#Its dangerous to go alone ♡ take this

[euri-matsuri]

been obsessed with the eminem throwing meme. did it once as a bit and now its ongoing

[kittywhimsical]

thinking about simon riley waiting for you when you come home from work.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

during the times he's been on deployment, you still had to wake up every weekday at 6 and go to work from 7 to 3 which fills the empty void in your heart but still, you dread to go back to an empty home.

so, when simon comes back after 3 long months on deployment, he sets his bags down and kicks his boots off, treading to the bathroom and taking a shower so at least he doesn't reek of sweat and war when his missus comes home. he turns the shower off, gets changed, makes himself a cuppa, and sits on the couch patiently waiting for you.

when he hears your car parking in the driveway, he can't help but feel his lips curl up a bit knowing you won't walk into an empty house anymore.

unlocking the door, you let out a long, exhausted sigh after a day of scolding interns who barely do their job right. much to your surprise, after walking in and taking off your shoes, you see your husbands boots on the spot of the rack that has been empty for the past 3 months. whipping your head around, you see simon riley smiling right at you, sitting on the couch in your shared living room.

"simon!" you let out as you run over to your husband, engulfing him in an embrace he reciprocates with his bear hugs. "hi luvie" he responds back as he nuzzles his face into your neck, "i missed you".

that night, he tells you that he's decided to resign from the 141, saying that he can't go to war knowing the dangers and turmoil it may bring in future deployments. and knowing that you are home alone every night, worrying about him, having to lay alone in your shared bed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

this is my first drabble (i think thats what its called?) likes + reblogs or comments are much appreciated !!

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ synopsis. boothill always needs to spit on your cunt before going down on you // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡ cw. spit kink, very messy, oral (fem! receiving) <3, fem! reader ���

boothill can't stop himself from watching you, it's everlasting, when he's looking at the distinctness of your responses while he's dragging this out.

it's almost dangerous to watch you— you're so sweet he might as well just get addicted to your taste. it's a given to the man, that he always need to spit on your soft pussy while wittingly panting his hot breath against your clit.

when you're all wet and drenched for him, he knows you're enjoying yourself, apart from how sensually you were clutching at his hair strands.

you've lost against the sparks scattering in your thighs, noticing a numbness to your legs as he melts his tongue along your hot skin before a pitchy whimper seeps from your lips, responding just as feverishly to his sultry licks.

he pulls his face off your cunt, feeling slightly unhinged the more he heard you whine in shambles before he bundles up enough saliva to drop a globe of spit against your weeping folds.

the slick wetness still connects to his bottom lip and its almost made you unravel right there, the sight of it was was just too hot, in fact, you can't even fathom that boothill was yours, and yours alone.

you can never take your eyes off him, always raveling at the sensation of how his fleshy muscle was twisting between your folds tentatively in order to brush all the way inside before he presses his palms up to caress your breasts.

how wet you've gotten in combination with your own oozy arousal and his spit repeatedly fusing with your juices, or the tremendous glow of his spit dripping through his mouth as he wraps his lips around your clit to suck the nerves inside his warmth hard, not to forget the evident puffiness of your folds— boothill cannot satiate this feeling in his stomach and neither could you get used to how well he knew his way around your body.

you're trapped in a tornado of bliss, sweetly moaning from his raw drags of tongue that overtook you, blossomed in your chest and intoxicated you with strong throbs of your hole clamping around air, only hoping he's put more attention there.

on reflex, your hips attempt to twitch away from his mouth before he roughly readjusts you back at him with a cheeky smirk. his hot breathing was ghosting across the torridity of your billowy folds— on purpose, it seems, it's easy to see how it's riling you up.

how unrestrictedly attractive it was for your boyfriend to eat you out like he's had a hopeless hunger for the taste of you while at the same time, tracing along your body as fragile as to a butterfly.

recognising your enjoyment by sound and taste alone— the clear look of bliss and comfort in your face was necessary to the man as oxygen or water was to a human.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[thewickedjazzy]

Blood, Sweat & Tears [Sex Pollen] for Kinktober.

♡「knight! akutagawa x afab! reader.」

Synopsis: you drag your loyal knight to a secluded antique shop, unaware that a cursed relic would force him to quench his insatiable desire for you, leaving him one choice only...fuck or watch you both die.

Warnings and w/c: 3.1k. ņsfw, smųt with plot, dead dove ー read at your own risk, dub-con, blood, cum, manipulation, age gap (aku is in his 30s YUM), sex pollen (obv.) slight implied knife play (rashomon)...etc.

“ryuu-kun, c'mon! why are you so stiff? just relax!” you giggle softly, tugging on the poor man's black shoulder cape as you practically drag him toward the entrance of the haunted antique shop.

truth be told, akutagawa wasn’t hesitant —at least, not for the reasons you assumed. the idea of going against the king’s orders wasn’t something he took lightly. defying authority was not a habit for a devoted knight like him, and he had never imagined himself in a situation like this. but for you?

oh — for you, he would go against any order. he would take any risk just to see your eyes light up, to hear that carefree laugh of yours that always seemed to make the heavy burdens on his heart feel lighter. lord! how he loves to just see your cheeks flush, the delicate pink hue resembling the sakura in full bloom ー his new favorite colour.

akutagawa had been by your side for years, from your childhood through your teenage years, and now, as you stepped into adulthood, he couldn't help but notice how things had changed. he had seen your growth with his own eyes, and it disturbed him more than he'd ever admit. you were becoming someone who could get into trouble with ease, and while he was too loyal to question you, the protective instinct in him was stronger than ever.

“i’m relaxed, with all due respect, don't you think you're being a bit reckless?” despite his apparent annoyance, his eyes soften as they find yours. there was something captivating about the way your eyes glimmer under the poor light of the shop, like stars in a forgotten sky.

you step further into the abandoned shop, soft giggles echo as akutagawa’s reluctant footsteps follow close behind. the place feels like it hasn’t seen sunlight in ages, dust dances in the beams filtering through the cracked windows, illuminating shelves filled with eerie artifacts and relics of a forgotten age. for you? this was simply an adventure — a moment of thrill in an otherwise carefully controlled life.

“look, ryuu-kun! isn’t it fascinating?” you point toward an ornate mirror standing tall at the back of the shop. its frame is twisted, covered in intricate carvings that seem almost to shift as you stare at them. “wooah! i’ve never seen anything like it.”

the knight watches you approach the mirror, every instinct tells him this place isn’t safe, that there’s a dark enchantment here that could harm you. but your enthusiasm and willingness to explore, pulls him in against his better judgment.

“your highness...” he says softly despite the danger evident in his voice, “don’t touch it. we don’t know what kind of curse or magic might lie within that thing.”

but of course you’re already inches away, mesmerized by your own reflection in the mirror’s surface as if it almost seems to beckon you, whispering captivating, incoherent lullabies that you can’t quite decipher. your fingers reach out, grazing the glass searching for the source of the sound. but the moment you make contact, an odd chill courses through you, and the reflection changes, warping, revealing shadows of something darker within.

and suddenly, you’re not looking at yourself anymore. instead, you see visions flickering across the mirror — scenes of solitude, a vast, empty world where you stand utterly alone. the cheerful warmth in your chest vanishes, replaced by a cold sense of despair. you try your best to step back, but your gaze remains locked onto the mirror as if bound by an invisible force.

akutagawa’s eyes widen as he watches you freeze, your expression shifting from delight to horror. without a second thought, he lunges forward, pulling you away, but not before his eyes accidentally catch his own reflection. and again, the mirror’s black magic grips him, and for a fleeting moment, he sees something horrifying — the blood stained memories of his past in the port mafia, of every life he’s taken, every failure, every ounce of suffering he encountered.

���r-ryuu-kun…” you try to speak but you're disoriented...pale, leaning against him as you struggle to steady your breathing.

he shakes himself free, grip tightening slightly on your arm. “we need to leave. NOW.”

you nod, feeling a strange, lingering heaviness creeping inside your chest. arguing feels pointless, afterall he’s the reason you’re still alive and kicking up till now. you murmur a soft “i’m sorry,” but he doesn’t respond. without a glance, he strides toward the door pulling you along with him.

and just as he reaches the threshold, a sweet, floral yet infused with a dangerously intoxicating heady scent looms around you both, almost as if the scent itself seeps into your senses, leaving your body heating up and your thoughts hazy.

“ryuu?… i don’t feel well-… what do we—what's happening to me?” your voice is barely audible, the heat sensation spreading through you rapidly, making your cheeks flush more and your breaths come quicker, each inhale carrying more of that cloying scent, filling your senses until all you can think about is the knight by your side.

“it's the curse,” he mutters, “i-it won't break unless we give... blood, and... uh- more.”

you look up at him and it’s clear he’s struggling just as much, flushed and panting heavily. you instinctively cling to him, seeking closure against your own will, and he finds himself leaning closer, almost reflexively. despite the losing battle within him to resist, he begins to tell himself that perhaps fulfilling this desire is the only way to break free of the mirror’s spell? perhaps it's the only way to truly protect you? there’s no time to consider if it’s twisted or not, he's silently beating himself up for letting you get hurt in the first place.

he tries his best to keep his thoughts under control, but it's nearly impossible with the enchanted pollen's effect taking over his mind and turning him into a puppet of it's own making and the line between his sense of duty to protect you and his desire to make the aching pain in his pants go away becomes harder to see.

“your majesty..” he murmurs almost apologetically as he lowers his face close to yours, a deep blush spreads across your cheeks as you finally understand — this isn't just about you and him anymore. this is about survival, about breaking the curse that binds you. blood and cum must mix in order for the magic to release its grip. is it grotesque? yes, but in this moment, it’s the only way out.

your eyes are heavily half-lidded, lips parted perfectly, a few beads of sweat trace your cupid’s bow as you clench onto him with wobbly legs, your thoughts absolutely shameless, cunt instinctively clenching around nothing, are you actually craving him? the knight who has been by your side for so many years — the one who’s spent countless hours guarding and protecting you — is now stirring feelings you’d only ever brushed aside. you would be lying if you said that you never thought of him this way, there was something about the familiar warmth he carried that made you want to stay wrapped in his arms forever.

“ryuu-kun.. i-it hurts so bad— please make it stop.” you cry, though you're not sure whether you're asking for release from the curse or for something else entirely. the look you're giving him is so pathetic that he can't help but dart out his tongue to wet his lips, before smashing his lips on yours feverishly, you both grunt in relief, you're not sure what's happening but it's seems to work. he slips his agile tongue between your parted lips, spit mingles with lewd mewls as he pins you against the wall, hands fumbling with his garments, taking his pants off, unbuttoning his black tonic, almost everything as to free himself from the suffocating layers of fabric, before fully pressing his bare upper body against yours.

“your highness... i'm sorry,” the words are soft, but the look in his eyes is anything but. there’s a lurking emotion there that he rarely reveals— less guilt, and more... eagerness? surely he knows the stakes of this spell too well. he understands the strength and danger of it, how it could kill you both in less than an hour if you don’t break it. yet, akutagawa’s no saint. he's a deviant, laced with sin and shameless thirst, an absolute reprobate. even as he’s forced into this for your survival. there’s an obscene side to him he can’t hide, a filthy hunger in how his gaze trails over your body, wondering how it’ll feel when you’re wrapped tight around him, how you’ll respond to him thrusting into you. will you bite back a scream? will you moan his name, too breathless, too fucked out to form a word?

either ways, there's no point for him to guess as he'll be witnessing it shortly. strong and boney hands tremble as they run wild against your body till they reach your pants pulling them down, he's too engrossed in your details as a muffled groan escapes his pretty lips before he slides down your nectar-soaked panties, taking both your legs wrapping them around his narrow waist, holding you close as if he can’t bear the thought of you slipping away from him. with a shaky sigh as he pops the buttons of your shirt, catching the beautiful euphoric sight of your breasts spilling over your bra.

“there's no time, please trust me on this,” just a few words to trick himself that what he's doing is only for your survival. his disheveled black and white locks brush your cheek as he presses quick, breathless kisses to your temple.

you manage to nod, feeling his hard cock press against your puffy folds from beneath, and your hips subconsciously buck yearning for any friction to ease the swell of pain building rapidly in your core.

however, it's short-lived, as in mere seconds, he's plunging into you with a deep, throaty groan, his entire body trembling as if he's been transported to another dimension. a wave of tingling ecstasy floods through him, muscles tightening as his fingers dig into your bare shoulders, holding you close.

“f-fuhckmmh- your highness-” he whimpers against your ear, the heat radiating from his body is absolutely insane, “forgiv-e me—,”another thrust, “i am bound to protect you��� not to desecrate you like this.”

“i-it's fine,” you murmur, soft fingers gripping his face to force him to look at you. “i trust you ryuu-kun.”

what other options do you have? none.

he just stares at you for a few seconds before thrusting again. his hips start moving leisurely at first, stretching you deliciously as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his mesmerising scent, feeling every agonising movement of his flawless cock picking up its pace by each passing second and the instant he bottoms out, he practically 'pounds' into you deeper, harder, each stroke finding a new angle that leaves you gasping for air.

his own pleasure is muffling his ears. he still cannot believe it. he's been waiting for this moment his entire life, to finally fuck his monarch that's been taking over his thoughts each passing night, getting him atrociously horny.

“oh god, you feel ngh~ heavenly—,” it's a whisper more to himself, knobby hands gripping the swell of your ass as he rams into you manically, “blood...we- fuck! have to mix blood.”

before you can make sense of it, he conjures a faint trace of rashomon from his tonic, its shadowy tendrils coiling around his sleeve, sharp enough to slice yet gentle in his intent. he presses the edge to your palm, watching a bead of crimson pool against your skin.

the sharp sting pulls a gasp from your lips, your dazed mind barely registering the act before akutagawa does the same to himself. dark silver eyes smoulder with lust as he guides both your bleeding palms to his cock, smearing the mingled blood over it, the warm slickness adding to the sinful mess already coating him.

“ryuu-” you breathe, with a trembling voice, whether from pain or arousal, you’re not sure.

his eyes meet yours before you feel the soft clouds of his lips crash onto yours, it's all desperate and messy, teeth nipping at your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. the metallic tang spreads across your tongue, blending with the taste of him as he drinks in your broken moans, tongue delves deeper into your mouth, spit melding together as he aligns himself with your slit once more. his blood-slickened cock slides back into you, each thrust feels heavier, deeper, as if the leverage of the curse itself presses against you both, urging you to fulfill its dark demands.

“just a litt-le more,” he rasps, teeth scraping along the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a delicate trail of violet bruises and ruptured vessels.

a borderline salacious symphony of sounds echoes, wet and obscene, sopping and slick, each thrust accompanied by a squeaky rhythm as his balls slap against your pillowy ass cheeks. your eyes roll back in a bliss, glossy lips parting lusciously in a wanton moan, every vein and ridge of him dragging you closer to euphoric oblivion.

“ryuu... i can’t...” you sob, nails digging into his back as the pressure in your core mounts, legs trembling around his waist. “i... i can’t take it anymore...”

“stay with me, your majesty haah,” he murmurs breathlessly, lips brushing against your ear as he drives into you deeper. “we need... to break it. just a little longer... please...”

his hands clutch at your hips, pulling you into each thrust until all that’s left is the white-hot pressure of the spell, of the lust, threatening to swallow you both. his cock throbs inside you, and it’s clear— he can’t hold back any longer.

“please, ryuu... i’m—” you bite your lip, unable to finish as the knot in your belly tightens, ready to burst.

akutagawa's focus narrows, all he can think about is you, how your breasts bounce with each thrust, body arching beneath his, exposing the delicate curve of your neck— everything about you is perfect in this moment, and he can't tear his eyes away. the sight of your face contorted in pleasure, the pout tugging on your lips, the way your legs tremble, how your hips move to meet his, how your nails drag across his back starved for his naked skin. is this his body on yours? is he finally feeling you? kissing you? fucking you?

'god, look at you,' he can barely think, his thoughts fragmented, lost in the instinctual need to bury himself deeper, to take more, to feel more. the way you tighten around him, the slick, wet warmth of your cunt — he’s fucking drowning in it.

'fucking beautiful.'

a few thrusts of akutagawa’s hips and his name tears from your lips in a breathless, desperate cry, the sound of your orgasm crashing over you like a truck, slamming into him with brutal force. your walls flutter and clench around his cock, milking him, dragging him deeper into the molten heat of your release.

his vision blurs, heart thundering in his chest as his hearing dulls to nothing but the wet, obscene noises of your bodies joined together. for the first time in his life, he is obliterated by the sheer, soul-stealing intensity of his orgasm, his cock still twitching violently as he spills deep inside you, his seed mingles with the blood smeared between you, the combined essence finally breaking the curse’s seal.

“i-is it over?”

akutagawa doesn’t answer immediately, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he struggles to gather himself. his meaty length that's still buried inside you twitches, body refusing to move, refusing to let go of the impossible warmth and tightness of your walls. the thought of pulling out feels unbearable, like he’d be severing himself from something sacred.

“yes,” he finally rasps, “the curse is broken.”

still, he doesn’t move, his grip on your hips tightening imperceptibly. every inch of him aches to stay like this, to savor the raw, feral perfection of you wrapped around him. but he won’t say it — not to you, not to your highness. it’s not his place to speak such desires aloud. instead, he forces himself to swallow the words, forcing his breathing to even out as he pulls out of you despite the burning need still coiling in his gut.

without a word, he moves to gather your clothes, fingers brushing over your skin tenderly in a way that feels foreign coming from him, as if he’s afraid that, if he rushes, it’ll break something.

“rest, your highness. please, don’t move,” he ties the fabric hovering near your ear as his soft upper lip brushes your sensitive skin with a low murmur. “you’re safe now.”

“safe...” you repeat the word, almost testing it on your tongue.

“at least for now, but the curse... it doesn’t work like that. it’s not just broken once. it could flare up again in a few days... and when it does,” he pauses, allowing his words to settle in for a few seconds. “we’ll have to repeat the ritual.”

he’s a liar. a filthy, self-loathing liar.

the curse is broken. it has been broken since that moment. nothing will flare up again. it’s absolutely impossible. the ritual is complete. there is no reason for him to say this, no reason at all. but still, he can’t help himself. he lies, not to protect you—but to keep you. to keep you near him, just a little longer.

“we’ll have our next time soon,” he mutters to himself, he hates himself for it. every fiber of his being recoils at the thought of deceiving you like this, manipulating you with his twisted words, but the words are already sealed in his mind. mostly like a promise — one he will keep. and this time, he won’t stop.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguru @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr @perlaslibrary @remlionheart @osamucide @ranpazz @naviiq

[moonlightwritingf1]

Holiday Movie Marathon | LN4

❄️‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❄️ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N attends a spontaneous movie night at Lando’s, where their usual banter deepens into a confession of feelings. Lando reveals he feels the same, and they share a kiss. 

❄️‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❄️ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

❄️‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❄️ word count ━━━━━━━ 1.7k

The streets of London were aglow with twinkling fairy lights, the holiday season blanketing the city in a warm, magical glow. Y/N stepped out of her office building, wrapping her coat tightly around her as the December chill bit at her cheeks. It was just another evening in her life—a quiet one, predictable even. But tonight held the promise of something different.

A soft chime from her phone pulled her from her thoughts. Pulling her gloves off, she fished it out of her pocket. The message was from Max, the mutual friend who had introduced her to Lando Norris a few months ago.

Max: "Change of plans—movie night at Lando’s instead of mine. You in?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go. She did. But spending the evening at Lando’s flat felt… significant in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready to confront. Still, before she could overthink it, she typed a quick response.

Y/N: "Sure. What time?"

By the time Y/N arrived at Lando’s flat, it was a little after 7 PM. The air was crisp, her breath visible as she exhaled. Standing at his door, she adjusted her scarf nervously. It wasn’t the first time she’d been here, but it still felt surreal. Lando’s world—his high-profile lifestyle, his effortless charm—always felt a little removed from her own quiet, 9-to-5 existence.

The door opened before she could knock, revealing Lando with a tray of drinks in his hands. His face lit up when he saw her.

"Y/N!" he said warmly, stepping back to let her in.

"Hey," she replied, her voice soft. She shrugged off her coat, her sweater clinging to her frame as she smoothed it nervously.

"I’m glad you made it," he said, setting the tray down on the coffee table in the living room. His grin turned a little sheepish. "Max bailed last minute, so it’s just us tonight."

Her stomach flipped. "Oh. Um… I can leave if you—"

"Don’t even think about it," he cut her off, his grin widening as he turned to her. "You’re not leaving me to watch Love Actually alone."

Y/N laughed, a sound that was light but genuine. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"Exactly," he said, handing her a steaming mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. "Now, come on. Couch is ready. Snacks are ready. All we need is you."

The two of them settled into the large sectional sofa, blankets draped over their laps and snacks within arm’s reach. The first movie played in the background, though neither of them paid much attention to it at first. Their conversation flowed easily, punctuated by Lando’s teasing remarks.

"So, do you always root for the bad guys in movies?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as she defended yet another movie villain.

"Only when they make sense," Y/N shot back, her cheeks warming under his amused gaze.

"You’re dangerous, you know that?" he said, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"I make no promises," she replied, her voice bolder than she expected.

Lando chuckled, his laughter rich and warm, and Y/N felt her chest tighten. Being around him was like standing in the sun—bright and intoxicating, but overwhelming if she stayed too long.

Somewhere between the second and third movie, the teasing faded, replaced by a comfortable silence. It wasn’t until Y/N shifted slightly that she realized how close they’d become. Lando’s head had found its way to her shoulder, his body leaning into hers as his breathing slowed.

Her heart raced as she glanced down at him. He looked peaceful, his long lashes resting against his cheeks, his usual playful expression softened in sleep.

She allowed herself a moment to take him in, her thoughts drifting. Over the months since they’d met, Lando had become more than just a mutual friend. Despite his glamorous life, he had a way of making her feel seen, like she was the only person in the room when he looked at her. He was warm and thoughtful, funny in a way that disarmed her.

And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to admit how she felt.

Thinking he was fully asleep, Y/N let the words slip out in a whisper. "I really wish you knew how much I like you."

She froze as his eyes fluttered open, locking onto hers.

"How much of that did you think I didn’t hear?" he asked, his voice husky from sleep, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips.

Her face turned crimson. "I—I thought you were asleep!"

"Clearly not," he murmured, sitting up slightly but still leaning into her space. "So… how much do you like me?"

"Lando…" she started, but the words caught in her throat.

"No, no," he said gently, his smirk softening into a sincere smile. "Don’t back out now. I want to hear it."

She looked away, her heart pounding in her chest. "I… I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should."

"Why 'should'?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious.

"Because… you’re you. And I’m just me," she admitted quietly.

His frown deepened at that. He reached out, tilting her chin so she’d face him. "What’s that supposed to mean? Y/N, you’re amazing. You’re smart, funny, and you make me feel like just a normal guy when I’m around you. I like that. I like you."

She blinked at him, her mind struggling to process his words. "You… like me?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" he teased, though there was an edge of vulnerability in his voice.

"I mean, yeah," she admitted with a nervous laugh.

"Well, believe it," he said firmly, his eyes holding hers. "And just so you know, I don’t fall asleep during movie nights with people I don’t care about."

A soft laugh escaped her, her chest feeling impossibly light. "So this is your version of a compliment?"

"Pretty much," he said, his grin returning. "But if you need more convincing…"

Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was both soft and certain.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of quiet laughter, shared glances, and stolen kisses. By the time the final movie ended, Y/N was curled up against Lando, his arm draped over her shoulders as though it had always belonged there. The warmth of his presence made the room feel smaller, cozier—like their own little world.

But as the credits rolled, the reality of the time set in. Y/N stretched slightly, reluctant to move, but knowing she had to.

"I should probably get going," she murmured, glancing at the clock.

Lando tightened his arm around her for a moment, his reluctance to let her go clear. "You sure? You could stay a little longer. Maybe one more movie?"

Y/N chuckled softly. "It’s past midnight, Lando. If I stay any longer, I might as well sleep here."

His lips curved into a teasing smirk. "I wouldn’t mind that."

Her cheeks warmed at the suggestion, though she shook her head. "Nice try."

Sighing dramatically, he stood up, offering her a hand to pull her to her feet. "Alright, but I’m not just letting you take the train this late. I’ll drive you home."

"Lando, you don’t have to—"

"Y/N," he interrupted, already grabbing his jacket. "I want to."

She opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she saw the firm set of his jaw. There was no point in arguing; he’d already made up his mind.

The streets of London were quieter now, the usual hum of the city softened by the late hour. Lando’s car cut through the cool night, the soft sound of music filling the space between them.

Y/N glanced out the window, her head leaning lightly against the seat. The night had been surreal—what had started as a casual movie night had shifted into something so much more.

"Quiet over there," Lando said, glancing at her briefly before returning his focus to the road. "Penny for your thoughts?"

She hesitated for a moment before turning to him. "Just… thinking about tonight. About you."

His lips tugged into a small smile. "Good things, I hope."

"Mostly," she teased, her lips curving into a faint smile.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Careful, Y/N. Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you enjoy giving me a hard time."

"Someone has to keep you humble," she replied, the playful banter easing her nerves.

When they pulled up outside her flat, the quiet between them grew heavy—not uncomfortable, but charged with unspoken emotions. Lando turned off the engine and shifted to face her.

"Thanks for driving me," Y/N said softly, her fingers fiddling with the strap of her bag.

"Anytime," he replied, his tone sincere. "I meant what I said earlier, by the way."

She looked at him, her brows furrowing slightly. "About what?"

"About this being a tradition," he said, his gaze steady on hers. "And about wanting to keep you around for a long time."

Her breath hitched, the weight of his words settling over her. She searched his face, finding nothing but honesty in his expression.

"I’d like that," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lando’s smile softened, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Good."

Without giving herself time to overthink, Y/N leaned in, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was tender and lingering. When they pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away from him.

"You should go in before I find another excuse to keep you here," he murmured, though his hand lingered on hers.

Y/N laughed softly, her heart impossibly full. "Goodnight, Lando."

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replied, watching as she stepped out of the car and made her way to her door.

He waited until she was safely inside before driving off, a small smile still playing on his lips. As he navigated the quiet streets back to his place, one thought kept circling in his mind: this was just the beginning of something far better than he ever could have imagined.

[fuyuu-chan]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Sylus x Reader

Warning: OOC (this was made pre-release of Sylus) not proofread

Fuyuu-chan: Some thoughts about how you and sylus react when someone else flirts to the other

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

~You getting jealous~

You know with just his looks alone he already has a lot of girls around him. Fonding and admiring him. Some girls just do it from a far but this time...one of them actually had the guts to go to sylus and try to flirt with him. You were actually walking in front of him excited to go to your next destination but you heard someone approached him so you looked back and thats when you saw the girl walked up to him.

If only she knew his personality. You do give a point for her braveness and boldness. But oh well, he's already taken. You shake your head, feeling sorry for the girl. But when you looked back at her and sylus. They way she still tries to flirt with your man even do he already dismiss it in a "polite way."

The way she twirls her hair and blinks at him, you're cringing but to be honest you feel a tug of jealosuy, cause you're the only who flirts with sylus.

Sylus who sense your stare, immediately dismiss and glared at the girl "cant you understand? I already said no" he says coldly as he immediately approached you and put his hand on your waist as he continue to lead the way making you look away from the girl and look at him.

"You know, i can sense your jealousy from there, your stare already screams it" he tease as he glance at you smirking.

You looked away from him. "no im not" you defend.

"Oh really? So you dont mind someone flirting with me?" He asks and you frowned. "I mind, im the only who can flirt with you" you said.

"So you're jealous, just admit it" sylus says as you roll your eyes playfully. "Okay fine..."

He smiles and looks at you. "Thank you...but seriously no need to be jealous you know i wouldnt let anyone replace you, nor would i entertain someone when i already have the most gorgeous person in the world" 

"Thats cringe" you comment even though your cheeks got tinted red to what he said. "But you like it" he adds. "Anyway, if that really upsets you, i could-" "no dont do that, dont do anything to them, im okay" you cut him off, knowing what he would say.

He merely chuckles at that.

(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

~Sylus getting jealous~

This man wouldnt get jealous easily and its also hard to make him jealous, he wouldnt get jealous to just some random guy who wants your number because they found you beautiful. I believe Sylus would just chuckle watching them shoot their shot only for them to get rejected by you.

Though....its a different story when he sense that a guy could be a threat. Thats when he will step in or take action. First he would glare at the person. Dude his aura alreadys screams danger. If that guy still wont budge then he better enjoy this day as this would be the last time he would see the light of day.

Sylus would go beside you taking your hand while staring at the guy infront. "Do you know this person (nickname)?" He ask as he glance at you. You shake your head as you look at him and back at the guy.

"Well then, i apologize but you're disturbing our time together, and as she says earlier, she's taken, so please step out of the way and dont push yourself when theres no space for you" he says as he glares at the guy and lead you away from that place. Sylus will make sure he would deal with that guy later tonight.

"Umm what was that?" You asked. "What?" He immeadiately responds.

"Are you angry?" You said a bit surprised, normally he had his composure in check but his tone while he said that to the guy was dangerous. It literally sent a shiver down your spine, so what more about that guy? Poor him.

"Im pissed. I mean you already said no, does he think he have a chance? Does he think he could replace me? Never." He says as he finally stop walking and face you. "He thinks he would have space when i already taken all of the space in your heart"

You chuckled at his jealousy. "Why are laughing at me?" He asks. "You're just sooo cutee" you coo making him pout. "Im not cute" "yes you are" "im not" "yes you are~" you said as you tiptoe and peck his cheek making him freeze and look at you a bit shock.

You chuckled once again before you start walking, leaving him a few steps behind. Sylus watch you hop on your steps before catching up on you.

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you

[w1w2]

Bored

Part 1 | Part 2 - But I'm Not the One To Keep | Part 3

Ningning x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 9,5k

Synopsis: Ningning, a charismatic heartbreaker known for her fleeting romances, finds herself unprepared for the depth of her feelings when she meets Y/N.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Ningning dorm room was dim, illuminated only by the faint, cold glow of laptop screen. The cursor blinked on a blank document like a silent taunt, its rhythmic flicker the only movement in the otherwise still room. Papers and notebooks were strewn across her desk in disarray, remnants of unfinished assignments she couldn’t muster the energy to complete. The guitar she usually turned to for solace leaned against the desk, its polished surface catching the faint light, but tonight, even it felt like a stranger to her.

The vibrant personality of her space, walls adorned with colorful posters of her favorite artists and shelves crammed with knick-knacks collected over the years seemed muted, almost mocking in its cheerfulness. The once comforting clutter felt stifling, closing in on her like a weight she couldn’t shake.

Ningning sat cross legged on her bed, her comforter twisted into a heap beside her. She leaned back against the headboard, her head tipped slightly upward as if searching for answers in the shadowed ceiling. Her hands dragged through her hair, fingers catching on tangles she hadn’t bothered to comb out, before falling limply to her lap.

The room was silent except for the occasional hum of a passing car outside her window, but inside her mind, it was deafening. The echo of her own voice reverberated with cruel clarity

"You knew what this was, Y/N. Don’t act like I promised you forever."

Her words played on an endless loop, hollow and sharp, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She could still see the exact moment they landed, as if watching a replay in slow motion. The way Y/N’s expression had faltered, those warm, expressive eyes dimming with hurt, the way her shoulders had dropped, as if burdened by a weight too heavy to carry.

Ningning groaned, the sound raw and broken as it slipped from her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, as though she could will the memory away, but it only grew sharper in the darkness. The image of Y/N lingered, unrelenting.

She saw her on the rooftop again, bathed in starlight, the words spilling out of her with hesitant courage

"I think... I’m starting to fall for you."

The vulnerability in Y/N’s voice had terrified Ningning. It had been too much, too real, too honest. Her instinct had been to retreat, to guard herself against the kind of raw emotion that threatened to unravel her carefully constructed facade. Vulnerability was dangerous. It asked too much and gave too little in return.

But Ningning couldn’t stop seeing Y/N’s face, that fragile hope that had been shattered. She let out a shaky breath, her chest tightening as if caught in a vice. Why had she said those things? Why had she hurt the one person who made her feel like she was worth more than the labels she carried?

Her gaze darted to her phone, lying face down on the nightstand. The urge to pick it up, to type out an apology, burned in her chest, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her fingers twitched, as if sensing the weight of the words she could never take back.

Instead, she reached for her guitar, but her hand faltered halfway. What good would it do? She already knew the melodies wouldn’t soothe her tonight. She felt hollow, as if every note she played would ring false.

She slumped forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her head cradled in her hands. The stillness of the room seemed to press against her, amplifying the ache in her chest. Her own thoughts suffocated her, circling back to Y/N over and over again. Her laughter, her steady presence, her way of making Ningning feel seen without asking for anything in return.

She had let that go.

Now, left alone in the quiet of her room, Ningning couldn’t outrun the truth. The silence amplified the very feelings she was trying to suppress, and the walls of her sanctuary felt less like a haven and more like a prison.

She whispered into the stillness, her voice trembling with the weight of her regret “What the hell have I done?”

Her mind betrayed her, pulling her back to that first, vivid memory of Y/N. It had been an ordinary afternoon, the kind Ningning had spent a hundred times before flitting through the campus café between classes, basking in the attention of passing smiles and casual greetings. But this time had been different.

Ningning had stopped short as her gaze landed on the girl sitting by the window, her head bowed over a notebook. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the glass, wrapping around her like a halo. Strands of her hair, slightly tousled, caught the golden light, and her brow furrowed in concentration gave her an air of quiet determination that Ningning found unexpectedly captivating.

Her breath hitched, her casual confidence faltering for the first time in years. There was a magnetism about Y/N, an unspoken aura that drew Ningning closer without effort. She found herself staring, caught between curiosity and an unfamiliar sense of longing. It wasn’t just Y/N’s appearance, though Ningning would later recall with a smile how beautiful she’d looked in that moment, but the way she seemed completely at ease, oblivious to the bustling café around her.

Ningning had hesitated for a fleeting second, something she never did, before making her way over and sliding into the seat across from Y/N. She flashed her most confident smile, the one that usually won over even the most reserved of hearts. “Mind if I join you?” she had asked, her voice light and playful.

Y/N had blinked up at her, startled, her pen pausing mid stroke. There was no wide-eyed awe, no immediate disarming smile in response. Instead, Y/N’s gaze was polite but wary, a quiet guardedness that intrigued Ningning. It was a challenge, one she couldn’t resist.

In the weeks that followed, Ningning had sought out opportunities to be near her. She told herself it was casual curiosity at first, something about Y/N’s calm demeanor and dry wit made her stand out. But the truth was something far more consuming. Ningning found herself watching for Y/N in the library, lingering outside engineering labs with excuses that felt increasingly flimsy.

The little things.

That’s what had undone her.

It was the way Y/N’s laugh bubbled up, completely unrestrained, when Ningning teased her about her “intimidating” thermos of coffee. It wasn’t a soft chuckle or a polite giggle, it was full-bodied, genuine, and infectious, the kind of laugh that made Ningning feel like she’d accomplished something extraordinary just by being the cause of it.

It was the way Y/N scrunched her nose when concentrating on her engineering projects, her lips pursing in a way that Ningning found inexplicably endearing. It made her want to sit closer, to nudge Y/N’s elbow and ask about whatever brilliant thing she was working on, just to see that focus shift to her for a moment.

And it was the way Y/N always seemed to have an extra cup of coffee ready when Ningning showed up unannounced, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as she handed it over. “Figured you’d need this,” she’d say, and Ningning’s heart would stutter at the casual care in her voice.

Ningning had never felt seen like that before, not in a way that mattered.

The rooftop.

Her heart clenched as she thought of that night, the memory vivid and bittersweet. The stars had been scattered across the sky like glittering promises, but all Ningning had been able to focus on was Y/N. She had looked radiant, her eyes reflecting the faint glow of the city lights below.

Ningning had joked about constellations, trying to lighten the moment, but the air between them had grown heavy with something unspoken. And then Y/N had turned to her, her voice trembling as she said, “I think... I’m starting to fall for you.”

The words had struck Ningning like a lightning bolt, leaving her breathless. For a moment, she had been frozen, caught between the overwhelming rush of emotions surging through her and the fear she could never quite outrun.

When she had leaned in to kiss Y/N, it hadn’t been an impulsive act, it had been deliberate, tender, and charged with all the feelings Ningning didn’t know how to put into words. The softness of Y/N’s lips, the warmth of her touch, the way she had leaned into Ningning like she belonged there, it was perfect in a way that made Ningning’s chest ache.

But perfection had its price, and Ningning knew all too well what it felt like to fall short. She had seen it in the faces of her past relationships, the disappointment that flickered in their eyes when they realized she couldn’t give them the love they wanted, the hurt when her walls refused to come down, the longing in their voices as they asked her why she couldn’t just stay.

She had tried, once or twice, to explain it, but the words always failed her. How could she describe the way love seemed to suffocate her the moment it became too real? How the very idea of being someone’s everything made her chest tighten and her instincts scream to run?

The cycle had become predictable. She would charm her way into someone’s life, bask in the glow of their affection, and then pull away the moment things grew serious. She had convinced herself it was better this way, better to leave before she could cause too much damage, better to slip away before they saw the cracks in her.

So when Y/N had opened her heart, when she had stood under the stars and said those words with such trembling honesty, Ningning had panicked. The vulnerability in Y/N’s voice had terrified her, made her feel exposed in a way she hadn’t thought possible.

Her instinct had taken over. She had pushed Y/N away, her words sharp and cutting, designed to hurt. To end things before they could begin. “You knew what this was, Y/N. Don’t act like I promised you forever.”

Now, in the stillness of her dorm room, those words echoed like a curse, each syllable clawing at her chest.

“Better to hurt her now,” she muttered bitterly, her voice cracking as she spoke the lie aloud, “than later.”

The words felt like ash on her tongue, bitter and hollow. No matter how many times she repeated them, they failed to convince her. She knew she had done it to protect herself, to shield her heart from the inevitability of failure. But instead of finding relief, she had only magnified the ache in her chest.

The memory of Y/N’s face as she walked away haunted her. That mix of hurt and disbelief, the way her voice had faltered as she tried to ask Ningning why. Y/N had deserved an explanation, deserved more than Ningning’s cowardice, but Ningning hadn’t known how to give it.

And now it was too late.

Ningning’s whispered question What the hell have I done? hung in the suffocating stillness of her dorm room, unanswered. She sat there for what felt like hours, her mind replaying the same memories, the same regrets, until her phone buzzed again.

Her gaze flickered to the screen, where Aeri’s name lit up with a simple message “Studio. Now. You can’t avoid this forever.”

Ningning sighed, dragging herself off the bed. Her limbs felt heavy, her chest tighter with every step she took to gather her things. Avoidance wasn’t an option tonight, and deep down, she knew she couldn’t keep running from her feelings. If she couldn’t face Y/N, maybe she could at least pour everything into a song.

Grabbing her guitar, she left the room, her mind clouded with doubts and melodies that refused to settle.

The studio was bathed in the soft, artificial glow of overhead lights, casting long shadows across the soundproofed walls. The padded panels seemed to absorb every sound, muting the outside world and leaving only the faint hum of equipment and the low crackle of static from the speakers. It was a space Ningning usually loved, a sanctuary where she could lose herself in the rhythm of creation.

But tonight, the familiar comfort was absent, replaced by a weight she couldn’t shake.

She sat hunched over her guitar, her posture unusually tense, her fingers idly plucking a melody that had been haunting her for days. The notes were soft, tentative, like they were afraid to fully form. The polished wood of the guitar felt smooth under her fingertips, but instead of grounding her, it only made her feel more adrift.

Aeri was at the control panel, her sharp focus cutting through the room’s lethargy. She twisted a knob with practiced ease, muttering to herself about reverb and equalization. The glow of the monitor reflected off her glasses, and every so often, she glanced at Ningning, her brow furrowing with quiet concern.

Jimin was sprawled on the couch in the corner, her phone screen illuminating her face as she scrolled lazily. Every few minutes, she would let out a soft snort or chuckle, likely at some meme or post that caught her attention. The casual ease with which she lounged felt at odds with the tension radiating from Ningning.

The room buzzed with life, yet Ningning felt miles away. The low hum of the equipment, the faint static breaking through the speakers, even the comforting presence of her friends none of it could drown out the storm in her head.

“Earth to Ning,” Aeri’s voice cut through the haze, jolting her out of her thoughts. Aeri swiveled her chair around to face her, arms crossed. “You gonna sing, or are we just gonna stare at each other all night?”

Ningning blinked, her fingers faltering over the strings. She forced a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just... give me a minute.”

Her voice sounded distant even to her, like it belonged to someone else. She gripped the neck of her guitar a little tighter, as if the familiar weight might anchor her in the present.

Aeri exchanged a glance with Jimin, who set her phone down with a small sigh. “You’ve been like this for days,” Jimin said, her tone casual but her gaze sharp. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Ningning replied too quickly, the word slipping out like a reflex. She cleared her throat and tried to soften her tone. “I’m just tired. Long week, you know?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. Instead, she leaned back, kicking her feet up on the arm of the couch. “Well, whatever it is, you’d better get it out before we start recording. No half-assed vocals, okay?”

Aeri nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah. We’re not rushing this, Ning. If you need more time—”

“No,” Ningning interrupted, her voice firm but strained. “I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Aeri hesitated for a moment before turning back to the control panel. Jimin gave a small shrug, picking up her phone again, but Ningning could feel their concern lingering in the air like an unspoken question.

She closed her eyes, gripping her guitar tighter as the melody echoed in her head. It was the only thing keeping her tethered, the one piece of her chaos that made any sense. But even as she prepared to sing, a part of her wondered if she was ready to face the emotions waiting on the other side of the music.

Her heart wasn’t in it, and they all knew it.

When she finally stepped into the recording booth, the familiar weight of the headphones pressed against her ears. The microphone stood before her, stark and unyielding, like a confessional waiting to unearth her deepest truths. She adjusted the mic stand slightly, stalling for time as the first chords of Bored began to play in her headphones.

Her fingers itched with the ghost of her guitar, but it wasn’t the melody she was struggling with, it was the lyrics. Every word felt like an admission, a raw fragment of herself laid bare for the world to see.

She closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her, and the memories followed, relentless and vivid.

It had been a warm afternoon, one of those rare, golden days where everything felt easy. She remembered sitting on the campus lawn with Y/N, the hum of distant conversations mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Y/N had been bent over her notebook, her pen moving in slow, thoughtful strokes.

Ningning had plucked a small flower from the grass, a delicate splash of color against the green, and leaned forward with a grin. “Hold still,” she had said, tucking it carefully behind Y/N’s ear. The sunlight had caught in Y/N’s hair, her startled laugh soft and musical, and for a moment, Ningning had felt something unfamiliar bloom in her chest.

That laugh, that moment, it was still there, woven into the fabric of her song.

Her voice trembled slightly as she sang the opening lines.

“I’m so pretty in your head, boy, yeah Picking flowers, put ’em right behind my ear...”

The lyrics twisted the truth, but that was easier than admitting the vulnerability of the original memory. She poured her longing into each word, shaping them into a melody that felt bittersweet, like a smile hiding an ache.

Her voice grew stronger as she reached the chorus.

“Takin’ up a good rush, don’t try to fight it Paradise on Venus in your eyes...”

Y/N’s eyes flashed in her mind, bright and filled with something Ningning had never let herself name. The rooftop kiss followed, as it always did. She could still feel the warmth of Y/N’s hand resting lightly on hers, the weight of her gaze as she had said, “I think... I’m starting to fall for you.”

The words had sent a jolt through Ningning’s heart, a mix of exhilaration and panic that she hadn’t been able to untangle. And then she had ruined it.

Her voice faltered slightly, the weight of her regret pressing down like a physical force.

“Ning,” Aeri’s voice came through the headphones, soft but firm. “You’re doing great. Let’s take it from the top.”

Ningning nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She started again, pushing through the chorus and into the second verse, her voice carrying all the raw emotion she couldn’t bring herself to say out loud.

“Turning your hellos into goodbyes, I always come in hardcore...”

The words felt like a knife turning in her chest. She had turned Y/N’s soft hellos, her open heart, into something brittle and broken. She had pushed Y/N away, convinced it was for the best, but now all she could do was relive the moments they’d shared, clinging to them like lifelines in the emptiness.

She poured it all into the song, every ounce of guilt, every flicker of longing, every unspoken apology. When the final note faded, the silence that followed was deafening.

Aeri’s voice broke through again, careful and measured. “That was... intense. You okay, Ning?”

Ningning pulled the headphones off and set them down with trembling hands. “Yeah,” she lied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m fine.”

But as she stepped out of the booth, her chest felt hollow, and the ache that had driven her to create this song remained as sharp as ever.

Hours later, the studio was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the equipment and the soft clatter of Aeri’s keyboard. The raw recording of Bored played through the speakers for what felt like the hundredth time, every note polished, every vocal layer perfected.

Ningning sat slumped in a chair, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against her arm, the only outward sign of the storm brewing inside her. She stared at the monitor as if it held some answer she hadn’t yet found.

“Okay,” Aeri said, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. “That’s it. It’s done.”

Jimin, who had been dozing on the couch, cracked an eye open and gave a lazy thumbs up. “Sounds killer. People are gonna eat this up.”

Ningning nodded faintly, but the weight in her chest didn’t lift. The song was done, polished to perfection, yet it didn’t feel like a triumph. If anything, it felt like a confession she wasn’t ready for the world to hear.

Aeri turned to her, her voice softer now. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Ningning replied automatically, though her voice wavered. She cleared her throat and forced a weak smile. “Just tired.”

Aeri didn’t press further, but the look she gave Ningning lingered, a mix of concern and something unreadable.

They listened to the track one last time, the haunting melody filling the studio. Ningning felt every word as if she were singing them again, the emotions sharper than before. When the final note faded, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

“It’s good,” she said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.

“It’s better than good,” Jimin said, sitting up and stretching. “This is the kind of song people are gonna remember.”

But as Ningning packed up her guitar and prepared to leave, all she could think was how much she wished she didn’t have to remember.

The song dropped three days later, and the reaction was immediate.

By the time Ningning woke up that morning, her phone was already buzzing with notifications. Social media was flooded with posts about Bored, clips of the song, glowing reviews, and endless comments tagging her name.

“@_imnotningning just gave us the ultimate heartbreaker anthem.” “Why does Bored sound so good and so savage at the same time?” “This song... wow. Ningning really said, ‘I’ll break your heart and make it a hit.’”

Jimin sent a screenshot of the streaming numbers to their group chat with a series of fire emojis “We’re blowing up. Told you.”

Ningning sat on the edge of her bed, scrolling through the messages and comments, her expression unreadable. Normally, she would have basked in the attention, maybe even posted a playful selfie with a “thank you” caption. But today, the praise felt hollow.

Her classmates were talking about the song too. Everywhere she went, cafés, hallways, even the library, someone was playing it. The haunting melody seemed to follow her, the lyrics spilling from speakers and headphones like they were taunting her.

She walked past a group of students sitting on the quad, their conversation carrying over to her ears.

“Did you hear Bored yet? It’s so good. Ningning really nailed the whole ‘heartbreaker’ vibe.” “Yeah, but like... do you think it’s just a song, or is she actually like that?”

She quickened her pace, her chest tightening.

Later that day, she sat in a corner of the café, her hood pulled low over her face. She watched from the shadows as a group of students queued up at the counter, one of them humming the chorus under their breath.

“Takin’ up a good rush, don’t try to fight it...”

Her stomach churned. They were celebrating the song, turning it into something bigger than it was ever meant to be. They didn’t know it wasn’t just a catchy tune, it was her. Her regret, her longing, her everything, laid bare for the world to dissect.

Jimin sent another text “People are calling this your best work yet. You okay?”

Ningning stared at the message for a long moment before typing a reply “Yeah. Just a lot to process.”

She didn’t hit send. Instead, she set the phone down and stared out the window, watching the world move on without her.

The song was a success. She should have been happy. But all she felt was the hollow ache that had been with her since the night she’d walked away from Y/N.

The praise was loud, but the silence in her heart was louder.

It was late when Ningning found herself wandering the campus, the cool night air brushing against her skin. The paths were quiet, lined with the faint glow of streetlights, their soft hum filling the silence. She had hoped the walk would clear her head, but instead, it only made the ache in her chest sharper.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a notification about Bored. It was another tag, another comment praising her, another reminder of the song’s success. She didn’t even bother looking at it.

Her steps slowed as she approached the bench near the quad, tucked beneath an old oak tree. The sight of it stopped her cold. She hadn’t intended to come here, but her feet had carried her anyway, as if drawn by memory.

She could still picture Y/N sitting there, her face illuminated by the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches. Ningning had spent countless afternoons on that bench with her, sharing jokes, snacks, and moments of quiet that had felt like their own little world.

But now the bench was empty, and the silence around it felt deafening.

Ningning sank down onto the worn wood, the weight of her regret pressing her shoulders forward. She stared at the ground, her thoughts spinning in endless circles.

This is what you wanted, she told herself. You pushed her away. You said it was better this way.

But the words felt hollow, even in her mind. Every memory of Y/N burned brighter against the darkness of her guilt. She thought of Y/N’s laughter, the way it had filled the spaces between them, making everything seem lighter. She thought of the way Y/N had looked at her, her gaze steady and full of quiet affection.

And she thought of that night on the rooftop, the way Y/N’s voice had trembled as she confessed, “I think... I’m starting to fall for you.”

Ningning’s chest tightened, her hands curling into fists on her lap. She had been terrified in that moment, so scared of falling short that she had lashed out. She had thought she was protecting them both by ending it, but now it felt like she had only destroyed the best thing she’d ever had.

The quad was still, but her mind was anything but. Every line of Bored replayed in her head, the lyrics that had once felt like armor now cutting her like glass.

“Love ’til the end of the road, then I tend to get bored...”

The words had been true when she wrote them. At least, she had believed they were true. But now, sitting here alone, she realized how wrong she’d been. She wasn’t bored. She wasn’t indifferent. She was miserable.

Her hand drifted to her pocket, pulling out her phone. Her thumb hovered over Y/N’s name in her contacts. The urge to call, to apologize, to beg for another chance burned in her chest.

But what could she even say? I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry for not seeing what I had until it was too late.

She opened her messages anyway, scrolling aimlessly through old chats. Y/N’s name sat near the top of her contacts, untouched since the day she had ended things. There was no new message waiting, no unread text to give her a sliver of hope.

She didn’t need to open their conversation to remember how it ended. She had ended it in person, face to face.

She remembered Y/N standing in front of her on the courtyard bench where they’d often met between classes, her arms crossed, her expression guarded yet hopeful. The question had come softly, without accusation:

“Ning, is something wrong? You’ve been... distant.”

Ningning had tried to shrug it off, playing the part of someone too preoccupied to care. “I’ve just been busy,” she’d said, her voice clipped.

But Y/N hadn’t let it go. “You’re canceling plans, avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?”

The crack in Y/N’s voice had nearly undone her, but Ningning had held firm. She had to.

“It’s not about you,” Ningning had replied after a long pause, avoiding Y/N’s gaze. “I just... I don’t think I can give you what you want.”

Y/N’s face had fallen, confusion and hurt flashing across her features. “What does that mean?”

Ningning had stood abruptly, running a hand through her hair as though she could smooth out the knots tightening in her chest. “It means you’re getting too attached,” she’d snapped, her voice rising defensively. “I didn’t sign up for this, Y/N. I’m not looking for something serious.”

Even now, sitting alone in the cold glow of the campus streetlights, she could still see the look on Y/N’s face as her words landed—the shock, the disbelief, and the crushing realization that followed.

Y/N had stood there, her shoulders stiff and her chin trembling, holding back tears. “You could have told me that from the start,” she’d said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Instead of letting me believe this meant something.”

Ningning had meant to respond, maybe even apologize, but the words had refused to come. All she could manage was a hollow echo of the line she had clung to like a shield: “You knew what this was, Y/N. Don’t act like I promised you forever.”

The memory struck Ningning like a blow, and she doubled over on the bench, her head in her hands.

Now, sitting alone on the bench, Ningning could still see the scene as clearly as if it were happening all over again. She could still feel the lump in her throat, the gnawing ache in her chest as she had watched Y/N leave, knowing she had just let go of something irreplaceable.

Her phone slipped from her hands, landing softly on the bench beside her. She pressed her palms to her face, her breathing shaky as tears threatened to spill.

“I miss you,” she whispered, the words breaking like a confession in the quiet night. “God, I miss you so much.”

The silence around her offered no comfort, only amplifying the emptiness she felt. She had tried to move on, tried to channel her feelings into the song, but it hadn’t worked.

The song was everywhere, on playlists, in cafés, on the lips of people she passed, but none of it mattered. Its success felt meaningless without Y/N.

The worst part was knowing she had done this to herself. She had pushed Y/N away, convinced it was the right thing to do, but now she wasn’t sure she even knew how to fix it.

As the first tear slipped down her cheek, Ningning let herself cry. For the first time since their fight, she didn’t try to push the feelings away. She let herself feel the weight of it, the unbearable ache of missing someone who had once felt like home.

The world around her blurred, the quiet hum of the campus fading as her emotions overwhelmed her. She didn’t know how long she sat there, her tears soaking into her sleeves, but for the first time in weeks, she stopped pretending she was okay.

The song hadn’t been meant for the world, it had been meant for herself. She had written it thinking that putting her feelings into words, into melodies, would help her let go of them. She had hoped it would be an exorcism, a way to purge the ache in her chest and move on.

But now, as she sat alone on that bench, she saw how wrong she had been. The song hadn’t taken the feelings away. It had only magnified them. Every lyric, every melody, was her running from the truth.

And she wondered if Y/N, wherever she was, had heard it, and if she’d felt even a fraction of the emotions Ningning had tried to hide.

The song’s lyrics again played in her mind as she rose from the bench, the melody haunting her steps as she made her way back toward the dorms. Her feet felt heavy, each step a reminder of the ache in her chest that refused to fade.

She barely slept that night, her thoughts a relentless spiral of memories and regrets. By the time her alarm blared the next morning, Ningning felt like she’d been awake for hours, her body sluggish as she forced herself to get ready for the day.

Ningning burst through the doors of the lecture hall, her bag half zipped and her papers spilling onto the floor. A few heads turned her way, some with mild annoyance, as she scrambled to gather her belongings.

“Sorry,” she mumbled under her breath, avoiding eye contact as she hurried to an empty seat in the back. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but her mind was already elsewhere.

She pulled out a notebook and pen, but her hand stilled after the first few lines of the professor’s lecture. The words on the board blurred, her thoughts drifting to Y/N. She imagined the way Y/N used to say her name, soft and teasing, her voice carrying a warmth that Ningning hadn’t appreciated enough at the time.

Her pen began to move across the page, not writing notes but doodling aimless shapes in the margins. Flowers, stars, anything to distract herself. But even then, her mind betrayed her, filling the empty space with memories of Y/N’s smile, the way it lit up her whole face when she laughed.

A sharp cough snapped Ningning back to the present. She glanced up to find the professor’s eyes briefly meeting hers before moving on. Heat flushed her face again, and she quickly closed her notebook, pretending to follow along.

The class ended, and Ningning shoved her things into her bag, barely paying attention as she bumped into a few classmates on her way out. The hallway buzzed with chatter, the usual post-lecture hum of voices, but Ningning moved through it like a ghost, her mind clouded with thoughts she couldn’t shake.

She stepped into the quad, hoping for a moment of calm in the open air. The sun was warm on her skin, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees lining the path. For a brief second, she allowed herself to breathe.

And then she saw her.

Y/N sat under the large oak tree near the center of the quad, her back resting against the trunk. Chaewon and Yunjin flanked her, laughing at something Yunjin had just said. Y/N was laughing too, her head tilted back, the sound light and infectious.

Ningning froze mid step, her heart plummeting into her stomach. It felt like the air had been knocked out of her lungs.

She hadn’t seen Y/N in weeks, not up close like this. The sight of her, her radiant smile, the way her hair caught the sunlight, was almost too much to bear. Y/N looked... happy. And it wasn’t Ningning who had put that smile on her face.

Her first instinct was to approach her, to cross the quad and find a way to talk. But before she could take a step, her doubts crept in. What would she even say? I miss you? I’m sorry? I didn’t mean any of it?

She couldn’t do it.

Before Y/N could notice her, Ningning ducked behind the nearest tree, pressing her back against the rough bark. She closed her eyes, willing her racing heart to slow down. The urge to look again was unbearable, but she forced herself to stay hidden.

The sound of Y/N’s laughter drifted to her, faint but unmistakable. Ningning peeked around the tree, just for a moment, and her chest tightened at the sight. Y/N was leaning forward slightly, her hand brushing against Chaewon’s as she spoke, her expression animated.

Jealousy twisted in Ningning’s gut, sharp and unforgiving. She hated herself for feeling it, knowing she had no right. Y/N had every reason to move on, to surround herself with people who wouldn’t push her away.

But the thought of Y/N finding happiness without her was unbearable.

Ningning bit her lip, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She stayed hidden until Y/N and her friends gathered their things and walked away, their laughter fading into the distance. Only then did Ningning step out from behind the tree, her legs trembling as she continued toward her next class.

Later, Ningning sat at a corner table in the café, her tray untouched in front of her. The low hum of conversations filled the air, punctuated by the clinking of mugs and the hiss of the espresso machine. Aeri and Minjeong sat across from her, animatedly discussing their latest group project, but their words barely registered.

Ningning stared down at her plate, her fork idly pushing a piece of lettuce back and forth. Her stomach felt hollow, but the thought of eating made her nauseous.

“Ning,” Minjeong said, her tone tinged with concern. “Are you even listening?”

Ningning blinked, looking up as if startled out of a dream. “What?”

Minjeong exchanged a glance with Aeri before leaning forward. “I asked if you’re okay. You’ve been... off lately.”

“I’m fine,” Ningning said quickly, her voice tight. She picked up her fork and stabbed at her salad, hoping it would make her look convincing. “Just tired, that’s all.”

Minjeong frowned, her skepticism clear. “You’ve been tired for weeks. Is something going on?”

Aeri nudged Minjeong with her elbow, cutting her off. “Let it go. She’ll talk when she’s ready.”

Ningning felt a pang of guilt as Minjeong sat back, muttering under her breath. She knew her friends were trying to help, but the thought of explaining everything, the fight, the regret, the way she couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N, was unbearable.

“I’m sorry,” Ningning mumbled, her eyes fixed on her tray. “I’m just... distracted. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Aeri tilted her head, studying Ningning with a sharpness that made her squirm. “You sure that’s all it is?”

Ningning forced a smile, though it felt like her face might crack under the strain. “Yeah. Promise.”

Aeri didn’t look convinced, but she let it go, turning the conversation back to Minjeong. Ningning nodded along absently as they talked, her gaze drifting to the phone sitting on the edge of the table.

Y/N’s contact sat pinned at the top of her messages now. Ningning’s chest tightened as she stared at it, her fingers itching to pick it up, to type something, anything.

But what could she say that would make a difference?

She pulled her hand back, letting the phone sit untouched. The noise of the café pressed in around her, but Ningning felt utterly alone.

Later Ningning left feeling more exhausted than ever, the weight of her friends’ unspoken concerns lingering in the pit of her stomach. She had promised herself that she’d keep it together, but lately, even the smallest interactions felt like a struggle.

The next few days passed in a haze. Her routines blurred together, classes she barely paid attention to, meals she didn’t taste, music sessions that felt hollow. The song’s success continued to ripple through campus, but Ningning barely acknowledged it. The praise that had once thrilled her now felt meaningless.

Her friends noticed. Of course, they noticed.

So when Aeri texted her to meet up for coffee with Minjeong and Jimin, Ningning felt a flicker of apprehension. She knew they would ask questions. They always did. And she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep dodging them.

By the time she reached the agreed place, she was running late, her mind already spinning excuses.

The café was quiet, the midday rush long gone. The faint hum of soft jazz played over the speakers, mingling with the rhythmic clink of cups and the occasional muted laugh from a nearby table. The warm scent of coffee and pastries filled the air, but for Ningning, the atmosphere felt anything but comforting.

Aeri, Minjeong, and Jimin sat at a corner table by the window, their drinks half-finished, their conversation subdued. They weren’t laughing, weren’t chatting like they usually did. Instead, their focus was fixed on the door, their expressions tight with concern.

When Ningning finally walked in, their gazes snapped toward her in unison. She hesitated in the doorway, her heart sinking as she caught the looks they exchanged. This wasn’t going to be a casual hangout; she could feel it already.

Sliding into the seat across from them, Ningning dropped her bag onto the floor with a heavy thud. “Sorry,” she muttered, keeping her eyes on the table. “Lost track of time.”

Aeri leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studied Ningning with a raised eyebrow. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Ningning’s hand shot up to her face instinctively, as if she could smooth away the evidence of her exhaustion. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, forcing a weak smile. “Just a lot on my plate right now.”

“Yeah, we can tell,” Jimin said dryly, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. “Look, we’ve been giving you space because we figured you’d come to us when you were ready, but you’re not getting better. You’re getting worse.”

Minjeong nodded, her voice softer but no less insistent. “We’re worried about you, Ning. You’ve been... off for weeks now.”

Ningning let out a short, strained laugh, her fingers toying with the edge of her sleeve. “What, do I need an intervention now? Relax, I’m fine. Just tired.”

The words felt hollow even as she said them, and judging by the silence that followed, they hadn’t convinced anyone.

Aeri leaned forward, her expression unusually serious. Her voice was quiet, but it cut through the tension like a blade. “You’re not fine, and we’re done pretending you are. Talk to us.”

Ningning shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her hands gripping the edge of the table. She could feel their eyes on her, the weight of their concern pressing down like a lead blanket.

“It’s nothing,” she said weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just... stuff. I’ll figure it out.”

Minjeong frowned, leaning closer. “Does this have anything to do with Y/N?”

The question hit like a lightning strike. Ningning froze, her breath catching in her throat. She didn’t answer right away, but her reaction was enough.

Jimin leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed and her tone pointed. “You haven’t been the same since you broke things off with her. Have you even tried reaching out?”

Ningning’s fingers curled into fists in her lap, her jaw tightening. “It’s better this way,” she muttered, avoiding their gazes.

“Better for who?” Aeri asked, her tone sharp but not unkind.

“For her,” Ningning snapped, her voice cracking slightly. She swallowed hard, lowering her gaze. “I’m doing what’s best for her. She deserves better than me.”

Minjeong’s voice softened, her eyes searching Ningning’s face. “Is that really how you feel? Or is that just what you’re telling yourself?”

The question hung in the air, and Ningning struggled to find a response. She could feel the walls she had built around herself beginning to crumble under the weight of their words.

Jimin’s gaze was steady, her tone matter of fact as she broke the silence. “You’re miserable, Ning. Don’t act like you’re not.”

“I’m fine,” Ningning shot back, her voice rising slightly.

“No, you’re not,” Aeri said firmly, leaning forward. “You’re barely holding it together, and it’s not just affecting you. It’s affecting all of us. We’re worried about you, Ning. Whatever you’re carrying, it’s too much for you to handle alone.”

Ningning’s fingers curled around the edge of the table, her knuckles white. “It’s not your problem,” she muttered, her voice sharp and defensive.

“It is when we care about you,” Minjeong said softly. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Jimin tilted her head, her voice cutting through Ningning’s resistance. “You think pushing everyone away is helping? You think hiding from how you feel is going to make it go away?”

“It’s not that simple!” Ningning snapped, her voice trembling. “You don’t understand.”

“Then make us understand,” Aeri said, her voice softer now but still resolute. “We’re here, Ning. Stop running and talk to us.”

Ningning’s breath hitched, her chest tightening as the weight of their concern pressed down on her. She looked at each of them in turn, their faces filled with quiet determination, and for the first time, she felt the walls she had built start to give way.

Her hands trembled as she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I hurt her.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with regret. Ningning blinked rapidly, her vision blurring as tears welled up in her eyes. “I hurt her, and I can’t take it back. I pushed her away because I thought it was the right thing to do, but... but now, all I can think about is how much I messed up.”

Minjeong reached across the table, her hand brushing lightly against Ningning’s arm. “You made a mistake,” she said gently. “That doesn’t mean it’s the end.”

Ningning shook her head, her voice breaking. “You don’t get it. I’m the one who ruined everything. She trusted me, and I... I threw it all away because I was scared. Scared of screwing it up, scared of letting her get too close.”

Jimin leaned back, her voice softer now but still firm. “So instead of letting her in, you broke it off? That’s not protecting her, Ning. That’s protecting yourself.”

The words cut deep, and Ningning’s defenses crumbled completely. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly swiped it away, but the floodgates had opened.

“She’s better off without me,” Ningning whispered, her voice trembling. “I can’t give her what she needs. I’ll just mess it up again, and I can’t... I can’t put her through that.”

Aeri spoke then, her tone steady but kind. “You’re not giving her a choice, Ning. You decided for her, and now you’re both hurting because of it.”

Ningning’s shoulders shook as she buried her face in her hands, her tears coming freely now. She felt Aeri’s hand on her back, a steady presence that didn’t demand anything from her.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Minjeong said gently. “But it’s not okay to let fear control you. You can’t keep running from this, Ning.”

Jimin nodded, her voice softer than before. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now. But you owe it to yourself, and to her to at least try.”

Ningning sniffled, lifting her head to look at her friends through tear-filled eyes. Their expressions were filled with quiet support, no judgment, just an unwavering belief that she could face this.

The weight of her conversation with Aeri, Jimin, and Minjeong lingered in Ningning’s chest as she walked across campus the next morning. The air was brisk, carrying the scent of damp earth from a recent rain, but it did little to clear her thoughts.

Her friends had been right, she couldn’t keep running. But knowing that and acting on it were two different things. She wasn’t ready to face Y/N yet. Every time she thought about reaching out, the fear of rejection, the fear of making things worse, held her back.

She sighed, pulling her bag tighter over her shoulder as she approached her next class. The last thing she needed was to spiral in front of her classmates.

But as she rounded the corner to the lecture hall, she froze. Yunjin and Chaewon were waiting by the door, their arms crossed and their expressions unreadable.

Ningning’s heart sank.

“Uh, hey,” she said cautiously, offering a weak smile.

Yunjin raised an eyebrow, her tone sharp. “We need to talk.”

Ningning hesitated, her gaze darting to the open classroom door like it was a lifeline. Her heart pounded as if it could somehow drown out the growing tension in the air. She felt cornered, exposed, and the sharp looks Yunjin and Chaewon were giving her only made it worse.

Before she could make a move, Yunjin stepped forward, her stance unyielding.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Yunjin said firmly. Her voice was steady, but there was no mistaking the edge in her tone.

Ningning’s stomach churned as the words sank in. Her fingers fumbled with the strap of her bag, and she looked to Chaewon, silently hoping for an out.

Chaewon placed a calming hand on Yunjin’s shoulder, her expression softer but no less resolute. “We’re not here to fight,” she said, her voice measured. “We just want answers.”

Ningning sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging under the weight of the moment. “Answers to what?” she asked, though the dread creeping into her chest told her she already knew.

“To why you hurt Y/N,” Yunjin said bluntly, her gaze cutting through Ningning’s defenses. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put her through?”

Ningning flinched, the accusation landing like a physical blow. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. The memory of Y/N’s hurt expression flashed in her mind, twisting her stomach into knots.

“I... I didn’t mean to hurt her,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

“But you did,” Chaewon interjected, her voice steady but heavy with meaning. “She’s been trying to move on, but it’s obvious she’s still hurting. And honestly? So are you.”

Ningning felt the heat rising in her cheeks, a mix of shame and defensiveness bubbling up inside her. Her grip on her bag tightened, her knuckles white.

“I’m fine,” she said tersely, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

“No, you’re not,” Yunjin snapped, her words cutting through Ningning’s facade. “We’ve seen how you’ve been acting, like a mess, avoiding everyone, barely holding it together.” She leaned in slightly, her tone biting but not unkind. “If you’re fine, then I’m a pop star.”

The last comment hung in the air, both sharp and oddly humorous, but Ningning couldn’t bring herself to respond. Her throat felt tight, and her chest ached with the weight of her emotions. She tried to hold her ground, but the truth was written all over her face, and Yunjin and Chaewon weren’t letting her run from it.

Ningning’s temper flared, the heat of frustration rising to her face. Her voice came out sharper than she intended. “I don’t see how this is any of your business.”

Her hands gripped the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white. The tension coiling in her chest felt unbearable, and lashing out was the only release she could find.

Yunjin didn’t back down. Instead, she stepped closer, her eyes narrowing with a mix of anger and determination. “It’s my business because Y/N is my friend,” she said, her voice unwavering. “She’s been there for me when I needed her, and I’m not going to stand by and watch her suffer because you can’t get your act together.”

The words struck a nerve, and Ningning’s jaw clenched as she fought to maintain her composure. She could feel the pressure building behind her eyes, but she refused to let it show.

Chaewon sighed, stepping slightly between them, her voice calm but firm. “We’re not here to attack you, Ningning,” she said, her eyes searching Ningning’s face. “But you can’t keep pretending this didn’t happen. You need to face it.”

Ningning shook her head, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “I don’t owe you anything,” she muttered, her fists curling at her sides.

“You don’t owe us anything,” Yunjin said, her tone softening slightly but losing none of its weight. “But you owe it to Y/N, and to yourself, to stop running and be honest about how you feel.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

Ningning’s throat tightened, her defenses wavering as the truth pressed against her like a physical weight. Her voice cracked as she shot back, “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t feel like crap every single day for what I did?”

Chaewon placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, her voice soothing. “Then why not do something about it? Running away isn’t making it better, it’s only making it worse.”

“I’m scared, okay?” Ningning’s voice broke completely, and she felt the first sting of tears in her eyes. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t even know if I can.”

Yunjin’s gaze softened, and she let out a sigh, her arms uncrossing. “Ning, no one’s saying it’ll be easy. But if you care about her even half as much as we think you do, then you owe it to her, and to yourself to try.”

Chaewon nodded, her tone kind but firm. “We’re not against you, Ningning. We’re trying to help you.”

Ningning blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. The vulnerability she had been running from for so long felt like it was finally catching up to her, and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to keep holding it off.

Ningning’s facade cracked at the words, her composure slipping as the emotions she had been suppressing clawed their way to the surface. Her chest felt tight, her breathing uneven. She tried to hold it together, but the pressure was too much.

“You think it’s that easy?” she snapped, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and despair. Her hands balled into fists at her sides as she glared at Yunjin, though her expression was more pleading than hostile. “You think I don’t want to fix this? I don’t even know where to start!”

Her words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered.

Yunjin’s sharp expression softened slightly, though her stance remained firm. She took a step back, giving Ningning space, but her voice carried the same unwavering conviction. “You start by being honest,” she said simply. “With her, and with yourself.”

The directness of the statement left Ningning momentarily speechless. She looked down, her breathing shaky as her thoughts swirled chaotically.

Chaewon stepped closer, her voice gentle but resolute. “You care about her, don’t you?”

Ningning opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat, the weight of them too much to bear. Her lips parted in a silent attempt to speak, but no sound came. Instead, her eyes burned with unshed tears as she looked away, her gaze fixed on the ground.

The lump in her throat grew tighter, and the silence between them stretched until Yunjin broke it.

“You love her, don’t you?” Yunjin’s voice was softer now, almost tender, but the question hit like a punch to the gut.

The weight of the truth she had been avoiding pressed down on Ningning, and her shoulders sagged under its heaviness. She stumbled back, sinking onto the nearest bench as her defenses crumbled entirely.

Her hands trembled as they came up to cover her face, and her voice was thick with emotion when she finally spoke. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, her words barely audible. “I’m scared. What if I mess it up again? What if she’s better off without me?”

Her confession lingered in the air, raw and vulnerable, and for a moment, the only sound was her quiet, uneven breathing.

Chaewon crouched down in front of her, resting a comforting hand on Ningning’s knee. Her voice was steady and reassuring, each word deliberate. “You won’t know unless you try. And I think she deserves to hear the truth, from you, not from anyone else.”

Ningning lowered her hands slightly, her tear-streaked face finally visible. She blinked at Chaewon, her lips trembling as she tried to absorb the words.

“What if it’s too late?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Yunjin stepped forward, her tone softer but still firm. “Then at least you’ll know you tried. But you can’t keep running from this, Ning. You owe it to both of you to face it, no matter how scary it feels.”

Ningning’s breathing slowed as the weight of their words settled over her. The fear that had been consuming her didn’t vanish, but for the first time, she felt a faint glimmer of possibility. Of hope.

Yunjin sighed, leaning back slightly. Her expression softened, though her tone remained firm. “Look, you don’t have to figure it all out right now,” she said, her voice measured. “But you need to talk to her. Be honest about how you feel, even if it’s messy.”

Ningning swallowed hard, the weight of the words sinking into her chest. Be honest. The very thought made her stomach churn. Honesty meant vulnerability, and vulnerability meant opening herself up to the possibility of rejection. Or worse, hurting Y/N again.

Chaewon nodded, stepping closer with a look of quiet determination. “We’ll help you,” she said gently. “We can set up a time for you to talk to her, somewhere private, where you won’t feel pressured. Somewhere you can just... be real with her.”

Ningning’s heart pounded as the thought took root. Her mind raced with the possibilities, each one more nerve-wracking than the last. What would she even say? How could she begin to fix the damage she’d caused?

But as terrifying as the thought of facing Y/N was, the alternative, living with the regret of never trying, was worse. The ache in her chest, the gnawing sense of emptiness that had consumed her since the day she pushed Y/N away, was unbearable.

Her gaze flickered between Yunjin and Chaewon, both of them watching her with expectant yet supportive eyes. Her fingers twisted nervously in her lap as she finally nodded.

“Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do it.”

The words felt fragile, as if they might shatter under the weight of her doubt, but as they hung in the air, a small wave of relief washed over her.

Yunjin’s expression softened into a small smile, a mix of approval and reassurance. “Good. Because it’s about time,” she said, her tone lighter now but still carrying the weight of their earlier conversation.

Chaewon crouched down slightly, meeting Ningning’s gaze as she gently patted her shoulder. “You’re not alone in this,” she said, her voice steady and full of warmth. “We’ll be here every step of the way.”

The simple gesture, Chaewon’s hand on her shoulder, the sincerity in her voice, was enough to crack through Ningning’s lingering doubt. For the first time in weeks, she felt a flicker of something she hadn’t dared to hope for: a glimmer of hope.

It wasn’t going to be easy. She knew that. But as she looked at Yunjin and Chaewon, their expressions filled with quiet confidence in her, she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to make things right.

The knot in her chest loosened slightly, and she let out a shaky breath. “Thank you,” she murmured, the words carrying a weight of gratitude she couldn’t fully express.

Chaewon smiled softly, standing back up and gesturing toward the hallway. “You’ve got this, Ningning. And when you’re ready, we’ll help you figure out the next step.”

Yunjin gave a playful nudge to Ningning’s shoulder as they turned to leave. “And don’t overthink it too much,” she said, her tone teasing but still supportive. “You’ve already made it this far. The hard part’s just beginning, but you’re tougher than you think.”

Ningning couldn’t bring herself to smile fully, but the faint curve of her lips was enough. As she watched her friends walk ahead, she realized that while the path ahead was uncertain, she wasn’t walking it alone.

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Babydaddy!Chris x Sweetheart!Reader - Indecisive

Your grip firm on the handle of your babydaddy’s passenger door, you take a deep breath before pulling it open, the thick scent of black ice mixed with a hint of weed wafts over you, nearly making you lightheaded. Your face crunching in disgust, “have you been smoking?” you ask him before dipping down into the passenger. Chris sits reclined back in his seat, one hand on the steering wheel, and his elbow propped up on the center console, “what – no!” he spits out defensively.

You knew he was lying; he was quick the lie. You decided to bite your tongue for the sake of what you were about to tell him. The next topic of conversation would ruin his night, much like the topic of him texting another girl behind your back that played like a broken record in your head, ruining every night and day for you since you found out. You crack the car window a bit, “I don't care,” muttering before turning to Chris with slumped shoulders, “just make sure you don’t do it around Bear when he gets here.”

A gummy smile makes its way across his face, “you took my name suggestion,” he coos, reaching a hand out to smooth over your belly, your son making sure to kick as soon as he feels Chris’ hand. As much as you missed the comfortability of being around Chris, you weren’t ready to go back home with him, seeing him every day would just cause you more heartache. Seeing his car parked outside of your best friend's house everyday like clockwork already hurt enough. Your pregnancy hormones were raging, and you were more emotional than you had ever been. 

You blink away tears, giving him a toothless smile, “I really like it. It’s fitting,” you tell me, looking down at his hand still placed on your belly. It was bittersweet, Bear wasn’t even here, and he made it known he missed Chris almost more than you did. Chris lets out a chuckle, feeling the light kicks against his hand, “yeah?” he questions, looking up at you, those icy blue eyes burning deep holes into your figure, “can’t wait ‘til you're back home.” Your smile fades at his words, telling all that was needed to be told. Chris’ face crunches in confusion which ultimately makes you continue, “that’s uhrm — that’s kinda why I wanted to talk to you,” you chime in, looking away from his intense gaze. His eyes alone would make you crack under pressure any second, giving into whatever his wishes were, which is why you stayed as far away as you could. Chris was a dangerous type of man.

He clears his throat, “what is it?” looking back down at your baby bump like he’s reluctant to pull away. He missed the little butterfly kicks from his son almost as much as he missed seeing you waddle around the house with a jar of jiffy peanut butter in one hand and a spoon in the other. He sported bloodshot eyes, you couldn't tell if it was due to lack of sleep or if he was smoking too much weed, the dark bags underneath of them didn’t do him any justice either. Pressing your lips together, you didn’t want to tell him, but you knew it had to be done, “I think I might stay here for a little while longer — I’m not sure how much longer,” your voice comes out small and brittle, like it could break at any moment.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, emotion lies thick in his voice, “wha – what do you mean?” his Boston accent peeking thru subtly. Tears fill his eyes to the brim, and you watch as he blinks them back, scrunching his face before letting a stray tear stain his cheek. He quickly wipes it, looking out the front windshield like he's trying his hardest to find his next words. Staying strong was so hard when Chris was on the verge of an emotional breakdown in front of your very eyes. You had a soft spot for him, and you feared it wasn't going away anytime soon. It took all of you to not crawl into his lap, run your fingers thru his brown locks, and pepper his face with kisses while he cried into your chest. He was a ray of sunshine; seeing him sad was heartbreaking. You couldn’t help but wonder if he really felt as bad as you did or was it all an act to get you to come back home to him. Either way, his emotional state left you feeling gutted – just like the revelation of him cheating made you feel. 

Chris sniffles, making you pick your head up to look at him, “you don’t want to be with me anymore?” The question that had been running loops thru your mind the last three weeks. Did you want to be with Chris? Of course you did. That wasn’t up for debate. The real question was - could you go back to normal with Chris, raising a newborn without dwelling on the fact that he cheated on you? You couldn’t say for sure.

“I didn’t say that,” you croak out, tangling a hand in your hair. You let out a breathy sigh as your hand drops to your bump, “I just need more time, m’sorry, Chris.” Bear was going backflips at the sound of his dad's voice, or maybe it was your emotions doing the work. A light scoff, filled with hurt leaves his lips, “I’ve been giving you time. It’s been weeks,” he says, tugging another hand thru his hair as he looks at you, biting on his bottom lip to keep it from quivering. 

His sad puppy dog eyes are too heart wrenching for you to handle, so you look away. “I know that, but you’ve been parked out here every day,” you tell him, letting out another sigh. He’d never understand the turmoil and pain he caused you. He’d never understand that you’d never forget what he did. You were at your most vulnerable state, your body was going thru so many changes, you were constantly nauseous or vomiting, and you were keeping your pregnancy from the world. Regardless if Chris only had one conversation with another like he claimed, it hurt, and you didn’t deserve it. 

“M’sorry — I miss you, I don’t know,” he blurts out, turning his body towards you to show you have this full attention, “Bears gonna be here soon and I don’t want anything happening while we’re apart.” You don’t dare to look at him until he places a hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. His touch sends tingles up your spine, as touch starved as you were. You missed his touch more than anything, “I just want to go back to normal; to us. you’re pregnant and —.” His hoarse voice getting cut off by yours, “exactly, Chris — I’m pregnant.”

Tears sting your eyes, a few escaping as you attempt to fan them away. Chris hangs his head low, and you can see his tears make water marks on the center console, “I fucked up, I know,” he manages, the words getting stuck his throat a bit, “I can make it better – I promise I will.” 

You were at a crossroads. You didn’t know if you could believe him, you couldn’t trust him after all. You couldn’t trust the person you created a life with; it was crazy to think. The thought makes you lose control of your emotions. The waterworks start and light sobs leave your lips as Chris pulls you into a tight embrace, rubbing his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner. His own tears soaking a wet patch into your hair, you can feel his chest rise up and down as he breathes staggered breaths. It was comforting in a way; the person who caused all your pain cared enough to console you, he cared enough to cry with you.

“Jus’ please come home,” Chris hiccups, making sure to keep his grip tight on you, “I’ll sleep on the couch. I can fix it, okay? Jus’ let me fix this,” he rambles on as he smooths your hair down with the palm of his hand, repeatedly pressing light kisses to your temple as your sobs fade out. 

You pull away from Chris, tugging your sleeves over your hands and bring them up to your face to collect the leftover tears, “I don’t want — want Bear to grow up in a split up home.” The thought of having to coparent instead of having your son grow up with two active parents who love each other, and him, chokes you up. You and Chris both had two married parents who raised you, it wasn't fair that you son might not get that before he was even born. You fail to keep your composure, sob erupting from your chest, “but I don’t see us working if you can’t change your act.”

Wc - 1499

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - Big thanks to everyone who helped me reach 600 followers!! I love every single one of you so, so, sooo much!🥲🥰 I changed my handle, no longer m00nl1ghts1vt - I am now sturnmeovr! You guys are eating these angsts up and I'm not mad at you😋🫣 I made this one a bit longer, sorry about the delay! Send me asks or suggestions about Babydaddy!Chris & Sweetheart! <3

Masterlist

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

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[dahliakbs]

I love your toddler reader Batfam story’s. I love them so much

I've been meaning to make more Toddler x Batfam but the writers block is killing me, also Thank You(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡. I was starting to wonder if people really liked my stuff.

Holidays with the Waynes-⑅⁠꒱

"Why did the city give us fireworks?" Tim's gaze was trained onto the large box of fireworks placed on the front lawn of the manor.

Everyone was currently stood outside, relishing in the fact that the city was for once a quiet and peaceful place.

Nights like this were rare, especially on Holidays like this one. Everyone was trying to enjoy it to the best of their ability, including you.

You sat next to the large crate, a blue lollipop in one sticky hand while your other was struggling to wrap your tiny fingers around the lighted firecracker they'd given you earlier.

The strength in your arm was quickly waning away and all you could really do was watch as your arm slowly but awkwardly fall to the side, the weight of the firecracker becoming to much for your poor little arms to handle.

Since you were sat directly next to the large crate, the small sparks of fire that flew off the burning base of your cracker came into contact with the stem of the firework. Soon igniting the closest one to you.

Now you definitely didn't know how a firework worked at your age so the sight didn't alarm you at all.

With childlike wonder you watched as the pretty flame slowly burned the fibers of the stem, finding the dancing flame quite interesting at that moment in time.

"Father told us earlier, were you not listening?" Damian asked in an irritated tone of voice.

"Of course I heard him, all I'm saying is that this city doesn't need a bunch of supposedly airheaded celebraties setting off dangerous flaming objects on-" Tim little rant was cut off by an abrupt popping noise, followed by the familiar sound of his baby sibling's soft giggles.

Both their heads snapped to you immediately, in the short time they'd turned their heads away from you you'd somehow managed to light all the fireworks in that crate?? They looked at each other and for once they definitely knew that they were thinking the same thing.

'Who would give a toddler a mini firework?"

In their stupor the final firework in the crate ignited, causing the crate of fireworks to begin setting off right beside you.

The small sparks coming from the stems of the fireworks blazed the grass below, surrounding you in a small field of fire while you sat excited in the middle.

If those fireworks weren't setting off madly behind you in every which way they would have stopped to admire the wide toothless smile you'd had plastered onto your face.

They'd admire the way the fireworks reflected off your irises, the way the blazing flames seemed to fall so perfectly around you, surrounding you in its blazing heat and lastly they would have admired the way you sat so confidently in the blazing heat as if the sight of fire mixed with the atrocious sounds of the ignited fireworks didn't bother you at all.

They would've have admired all of that but instead they were running around like mad men.

The loud commotion summoning everyone in the area.

It didn't seem like their vigilante instincts had kicked in yet, their bodies being to relaxed by calmness from not to long ago to actually step in and help you. Instead they settled for freaking out and yelling at each other, trying to find out which one of them actually gave a toddler a mini firework.

"It seems holidays never do go well at the Wayne manor indeed" Alfred said from afar, a clicking sound resounding in the quiet, empty hallways of the Wayne manor.

This scene before him was much to beautiful for him to pass up the opportunity to photograph. Your beautiful smile was on display, how could he not take a picture?!

Of course he did this with no worry, already knowing that no one would ever allow the dancing flames to come any closer to you.

Let alone harm you.

No you were much to precious to them for them to allow that to happen...

[dunebrat]

FORBIDDEN HEIR ˚ ♡ ˚

Feyd Rautha x reader

Summary : you find yourself trapped in a loveless marriage to Glossu Beast Rabban, a man whose brutality knows no bounds. Unable to bear him an heir, you turn to Feyd Rautha, in a desperate bid to secure your position within the ruthless Harkonnen house

ㅤ────────────────────────

As a year passed since your marriage to Glossu Beast Rabban, whispers began to swirl among the women of the court. Their curious glances and subtle inquiries cut deeper than any blade, their judgment heavy in the air like a suffocating fog. You, younger than your husband and eager to prove your worth, felt the weight of their scrutiny like a leaden burden upon your shoulders. Each passing day brought with it a new wave of gossip, their tongues wagging with speculation and thinly veiled accusations.

"Why hasn't she borne him an heir yet?"

"Is she barren, or just unwilling to fulfill her duty?"

"She's too young to understand the importance of her role."

Their words stung like venom, poisoning the fragile bond between you and Glossu. As the months pass by, your husband becomes increasingly frustrated by your inability to conceive. He watches as other noble families celebrate the arrival of heirs, while the halls of the Harkonnen palace remain devoid of the pitter-patter of tiny feet. "Why have you not given me an heir yet?" he demands, his voice laced with anger and disappointment.

You feel a pang of guilt and shame as his accusatory gaze falls upon you. You know the truth that it's not for lack of trying, but rather a cruel twist of fate that has left you barren. You try to explain, to reassure him that you are doing everything in your power to fulfill your duty, but Glossu's fury knows no bounds. "You are worthless to me if you cannot bear me a child!" he bellows, his words echoing through the palace corridors.

You shrink back, feeling the weight of his words like a physical blow. You have devoted yourself to him, to the Harkonnen name, and yet it seems that will never be enough. Women were

Later that night with trembling hands and a heart heavy with guilt, you approached Feyd-Rautha. His aura, both dark and dangerous, sent shivers down your spine. But this was your last chance for a child, a flicker of hope in a sea of despair. "Please," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, "it's not Glossu's fault. Your brother's health that stands in our way. I beg of you, Feyd, help me conceive an heir or I will be sent away if I cannot do this"

His gaze bore into yours, a calculating glint betraying the mask of indifference he wore. Silence hung in the air. Then, with a tilt of his head and a ghost of a smile, Feyd-Rautha spoke, his voice like velvet wrapped around steel. "I'll consider your proposal, but remember, my dear sister-in-law, every deal with the devil comes with its price."

"I understand. Whatever the cost, I am willing to pay it." You responded

He smirks as he turns to leave, you're left alone with your thoughts

Later that night you found yourself underneath him, his cock pounding into you as he took what was rightfully yours. You could feel the power and dominance of him inside you, claiming your body for himself.

He wanted to breed you, to make you his. And as he continued to fuck you with a primal intensity, it was clear that this wasn't just about sex for him-it was an act of possession and control. He wanted to own you, and he was going to take what he thought belonged to him. He went for hours claiming you as your husband was away on another planet handling business. Taking you in every position and using your body for his own pleasure. He doesn't care about your needs or desires-he just wants to use you as a vessel for his lustful urges.

He cums inside you

you feel his hot seed fill your womb. He collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath. You lay there beneath him, feeling the weight of his body pressing down upon yours. You can feel his heart beating against your chest, and you know that he is still inside of you. He slowly pulls out of you with a soft moan as the last drops of cum drip from him onto you.

He rolls off of you and lays next to you, his breathing still heavy. You lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath as well. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, and it's a strange feeling. It feels like he has claimed your body as his own-like this is what was always meant to be between the two of you. You reach down and touch your pussy, feeling the wetness of his cum on you. It's a strange sensation-one that is both comforting and exciting at the same time.

The affair between you and Feyd unfolded as the nights passed, your meetings became bolder. As the weeks passed, a wave of nausea washed over you, leaving you weak and trembling in its wake.

Desperate for relief, you sought solace in the chambers of the healers, their gentle ministrations offering fleeting respite from the relentless onslaught of sickness. Yet, despite their best efforts, the cause of your affliction remained a mystery, shrouded in uncertainty and fear. Then, one fateful day, Glossu's booming voice echoed through the halls of the stronghold, his announcement sending shockwaves through the court like a bolt of lightning on a clear day.

"Gather round, my loyal subjects," he declared, his voice ringing with pride and triumph. "For it brings me great joy to announce that my beloved wife is with child."

A chorus of cheers erupted from the assembled crowd, their cries mingling with the pounding of your heart as you stood frozen in disbelief.

A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of Feyd's lips as you make eye contact with the true father of your child

Part 2 coming soon 𓏲◜ 🎀

[astralnymphh]

dry humping with ellie. just bucking your hips up against hers while she tries not to make a mess of her ck boxers.. whimpering UNCONTROLLABLY!! :(( she’s so cute and just gazes up at you with hearts in her eyes because she’s soo in love ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა

ellie is the biggest dry humping enthusiast out there— and will incessantly deny the fact that she is! will gainsay your claims about it on and on when she's sober from arousal, "not true babe, mh-mm, don't even know what 'ur talking about." but her impulses play reckless abandon at even the slightest untoward press of your backside into her front whilst late-night spoon-snuggling in bed. a curse divides her bitten lips, "fuck," because she knows the inevitable looms; she inwardly understands that the route her fingers take in tracing down your flank, smoothing out the creases lining your pajamas and wadding up your hip crests in her intent palms furled with more creases than— phases favorably into bucking the pulse point threatening to darken her platinum gray boxers. thin, bodytight fabric already shaped to expose the outline of her cunt; devilishly dangerous, if she were to ruin them. it is barren of her fault, though, when you listen to that throb, engage its innate fantasies, flip her under you— and splay her pretty legs to a spreadeagle position, feeling her pussy nearly scorch against your clothed entrance. humping into her, you lull the sweetest whimpers from her tense, wince-teethed lips that one may swallow with the throats of their ears and unravel from alone. but you pursue, and she climbs, "fuck– unhh, babe, feels s'good– fuckkk, m'gonna make a fuckin—" unable to comprise a sentence without gulping her syllables to come, shaky of breath and heart-shaped of eyes, withholding her legs up in the air as best as she can for you. absolutely whorring her crotch out, yet her brain's all cross since she can tell slick will be spilled, but fuck— she abhorrs wetting up her underwear so vulnerably. literally casts doe-eyes begging you to slow down, "—make a fuckin' mess, with my pussy, all over– fuckk," until, she reaches her verge, "stop, stop– fuck, fuck.. fuck baby, can't cum yet.." her pants going ragged as she vice claws the bedsheets, maybe even jerking a hand over to conceal her lips in a fist. ♡

MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . READ THIS . PALESTINE MP

wrote this while being bootyfuck tired so apologies if its rushed. i love dry humping tho so expect more!

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Green | Part 2

"I don't jump around like that!"

Tags/Warnings: Bunny hybrid! Single dad!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, major fluff, crayons and frogs

Length: 2.5k Words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“Is it bad timing?” You ask over the phone, whine Jungkook can be heard fighting a fierce battle against his little toddler, who’s clearly currently winning.

“No- Minji-“ he starts, before he addresses you. “Not- not No towards you, you never call during a bad time, I promise, I always want to talk to yo- Minji come on now!” He sighs, little girl having escaped his lap again- refusing to bend to her father’s only wish. “I promise I want to talk to you. Minji is just..”

“Having one of those days?” You giggle, and he smiles to himself.

“I guess so.” He admits. “She wants to go out and play, but I can’t get her into her outdoor clothes.” He sighs, before he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, you called because you wanted to chat and all I do is complain-“

“no, no no its fine, really.” You dismiss, truly not offended at all. “I uh.. I’ll let you battle your daughter for now. You can.. uhm, we can.. I don’t know. Talk later maybe.” You offer, and he looks at the phone a bit upset.

“I..” Well, there’s nothing there to apologize for. He’s not sorry he’s in his situation, neither is he sorry who he is or what his daughter is- it’s just an unfortunate situation you’re both in. “..yeah. let’s talk later.” He agrees, and you quietly say your goodbyes, making his heart hurt quite a bit.

Just because he’s not sorry, doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel guilty.

Minji seems to notice his shift in emotions quite quickly, quietly reaching for her outdoor pants again that he’s been trying to put on her these past twenty minutes or so- now obediently trying to put them on herself, though she does reach for his hands to get him to help her quite quickly. And even while dressing her, jungkook can’t help but think.

Will you ever be able to accompany him and his daughter out like that? Push the swing she sits on, hold her hand when he’s got his full? Maybe.

Maybe not.

All he knows is that once he’s at the playground, sitting on the bench alone again to watch the little toddler play in the sand with another prey hybrid kid, he feels as if he could be the one to throw a tantrum any second now.

Crying out, begging for the world to just let him have you.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Minji is happily walking through the mall with her dad, holding his hand tightly as to not get lost, when suddenly, as Jungkook has stopped to look at an interesting discounted product in the shelf, he can feel her tug a little as she seems interested in something as well now. “Hm?” Jungkook wonders without taking his eyes off the value pack of baby wipes, before he looks down at his daughter, who’s staring somewhere, one hand prodding at her mouth absentmindedly. “What’re you looking at, hm?” He wonders, looking into the direction she does, when he spots it.

Or rather, you.

You’re wearing simple clothes, clearly not out to impress anyone but just to get what you need, but he can’t deny that you’re still appealing like this, even though you’re not even wearing makeup from what he can see. Your fluffy tail is slightly swaying from side to side as you put something into your shopping cart, unaware of being watched.

Jungkook is curious. It seems like you must’ve made an impression on his daughter- because she appears to recognize you, most likely by your striking features. And while she’s still clinging to him, her interest in you is obvious.

As if you can feel eyes on you, you turn a little to lock eyes with Jungkook- who waves a little, before urging Minji to do the same- but at the obvious sign of being spotted, she instead hides behind his legs, as if that would protect her from the danger of you- even though there is nothing to fear. You wave back, and Jungkook can see that you’re masking your disappointment over the little girl still clearly feeling some form of natural fear.

“Come, let’s go say hi.” Jungkook tells his daughter, who looks visibly troubled by that proposal, torn between natural fearful instincts, and her inner curiosity. Suddenly however, it seems that her decision has been made- as she makes a sound of protest, slipping around his legs to attempt to walk off, if it wasn’t for Jungkook grabbing the back of her wintercoat in the last second. But she’s eager, whining in complaint- and only now does he realize, you’ve walked off, probably thinking that would be for the best.

But not for Minji.

Remembering the dinner, Jungkook has an idea on how to maybe solve this clearly frustrating issue for his daughter- picking her up easily, to walk after you as you’re now standing in front of a large collection of different tubs of ice cream. “One might think you’re the prey trying to escape.” Jungkook jokes, and the second you look at him, clearly worried, he feels his heart jump.

Because his plan is working.

The fact that Minji is now in close contact with her father gives her an intense boost of confidence- hands reaching out for you now, curious eyes fixated on your actual face now, no longer avoiding eye contact. It makes you both a bit intimidated but also hopeful that maybe, this is a sign that with a bit more work at familiarizing yourself with her, there might be a chance.

“Hello.” You greet, careful not to move too quickly, though the little hybrid girl is clearly not that jumpy anymore, giggling happily when she notices your tail wag behind you, hitting the metal shopping cart- pointing to it to show her father, who’s smiling just as much about it. “I didn’t mean to run off- just.. Thought, I don’t know.” You stumble over your words a little, but Jungkook reassures you.

“It’s fine, really. I don’t wanna.. Stall your shopping trip either. Just.. We both wanted to just.. See you, I guess.” He says, while his daughter becomes a bit fidgety, wanting to get down again. “Minji baby if I put you down you gotta stay close though.” He gently scolds her, simply receiving a sound of protest.

You’ve noticed this as well- the fact that she pretty much doesn’t talk, whenever she’s aware that people are watching. She only ever babbles with her father, but that’s to be expected. Most prey hybrids are very withdrawn and shy, so its already surprising she appears to be very much okay with you so close already. And the second he puts her down, she’s already running off-

Though not very far, as she instead happily holds onto your tail, even laughing when you look at her with eyes wide open, completely surprised.

“I’m so sorry-” Jungkook starts, but you shake your head, smiling, and waving him off.

“No, no-” You reassure. “I’m.. Happy.” You nod, carefully looking at Minji who’s running her hands through the fur of your tail, shyly grinning up at you before she lifts your tail to hide herself, making both you and Jungkook laugh.

Maybe she’s just not that scared of predators?

But that suspicion is instantly debunked as two wolf hybrids casually walk past you both to get to pay for their things, making the little bunny hybrid instantly jump back to her father, clinging to the fabric of his pants.

So why is she alright with you?

“Would you.. Like to come over sometime?” You ask Jungkook, fidgeting with your hands a little nervously. “I.. You know. Just for some.. Casual chatting. Maybe cake? I can bake pretty well.” You rant, and Jungkook looks at Minji.

“You wanna visit Dad’s friend with him?” He asks her, and she looks at you, thinking- before she nods, reaching for something in Jungkook’s shopping basket, before she drops it in your cart- and on closer inspection, it’s a small pack of frog-themed hairclips. “Oh? You don’t want them anymore?” He wonders, but his daughter shakes her head.

“..for me?” You ask, and she nods, smiling before she runs behind her father again, curiously poking her head around his body as if to play hide and seek with you. “Well.. Not what I’d usually go for, but they might look nice. What do you think?” You ask Jungkook, who’s caught off guard for a second, having to look away a bit bashful, nodding.

“Y-yeah! I mean, anything would suit you, since you’re really pretty..” He rants, nervously licking his lips before his tongue plays with the piercings of his bottom lip, unsure how to act. This isn’t exactly what he expected- but it’s also a surprising turn of events that makes him happy.

“..thank you..” You respond, before you wave at the little girl, moving to do the same towards her father-

But Jungkook instead hugs you goodbye, unable to help himself in that moment.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━

When you open the door to your apartment, Minji is very wary.

It’s to be expected- it's not just a new environment, but it also smells entirely of you- a predator hybrid, her natural enemy of sorts, at least in instinct. So it doesn’t shock him, and neither you, that she’s clinging to her father, stuffed animal in her arm while the other one clings to her father’s pantleg. But one look at you does seem to make her perk up- ears suddenly standing tall and turned towards you, shy smile on her lips while she grins into her dark green frog-plushy. “Hey. We’re a bit late-” Jungkook apologizes, but you just wave him off, letting them both inside with a smile.

“No bother, you texted me after all, so I was prepared.” You tell him, inviting them both into your living space that’s fairly small, but clearly yours. It’s vibrant, a bit chaotic, but overall a home, and not just a place you exist in. The little girl looks around already, most likely having her attention caught by all the decoration, pictures on the walls and colorful interior design you have. Jungkook also notices two awards hung up on the wall near the TV in the living room- and he’s reminded of your profession again, giving him an idea on how to coax his little girl out of her shell again.

“Hey, do you wanna know something cool?” Jungkook asks, squatting down in front of his daughter who looks at him, ears pointing towards him in curiosity. “Dad’s friend can draw really well. Maybe if you ask her nicely, she can show you?” He proposes, and at that, Minji looks over at you, who seems caught off guard- but you instantly walk to open a small room- an office that looks pretty chaotic, obviously the place where you work.

The shelves are full of books of all sizes and colors, but what seems to catch Minji’s attention the most, is a familiar bookcover- the same she has had for quite a while now, green frog family something she remembers very easily.

“Wait- you’re the author?” Jungkook wonders, holding one of the multiple little picture-books in his hands, the specific one Minji is looking at a new one she’s not seen before.

You nod. “I didn’t know she read that one.” You giggle. “This uh.. It's the new one that’ll be published next month. You can look at it if you like.” you tell her, well aware that she most likely can’t read it yet, but probably enjoys looking at the pictures anyways.

“Well, she doesn’t read, really..” jungkook chuckles, watching his daughter carefully stare you down while she picks up the book, something brewing in her brain with the way her ears move so distinctively. “she mostly looks at the pictures, and makes up her own story.” He explains.

“it trains her creativity.” You tell him, as you walk out the room with her hot on your heels, eyes still burning Luke little lasers on the back of your head. “which is important, you know? Many parents.. just leave their kids with the TV or something and call it a day.” You sigh, closing the door behind you before you watch Minji jump on your couch, eager to look at the little book.

“minji, don’t jump like that!” Jungkook scolds, and you can’t help but smile to yourself at the almost challenging glimmer in his daughter’s eyes, as if she’s quietly sending a message- one that’s so obvious, even you receive the signal clear as day.

“But Dad does it!” she suddenly chirps at you. “All’the time!” she mumbles into the backrest of the couch. Jungkook gasps at both the sheer audacity of his daughter airing out his bad habits like this- and the fact that she actually spoke directly towards you.

“Well, I’d love for you both to feel right at home.” You say gently. “So I don’t mind if you jump a little, bunny.” You tell her- and at the nickname she grows shy, hiding away to instead bury her head into her book.

Jungkook smiles at the interaction, and follows you into your kitchen to make some tea, enjoying the moment with you to its fullest. “…I really don’t jump around like that, by the way.” He suddenly tells you with such a serious tone that you can’t help but laugh at him. “Hey, I’m serious!”

“serious? Maybe, but not honest!” You giggle, making him smile as well, unable to really do anything else but. This whole situation feels like a dream really, with you at his side and his daughter warming up to you. He’s sure there will be hurdles, it won’t be a smooth ride just because right now things are looking up- but he also has found a new unique feeling.

A feeling that this might actually work.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Back home, Jungkook has busied his daughter with her coloring book and favorite crayons, while he himself prepares some dinner in the kitchen. And all is calm and well, until his daughter calls out to him from her room, a whine in her tone signaling that she needs his help urgently.

“What’s up?” He wonders towards her, before she holds out two crayons she’s never used- one red, and one orange. “What’s with them?” He asks, while she pouts to herself, thinking seriously about something.

“which is dad’s friend?” she asks, and Jungkook laughs.

“I don’t know? Maybe both of them, hm?” He wonders, and she nods- suddenly determined as she runs back to her coloring book, occupying herself again while he smiles and shakes his head, directing his attention back to the pan on the stove.

It’s only later, when he cleans up the table and finishes putting away the dishes, that she stands in front of him again, this time with a neatly ripped out page of her coloring book. “Wanna put that on the fridge?” He asks, and his daughter nods.

The picture showing three frogs, two green and one thats colored in orange and red.

[luveline]

hi jade! :) i wanted to potentially request anything with poly!marauders x reader? maybe winter themed since its december now?

you write remus, james, & sirius x reader so well that i started reading fanfic for them because of you! i love your style, keep it up lovely! <3 sending you all my love

thank you, ily!! ♡ fem!reader

James’ car idles outside of your work. 

You rush down the frosted steps despite the danger, and open the passenger door with a, “Hello,” that can't be dimmed. You could not be happier to see him in his dark-haired, light-eyed glory. Your hands shake at the sight of him alone. 

“Hello,” he says keenly. 

You climb across the handbrake to kiss him. He takes your face into two big hands, expectant, waiting for you and twice as eager. “Oh, shit, I missed you,” you say, smashed into his lips and leaning further still, “Did you have a good time? Did–” 

James rubs your cheek with his thumb, silently asking for you to slow down, and kisses you again. His lips are soft as anything, his hands a little less so, rough of his palms sliding up your cheeks to just behind your ears. He's quick and rather aggressive about it considering you're only a couple of yards from your place of work, but you don't care. 

Clearly, he missed you too. 

James breaks the kiss to hug you to him, nosing at the side of your head as he says, “I missed you too. And I had a great time. Next year, you'll come with me.” 

Your heart skips at the thought. Going home with James to visit his parents would be a dream, if only so you don't have to miss him for three weeks at a time. 

He gives you a last quick kiss and drives you home. With his suitcase still in the car and his rucksack in the footwell, you realise he's picked you up before going home, and you rub it in Sirius’ face as soon as you can. 

“He picked me,” you say, climbing out of the car, cheeks flush with the heat of having James’ hand on your thighs the entire way home. 

Sirius doesn't seem too bothered. Remus worms around him, doesn't even wait for James to get out of the car, ducking in for an awkwardly skewed but achingly affectionate hug. It's not like Remus to show his emotions in any way that could be held against him, but it's clear he trusts the three of you to never do such a thing. You wouldn't. 

“You okay?” James asks him quietly. You nearly miss it, apprehended and forced into a headlock by Sirius Black and his bad attitude. 

“No more holidays,” Remus says. 

“You look handsome anyways,” James says, “what's that about? Thriving in my absence or something?” 

Remus flushes at the suggestion —you can see it, having breathlessly escaped Sirius' cruel grasp to stand watching their reunion. He mumbles a denial and burrows deeper into James’ arms. 

Sirius is much less emotional than you or Remus, but he's in a good mood. You can tell, tucked under his happy touch. (You weren't rubbing it in that James picked you up first to be cruel, the opposite —you and Sirius love to argue. And the cool, mildly intimidating stare down thing he does gives you chills, so that's a bonus.) 

“Alright!” James says, hand on Remus’ shoulder, rucksack on his arm as he shuts and locks the driver's side door. “Let's see how you idiots have done with the decorations.” 

“Not nice,” you say. 

“But accurate,” Sirius says. 

The truth is that without James’ direction, the Christmas decorations have barely been put up. You had the common sense to erect the Christmas tree and it’s adorned with carefully draped tinsel and polished baubles, but the rest of the home is lacklustre, to say the least. You've no stockings for the electric fire, no banners, no foiled hangings or silver trappings. 

“Jesus,” James says, dropping his rucksack on the sofa. “This is sad. Where's the wooden bits? My white wooden Christmas tree? Absolutely minimal effort. I'm appalled.” 

You and Remus look at one another and shrug. “We searched. Pulled out the airing cupboard and everything, it took ages, and we still didn't find them.” 

“That's because it's up in the attic,” James says, chuckling to himself. “Idiots. Where's the stepladder?” 

And this is where Sirius’ love rears its head, his arms wrapped around James’ legs as he climbs the ladder positioned dangerously on the landing by the open stairwell. “You can't be real,” James says, swaying dangerously as he pokes around up there with a torch. “You're worried about me? You were on the roof of the shed a month ago—” 

“To get a fucking football for next door–” 

“Oh, fuck this,” James says with a sigh. Before any of you can stop him, he's leveraging himself into the attic using his upper body strength. 

You cross your arms over your chest with a smile. “That was fit.” 

“Right?” Remus murmurs. 

“Where's the fucking– Ah-hah! Alright, sweethearts, one of you come and grab this from me.” 

Sirius looks up at the creaking attic above, frowning, his eyes narrowed. “I don't trust the floor.” 

“Siri, just come and get them.” 

You build a procession line and slowly unearth the three boxes of Christmas decorations, and a box of festive linens. Sirius helps James safely down onto stable footing, while you and Remus ferry the decorations downstairs. James is the Christmas nut of the lot of you, but Remus likes what James likes, especially now he's been missing him, and so they set about decorating your home while you and Sirius argue over who's making what for dinner. James’ favourite, since he's been away so long, you argue. Pizza, Sirius decides. “Look at the state of him. You know he goes home and Euphemia spoils him half to death.” 

“Fully to death,” James says, dotting a kiss into your cheek as he passes with a sheet of snowflake window stickers. “But I was revived.” 

Sirius kisses your other cheek, and Remus shouts for you to come and see the lights, lovely!

It's nice to have everyone home. 

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Love your work ♡♡♡

I was thinking about a bull hybrid könig with a cow hybrid reader... (let's be clear not furries lol)

They both live at a farm and könig can't interact with the cute cow girls cause the farmers are worried he'll loose control and breed them all, so he can only look at them from his stable while they frolick in the fields, fisting his cock while he watches them giggle..

But then, good news! The farmers decide they want new calves, so one day könig wakes up and instead of being all alone like usual he finds his dream girl besides him, shyly telling him that she's there to be bred (bonus points if she's a virgin)

CW: my humble attempt at hybrids lol... big chested reader, (forced) breeding, voyeurism/third party watching, dubcon from both sides, fluff if you squint. 18+ MINORS DNI

The first thing König sees is her smile and bright eyes, long lashes that are cast down the second he manages to make her flustered with his stare. They’re both naked – he because he likes to sleep naked, she because… well, he doesn’t have a clue why. But his cock embarrassingly shoots up when he sees her breasts, large enough to provide milk for an entire array of babies if need be.

To his knowledge, no one has been allowed to breed his beautiful cows. He calls them his, even if he’s never seen them close, his lovely, calm women who love to bask in the sun and sometimes chase each other on the field of greenery. He likes to think they play pretend that a bull like him was chasing them, a cattle he’s trying to mount, because they giggle and run as if it was the greatest fun to be chased around in the fields.

And there’s no way they haven’t seen him watching them from his pen. It’s triple fenced to keep him from bursting out and breeding every single cow he gets under him, and they're right to be afraid because his cock is always swollen and leaking, pushing forwards and up to deliver his seed deep inside a waiting womb.

But right now, he doesn’t have to chase or fist his angry cock at the sight of the giggling women clearly in need of a good, hard dicking. Right now, he gets to examine this demure, naked girl right in front of him, clasping her hands in front of her from shyness, round breasts squishing adorably together as she does that.

The conversation that follows is intoxicating and perverse – she asks if she can touch his… that. Nodding to the dangerous sight that is his towering, twitching cock, he’s proud to present it to her fully. It’s leaking and jutting up in all its glory, and it’s only natural that she’s intrigued. He agrees on one condition: she can fondle his cock all she wants if he gets to massage her teats in return...

She looks helpless for a while, but nods eventually, taking a soft step forward. Soon, he feels a soft hand around his girth, running up and down his veined, bumpy length. There comes some hushed, adoring comments about how huge he is, and more precum leaks out, but he can’t even return the compliments, fixated on her breasts as he is. They’re heavy and plump but don’t lactate which means she has never been bred. He even tries to suck them to confirm this is the cause, making her shudder and cry from how fiercely he tries to suck and tug at both her nipples.

This crusade only ends in him spilling too soon, with sudden, thick spurts that make her yelp again from surprise. She’s holding his long pale cock in her hand, staring at the cum shooting out from the tip with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

These cows are such simple creatures, innocent and a little dumb, soft and carefree in their naivety. But he’s more disappointed with himself, wasting perfectly good seed just from a few licks and sucks at her jugs.

“That was not supposed to happen,” he grunts when she’s still staring at his throbbing cock like it’s the most amazing thing she's ever seen.

“Oh,” she whispers. “What was supposed to happen then…?’

He looks up at his silly, simple cow, and smiles darkly.

“All of that was supposed to go inside you.”

Her big, wide eyes blink, long lashes bat slowly and consistently from horror and awe.

That’s when the master of the farm barges in, stares at the scene for a moment, and then starts to yell at them.

He left them alone for a few minutes and there’s already wasted semen on the floor??

The cow is yanked away from him, her tits swollen, red and heavy from his mouth. His cock never refuses to land, it only stands up, knowing there will be more action soon to come.

The farmer complains about how much money he paid for a big breeding bull like König, only to have his stupid cow milk all the seed on the floor. They both get yelled at, called stupid and useless, and the poor, helpless girl is told to get on her knees for the bull.

He’s presented with something even better than a pair of big, round tits – he can’t even begin to get angry at the nasty pervert of a farmer. He simply can’t because his adorable meek cow is perfect, absolutely perfect, with her throbbing hole up in the air like this. It’s swollen and glossy, making his cock jerk and bounce with urgency, and the mounting happens without him even thinking about it.

The farmer sighs when he sees his bull’s first attempts at breeding. Scoffs and waves his hand in the air as König probes and prods with his cock for far too long, trying to hit the right hole while the girl is whimpering from fear and want under his heavy weight. His already seed-covered cock finally slips in, and the poor thing under him screams and shudders.

He barely remembers anything after that.

It’s both a nightmare and the most beautiful dream he’s ever had, finally getting to mount and breed a wanton cow. The mating is hurried and compulsive, his hips do their best to get another load of seed out as fast as possible. The girl trembles and moans under him, her big breasts bounce and jiggle with every thrust, and at some point something incredible happens.

The farmer is yelling again – he’s supposed to breed the cow, not give her an orgasm! – but he doesn’t care, he just continues to rut and huff and snort and grunt, bellowing loud and hard as his seed shoots forth.

His pretty little cow is shaking, trembling by the time he’s finished with the breeding, all his strong seed safe and plugged deep inside of her. She sniffles and pants under him, whines and sobs, whispers that it feels so good – and then she’s pulled away from him, led out of the pen, forced to leave his cock.

She barely gets to glance back at him with wet, glossy eyes, asking for his help, no, pleading for it. Those big, vulnerable, defenseless depths will haunt him forever, the love and affection in her eyes so vast that a few, tiny drops of cum push out of his cock just from that hopeless look alone.

They don’t even let him cuddle and hold her after, she’s being escorted away like the cattle that she is, and even if they brought him a hundred big breasted cows to breed he would never forget those eyes and that face.

He’s all spent, weak from breeding like his life depended on it, but these people truly underestimate the strength of a bull. He draws air through his nostrils like a tempest, and starts a riot like nothing else.

He destroys the whole pen in the process, nothing left but splinters of wood and some barely intact poles. The farmer is unrecognizable by the time he’s done, and his cow has fled further away, clearly afraid of him and his sudden unleash of power.

But she doesn’t flee when he goes to her.

No: her lips are pressed tightly together, her eyes still wide with awe and wonder, but she doesn’t run away like most scared cattle would do. She’s his now, and she knows it, only awaits for advice on where to go next. She will follow him wherever he goes, like a wild beast who knows her mate will keep her safe and lead her to abundant pastures: somewhere far away where their offspring can live a good, free life.

[reaperexe]

Happy ♡

summary : when Disneyland becomes the happiest place on earth with an unexpected partner.

warnings : angst, fluff to angst, sorry pookie <3

The happiest place on earth definitely didn't feel the happiest when your friend gets the flu and you're too broke to waste your tickets so you just decided to go by yourself.

But that too seemed like a stupid idea now that you stood in line for your favorite ride but without your best friend, the best friend who on call reminds you that everything happens for a reason and maybe you were meant to go alone but you just rolled your eyes at her.

the staff called on you to go take a seat but you were alone and the people behind you were a couple so of course you would sit alone for this ride too, just another pitiful reminder of how you decided to come alone.

So it was pretty surprising when the cute looking guy behind the lovey dovey couple decided to sit next to you. You just prayed that your wide eye didn't scare the guy away before the ride started.

Instead the guy started a conversation with you and suddenly the ride you were so dying to go on seemed not that interesting after all.

You're even more sold when he tells you he came here alone too, something about winning the tickets but you're too focused on the ride around you.

He even offers you his hand when he gets off the ride which you gladly take. He takes you by surprise when he asks "which ride should we go on next?".

We? as in you and him? you ask and he just nods like you asked the most simple question ever, embarrassed you just point to the next ride and let him drag you by the hand there.

He stands next to you in line, talks about the weather, about the ride you're gonna go on and you nod as he does most of the talking for a while.

laughs with you on the ride, holds your hands as it drops from a height, laughs with you while your hair floats up to the sky from the drop.

Even though you decline, still buys the pictures from the ride where you're screaming and he's laughing, he thinks its cute and you think its embarrassing but accept the picture when he shoves it in your palm.

This was YOUR trip now, his and yours. You go on every single lovey dovey ride on your list and all the crazy and dangerous rides he has on his list and its a fair trade.

You're both starving by noon and finally sit down to grab some food and only when you sit is when you realize just how much you had walked up to that point.

That lunch felt more like a catching up with a old friend than with a complete stranger you met a couple hours ago. You accepted the bites he fed you off his plate like it was second nature even offering him your food in spoonfulls.

As the sun began to set you decided to walk to the Disney castle, stopping on your way at one of those carnival games and after you both lose a lot of money you managed to win him a piglet stuffed toy.

He held the piglet in his arms as you two walked up to the castle, making it just in time for the fireworks.

You turned to look at him to see if he's looking at the scene too, just to see his eyes already on you, his face inching closer as you lean in too. The kiss was short but passionate leaving you breathless if even for a moment.

As you pull away he's distracted by the buzzing of his phone, he looks at it before he looks up at you with a sad face and your face drops too.

He mumbles a quick "i have to leave" before turning away and disappearing into the crowd. Your hands reach out fingers barely grazing the back of his shirt before he's out of reach and soon out of sight.

A loud firecracker pulls you out of your daze as you turn back to the bright castle. You briefly look down to the picture held tightly in your hand, the one you took on the ride and you realize he left with the piglet as well, each having a parting gift.

And maybe your friend's words do make sense after all 'everything does happen for a reason' and maybe this place was happy after all.

don't know if i wanna make a part 2 to this but let me know if you would like one.

[rowretro]

𝕾𝖔 𝕾𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖞

✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, unhealthy love, mentions of blood, thriller, gore, death

♡synopsis: Y/n's not afraid of the dark... maybe she might be scared of what's in the dark. The ghosts? monsters? death hunting her down ready to grab her by its fist? of course not. She's scared of her ex.... he's so scary....

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

Y/n yawned as she walked down the creepy, dark hallways of the abandoned high school. Tables scattered here and there, blood splatters dried ones and even fresh ones, painting the ground and wall. Evidence of human life being tortured and tormented for days before being ripped into pieces and left on the ground, rotting into the floorboards. Y/n was rather more disgusted, shocked the police hasn't once come across this place... Oh wait- that's a dead officer from the 90's seems he died a few weeks ago. Why was she here exactly?

It's stupid of course. Her dear friend who had been acting weird lately, dragged her to this place, challenging her claiming she'll die of fear before the ghost even gets to her. Y/n was no idiot, denying any invitation to the murder house. Yet Angela Yin, her best friend, dragged her in, the doors shutting behind them, and jammed shut. Then Angela went missing. That's how y/n found herself wandering the empty classroom where the ugly thing was just a second ago. She groaned, grabbing a key she found as she walked toward a door that had a matching lock.

She's ran into the killer once, it left a fog of smoke, causing her trip over small thing. It's nails disgusting and long like claws, head snapped off, hanging backwards. Eyes gauged out and mouth wide open. It was disgusting. its arms reached forward, but it can only see behind itself. That helped y/n, it was so blind it didn't bother looking in the cabinet where she hid in pure silence.

Just as she was about to put the key in the lock, a thick black liquid, slid from under the door, taking over the big, thick wooden rectangle, that blocked whatever was in that room from her. She groaned, arms crossed, as her foot tapped against the tattered floor impatiently, she stared at the many creepy hands holding eyeballs and organs waving them around through the now blackened, inky door. "What do you want from my ghost?... In my 18 years the worst thing I'd ever done to hurt anyone was being sarcastic and throwing parties when I'm home alone, now did that hurt you?" she asked as the eyeballs glared right at her.

"na how bout we talk about what YOU did? kill everyone who tried to send you to a better place, figure out a crime, or at least run home to their family? I don't know why Angela dragged me here, but once I drag that bitch home she's getting it. And you listen to me. I know deep inside you know you did something wrong, hence you killed so many innocent people and are trying to haunt me. I'm not scared of you because you were once a human like me... So why don't you get out of my way, and I leave you alone if you leave me and possibly Angela alone too kay?"

Y/n said confidently as if negotiating with a person who's afraid of her. yet the thick inky liquid disappeared, and the door opened. "That's what I thought." she said, dragging her sharp rusty metal weapon along with her. Yet the doors closed, there stood Angela, eyes pure black, veins visible in her arms and face, no longer blue or purple but black. Her teeth grew sharp as she approached y/n, her bony hands wrapped tightly around y/n's neck, choking her. "Fuck- Angela- What the fuck?! stupid ghost bitch I thought I told you we had a deal." Y/n choked out.

However the girl let go of y/n impulsively, as she fainted, the ghost screaming as it was forced out of her. There she saw a sight that scared her most "Nishimura No......." she mumbled as Riki dusted himself off. "Yes.... Im back baby." he said with a smirk. She threw a table at him and rushed outside, now lost in the dark woods, there, vulnerable, and in the depths of danger, possible vampires and Werewolves that had escaped the military's hold, roaming around in need of blood. That's why she broke up with him.

"Wow babe, one way to say thank you for saving your life, and hi to your darling boyfriend" Riki's deep voice echoed as he walked out from behind the trees. She backed away from him. Her ex. Riki. She broke up with him after she saw her suck the blood of her cousin. "I told you already we're broken up." she said mustering up enough courage to at least try to sound like she was confident in her words. "No you made that decision. Not me, so sorry you're stuck with me." he said as y/n glared at him. He groaned running a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Darling.... I only drink blood of a human when I need to, and I only suck the blood of those who do wrong in the world and you know what your cousin did to you..." he said as he gently grabbed her arm, scanning over the healing scars on her arms. She gently pulled away, feeling herself falling into his love trap yet again, like a moth to a flame. "You're not scared of my love.... you're clearly scared for me... y/n I love you and you're mine you can never change that. I don't understand why me being half demon half vampire scares you.... I'd never hurt you... you know it. They can't ever kill me, I'm practically immortal.... So please. take my hand and let me take you to OUR home." he said as he grabbed her arm... yet she pulled away roughly.

"Nishimura Riki. I may love you... but I don't trust you... I don't want you anymore.... Im over you..." she said, almost as if convincing herself, "Then you leave me no choice." He said, yanking her into his embrace, teeth stabbing into her collarbone.... He imprinted her, kissing her lovingly right after. There's no turning back now "I'll go home then-" Angela suddenly said walking toward her boyfriends car, as y/n was still dazed.

She was his now. She realized how too such perfect care of her, before their break up, and even now, as she stared at the permanent mark on her collarbone in the reflection of the mirror. She didn't find him so scary anymore. The comforting environment of his groans of annoyance every time he lost a game his comfortable room, his cologne intertwining in the air, the large white sweater that slipped off her shoulder, so comfortable as she hugged it closer to her skin, his sweater...He's not so scary after all...

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