#obssessed

[rustymoons]

Served some of the best angst in two words, this blog needs more attention 🙏

Getting in a fight with ot7 and it being super angsty? Like they say something super hurtful to reader and immediately regret it ( ˘ ³˘)♥

☆Getting in a figth with ENHYPEN. ☆

This writing is my own; no copies, adaptations, or translations are allowed. I hope you like it. (English is not my first language.) 

✦ 4.9K words✧ Angst! Conflict* Masterlist˚ Taglist✧ Requests “Open”₊‧ ✦𓂃  ✦Taglist: @lezleeferguson-120 @nuki-riki @ijustwannareadstuff20 @vvenusoncasual @miellette

N/a: I hope you like it a lot, sorry for the wait. Love u! 🩷

✦ Part 2 ✦𓂃

Heeseung☆

You had tried to ignore it. To convince yourself that it wasn’t a big deal, that it shouldn’t affect you so much. You knew it was part of his job, that he had always been this way with his fans. But every smile, every glance, every affectionate gesture he gave them made you feel invisible.

Today, you finally couldn’t take it anymore.

The sound of the door opening pulled you out of your thoughts. Heeseung walked in with the same calmness as always, unaware of the lump in your throat or the storm burning in your chest. He walked to the couch, set his backpack down, and sat beside you, resting his head on your shoulder with a sigh.

For a moment, you hesitated. Maybe this wasn’t the right time. Maybe you should wait…

No. If you didn’t talk about it now, you might never do it.

“Heeseung, can we talk?” you murmured, gently moving him away from your shoulder.

He tensed instantly.

“I don’t think this is the right time,” he replied without looking at you. “I’m exhausted.”

His dry tone hit you straight in the chest. All the patience you had planned to approach this with vanished instantly.

“I don’t like the way you interact with your fans,” you blurted out. “If I didn’t know you, I’d think they were your girlfriends.”

Heeseung let out a dry, incredulous laugh.

“Do you even hear yourself? You’re acting like a child.”

He stood up from the couch, turning his back to you.

“Is this how you solve problems?” you asked, standing up as well. “By ignoring them?”

He froze but said nothing.

“I just want to talk,” you continued. “To tell you how I feel, how I’ve been feeling all these months.”

Finally, he turned to look at you. His expression had hardened, his gaze sharp.

“I warned you before we started dating.”

“Yeah, but…”

“There’s no ‘but,’” he cut you off coldly. “This is my job. You accepted it. It’s not my fault if you don’t like it now, but there’s nothing I can do.”

His words felt like a stab to the heart.

You felt your eyes burn with tears, and before you could stop them, they rolled down your cheeks.

Then, he said it.

“I don’t even know why I started this with you. I was better off alone, without having to worry about whether my actions affect you or not.”

The final blow.

Heeseung turned and disappeared into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

You stood there, heart shattered. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. You could only feel the emptiness his words left in your chest.

Without thinking twice, you grabbed your bag and walked out of the house, shutting the door firmly behind you. You needed to leave. To get away from him.

The cold night air hit your face as you reached your car. Trembling, you pulled the keys from your pocket, but before you could open the door, a hand caught your wrist.

“Don’t go… please.”

His voice was broken.

You looked up and found him there, his eyes glistening, his face pale, his chest rising and falling with desperation.

“Stop, let me go,” you whispered, pulling your hand free with a gentle tug. “You already made it clear you were better off without me.”

“I didn’t mean it…” His grip trembled. “I don’t want a life without you. I don’t want to be without you… please, let’s talk.”

Small tears welled up in his eyes.

“I love you. I don’t know why I said that… Stay with me, okay?”

He clung to your waist, holding you tightly, as if afraid you would disappear into thin air.

“Heeseung, let me go,” you whispered, feeling the pain settle in your chest. “You said you were better off alone, and now you think a simple ‘I’m sorry’ is enough to fix everything?”

He froze, feeling his world crumble around him.

“But…”

“No buts,” you cut him off, your voice trembling. “I need time. Alone.”

You pulled away from him and got into the car, ignoring his desperate pleas.

You were dying to hold him. To talk. To fix things.

But you knew how these things worked.

People don’t appreciate what they have until they lose it.

jay☆

Jay had been distant lately, short replies, ignored messages, and canceled calls. You tried to be understanding, but the weight of being overlooked grew heavier, especially when you saw him laughing with friends online while leaving you on read.

Today was the breaking point.

Sitting on his couch, you waited as he stayed glued to his phone, not even greeting you with a smile.

“Jay, can we talk?”

For the first time that night, he lifted his gaze from the screen and sighed, resting his elbow on his knee as he ran a hand down his face.

“About what?”

His tone was dry, distant. That only made the lump in your throat tighten even more.

“About… us.”

He clicked his tongue and leaned back on the couch, resting his head against the cushion.

“I don’t think this is the right time for this,” he muttered, not even looking at you.

You bit your lip, feeling frustration bubble up inside you.

“Then when is the right time, Jay? Because every time I try to talk to you, there’s always something more important.”

His jaw tensed, but he said nothing.

“I feel like I’m losing you,” you admitted in a small voice, hoping, praying, that at least that would make him react.

But instead, he let out a dry, emotionless laugh.

“Don’t be dramatic.”

Your heart sank.

“Dramatic? Jay, you barely talk to me lately. You don’t call, you don’t check in… I feel like you don’t want me around.”

He sighed in exasperation and finally looked at you, but his expression wasn’t what you expected. There was no guilt, no concern… just exhaustion.

“I don’t know what you expect from me,” he finally said. “I can’t be checking in on you all the time.”

Silence.

His words hit like a punch to the stomach.

It wasn’t just what he said, it was how he said it. The indifference in his eyes, the coldness in his tone. As if everything you had been feeling these past few days had been an overreaction, as if you were asking for too much.

“I’m not asking you to check in on me all the time,” you whispered, your vision blurring with tears. “I just want to know if I still matter to you.”

He didn’t answer.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You stood up, grabbing your bag, determined to leave before the tears fell. You walked to the door without looking back, but just as your hand touched the doorknob, you felt a tug on your wrist.

“Don’t go.”

Jay’s voice no longer sounded indifferent. There was urgency in his tone, a desperation you hadn’t heard in weeks.

“Let me go, Jay.”

You tried to pull your hand away, but he held on tighter.

“I didn’t mean that,” he said quickly, his eyes scanning your face anxiously. “I don’t know why I said it. I don’t want this to end, I don’t want you to leave.”

The first tear slipped down your cheek, and he rushed to wipe it away with his thumb—but you turned your face away.

“Now you care?”

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching.

“I’ve always cared. I was just… an idiot.”

“Yes, you were.”

Jay closed his eyes for a second, as if his own words had hit him.

“Give me another chance. Stay.”

His hands clung to yours, his grip unsteady, almost pleading. But as much as it hurt to see him like this, you knew you couldn’t give in so easily.

“It’s not that simple, Jay. You can’t treat me like I’m disposable and then ask me to stay when you see I’m actually willing to leave.”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then you should’ve thought about that before.”

Jay fell silent. His hands loosened their grip, giving you the chance to step back.

“I need time.”

Jay shook his head, as if the very thought of being without you was impossible to accept.

“How long?”

“I don’t know.”

He clenched his fists but slowly nodded, realizing he had no choice but to accept your decision.

You took one last look at his desperate expression before stepping out the door.

Jake☆

Arguments with Jake were rare. He had always been the kind of person who soothed rather than provoked, the type to fix things with soft words and warm embraces rather than sharp remarks. But this time… this time was different.

"You always do this!" you exploded, frustration bubbling over before you could stop yourself.

Jake exhaled sharply, his fingers raking through his hair as he paced the living room. His usual patience, the quiet calm that you loved so much, was nowhere to be found.

"Do what?" he shot back, his voice harsher than you’d ever heard it. "Try to do everything right and still never be enough for you?"

His words slammed into you like a brick wall.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Is that what you think?" you murmured, barely able to recognize your own voice.

Jake clenched his jaw, but he didn’t take it back. The silence that followed was deafening.

And then, he spoke again.

"Maybe you’d be better off with someone else."

Everything around you seemed to freeze. The air felt heavier, suffocating. The walls of the apartment, which had always felt like home, now felt too small, pressing in on you from all sides.

For a second, Jake didn’t seem to realize what he had just said. It had slipped out—reckless, thoughtless, cutting deeper than either of you could have anticipated. But then he saw it. The way your face crumbled. The way your eyes, wide with disbelief, filled with tears you refused to let fall.

His breath hitched. "No…" His voice wavered, panic replacing the anger that had been fueling him just moments ago. "No, wait, I didn’t mean that."

But you were already moving. Already reaching for your bag, your fingers shaking as you slung it over your shoulder.

Jake was in front of you in an instant, blocking your path to the door. His hands, the same hands that had always held you so gently, now trembled as they reached for you.

"Please," he begged, his voice hoarse. "Please don’t go."

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

"Baby," he pleaded, stepping closer. His eyes were glossy, his chest rising and falling erratically. "I swear, I didn’t mean it. I was angry. I wasn’t thinking."

His fingers brushed against your wrist, desperate to hold on, but you pulled away as if his touch burned. You swallowed hard, willing yourself not to break.

"You don’t say things like that if you don’t mean them," you said quietly.

Jake shook his head violently, his lips parted as if searching for the right words, words that could erase what he had done, words that could fix the crack spreading between you.

"It’s not true," he whispered. "I don’t want anyone else. I just… " He broke off, running a hand down his face as if trying to wipe away the mistake, trying to undo what had already been said. "I just got scared. I felt like I was failing you. And I lashed out. Please, you have to believe me."

But you had already heard enough.

The pain in your chest was unbearable, a dull ache that spread through every inch of you. You wanted to believe him, wanted to throw yourself into his arms and let him tell you it was all just a mistake. But the words were still there, lingering in the air like smoke, unavoidable, irreversible.

"Please," Jake whispered again. His voice was breaking, cracking under the weight of desperation. "Don't leave me like this."

You hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough to see the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, the way his lips trembled as if he were holding back tears.

But you couldn't stay.

You turned away, reaching for the doorknob.

"Wait…" Jake's voice shattered, raw and broken. He moved forward as if to stop you, but this time, he didn’t reach out. He just stood there, frozen, his entire body trembling.

And then, you stepped outside.

The door closed behind you with a soft click, a sound so final it made Jake flinch.

Inside, he stood motionless, staring at the empty space where you had just been. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. The silence around him was deafening.

And then, the first tear fell.

He wiped at it roughly, as if denying its existence would somehow make this less real. But the second one followed. Then the third. Until they wouldn’t stop, until the weight of what he had done crushed down on him entirely.

Jake had always been the kind of person who fixed things with hugs, with gentle reassurances and whispered apologies. But for the first time, he had no idea if that would be enough.

Because you were gone. And he had no idea if you would come back.

Sunghoon☆

The atmosphere in the café had shifted. What had started as a quiet afternoon together now felt suffocating, the once warm air thick with tension. Sunghoon sat across from you, his expression unreadable, but the way his fingers tapped sharply against the wooden table gave away his impatience. His coffee remained untouched, the steam curling into the air, ignored.

You noticed the tight clench of his jaw, the way his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at you with narrowed eyes. Something was wrong.

And then, he spoke.

“Are you really going to keep ignoring it?” His voice was low, controlled, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it, sharp and dangerous.

You blinked, confused. “Ignore what?”

Sunghoon let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head slightly as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Don’t play dumb.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve been smiling at that guy like an idiot all afternoon.”

It took you a second to process his words.

“The waiter?” you asked, your brows furrowing in disbelief.

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened further.

“Sunghoon, are you serious?” you let out a small chuckle, half expecting him to realize how ridiculous he sounded.

But he didn’t.

His expression only darkened. “You think this is funny?” His tone was sharper now, colder. “This isn’t the first time you do this. You always act like this, like you love getting attention from every guy who crosses your path.”

A wave of indignation surged through you, hot and immediate.

“Excuse me?” you snapped, your voice rising slightly.

Sunghoon didn’t flinch. If anything, his glare only intensified.

“Don’t pretend,” he continued, voice laced with bitterness. “You love having everyone chasing after you, don’t you? Like it’s a game. Like I’m an idiot for taking you seriously.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. Your breath caught in your throat, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag as the accusation sank in.

He didn’t trust you.

No matter how much you had given, no matter how many times you had reassured him, he still believed that your love was something shallow, something fleeting, something you could toss aside for the next person who looked your way.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The café’s background noise seemed distant, muffled beneath the roaring in your ears. The clinking of cups, the quiet murmur of conversations, the sound of footsteps, it all faded into nothing.

Sunghoon’s face changed almost instantly. As if the weight of his own words had just crashed down on him.

“No…” his voice faltered. “Wait.”

His anger dissolved into something else, something dangerously close to regret. His fingers twitched on the table, as if he wanted to reach for you but hesitated.

But it was too late.

You were already grabbing your bag, the chair scraping against the floor as you stood up abruptly.

“I didn’t mean that,” he said, his voice urgent now. “I swear I didn’t mean it.”

You met his gaze, your own eyes burning, not with tears, but with something worse. With disappointment. With exhaustion.

How many times had you fought this same battle? How many times had you tried to prove your love to someone who refused to see it?

Your hands trembled as you adjusted the strap of your bag, your heart pounding against your ribs.

Sunghoon reached out, fingers brushing against your wrist in a desperate attempt to stop you.

“Please,” he murmured. The anger from before was gone, replaced with something raw, something desperate. “Don’t leave like this.”

But you had already made up your mind.

You pulled your arm away, stepping back as his face crumbled.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered.

The weight of those words settled between you, heavy and irreversible.

And then, without looking back, you walked away.

The bell above the café door chimed softly as you stepped outside, the cool air hitting your face like a slap. The world outside moved on as if nothing had happened, as if the conversation inside hadn’t just ripped a hole through your chest.

Behind you, Sunghoon remained frozen in place, staring at the empty space where you had just been. His breathing was unsteady, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

He had pushed too hard. Said too much.

And now, he was left with nothing but the ache of his own words, words that could never be taken back.

Sunoo☆

The apartment was quiet, too quiet, except for the distant hum of Sunoo’s voice in the other room. You weren’t trying to eavesdrop. You had only come to tell him that dinner was ready, your steps light, your mind occupied with thoughts of the meal you had prepared.

But then, his words stopped you in your tracks.

“It’s just that sometimes it’s too much…” His voice carried a weight you weren’t used to hearing from him, strained, exasperated. “I don’t know, she can just be so annoying.”

The world seemed to freeze.

Your heart clenched, a dull ache spreading through your chest.

Sunoo let out a sigh, oblivious to the way your body had gone rigid just outside the doorway. “It’s not that I don’t love her, but sometimes I feel like I have to put up with too much.”

The pain in your chest tightened, sharp and unforgiving. A lump formed in your throat, making it hard to breathe.

You didn’t need to hear more.

Instinctively, you took a step back, the slight shuffle of your foot against the floor breaking the silence. It was barely a sound, but it was enough. Enough for Sunoo to hear. Enough for him to turn around.

The moment his eyes met yours, all the color drained from his face.

“I.. no…” He immediately fumbled to hang up the phone, his voice suddenly laced with panic. “That’s not what I meant.”

You didn’t respond.

You couldn’t.

Your hands trembled as you curled them into fists at your sides, willing yourself to stay composed, to keep your emotions from spilling over.

Sunoo took a cautious step forward. “Please, let me explain.”

But you had already started moving toward the door, your body acting before your mind could catch up.

“Don’t go!” His voice was desperate now, the sharp edge from earlier completely gone. He rushed toward you, his arms reaching out as if he could physically stop you from slipping away. “I didn’t mean that, I was frustrated, I wasn’t thinking.”

But none of it mattered.

None of it could take back what he had said.

With shaking hands, you grabbed your bag, fumbling with the strap as you pulled it over your shoulder. Your breath was uneven, your mind a blur of hurt and disbelief.

You felt him step closer. “Please, don’t leave me like this,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together.

You turned just for a second, and what you saw nearly made you hesitate.

Sunoo stood there, completely shattered. His lips were parted as if searching for the right words, his eyes shining with raw desperation. He looked… afraid. Like he had just realized, too late, that he had pushed too hard, said too much.

“I was just upset,” he said quickly, trying to explain, trying to fix what was already broken. “I said something stupid. That’s not how I really feel.”

But you had already heard enough.

The words lingered in your mind, repeating over and over like an unforgiving echo.

She can be so annoying.

I have to put up with too much.

You shook your head, too drained to argue, too hurt to listen to more excuses. You felt the weight of his gaze on you, heavy with regret, with desperation. But even so, it wasn’t enough to make you stay.

“And what if it is?” you whispered, the words slipping past your lips before you could stop them.

Sunoo tensed, his breath hitching, but you didn’t wait for a response.

You turned back toward the door, your fingers wrapping around the handle as you pulled it open. The cool air from the hallway brushed against your skin, a harsh contrast to the suffocating warmth of the apartment.

“Wait,” Sunoo pleaded one last time, stepping forward like he might reach for you again, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Because you were already gone.

You stepped over the threshold without looking back, letting the door swing shut behind you.

Even through the barrier, you could still hear him.

Your name, falling from his lips, broken and desperate.

Begging you to stay.

To listen.

To give him another chance.

But at that moment, the pain was too overwhelming, too heavy to carry.

And so, you kept walking.

Jungwon☆

The door closed with a soft thud as Jungwon stepped into the apartment, his movements sluggish, shoulders slumped under the weight of exhaustion. He barely had the energy to slip off his shoes before trudging further inside, dragging his feet against the hardwood floor. The dim lighting of the living room cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the fatigue etched into his features.

Without a word, he collapsed onto the couch, letting out a heavy sigh as he leaned his head back, eyes sliding shut.

“You should rest more,” you said softly, stepping closer. “You can’t keep pushing yourself like this, Jungwon. It’s not good for you.”

His eyelids fluttered open, but instead of gratitude, his expression was unreadable, blank, almost. Then, a flicker of irritation crossed his face, darkening his tired eyes.

“Don’t start,” he muttered, rubbing his temples as if your words had only added to his headache. “I already have enough on my plate.”

The sharpness in his voice caught you off guard.

“I’m not starting anything,” you said, frowning. “I just care about you.”

“Well, don’t,” he snapped.

You stiffened.

“I don’t need you telling me what to do like I’m a child.”

His words hit you harder than they should have. The weight of them settled in your chest, heavy and uncomfortable. You had only wanted to comfort him, to remind him that he didn’t have to carry everything alone. But the way he spat those words out, as if your concern was nothing more than an annoyance, made your stomach twist.

“I’m just trying to help…” you murmured, voice quieter now, less certain.

Jungwon let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head.

“If you really wanted to help, you’d leave me alone.”

Silence.

The impact of his words landed like a punch to the gut. Your breath hitched slightly, but you refused to let it show. You simply stood there, staring at him, feeling a lump form in your throat.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Jungwon blinked, his irritation fading as realization dawned on him, too late. His body tensed, exhaustion replaced by something far worse: panic.

“No, wait…” he said quickly, pushing himself up from the couch. His movements were rushed, frantic. “I didn’t mean that.”

He reached for you, hands trembling slightly as if trying to take back the damage his words had already done.

“I’m sorry, love, really,” he pleaded, his voice softer now, almost desperate. “I’m just stressed. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t.

His fingers brushed against your wrist, trying to hold onto you, but you instinctively stepped back. The hurt in your eyes must have been evident because Jungwon’s face crumbled.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

He leaned in slightly, as if to press a kiss to your forehead, as if physical closeness could undo the sting of his words. But before he could, you turned on your heel and walked toward the bedroom.

His heart clenched.

“Leave me alone,” you said firmly as you closed the door behind you.

Jungwon stood frozen in the hallway, staring at the closed door, the finality of it sinking in. The guilt weighed down on his chest, heavier than before, suffocating. He had spent the entire day carrying exhaustion, stress, frustration—too much of everything. And yet, now, the only thing he felt was regret.

Because this time, his words had done more damage than he could fix in a single moment.

Ni-ki☆

The room was filled with laughter, the warm hum of voices overlapping as the boys played. Controllers clicked rapidly, bursts of excitement and groans of frustration filling the air. Ni-ki sat in the middle of it all, completely absorbed in the game, his brows furrowed in intense concentration. His lips were pressed into a thin line, fingers gripping the controller tightly as he struggled to regain control after making a mistake.

You couldn’t help but smile.

“Aw, Ni-ki, you look like a baby when you get frustrated,” you teased, reaching over to gently pinch his cheek.

The others immediately latched onto your words, laughter rippling through the group.

“Yeah, our baby Ni-ki,” one of the guys added playfully.

The teasing continued, harmless in your eyes, just another joke among friends. But then, something shifted.

The controller in Ni-ki’s hands suddenly dropped with a sharp thud against the floor. The sound cut through the laughter like a knife. He stood up so abruptly that the couch creaked under the sudden movement.

“Come here,” he said, voice clipped, expression unreadable as he grabbed your wrist.

Confused, you let him pull you away from the others, the laughter fading behind you as he led you out of the room and into the hallway. The door shut with a quiet click, sealing you both away from the noise and playful energy you had just been immersed in.

It was only then that you noticed his expression, his jaw was clenched, his eyes dark with frustration.

“What was that about?” you asked, frowning.

���Can you stop doing that?”

Your brows knitted together. “Stop what?”

“Treating me like a kid,” he snapped, voice sharper than you’d ever heard it. “It’s ridiculous.”

Your stomach twisted slightly, caught off guard by the sudden hostility.

“Ni-ki, it was just a joke…” you tried to explain, your voice softer now.

“Well, it’s not funny,” he cut in, frustration seeping into every syllable. “You always do this. You think you’re so amusing, but all you do is make everyone see me as immature.”

His words stung, but before you could even react, he delivered the final blow.

“Sometimes… being with you feels like an embarrassment.”

The world around you seemed to freeze.

A heavy silence settled between you both, suffocating, crushing. Your heart clenched painfully, the weight of his words sinking in far too quickly.

Ni-ki’s eyes widened slightly, as if he had just realized what he had said. The frustration drained from his face within seconds, replaced by something much worse, panic.

“No… wait.” His voice was suddenly smaller, unsteady. “I didn’t mean that.”

But the damage had already been done.

You took a step back, your throat tightening, your fingers trembling at your sides.

“I understand,” you murmured, barely above a whisper.

“No, you don’t understand,” Ni-ki said quickly, his desperation growing with every second that passed. He reached out for your hand, but you pulled away before he could touch you.

“I was just upset,” he continued, voice raw now. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

You swallowed hard, forcing down the lump forming in your throat. You hated how much his words had affected you, how much they hurt.

“I’m leaving.”

His entire body tensed.

“No, please…” his voice cracked, his composure slipping right in front of you. “Don’t leave like this.”

You turned toward the door, feeling the burn of his gaze on you, the unspoken plea in his eyes. When he reached out again, his fingers barely grazing your wrist this time, you gently pulled away. Even through the desperation radiating off of him, you could feel the guilt settling in, consuming him.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered, his voice nearly breaking under the weight of his regret. “Please stay.”

You hesitated for just a moment, but then you shook your head.

Without another word, you stepped out of the house, the cool air hitting your skin like a harsh reminder of reality. Ni-ki didn’t try to follow you. He stood frozen in the doorway, watching you leave, his expression shattered.

It wasn’t until the door finally shut behind you that the full realization hit him, he had pushed you away. And now, all he could do was drown in the silence you left behind, guilt sinking deep into his bones.

Too late.

Want a part two? 🩷

𓂃 ִֶָ 🎀 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨! 🍥 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, @shyoko

[daintydolldiary]

How to beg someone for attention without directly begging someone for attention???

[sofiisx]

True

[x4ver1a]

does knowing me more lead to loving me less?

[petew21-blog]

My brother's friend Billy

This is my brother's friend Billy. They have been friends since I can remember. And ever since I knew him, I was obsessed with him. I looked up to him, but I was always blown away how beautiful he was. It didn't matter that he and my brother bullied me. Whenever he touched me, I was in heaven.

Especially amazing was the moment I found out, how to shapeshift into other people. All I needed was one piece of clothing worn by that person and I would become them. At first it happened to me when I used my brother's shirt instead of mine accidentally. I immediately shifted into his exact copy. I was shocked, but curious to explore more. But someone was coming close to my room, so I quickly threw away his shirt, put on mine and waited for the changes to shift back.

And that's when my quest to get Billy's clothing started. But it was really hard to get clothes from someone who didn't live at our house.

One day our parents decided to visit grandparents for a weekend and leave us alone at the house. My brother obviously invited Billy and some girls. They invited me to join them too. I mostly spoke to the girls and from time to time checked if Billy did take of some piece of clothing.

They got drunk pretty soon and moved to my brother's bedroom. I waited outside the door for the moans to stop. After some time I decided to enter. It was dark and they were all sleeping already. God knows what they did together...

I checked for some underwear, shirt or something else that would be Billy's. Finally I found a sock. I grabbed it and carefully left the room.

I entered my room and locked the door, stripping myself, leaving only my underwear on. I sniffed the sock. It was dirty and slightly wet. This sock was on his beautiful foot! I was about to become my dreamy guy. The one I desired the most.

I took my dick in one hand and started jerking off. With my second hand, I clumsily tried to get it on. After a few unsuccesful attempts I managed to do it.

I felt the changes. I felt as my hair elonged into his. My face changing structure. My body enlarging, but my abs protruding. My legs became hairier.

My feet were finally his. I put his leg to my nose. What others would describe as a cheesy disgusting smell, I couldn't get enough of. It was so strong, manly and Billy! I look exactly like Billy!

As my hands explored my beautiful feet, my forearms brushed over the hairy legs. I continued to feel my big, full lips, my pointy nose. My hairy pits that I inhaled for a long time and licked even longer. I also tried to lick, make out and suck Billy's hot biceps, trying to do a hickey on it. Then my left hand gave more attention to the forming tent. I threw away the underwear binding me from the proper enjoyment.

I was now completely naked. Billy was naked in my bed! Or atleast his body. I started humping my bed and touching myself in the process. I felt so strong and horny.

I grabbed my phone to take some photos. I need to document this!

I did many shots of his body from above, close shots of his feet, his pits, his gorgeous dick, his ass.

I did shots that would be amazing for me to jerk off to in case I would have to give back his clothes

I loved his veiny arms. His nipples. His lean and tight body.

I felt more and more like Billy. I wanted to be with his body all the time. To smell his scent. To have him for myself.

When I took last photo of Billy's body on my bed, covered in a towel, there was a knock on the door.

I looked at the phone. It was morning already! "FUCK"

I took off Billy's sock and put on my own clothes, putting his sock in my pocket.

I opened the door.

"Hey, perv. Did you take Billy's sock? He can't find it anywhere, so I need to check if you did not jerk into it?"

"Fuck off. Of course I didn't take it. Didn't he leave it in the living room? You guys partied there pretty hard. Maybe he threw it somewhere"

They all went to look in the living room, which gave me chance to put his sock under my brother's pilllow.

They did not give up the search and eventualy found it, which made me a bit sad, because now I didn't have any clothing that would turn me to Billy.

I became obsessed with the photos I took when I was shifted into him. I jerked off to those photos every day like 5 times.

But something changed in me. When Billy came over, he played videogames with my brother or talk about girls. As I observed him move, laugh, fart and talk about fucking pussy, I felt disgusted. That's not the way he should be treating that body. I treated it better. He doesn't deserve it!

I realised I was not obsessed with Billy. I was obsessed with his body. Therefore I made a plan to make his body mine. I shapshifted into my brother, lured Billy into our house and took care of it.

Yeah, maybe there would be a less messy way to do that. Maybe I should have seen a therapist before all of this. Maybe leaving traces of my blood in my room and leaving my brothers fingerprints on the knife were a bit too much. But what was I suppose to do? My old body would be missing and I had to pin it on someone. And who better then the guy who spent the most time with Billy? He would definitely find out that I'm not the original Billy.

You can call me cold or heartless. But watching from my car as the police dragged away my ex-brother for possible murder of my old body was satisfying. I am now completely Billy and there is no one stopping me.

There is only one thing left. What should I do with Billy's dead body in my trunk?

[computed-dear]

I don't even know what to say

Jim is like Spock is doing intense mind stuff let me stare intensely to be part of it and then act like I don't love him or whatever

[thehauntedetheral]

JUST AN WRITING IDEA.

I just had a weird writing idea. Imagine you are a daughter from a very influential and wealthy business family. Your parents want to set you up for an arrange marriage with a powerful family just like yours. So to escape from this arranged marriage you came up with a plan. You told your parents you like yandere and want to marry him only. And your parents loved this. Because after all yandere has everything power, status, reputation, money, everything. But how come you are ready to marry him? What's the sudden change of heart? After throwing so many tantrums and rejecting numerous grooms.

Well few days ago your best friend told you that yandere likes only men and might be in a secret relationship with his male secretary. And he doesn't tell about his sexuality to anyone because his family who has most of the shares of company is homophobic.

So you made a plan. You told your parents you want to marry yandere only and no one else and yandere doesn't like women so he will obviously reject you and you will cry over the rejection and postpone your arrange marriage for some months in the facade of heartbreak.

Your plan began. To show your family and people that you are badly down for yandere you did many things. You flirted with him like a shameless every chance you got.

Would tell everyone how you are madly in love with him and will marry him one day. While people thinking that you are the most delusional person on this earth.

You would crash into his office uninvited and act like a cute girlfriend which you totally are not.

Would call him the most weird and chessy names like "My marshmallow, my sweet pea, love of my life, my future husband" in front of everyone while yandere ignores you like it's a daily occurrence which actually now has become a daily occurence.

"Won't you give your girlfriend a hug or a kiss?"

"I know your way of telling me that you love me is ignoring me"

One day you brought a huge ass size flower bouquet for him while saying "Since you don't give me flowers one of us have to do this babe"

You quite enjoyed teasing him. And did I mention you also teased his secreaty with yandere's name. By saying "Yandere is quite good looking good choice secretary. Have a nice night" while winking at him.

You are hundred percent sure that yandere thinks you are one of his crazy delulu fangirls just like thousands of many. But is only tolerating you because you are daughter of one of his important person.

Until one day he drags you into a corner at an event. Traping your back infront of a wall with his arms from side towering above you.

"Are you really that desperate to marry me, huh?" He asked.

"Well of course after all you are the love of my life " you Said smiling staying in your crazy fangirl character.

"Then marry me this weekend " he said with the most straight expression.

"Wait. Aren't you gay?" You said being totally surprised.

"I have always liked women y/n. "

Little do you know yandere ignored you in start but as the time passed now you have got him stuck with your thoughts 24/7. And there is no way backing out now. He is going to have you no matter what.

This is just a idea I got into my mind and shared it with you. Hope you liked it. If you want a longer version let me know through comments.

For More Yandere Reading:

[enamouredcarcass]

──── ♡. °·───┈୨୧°.·꒰♰꒱·.°୨୧┈───·°.♡ ─────

yandere but in the sense i am pathetic and would do anything for you because all i want is for you to be happy

yandere but in the way i want you to kidnap me because i have no real desire to interact with anyone but you

yandere in the sense i need so much love from you because i need to know you won't leave because it'll literally kill me

yandere but in the sense that i am heavily dependent on you because i wanna harness mutual codependency because i am all you should need

──── ♡. °·───┈୨୧°.·꒰♰꒱·.°୨୧┈───·°.♡ ─────

[adoredelora]

I want someone to be obsessed with me.

[d3composedlove]

I want my love to be like a drug,, so addicting u couldn’t get enough!!

[stuck-writing-sickos]

In Poor Taste [P2]

[Series Link]

(Yandere x Reader)

[Warning: misogyny, xenophobia, hint to racism, explicit language, asshole male lead]

You were never crazy about spoiled rich men. They were nothing but troubles.

He knew your type. Quiet, agreeable, and a little bit of a pushover.

He didn't say it, but he had noticed your lack of reaction when Tahara revoked your right to the summer break. Truth was, he never paid attention to women like you when he was in college. The quiet ones who took things seriously as if they had something to lose, those were hard to get. He never bothered with those who were hard to get when there were plenty of other options. He liked the sunkissed  blondes who knew to dress up in white sundresses and spaghetti straps, those who knew to party on Saturday and yoga class on Sunday. They never put up a hard fight, just the right amount, and when he got bored so did they. In and out of his bedroom they whirled, whimsical and effortless. He never bothered to find out if they were smart or complicated, and if they tried to show him, he'd move on to the next. A part of him felt bad, but the encouraging jokes and nudges of his frat brothers overrode that twinge in his chest when he saw sad eyes following him down the campus walkway. It didn't matter, not if he got the liquor and summer yatch trips.

He also liked other types. Soft-spoken brunettes who listened to sad songs and doodled hearts onto his notes. Fierce raven-haired girls who knew to throw back shots and moved their bodies to the music. The rich exchange girls who, despite their attitudes, knew their ways around his body and submitted to his rhythm. He liked them all because he could consume them, so he said he support women. Those he didn't like, well, they were on their own.

So he didn't mind that you were older and reserved. True, he never bothered with women like you because he thought he could do without them, but now that he was in Tokyo all alone, he could see your values. So, he thought to look.

You were the serious type. Soft-spoken, patient, and reserved. You looked after yourself rather dilligently - your clothes fit well, and you smelled of subtle floral perfume. Your movement when you walked around the school were gentle but decisive - you knew what to do, and you did it quick, as if you always had something better to do. A part of him didn't like that. For why, he didn't interrogate. "Why" was never a questioned he bothered with, since he could do well for the first 22 years of his life without it. When someone always get what they want, they hardly ever want to know "why".

He knew he was brash and bold to ask you out for dinner, but he assumed you knew the implication. He was interested enough. You had a fine body, and you knew how to look good. "Late bloomer" was what he liked to call women like you, the type who took themselves too seriously in school, but then learnt how to be pretty in their latter years. They would know how to relax, to not be so uptight.

So there he sat in a booth at a restaurant downtown, waiting, a little impatient to see that you were late. Perhaps he was to blame to tell you to take your time and freshen up at home. He wondered if you would doll up. Where would you show your skin? Where would you shave? He liked it shaved. His fingers toyed with the small tea cup, tapping its side and running down the curve of its rim.

"Hi! Sorry for the wait... I was caught up with a phone call."

He looked up. There you were, smiling down at him. He shamelessly looked at your body, studying the way the nice dress pants accentuate your hip and ass. Then, as you sat down, he took notes of your off-shoulder top, then the blink of your earrings. You may tried to make it seem innocuous, but he could tell. You dressed up for him.

"Not at all! I just got here."

You kept your smile on. He didn't notice that it was manufactured. He was caught up watching you leaning forward, your fingers flipping over the menu. The way your cleavage was catching shadow captured his attention.

"So, how is Tokyo treating you?"

He didn't think you would speak first. You barely humored any small talks during the day, only giving him just enough.

"It's good, it's good", he mused, "I'm enjoying the new culture and people. It's all very new to me, so I'm excited."

You looked up at him now, your eyes narrowing as your smile widened.

"It's a great city. There's always something to look at. Do you ever miss your friends and family, though?"

He leaned in as well, closing the gap. He could see you flinch just barely as his fluffy black curls almost tickle your forehead.

"Well, of course. I miss my family a lot, especially my sister. She's applying for college soon, and I wish I could be there to support her, you know?"

"You have a sister?"

He was pleased to see you following the script so far. Girls were often intrigued by the fact that he had a sister - it means he grew up knowing how to be sensitive and protective. It was a reliable card to play.

"Yeah, we grew up quite close, you know. I still remember her crying like a baby when I left for college", he chuckled, "now it's her turn."

You laughed softly at that.

"Yeah... she must be so sad to see you go to Japan, right?"

He nods, his eyes flickering between your face and your neck, eager to peer right down your top. You must be wearing those stick-on nipple covers to rock a top like that.

"Oh, she was, but she's more excited to be independent in college. Too excited, to be honest. I had to warn her not to get in troubles."

"What kind of trouble?"

He found himself looking at your lips now. Your gentle voice and soft gaze managed to distract him. For a second, he found himself pausing to stare.

"Oh... alcohol, drugs, bad friends. You know the deal."

"Did you get into troubles in college, too?"

The simple question now seemed so implicative. He swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing, and he saw that you looked. Your lashes flutterred for a second before your eyes met his.

Empty.

You were harder to read than he thought. Perhaps it was the age difference, he wondered, or the fact that your naturally composed attitude had sealed your attraction toward him. He never hit on an older woman before, so he supposed it was only natural that he couldn't catch your energy right away. Or were you secretly experienced? Three years seemed little to him at first, but he suddenly felt self-conscious at your still demeanor. You were still smiling and expectant, but in a different way than he imagined. You were yet to be doe-eyed, yet to melt when she heard about his bond with his sister. How many men had had their ways with you? Did you please them well? Did you moved and squirm under their touch? He felt himself heating up.

"Good afternoon, dear customers. May I take your order?"

He almost jumped. You didn't. Awkwardly pointing to the menu, he glanced at you who quickly said your orders. You seemed comfortable.

Did he lose his edge?

The waiter swiftly left. Lukas felt that the chemistry was disrupted. His keen eyes watched your form pulling back away from him, and he caught the faint perfume wafting his way. He decided to keep his posture forward, staying on the offensive side.

"I guess I did get into some troubles", he admitted, his hand instinctively rubbing the nape of his neck, as if to conceal what his clothes couldn't. His skin was warm to the touch.

"Well, what kind?"

He couldn't tell if you were interested. You were asking him lots of questions, even from the start. Did you want to know more about him?

"Oh, we were crazy. One time, a pledge covered himself in lighter fluid and lit himself on fire before jumping into the pool."

"Ah... so the typical frat bros stuff. I guess I've seen something like that at X. Uni", you nodded, your smile turning a bit cheeky.

He shifted even closer.

"Yeah, we were bad boys. Were you in a sorrority? Greek life is big at X."

You shook yout head slowly.

"No... It seemed very fun, but I guess I was too focused on other stuff."

"What stuff?"

"I was trying to keep my scholarship, so that took most of my time, I guess. I wasn't too involved with student life aside trom the school's art magazine."

"So you are a smartie?"

You hung your head humbly.

"I guess you could say that."

"So what did you do to blow off steam, then? Or were you at the library all day?"

He felt just a bit desperate trying to know you. He knew his bombarding questions were coming off a little strong, but he didn't want to feel exposed and insecure anymore. He had opened up, he thought it would be fair if you let him in a little. Wind down, be less uptight.

"I went to Ellum sometimes."

Ellum, the bar street. So you knew how to party after all. Maybe you did have experiences with men.

"Oh, me and my boys liked it there."

"For troubles?"

He laughed.

"For troubles, yeah. It'd be crazy if we met and never knew it."

"Well, it was all dark and loud in there. Maybe we did."

"Then it's fate."

He felt corny saying it, but the words slipped out anyway. His heart twisted when you laughed at that, your chest vibrating. You lifted your hand to cover your smile, and he saw a glimpse of ink as your top pulled against your shoulder. Tattoos, huh? He didn't peg you as the type to get them.

Seeing that it was his chance, he reached over to adjust the fabric, his fingertips lingering just a moment too long. He felt it, the electric as he felt your cool skin against his own. You were soft and smooth, like a nice spread of butter against crispy toast.

"Oh, my bad, I just saw your shirt falling off a little there."

Your laugh dwindled. You touched where he touched, your chest rising and lowering at a slower beat.

Lukas found himself feeling expectant.

"Ah, well, thank you", you said, your voice more relaxed now. That was a good sign.

The waiters came back with the orders and left just as hurriedly.

"I have a question", Lukas mused, somehow anxious to lose your attention when you reached for your utensils.

"Pray tell."

"What's the best food place that you've ever been in Tokyo?"

He winced internally. Corny and immature, that was what he was being. What a 17-year-old first date question that was.

"I'd say the unlabelled streetfood carts at the open-air markets", you said, your finger resting on your chin for a moment, "I like to go there if I ever have to stay late at work."

"You gotta show me sometimes, then. I love streetfood!"

He felt stupid clawing at any ways he could to compel your interest. You were right there, laughing at his jokes, asking about his family, paying attention to him. Yet somehow he still felt like you were distant, somewhere in an invisible fish bowl, and what he had said to you were muffled through the water and glass.

"Of course, I'd be happy to. But let me know if you are allergic to anything, or if you are scared of seafood."

"Not at all", he confidently shook his head, "I went to Italy last summer, and the seafood was amazing!"

"Trip across Europe?"

"Trip across Europe", he nodded, "I'd say, Italy for best seafood, France for best wine, Germany for best beer, and Netherlands for the best, well, you know..."

You playfully rolled your eyes.

"I see you like to travel."

"Oh, it changes my whole perspective. I really found myself, you know. It's like... I come back a whole different person. I think everyone should travel."

You gave him a strange look. Not a scowl nor a frown. A gentle squint of the eyes. It could be anything. He couldn't decide if he was being too boastful, or if he had said something wrong. Did you not like that? Maybe you hadn't been as well-travelled as he was, and what he said had come across as unrelatable.

"But of course, you know, if your money allows it. It doesn't cost as much as you think if you know how to budget."

The playful twinkle in your eyes told him that you were responding to him, and likely not negatively. Still, he felt more stupid adding on to what he said. He didn't know why, but he felt as though you were looking down on him.

Why would you look down on him?

Lukas may not realize it, but this was one of the rare occasions when he let the "why" bother him.

"Of course, travelling can be great. I haven't travelled much, but I imagine that when I have enough money, I would travel. I have a few places in mind."

"Where to?"

"For starter, Norway."

Weird answer.

"What's in Norway?"

"The aurora borealis."

He furrowed his brows.

"You want to see the northern light?"

"More than anything."

"It doesn't cost that much though."

"Yeah, but solo travelling costs more, I imagine."

"I can go with you."

He felt decidedly stupid and overconfident.

"Wouldn't that be something...", you commented, your eyes casting aside, "well, that's my top destination for sure."

You were growing cold again. Lukas couldn't for the life of him figure out where he was going wrong. Maybe you just weren't attracted to him, but that was unlikely. He knew how good he looked. He may have heard "sorry I have a boyfriend" and "I'm looking for something serious", but he couldn't think of a time when someone had admitted to him not being their type. Not even behind his back.

"Also, you seem to like to drink. Two out of the four places you mentioned was about alcohol."

He didn't expect you to pick up on the conversation. Maybe he simply had gotten into his head.

"Oh, I guess. I did drink a lot in college, but that's just what it was all about, you know?"

"About troubles, I know."

He felt his face growing hot.

"Right... well, I'd love to know what other Japanese drinks are like, too. I've tasted sake, but it was mild. I'm more of a beer and shots guy."

"Wine, too, right? In France."

You had not once lost your composure. He felt like he was squirming in his seat. He wanted to sleep with you, that was clear. He needed to know what it was like to get with someone older than him, even if it was a mere three years. What would you be like in bed? What did you learn from all the men from your past? The unphased facade, the tattoo, the way you maintained your calm upon his touch and his banter... you knew something he didn't. You had experienced things he hadn't.

"Right, that. Do you drink at all? Here, in Japan, I mean."

"Sometimes."

"Hey, it's a Friday night. Do you maybe want to grab a drink at a pub somewhere after this?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, incredulous. He knew he was being brash and bold, but he couldn't help it. You were something he wanted to add to his collection.

Letting you mull over it, he watched your calm face.

"Sure...", you softly agreed, "but only for a little while."

"Something coming up tomorrow?"

Someone to see tomorrow?

Your blank eyes glimmered under the flourescent light for a second. He almost wanted to hold his breath.

"Just some personal affair in the afternoon."

There you go being elusive again. He thought he would have had you in his palm by now, but not yet. Maybe he didn't know your type.

[404-horang-i]

Let me cover your pretty skin in bruises and bite marks.

Let me scar the soft tissue with my nails, my teeth and my knives. Let me leave my mark on you, oh my beloved darling.

Wear them proudly, show the world who you belong to.

Show them that you’re mine.

[daintydolldiary]

The first thing I do when I wake up is check if you've messaged, posted, or interacted with me in anyway, and the last thing I do before I go to bed is pray that I dream of you, my Darling ♡

[greycloudsinwinter]

Hello. The headcanon you shared for Maegor was great. Can you write more yandere Maegor? The reader got married Maegor and the reader is the only wife who gives birth to healthy children.

YANDERE MAEGOR X READER WHO GAVE BIRTH TO HEALTHY CHILD

🔪he married you because of his deep infatuation with you . To be honest he just wanted to be with you .

🔪he wanted a child so desperately and if the gods gave him one he would treat the child with such care and dedication no one could say he was a bad father.

🔪when he hears that you are pregnant it’s a mixture of pure love and worry.

🔪because of the worry he hides you away from everyone ESPECIALLY his wife’s in fear they will kill the child inside you .

🔪out of love he gives you anything you want a beautiful cradle with hand crafted dragon on it a symbol of the babes inheritance when it’s born.

🔪when you are in labour he becomes distraught unsure what to do he barks orders at the maesters to make you better. When you scream in agony he tries his best to soothe you by whispering words of inspiration and encouragement.

🔪when the babe is born and starts to cry he CRIES . He never thought he would feel so content before he loves you more then ever and the little of bundle of joy you have is now his most prized possession.

🔪after the first babe he waits before he tries for another not wanting to seem greedy or anger the gods .

🔪but after you give birth to another child that’s it . All the other wives are executed and you are his only wife …

🔪you will probably have 10 to 13 children so be prepared because now you have gifted him with this bundle of joy . You are going to give him many MANY more .. just a warning

Thank you for this request ❤️❤️

[monstersholygrail]

I recently got into Beastars and I’m about to make it everybody’s problem

[chillqu33n]

Just a silly triangle :)