ten, small rickety bed and a desk with the mirror, a rack for the few clothes you own, and nothing else really. you share a bathroom and kitchen with two other girls across the street. and you have vi each night.

you need nothing else. "yeah, i'm good. and i don't do that anymore, anyway." you tell her.

"alright." vi pulls her clothes back on, and you're just a little sad to see her body covered away again. you did love getting your eyefuls of those slight curves and sleek muscles, and the tatts. "why'd you stop, though? working, i mean."

you think of how you used to feel, seeing clients and letting them fawn over you for the night. handing you a wad of cash and walking out at the end of it. back then, it was what you needed— but the moment you didn't need it anymore, you’d signed out.

you'd only agreed to hook up with vi because it seemed harmless enough. made your nights a little less lonelier, gave you some company. you hadn’t expected money or to catch feelings.

the answer to her question rises up your throat, but you find it a bit ironic — and you know vi is a good person. if she finds out that you're yearning for more than what's between you two at the moment, she may just see herself out of your life, so as to not hurt you. and you didn't want that. you wanted vi, even if it was only like this.

the real answer to her question rests at the base of your throat like an ache, throbbing a little along with the parts of your body vi had gripped a little too harshly. i didn't like to feel used.

but you shrug your shoulders and say, "well, i just didn't need it anymore."

vi doesn't answer, only turns to leave. "will you come tomorrow?" you ask, trying not to sound like you want her to come.

"probably." vi answers, out of the door already. "stay safe, princess." then she's gone, and you're alone again.

the dreary darkness of your room surrounds you once more, and you feel hot and sticky. ignoring the discomfort, you slump into your bed again, realizing how painfully little you know about vi. yes, she's jinx's older sister. yes, she's nothing like her. yes, she's beautiful — handsome; ghost-pale, dark red roots showing through the dyed black hair, sad eyes lit up with need.

you loved those nights when she would let you reciprocate and make her feel good. when she would ask for a drink or two. when she would ask to stay the night, and you'd let her sleep on your chest. she wrapped her arms around your body then, holding you both like she's protecting you and like she wants you to keep her safe. and you'd hold her, stroke her hair, and stay awake praying the morning comes late.

and then there are nights like tonight — where she's quieter and more distant. where she leaves too soon. like she's holding herself back. it infuriates you, almost. you want to ask her what she wants. you want to tell her what you want.

shifting your stare from the ceiling to your door that hangs ajar, you let out a heavy sigh. next time, maybe you'll ask her. maybe you'll tell her. maybe. if the surge of body-and-mind desperation to make the moment last long enough doesn't overthrow everything else, you will. but you know it'll be easier said than done.

vi melts you like shaved ice in the sun. she softens you, turns you sweet. you feel alive with those dead eyes, calloused hands and busted lips on you. being wanted by her gives you a sense of meaning. and you'll do anything if it means holding her a little longer. 

if that meant this, simply getting to be her good girl for a night and nothing more — then so be it.

a/n: part two, anyone? lmk if you want it, might turn this into a series :P💓

now or never pt. 4

xu minghao x fem!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

word count: 10.4k

synopsis: when you make a chance encounter with your ex, you end up saying that you’re engaged to your estranged neighbor xu minghao. when you find out your ex is coming to your friend’s wedding, you’ve only got a month to become a convincing couple.

warnings: chronic illness talk, so much fluff, filthy oral sex lmao, descriptions of female anatomy blowjobs, long car rides, etc.

notes: part 4 is here! finally! longest chapter yet!!! took me exactly a month but I needed to make sure it was perfect. this chapter is building out minghao's character a bit more with some more relationship progress! this covers the last week before the wedding, so there's only one more chapter left !!! thank you for all the love on this series, it feels like it's getting bigger and bigger with every part which is so incredible! please enjoy as always 💓

tag list: @lavenderautumnx @mangogyu @idyllic-ghost @thetigeragenda @sleeplessdawn @bfwonu @soffrine @kwonranghae @butterfliesinthenightsky @sugarrimajins @hitorijanaikara-blog-blog @cosmicwintr @lztespring @justasoftstan @lilactangerine @jeongiegram @hoohoohope @itzelise06 @bonsaijoons @trashygigi @playboygeniusphilanthropist @thedeeppoet @mo-onlar @kyoko-22 @thesunsfullmoon

You wish that the rest of the day could’ve gone well, but Joshua’s confession just floats in your brain, leaving you unable to do much else with yourself.

Minghao drops you off back at your front door after your outing, revenge dress still not revealed. You wanted to see it, but he can sense you’re too tired to deal with it all.

“No, I’m ready, I can look at it,” You reply half heartedly. You try to muster up your enthusiasm, but he can see right through it.

“No, I’m making you go back to sleep. We can just wait on it. I need you to be excited, and I don’t think your mood is anywhere near there,” He pulls your hand to his mouth, leaving a kiss on your palm. You close your eyes and take a breath before glaring at him again.

“Fine,” you pout.

“Let me know if you wanna see me again today, ok?” He pulls you into a hug and you seem to melt into his arms.

“Okay,” You whisper into his ear. You linger in the hug a bit longer than you expected, it feels like a silent plea for him to stay. Yet, you pull away, exchange goodbyes, and tuck yourself into your apartment before you can cry in front of him. You don’t even get to wallow in your sadness for very long before that familiar pain seizes your body without much warning.

Flare ups never give you much time to prepare for impact, you just have to hope you’re lucky enough to catch them in a place where you can sit for an extended period of time.

The rest of the day is a blur, you don’t even remember trying to change clothes or freshen up. You ignore your phone to focus on your comfort show playing on your laptop screen, moving only to charge your computer when prompted.

You knew it was bad to push everyone away for something you couldn’t control, but you still felt the need to process things like this alone.

You forget that the front door was unlocked, so you don’t hear anyone come in until you hear his voice. “Brat, where are you?” You hear the door lock behind him.

The pet name makes you pause the show and close your laptop. You push yourself further into your blanket, tucking your face away into the soft fabric.

“Hello?” You hear him call out again, but you still don’t move. It felt so childish to hide from him, but you couldn’t make yourself stand up to meet him even if you wanted to.

You hear him walk through the living room into your bedroom. His footsteps stop at the sight of you. Before he sits, he goes to turn on the lamp near your side of the bed before making his way to you. You see the pitch black room illuminate with that recognizable soft warmth and you start to feel even worse.

You feel the other side of the bed dip as he settles onto the comforter.

“What’s going on?” His voice is low.

He’s close enough that you can smell his cologne and you realize it’s the most comforting scent in your life. There were traces of him around your apartment, but nothing beat the real thing.

“I can’t move at all,” You push the blanket off your face, but you can’t look at him. You just focus your eyes on the creases in your sheets. He seems to understand exactly what you mean by the way he shifts his weight towards you.

“Shit,” His voice turns frantic, and he grabs your face without a second thought. You finally make eye contact with him and his eyes are nervous. It unnerves you to see him so scared of you, you feel like you have to comfort him instead.

“I’m fine, Hao,” You whisper. He’s not convinced at all, if anything he looks more scared.

“Please, darling, don’t think about your pride, I need to know how I can help you,” His voice shakes and you feel a pang of guilt in your stomach. How could you try to deny how much pain you’re in around him when he’s done nothing but try to understand you? His pleading ultimately convinces you to let your guard down.

“I haven’t taken any of my medicine. It feels much worse when I don’t,” Your face twists into discomfort.

“Okay, where is it?” His voice is now stable, he seems resolute in his quest to be strong for you.

“Top shelf of my cabinet in the bathroom, there are two big bottles with red labels on them. They should be right next to each other,” Your eyes are closed by the time you finish giving him instructions, and you assume Minghao is anxiously searching by the way the bed lets up.

He only rummages in the bathroom for a minute or so before returning. He puts everything down on the nightstand before grabbing your attention, holding your face in his hands.

“Hey, can you sit up at all? Is that too hard right now?”

“I can try,” You barely move an inch before his arms are anchored to your side, slowly helping you sit up before you could do anything yourself.

You’re surprisingly comfortable now, and he takes the initiative to remove the blanket from your face. “You seemed overheated,” His brows are knitted in concern as he strokes your cheek with his fingers. You’re definitely sweating, so you’re glad he did something.

“Is there an order you’re supposed to take these in?” He holds one of the bottles up and you nod.

“The bigger one first or else I could die,” You reply nonchalantly, but his eyes read as very concerned. He’s staring at you with that same frantic look from before, but you relieve his worries almost immediately.

“Kidding,” you offer a small smile and he scoffs.

“Don’t joke right now, I’m worried sick about you,” He points an accusing finger, but his face melts into a nervous smile. His worried energy makes you feel much worse the second time around.

“But I do take that one first,” You confirm and he’s nodding his head. He grabs your water bottle from the nightstand, setting it between his legs. As he sits with crossed legs, reading your pill bottles with attentive eyes while his hair hangs in front of his face, you want to cry.

You realize the man in front of you deserves to be let in.

He doesn’t deserve to be ghosted for 12 hours while you’re in excruciating pain, only wanting to help you in your time of need. Even though you’re used to a concerning level of hyper-independence and self-sufficiency, his actions start to convince you that it shouldn’t be that way.

Why do you need to suffer when someone is waiting to help you?

Wouldn’t he have dropped everything to come take care of you hours ago?

The thought of pushing him away without considering his feelings eats at you on the inside.

He gets the first bottle open and feeds you the first two pills one by one, holding your water bottle up for you so you can sip without moving a finger.

“Your bedside manner is really good,” You nod at him once you’ve finished drinking your water and he runs his fingers through his hair with a gentle smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you treat me better than some of the nurses I’ve had.”

You’re not lying either which makes the hint of concern on his face hurt even more.

“Okay, one more,” You didn’t notice that he already opened the second bottle, but you accepted the pill from his fingers once again. He holds up the water for you one last time, waiting for you to swallow before his eyes ease up on you.

“All done,” He runs his hand across your cheek again. “I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything, right?” It’s not an intruding question when he asks it, there’s no judgment behind his eyes.

You shake your head no and the embarrassment washes over you. “I’m sorry,” You start sobbing and he scrambles to move everything in his lap to get closer to you.

“Why?”

“You just wanted to know how I was feeling and you didn’t even ask for any of this,” You wipe your eyes with your sleeves, your words start to get lost between hiccups. He gently moves your hands out of the way to wipe your tears. The moment he puts his hands down, you pull him in close and he lets you cry into his chest. He whispers comforting words into your ear, cradling your head with his arm. He waits for you to stop sniffling before he speaks up again.

“I don’t like you because I pity you. You have to know that,” He whispers in your ear before pulling back to face you. “You’re so determined and kind, there’s so many things I admire about you when you’re not worrying me half to death,” He makes a jokingly frustrated glance that makes you blush.

“But seriously, I’m happy to help you. You don’t bother me, taking care of you is not a chore. I want to take care of you as long as you want me here. Okay?” He’s got that soft adoring tone in his voice, the one that’s reserved for pulling you out of your overthinking. It works like a charm every time.

“Okay, I believe you,” You nod, letting his words sink into your subconscious slowly. Compassion is still so foreign to you, but you can tell he is determined to change that.

“Let’s have some food and get washed up. I’m gonna make you some tea as well,” The look on his face shows that he’s already got everything laid out in his mind.

“I don’t know what you did, but my muscles already feel better.” It would always take far too long for your medicine to kick in, but Minghao seemed to be gentle enough to make a significant difference. It seemed your body seemed to know the difference when you were being treated gently as well.

“I have magic powers,” He winks and you let him go to start his dinner prep.

He ended up doing everything for you, to say he pampered you is definitely an understatement. He doesn’t let you lift a single finger for the rest of the night, only letting you go when you demand to brush your teeth on your own. You didn’t expect him to be so attentive, but you think he’s just trying to make up for not being able to take care of you before.

When you’re finished eating dinner and your tea is gone, he’s practically attached to you in bed. He can’t stop himself from burying his face into the side of your neck, only moving to nestle himself closer to you. Minghao always starts off sleeping on his own side whenever you’re in bed together, so to start off very close to you is a nice dynamic shift. You’re slowly discovering how important physical contact is for him, it makes you feel even more connected to him.

He somehow convinced you to change into new pajamas, but you do feel more like a human being now. You should’ve spoken up before you were both attempting to sleep, but your brain makes it impossible to settle without bringing your thoughts up.

“Hao?”

“Yeah?” He rasps out, blinking his eyes open at you. You immediately felt bad knowing he needed the rest, but you didn’t want to ignore the chance to speak your mind now that he was awake.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” You pressed a kiss to his hair for the trouble.

“I wasn’t really asleep yet,” You hear him take a deep breath and he pulls himself closer to you. “What’s up?”

“I don’t want to stop seeing you after the wedding. I’ve been trying to find a good way to tell you officially, but I don’t think the agreement holds up much anymore,” You finish ranting and he’s surprisingly quiet. You feel him let go of your hold and your first instinct thinks you might have fucked up.

He didn’t want to be serious with you.

The lamp suddenly flashes on, forcing you to blink to adjust to the new light. He seems lost in thought until he meets your eyes.

“I don’t wanna stop seeing you either,” He smiles so brightly that it spreads to his eyes, “I think you’ve got a little too much of my heart for me to say no.”

You could’ve cried from relief. You had a suspicion that someone who took a dress commission from you for free didn’t want to be just friends.

“Thank god,” You put your head in your hands and sigh to yourself. Was it too soon to think you could be in love with him? Absolutely.

Yet, did those feelings grow when you saw how giddy he got at the thought of you? Yes.

“So you were nervous to ask me?” He reaches out for your hold and you do your best to crawl over to him. He closes the distance when he notices a hint of struggle on your face and wraps his arms around you tightly.

“A little bit,” You mumble into his chest. You feel his giggles vibrate across your body and he runs his hands down your back.

“You make me nervous too, for the record. I figured if I fucked up the dress, that was it,” He sighed loudly. It was nice to know the feeling was mutual though, that you were both feeling so excited yet nervous about the connection that it stopped you both in your tracks.

“You couldn’t possibly fuck up the dress, though,” You knew he was far too talented for that, especially after seeing his vision for other projects in his studio.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” He admitted, making you both burst into laughter. It was nice to see him hype himself up for a second despite the humble attitude he adopted most times when complimented on his work.

You both talked about fashion related things until you felt pulled toward sleep once again. Your head is nestled on his chest and you’re almost certain that his idle touches to your skin knock you out quickly.

You almost think you’re dreaming things when you hear him whisper to you.

“Don’t scare me like that again, I can’t lose you,” It’s so faint but it’s enough to push you into sleep completely.

You don’t want to scare him like that either, especially since he’s proven how much he can be there for you.

You figure it’s time to show him how much you care for him too.

--

“I don’t want to be there when you try it on,” Minghao remains insistent at your front door.

You’re not exactly convinced with the garment bag hanging over your shoulder. Minghao had finally given you permission to see the dress, but with one stipulation that you couldn’t exactly wrap your head around.

“Why not?” You try to stop your face from twisting into a discontent expression.

“I imagine it’ll be kinda emotional, I don’t want to get in the way of that. I know, it sounds stupid, but I’ve done it for so long with my commissions. Just trust me,” He raises his eyebrows at you.

You give him an anxious glance and he smiles at you. “You can come over once you’ve tried it on. You can tell me all your reactions and everything, I promise!” He exclaims.

“Okay, I trust you,” You nod through the response. You exchange quick goodbyes and you shut the door behind you.

You give yourself a few seconds before you’re practically running into your bedroom.

You lay the bag down gently onto your bed and unzip down the front until the dress is partially exposed. From first glance, you can tell it’s dramatic. The sight of a strapless gown takes your breath away.

Before you can even take it out of the bag, you notice a note attached to the front of the plastic. You read it to yourself:

To my muse-

I hope I made you the perfect revenge dress. If you don’t like it, then feel free to drag me through the mall to find you something better. It’ll only hurt my feelings a little bit.

Hao

The end of the note left you laughing, but a few things make your heart clench.

First, muse. You don’t know why it pulls so much at your heart to hear him call you that. It’s probably the weight of the situation, how quickly you’ve grown together, it all feels so precious to you.

Second, the idea that whatever he made you could be worse than a department store dress didn’t make sense at all. You’re sure whatever he made would be nestled in your heart forever, the intimacy of making you something this personal was not lost on you.

You don’t want to mull on the note for too long, so you place it on your dresser before coming back to look at the dress again.

You carefully unwrap it out of the plastic and hold it up to get a better look at it.

It’s breathtaking, even just on a hanger. The black sheen fabric feels so lush in your fingers, you can’t describe how it makes you feel.

You expected it to be a bit revealing, but the combination of the strapless neckline and the high slit are almost lethal.

It takes you a few minutes to actually get dressed, but once it’s on, you feel like a new person. The moment you see yourself in the mirror, you’re speechless.

First of all, the dress fits perfectly. It hugs your hips and compliments your figure so well that you don’t think you’ve ever seen your body look so at ease in a garment.

The strapless neckline compliments your chest, slightly bolstered by the structured corset bodice. The slit is almost dangerously high, you’re staring at just how exposed your leg is.

It feels dangerous to even wear it in the comfort of your bedroom. You can only imagine what power it would give you in public.

You don’t think any of the jewelry you have in your closet would be good enough to match it, but something would have to do.

Minghao was right that wearing the dress brings something out of you. It wasn’t about feeling desirable by Joshua anymore, it was a rebirth of your identity without him. It was cathartic to see yourself wear something that would force you to grab attention instead of hiding away.

This dress reminds you that weren’t going to minimize yourself for anyone anymore.

After a few more glances at yourself, you’re itching to get back in your sweatpants so you can run to Minghao’s door.

Once you get out of the dress, you get dressed in your other clothes in record speed. You barely remember to put on your slides before you’re out the front door.

You’re nearly breathless when you arrive at his door. You end up knocking on the door so loudly that he’s almost shocked to see you on the other side.

You push yourself past him, and he’s watching you with a mischievous eye while closing the door behind him.

You kiss him before he can say anything, capturing his lips so quickly that he nearly stumbles into the hallway closet.

“It’s so perfect,” you say between kisses, “I just wanna kiss you because I can’t pay you for it.” You’re moaning into the kisses at this point, so much so that Minghao pulls away with a dazed expression.

“You love it that much?” He bites his lip at how eager you are.

“Yes, I’m fucking obsessed with it. Thank you so much,” You rest your head in the crook of his neck for a second before looking at him again.

“You’re welcome, darling. I’m really glad you like it.”

He admires your face for a bit too long that you start to feel pulled in by his glance. The longer you look at him, desire overtakes any of the rationality you have left.

“I don’t think I’ve said thank you enough,” Your hands land on his chest, you can barely stop yourself from wandering down to his nipples.

“Show me then,” He can’t help himself when he teases you, taking your hands and snaking them underneath his shirt.

His skin still feels like a surprise to you despite your previous encounters. Suddenly, everything in you wants to take things much slower than your hasty entrance.

You’ll have so much time to go hard and fast with him, but capturing your unspoken showing of gratitude feels much more paramount.

--

Although having time to figure out your career was nice, the threat of not having money for rent was much bigger. You thought carefully about Minghao’s words, how the idea of wanting to start over with fashion was enough at the moment, but you were tired of sitting and waiting.

You needed to take action.

You didn’t want to rely on Minghao to get your foot in the door, despite him probably wanting to help you out.

Your portfolios from college didn’t exactly reflect your current vision as a designer, but they had enough material for you to present to any potential employers. You didn’t have much to lose, so you spent hours trying to scour through resources online for any possible leads on apprenticeships or openings for residencies.

You sent far too many emails to fashion houses around the city within one day, including Minghao’s employer Semicolon. You get so wrapped up in typing that Minghao has to pry your laptop away from you in the middle of you drafting an email, much to your dismay. He reassures you that whoever responds back will be lucky to have you, which is true, but you still try not to get your hopes up about anything.

Thus, when you receive an email the next day from the head of Minghao’s department, to say you’re shocked is an understatement.

You wouldn’t be working directly with runway clients, but in the print department instead. You had more experience with magazine work anyways, back when you used to get involved with a few different student magazines on campus as an underclassmen.

It’s a lower level designer job, but a job nonetheless. You weren’t exactly in a position to turn down the interview, especially when you knew how well they paid at all levels.

Your interview happened to be on the big day of Minghao’s consideration for a promotion as well.

He mentioned it in his sleepy ramblings a few nights ago, how he was up for a promotion to head designer. He would be the lead designer on any national and international runway collections that the company created, positioning him as one of the most established in-house designers at Semicolon.

It was a major deal, especially since he would be the youngest person to be head designer in Semicolon’s history. All eyes were on him, and you were certain that the pressure was getting to him.

You both stood outside the company building on the day of, 15 minutes before your meetings, hands intertwined with similar levels of nerves accompanying you. You turn to face him with a nervous look in your eyes.

“We’ll be fine, right?” You ask quietly.

“We have to be,” He nods at you, absentmindedly biting his lip. You look at the building again with scattered eyes, your brain doesn’t even feel remotely prepared for this.

“The worst we can get is a no,” It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself as you say it, but you need to hear it out loud.

“Exactly,” He affirms you with a gentle squeeze to your hand. “We’ll walk in together, take the same elevator and no matter what happens, it’ll be okay.”

You nod and take one last deep breath before he starts leading you both inside the building. Your senses are too focused on the task at hand to look around the lobby this time, you don’t seem to relax until you both step inside the elevator.

You’re going to floor 8 while he goes to floor 19. He presses both buttons and faces you again. “You’re gonna do perfect, darling. You have everything you need,” He leaves a kiss on your forehead and pulls you into a short yet tight hug.

“You too. You’re gonna make the best head designer this company has ever seen,” You kiss his cheek the moment you’re out of the hug. He nods with a silent certainty that things will go well. The 8th floor chime comes sooner than you want, but you step out, clutching your portfolio for dear life. You look at him one last time before the elevator closes and he blows you a kiss with a short wave.

You can barely smile back before the elevator doors close and you’re alone again. You figure that you’ll never be 100% ready for whatever happens, so you look for the designated office before you can question yourself any longer.

45 minutes later, you’re left a bit unnerved as you close the office door behind you. The elevator ride back down to the lobby has your mind completely swimming, but you know that you can’t process any of it until Minghao is out of his meeting.

You both agreed to wait outside for each other once the interviews were over. You figured that you’d be out before him, and your suspicions were correct when you didn’t notice anyone sitting outside on the benches near the entrance.

It feels like you’re waiting a lifetime until you finally see his figure walk out of the revolving doors. His face is unreadable when he approaches you with a small wave.

“Okay, we’re gonna say yes or no if we got the job on the count of 3,” You brace yourself for whatever he says and he agrees to your proposition immediately.

“1, 2, 3,” He counts slowly.

“Yes,” You both speak in unison.

His eyes go wide and you nearly drop your bag.

“Oh my fucking god,” You scream into his ear, wrapping your arms around him until you can barely feel your fingertips. He reciprocates the hug immediately and nearly tackles you in the process. You’re both just waddling around in this hug for a few minutes, drinking in each other’s success until you can barely breathe.

“You deserve this so fucking much,” He comes up for air and almost knocks you over with a kiss. Your mouth melts into his instantly, you can’t stop your tongue from pushing into his mouth. You can feel just how excited he is by the way he holds your face with his hands.

He’s quite good at the push and pull, he still knows how to make you flustered after each kiss. He pulls away with a giggle, leaving you completely breathless.

“You do too, head designer,” You push his shoulder playfully and you can see the tips of his ears turn red.

“Come on, let’s go home so we can get wasted,” He pouts and you can’t exactly say no to that face.

“Can we drink the cheap wine I have in my fridge? I think I have too much to drink on my own,” You ask him as you both walk back to his car arm in arm.

“Absolutely, we can do anything you want. We deserve to celebrate,” He can’t help himself as he leaves a kiss on your cheek.

You want to bottle up this feeling so badly. Yet, you’re sure that you’ll always remember the way the light summer breeze hitting your face, holding hands with your lover, smiling until your cheeks hurt because you both got lucky on the exact same day in the same building.

It feels like nothing else really matters in the moment besides the way Minghao kisses you, as if he’ll never be able to taste your lips again.

You hold him to the promise of drinking and making out, the former coming first. You arrange a few bottles of wine on your living room floor, slowly making your way through them together until you’re too giggly to keep going.

You give up on drinking out of wine glasses and you decide to periodically switch bottles instead, taking a few sips of one bottle before switching flavors.

Soon enough, he was pushing your hand away from the bottle with a small giggle.

“Stop it,” He swats your hand lightly and quickly captures it between his hands. The swift movement makes you scream and he’s shushing you, but you both fall right back into laughter.

“You’re drinking just as much as me!” You exclaim. He pushes his lips out to deflect your statement, but it’s true. His cheeks are flushed and he’s laughing at everything you’re saying, a classic tell that he’s drunk.

“Maybe I just wanted to look at you, how about that darling?” He tilts his head and your playful frustration comes out.

“Where did this darling thing come from? You started doing it out of nowhere,” You scrunch your face at him and he’s slightly embarrassed.

“Didn’t want to call you brat forever. Do you not like it?” He gets slightly quiet and you hit his shoulder. There’s absolutely no way you could ever hate his nicknames, they feel too comfortable for him to ever stop.

“I love it! I just like brat too,” You shrug your shoulders and he smirks at you. “No, not like that, you’re so gross,” You push him again and he puts his arms around you before you can touch him again.

“I didn’t mean it in that way, brat,” He presses lots of kisses to your cheek, enough that you want to squirm away out of fake discomfort.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Your words start slurring to the point where Minghao is stumbling to get you both some water.

“Where are you going?” You shut your eyes but reach out for him, making grabby hands that he can’t help but coo at.

“You’re so fucking cute, but you need water. We both do,” You hear him come back and sit next to you again. He taps your face to get you to open your eyes and he’s handing you the cup of water carefully. He can’t even let you hold it completely, he’s cupping your hands and helping you drink the entire cup. You don’t want to admit that it’s easier to have him help, so you keep it to yourself.

He gulps down his own cup of water and moves them out of the way so that you don’t knock them over.

“Let me take care of you,” You sigh, your shoulders visibly lowering with the release of air. Your eyes are not shy about wandering to his crotch and he laughs a bit too loudly.

“You don’t have to do anything, it’s okay,” He insists.

“I want to,” You fight back immediately, the desire taking over when you lay your hands flat on his thighs. There’s a beat of silence before you ask him for permission.

“Can I?” It’s a whisper that you’re not even sure he heard, you can’t even look in his eyes. He lifts your chin to meet your gaze. His eyes are so forgiving that you know he wants it before he can even speak out loud.

“Go ahead, baby,” He nods and your hands are already unzipping his pants, you don’t have to give him time before he’s taking off both his pants and boxers at once.

The sight of his cock still leaves you speechless, no matter if he’s giving you one quick round before he’s going to work or if he gets to take his time with you. Precum is already leaking from his tip, you wish you had the patience to tease him like you wanted to, but you just want the taste of him too badly.

He’s visibly hard, so much so that the moment you touch him he flinches.

“It’s okay, love, just relax,” You reassure him. You lick the underside of his cock and he lets out a shaky breath, he clearly didn’t expect it which makes it even better.

You settle yourself between his legs, your nails draw light scratches down his thighs and his eyes are already fluttering shut.

You don’t give him a warning before you take his length in your mouth. You hear him moan and it spurs you on to take him completely, he hits the back of your throat and the sting you feel doesn’t matter when his reactions are so pretty. It makes him hiss and he grabs your shoulder out of desperation. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum if you keep going this hard,” He whispers, his grip tightening slightly.

You pull off briefly to give him an innocent smile and he returns it quickly. “Okay,” You take him into your mouth again after your reply, slowly moving your head back and forth until he’s completely comfortable. His desperate groans are your kryptonite, so you subconsciously speed up and let him adjust to it. The taste of his precum mixed with your saliva is intoxicating, it definitely helps to hear him whining.

You feel him clutch your hair, guiding you slightly further onto him. “Your mouth feels so fucking good, baby,” His voice is laced with so much pleasure that it drives you crazy. This is definitely the messiest blowjob you’ve ever given, but he doesn’t seem to mind how sloppy it is.

You experimentally push his cock to the back of your throat again and he lets out a strangled groan, nearly letting go of your hair. His noises are the only thing filling the room, a mix of whines and moans filling your ears.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” His reply is barely coherent, but it’s enough to know he’s coming towards the edge. You suck him a bit more before you move your mouth off of him again and he complains.

“I’m so close,” He whispers. He watches you stand up and straddle yourself onto his lap. The new friction makes him throw his head back in pleasure, screwing his eyes shut. He’s willing himself to not cum on the spot, focusing instead on your face.

You want to be rational, you should still be between his legs sucking him off so that he can just cum in your mouth. Yet, your core feels so neglected that selfishness takes over.

“I want you to cum in me,” You put on your best innocent voice to try and convince him. His eyebrows raise in suspicion.

“Are you on birth control?” He questions and you nod immediately, leaning down to place kisses in the crook of his neck. You hadn’t had a proper conversation about experimenting during sex, but your drunk subconscious mind decided to speedrun it with him tonight.

“I’m clean, I promise. I’m gonna feel so tight on you, Hao, please,” You put on the charm when you whisper in his ear. When he doesn’t respond immediately, you roll your hips down onto him. He tightens his arms around you with a loud moan that surprises you.

“You’re such a little shit,” He slips his hands underneath your shirt to unhook your bra, throwing it across the room. He squeezes your breasts, kneading them roughly. You let out a breathless moan, the feeling of him finally touching your skin feels more satisfying than you thought it would.

He watches you get undressed before forcing you back onto his lap.

You let him lower you down onto his cock and you both let out filthy moans at the sensation of being inside each other without any barriers. You can feel how sensitive he is inside you, every movement feels far more intense than all the other times you’ve fucked.

“Gonna let you cum first,” You sigh, slowly moving yourself on his cock. He lets out a bitter sounding laugh that you can’t tell if it’s a joke or not.

“So nice of you,” He scratches his nails down your back with a bit of a mean streak. It doesn’t take long before his moans are picking up again, and you think you’d like to return that mean energy of his.

You kiss down his neck, hips still moving rapidly. You pick a random visible spot to suck a mark on his neck, not taking the pain into consideration at all. He stutters out in agony, whining so loudly that it makes you smile against his skin.

“Fucking hell,” He sighs out loud enough for you to contemplate doing it again. You don’t have time to make a decision before he clutches your hips, you feel him clench around you and his cum fills you up quickly. You both still your movements and his mouth is fully agape, his chest heaving from how hard his orgasm hit.

“Don’t move,” He grits out, he’s still panting but he knows he has to act quickly. You know he’s slightly annoyed, but his fingers move to your clit, rubbing you so quickly that your brain can barely catch up.

You can already feel yourself clenching around his cock, he knows how to work you up so intensely that a proper orgasm can hit you out of nowhere.

“Please Hao, please let me,” Your words trail off and you can barely look at him, much less keep still around him.

“Let you do what? You need to tell me,” That teasingly sweet voice of his is anything but helpful at the moment. You’re nearly crying from the pressure on your core, his fingers just won’t stop moving and it makes it so hard not to disobey him.

“Fuck, please let me cum, I can’t hold it,” You’re panting, you think you can feel his cum seeping out of you onto the floor. You look down and it’s true, his cum ended up near your feet. It shouldn’t feel that satisfying, but it is, the overstimulation of fluids makes it hard to deny yourself any more pleasure.

“Then cum,” He makes it sound like it’s nothing, but his nonchalance works so easily on you. You let yourself cum almost immediately, clamping your hand over your mouth to restrain the wildly unpredictable moans coming out of you. The clenching feels so intense that you have to move, you have to do something to combat the pain radiating throughout your body.

After a few moments, he helps you get off of his lap and your legs are shaking, you’ve definitely sobered up a bit from all the action. He finally kisses you, letting his mouth linger on your lips for a few moments so you can savor him. “You did well, darling,” He kisses your cheek before getting up to start your joint aftercare routine.

You watch him with heavy eyelids, and the aftercare seems to happen without much effort on your part. He always dotes on you to a point where you stop trying to fight it, especially now when you’re not exactly drunk or sober to do anything at all.

You’re just lucky to eventually be put in bed with fresh pajamas on. He definitely had to coax you to take your medicine, but things went relatively easily.

It’s only when you’re both falling towards sleep that you feel the urge to hold a conversation again. “Sorry for not finishing you off,” you mumble. You hear him laugh under his breath.

“It’s okay, you’re really keeping me on my toes,” You feel him curl tighter into your side. You hum in response, and you let another minute go by.

“Are you scared things might not work out between us?” You ask suddenly. Your voice comes out much smaller than you wanted it to.

“Sometimes. The month went by pretty quickly,” His response makes you feel less alone in your anxiety. It felt like such a whirlwind romance that you didn’t have much time to enjoy the little intricacies of getting to know each other.

You learned about each other out of desperation, surprised that something fruitful came out of that need to look acceptable as a couple to others.

“I think so too. But whatever happens, it’s still worth it that I got to know you,” You offer, you wish you could see his face so that he saw just how much you meant it.

You didn’t want to picture the past month without him, you can’t imagine a reality where Minghao isn’t there by your side to take care of you.

“Do you think I’m worth all the effort? Do you regret meeting me?” His questions leave a pang of guilt in your heart. He’s usually quite self-sufficient with his worries, typically isolating for a while before coming back to silently ask for kisses and cuddles. Thus, you don’t get many chances to verbalize how much you like him when he’s feeling upset.

“You’re completely worth it, Hao. I don’t regret any of this. You’re so special to me,” You soothe his worries with such sweet words. He takes a moment to process them, until you hear a sniffle.

You grow concerned, so you turn on your lamp. A teary eyed Minghao looks at you with a slight pout. His eyes are slightly puffy and you try not to let any surprise cross your face.

“My baby,” You instinctively pull him into your chest like he’s done it for you so many times. His cries are so quiet, but you can still feel his body shake in your arms.

“You mean a lot to me. I hate hiding my feelings from you,” His tone is somewhat even, most of the emotion doesn’t spill through.

“Whenever you want to tell me anything, I’m here. I like hearing whatever is on your mind,” You leave soft touches on his shoulder. He’s always been quite practical and objective, letting you know exactly how he feels about things, so to see him with his guard down means he trusts you so deeply.

“Okay, I promise I will,” He pulls his face back from your hold to wipe his tears. He grabs your hands and holds them to his chest instead.

“Y/N?” He calls out to you again.

“Yes?”

“I don’t like sleeping without you,” He blinks at you with a small smile. His voice nearly breaks your heart from how cute he sounds.

“I don’t either, and I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Your response makes him close his eyes, nodding softly. You wipe the stray tears still left on his cheeks.

He takes the chance to leave a few pecks on your lips, but you know you need more.

You press your lips to his for a few moments and you can almost feel him melt into your touch. He lets out a quiet satisfied hum the moment you pull away from him.

You turn away to turn off the lamp and he’s already whining, pulling at your arm to stop your movements. “I’m right here, love,” You giggle into his chest, you quickly lie down again to face him in the darkness.

You fall asleep with a few more kisses pressed to your lips, your mutual affection seems to radiate off each other so easily.

You figure this feeling is enough to keep you happy for the rest of your life.

--

The next day, packing your own clothes for the wedding wasn’t hard, but getting Minghao to pack was a bit more difficult.

He insisted that he already put some clothes aside for his suitcase a few days ago, but you don’t notice anything when you enter his closet.

Instead, you’re drawn to his impressive array of clothing. You’re definitely overwhelmed by how cool his pieces are. You figure it’s a mix of clothes he’s made for himself, pieces he’s made for collections that he stole for his own closet, archival designer clothes, and a medley of thrifted clothes sprinkled in.

It was completely foreign to your own closet, it felt like its own little world that you could spend forever in.

When you retreat out of the closet, you notice Minghao is at his desk, hands and body completely still.

He has lots of sketches organized across his desk, but he seems to be staring at one in particular.

“Hao, are you ok, love?” You try. You place your hand on his shoulder and he still doesn’t move.

“My hands aren’t doing what I need them to do,” He hums, blinking at the papers before him.

“Let’s take a break, yeah?” You grab his hands and massage them gently. His eyes flutter shut and he takes a deep breath, slowly leaning into your touch.

“Yeah,” He opens his eyes and slowly stands up from his desk. The promotion is already giving him far more work than before. Despite his position not officially starting until after the wedding, you can sense it’s taking a toll on him already.

You know he’s told you about being a workaholic, but watching him work from home today has made that personality trait even more real in your brain. He gets so focused that it’s hard to break him out of that trance, especially when you try to make him take breaks.

You discover it’s best not to bother him since he has his own internal productivity clock, but you figured it had been a few hours too long since the last break.

You came over to his apartment with the intention of not doing much together anyways, but you didn’t expect him to work the entire time.

“How about we pick out clothes instead?” You suggest, rubbing your hands up and down his arms in a feeble effort to ground him.

“We’re only there for a few days, there’s not much for me to pick out,” He giggles to himself as he looks back at the closet.

Mingyu’s wedding had a formal dress code, but you and Minghao had decided to take an extra day to stay in the vicinity of the small beach town to relax before coming back into town to start the new phases of your professional lives.

“Well, show me these outfits you allegedly picked out, idiot,” You playfully shove him toward the closet and he puts his hands up in defense.

“Fine, fine,” He backs into the closet and turns his attention to the clothes slightly above his eyeline. He grabs a sleek black suit to prop up in his arms.

“Wedding outfit with a nice tie,” He looks at his picks before looking at you for feedback.

The suit was nice, muted enough so that your dress could be the real showstopper. Yet, his tie was still decorated with an intricate pattern that caught your attention.

“Very nice,” You nod and he nods as well before placing it back in the closet. He stays in the closet for a few moments before emerging again with a pastel blue set, a solid button up with matching linen shorts. It was the perfect lazy weekend beach attire.

“And my beach day outfit,” He looks up at you with a proud smile.

“That’s gonna look so pretty on you, especially that color,” You coo at him, your tone gets high at the possibility of seeing him in bright colors. He bites back a smile, but ultimately gives into the compliment with a smirk.

“Thank you,” His voice is a bit smaller now, you notice the tips of his ears are red, but you don’t point it out.

He goes to put the clothes back before your gaze can linger on him for too long, but it’s too late.

You’re already concocting more ways that you can catch him off guard with a compliment.

He pulls out a small black industrial type suitcase out onto the floor of the bedroom, and it suits him completely.

You decide to sit on his bed and watch him pack the suitcase carefully. You’re sure he’s done it countless times that it feels like second nature. You wonder what the inside of his passport looks like, what he’s like on an international flight, the first thing he does in a new country, so many questions about his travel habits plagued you.

His hands treat his clothes so delicately, you can only admire the way he folds his clothes, smoothing his palm across the top to rid any lingering wrinkles before placing them gingerly into the suitcase.

You watch him wander back and forth from the bathroom, casually collecting items to place into side pockets and pouches.

You think you’ve unlocked a new kind of domesticity with him, a silent one where you can adore him from afar without constantly needing to fill the silence. The way his eyes scan the case is enough to keep you captivated.

“Are you enjoying the show?” He brushes his hair back from his forehead, looking up at you suddenly.

“Definitely,” You smile at him with a particular fondness, he senses it with a closed mouth smile.

He closes the top of the suitcase, he’s definitely not done packing for sure, but it’s enough for now when he gets up and sits next to you on the bed.

“Are you nervous about the trip?” His hand finds the nape of your neck easily, slowly rubbing his fingers against your skin.

“Slightly,” You close your eyes for a moment before blinking back at him. He hums in understanding.

“Besides him being there, do you like weddings?” He continues his soft movements, but tries to engage with you further.

“I do,” You can’t help the smile that makes its way onto your face, it’s hard to contain yourself.

“Tell me more,” He giggles at your sudden excitement, he shifts his weight to account for your now perky mood, now absentmindedly playing with your hands.

“Everything about them just makes me happy, I like seeing people in love,” Your tone of voice is so far up in the clouds that he can tell you’re daydreaming.

“Do you think you’ll ever be in love?” His question grounds your dreams instantly.

It shouldn’t unnerve you this much.

You want to tell him that you’re already in love with him, but the words are lodged in your throat so tightly that you can’t do much about it. You can only take a breath and hope he doesn’t notice how much that question affects you.

Yet, you know how he is. He notices something happening with you before you do.

“I’m sure I will,” You nod in affirmation in hopes that he leaves it alone, that he won’t press you any further about the topic.

He doesn’t ask you verbally, but his eyes search yours with a hope that you mean you’ll fall in love with him.

“I know you will. You’re perfect,” His words are laced with so much affection that it almost hurts to hear, so sickly sweet that your heart practically feels weighed down from the kindness of it.

It’s enough to pull him in for a kiss, to help him achieve that feeling in your chest. His lips slot into yours so naturally at this point, you don’t have to try too hard at it before he senses your needs.

He deepens the kiss ever so slightly, but it still leaves your heart fluttering. The tension recreates itself the moment he looks into your eyes. He leaves you breathless and you can feel the slight puffiness of your lips now that you’re away from his mouth.

No matter what he just did, you can’t make each other say what you truly mean.

It’s too much when you’re both packing for a trip where you’re meant to play up a lie that no longer feels like a lie. The relationship is so fragile that it has to keep unfolding in its own time, it’s not meant to handle a rushed confession.

You both deserve better than that.

“You think I’m perfect?” You finally respond to his statement. He sighs with a particularly sweet smile on his face.

“Absolutely,” He examines your face long enough for you to feel safe under his gaze. After a while, you watch him get up to finish organizing his suitcase and you’re not sure what makes you upset.

You wrestle with your feelings as he zips up his suitcase, pushing it to a corner in his room. He convinces you to get ready for bed with him, and it helps you push away the thoughts for now.

No matter what happens this weekend, he’ll be with you. You can only hope that’s enough for you to feel safe.

—

Road trips were a rare occasion for Minghao. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy them, but he never had a good reason to spontaneously travel or the time to take them very often.

Thus, the trip up to the wedding would be momentous. Minghao has read that the strength of relationships are tested when you travel with your partner, and it’s the first time he’s properly done it with anyone he’s dating.

He wants to do it right, so he hopes to make the weekend perfect, starting with getting off work early to mentally prepare himself for the journey.

He would be driving, not that he didn’t trust you, but he was slightly protective of his car. He would’ve insisted on driving you both regardless if you tried to fight him on it, not wanting you to overexert yourself a few days after such a big flare up.

He makes sure you’re as comfortable as possible in the passenger seat, confirming that you have snacks and your comfort items to keep you interested. He triple checks that you have your engagement ring on and you’re nearly cackling at him for being so worried. When he estimated the trip to be a few hours, he didn’t expect it to be 3.5 hours instead.

Yet, the hotel reservations were booked and there’s no viable way to fly to the small town, so he comes to terms with the parameters of the trip.

He’s grateful that you’re actively engaging him in conversation, he needs the mental stimulation to keep himself awake. He already let you pick the playlist to soundtrack the trip which kept you even more energetic.

“So when are we hypothetically getting married?” You ask without warning. “Just in case somebody asks, which I know they will,” He can tell your voice has that little self assured tone to it which makes him smile.

“This time next year, in the summer,” He takes a quick look at you before focusing on the road again.

“Ooh, a summer wedding would be pretty,” You affirm his thoughts. “Where would it be though?”

“Where would you like it to be?” He counters and it catches you off guard. He listens to you ponder your answer with a quiet hum before speaking up.

“I love the idea of it in a garden, like either outside in a garden or in those beautiful indoor greenhouse rooms with the garden outside of it,” The hypothetical details start to build a mental image that makes him excited.

“That sounds beautiful. So it sounds like it won’t be a destination wedding?”

“Absolutely not. It’s nice in theory, but logistically it might be hard for people to get there,” Your tone is resolute, making Minghao giggle as he clutches the steering wheel.

“You’re thinking of our future guests’ well-being already, you’re so sweet,” He coos at you with a pinch to your cheek, his gaze still focused on the road ahead. You were always thinking of other people, never yourself. Even if you wanted an international wedding, you should be able to put your foot down about what you want instead of centering others.

“It’s just a nice thing to do! Besides, there are plenty of nice gardens here,” You reply softly. He wonders if you’ve mentally picked out a venue yet, if you know the ins and outs of the best gardens around the country. He wants to know more, but he decides to keep moving.

“Ok, how many people would be coming to the wedding then?” He raises his eyebrows.

“No more than 300,” The reply comes almost immediately, “I don’t think I even know 100 people,” Your voice turns slightly concerned at the thought, but he’s quick to reassure you.

“That makes sense, bigger weddings kind of become more of a spectacle than focusing on the marriage itself. It’s weird,” He shakes his head at the idea of it. To him, weddings should feel somewhat intimate, and having over 1,000 people watch you get married makes him feel a bit unsettled.

“Exactly! We’re not celebrities, just people. Please keep the fashion industry invites to a minimum,” You joke and it makes him laugh.

“Trust me, most of them would not be coming,” He rolls his eyes and repositions his hands on the wheel. As much as he likes his work, it had to be separate from his personal life as much as possible now that you worked there too. There had to be some distance, even if this wedding wouldn’t be a problem in the immediate future.

“Sounds like you'd like to be involved in wedding planning then.”

“Yes, for sure. You shouldn’t have to do that alone, it’s my wedding too,” He whines lightly at the end of the sentence and now it’s your turn to fawn over him.

“Of course, love. I can’t imagine doing it alone,” You card your fingers through his hair and he sighs gently at your touch. This kind of daydreaming makes Minghao want to propose all over again just to give you that perfect garden wedding.

He can already picture you both on your not so hypothetical wedding day, it all aligns in his brain so perfectly that it feels too good to be true. He knows he’s jumping too far into the future, but he can’t help it when you give him so much to work with. He knows the timeline in between matters as well, everything about you matters to him.

The wedding banter goes on for a bit longer until you fall asleep. That makes up the bulk of the trip, him driving with your music playing softly in the background while you’re cuddled up against the window. He prefers driving in relative silence, it gives him the space to think about everything coming within the next day.

He honestly doesn’t know how you’ll fare when you see Joshua again, considering how difficult the entire situation has been for you. Frankly, he doesn’t know how he’ll act around Joshua either knowing just how much he’s hurt you. He can only hope you choose yourself and your own feelings first.

He knows you’re a heavy sleeper, but he discovers it even more now. When someone tries to cut him off on the highway, he’s forced to honk his horn but he looks over to discover you’re still dead asleep.

The slight dips in the road and any slight swerves he makes to avoid potholes don’t disturb you much at all besides the occasional stirring in your sleep.

He eventually stops about 2 and a half hours into the journey to get gas and stretch his legs, but he’s still in good spirits overall. Somehow, the stopped car doesn’t wake you up, something he uses to his advantage.

He grabs his phone to take photos of you, angling himself in as many different ways possible to capture you. He smiles to himself as he quickly scrolls through the photos to choose a new one for his lockscreen. He still hadn’t changed it, he felt like none of his pictures captured that unspeakable feeling you give him until now.

He thinks you’re absolutely adorable, your arms are tightly crossed across your chest with your hands hidden by your hoodie sleeves. At some point before you fell asleep, you pulled the strings tight enough that your head was almost swallowed up by the fabric, to him you looked like a little egg. It was definitely picture worthy in his mind, and he was lucky enough that he got the pictures before you woke up.

“Hao? Are we there yet?” You ask him sleepily, eyes blinking open slowly.

“Not yet, darling. We’ve got another hour or so,” He rubs your thigh gently. You only nod and settle back into a comfortable position, facing your body away from Minghao towards the window.

He realizes something as he starts the car again, pulling back onto the roads to finish the last leg of the drive.

It sets in more as the sun sets on the horizon, even further when he parks the car and takes a deep breath to himself. He helps you wake up completely so you can both get your luggage out of the car. The check in process goes easily, but it’s not until you’re both in the elevator that it hits him.

He loves you.

He loves the way you always lean into his touch, how you give him the space to be himself, the subtle ways you look after him that he can’t always verbalize.

He loves that despite everything, you still love so fiercely.

He grew into his love for you, the pieces of it came together without him even realizing it. He didn’t want to admit it when Soonyoung and Chan kept telling him how head over heels he was for you, especially when he found a way to come over to your apartment almost every day just so he could see you.

He didn’t want to admit how many times he restarted the sketching process for the dress, how he held a meticulous eye over his sewing machine so that every stitch held a bit of his love for you. He wanted to make sure that all of the extra time he spent on small details would show even a fraction of his adoration for you.

He loves you and he wonders if he’ll be able to say it out loud before you go back home.