smii7y & friends x reader

Not Enough: RaccoonEggs

***this is another suggestion, from @Me_Tuer, so i hope you enjoy, and have a splendid day (:***

Her computer beeped again, signifying a Skype notification was coming in. She stood up from her bed, throwing her phone onto her bedside table, and walked towards the desktop that displayed a certain name. It was her best friend, Ezra. He was asking if she was ready to get into the call, where he talked with her about different girls, and ones he was especially into. He was coming to her with more things about the Mystery Girl that he was into this week. Most weeks, it didn't bother her, because (name) and Ezra were friends, and nothing more. But lately, the girls he had described for her to guess were becoming more and more detailed, and she felt little painful pangs in her heart.

She joined the call, and was immediately hit with, "Okay. This week's girl is short." 

"Short? Sounds like the shit you like." She looked down at her hands, unsure of what to do with them. The conversation had already become uncomfortable for her, and it was only the beginning. 

"Yeah, she's super hot. Don't worry, though, you'll get her, I promise." Hot? How would she compete with someone he thought was hot? 

Last week, she'd guessed wrong, but he never had to tell her if she didn't guess it. This week was no different. She tried to distract herself from her thoughts, and continued. "Short. Okay, what color hair does she have?"

"Easy, tiger. I'm getting to it." His little chuckle at the end made her smile. "I won't tell you, again, this week, because it'll give it away." Her face was a little flushed, thinking about Ezra with another girl's hands tangled into his hair. It made her angrily jealous, and she had no idea of how to attack this. She knew her voice was getting higher in pitch the more they talked, but she didn't want to stop hearing his smooth, sleek voice. 

She sighed. "So what hints can you give me?" She asked, wrapping her headset cord around and around her index finger. 

"Not many, other than that she's the same girl from last week. She recently picked up photography, and I think she went on a field trip to a cave with her school when she was in fourth grade?"

"That's everyone in the midwest, though," she said, scratching her head a little. 

A chuckle came through her headset. "Which part?"

"The field trip part," she said, chuckling. "Not photography."

There was a hint of laughter in his voice, as he continued. "Oh, right, because photography is every teenage girl in the country."

She broke down into giggles, and bit her lip. She wanted to be around him more than whoever this girl was, no matter who she was. He was hilarious, and they spent most of their days talking and laughing. It used to be okay with her that they played these games, but nowadays it did nothing but hurt her directly in her heart. 

It's not like she could do anything about it. Well, she could technically tell him her feelings, but she'd seen some of her friends hit on him, and it hadn't gone well at all. They hadn't just been turned down, they'd been shut down, completely and utterly. 

*

"What do you mean, Phoebe?" She tapped her pen against the half-written essay she had on her desk. Her name was scribbled sloppily in black ink, and the rest was in blue. 

Short gasps of breath and sobbing could be heard from the other end of the phone. Phoebe had talked to Ezra recently about going out for drinks or something.

"He-he's a monster, (name)! You have to be careful! I know--," she was cut off, mid-sentence, by a hiccup. "I know you talk to him everyday. Just... Don't get attached to him, please. Promise me!" Phoebe's voice had taken a sharp right, becoming desperate. "Don't let him hurt you!"