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[eastleighsblog]

You have the right to be angry, there were so many times someone should have been there for you and nobody was.

[eastleighsblog]

This is amazing go read her story @karinasbaby

sim jaeyun — brighter days inc.

— “you’ll wait for my love? “i waited for your love.”

pairing. fem!reader x sim jaeyun.

warnings. angst, my heaviest angst post yet tbh, fluff moments here & there, layla !!, lots of miscommunication, lots of crying and panicking moments, no happy ending :(

word count. 12.3k

synopsis. just how bad was the punishment of falling in love with sim jaeyun?

— a, note. i apologise in advance for this, i would like to point out that this was completely and fully inspired by the we can’t be friends music video along with the entire eternal sunshine album by ariana !! i only added minor details & scenes here and there but hope u enjoy ! <3 p.s !! this whole post is viewed better in dark mode !!

「 just wanna let this story die, and i’ll be alright. 」

The soft fabric of your shirt soothed your trembling fingers, gentle wind breezing past you once the bell of the door jingled ahead of you, indicating the arrival of another patient wretched with agony and their own pain.

Your vision danced between the walls, the countless photos that hung on the brick pillars claiming a guaranteed peace of mind with the eye catching and loud titles of “brighter days ahead!”, different posters inked with the participants’ positive reviews towards the operation that haunted the patients whom were anxiously sat next to you, some wiping their tears while others gazed hopelessly into the wooden floors, their legs shaking up and down the longer the nurse took to call their names.

You pulled your jacket closer to your chest, in hopes of it protecting you from the words printed onto the paper in front of you, you had read the sentences over a hundred times by now yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to fully accept them.

You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give “Brighter Days Inc.” the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory:

— ☐ yes | ☐ no

Closing your eyes multiple times while chanting “please let me wake up” was deemed futile, you couldn’t bring yourself to face the reality of the situation you had put yourself in. Though you had your reasons, countless of them. You had every right to sit in the waiting room for this clinic, yet you still couldn’t gather up the courage to fully accept the weight of the truth.

The great weight of the truth that weighed heavily on your shoulders, you knew this was the correct decision. You knew you weren’t physically affecting anyone by doing this, you practically weren’t going to hurt after this, yet your actions still hurt the present you, the one who was able to sense a thin veil of tears forming along her waterline for the nth time since you stepped foot into this clinic.

And you were doing this to save her from the pain, from the heartbreak you had been suffering through. The harsh wood of the board felt hurtful against your skin, the piece of wood agonisingly heavy atop your fingertips, your hand placed the pen in your lap before it instinctively moved towards your neck, caressing the special pine cone necklace that adorned your chest.

The feeling of the pendant beneath your touch felt gut wrenching, your whole being freezing as the sudden sharp edges grazed your skin, the pendant that held so many great memories to you that you hoped would comfort you for the last time felt like the thorns of a rose splitting your fingertips.

It was the sudden sharp dig of the edge of the pine that reminded you of a precious memory, one of the most special days in your life when your two favourite people walked into it.

Your foot sunk deeply into the snow beneath you, the wind a cold breeze blowing against your blushed face, your nose a distinct red shade as you sniffed due to the cold weather, hands digging further into your warm pockets to allow the blood to rush back to your frozen fingertips.

The breath turned into a glowing mist ahead of your eyes as it tumbled past your lips, you smiled softly at the sound of your best friend announcing her departure to collect more wood for the fireplace the two of you had wanted to create, you turned your head to the side to locate her small figure slowly disappearing into the slight fog that started to form a few minutes before the two of you had arrived to the small forest.

You took notice of how heavy the snow was, the ground a vast white that glittered with the sunrays, the sudden urge to lay on the floor that appeared as faux clouds and cotton overcame your senses and before you could rethink your decisions, you were already surrounded by the comforting cold of the snow hugging your every limb and every inch of your body.

Memories of your childhood flashed through your eyes, the happy moments that were filled with laughter exchanged between you and your friend as the two of you made snow angels, joyful giggles flew in the air around you once you both stood up to compare the shapes to one another and chuckle at the ridiculous outcomes.

Before you could fully indulge yourself in the memory, you felt a foreign object pressing against your foot, your eyes shot downwards to the sight of a dark circular item— a pine cone?

Your heartbeat unexpectedly picked up its pace, was there someone around? You weren’t in an area that had pine trees around them, they were atleast a few miles away from you.

Loud rustling reached your ears from ahead, what sounded like a person quickly walking— in an abnormally fast way that made you prepare yourself for the appearance of any random person, your senses heightening at the possible danger awaiting, the shadow slowly appeared in front of the fog, a really short one that confused you.

Once the mist finally had dispersed, revealing the last outcome you had been expecting— an adorable puppy that jumped its way through the snow, you stared at the shimmering fur that had gotten covered with small bits of the sparkling snow, the puppy barked at you in excitement, their tail swaying behind them in the snow while their shining eyes studied your face.

Your hands held onto the pine cone, a smile stretching out on your face once you noticed that the puppy was waiting for you to return the item, sitting in front of you patiently in a well behaved manner, a clear indication of how attentive and careful their owner is.

“Is this yours, hm?” You questioned, voice playful and low in fear of possibly disturbing the overly excited puppy who only barked in delight at your question, and as your hand was reaching forward to return the beloved pine cone, you and the sweet puppy’s ears picked up the distressed yells a large distance away.

The puppy turned its body towards the direction it came from, breathing the cold air in before barking countless times as if to signal their location and on cue the rushed footsteps that dug into the snow approached your figures closer.

“There you are, Layla.” A young boy appeared from between the twinkling mist, his features sharp and eye catching the closer he walked towards both of you, a charming smile etching its way onto his chiseled face at the sight of his beloved dog, “I was getting worried, pretty girl.” He breathed out in relief before finally noticing your presence.

His back suddenly straightened, shoulders pulling back while his eyes widened before the prettiest pink you’ve ever seen dusted his ears and cheeks, “oh hi.” He breathed out shyly, he could feel his heartbeat drumming in his ears as the last thing he was expecting to find Layla next to was a gorgeous girl.

You couldn’t help the quickened thump of your own heart either, the appearance of this young guy that was clad in a large dark coat, black pants along with a matching hat that revealed small peaks of his dark brown hair had your mind reeling, he was undeniably handsome.

“hello.” You whispered back, instinctively holding the pine cone towards your chest as holding eye contact with the beautiful man only made your body buzz further with excitement and nervousness, the guy also losing his internal battle with the possibility of facing you as his eyes had only been following his dog’s moving tail in hopes of calming his own nerves down.

The said puppy’s gaze danced between her owner and the new friend, unfamiliar with her owner’s sudden shy side appearing in front of a potential friend making her suspicions arise, and the moment she was about to bark in the direction of her owner once again, the guy spoke out.

“Did she tackle you onto the floor?” He asked, tone laced with concern at the realisation of your position on the snow while you held the pine cone in your hand, “no!” You quickly denied once you lifted your head and saw his worried expression, thousands of apologies disappeared from his tongue at your words and he couldn’t help but breathe another sigh of relief, “I’m actually making… snow angels.” Your voice had dropped a few octaves towards the end.

Quieting your own words to hide them from the handsome guy that you prayed wouldn’t make fun of you for your childish behaviour from your first ever encounter, you were preparing yourself for the worst reaction to slap you across the face and for his laughter to reach your ears yet— “oh I love snow angels!” His excited voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You turned to face him again, to see the genuine excitement and fondness lacing his face before patting the snow next to you, a warm smile gracing your features that made the unknown boy’s heart to leap in his chest, “come join me!”

The loud ring of the bell harshly pulled you out of the sweet memory into the reality you had been dreading, all of your senses returning to the present made a sinking feeling take over your heart, by the time you leave this place you won’t be able to remember this precious memory.

Your hand instinctively wrapped around the pine cone, in attempt to protect and shield it from the possibility of disappearing, the idea of one of the most precious days of your life dissipating from your memory lane made your shoulders sink further, the anxious feeling of pure unease settled deeply into your bones, and before you were able to prepare yourself further, you felt your throat closing up.

And as if your own body had turned its back towards you, your gaze had shifted beneath the cursed words to the bottom of the paper, where a clear and bold line awaited your pen to grace upon it.

signature: ________

Your vision then travelled towards the boxes, the finality of your decision settling into your limbs when your hand finally moved from your necklace to hold onto the pen again, and with a heavy heart along with a new veil of tears aligning your eyes, you finally allowed the first drop of ink to land on the paper.

☒ yes | ☐ no

The wind around you turned colder, it felt as if the breeze was scolding you for such decisions, the guilt by now had started to eat you up alive, tainting your brain and choking you up on your own unshed tears, you tried to breathe in deeply, attempting to calm your heaving chest down as with each passing second you felt your lungs constricting further.

“Miss, are you ready?” The nurse had suddenly appeared next to you, caring and worried eyes scanning your shaky figure on the seat, knuckles white around the wooden board that held your signature and confirmation for the procedure, your head lowered in shame of the sight of your tears being revealed, though all the hurt was evident in your body language.

“This way, miss.” She quickly guided you towards the office, your hand reached out to carry the box next to you, the cardboard that contained all of your memories that were stuffed into items, her hand reached out to hold the trembling board from your weak one while the other hovered around your lower back, bringing an odd sense of comfort for you as your feet walked you towards your own heartbreak.

The walls of the office appeared cold to the touch, the solid floor beneath you brought the aura of seriousness for you, almost as if awakening you from your hurtful thoughts to the reality of the situation, there was no turning back now. Then with each step that you took towards the chair, memories of this morning took over your mind.

Layla, your precious puppy sat ahead of your crouched figure in front of the bed, you sat atop the mattress that felt so unwelcoming, so foreign to you, as if you hadn’t slept multiple times between the same sheets with your love before.

Your puppy was cautious, big shining eyes studying every tear drop that ascended down the curve of your cheekbone, her own body slouching with each sob that wrecked through your body, “I’m sorry.” The yellow light from your bedside table casted a soft glow on both of your small figures, Layla reached towards you, one of her paws landing besides you on the bed as she lifted herself up while the other was placed gently against your leg.

“I can’t continue staying here, baby.” You explained to her, with each break in your voice her ears dropped lower, the sadness and confusion evident all over her adorable face, long gone was the look of excitement and pure love that painted her face whenever she saw you, as if she was able to understand your words she pushed her fluffy body towards you more.

“I can’t be with you, or jaeyun anymore.” You whispered, sweaty and cold palms reached out towards her small face, her golden fur comforting you as it brushed against your skin, you allowed her loving presence to curtain over the overwhelming sense of fright that your stomach was unable to digest, her familiar scent coating your senses bringing a feeling of ease into your panicked state.

“I love you so much.” You whispered to your little cupid, the one who had brought you together with your first true love. The one who had unknowingly brought so much happiness and joy to your dull life with her and her father’s presence.

“Are you ready, miss?” The doctor called out, dragging you out from the reality that only existed in your head now, a cloud of doom now hovered above your head as there was no space to return back to, this was it. That was your last time with Layla, ever.

The pill of the reminder suddenly seemed to large to swallow, the thought of an eternal separation from your beloved little cupid felt agonising to you, the tightening in your chest worsened, your fingers dug into your own palm to cause the tiniest bit of satisfaction when the pain travelled throughout your nerves, you deserved this.

You had known this was the correct decision a long time ago, this was the only way you had been able to save yourself but god how could you be so selfish at the same time? How could you leave two very important people behind you and live in eternal bliss? You heart began to thunder against your ribs, each thump begging you to return, to turn back on your footsteps and go back home.

To return to your love, to your small family, to endure the pain and the sting of the knowledge that jaeyun would never view you the way you had done.

To return to your angel, the one who sat by the door with her tail swaying behind her excitedly at the sight of the door opening, in hopes of a possible walk with her best friend, then her tail suddenly paused atop the wooden floor while her pointy and excited ears dropped, breaking your heart when you crouched down to kiss her head for the final time, in hopes of your feelings conveying to her through the loving contact, atleast for the last time.

You knew the love you held for him had to be dissipated. Though the pure, innocent adoration and devotion your heart carried for him didn’t deserve to be gone. Yet it wasn’t worth putting Jaeyun through possible pain and suffering.

If only you had known from the start that this was the consequence of your actions of inviting Jaeyun to create snow angels with you on that morning would lead you to the punishment of falling in love with Jaeyun, you would’ve never stepped foot into the snow that day.

The doctor held your hand gently, his eyes held nothing but sympathy and pity for you, your fingers pale and shaky in his hold as he placed the small device on your index finger, the pulse reader instantly showing your quickened heartbeat on the screen, “the procedure is going to be a quick and painless one…” the doctor’s words echoed throughout your eardrums, each word drifting off from one ear to the other as your vision was stuck on the numbers constantly picking up.

As if a chain had been tightened around your neck, your throat closed up further, you suppressed every sob that threatened to escape from you, your feet had gotten numb on the chair at some point while you shut your eyes with reassuring words replaying in your head in attempts to soothe yourself, yet each one was being repeated atop of an image of a smiling jaeyun behind your closed eyes.

The nurse behind you had brought the two iron pieces closer to your temples, each one glowing with a red light, indicating the disconnection while they approached your skin, and once both pieces were attached to you as if they were pieces of magnets, your heart only sunk further in your body.

The doctor exchanged incoherent words with the nurse that your ears weren’t able to comprehend, your senses only picking up the constant beeping of the monitor, each beat picked up its speed, symbolising how your heart was beating rapidly at the thought of your one and only love, at the thought of losing him entirely in less than a few minutes.

Your eyes then landed on the screen besides you, blue lights blinding your sight as you took in the multiple tabs open on the screen with “generating link” as the largest one, the percentage increased quickly, each number made your breath turn shorter as the gravity was finally settling in, the small sting that you felt on the sides of your head was incomparable to the ache of your heart, still filled with so much useless hope after all these months.

“Are you ready?” The doctor asked, a consoling smile etched onto his features, you nodded quickly, eager to get the procedure done with now before your weak heart convinced you to run outside of this clinic and into the arms of the man you fell in love with.

“Alright then.. we should be starting…” the doctor’s voice slowly disappeared, his words gradually faded away from you as your eyes remained shut while the machine forced you to a trip down your beloved memory lane, your memory path that was dedicated for sim jaeyun only.

The first memory you had shared with him after your first encounter played in front of your closed eyes, you remembered this one in a crystal clear way, the sight of you and Jaeyun walking hand in hand was imprinted onto the back of your eyelids, the familiar sight making your heart jump into your throat.

“I’m gonna win you the teddy bear!” Jaeyun shouted excitedly as he walked, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle while he made his way through the crowd in the carnival, rushing towards the claw machine quickly, bumping into random people every few seconds making you laugh at his enthusiasm, unaware of jaeyun’s heart thundering in his chest at the sound of your laughter.

“You really don’t have to, Jake.” You rushed besides him and the second the baby blue and pink lights of the machine landed on your smiling face he felt his breath hitching in his throat, your shining eyes presenting as windows to your excitement and pure joy you felt besides him made his heart leap in his chest, “but i want to.” he breathed out gently, mesmerised besides your distracted frame.

your eyes studied the glass window curiously, jaeyun was confused as to why he could tell exactly when your eyes landed on the teddy bear he mentioned, confused as to why he was able to study all of your expressions so well so soon, to why they mattered and intrigued him so much, surely the fleeing thought of cradling your face gently into his arms was an intrusive one, and totally not because of his own feelings and urge to do so, right?

his hands reached out to push his coin into the slot before reaching towards the small handle, his fingers buzzed with excitement and anxiety, the need to win this teddy bear for you chanting throughout his mind as he lowered the claw onto the fluffy toy, and once the iron claws wrapped around the bear, your hand sneaked its way between both of your figures to lace with his fingers, a soft squeeze of encouragement that made the boy’s heart thump needily.

“You got it, jake!” you beamed from besides him, you quickly held the fluffy toy in your arms, hugging the precious teddy close to you, the sight making jake’s world slow down its rotation, his heart jumping into his throat as he took in the sight of your happy expression, your sweet and thankful words falling onto his ear before they travelled out the other, he was hypnotised, your happiness casting a spell on him effortlessly.

“Jaeyun..” he suddenly breathed out, snapping back into reality with a soft, loving smiling permanently etching its way onto his face, “hmm?” You questioned, moving your sparkling eyes from the toy to his handsome face, his sweet grin made rose dust along your cheeks, he reached out to hold your hand before he spoke out again, “call me jaeyun.”

“Okay, jaeyun.” You chuckled affectionately at him, one hand intertwined with his slender fingers while the other held the teddy close to your heart, “what are you going to name it?” His eyes dropped back onto the teddy, quickly switching the topic as his heart felt like it was on the verge of exploding the longer he drowned in the ocean of your eyes.

“Jakey.” You smiled at the sight of his eyes widening, eyebrows lifting as he audibly laughed, the sound ringing like melodies in your ears. The view of him blushing and laughing under the stars becoming your favourite in that instant as everything else around you blurred and your sole focus was on him and only him.

“Let’s take you and Jakey to the ferris wheel then.” He joked before walking towards the said ride, fingers still laced with yours as he pulled your shy figure gently to follow him throughout the crowd.

And suddenly with a mere blink you were stuck in the middle of moving bodies, one hand unbearably cold while the other held onto a teddy, confusion laced your expression as the lights of the ferris wheel glowed ahead of you, why were you here in the first place?

Just like that, Jaeyun disappeared from a precious memory that belonged to you.

Your surroundings in front of the ferris wheel darkened, a small circle of light engulfing you before your dissociated out from the memory, you had your eyes closed shut, not daring to open them when all you could hear was the murmurs of the doctor and the nurse confirming the removal in the first memory.

All you could detect was the consistent sinking and pain aching in your heart, the dizziness in your head as you altered your memories and forcefully removed the only person who you ever truly loved in your life, the agony from the thought so great that it allowed new streaks of tears to decorate your skin.

And as you let out another shaky breath, you were pushed into another memory.

The harsh breeze of the wind grazed jaeyun’s skin while his teeth chattered slightly at the icy stabs along his arms, he quickly moved from the sidewalk to the empty road that accompanied the ray of sunlight courtesy to the shorter buildings next to it.

His shoulders relaxed at the warmth that travelled his system, his fingers didn’t feel like they were about to fall off anymore the longer he kept them pushed into his pockets under the sun, he relished in the vast difference between the cold breeze and the warm sunlight, a weird sense of soothe scurrying into his mind.

The comparison was awfully familiar, yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it reminded him of.

Nonetheless he continued walking, making the final turn that allowed the sight of his house to enter his line of vision, his insides buzzed with worry and excitement at seeing you again, your appearance always brought him solace especially when he walked into the view of you playing with Layla happily in the living room.

Yet whenever he remembered the position both of you were stuck in regarding your importance in his life, his mind got jumbled with negativity and worry again.

But he was determined that tonight was going to make a difference.

Especially with the apology he had spent days memorising, his finger brushed against the small box in his pocket that brought an unexpected but welcomed wave of positivity for him, it was the first time that he felt so confident in himself with something that involved both of you.

The slight graze of the velvet against his skin reminded him of the way your skin felt against his, the sunlight that glowed atop his honey skin beautifully reminded him of the warmth your love provided for him, oh how he adored you.

And there was jaeyun, finally walking towards his door with a pep in his step, his chest feeling ridiculously lighter while the blood rushed to his face at the thought of you in front of his eyes.

His shaky fingers wrapped around the handle before pushing the large piece of wood, layla instantly greeting him at the door with a welcoming woof of her own, making him smile widely.

“Hello my princess,” he spoke with a soft voice, kneeling down to pet her after closing the door behind him, all worrisome thoughts disappearing from his brain the second her soft fur nuzzled against his palms, he chuckled at all of her licks against his cheeks, turning his head as he giggled and unknowingly seeing your missing shoes on the floor.

Confusion wrapped around his head as a weird, unnerving emotion settled into his stomach, he quickly looked around the living room for any sight of you only to be left further confused since you hadn’t told him about leaving the house today.

“Is she not home?” He questioned layla, his glossy eyes returning to the puppy who visibly lost all of her enthusiasm, quieting down and only licking at his palm in hopes of bringing some sort of comfort to her owner the longer he desperately searched for any sign of you.

“It’s alright,” he walked towards the living room, a sudden wave of dizziness crawling its way to his conscious, he involuntarily closed his eyes at the unexpected pain while his feet quickly led him towards the couch with a worried layla trailing behind him, “she’ll come back.” He whispered, comforting himself while his hands reached to hold onto his head.

And before he could realise, he laid onto the soft fabric of his couch as a wave of sleep took over him while his consciousness drifted. Unbeknownst to him, that would’ve been the last time he would remember you.

「 i don’t wanna tip toe but i don’t wanna hide. 」

The doctor’s hands paced around his instruments panically, your soft sniffles ringing in both his and the nurse’s ears as their heart broke for the nth time that day at the sight of the memory on the screen of their computer, the memory that held an immense amount of pain as the only thing you could focus on in that moment was the view of jaeyun sitting down next to a random girl, his arm wrapped around her shoulders while she turned her head to the side to quickly peck his jaw.

“Is that not.. jake?” Your friend asked from besides you, her eyes widening at the sight of the guy who captured your heart huddled next to an unknown girl by a cafe’s window, the view inevitably catching your gaze too as your brain almost shut down at that moment.

“It is.” You whispered in confirmation, the cobbled stone beneath your feet glued you atop of it while your world slowed down, just like your first encounter— you felt everything around you slowly dissolve till your sole focus was on jaeyun with a random woman.

You friend thankfully picked up your irregular breathing, and she was sure if she had listened close enough she would’ve also been able to hear the sound of your heart shattering into countless pieces while your face was an open window to your emotions.

The feeling of your stomach sinking completely brought you back into reality, the situation was laughable really, just a few weeks ago he seemed too shy to even hold your hand yet here he was now with his arm around another woman.

He might’ve not been able to hold eye contact with you just a few weeks ago, but right now he was able to laugh at the top of his lungs at what looked like a joke the woman said.

“Let’s go.” Your friend sternly announced, holding your hand the second she noticed your eyes swelling up with tears and quickly pulled you to walk into a different alleyway while jaeyun slowly disappeared in the background, leaving the random woman to sit alone in your memory before you quickly tumbled into another one.

Your vision began to slowly clear, another memory opening up ahead of you as you felt yourself getting lost in your emotions regarding this whole procedure.

The aroma of the coffee was pungent in the living room, wafting through the air accompanied by the sweet scent of cinnamon, Layla’s sweet coos and quiet noises of approval and support kept you company and sane after witnessing the man your heart thrummed for wrapped up in the arms of another woman.

Due to the unending conflict and doubts eating away at your mind, resulting in a very upset you and a worried Layla to walk around the house to distract yourself, and the perfect distraction did you find when your feet dragged you into the kitchen.

“I guess it’s just me and you.” Expressing yourself to Layla had always been something that came very easily to you, she was your closest friend at the moment after all. Always by your side to comfort you whether it was by cuddling you with your tears landing like rain drops on her soft fur till you fell asleep or by urging you to play with her and get your mind off her dad.

And right as you were about to move the few pastries from the tray onto the plate on the counter, you and Layla’s ears picked up the familiar and dreadful sound of the door being opened, announcing Jake’s arrival with the loud creak of the wood once he pushed it forward.

As expected, the air that carried the dizzying scent of your pastry was suddenly filled with tension. As if each golden particle of the sweets that travelled through the air while carrying your love transformed into a harsh droplet of ice, the atmosphere further thickening uncomfortably when the boy walked inside of the kitchen to the sight of you in front of the counter with your puppy nuzzling to your leg.

“That smells amazing..” he muttered, feeling shy and small when faced with your stiff back, and he knew he deserved the treatment that you had for him, he knew that you had seen him with someone else. Yet he didn’t have the heart to even think about bringing up that conversation, deciding by his own that stuffing the confrontation into a small box and pushing it far away to a corner in his mind was for the best now.

“Thank you.” Your response was curt, almost monotone with the way you tried your best to not have whatever conversation between you two last longer, his presence alone was suffocating enough for you, you didn’t have the heart to face him.

And jaeyun of course noticed all of this, he noticed the way your back was still faced towards him. A clear and painfully obvious contrast from the way you used to greet him with a loving hug and sometimes even a sweet, shy kiss to his cheek if you were really in the mood for it. The memories of those adoring welcomes will always eat away at his conscience, a constant reminder of what he lost.

But was jaeyun going to ask you to talk with him so both of you could finally address the invisible tornado of unspoken emotions in the room? Of course no.

“I was wondering if you…” he trailed off, voice quiet and almost hesitant in approaching you, and his doubts began to gnaw at his heart when your shoulders tensed further, his anxiety made his tone even more jittery when he continued “want to spend some time with me..?” The final syllable was a mere whisper.

Jaeyun felt the distance between you both panicking, he’s never felt you so far away and unreachable for him even though he knew the reason but his fear of rejection and possible failure was overpowering his logical idea of actually hearing your side and confessing his own thoughts, deciding alone for both of you that the best approach to this situation was not acknowledging it in the first place.

“It snowed yesterday, you know.” He pushed his coldly sweaty hands into the pocket of his sweatpants, he could unwillingly hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his frame was apprehensive as he kept switching his weight from one foot to another while awaiting for your answer, fearful from you declining his offer before he even finished off, “so.. wanna make snow angels?”

He let himself loose, letting go from all of his previous uncertainty and revealing a sweet smile when you finally turned around to face him, a ghost of a grin on your features that never failed to set his chest on fire and make his mind reel, a simple “okay.” had jaeyun was over the moon.

Even if Jaeyun was undeserving of your acceptance to his offer, even if this whole action will have a returning moment that will bite you both deeply but in that specific second the need to be wrapped in each other’s warmth surpassed any other feeling you both could have thought of.

And after minutes of being avoidant, hours of steering away from the unavowed storm of words that needed to be exchanged between your two souls to hopefully ignite some sort of hope for your love, after a day full of your eternal bliss in ignorance where you two played into the parts of loving partners that you had formed in your head that was far, way too far from your reality.

You found yourself tangled beneath the satin sheets, clad in your love’s shirt while he laid on his side to face you, every element surrounding you in this current atmosphere was a very clear display of love, of intimacy and devotion that circled the two of you.

With every intrusive thought of just how many times he’s been in this exact position with another woman that you pushed into the back of your head, your grip on his fingers tightened, it was almost driving you insane. The uncertainty and insecurity in your placement in his life was so evident for jaeyun in your actions, and it made his heart ache.

Further proving that he’s not the one for you, because of his undying need to comfort you and whisper his love for you in your ears to wash away all the bad voices in your head that were pushing you to believe that you were the complete opposite of what he saw.

Someone who deserved the utmost love the entire universe could be able to forge and give.

And out of nowhere, the forbidden three words craved their way onto his tongue, jaeyun’s heart leaped into his throat with the suddenly controlling urge to declare his love for you, his love that bursted inside of every vein of his and made his heart thunder between his ribs.

“I..” he unconsciously started, his tone a mere whisper that made your eyes widen, your fingers froze around him making him realise his own words, breath knocked out from his lungs at his own voice that was wavering. So full of emotion, carrying each and every ounce of combined fear and love that he held for you, there was no going back now, he thought.

“I lov—“ and his words were lost in the air, jaeyun was abruptly pulled away once again, vanishing from the other side of the bed and leaving no trace behind him, you sat up in shock at his unexpected disappearance, your chest rising and falling rapidly when he evanesced wholly.

The confusion only settled in a few moments later, why were you sitting on bed and searching for someone? And what was with the sinking and dreadful feeling in your stomach?

Before you could dwell in your turmoil further, a different scene of your memories started to play ahead, it was the day after.

「 and no matter how easy things could be if i did. 」

The scent of the blooming flowers of spring around the cafe distracted you from your friend’s disappointed gaze, her movements with the spoon that mixed the coffee with the cream halted before she cleared her throat, successfully garnering your attention and allowing you to see her dissatisfaction with your situation in only her eyes.

“How muc—“ “listen.” You cut her off, aware of the way that she was about to give you advice for the umpteenth time, to convince and coax you to leave, you felt used to it at this point. Her meaningful words failed to penetrate the wall you had built around yourself regarding anything that was related to jaeyun.

Her hope diminished further when she saw your tired eyes still overflowing with love, the neglect and exhaustion evident in your features, the lack of attention and reciprocation of love from jaeyun was crystal clear to your friend, she absolutely hated seeing you like this.

But she knew that Jaeyun had you wrapped around his finger, your heart drummed for him in a symphony created for only him. She knew that if your love was an ocean then you had drowned a long time ago.

The similarities between you two was almost frustrating for her, as if you both were created from the same soul blowed into two different bodies, the love you held for each other heavy, intense and impactful yet you both cowered when faced with the mere possibilities of confession and rejection, far too afraid to lose one another and unaware of the fact that you both were slipping from between the other’s fingers.

“I know.” You whispered, voice barely audible beneath the chatter of everyone around you in the cafe, your heavy lidded eyes stayed on the cheesecake your friend convinced you to order as you felt no appetite, your stomach finding more comfort with the feeling of ache and longing than anything else.

“But I can’t do anything.” Your words broke towards the end, lowering your head in desperate attempt to hide away your glossy eyes from your friend that felt her heart shatter at your frail and weak frame, “I can’t force myself to not love him.” And before you broke down further, your friend’s arms wrapped around you and pulled you into her comfort.

And the feeling of her love and whispers calming you down and engulfing you settled a short moment of peace into your chest before your sight shifted into another memory.

The reminder of why you were here in the first place rang in your head when you finally entered the most dreaded one.

You didn’t want all of your happy memories to fill your being with sorrow, you didn’t want to grieve over a person who you saw everyday, he lived his life before your very own eyes, his every breath that called out to another girl, confessed his love to another woman whom you wished and hoped would become you one day matched with your every breath that called out to him.

Every day and every night your lips refused to not hold hope for his response, till the syllables of his own name tasted foreign on your tongue. they tasted bitter to you, not the familiar sweetness you felt when you had called out to him in the first few months of his delightful presence in your life.

The lightness you felt in you had turned into the constriction of your chest on you, the heavy weight atop your ribs felt as if they were pushing against your heart, punishing it for being so reckless and careless to fall in love with the only man you weren’t meant to be with.

Now each beat of your heart that you were convinced thundered for him, felt like hell breaking loose in between your veins, the burst of ecstasy and excitement had all dulled down to aches of anguish and despair.

And before you knew it, the rush of joy that ascended throughout your body had transformed to absolute misery.

Here you were again, in another painful memory. The mattress sank softly at your weight when you gathered the courage to face your love and your fear, though you weren’t quite sure when those two interlinked.

You knew love was never supposed to be fearful, the unblemished love your heart had held for the boy who had his back turned towards you on the bed was not supposed to frighten your mind with dread of the outcome of tonight.

Jaeyun was on the other side of the bed, huddled beneath the blanket as if using the fabric to protect himself from his surroundings, hiding away from the reality and the truth that awaited him with impatience, “jake..” you whispered, voice low as you tested the waters and longed for any sort of reaction from him.

Yet he remained stoic atop the sheets.

From your perspective, jaeyun appeared so close yet so far away and out of your reach, as the days passed by he pulled further from your grasp, backing away from the same hold that once brought comfort to his distraught conscience, as if the graze of your fingertips burned him.

And before you were able to realise it jaeyun was too far away, standing a large distance far from the circle that contained your warmth, where you stayed. Both of your beings were suddenly standing in a parallel line with no signs of interlacing in a messy circle once again.

You weren’t exactly sure when both of your hearts had gotten intertwined so awfully to one another, a tangled web forming between your ribs. Yet it seemed that whatever force connected the two appeared defenceless and weak when faced against the same force that was rapidly pushing your bodies and minds away from each other.

It appeared like the love that poured in every web and vein wasn’t enough to pull your soul against his own.

“We should talk.. we need to.” you breathed out, tone heavy as if you knew he was going to be quick to shut you out once again, but you weren’t sure if you were going to walk away for a safe amount of time before returning to him again this time.

Just how many times have you lived through this exact scenario? And how many times were you willing to do so?

“There’s nothing to talk about.” he replied through gritted teeth, closing his eyes once he felt the familiar burn around his iris, and there it was. the same answer you had memorised yet so desperately tried to forget, it left a bittersweet feeling to your moment, you were expecting it and the melancholy of hearing it again settled into your emotions.

Instinctively, you turned your head towards him. Your eyes tracing every tense muscle beneath his shirt, the rigidness of his shoulders as he appeared uncomfortable in his own room and god was the thought a punch to your gut when the possibility of your presence making him uneasy crawled its way into your brain.

And the guilt returned to your system immediately, “i’m sorry.” you spoke, words dragged from your strained and tightened throat as you desperately wanted to sprint into the bathroom before a sob fell from your lips. You felt pathetic, really. His coldness and curt replies never affected you as much as this one, maybe it was because you knew this was going to be your last attempt.

With your eyes unfocused on your surroundings, your feet pushed the door of the bathroom behind you before you leaned onto the wall for strength. And unbeknownst to you, jaeyun finally let out a shaky breath fall from between his bruised and bitten lips, allowing all the tears to spill past his skin, the same skin you so lovingly kissed just a few months ago, and now the mere thought of your lips against him was shredding his own emotions apart.

Jaeyun knew that with every harsh word he spoke, he was also single-handedly ripping apart every web between your hearts.

The pale blue moonlight illuminated the room, landing directly on the empty spot in the middle of the bed, as if asking for one of your tense bodies to move towards one another, yet both of you remained with your backs against eachother. Jaeyun was slowly counting the seconds, he knew the exact amount of minutes it took you to fall asleep by now as he had repeated the same routine every night, except this time your breathing was taking longer to deepen than it was supposed to.

That was until he heard a quiet sniffle ring in his ears.

He froze atop the cold sheets, the sound echoing in his mind as if it was tormenting him, the blame and guilt instantly rooting themselves deep in his stomach and extending their branches far in his body, planting themselves fully in his lungs till the point he couldn’t breathe, his breaths turning shallow the more sniffles and quiet cries of heartbreak reached his ears.

The sweat around his palms turned icy, his own body betraying him as he remained paralysed beneath the blanket, his heart screamed at him to go, to move for good for once, fingers itching to turn around and wrap your shaky figure in his hold, to protect you from the demons that were tormenting you both endlessly, yet he couldn’t move.

The louder his heart drummed in his chest to move, the sterner his mind reminded him of how much he deserved this, after all those months of neglect who did he think he was to suddenly switch and turn back towards you? After all those steps he took away from you, how dare he even think of walking back on the same footsteps?

And so he stayed. His body stoic in fear of moving an inch.

He breathed out his first deep breath when he realised that you stopped, when you finally fell asleep and he was able to move and breathe again. Jaeyun wasted no time in getting up from his side of the bed, his feet felt cold against the floor, each step he took towards your side felt heavy on his heart, countless pangs of guilt arrowing themselves directly across his chest at the sight of your sleeping frame hugging the blanket close to you.

The closer the walked towards you, the more he felt the torturous sting in his eyes, he gulped the moment his rigid frame made contact with your blanket, sitting down right next to your small frame. And as he took in the features of your face that he so dearly loved he felt his soul hurting further.

He noticed all the glimmering streaks of tears that aligned your skin, your wet eyelashes that carried and held onto smaller droplets of your pain, the soft redness tainting the tip of your nose matching your cheeks, the longer he stared at you the worse his hands ached to hold you against him.

The comfort of your aura around him had stayed the same, your mere existence around him felt tenderly welcoming to him. The presence that felt like the manifestation of a hug from the whole universe, the warmth that was carefully picked from every star in the galaxy was all provided to him by the heavens in the form of you.

Yet his presence had changed. It had matched yours in the beginning, the presence that was a combination of all galactic bodies, the mere light of his aura challenged the light of the sun and all the stars combined, a glow so bright that rivalled the brilliance of every heavenly titan, he was otherworldly. he was your sunshine.

And now the warmth of the sun had dulled, dissolved into the shell of what he used to be, you thought that maybe each light had its own darkness since even the moon had its own dark side that it was ashamed of turning to show.

His fingertips landed against your soft skin, the disappearance of the coldness from his body the moment it made contact with yours made him melt in front of your sleeping form, and he allowed himself for once to sob all of his pain out.

“I’m sorry..” he whispered, voice breaking as he attempted to convey his emotions once they intensified by the seconds, his misery streaming down his face, “I’m so sorry..” he repeated, the heaviness in his heart worsening at the sight of his tears dripping down onto your blanket, his pain surrounding you once again.

“I wish—“ he gasped for breath, his insides shattering apart the longer he spent next to your frame, “I wish you hated me, so much.” He finally breathed out, his heart stinging with each word, sight blurring further as more tears fell past his cheeks.

“You don’t deserve me, my love.” Jaeyun smiled sadly at your sleeping form, the thought of you receiving the same kind and brave love that you felt for him brought a short-lived happiness to him, he knew he was incapable of reciprocating the adoration that filled you whole because of him.

Jaeyun was scared the second he realised that you had handed your heart over to his hands, he knew his bravery wouldn’t hold enough power to clench his fingertips around your fragile heart, resulting in the delicate and weak item to slip out of his fingers and shatter like countless pieces of glass on the floor.

How he wished he had the courage to love you the same way you loved him, to adore you the same way you adored him, to run back into your warm circle and keep you hidden and protected in his embrace till the end of times, yet he was incapable. His fears and doubts eating away at all the potentials that existed in your heart.

“But I don’t want you to not love me either.” He cried quietly, the thought of you receiving the same love you deserved from someone else destroyed him completely, the visualisation of you smiling the same way you do with him to another man had his hands springing upwards from your skin to grip onto his hair, paining himself in hopes of the torturous image dissipating from his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated once again, his eyes stinging at the continuous hurt his body had bottled up and just got the courage to spill, Jaeyun knew he wasn’t brave enough to show and confess his love to you the way you had done for him, and that fact tugged further on his heartstrings.

The rational part of him hoped aimlessly for a day to arrive where you would realise your worth, realise that jaeyun was still being eaten alive with his fear and doubts and guilt all at the same time, his love for you was overflowing yet he hid each and every bit of it so well.

He knew you deserved better, his rational part always tormenting him with his unworthiness and pushing him further away from you, yet his heart— god his heart couldn’t possibly handle the simple thought of you being away from him.

It was his weak side that still clutched you against him so tightly, the side that was fully and wholly controlled by his emotions that were feral for you, the part of him that desperately ignored all warnings and reminders of his logical side.

Deep down, you knew you and jaeyun were never meant to be. The difference between you and him was vast, similar to the difference of the sand and the ocean, the land and the sky, the moon and the sun. Both parts completing each other while repelling one another at the same time.

You two were never meant to intertwine in the first place.

And even if Jaeyun was finally ready to push every pearl and grain of sand into the ocean, to make the sky fall atop the land and to alter the moon and the sun’s planes’ into a permanent eclipse, it was way too late.

For by the time he wakes up, he won’t even be able to remember you.

The metal pieces on your temples glowed green, indicating another opening for a memory for you, a few days after your despair with jaeyun, where he finally collected all the dispersed courage from his head and went out of his way to make it up to you, inevitably wrapping you both further into his unhealthy cycle of messing up and redeeming himself.

Disregarding the fact that both of your hearts can only take so much. After so much heartbreak and neglect to the core of your soul that only held passion and love towards him, it was bound to give up on trying one day. But you were still loving him. And jaeyun ignored all the voices in his head when they began to claim that your unreciprocated love can’t last that long. Because Jaeyun believed in you.

And maybe it was blinded belief, blurred with his own hope that contained to bloom in his chest, his hope to fix and repair himself as soon as possible so he can present himself to you wholly, even if his time was running thin, even if he didn’t believe in himself, he still found comfort in the small amount of optimism that maybe he can bring the version of him that you adored in your to life.

You both knew that you fell in love with a side of him that he was too afraid to share, too doubtful to uncover and give himself and his most vulnerable parts to, and he knew that he had imprinted himself onto your mind, tattooed his presence onto your heart and he could say that the same implied to himself, it was only a matter of time.

But Jaeyun didn’t know that the longer he was taking to mend himself, he was breaking you further. Just how much longer were you supposed to wait for him to walk back and finally engulf you in his arms again? How much longer was he expecting you to wait while he cured himself? How much longer were you supposed to wait for his love? Unmindful of the way that you, yourself needed to heal as well.

Yet here you were, hand laced with jaeyun’s as he pulled you towards the dining room in the house, his excited giggles rang throughout the walls before the sound got trapped in your head and repeated continuously, your legs moved you in front of the table where a small chocolate cake was placed with three candles atop the icing.

“I made t—“ he started off before he felt your puppy’s fur graze his leg and cut his words, “me and layla made this for you.” He corrected himself, you were still facing the glowing cake with your oh so gentle gaze that never failed to make jaeyun sigh lovingly besides you, “happy birthday, my love.” He whispered, each word knitted with his undying devotion for you, and you felt it. Which made you love him further.

“Thank you, Jaeyun.” You replied, the room suddenly blurred from around you as your only focus was back to him again, to jaeyun’s charming smile and twinkling eyes when you finally faced him, the soft golden burn from the candles made him glow beautifully for you, with his closeness to your body and his fingers still intertwined with yours, you felt yourself falling in love with him all over again.

And jaeyun felt the same, your grateful grin as all of your features softened when your gaze met his made his heart melt into a puddle in his chest, the familiar electricity buzzed between both of your frames, the small glimmer of hope became a fired storm that lit and roared more when the two of you only seemed to get further lost in each other’s presence.

With jaeyun’s face inches away from yours, his arms reached to wrap around your waist, swiftly lifting and placing you on the wooden table next to the cake, the surprised gasp that fell past your lips made him chuckle, his hands then lowered to rest on your thighs, “make a wish, sweetheart.” He spoke, you could feel each flutter of his eyelashes against your skin as he held you close to him.

His slow breath that brushed against your collarbones when he pressed his forehead against yours, both of you closing your eyes to drown completely in this moment, dedicating your mind, body and heart in the close and comfortable warmth of one another that your souls craved for so deeply and desperately, the need clawing away at your heart and finally settling once your hand moved onto his chest, settling above his ribs. You almost melted against him when you felt the rapid thumping of his heart beneath your fingertips.

He moved his head into the crook of your neck, a sudden drowsiness creeping through him as he felt so safe and shielded with you so close to him, you didn’t feel as far and cold from him like you usually do, and that thought brought so much peace to his mind for the first time in months.

And so you breathed his scent deeply, surrounding yourself further in him as you made a wish where you weren’t asking for too much, just for jaeyun’s love.

“Blow them out.” He lifted himself away from you, his fingers ghosting against your legs while he smiled encouragingly at you, both of your eyes seemed glossier with the light of the candles casting down on them.

“Do it with me.” You requested with your tone fragile and careful. jaeyun’s widened, his eyes turning into crescents as he looked at you tenderly. He nodded making you turn your head towards the candles, the slight warmth provided by the small fire lead shivers to run down your spine before you both leaned down and blew on the candles together.

And right when you turned back to face jaeyun with a grin, you were left alone next to the chocolate cake, the cold air jabbing at your skin while your eyes uncontrollably sought for the sight of anyone, you could’ve sworn you felt warm hands on your thighs, but there was no one else in the room other than you and layla.

Where did this cake come from? And why were you not able to remember who made this cake?

「 i waited for your love. 」

All at once, the machine glitched. Losing its track on the map of your mind when the lights around your temples glowed scarlet, indicating the loss of the connection, the interlink pausing for a brief second when a sob wrecked through your body when you remembered the memory you were about to erase.

The nurse’s rushed movements to carefully pat your cheeks that were dampened with your tears were useless against your gut wrenching cries, a rush of emotions that raged in your chest before they fell through your eyes, like a dam shattering apart as the waterfalls streamed down your face and separated from your chin to land on your lap, gradually dampening the fabric.

“Please keep t-this one.” You whimpered, each word falling apart as your voice quietened slowly, your hands reaching to clasp around the necklace that graced your chest, the small piece of pine almost penetrating your skin with its sharp edges the tighter you held it when you opened your blurry eyes to the sight of the doctor and the nurse gazing at you warily, the sorrow was shared in the room as their sympathy towards you was clear in the windows of their eyes.

The woman’s warm hands gently held onto your shaking shoulder while you begged and sobbed with the machine glitching to please keep this upcoming memory, you felt helpless. More parts of your love, of your heart being ripped away from you were finally catching up to you and god was the pain absolutely unbearable.

Was this the punishment one had to pay for the innocent act of falling in love with sim jaeyun?

Words and voices became blurred and intangible from around you, the apologies from the nurse and the doctor never fully processing in your mind as the sorrowful memory had started to play ahead of your eyes with no help from the machine.

Your last whispers were to keep this memory, to leave the memory so you can hold onto the final and most precious piece of sim jaeyun that you got to see and experience first hand, the moment where your adoration and devotion towards the boy was solidified, before the pieces returned to glow in thier emerald hue and the device relinked.

Your head ached with the continuous tears flowing down your face when the memory of you and jaeyun sitting next to each other on the couch unfolded, his fingertips ghosted on your skin, dancing around and drawing shapes and words only he knew the meaning behind while he held you close to him, the inexplicable need and desire to hold you near took a hold of him, and you understood it.

You and jaeyun understood one another beyond the boundaries others deemed possible, you understood his soul so well, his soul that was crafted from a language so intricate and delicate and you were fluent in it. And when faced with the opposite situation of him knowing your soul, he flowed in every crack and crevice of your being easily.

his presence had seeped its way throughout all of your walls that you spent day and night building, growing rapidly all over your walls like vines before breaking them all one by one, till he rooted himself in a great spot, deep in your heart.

If possible, he knew your soul better than he knew his own. But the disagreement of your minds overpowered the link between your hearts and unraveled your tangled souls from one another.

And maybe your mastery in his language was the dawn for the demise of your sweet, innocent love. Because you hated that you could tell how fidgety and anxious jaeyun was around you in this current moment.

“Is something wrong?” You finally had the bravery to voice out, worry worsening when you felt his movements freeze. He cleared his throat before sighing, pulling himself slightly away from you to stare into your eyes.

You felt time slowing around you when you saw his glossy gaze, sim Jaeyun looked breathtaking with the amount of emotions that swirled in his eyes, an amount you couldn’t even begin to fathom or comprehend, you felt yourself gradually losing yourself the longer both of you drowned on the other’s presence, the atmosphere then carried a great sense of doom that both of you decided to ignore.

Too scared to face the results of your avoidance.

“I have a gift for you.” Jaeyun breathed out, the weight that he dragged on his shoulders became heavier when he continued his typical routine of ignorance, of running away from the problem in every possible direction even if they led him to the most tragic path.

Nodding to encourage him, you pursed your lips in anticipation, excitement sparking slowly when you finally pushed away every anxious thought of what could be possibly bothering jaeyun, his hands reached towards his pocket where he pulled a box, your eyes widening when— “I’m not proposing!” He quickly blurted out once he caught your shocked expression, “it’s just— a special gift.” He blushed making you tilt your head in confusion, unknowingly deepening the blush on his face.

“Here.” He handed you the white velvety box, your fingers brushed against the fabric one final time before opening the lid and god you’ve never felt so many conflicted emotions all at once.

The intense vehemence and hurricane of feelings swirling around your heart and chest uncoordinatedly lead the device unable to keep up with the contrast between your happiness in the memory and the sheer ache that you were facing in the current time.

Like the tides of an ocean, your regret washed down on you. Intensifying as if the waves were battling with a storm, escalating the worse the strikes of the thunder became with the time. How were you supposed to forget about him?

“Why are you crying?” His voice was weak, lips quivering in panic of you repelling his gift, hating the small pine cone necklace that adorned the box in your hands, “what?” You asked, confusion laced in your voice, you were over the moon why would you be crying?

You fingertips left the soft pine cone pendant to touch your face, flinching when feeling the small tear drop on the pad of your finger, you never cried in this memory.

“Please calm her down, her emotions are disrupting the memory.” You heard the muffled voice of the doctor followed by the panicked and comforting whispers of the nurse in your ear, whispered promises of living in peace and finding happiness barely reached your mind when you were wiping away your happiness yourself right now.

“Let me help you put it on.” Jaeyun proposed, smiling softly when you nodded and turned around after handing him the necklace, Jaeyun chanted words of reassurance in his head in hopes of calming his shaking fingers that burned when they brushed against your skin, clasping the necklace for the first and final time around your chest, he felt happiness and pride blooming in his heart at the satisfaction of having a piece of himself around you at all times.

“Turn around so I can see you, pretty.” He leaned in and whispered into your ear, his smile widening when you chuckled at his words and turned around.

But why was there no one behind when you turned?

Gasping through your tears with the pieces glowing crimson around your temples, you searched through the blurry figures of white coats and stethoscopes for a different one, though unknown to you who exactly you were searching for, your eyes still raced through every corner of the room.

“Please calm down, miss.” The nurse reassured, pushing the device back onto your temples when you still weakly looked around, too exhausted to respond or fight for your belief that someone is supposed to be here for you, “we’re one final memory away.” You heard the doctor talk before breathing a shaky breath in and taking your final trip to your memory lane.

“I’ll return before night, love.” Jaeyun shouted from the door, hoping that you weren’t able to hear his wavering voice when he left you on the only day you asked for him to stay, but after all of your attempts and requests to get him to stay were unsuccessful, you stayed in the room with your puppy as you waited for her father.

And what was supposed to be two hours became three, what became three turned into the evening, and here you were with your back leaning against the door Jaeyun walked out from when it’s past midnight, Layla’s figure quickly found your own crouched one, arms wrapped around your knees to allow the sleeves of your shirt to catch your tears when the thunder struck for the nth time that night, the night that Jaeyun didn’t return.

Your chest felt empty, as if your heart had been ripped and now the cold air passing through the void of where you used to hold a blinding love made goosebumps align like constellations along your skin, you felt hollow.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, baby.” You cried to layla who’s ears only lowered, if it wasn’t for the poor lighting in the hallway you would’ve been able to also see her own glossy and hurt filled eyes at the sight of you, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t make him love me.” You turned your head from her silhouette. Shame, humiliation and heartache overflowing you entirely as you sobbed behind the same door jaeyun was leaning against.

He stood there with his frame freezing from the cold, another night of him not being able to tell the difference between the rain droplets falling from his hair and his own salty tears as he allowed the guilt to eat him up from the inside out, not having the heart to possibly open the door and greet the view of a heartbroken you.

He had seen the sight of your tired eyes too many times, and knowing that he himself was the root of the pain made the heartache devour him whole, so he slid down onto the wet floor beneath him with his back towards the door, chuckling tearfully at his own patheticness.

If only he had the bravery to free fall into the sweet and accepting love that bloomed between the two of you like you had, maybe he would’ve been on the other side of the door to engulf you in his arms and console you.

But who was he kidding, he’s the same guy that couldn’t handle the responsibility of your pure heart and distracted himself with other women, surrounding himself with different fragrances and lipstick prints all when the lady of his heart was always within arm’s reach.

He wished he had moulded himself back into the version of him that you met, the loving and easygoing Jake that gazed at you with stars in his eyes, but the damage had already been done. There was no turning back now.

Especially not when you finally opened your eyes fully to the blinding light in the room, the soft blue light being sighted in your peripheral vision, indicating the completion and the success of the operation.

Elation sparked in your body, gradually burning into a small fire when you couldn’t remember anything.

“How are you feeling, miss?” The nurse asked, a hopeful smile gracing her features while she gazed at a confused you taking in your surroundings as if it was your first time, “weirdly.. light?” The doctor chuckled at your words, “the operation was a success.” He spoke before grinning pridefully at his triumph.

“You did amazing, miss.” The nurse praised as she helped you to stand on your own feet with no heavy weight on your shoulders for the first time in months, discarding the metal pieces before shaking your hands, words of gratitude and wishes for a healthy and happy life were exchanged before you finally walked out of the door belonging to the office, taking your first strives with no burden or guilt surrounding you as if you were floating.

Oblivious of the knowledge that Jaeyun woke up with a headache on the other side of the city, the back of his head pounding with him barely able to register Layla’s worried coos, unable to fully open his eyes and lifting his hand to rub the sleep away before— wait was he crying?

The young boy stared at his hand that shined with his tears in confusion, why was he crying? He tried to remember if he had seen a nightmare, a dream, anything— only to reach no answer.

“Hey pretty, don’t worry about me it was probably a dream.” He decided on comforting his puppy that only cooed sadly, his hand reaching forward to pet her fur while the other reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone when it brushed against a foreign object.

Jaeyun’s eyebrows furrowed when he pulled out a small box from his pocket, the item resembling a weirdly intimate small box, he opened it to reveal a beautiful ring— a promise ring. embroidered with a bunch of small diamonds around the silver lining, his confusion deepening when he had absolutely no clue of who this ring could possibly belong to.

He searched the inside for any sort of engraving to no avail, “who was this for..?” He whispered to layla who deflated further into the floor, sadness overflowing from her eyes at the defeat and loss of her friend.

And at the end, you and jaeyun’s tragic love story became encapsulated into a small forgotten star in the vast, wide and endless sky.

Already opening new opportunities and doors for different stories to be woven into your lives, you finally met up with the guy your friend had set you up with, and you knew the decision of trusting her taste was successful when a tall, doe eyed guy showed up to your table.

“Hello, my name is heeseung.” He smiled sweetly, his warm aura welcoming and pulling you in completely, unknown to you that this was just the beginning of your story with the love of your life, both of you getting lost in tangled conversations filled with questions and your interests, unaware of the different couple passing outside of the window.

“Wait so jungwon scored right?” Jake laughed, engrossed in the story of how his best friend almost ended up in the hospital, “after making riki trip, yes.” The girl besides him chuckled when Jake threw his head back in laughter, without noticing how his puppy stood outside of a cafe window, layla was no longer following him and instead she seemed to gaze intensely into the window.

Her tail swishing in excitement and joy when she spotted your figure sitting on one of the chairs, accompanied by a man that wasn’t afraid to wrap his arm around your shoulder while you laughed at his words.

Both you and Jake blind to the sight of the conflicted puppy who’s head only swished on both of your distant figures with two different people around you now before walking away with a heavy heart in jaeyun’s direction.

Maybe you and Jaeyun were never meant to successfully intertwine.

— fin

a,note. this feels so weird to share now because this is my first ever heavy angst filled work that’s also very emotionally connected to me in a way, first of all thank you ariana for releasing album of the year and inspiring me to write this, if you haven’t listened to eternal sunshine please so as soon as possible.

second i’d like to share how somewhat uncomfortable it is for me to share this as i had to take a lot of breaks throughout writing it (i’m an emotional b word pls) and also there were alot of moments that were inspired by my closest friendships / emotional experiences so i really feel like im sharing some sort of part of myself with this as well, but either way i hope u enjoyed reading this !! i love u layla and i’m sorry :(

[eastleighsblog]

Please reblog

Hello everyone I know this isn’t my usual post but something tragic has recently happened and I would like to ask for your support and prayers in the matter

I won’t go into much details cause the link will speak for itself and other things are a bit more private but anything you donate will help and I hope you keep us in your prayers

If you need proof for legitimacy I will be more than willing to provide cause I know a lot of these types of posts are fake but this is one hundred percent legitimate

[eastleighsblog]

⚠️Not a texting post but pls read⚠️

PLEASE SPREAD THIS AND IF U CAN CONTACT HYBE PLS DO

I'm sorry for tagging but this is important: @imagine-a-life-like-this @banggyu0308 @boydepartment @i520u @luvistqrzzz

[eastleighsblog]

What do you think I should include in Pt.2?

Sorry I didn't see this until now, I don't know... But I'll start thinking and give you some ideas

[eastleighsblog]

Multiplayer game

Here is chapter two

Warnings: Smut, public canoodling, oral (female receiving), miniscule hand kink, strength kink, minor oral fixation, fingering, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms, cum shots, unprotected sex, creampies, pervy skz, cum eating, picture/video recording, exhibitionism, under-negotiated kink, light spanks, begging, Daddy kinks, singular use of Sir, hair pulling, degradation and praise

The morning after sleeping with Han and Minho brought waves of panic. Embarrassment and worry welled up in your chest as you carefully climbed out from between them. Minho stirred, and you knew that he saw you as you put your clothes back on and scurried into the bathroom to make yourself look presentable.

You knew that facing the boys would bring questions of where the three of you went, and for all you knew the other boys had heard you the night before. You tried desperately not to panic and dart out the door. It wasn't like you'd done anything wrong, right? Lots of people had sex with their friends...You groaned.

But your return wasn't anything like you'd expected. The boys all looked at you when you walked into the living room, and for a moment you felt small, but there was nothing but adoration in the way that they looked at you. Jisung looked like he'd come in straight out of bed, still shirtless in just a pair of shorts and his hair sticking up every which way.

He motioned for you to come sit down, announcing proudly that Felix was making breakfast and you had some time to relax. You were greeted by several smiles and a few good mornings, but nobody paid you any mind otherwise. That was enough to ease your nerves as you settled in beside Jisung, curling into his side as you checked through your morning notifications on your phone.

Your friendship with the boys stayed unaffected, and you practically lived at the dorms even when they weren't around much. You studied in their beds and showered in their bathroom and slept curled into their sides. And when they wanted to go out and watch movies or go to the arcade, it only took a little sweet talking to coax you out with them.

Which was why you were hanging out at the mall with them, watching Felix and Hyunjin giggle and scream in the arcade over DDR. Chan pressed close to you from behind, his arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you into his firm chest. You relaxed into it, ignoring the way your heart tried to thunder in your chest. He smelled nice, and it made your eyes close as you breathed him in. He nosed along your jaw, and you shivered in his arms.

"Are you having fun, sweetheart?" He asked, breath ghosting over your skin warm and closer than you would expect from him in public. You hummed, your fingers coming to trace against his hands.

"Yeah, I'm having fun. I like being around you guys." You agreed quietly, turning to look at him. He smirked, and you looked quickly back to the scene in front of you.

"I bet I know how we could have more fun." His voice was lower now, barely a rumble as he kissed at your neck, flicking his tongue over your pulse point. Your knees threatened to give out, and your stomach flipped at the touch. They'd been like this for a couple weeks now, flirty and touchy and even more clingy than they had been before. Not that you had any sort of problem with it, but you found yourself flustered more often than not.

"Channie," You murmured, half a complaint at his shameless touch, and half a plea for him to stay close. He nipped at the skin, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough that you squeaked. He giggled then, squeezing your waist before stepping away from you.

"I'm gonna go find the others. Meet at the food court?" He asked, already starting to leave. You sighed, patting your cheeks to try and calm down the nerves running through you.

The mall trip stayed the same, being passed around the boys' arms, having them feed you french fries and pamper you like always. When you got home, everyone was going their separate ways, but you found yourself with Felix sprawled in your lap watching something on his phone while you watched a documentary for one of your classes.

You were so wrapped up in taking your notes that you barely noticed him squirming until he was pressing kisses to your bare thighs, ghosting your skirt upwards. You released a soft sigh, tangling your fingers into his hair to draw his attention. He looked up through his lashes, and you tried to stay calm and collected despite the way you wanted to squirm.

"Can I help you with something?" You asked him quietly. He shook his head, his hand still tracing circles against the inside of your thighs. He shook his head gently, dipping his head to pepper kisses along your thighs again. Your stomach twisted and swirled at the touch, growing warm.

"Your skin is soft." He mumbled, wiggling lower so he could settle his upper body between your legs. It wasn't that his mouth didn't feel good, the way he was swirling his tongue against your skin and dragging his teeth over it until you whined. You looked around. You were still sitting out in the living room, and anyone could walk in at any time.

"Lix," You huffed, pushing his head up. He didn't resist too hard, but the way he looked at you with those big brown eyes made heat surge through you. "Anyone could walk in. What if the boys get the wrong idea?"

He mulled the question over in his head, a sickeningly sweet grin rising onto his lips.

"Is it the wrong idea?" He asked, lowering his head back down so he could nip at the inside of your thigh. You hissed out a half-whine, your face growing warm at his blatant touch.

"I need water," You blurted out, less than smoothly you'd admit. But you were growing more and more flustered at the touch, and your body was thrumming too warm, your clothes feeling too heavy against your skin. "Sorry,"

You got up, and Felix didn't follow you, just going back to whatever was on his phone. You smoothed your skirt over your thighs and scurried into the kitchen, getting yourself a bottle of water and taking a few moments to breathe.

"Everything alright?" Chan asked, looking up from where he was...actually you weren't sure exactly what he was doing, but he looked concerned as he leaned against the counter. You turned to face him, your lips curving into a smile. You nodded, sinking into his arms when he opened them for you.

"Yeah. I'm okay." You turned, pressing your cheek to the firm planes of his chest to peek at the doorway. "Do you think Felix has been acting strange lately? Has he said anything about me?"

Chan chuckled, and the sound washed over you like warm water, relaxing the tension in your muscles. Your fingers curled into the dark hoodie he was wearing. His fingers twirled a lock of your hair, brushing it back.

"Felix talks about you all the time, that's nothing new." He pointed out. You hummed curiously. "He likes you a lot. We all do, you're our favorite girl."

You whined, nuzzling into his chest. The boys always called you that. Their girl. Their favorite girl. You had always noticed the way they bristled when anyone outside of their little circles would pay you any attention. It was nice, actually. Belonging somewhere.

"I know. You're my boys. But he's just been...touchy lately. More than usual, I mean."

Chan smiled, his hands moving from your hair to skate down your arms, then shifting to grip at your waist, the firm touch making your eyes flutter shut for a moment and another wave of warmth swirling in your stomach.

"He's just taking care of you. You can ask him to stop if you want. But your body deserves to be touched. Feels good, doesn't it?" He asked, warm hands nudging beneath the fabric of your top, grazing against the bare skin of your waist. "We can take such good care of your body, just gotta let us. You'll let us do that, right? Our sweet girl."

You nearly melted against him as his hands skimmed higher, your shirt lifting to expose an indecent amount of your midriff, his thumbs skating across the thin fabric of your bra. He watched the way you shivered, the way your nipples hardened enough to be felt through the fabric.

Then his hands were leaving your skin, and your eyes flew open, wide and lost as they scanned his face. He laughed quietly, his hands coming instead to cup your cheeks. You smiled then, happy to have his gentle touch back.

"East," He said, his thumb coming to trace over your bottom lip. Your lips parted ever so slightly, hyper-focused on the weight of his finger against your mouth. "I'm gonna kiss you now,"

Even after saying it, the lean was slow, and he gave you every opportunity to pull away. You didn't, half frozen in place with nerves but mostly desperate for the closeness. When his lips did meet yours, it was slow and sweet, just a steady, smooth press of lips to your own. It was unfamiliar, and you tried to follow the motion, albeit a bit clumsily.

When he pulled away from your lips, your cheeks were a sweet shade of pink, and you licked your lips, avoiding his eye. He refused to let that slide, tipping your chin up to look at him.

"Did Minho kiss you like that?" He asked, caressing your cheek. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your cheeks warming under his touch. He couldn't know about what you had done with your friends, it had been weeks and nobody had mentioned it. Or maybe you'd talked yourself into it to hide from the consequences. You shook your head, eyebrows drawing together in worry that you hoped would come across as confusion, shaking your head. "Did Hannie? Did he take care of you like I will?"

"Channie," You whined, the sound slipping out before you fully processed it. He smiled, nosing along your jaw.

"What is it baby girl?" He pulled you closer, turning the two of you so that you were pressed against the ridge of the counter top he'd been leaning on. You sighed out a breathy sound, your head tipping back. He chuckled, lifting you easily onto the counter. The way he situated himself between your legs made your skirt ride up higher on your thighs.

“That was my first kiss.” You whispered out, like the secret would shatter whatever heat was building between the two of you. Chan seemed taken aback, his lips pressing into a line as he tried to figure out how to respond. “I mean I’ve been kissed, but not like that, not real ones, you know?”

The worry just continued to build at his silence, until his eyes locked on yours. You could practically see the way they burned with want, and then he was tipping your chin up, dipping just as slowly to press his lips to yours again.

You kissed him back this time, a little more confident but still following his lead, teasing your tongue past his lips to meet his. The taste of him was intoxicating, and the smell of his cologne had you all wrapped up. You nearly moaned into his mouth. You were so deep into the kiss with him that you nearly jumped out of your skin when someone else's hand brushed yours on his waist.

You pulled away, blinking a few times to clear your mind. Felix was wrapped around him, his fingers tangling with yours where they were pressed against Chan, and his mouth tracing kisses over the leader's neck.

"Don't stop on my behalf." Felix teased lightly, pressing himself shamelessly against Chan's back. "I was enjoying the show."

"How about we take this show somewhere more private, baby? Let us show you how good we can make you feel too. It's our turn, don't you think?" Chan asked. The look in his eye was sincere, the space he put between the two of you was him giving you a chance to back out of this, to turn him down and act like nothing happened. Felix was looking at you too, his hands still brushing against yours, and it made you feel like you were going to burst into flames. You nodded.

The transfer to one of their bedrooms was quick, your feet being swept out from under you as soon as you were on the ground, and only being put back down when the door was firmly closed and locked behind them. They motioned for you to climb onto the bed, Felix tugging off the hoodie he'd been wearing. You did as you were told, settling among the blankets that would surely feel like molten lava under you soon.

Felix was the first to join you, crawling up beside you and turning your face to him. The closeness gave you an opportunity to see every one of his freckles, and the specks of color in his eyes. His eyes that were looking over you as if you were the most delicious snack he'd ever seen. He moved slowly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before they were meeting yours. His were softer than Chan's, moving a little slower, like your mouths were doing some elaborate, provocative dance together.

Chan crawled up from the end of the bed, nudging your legs apart so he could lay his upper body down between them. His upper body, which was miraculously bare. When had he stripped down to just his jeans and boxers? His skin was warm against yours, firm muscle pressing into the softness of your thighs as he pushed your shirt up just a little. He kissed against your stomach, light fluttering presses of his lips as Felix tasted your tongue and hummed into your mouth.

You whined, the sound getting trapped between you and the blonde as Felix nipped ever so lightly at the skin just above your hip, his fingers tucking under the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down lightly. Having both of them treating you like you were made of porcelain, something to cherish and care for with gentle touches, had your head spinning and your heart racing out of your chest.

"Can I take this off?" Chan asked you, fingering the fabric of your skirt. Felix pulled away from your lips, his hand snaking under your shirt to trace the edge of your bra. You nodded, looking at Chan with wide, nervous eyes. He smiled, kissing the spot above your waistband again. "Good girl, thank you."

He tugged the skirt down, and you let him, though your legs tried to squeeze shut with the newfound vulnerability. Chan didn't let them, his large hands skating up your legs and prying them apart with an ease that had a new rush of wetness settling in your core.

He watched you, watched the way your legs twitched under his touch and that your eyes flicked back and forth between his hands and Felix's lips that you so desperately wanted to feel on you again.

"You were such a good girl for the other boys, weren't you? Making them feel so good." Felix purred, pushing your shirt up until you began tugging it off yourself. He laughed sweetly at the way you wiggled your clothes off. You were eager, though it was obvious that you were shy too. "Looks like you wanna be good for us too, huh pretty thing?"

You nodded slowly, your cheeks warm and your fingers starting to fidget with the hem of your panties. You felt so exposed, especially with both men more than half clothed and you nearly naked beneath them.

"We're gonna take such good care of you. And you just have to tell us if you wanna stop and we will, okay baby girl?" Chan asked you. You tried to nod again, but Felix tipped your chin up, leaning close to your ear.

"Nuh uh, he likes when you use your words. Can you say 'yes, daddy'? Can you say that for Channie?" He purred. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt your pussy leak even more at the words. You'd never understood the appeal before, but now it had your body searing.

"Yes, daddy, I understand," You said, voice barely a whisper, but you noticed the way that Chan's breath caught in his throat. You preened at being the one to get a reaction this time instead of it being the other way around. Pride bloomed in your chest, the familiar sense of wanting to do better, to make them proud of you too.

"That's daddy's good girl." He purred, dipping down to press a kiss to your inner thigh, than another a little higher. Up, and up until his lips were caressing the apex where your thigh met your crotch, so desperately close to where you wanted him. And Felix watched, his fingers trailing through your curls and tugging ever so lightly, listening to the way you hummed at the feeling.

It was slow, every touch moving like the waves on the beach, steady and smooth and crashing over you but not quite enough to knock you down.

"More," You huffed out, and Felix smiled. He had been waiting for you to make a request like that, finally moving to kiss over your stomach, nipping and sucking and licking at your skin. He held your waist gently, keeping you from squirming out of his touch with too much ease. You tipped your head back, eyes closed, basking in the warmth of their attention. Their touch was everywhere except where you wanted them most, where the heat was beginning to burn too hot to handle.

Felix unclasped your bra, drawing the straps off your arms and tossing it aside. He flicked his tongue against one of your nipples, watching it harden, then teased his fingertips over the other until it did the same. You purred beneath him, arching towards his touch. The warmth of his mouth was enough to satiate you even just for a moment. A moment which was long enough for Chan to tug your panties down your legs. And just like that, you were bared beneath them.

"Look how fucking pretty you are for us. So perfect and eager. Can't wait to watch you squirm for us." Chan said. His voice had dropped an octave in the few moments he'd been absolutely worshiping your lower body, and it sent sparks through you. You whined, spreading your legs wider in a silent invitation for him to give you more attention.

"This what you want, baby?" He asked, his thumb tracing against your clit. It was a feather light touch, and your hips bucked towards it as you released a sharp hiss. You nodded, turning to bury your face in the pillow and hide the flush that was creeping into your face at your involuntary reaction.

He didn't make you use your words this time, swirling concentrated circles against the bundle of nerves and humming at the way your thighs tensed. Felix cooed sweetly, still nipping and sucking at your nipples to hear the way you whined beneath his tongue.

The faster Chan rubbed at your clit, the tighter the coil in your stomach grew, and your hips rocked into his touch desperately. You murmured out a string of pleas, begging for just a little more and bringing an arm up to cover your flushed face. Felix caught your wrist, dragging it away from your face and leaving you splayed open. He was watching you now, the way your eyebrows creased and your tongue would constantly flick out to brush over your bottom lip.

"She's gonna cum, hyung," He said after a moment of evaluation. You whimpered. Something about the way they were talking about you like you weren't there had you even more worked up. Chan hummed, his lips curling into an affectionate smile.

"Are you close, pretty girl?" He asked. You nodded frantically, and as soon as you did, his touch was gone. You pouted, eyes going wide and your hips wiggling as if it would get you right back where you wanted to be, right on the brink of orgasm.

"Daddy, please," You begged, hoping that playing into his obvious kink would win you some favor. Felix giggled, and you squirmed. Or maybe not.

"Please what, baby girl? Don't you trust me?" Chan teased, his fingers slipping through your folds to press against your hole. You choked on your breath as he ever so slowly sank one finger into you.

"I do, I trust you! I promise I trust you," You murmured. Both men seemed appeased by your confession, Felix guiding your lips to his with a hand in your hair. You kissed him, letting him swallow the little noises you made as Chan stretched you open with a second and, eventually, third finger pressing deep inside of you. You could feel his fingers in places you'd never touched yourself, so much deeper than you were used to. Every stroke of his fingers into your aching pussy had you keening high in your throat. You didn't know you could be so sensitive without ever getting off.

"Good. Now you're gonna let me get you nice and ready to take us, okay? Don't want our sweet little thing getting hurt." Felix kissed your cheek, your jaw, down your neck. He continued kissing down your body, leaving wet traces against your skin that cooled in the air once he moved on. He kept going and going, lower, watching you writhe. And once he pressed a final kiss to your pelvic bone, Chan was pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them into his friend's mouth for him to suck clean. Once again, the subtle rise of your orgasm was dulled, washing away and leaving you breathless.

"Lixie, please." You said, turning your attention to the other of the two men and praying that it would help your case. He licked his lips clean of your juices, looking at you with nothing but adoration in his gaze. "Make me feel good, Lix, I need you. Please."

He looked at Chan with pleading eyes, silently coaxing him to move so that Felix could take his turn. Chan chuckled, muttering something about Felix being too soft for his own good, but he dipped down to kiss just below your navel and moved out of the way.

Felix took his place eagerly, but not before stripping the last of his clothes off. The sight before you was enough to slow the gnawing desperation in your core. He was so pretty, firm muscle and smooth skin, freckles faintly decorating his body. Freckles that you wanted to touch and taste and admire. His cock stood proud between his legs, not the longest of the boys, but more than enough. It suited him, complimenting his frame with the way it curved towards his belly.

He stroked himself slowly, guiding one of your legs to rest over his thighs, then doing the same with the other so he could crowd a little closer to you, dragging his cock head through the mess that Chan had finger fucked out of you. You huffed impatiently, and Chan dragged his fingers through your hair, nails scratching lightly at your scalp and silently calming you down and dragging you back to obedience.

"Ready, pretty girl?" Felix asked, his fingers squeezing against your hips, not hard enough to hurt but just a reminder that he was there, thumbs stroking smooth brushes back and forth against the jut of your hip bones. You nodded, tugging him closer with a squeeze of your legs against his waist. He smiled, sinking into you with a surprising ease.

The stretch had your mind going blank, your sensitive walls sucking him in as he rolled his hips steadily into yours, dripping around his hard length. He grunted softly, voice impossibly lower as he brought his thumb to your clit, flicking it gently to help ease the tension. You whined, and it was almost a word, almost a beg for him to move. He seemed to understand if the way he rocked his hips somehow deeper was anything to go by. Then he was pulling back out of you, slowly racking up his pace.

You had only seen Felix in his most gentle state, soft and sweet and caring. This was no different. He cradled your waist like you would break if he grabbed you too hard, and he fucked into you like he was scared you'd split in half. Even so, the steady strokes were deep and dragging against the most sensitive parts of you and sending your back arching to press up towards him.

There wasn't as many words as there had been with Jisung and Minho, just the sound of Felix's hissed breaths and shaky moans as he fucked into you, and the lewd sounds of your pussy gushing around him. Chan was curled beside you, half pressed into your body and half pressed into Felix's, his hands tracing calloused fingertips over your stomach, up to tease your nipples, back down again. When his fingers snaked down lower, you whimpered, his fingers swirling easily against your clit between your hips and Felix's.

"So close," You announced, voice weak and breathy as you climbed your way back towards that sweet, sweet peak.

"Don't," Chan warned you. You whined, squirming away from his touch, but his hand followed, still circling your clit and building you closer and closer. "You can hold it for us, can't you baby? I know you just wanna be so good for us, don't you? Our good girl?"

You whimpered, your thighs twitching against Felix's hips as he fucked into you harder. His fingers were digging hard into your hips, a distinctly harsher touch than Chan's lips as they fluttered against your ribs.

"Gonna cum," Felix hissed out, his head tipped back as he chased his own orgasm. You writhed, half pushing him away as you tried to escape the burning rise of your orgasm. Your chest heaved as you punched out a breath of sweet relief when his hips stilled inside of you, pumping you full of his seed with a few shallow thrusts.

He looked pretty like that, blonde hair sticking to his forehead and his cheeks flushed as his adam's apple bobbed. It was such a sight to behold that you didn't even process Chan pulling his hand away. When Felix pulled out of you, you flinched a little, feeling the way his cum started to seep out of your aching hole. God, you needed something inside of you again.

You hardly had to wait as that thought crossed your mind. Chan took Felix's place, the latter flopping down beside you and guiding your mouth to his. Chan stroked your thighs, dipping one hand between them to finger Felix's release back between your swollen folds. You hissed, your hips bucking into his touch. He chuckled, eyes lighting up with pure adoration.

"So fucking pretty like this, all desperate and pliant." He cooed sweetly. Your chest swelled at the praise, your lips curling into a proud smile.

"Please, Channie, want you to fill me up. Want you inside," You begged him, reaching out for him. He leaned down, catching your lips with his for a brief kiss before stroking himself and lining himself up with your pussy. He slid in easy after you'd been fucked open by Felix, his cum acting as lube for Chan to fuck into you slowly. You hissed softly, your eyes rolling back when his length dragged just right against your walls.

Felix toyed with your nipples, eagerly praising how well you were taking Chan, how lovely you looked being fucked dumb. The words shouldn't have made your chest swell with pride, but they did even so, his honeyed tone spilling over you just like the burning pleasure that was beginning to take over your entire body.

Chan's hands found your thighs, pushing them towards your chest and grunting at the feeling. You keened, already trembling underneath him.

"Channie, need more. I wanna cum," You breathed out. He laughed in affectionate disbelief. You always came off as so unaware, and he knew you'd only been touched like this once before, but his band mates must have taught you how to entice. Or maybe it was just the natural innocence that had drawn him in in the first place.

"I got you, baby girl. Gonna make you cum on daddy's cock so I can breed you, gonna make you so messy." He cooed. You nearly sobbed, the filthy words making your pussy clench around him. His nails were digging against the flesh of your thighs, no doubt leaving marks that you'd be flustered by every time you saw them.

"Close, daddy, please. Please let me cum," You begged. He shook his head, lip curling into a concentrated snarl as if he was holding himself back too. You continued murmuring senseless words, unsure if they were coherent in the least or if they were just to distract you from your impending orgasm.

"Not yet, almost there. Just hold on," He huffed out. Felix leaned in, hand resting around your waist and brushing against your side in soothing touches as he kissed your jaw.

"You can do it, East, you're doing so good for us." He promised. His words made you cry out an uncontrolled moan, head tipping back. His voice was going to be the thing to push you over the edge, you knew it. "I know you wanna feel good baby. Isn't it enough just to have us fuck you?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, the string snapping and your orgasm taking you entirely. You arched against Felix's arm, legs shaking in Chan's grip. He didn't slow down though, fucking you through the tremors of your climax until blood was rushing in your ears and sweat had stuck your hair to your forehead. And when you expected him to stop, he kept going, his hips smacking into yours harshly. You writhed, every stroke feeling like a zap of electricity through your lower body, but you relaxed under Chan's touch, his hands skating down your thighs and back up them.

You were nearly in tears at the sensitivity, edging somewhere between pleasure and pain, when Chan's thrusts slow, a groan slipping past his lips. A few more thrusts and he'd filled you up all over again. He pulled out of you after letting you catch your breath, watching the way your eyes fell shut and your entire body relaxed into the bed beneath you. He hummed softly, leaning down to kiss you lightly, stroking his thumb under your eye where tears had started slipping down your cheeks, now mostly dry and barely there. Your eyes fluttered open, looking up at him as he smiled sweetly, and you couldn't resist smiling back.

"Are you alright, baby?" Chan asked, still stroking your cheek. You hummed, not quite able to form words. "Felix is gonna stay here with you, I'll be right back."

You pouted, but that melted away when Felix snuggled against you, peppering kisses over your shoulder and murmuring sweet words into your ear. It was hard to think about anything else but how comfortable he was wrapped around you, even if both of you felt a little sticky with sweat and the room smelled like the still lingering musky scent of sex that you still weren't quite used to.

When Chan came back, he looked cleaned up, having grabbed a pair of sweatpants on his way out. He tossed Felix a washcloth, kissing his head as he passed in a show of affection you didn't see often between the boys when they were all together. Felix stood only when Chan had managed to place a hand on your bare skin. He started cleaning himself up, and Chan took his turn to clean you up, careful to be gentle when you flinched away from his touch between your legs.

"How do you feel?" He asked quietly. You hummed again.

"I'm okay. Kinda worn out, but alright." You admitted, your voice sounding more hoarse than you expected. You cleared your throat, a little embarrassed. Chan smiled though.

"Okay, good. I was worried we'd been too hard on you or pushed you into something you didn't want to do." Chan sounded almost devastated at the idea of crossing a line. You sighed softly, reaching your arms out for him to curl up to you.

"It's fine, you weren't too hard. Actually, you were probably not even as bad as Hannie and Minho." You smiled at the memory. It's just...I don't exactly have a lot of experience with this."

Felix chuckled sweetly as he climbed onto the bed to join the cuddle puddle, tugging the blanket with him despite the fact that you probably should be getting out of bed and changing the sheets you'd surely left a mess on.

"We know. They wouldn't stop talking about it. Hyung was so proud to be your first." Felix said, looking up at you. You flushed.

"They talked about it?" You asked, looking between the two men. Chan nodded, stroking his thumb against your hip.

"They never shut up about it. They're trying to make everyone jealous. We all wanted to be in their place, you know. We all want you, even if it means we have to share." Chan's voice was soft, almost like he was afraid he'd scare you off. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out as you tried to process what exactly he was implying.

"All of you?" You asked. He nodded. "Share me? Like...whenever you want?"

Another nod. They were both just looking at you quietly, waiting for you to think the idea over.

"You would get to say no. We can put a safe word in place so you can stop if you get overwhelmed or don't like something. We can even have a meeting about it with the boys if you wanted." Felix promised with thinly veiled excitement. You pressed your lips together. How could you even consider something like this? But was there anyone safer to give yourself to? And it felt nice if you were honest, just letting them take the reins and not having to think about anything. The thought of it had something stirring in your stomach again.

"Yeah maybe we can...maybe we can all talk about it?" You said, your fingers finding the strings of Chan's sweatpants, toying with them nervously. He nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Yeah, I'll arrange something."

And arrange something, he did. It was awkward sitting in front of all eight of the boys, watching them all try to hide their desperate longing to have their turns with you as you discussed rules and boundaries, things you'd never explored beyond the fleeting thoughts in your head and the things your friends would joke about. The safe-word was agreed upon last, and with that, you handed over your body to your new best friends.

Nearly a week and a half had passed between the meeting you'd all had and the next encounter you had with any of the boys. It was making you anxious actually, and you were half worried that it was some big elaborate prank. But finally you found yourself in Hyunjin's bed, straddling his lap as he leisurely kissed you, his large hands pressed to your hips. It was slow, not as desperate as you'd expected him to be. It hadn't even started out like this, it had just been you laying on his bed while he drew. How you ended up with his hands roaming your sides, you weren't entirely sure, but you definitely weren't upset with the way his tongue dragged across yours.

You nearly jumped out of his lap when the door swung open, Changbin coming in without so much as a knock.

"Hey, have you seen-" He stopped in his tracks, noting the way that Hyunjin was clearly trying to keep you pressed close to his chest, one arm around your waist and the other hand squeezing your thigh. "There she is. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"You are actually, so if you don't mind." Hyunjin said, raking a hand through his hair. It was getting long, tickling his cheeks when it fell forward.

"Can I join?" He asked. Hyunjin's attention flicked to you, clearly not wanting to make a decision without your input. You gave him a small shrug, but the hopeful glimmer in your eye didn't go unnoticed. He pressed his lips to yours again, hungry and passionate enough that it felt like you would drown in him. Your hands fisted into his shirt, tugging him closer to you.

"Yeah, come on. Close the door."

Changbin did just that, knocking the door shut and nearly vaulting onto the bed. He sat himself behind you, not hesitating to lavish wet, warm kisses over your shoulders, up your neck. His hands slid up your sides, calloused and gentle against your waist as he kneaded the flesh there lightly. You hummed, tipping your head to the side for him and closing your eyes. Hyunjin followed a similar path, kissing down to your clavicle and tracing the dips of it with his tongue.

"Look how fucking pretty she is," He mused, tugging your shirt off with Changbin's help, the older man unclasping your bra and letting Hyunjin slide it off. You were a bit shocked by how easily the two of them worked as a team, as if they'd done this several times before. Something bitter swirled in your stomach at the idea of them sharing someone else like this.

"I've been waiting forever to touch her like this. These pretty tits," Changbin cupped your breasts, pinching your nipples between his fingers, tugging and rolling them into hardened peaks and listening to the little gasps and hisses that you let out into the space the three of you were occupying.

"Up, want these off." He flipped your skirt up around your waist, brushing his thumb against the cotton of your panties. You nodded quickly, carefully shifting so that Changbin could tug them down your legs. And he did just that, giving up after a few seconds of trying to maneuver you and instead opting to simply tear them off. You looked at Hyunjin, a little stunned, but he didn't seem as surprised as you did, rolling his eyes with a fond smile.

Hyunjin shifted under you, nudging you back further so you were settled in Changbin's lap instead of his own. Bin wrapped his arms around your bare waist, pressing you into his firm chest. You turned your head, shyly brushing your lips against his until he took the lead, one hand coming to rest under your chin, keeping you turned towards him and kissing him fervently.

Hyunjin shifted, laying himself down on his stomach and spreading your legs open. He pushed your skirt up again, out of his way, and tucked his hair behind his ear before pressing his lips to your legs. You hummed against the other man's lips, letting him swallow the sound.

Hyunjin's mouth was slow, moving up your thighs, then back down, taking his time to trace over every inch of your skin that he could reach. He looked up through his lashes, sucking a dark hickey against the inside of your thigh and kneading the other under his large palm.

You pulled away from Changbin's mouth, and he eagerly returned to leaving his mark on the sensitive skin of your neck.

"You're sensitive here," Hyunjin stated, tracing his fingers up the inside of your thigh and watching the way you twitched in Changbin's lap. He kissed the spot, up and up and up until he was brushing ever so gently against your folds. You whined, and he chuckled, laying a kiss over your wet pussy before returning to your thighs. "I could stay here all day, baby. You look so pretty all spread out for us. Right, hyung?"

Changbin took over then, rumbling sweet praise into your shoulder. You looked so pretty, sounded so nice when you gasped like that. How you were so patient. You looked like a fucking goddess in his lap in nothing but your skirt. Your head was spinning with the way they bounced back and forth, hands exploring your body, finding your most sensitive spots, their lips leaving trails of kisses that were nothing short of adoring. The attention had you overheating.

"Been so patient for us, such a sweet girl." Hyunjin murmured, diving into your pussy with hardly any warning, his tongue lapping long stripes through your wetness to flick against your clit. You moaned, head tipping back fast enough to bump against Changbin's shoulder. Hyunjin huffed a breathy laugh into your core, eating you out just like he'd kissed you. He was claiming you, his tongue swirling with a practiced expertise, building you up just slow enough that it kept your pleasure burning like hellfire.

"Hyun, please," You whined, your hand coming down to card through his hair, tugging at the long locks a little harder than you intended. He moaned, and your hips rocked upwards at the vibrations of it. Changbin guided you back down to Hyunjin's mouth with a firm hand over your lower stomach, and you felt another wave of arousal flood your center at the feeling of being so entirely surrounded. "Want your fingers. Please, I need them inside,"

Hyunjin complied quickly, suckling at your clit as he eased one of his long fingers inside of you. Your walls clenched around him, sucking him deeper as he curled the digit against the spot that had you seeing stars, hardly having to look for it. You keened, rocking into his touch. Hyunjin pressed his free hand against your thigh, trying to keep you in place. But it was Changbin that got you still, his arms hooking under your knees and spreading your legs wider. Your legs strained against his grip, but he didn't hesitate for even a moment. You were entirely pinned in place, spread even wider as Hyunjin sank a second finger into you, pulling his head back to watch the way they looked, sliding out and slick with your juices before he pressed them in again.

"So fucking pretty, look how well she's taking my fingers. Should have done this sooner. Don't you think, pretty girl?"

You nodded, too busy chasing the build of your orgasm to think about what you were agreeing to.

"Yes, sir." You gasped out. Hyunjin smirked, a laugh slipping out. He didn't stop, though, just pushing you further. You clawed at Changbin's arms, leaving marks on his forearms that dragged a sweet, heady groan from him, the sound rushing through you like an electric current.

"Gonna cum," You warned breathlessly, unable to even ride the wave of pleasure, only able to take and take and take everything that Hyunjin gave you. His tongue slid against your clit in slow, languid strokes that were a drastic opposition to the way his fingers sped up inside of you.

It was a split second before you were hit by your orgasm, a long moan stealing the air from your lungs as you jerked and writhed in Changbin's touch, relishing in the way he kissed you wherever he could reach. You didn't fully notice when his arms let your legs fall to the sides, just when he stroked a hand through your hair, murmuring sweet praise in your ear. Hyunjin was carefully pulling his fingers out of your hole.

"Did so good, pretty girl," He said, tapping his fingers against your lips. You opened them, still half catching your breath as you sucked them clean. He was clearly pleased with your obedience, guiding you off of Changbin's lap and back into his. You didn't hesitate, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing closer. His hard on was obvious through the material of his sweatpants, pressing against your sensitive clit. You rolled your hips against him, and he groaned.

"Let's give Changbinnie hyung some attention too, okay baby? He's been so patient too." Hyunjin half hissed, clearly trying to cling to his self control. You nodded, turning towards the older man who was already tearing his clothes off, discarding his shirt and his shorts and revealing that he hadn't been wearing anything underneath. You giggled, waiting for instructions.

He stroked his cock, sitting back to look at you for a long moment. You watched, mesmerized by the way his hand slid over his length. He wasn't too big, not as long as the others, but he was thick enough that his fingers barely wrapped all the way around his length. You were pretty sure that if you tried you would have trouble stroking him fully.

"You like Daddy's cock, babygirl?" He asked, a smirk on his lips. You nodded quickly, still hardly looking up at him. "Come here, on your hands and knees."

You did just that, your legs still a little weak from straining against Changbin's strength. But you did as he said, presenting yourself in front of him, resting your weight on your knees and bending forward onto your elbows. He hummed, landing a firm smack against the back of your thigh. You jolted, a startled yelp slipping out, but it was clear you enjoyed the feeling by the way your hips sank back towards him. He gave you another slap to the thigh, and then a firm palm against your ass cheek. You hummed this time, warmth flooding through you.

He was taking too long, you thought. You buried your face in your arms, wiggling your hips when he continued taking his sweet, sweet time squeezing and kneading your ass and thighs, spreading open your lower lips and watching the way you clenched around nothing when he did.

"Please, daddy," You whined. You heard Hyunjin chuckle, and Changbin said something under his breath that you didn't quite catch. But you didn't care because then he was running the head of his cock through your folds, dipping just enough inside that you could feel the stretch. You gasped, pressing back towards the feeling. He gripped at your hip, sliding himself carefully into you until his hips were pushed flush against you. He gave you a moment to adjust, and you were absolutely aching with the stretch, but the discomfort was gone as quickly as it came.

As soon as Changbin felt you relax a little, he picked up a steady pace, fucking into you in sharp, deep thrusts that you swore you could feel all the way in your throat. You grasped at the sheets, moaning louder than you intended to. Changbin's stamina was taking you by surprise, his pace never faltering despite the way he cursed. He was vocal, and it had you dripping on his dick, the arousal dripping down the back of your thighs.

"Look at how she takes my cock, her pussy is fucking perfect," Changbin said. You assumed he was talking to Hyunjin, and the latter chuckled from your side. He'd pulled his own dick out, stroking it in time with the wet sounds of Changbin filling you up from behind. You turned to look at him, pressing your cheek against your arms and biting your lip to keep from groaning too loud. After all, the other boys were still home and it would be downright humiliating to have them hear the way their friends were fucking you into oblivion.

"She loves it. She's already so fucked out and she's only cum once." Hyunjin groaned. You whined in agreement. It was true, you could hardly form a coherent thought that wasn't just a whimper of their names, or some desperate plea for more which seemed impossible since Changbin was already plowing into you hard enough to have your legs feeling like jello.

"Can you hear how wet she is?" Changbin laughed. His thrusts fell out of rhythm for a second, and something dropped to the bed beside you, but then he was back at it, thrusting hard and fast and kneading the globes of your ass in his palms.

"I think she's close,"

You nodded shamelessly, the feeling tearing through you. Changbin reached down, his thumb finding your clit. Two circles of the bundle of nerves and you were gone, only held up by Changbin's arm around your hips and the sheer power of will. You were almost sobbing, your chest heaving with deep breaths as you trembled. The second orgasm was even stronger than the first, and your head was spinning when you came down, blood rushing in your ears. Changbin had stopped, still deep inside of you and you could tell from the way his fingers dug against your hips that he was battling his own orgasm.

Hyunjin, however, didn't seem nearly as interested in putting off his pleasure. He shifted so he was in front of you, reaching down to grab something. Changbin leaned forward, his fingers sliding through your messy hair before gripping near the roots and tugging. Your head fell back, and you scrambled to catch yourself on your hands to manage the force of it. Your jaw fell open in a choked whine, and Hyunjin grinned.

"Open up, baby." He said, the tip of his cock tapping against your lower lip. You did as he said, opening your mouth and letting your tongue poke over your bottom lip. He didn't slide into your mouth, instead just jerking himself off and groaning out the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard. When your eyes lifted up to meet his, you were instead met with the camera of Changbin's phone trained on your face. You didn't even react, probably because your brain hadn't fully processed it before Hyunjin was finishing on your tongue. A few strings of his cum missed your mouth, landing on your upper lip or dripping down your cheek, but you just waited for him to finish, savoring the salty taste and waiting for him to tell you to swallow it.

He took a moment, gripping your chin to turn your face this way and that, catching each angle on camera and grinning at his work.

"Pretty little slut, right? You should take her for a spin." He swiped his thumb across your cheek, wiping his cum into your mouth and telling you to swallow. You did so dutifully, suckling his thumb to ensure you'd gotten all of it that you could.

"Your turn, hyung. Fill her up." Hyunjin said, passing the phone back to his friend who let go of your hair. Your upper body sank back to the bed, even more boneless than you'd been before. Changbin took the phone, and quickly after his hips were meeting yours again, sharp thrusts with a newfound energy. Your breath was knocked out of you, and you could only manage to whine in response, pressing yourself further back into him. You'd never felt so overwhelmed by a physical pleasure, it was as if your nerve endings were on fire.

You nuzzled into the bed, hiding your face in the blankets to muffle the sounds spilling out without your permission. You could hear Changbin talking to the camera through grit teeth, spewing filthy words about how good you felt wrapped around him, and you blushed even through the fog in your mind.

You barely got a warning from him before he was spilling inside of you, the grip he had on your thighs downright bruising, and probably the only thing grounding you to reality as he pumped his cum into you. Hyunjin rubbed your back, guiding you to turn your head against the bed, half worried that you'd suffocate yourself with the way you were sinking into the mattress. The evident affection on his face made a smile curl on your lips.

It was a few minutes before you felt like you weren't floating anymore, like your body was real - albeit very heavy and weak - and you started to process your surroundings again. You whined, feeling Changbin slip out of you.

You carefully lowered yourself fully onto the bed, already noting the ache in your thighs. You closed your eyes, listening to Hyunjin and Changbin's hushed voices above you as they redressed themselves. Hyunjin settled back down behind you, and you gravitated towards his touch with a sleepy hum. You blink up at him, and he strokes your cheek.

"You did so well for us, baby. Such a good girl. Do you feel okay?" He asked. You nodded, a dazed smile still tugging at your lips. "Does it hurt anywhere?"

You scrunched up your face, thinking hard about his question and trying to figure out which limbs were which all over again.

"I'll get you painkillers. Just to be sure. Changbin hyung is getting snacks and we'll get you cleaned up. Then you can nap if you want." Hyunjin smoothed your hair back, kissing your forehead. You closed your eyes and nodded. A nap sounded nice, after all and now that the fog was starting to lift from your mind you were a little hungry.

"Okay," You murmured, painstakingly rolling onto your back instead of your front.

It took a little while of the two men pampering you, but eventually you were cleaned up and dressed, curled up in Changbin's bed (by Hyunjin's request because he really had no interest in laying in the inevitable bodily fluids that had ended up on his blankets) with Hyunjin's fingers in your hair and your legs tangled with Changbin's.

"Hey, you said videos and stuff were fine, but do you care if I share it with some friends?" Changbin said, guiding your chin up so you'd look at him. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to keep track of your reactions to the question. It was a big ask, you'd never had anyone see you like that besides your boys. And it was incredibly vulnerable, especially since you hadn't even watched the videos back.

"You can say no," Hyunjin said after a moment of your silence. You looked at him, then at Changbin who was looking a little worried.

"I think it's okay." You said finally. Changbin's eyes widened like he wasn't expecting you to agree. "I mean I trust you guys, you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. So if you trust them to see me...I trust them too."

Changbin dipped his head to kiss you, a giddy smile on his face. Hyunjin snorted out a laugh at his friend, and you stifled your own giggle.

"Thanks baby, you're so good to us." Hyunjin murmured, Changbin already rolled over to grab his phone and forward the videos. You didn't ask who to, maybe it was better that you didn't know. You hadn't met any of their friends yet, and you figured that it was inevitable. Better not to know who had seen you getting railed within an inch of your life when you were meeting new people.

"Anything for my boys. You know that."

[eastleighsblog]

Multiplayer game

This is a story I commissioned from the amazing goldenhoney-cas if you would like to commission a story please go to them they do an amazing job , they keep you up to date and are exteremly resonable with their prices , there are three chapters of this story of you would like me to post the second and third parts let me know

Warnings: Smut, dubcon, somnophilia, loss of virginity, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), threesome, pervy skz, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, (light) exhibitionism/voyeurism, minor oral fixation, dom/sub dynamics, implied panty kink, begging, multiple orgasms, a single edging, some degredation and praise

Studying wasn’t your favorite pastime, and it certainly wasn’t your favorite way to spend your mornings. But it was just past ten in the morning, and you were cozied up in your favorite cafe, a warm drink in your hand and your notes spread across the table closest to the door (makes for an easy escape when you finally finish, after all). Your laptop screen threatened to go dark the longer you stared at it without moving a muscle, but that wasn’t enough to bring you to type anything.

Studying even when you’d rather be doing anything else was part of your plan to make this year of university better than the previous ones. Which was in turn the first step in your big, looming plan to get your life all sorted out the way that you wanted it to be. So you sucked it up, and took a drink of your coffee, and sighed as it warmed you from the inside out.

You flipped the page of your book, glancing up passively each time that the door to the cafe swung open and made the little bell up above it jingle gently. Studying was always rough, but it was a little easier when you had something to look forward to. So you had come here, bought yourself a drink, and promised yourself one of the absolutely delectable cinnamon sugar muffins that you loved so much once you were all finished with your assignments.

The air outside was crisp and cool, blowing in with each new customer, and you’d taken to spreading your hands over your papers so the sweeping gusts of air wouldn’t take your work with it. But as the door opened again, your reflexes weren’t quite quick enough. The loose papers on your table scattered, fluttering to the floor like the first fall of snow that was looming just around the corner. You cursed, and not as quietly as you probably should have. That of course drew the attention of the two men who had walked in, and an older couple sitting nearby. You flashed the couple an apologetic smile, but the woman laughed, clearly not too bothered by it.

“Sorry,” A nervous chuckle caught your attention, drawing it back to the situation at hand. You stood up to gather your papers, but one of the men had already gathered them and was offering them back to you. He smiled, and your heart did a nervous little flip-flop in your chest.

“No, no, it’s not your fault. I wasn’t paying attention to the door,” You took the papers from him, carefully putting them back in order and sliding the now neat stack into your folder. “Thank you for your help, you really didn’t need to do that.”

He shook his head, and there was that smile again. He was too pretty for his own good, and yours too actually because you were pretty sure that there was an incriminating blush climbing up your neck.

“It’s not a problem. I’m Chan by the way. That’s Minho.” He introduced himself, then motioned towards the friend that had come in with him. He was stunning too, a little bit taller than Chan, with chocolate brown hair that framed his face just right. You smiled at him, and he raised a hand in greeting, his lips curving every so slightly into an enticing, barely-there smile.

“I’m Eastleigh. Nice to meet you guys.” You turned back to the homework you’d been staring at mindlessly. You hadn’t made too terribly much progress, but your brain was beginning to go numb, and with two handsome men in the building you weren’t sure how committed your focus would really be. You closed your laptop. “How about I buy your drinks? To repay you for being so sweet and saving me from complete humiliation.”

They both insisted it wasn’t necessary, but you refused to back down, half wanting to show that their kindness was truly appreciated, and half just wanting to spend a few more moments with them. And with a bit of pushing and a little pout on your lips, they eventually gave in and let you buy their coffees. Minho, however, did manage to pay for the pastries they got.

“Do you mind if we sit with you for a little bit?” Chan asked. You hesitated, but it was damn near impossible to turn down such an offer. So you nodded, returning to your seat to clear space for them while they waited for their drinks.

When they came back, they both settled so they were facing you, looking at you like they were trying to memorize you. It was exhilarating honestly, having two unreasonably attractive men look at you that way. Minho sipped his coffee, iced despite the chill setting in at this time of year.

“So, what’s all that work you were doing? University?” Chan asked, leaning forward, eager to learn more about you. You were grateful for his friendly demeanor to break through whatever nerves were settling inside of you. You loved meeting new people and making friends, but you were a bit rusty at it at this point. You nodded.

“Yeah, I go to school near here,” You told them. They both made little noises of recognition, and you had to laugh at how impressed they seemed. “Are you guys in school?”

Minho shook his head as you brought your drink to your lips. He watched you sip the warm liquid, waiting for them to continue.

“No, we work together. We’re, ah, we’re musicians.” Chan said, trying to piece his words together as smoothly as he could without giving their identities away right off the bat. “We didn’t go to university. But your dedication is amazing. I didn’t even study this much in highschool.”

You tried not to fluster at the compliment, quickly waving him off.

“I haven’t always been this dedicated to my education. That’s why I’m studying so hard now. I want to do better than I had before and make the most of my time studying abroad.” You admitted.

The conversation flowed easily like that between the three of you. Chan talked the most, eagerly taking the lead with excited, curious questions that you answered without hesitation. Minho would pipe up now and then, never intruding too deep past what was acceptable first meeting conversation topics. He seemed more the introverted type, but he watched you intensely like he was trying to get to know you without having to speak. It made you shift almost restlessly in your seat as a warmth thrummed through you.

After nearly an hour, your homework was long forgotten, and you’d all finished your drinks as you built a couple of new friendships.

“We should leave soon,.” Minho said, tapping Chan gently to take his attention back from you. Chan looked almost startled at remembering that they’d have to leave at some point. You smiled at how precious his disappointment was.

“You should come hang out with us. We can watch movies at our place or something. You can meet our friends, they’re great.” Chan said, clearly hopeful. You laughed, rubbing your arm. With a grin like his and a silent glimmer of hope behind Minho’s eyes, it was impossible to not want to go. When you didn’t answer fast enough, Minho spoke in your defense.

“I’m sure she has lots of work to do. We don’t want to be a distraction if you need to focus.” He said. You considered his words. You really did have a decent amount of work to do, but you were already not doing it, and you couldn’t imagine you’d be doing too much more serious thinking for the rest of the day. What would a day off hurt? You sighed, brushing your hair behind your ear as you weighed the options.

To be fair, following two strange men to their house wasn’t exactly the sort of thing that your parents would approve of. However, they had been nothing but sweet, and you were studying abroad for the sake of widening your world view, to experience more of those once in a lifetime moments. How could you turn one down when it was right in front of you?

“I think I can hang out for a little while. I’ve already been studying for a few hours,” You said, watching the two of them share a look, Chan’s complete with a victorious grin that made you giggle.

“Can one of you go get me a cinnamon sugar muffin?” You asked, placing your money on the table in front of you and moving to put all of your things back into your bag. Minho agreed, standing up and walking to the counter, your money left on the table. You tried to protest, but Chan shook his head.

“Let him go, he’s not great at showing people how he feels, this is sort of his thing. Take it as a compliment.” He said. You hesitantly put your money back into your waller, silently reminding yourself that you’d have to pay him back when you got the opportunity.

Once you were all sufficiently wrapped up, and all of your things were collected, you followed the boys out into the cold, huddling closer to the two of them for the sake of sharing warmth.

“So you two live together?” You asked. Minho nodded quietly, still holding the small paper bag with your muffin in it.

“Yeah, not just us though. There’s a few other people who live there, too.” He explained. “They probably won’t be home when we get there, though. Is that okay?”

You nodded. You were always down to meet new people, and if they were friends with Chan and Minho, surely they couldn’t be so bad.

The dorm was pretty much what you’d expect from a handful of young men living together. It was messy as if they all had a hundred things going on at once, but not necessarily dirty. There were two couches in the sitting area, and an arm chair as well, sort of out of place as if it had been put there as an afterthought. Off to the side there was a doorway into a small kitchen that you figured could fit probably three or four people at a time. You assumed the doors down the hallway were their respective bedrooms.

“Make yourself at home. Do you want water or something?” Chan asked, putting his keys on the little table by the door and heading for the kitchen. You sat down on one of the couches and agreed to his offer. Before you knew it, Chan was coming back with a bottle of water for each of you. He sat himself down on the opposite end of the couch.

“So you’re not from Korea, right? How long have you been here?” He asked as you cracked open your bottle and took a drink.

“I came here in the middle of the summer I think? So about four months now.” You explained. Chan nodded. If he was honest, he knew that he didn’t have the purest thoughts in bringing you here, and neither did Minho if the way he was eating you alive with his eyes was anything to go off of, but it was genuinely so easy to just listen to you talk. The last thing he wanted was to cut that short.

“And you’ll be here for the entire year?” Minho asked, picking up the conversation when Chan got too absorbed in his thoughts to ask the question. You nodded, shifting a little bit as Chan took up more space on the couch, stretching enough enough that his thigh brushed against yours ever so slightly. You shifted, subconsciously chasing the warmth that his body radiated.

“Yeah, I might stay longer than that actually. I really love it here, but I have a while to decide before I finish school.” You shrugged. “I’d at least wanna go visit my friends and family back home, bring some more of my things over during the summer after I graduate.”

Chan nodded understandingly, explaining that he and one of their other friends were from Australia, about how it was hard to go long stretches without visiting their home and their families.

“Are you seeing anyone? Here or back home?” Minho asked, looking up from his phone. You shifted again, sitting a little straighter and accidentally scooting yourself closer to where Chan was stretched out. You laughed a little bit nervously.

“Oh, um, no. I’m not dating anyone. I actually don’t really have much experience in that department.” You were a bit hesitant to let on that you hadn’t dated much in your young life. You’d never had too much interest in it, always content just to spend your time with your friends or your family, or with your nose in a book. And by the time that you did want to date, you were much more focused on growing your education. And now, with your plans for the future still up in the air, and no roots planted in Korea or in your home country, you weren’t looking to rush head first into anything new.

“Really? That’s surprising,” Chan admitted, taking a swig from his water. You watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, trying not to blush at the quick, filthy thought that flashed through your mind. You weren’t usually the type, but they really were very attractive and you were only human after all.

“Why is that?” You asked.

“Well, you’re just really pretty. And smart. Guys like that,” His words were followed by a nervous laugh, sweeter than honey. A smile tugged at your lips. “I just figured that you’d have guys falling at your feet.”

He made a vague gesture with his hands, and you could swear that he was getting flustered. You tried not to read into it. Chan and Minho were both charming, and exceedingly handsome, and you really didn’t want to toot your own horn by thinking that you could pull either of them. Or even worse, assume that was the reason that they were spending their day with you.

“What about you two? Are you seeing anyone?” You turned the question back on them, and they shared a look.

“No, not really. Minho has a hookup going though.” Chan teased, tossing his now empty bottle at his friend who gave him an incredulous look. “But dating doesn’t usually fit into our schedules.”

“You’re busy a lot then?” You asked. They nodded.

“We’re, uh, we’re kpop idols. Performers, you know? So we have a lot going on most of the time.” Minho explained carefully, almost sounding as if he were nervous for what your reaction would be. You just nodded, letting out an impressed hum.

“That’s really cool. You all must be really dedicated to your music, then. Like I am with school.” You said. They both seemed to let out a breath of relief at how casually you took their confessions. That at least gave them home that you weren’t some crazed fan trying to get close to them.

Your conversations drew on, a couple more hours passing before the sound of the door unlocking made you realize how long you’d been hanging around. You looked over the back of the couch at the door as it swung open. A couple of rambunctious boys spilled into the room, the first was lean, his chestnut hair falling over his forehead as he practically bounced on the balls of his feet. The other had blonde hair, half hanging off of the first and laughing brightly, matching his energy without even trying. Behind them was another dark haired boy, and a taller one with long hair tied back from his face. The two of them were hanging back to avoid getting caught up in the wild energy just ahead of them.

“Welcome back,” Chan called, his tone teasing at the way that none of them had noticed their guest. Their conversation fell quiet when they noticed you, and the blonde smiled. You smiled back.

“Hey, I’m Felix!” He said, the depth of his voice catching you a little off guard. You gave him a small nod in greeting.

“I’m Eastleigh.”

The other energetic boy introduced himself, seeming much less bouncy than he had moments ago, now a little more reserved. Jisung. The way he sat himself next to Minho made you wonder if he was the hookup Chan had referred to, half slinging himself over the man, Minho easily accommodating the closeness. Felix took a seat on the other end of the couch from him.

The next boy was Seungmin, who Chan had offhandedly mentioned wasn’t always as quick to warm up to new people as the others, and it was clear in the way that he didn’t have much to say before excusing himself to take a shower. You made a mental note to try to befriend him later on. And finally was Hyunjin, who was friendly enough for a first encounter. The way he stared at you, however, was a bit off putting, especially when you couldn’t tell for sure if it was curiosity or distrust. More than likely a side effect of working in the spotlight. You couldn’t imagine that they had the best experiences with random girls being around them.

Those of you still in the sitting room chatted for a while, nothing in depth. Jisung excitedly told a story about the trip they’d taken to the arcade, and some scene they’d watched while waiting to play a game. Something about relationship drama that you’d honestly thought had gotten left back in highschool. Even so, it was amusing to watch the way he told the story. His eyes lit up, and his arms waved wildly as he spoke, just barely missing his friends as he did so. Felix easily muted his hand-talking by laying halfway on top of him.

This was something you’d missed recently, a friend group to just relax with and spend your free time around. Ever since entering college, your friend group had been small, even more so once you decided to study abroad, leaving your friends back home. You hoped that maybe this could be a nice replacement for the time being.

Once Jisung had finished his story, Minho put his phone aside. “Where are Changbin and Jeongin?”

You could practically see Minho starting to come out of his shell now, and as he did, the cold exterior he’d begun with started to melt away. He was smiling more, goofing off with his friends. It was cute, actually. All of it was; how close they all were, and the way they were so comfortable being themselves around each other. Not to mention the way that they welcomed you with open arms.

“Changbin hyung wanted to go to the gym. Innie went with him. Didn’t want to slack between schedules,” Seungmin said, scoffing lightly. You laughed. You fell in easily with them, the same way you had with Chan and Minho. The conversations drew on, topped off with takeout once the other two came back home and were introduced. You let yourself relax around the boys in a way you never had before.

You’d left after dark that evening, having spent most of your day there. You’d learned that they’d just finished a promotion schedule, that they’d have more time on their hands than they had for a while. You’d also learned that they were planning a sleepover to celebrate. Movies, games, snacks. One that you were invited to without hesitation.

You spent the next week visiting them during every moment that you weren’t in class, even when you were just laying on the couch or one of their beds doing your homework. Their home became yours, and they were quickly becoming your favorite part of studying abroad. When the sleepover came around, you had already left a few outfits and bathroom supplies at the dorm, so you came straight after class to find the boys spread around the room.

They argued over whose room you would sleep in for hours before you’d even had dinner, which was endearing to say the least. You had watched a couple of movies, and watched the boys play video games and bicker about them. It was after this, once everyone had started getting tired, turned to their phones as the energy died down that Chan turned to you where you were curled up against him.

“Did you decided who you want to sleep with?” Chan asked. They’d opted to set up a makeshift bed in the middle of the room, but it looked like only a few of you were going to make it into a proper sleeping arrangement. Felix had already fallen asleep on one couch wrapped tight around Seungmin who didn’t look to be too terribly far behind him, his phone starting to slip out of his hand as his eyes fell shut. Meanwhile Jisung was curled up on the other couch with Changbin half-asleep opposite him. You looked at the bed the rest of you would share.

“Um,” You looked then at the boys who were still awake. “I don’t think it really matters.”

Minho was already settling down in the furthest pile of blankets. He waved you over.

“You can sleep here. That way you won’t have to trip over anyone if you need to get up,” He said, clearing the outside space for you. You smiled appreciatively.

“Thanks, Min,” You looked at the others to see if any of them had any objections, but none of them said anything. So you took the spot with another thank you to Minho. He didn’t say much, but you’d gotten used to reading into his body language. Especially when he was tired, and he seemed quietly pleased with your willingness to sleep beside him.

There was a little more talking and laughter as you all settled in, phones getting put away and blankets pulled around everyone. You found yourself pressed closer to Minho’s side, the two of you sharing a blanket. Your legs were pressed against one another’s, and the warmth of his body beside you had your mind straying. Maybe you were a bit touch starved after being away from your friends and family for so long.

Still, despite the thrumming warmth inside of you, you were eventually able to fall asleep. Minho was careful not to move, not wanting to risk disturbing you. You slept soundly for a while, only stirring to the feeling of Minho rolling over, slinging his arm sleepily around your waist and pulling you tight to his front. Honestly, you weren’t awake enough to think anything of it when you roused up a second time.

You hummed softly, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would lull you back into sleep. You were barely conscious, only focused on the tickling sensation along the front of your thighs. You shifted, and it didn’t stop. You pouted a little, fully intending to ignore it and go back to sleep when you felt the front of your nightgown shift, riding further and further up until the touch was firm enough to recognize. A hand, touching gentle and slow over the smooth skin of your thighs, sneaking your nightgown out of the way to trace the waistband of your panties. Your breath hitched, heart picking up to pound against your ribcage.

“So pretty,” The voice was just a whisper, air brushing past your ear. “I can’t help myself. But you don’t mind, do you?”

It was Minho, his voice low in the quiet of the room where all of your friends were sleeping soundly. His fingers slipped under the flimsy fabric of your panties. You were frozen, trying to wrap your barely awakened mind around the feeling of his fingers stroking your core, teasing you into arousal.

“I saw the way you were looking at me. Looking at all of us like a pretty little slut,” His words stung in an unfamiliar way, but the tone of his voice was like pure sugar, making your chest buzz. You squirmed a little, trying to escape the touch so you could at least think straight. You should be getting up, pushing him away and hitting him for touching you like that while you were sleeping.

“Minho,” You whispered, the desperation on the tail end of his name sounding almost like lust as you pushed his arm away. He just chuckled, he was close enough that his lips pressed ust below your ear. The sound of his voice sent a chill down your spine as he dipped his middle finger between your folds, spreading the growing wetness that he found there.

“There’s my babygirl. Shh, quit pushing,” He shushed you gently, kissing your neck a few more times. His voice was stern but sweet. Your stomach jumped, twisted. You whined.

“What are you doing?” You asked, still squirming, but it was hard to fight when the foreign sensation was catching you off guard. When it felt good to have him touch you the way that he was, ways you’d only ever touched yourself before.

“Taking care of you. Feels good, doesn’t it?” Gonna ruin you just like you want me to.” He told you, dipping his head lower to mouth down your neck, swirling his tongue over your pulse point. You hadn’t realized that you were overheating until you felt his breath on your skin. You let out a sigh as he sunk his finger into you, curling it just enough to press into your most sensitive spot. You could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke again. “Hush, pretty girl, don’t wanna wake the boys up.”

You felt your heart leap. You didn’t want to wake the other boys up. How could you ever face them knowing that you were being fingered open on their sitting room floor while they were all oblivious to it.

“Please,” You whispered, his finger pumping slowly inside of you, dragging a warmth from your core to spread through your entire body like wildfire. You wanted him to stop, even if it felt good, you were too deep in your head. But you couldn’t seem to ask him for that, not with the pressure in your lower tummy building with every pass of his thumb over your clit, every press of his finger inside of you.

“I know,” He cooed. “I know, feels so good. Can’t even ask for what you want. Wanna cum, babygirl?”

He was taunting you, his voice a little louder than it should have been. Your back arched off the makeshift bed you were laying in, your hips grinding closer to his touch against your will. You shook your head a little, but he didn’t stop. Instead he slipped a second finger into you carefully. You bit back a pathetic moan at the feeling, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“There you go, you’re so close. Doing so good. Can you feel how tight you're squeezing my fingers?” He hissed lowly, scissoring two fingers inside of you and then picking up his pace. The speed made you bite your lip, burying your face into the pillow you’d borrowed. It wasn’t too fast, not enough to overwhelm you completely, but it was enough to make your head spin. Your breath was coming out faster now, sharp gasps and hushed exhales as he fingered you straight into an orgasm.

His hand came to cover your mouth, but not before another too-loud moan slipped past your lips. You clutched at his wrist, silently begging him to keep his hand in place and using him to ground yourself in reality. He pulled his fingers out slowly, continuing to rub your clit until your eyes started twitching shut from the overstimulation. He finally pulled his hands away then, wiping your juices off on the inside of your thigh.

“See, that wasn’t worth all that fighting, was it?” He leaned over, pressing a kiss to your parted lips. His teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging at it gently as he pulled away. You followed him, curling against his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

Part of you was mortified. You’d never been touched by anyone but yourself before him, and the first time someone had made you cum it happened in a room full of your friends while they slept. Still, something about that sent another wave of sparks through your stomach. You opted instead to just bask in the afterglow of one of the best orgasms of your life.

It was quiet for a little bit as Minho stroked your hair, letting you come down from your high. Then a voice spoke from the silence on the other side of the room.

“You’re supposed to share your tongue, hyung,” Han spoke up, propping himself up against the arm of the couch. You looked up, mostly because you couldn’t fully believe what you’d just heard him say. But there he was, Han Jisung in all of his bed-headed glory, chewing on his bottom lip and looking at you like you were his favorite snack.

“Sure, you know I always share. Thought you were sleeping,” Minho said, still quiet and holding you close to him. “Let’s take this somewhere else though. Don’t think she’s ready for everyone all at once.”

He’d barely finished his suggestion when Jisung was springing to his feet, careful not to disturb the others as he moved. He reached his hand out to you, and you took it with a little hesitation, still thinking about what Minho had said about you not being ready. Still, a building part of your mind was desperate for this, your pussy aching with need despite having just gotten off. Maybe you were still just tired, but you desperately wanted to see what the boys had in store of you.

Jisung led you down the hall to his room, pushing open the door. Minho wasn’t far behind, making a pit stop in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before padding into the dark bedroom. Jisung turned on the lamp, telling you to get comfortable on the bed.

You tried to obey, but it was hard to fully get comfortable when you were so entirely on edge.

“She looks nervous,” The younger of the two noted. Minho nodded.

“She’s never done this before. Wanna be her first, Sungie?” He asked, stripping off the plain black shirt he’d been sleeping in, leaving him in just a pair of pajama pants slung low over his hips. You shivered at the way they were talking about you like you weren’t even there.

Jisung looked like he was seconds away from pouncing on you, his eyes running up and down your figure, though it was mostly hidden under the nightgown you’d picked out. He nodded.

“Yeah. You want that too, don’t you pretty thing? Want me to fill you up?” Jisung stripped off the hoodie he had on, and pushed the sweatpants that covered his lower half off so he was left in only his boxers, which weren’t doing a great job of hiding his straining erection.

You didn’t answer right away, your eyes still fixated on his arousal. He laughed affectionately. His voice was rougher now, rich with lust, but the sound of his laugh was just as sweet and charming as it had been the moment you’d met him.

“I think he asked you a question. Better answer him,” Minho told you. You looked over at him, eyes wide and giving you a look much like a startled bunny. Minho was leaned up against the wall, palming himself through his pants. You swallowed, looking back to where Jisung was watching, waiting expectantly for your answer.

“Yes, please,” You said quietly. Jisung smile, leaning a little closer and cupping his hand behind his ear.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught that. Can you repeat it for me, baby?” Your face burned red hot.

“Please, Ji, I want you.” You repeated, this time a little louder. The words weighed heavy on your tongue, feeling clumsy and entirely unsexy as you mumbled the words. You’d never said anything like that out loud before. The boys, however, were clearly satisfied with your answer if they way Jisung closed in on you was anything to go by.

He tucked two fingers under your chin, tilting it up to face him. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, smirking at the way that you eagerly followed him when he pulled away.

“Take that off,” He ordered firmly. The contrast between his gentle touch and the firmness of his voice made your heart pick up again, and you only hesitated a little. All thoughts of not giving in were gone when you saw the muscle in his jaw tick impatient. You shifted up enough to pull your nightgown over your head, setting it aside on his bed.

Having two men look at you like you were a feast all laid out for them did something to you. Your head tipped up with pride, and a wave of lust washed over you, dragging you deeper into the feeling like ocean tides. Jisung moved closer again, reaching out to run his hands along your bare sides. You were left in just your panties now, and your decision to sleep without a bra was brought to the forefront of your mind as he cupped your bare tits in his palms. Your eyelids fluttered shut.

His every touch was gentle as if you were made of porcelain, a priceless piece of art that he couldn’t bear to damage. His thumbs brushed the hardened peaks of your nipples, back and forth slowly until you were struggling to stay still under his ministrations.

“We don’t have all night,” Minho pointed out, his hand entirely down his pants now, though the way his hand barely moved gave you the impression that he was just trying to take the edge off as he waited for Jisung to get on with things. The younger of the two huffed, a half pout plumping his bottom lip as he looked at his elder.

“I don’t wanna break her, hyung.” He whined. Your stomach twisted at the idea of what he could possibly do to break you, another rush of wetness pooling between your thighs. He patted your hip. “Scoot up a little, lay back.”

You didn’t hesitate, doing exactly as he said and wiggling up on the mattress so you could lay down with plenty of space for both of them to follow you. And follow they did. Jisung kneeled on the bed, pushing your legs open so he could slot himself between them. He dipped his head, kissing along your jaw, down your neck, your collarbone. You closed your eyes, your fingers finding purchase in his hair as Minho sat beside you, his touch skidding after every press of Jisung’s lips to your skin.

It was hard to focus on anything other than the heavy warmth of Jisung’s mouth as his tongue ran circles over your skin, and the way Minho’s fingers touched your most sensitive patches of skin like you were a priceless gift to be treasured. Jisungs lips didn’t take very long to find their way to your tits, dutifully sucking your nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around until it was fully hardened while Minho pinched and tugged at the other. Once Jisung was fully satisfied, they switched sides, repeating the process over again.

You squirmed beneath them, your hips lifting up in an attempt to find some sort of friction against your aching core. Jisung chuckled, pulling away from your breasts with a satisfied hum.

“What was it we said about asking, babygirl?” He asked sweetly, pushing your hips back down onto the bed before returning to the achingly slow process of kissing down your stomach, his teeth digging against the soft skin there to hear the little gasps and whimpers it earned from you.

“I’m sorry, Ji,” You breathed out, “I’ll be good. Promise I’ll ask better.”

Minho groaned, his head dropping back at how easily you gave in to their rules. With his free hand he’d managed to push his pants off, leaving his hard cock exposed. You watched him stroke it slowly, losing all of the thoughts you’d been having as your tongue swiped over your lower lip. You’d never seen a cock in person before, and you’d always figured it would be nothing special, but the way his length curved just a little, the tiny bead of precum sitting pretty at the tip, it was mouthwatering.

“Go on then, ask for what you want. Show us how pretty you can beg.” Minho urged. You nodded almost frantically, and Jisung stifled a giggle against the spot near your hip that he’d begun sucking at, determined to mark up that silken skin of yours.

“Please, Ji, want you to touch me. Want you to make me feel good,” You begged, wiggling again. He laid a slap to the outside of your thigh. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but you did make a startled squeak at the sound.

“More,”

“I need it, I need you.” You sounded pathetic as you continued asking him for something – anything – more than what you were getting. “Please take me. I wanna be so good for you. Wanna let you take care of me, make you feel good. Please.”

You were too far gone to properly think about how filthy your words were, and if you had you’d be blushing up a storm, but it got you exactly what you wanted.

Jisung sat back on his heels, pulling your panties off of you and marveling at the way that the crotch of them glistened with your juices. He tossed them to Minho, who caught them and dropped them into the drawer by his bed. Then the younger boy was slipping lower on the bed, his shoulders nudging your thighs open even more. He dipped his head, running his tongue between your soaked folds without so much as a warning. And one taste didn’t do anything except make him desperate for ore.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pinning your hips in place as he eagerly started in on your pussy, working his tongue around your clit and sucking. He didn’t give you too much, dancing the line between not enough, and absolutely perfect. You were grasping for anything you could find to keep your composure, your hands moving from your thighs, to the sheets, to his hair, and back again.

“Jisung,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut. You weren’t completely innocent, but this wasn’t like any pleasure you could give yourself. “Need more, please, please, please Ji.”

He chuckled against your warmth, dipping his tongue through your folds again before pulling away to spread your pussy open in front of his face.

“Pretty little thing needs more? Wanna cum on my tongue?” He cooed. Your hole clenched at the words, more of your juices flooding onto his fingers. You nodded, your words melting into senseless moans on your lips. It would have been humiliating if you didn’t feel like you were floating.

“Gotta be quiet if you want us to keep going, sweetheart.” Minho said. He was standing up now, still stroking himself. You looked at him desperately, pressing your lips shut as he stepped closer. He reached down, caressing the side of your face before brushing his thumb across the seam of your lips, gently prodding until you opened up for his thumb.

You sucked gently, swirling your tongue around the tip of it until he moaned and retracted his hand. The way you looked at him, pupils blown wide, lips still parted and glistening with your spit, it was damn near pornagraphic, and he cursed himself for not thinking to grab his phone and record this. He pressed closer, tapping the head of his dick against your mouth and watching the way you instinctively opened up for him.

“Can’t be all noisy with your pretty little mouth stuffed full, hm?” He said, slowly pressing the tip into your mouth, his eyes shutting at the way you suckled on it until he pushed further into it. He was heavy against your tongue, his taste coating your mouth in a silent claim to you.

Just having them both touching you at the same time felt like heaven, even more so when the finger Jisung had been circling your clit with slid into you, curling up against a spot you didn’t even know existed inside of you. He seemed pleased when you rocked into his touch, repeating the motion and lapping at the wetness that he coaxed out of you. You moaned, the sound muffled around the cock thrusting lazily into your mouth.

The two of them were watching you intently, Minho stroking his fingers through your hair every time the tip of his cock would tease a little too deep into your throat and make the muscles flutter around him there. Jisung palmed at your thighs and hips gently while he fingered you open and ate you like a man starved. Your orgasm wasn’t going to sneak up on them, and the moment your muscles began to tense, the instant your breath picked up and your hips chased Jisung’s touch, he was pulling away completely.

The blissful heat in your body turned searing, and you whimpered. You had been so close, the pressure building had been heavenly, but now it damn near made you sob. You wiggled more, desperate to have his hands on you again.

“Come on,” Minho coaxed, pulling out of your mouth, and Jisung dipped his head again, his lips moving over the sensitive skin of your thighs. You knew quickly what you had to do.

“Please. Please please please, I need to cum. Need to feel you, I can’t take it,” You said breathlessly, writhing even more.

“Good girl,” Jisung praised, sitting up so he could line his aching cock up with your hole. Minho stroked himself, his other hand still carding through your hair as Jisung started to push into you. Jisung’s cock was just as pretty as Minho’s, though not as long and almost intimidatingly thick.

“Ready babygirl?” Gonna take his cock like a perfect little toy?” Minho asked, tugging on your hair so you’d look at him. You nodded, your hand scrambling to grip at his muscled thighs as Jisung started pushing into you. The feeling stung, and it was only partially offset by his thumb swirling figure eights against your clit. All the while they murmured praise your way, shushing your whines until you were filled with him.

Your chest heaved with desperate breaths as you tried to adjust to the feeling of being split open on his dick. You looked at Minho, watching the way he stroked himself as Jisung rolled his hips into yours, once, twice, three times.

“Fuck, look at you baby. Look how your pussy just sucks him in. So hungry for him,” Minho mused.

“So much,” You murmured breathlessly, your hips wiggling underneath his thrusts. He chuckled proudly, slowly beginning to pick up his pace. You nearly sobbed at the first feeling of not being full, but you didn’t even have enough time to voice your neediness before he was filling you up again.

You were having a hard time keeping your voice down again, so Jisung slid two fingers into your mouth. You’d never felt this good before, your mind hazy and your chest warm.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” Minho warned. You blinked up at him, having half forgotten that he was jerking himself off at all. Jisung carefully opened your mouth, pulling your jaw down with his fingers, and it was only a matter of moments before Minho was shooting his cum onto your face, most of it landing on your lips or painting your cheeks. Once he was done, Jisung used his fingers to scoop the liquid into your mouth. You sucked his fingers clean, moaning around them eagerly.

“So fucking load, babygirl. I knew you wanted everyone to know you’re our pretty little whore,” Jisung mused, pulling his fingers out of your mouth so he could grip your hips properly, tugging you to meet his thrusts. “Show me how good my cock feels, wanna see you cum on it.”

His words had your head spinning, and you didn’t stand a single chance. The thought of having the boys listening to you get fucked for the first time was too much. You came around his dick, and he didn’t slow down to give you a breath. If anything, his pace picked up as he chased his own end.

His breath hissed through his teeth as he fucked into you, driving your orgasm on for long enough that the stimulation began to sting through your limbs. You were trembling, and Jisung murmured sweet apologies for fucking you too good, his words becoming babbling as he neared his orgasm.

“I know baby, just a little more. Wanna fill you up. You can take it right? Gonna be my good little toy?” He groaned, his hips growing harsh and sloppy. You nodded, nails digging into Minho’s thighs. But it was worth it to watch the way Jisung fell apart. He buried himself deep into you, emptying his load and filling you up just like he’d promised. He moaned your name like a prayer, and both of your chests heaved when he pulled out.

All three of you were sticky with sweat, and both boys stroked your hair, your sides, your hips, dragging you back down from cloud nine. When your ears stopped ringing, you could hear their sugar sweet praise. Your entire body was heavy, and you closed your eyes.

Minho moved away from the bed, kissing your head, the Jisung’s. He stole a fresh pair of boxers from the closet.

“I’ll be right back. Stay with her. She can sleep in here, but we gotta get her cleaned up first. You made a mess.” He said, half scolding Jisung. He nodded, curling up beside you to wait, still kissing your shoulder and arm.

“Gotta stay awake love, just a little longer.” He murmured. You nodded, barely coherent but still happy to do whatever they said. And much to your relief, Minho returned quickly. He made quick work of cleaning you up, wiping your face clean, then your legs, and finally the mess between them.

“Let’s get you some rest. We can finish cleaning up in the morning, okay?” He sat beside you, tossing the washcloth into the laundry and stroking your now tangled curls. You nodded, nuzzling into his touch. On the other side of you, Jisung was fast asleep, and Minho grinned. His little risk had taken a much better turn than he could have hoped, and whatever persuasion was left could wait until morning. For now, he was satisfied with making sure you got a well deserved rest after putting on a show for him.

[eastleighsblog]

So many Palestinians’ lives will just never be the same. Even on the chance that a ceasefire is declared, which even that isn’t forthcoming, it will not undo the trauma of having your home destroyed, of having the cafe you dwelled every day destroyed, of your loved ones you had to dig among rubble to see one last time, of living in makeshift encampments that are bombarded by airstrikes day and night, of the sheer fucking trauma that came with experiencing a live genocide. Those people have seen things they never speak of—and still we have people chalking it up to “exterminating Hamas,” to “Arabs being terrorists,” to “both sides are in the wrong.” The least we owe these people is a free Palestine, but it’s far from the last thing.

[eastleighsblog]

I need everyone to understand that even as Palestinians, with everything that we grew up witnessing and learning about, some of what we've been seeing unfold in Gaza is still too horrific for us to bear or wrap our heads around

[eastleighsblog]

it broke my heart to read this post is by journalist yousef (ph_youseeff). he’s a cancer patient and he has been trying to evacuate for a very long time now to continue his treatment. his health condition has been deteriorating in light of the lack of hospitals health care.

PLEASE DONATE TO HIS FUNDRAISER IF YOU CAN

and please share this around. he’s 60% through his goal. help him reach it.

[eastleighsblog]

chat with ateez!

how to talk to ateez:

simply reblog this post and choose your member and theme. then send them a message with your pronouns and wait for a response sweet atinys.

themes:

◈ boyfriend  

◈ werewolf  

◈ vampire  

◈ yandere  

◈ badboy

◈ dom!member  

◈ sub!member 

◈ daddy/mommy/little 

◈ tell us your own!

how to get rid of ateez:

they will not be upset. just tell them if you feel uncomfortable or don’t want to talk anymore; you can always message them again if you change your mind. (apologies are encouraged).

disclaimer:

this is just for entertainment purposes and does not reflect the values of the members.

thank you for the inspiration <3: 

◈ @yandereseonghwa

◈ @ateezsanchatbot

◈ @atinychatlog​

◈ @yandereyeosang​

[eastleighsblog]

mutuals do this!!!!

[eastleighsblog]

Divine Rosa  ❢ot8xreader❣ 

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader

❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut

❣ Word Count: 8.5k

❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love.

❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior, panic attack. Sexual themes: hematolagnia, body worship, masturbation, bite kink, olfactophilia, voyeurism.

❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

❣Chapter 2: Wolf in sheep's clothing❣

Love is a word that deserves closer consideration, halfway between the dry hypocrisy of the dictionary and its deep sacral meaning.

What a strange feeling…

Love, both virtuous and vicious, motivates us to accomplish great feats yet also triggers the commission of heinous crimes. This mysterious and inexplicable feeling interweaves its complex structure within us, becoming the most unstable, contentious, and hazardous of all human emotions.

Love is the fundamental source of all our emotions and experiences in the world, both beautiful and disgusting.

Love has a multitude of motives, including the desire for control, submission, care, seduction, lust, protection, worship, creation and, of course, destruction.

The feeling is manifold; We can call this complex emotion by different names, including passion, hatred, obsession, alienation, objectification, mania, unattainable dreams, happiness, idolatry, spiritual unity, and possibly the most poetic of all—the second half of the soul.

Humans crave love from birth until death. This desire is inherent and everlasting. As we take our first breath, we unconsciously absorb the toxic essence of love, which settles in our lungs like delicate, silky flowers.

This need is woven into the very structure of our DNA, an animal instinct that inadvertently condemns us to eternal suffering.

Love exists as a palpable entity, often obscured by human perceptions of carefree happiness and joy. It can be likened to a lurking deep-sea creature, concealing its true visage, branching and moving under the thin surface of our skin.

She is as cunning as a murderer's grin, and she is well aware of the inevitable tragic end of every story she is about to tell. Though we may be in the belief that we have had a joyful life, in reality all our actions have been under the impulse of love. For the sake of this deceptive feeling, which unites us for a moment in the ecstatic joy and privileges of angelic ugliness.

In the end, our physical bodies will serve to feed the earthworms, to house the larvae and to nourish the roots.

Never again will they gaze into each other's eyes, never again will the turquoise flame passion between them ignite, and never again will their lips meet in a voluptuousness kiss. 

Love has the power to drive us insane, to blind us, and even to lead to our demise.

And yet, in life, it is possible to miss everything but love.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

 3rd POV 

I want to fill my mouth with your name. I want to eat you whole. Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems, and a Song of Despair

“You look pathetic, San. Don't you think so? I wonder what Seonghwa would say to that?” Yeosang lazily runs his pale spidery fingers over Yoru's silky black fur, looking with contempt at the naked brunette stretched on a pile of knocked-down sheets and pillows.

The rings on his hands burn with blood, like the eyes of the Devil.

San looked blissfully relaxed and languid, like a caressing predator. His golden skin seemed to glow from within with an otherworldly glow as the translucent sunlight greedily licked his body with its soft touch.

Still, there was something vaguely animalistic, almost primitively predatory, about him, which in no way connected him with the arrogant aloofness that was inherent in the entire vampire race.

There was hot blood running through his veins, making him even more dangerous.

He was unbridled.

“I don't care what Seonghwa says, if he says a word at all in the next few centuries. Personally, I would prefer that his magnificent body continue to rest in the coffin for a very long time.” A smug smile played on his sensual lips. “And unlike you, my dear brother, I don't hide my true desires.” A slow, almost lazy glance from San's silvery eyes swept over the slender body of Yeosang sitting in the chair, lingering for a moment on the pale pink patch of soft skin on his temple.

He imagines, not without pleasure, how, with particular cruelty, he tears it from the porcelain face of his beloved brother with his long claws, leaving behind a wet, gaping wound.

San hated it. His birthmark is indisputable proof of his connection with his beautiful Rose.

The sign that binds their souls tightly into a single whole.

He should have found her first that night.

“Look at you, Sangie. You act like a coward, hiding in dark corners and wandering in her dreams. Perhaps I could understand you if your wayward antics gave her pleasure. If our Rose woke up with your name on her lips, all wet and needy, so desperate for more.

You have to ignite her passion and her desire to be loved, make her feel special, and fill her with thirst and hunger for our touch and our love. All her thoughts should belong only to us. But how did we end Yeosangie? Tell me, huh? Our Rosa has an animal terror before you. Sarang is afraid of you. Isn't that really pathetic? You know, I can smell that sweet scent of fear on her sheets.” San buried his face in the soft fabric of the silk pillow on which Sarang usually slept and took a deep, slow breath. “So damn delicious… I want to eat her whole.”

All he wanted now was to feel her from the inside, so that her scent would stay forever in his lungs, merge with his blood, be absorbed into his skin, and become an integral part of it.

God, he is prepared to worship this woman and idolize her in every conceivable way. 

She was his.

Not in some figurative or metaphorical sense, no. She was his everything. A soul that fills the shell with his dead body, blood black as night, that runs through his veins, his thoughts. Every second of his life. San couldn't tell where he ended, and she began, for you were two halves fused together into a single breathing living being.

The beginning and the end of his life

If he could know death, which was no longer possible for him, he would be happy to suffocate on that heady aroma that was spinning his head like a powerful drug. And to do so until death takes him into his arms.

How beautiful would his death be! Silk sheets, roses, and Sarang are the only true loves.

“She smells so divine, Sangie; how can you resist this temptation?” His back arched gracefully. Under the golden canvas of the skin, the jagged vertebral bones were outlined, and the flexible muscles were stretched like tight velvet ribbons. The relief of his chiseled abs pressing against the bed, his thighs rushing up, creating a perfect s-line.

He moved so smoothly. A large predatory cat, draining gross sexuality and animal dominance. A true erotic vision, fringed by the diffused glow of the lazy midday sun. The smell of her fear brought out the worst in him and made him crave to devour her heart and soul, but he couldn't do it.

“You don't know shit, San. You come here whenever you want and act like a cranky kid, pouting and expressing anger because you couldn't get her first. What a pity, because I was the one who made the connection. I can feel her; I can feel her in my veins; I don't have to act like a bitch in heat fucking her bed.” Yeosang's voice was indifferently cold, so deceptively calm, but San could clearly hear the poisonous malice in every word he said.

It looks like he hit a nerve.

“You tell me you'd never been in my place, Yeosangie?”  San grinned, and on his cheeks appeared charming dimples. “You never could lie;you always spilled everything to Seonghwa like a good puppy at the first snap of his fingers. You should ask Wooyoung to teach you some lessons if you want to play games with me. We all know exactly what you do, so didn't be shy about it, honey. Do you think you can hide from Hongjoong your little dream manipulation, constant stalking, and night visits? Or how pathetic and pathetic you look, whining and wriggling like a whore when you come in with her dirty laundry, which you hide under your pillow. Oh my God, what will Seonghwa say when he finds out? You should care. Our good boy has gone to the dark side; he's going to be so disappointed that he lost his mutt. Although you know, maybe you and Wooyoung aren't as different as I originally thought. He's just as pathetic a puppy as you are, my beautiful brother, and look how that turned out for him. Perhaps you'll be the next one to end up in a coffin. I'd change my behavior if I were you. Bad boys get punished.” There was mockery and outright bullying in his voice.

That's right, they were family; their loyalty to each other was an unbreakable blood oath, and if necessary, they would be willing to die for each other. Blood is thicker than water. But the bond they shared with Sarang was different from anything that could be explained. She wasn't a missing part; to think so would be foolish. No, she was a part of themselves, a part of their dead souls, filling their bodies with a semblance of life. Something extremely more dangerous than any possible blood bond. A bond where the lines between reality and fantasy, obsession and morality, understanding and rationality were blurred.  And that bond was the reason, why Wooyoung, Yunho, and Seonghwa were still resting in their luxurious coffins. Iron, velvet, and crystal—so completely different, so frighteningly the same.

San remembers with pleasure how good it felt to drive stakes into their black hearts. The spell would be broken with a kiss. Perfectly. He hopes their sleep will be eternal. This time, it should be different. He will be the first, yes. San will be first—not Seonghwa, not Hongjoong, not Wooyoung, but him.

That's right. Everything will be the way it should be from the beginning. After all, he was the one who started it all.

Once upon a time, Sarang belonged only to him.

“San…” Yeosang hissed menacingly, digging his bony fingers forcefully into the soft feline fur, causing Yoru to meow painfully and curl up into a ball in his lap. His fangs bared, scratching his plump lower lip, and black veins trickled in an intricate pattern down his thin neck.

The brunette laughed and rubbed his cheek against the soft fabric of the pillow, covering his eyes dreamily.

The silk felt wonderful against his bare skin.

“You hiss like a kitten; will you show me your sharp little teeth?”

“You'd better watch out for your tongue, or I might rip it out.” The fierce gaze literally stabbed him. It burned and penetrated to the core of his being.

“I dare you.” The bloodied lips opened, allowing the pointed tip of his tongue to traverse the tortured, swollen flesh, licking away the blood that seeped to the surface.

“Let his lips be like rose petals - red as fresh blood.” Said the Queen Witch.

San covered his eyes and completely ignored the angry brunette. He loved to play with fire. It was his nature. If it had been Hongjoon or Mingi in Yeosan's place, he might have thought twice before poking the tiger with a stick, and of course he would never intentionally offend Seonghwa; the outcome of any of those confrontations would not have been in his favor. But this was Yeosang - airy and gentle as melting snow.

The shadows of San's long eyelashes lay in a lacy pattern on his heart-wrenching cheekbones. They were one of the most striking features of his appearance - sharp and angular - and they made his face a masterpiece. A creation skilfully crafted by the hand of a master.

Yeosang's beauty was soft and angelic, the kind of beauty one might see on the faces of the winged, plump cherubs beneath the vaulted ceilings of Gothic cathedrals. He had once admired their beauty so much, especially when he tore their flesh with his claws and tore baby, fluffy wings from their pale, soft bodies.

Such an exquisite, decadent taste.

San's beauty was of a completely different kind: vicious, dark and hypnotic. Chiseled like the eternally frozen perfection of a pagan marble god, every line of his face was sharp and deadly seductive. From the feline cut of his eyes, shimmering with silvery immortality, to the capriciously curved corners of his plump lips, always inflamed and soft, so tortured and tender from incessant biting and kissing…

San's appearance was sinful.

He was the most desirable of all nightmares, the special kind that seduces the girls of the church, then fills his bathtub with their blood and organizes orgies in the bloody pieces of their torn bodies. San was formidable and intimidating, but his aura was alluring and seductive. The terrible prospect of an inevitable end and death had never looked so appealing. Maybe he was having an affair with you, or maybe he was going to kill you. There was lust, danger, and rage. There was a delicate balance between horror and desire, as if he were the embodiment of both the horror and the charm of God. He was the man everyone secretly dreams about when they caress themselves before going to bed, in a cold, lonely bed.

He was the person who made you feel uncomfortable in your own skin and who made you experience a shivering sensation of fear that would spread over all of your exposed areas.

San was undoubtedly that person. Despite the potential for his eyes to linger on your skin, his presence was desired. Exquisite wounds, reminiscent of blossoms from damaged tissue, were created by his razor-sharp canines.

Death and sex were not enough for San; he had a craving for disorder and hot sensations.

He always wanted more, whether it was blood or pleasure. He never felt satisfied.

His sole desire was Rose—just her alone.

“Do you smell that Sangie scent?” San inhaled deeply again that intoxicating divine scent, resisting the urge to savor her flavor like a dog, choking and whimpering. “Mmmm, I want her so badly. I want her whole, every fucking cell of her body. She's driving me crazy.”

Sarang emitted a scent that was distinctly sharp and overpowering in its fragrance. Reminiscent of aged wine, it was infused with the bitterness of dark chocolate, the piquancy of red pepper, and the sweetness of roses. It tastes like sin and blessing at the same time. Like a slight saltiness akin to the tears she had shed, he longed to lick them off her rounded, flushed cheeks. The fruity sweetness of illicit fruit. The taste of his own blood. The metal and thick aroma of their sexual encounter. Thick as semen and honey.

San wants to have her. Wants her to love him. He desires his love to be reciprocated as fervently and passionately as he does.

His only wish is her love.

Although it is not enough for him to possess her love, he wants her to have an intense and almost sadistic affection for him—one that goes beyond what seems possible. He yearns for her to destroy him. Because he's confident in Sarang's ability to do so. He needs more. More than she could offer him, more than she could ever agree to. He is but a slave, created to worship her.

San's aim is to belong to her; he would go to any extent, even to the point of destroying the entire world, if that is what it takes to achieve that. The value of her love is immeasurable, and his objective is absolute.   She is the center of his life and the very essence of his being.   She is the haunting presence in his dreams, a seductive force that both seduces and tortures. The midnight idol of his desire, the serpent that dwells around his heart, tempts him to sin.

San craves her love so much, and that need is so painful, so all-consuming, and so twisted. If need be, he would kill her with his own hands, just to be sure that no one else would ever have her.

Sharing her with his brothers was like hellfire burning him from the inside out, but it was a paltry sacrifice he could make in exchange for her love.

This time, he won't let her go. This time, not even death would dare separate them. Saran will be his. She will be theirs. In life. In death. Forever and ever.

Soon.

It will happen so soon. San can't wait for the day when his Goddess is beneath him, in the cage of his body, sprawled on the black velvet of his bed. With his fangs deep into her sweet flesh, and she will screaming his name in a haze of ecstatic pleasure.

He would make her see stars. San will take her all the way to the doors of Heaven.

“San,” “San,” “San,” “San” over and over, until her voice completely collapses to a painful wheeze, until he absorbs every tiny sound she makes, every moan, every breath, every barely perceptible note, until all she will remember is his name.

Until Sarang whispers right into his lips, “I am yours.”

Soon.

In the meantime, San can patiently wait. He will wait as he always has, obediently and without complaint. He will be such a good boy. San will wait obediently, as he has done for centuries and centuries before. Until the time is right to pursue his desires, he will take all that he has dreamt of, and God will save the souls of those who get in his way.

Right now, he thinks he could die here — in her bed, surrounded by the lingering warmth of her body and her maddening scent. He would like nothing more than to show her all his passion and devotion and all the love he could give her.

He dreams of running his lips over her skin and tasting her until his whole face is wet and glistening with her juices. He will fuck her into oblivion until night turns to day and then drown her in tenderness, worshiping her caress-weary body as an obedient slave should.

Sometimes, he thinks it's not normal—the feelings he has for her. Such love simply cannot exist. How can someone love someone so much? Is it normal to hate the very existence of nature and the heavenly bodies for being able to see her beauty, which should belong to him alone?

However, these were only momentary musings until he regained his composure, dispelling any doubts. How could he even question his love? It felt so perfect and effortless, like breathing. How could such thoughts even enter his mind?

Her love was a life worth living.

It was destined since the dawn of time, when spirits roamed the earth, the sun was young, and the old gods had not yet vanished. She belonged to them, and they belonged to her. They sensed her first breath on their lips. He felt. 

Their love bloomed again—a blood rose.

Soon…

These fantasies drove him mad; every cell ignited with the desire to possess, awakening his animal predatory nature. The ugly nature of his genuinely depraved being.

He pictured Sarang biting into his neck and taking possession of him. She aimed at him as if he were nothing more than a thing, a toy for her amusement.

“Say my name, Sarang. Express your fondness for me and acknowledge that I am your only one. I want you to own me and claim me as yours. Say my name until it burns your lips. Again and again. Drink my blood, bite me to death; I'm nothing more than your slave, just a pathetic means of pleasure. Hit me. Hurt me, I beg you. I need it so badly. Please, my love, I am begging you to love me. Love… Love me so much until it kills me. That is what I wish for.”

His hips moved smoothly, grinding his arousal against the rumpled bedclothes. San moaned, breathlessly gasping as he found the perfect angle to satisfy his intense desire for release. He needs to cum; he couldn't leave here without cumming. He buried his face in the pillow, panting and whimpering like a wild animal possessed. His primal instincts demanded he leave his mark on her, to possess her and fuck her into oblivion until her belly bloated from the amount of cum pouring into her and her head felt light and empty.

His claws lengthened, digging into the mattress, leaving sickening jagged stripes as his hips moved uncontrollably, continuing to rub his throbbing wet cock against the silken folds of the crumpled sheets.

The sounds he made were almost heavenly.

Soft, extended moans that turned into pitiful sobs. He sounded like an angel in the throes of passion.

In his fantasies, San imagined drinking from her as long scarlet streams of her sweet blood ran down their naked bodies, staining everything red. How deeply he entered her body, seeing the imprint of his cock on her flat stomach as her neat, pointed nails plowed into his back into gaping lacerations.

His teeth clenched as he let out a hoarse moan, the sound vibrating deep in his throat. San needed to cum; he was on the verge of madness. The need for pleasure was more obvious than anything around him at the moment. The transparent essence of his arousal dripped down onto the sheets, sticking to his golden, wet skin with every movement of his muscled thighs.

His thoughts returned to the dark, vicious images of hot animal sex. A fine shiver ran down his entire body.

He will run his tongue along every contour of the intricate bloody lines, licking up every last drop. First, the longest neck-open and vulnerable to his insatiable mouth, then lower down the hollow between the heavy breasts, rising in time with her labored breathing. His lips would close around the hard pink nipples, scraping them with his teeth, making her squeal and gasp. Lower down her flat belly, where the flowers of his hungry kisses and hard touches bloomed. Until his tongue is between the moist puffy folds of her pussy, he runs the pointed tip along the soft silken flesh, plunging deeper into the tight hole where blood mingles with her natural sweetness. He wants to feel the velvety, wet walls of her vagina clench and quiver around his tongue.

“Sarang!” His voice was hoarse, and his hands gripped the sheets beneath him with such force that his knuckles turned white, almost tearing the skin.

He looked pornographic.

San was so lost in his fantasies that he had completely forgotten about Yeosang, who was still in this room, until he was reminded of it with a sharp, painful tug of his hair. Long, thin fingers gripped the dark, damp strands with force and tilted his head back rigidly, revealing a view of a strong neck with veins swollen from exertion and beads of sweat running down her

“Here we go, such a pathetic, stupid bitch.” Yeosang said it with mockery in his voice. His lips curled into a wicked smirk, and San could feel it on his skin as the brunet whispered in his ear. “Look at you, you're nothing more than a slut; where's your pride, San, eh? The great general of the dark army, the heartless ice prince, the ruthless Ripper, is nothing more than a drooling whore shamefully rubbing his cock against the sheets.” Yeosang's fingernails dug painfully into his scalp, tugging harder on the long silk strands the color of night.

“Yes, yes, keep calling me that.” His request sounded like a plea. All Yeosang's words made him move faster, almost in desperation.

The rhythm of his hips became erratic and uncontrollable. He was close. His teeth clenched as he let out a hoarse moan, the sound vibrating deep in his throat.

“Are you imagine fucking her, Sannie, hmm? Or what would it taste like? I bet the taste will be heavenly; she's sweeter than ever in this life. Oh no, I know exactly what you're thinking.” A mocking chuckle escaped his ruby-red lips. “You want her to bite you.” Those wicked lips pressed against the frantically beating pulse point. “Right here.” Yeosang's teeth sank with force into the flushed skin of San's neck—that particular sensitive spot on his neck beneath a scattering of pale freckles.

San's eyes rolled back in pleasure, his mouth opened in a silent moan, and his hips shook with the intensity of his orgasm. Thick, hot cum splattered onto the sheets, staining them with the pale, milky liquid.

The brunet unclenched his teeth, releasing the tender skin. The bite mark was wine-red, with swollen incisor impressions and drops of black blood in the hollows. A poisonous flower, tempting to know sin.

“Sannie, look at the mess you'd made. Truly a royal fuck. I always thought it was more Mingi's style.” Finally, thin but surprisingly strong fingers let go of the silken strands, allowing San to rest his face tiredly against the pillow. His whole body relaxes after the overwhelming orgasm. The entire pillow is soaked with drool and sweat, and semen cools beneath his stomach, sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

He opens one eye and looks up at the vampire leaning over him with a lecherous smile.

“Would you like to join me, my beautiful brother? We still have a few hours before she gets home.” The brunet rolls onto his back to make room for Yeosang in the bed. His fingers run along the sculpted curves of his abs, scooping up the viscous, pearly liquid and sliding it into his mouth. “Mmm…” A long tongue swirled around his fingers, licking up every drop with lazy, slow pleasure.

“You're disgusting, San.” Yeosang puckered his lips in disgust, looking around at the brunette sprawled on the bed. He turned sharply on his heels and strode away from the room;  to he pick up Yoru on his way, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, in his arms. “Get up; we have to go. Hongjoon is calling us.”

“You're not leaving the cat?”

The brunette turned around over his shoulder, meeting his gaze with San's silver eyes.

“June misses his darling; for our little girl, it's time to come home.”

San propped himself up on his elbows, looking at the departing Yeosang. His lips stretched in a satisfied smile full of devilish anticipation.

The time had finally come.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

1st POV

"Feed me to the wolves, let them take my flesh."

“Well, I'm glad to finally meet you in a more relaxed setting, Miss Ahn. Please take a seat.” With an elegant gesture, the man motioned me to a deep leather chair in front of his desk. On the glass tabletop was a silver plaque engraved with the name “Mr. Lee Taeho”.

“Miss An” - how sad and tragic that sounds. I never wanted to try out this role. I didn't like being addressed like that, because it was always Mina, and before her, it was my grandmother, and probably my mother was addressed like that when she was alive.

But here I am, the new Miss Ahn, and unlike my predecessors, I have not sought to carry the weight of this unbearable crown. I don't need the congratulatory ribbons and the wet glitter sequins smeared across my face.

Although there was nothing in the address itself that I could call unpleasant, the tone with which it was always delivered foreshadowed the inevitable tragic ending of its own and tasted of earth and chrysanthemums.

You're bound to end up as one of them; it's not all by chance, Sarang.   Don't kid yourself.

I saw the future as a series of predetermined events, especially after Mina's death. She had the arrogance to dispose of my life as she saw fit, putting chains of obligations and secrets around my neck. I buried her in the ground, and my days became nothing more than a list of dull plans, paltry hopes, and bitter regrets, as murky as the water in the city canals through which a coffin floats. Still, I couldn't help but wonder who would be the next Miss An when I died, or would I be the one to hold that title forever?

There are never any former queens. There are only dead ones.

I could feel the blood flowing faster through my veins.

For a few moments, there was silence around us, thick and enveloping like fog. If I'd felt any hint of confidence as I walked through the tall glass doors of Silver & Black LTD, now, alone with this man, I was floundering in my social insecurity like a butterfly caught in a spider's web. I resisted the urge to squirm under the gaze of his night-dark eyes. Beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

Lee Taeho wasn't just one of Silver & Black's most successful lawyers; he was also a devilishly handsome man.

He was built like a god. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, and a tight-fitting white shirt that accentuated his muscular biceps, bulging pecs, and flat stomach. The image of strength and power was completed by the perfectly tailored, tight-fitting trousers. The rolled-up sleeves revealed several tattoos on his wiry forearms—something in Latin that I couldn't make out.

His face was also striking, with angular, pointed features that would have looked strange and out of place on anyone else, but the luscious, perfectly sculpted lips made them something unimaginable and outrageously beautiful.

I felt uncomfortable under the weight of his scrutinizing gaze. He was looking at me like I was something special, but not in a sexual or romantic way; rather, it was the look of an explorer who had found an unexpected treasure in a pile of rubbish.

“I honestly didn't expect you to have any free time in the next few months, so thank you for seeing me at such short notice.”

To be honest, I knew absolutely nothing about Silver & Black until Soomin told me about them on the way here. Soo turned out to be absolutely right when she told me about them. This place was the epitome of the arrogant domination of money and power—cold, glassy, and sterile, like a morgue where the remains of all “happy stories” are taken.

I could never belong to such a place, but I could easily imagine Mina here, with her developing blood curls and the unemotional grandeur of royalty. People like my sister were part of that 'proper' society so suited to closed Sunday clubs and icy glass offices. Like all of her kind, Mina was a great predator, used to labeling people and giving them her own names and definitions. She knew exactly how to make those around her feel uncomfortable with just one look.

Some people have everything, others nothing. It's as cruel and true as the inequality of love.

I still didn't understand how Mina had so much money to afford the services of this company, but judging by how polite and “sweetly” the receptionist greeted me at the entrance, she was very much appreciated here.

Blood of my blood.

“You have nothing to thank me for, Saran.” He said that, and I looked back at him in surprise. It wasn't so much the fact that he allowed himself a familiarity that surprised me, but the way he said my name—as if it had always belonged to his lips. It was as if he'd said it over and over again until the intonation was perfect.

My heart beats fast in my chest, but I couldn't tell if it was fear or something else entirely.

“We will always make time for you. If you'll allow me to be frank, I've left a few free hours each day, just in case you decide to call me. Honestly, I expected it to take a little less time on your part, but who am I to judge you, Sarang?”

“But why?” I tried to gather information and put it together in a way that wasn't absurd. I didn't want to assume anything.

“Why? Do I have to explain? Maybe I just wanted to see you; you're a beautiful girl, and I'm a great admirer of the beautiful. He smiled, seemingly satisfied with the embarrassment that must have been written on my face. I could feel the heat spilling over my cheeks, turning them a painfully inflamed shade of red.

I had never been a girl with a 'cute' blush. I was more like a girl burned by the gold of the sun, pressing her cheek directly against the boiling, bubbling surface of the sun.

Taeho lightly drummed his perfectly filed nails on the glass tabletop, completely ignoring my obvious embarrassment at the situation, and continued:

“But let's say that this is due to the fact that your dear sister was a valued client of ours, whom everyone here at Silver & Black LTD sincerely appreciated. Miss Ahn was our special customer. All the staff will agree with me; your sister is impossible not to love.”

“A special client?” I interjected. Somehow, that didn't surprise me at all. Of course, it was only natural that Mina was always at the center of the universe. People followed the sound of her voice like rats behind the magical melody of the flute.

“Are you surprised, Sarang? Your sister has helped our firm in many ways, bringing us new clients and introducing us to the 'right' people, making our firm one of the best in Korea. She's contributed a lot to the development of Silver & Black. There was a strange note in his voice, as if between the cracks there was something terrible—a terrible secret that could change my whole life.

For some reason, I don't feel comfortable at all right now.

“I'm pleased… hmm, or rather, I'm pleased to know that my sister has done so much for you. Lately, she and I haven't really been close, and we've barely chatted. So I didn't know where she went or what kind of people she hung out with.” My words come out a little sour, and I press my lips together.

The lovely Mina, as always, is proving to be the best. I wonder if the day will come when she damn pedestal will be nothing but a pile of ruins at my feet. I thought all this time you'd been pining for roses, but instead you've been doing the right thing. What else don't I know about you, Ahn Min?

What don't I want to know about you?

''Yes, yes, she helped us a lot. Now let's get on with signing the documents, do you mind? I don't want to keep you any longer than necessary.” His words were very dry, businesslike, and in no way in keeping with the previous flirtation. Something flashed in his eyes—concern, doubt, maybe even fear—there was a tense tremor in his hands, and his whole aura changed, as if something huge and evil had turned its attention to him.

“Sure, let's get started.”

The entire process took no more than 30 minutes. I signed document after document, with occasional detached comments from Mr. Lee, which were completely at odds with his previous behavior. There was nothing special about the documents, except for one thing: Rose Hill. As best, I could make out from the extensive stack of papers, it was a small house in the style of Victorian England. It was in the ownership of a gated cottage community, the grounds of which were owned by a private company. It was all too complex and confusing to realize the meaning in the space of 30 minutes. I'll deal with it later, most likely in the company of Soomin and a couple of bottles of wine.

“Can I sell the house I inherited, Rose Hill?” I asked without lifting my head from the papers; a few more strokes and I could be out of here. The atmosphere in the office was terribly tense; my skin itched unpleasantly and tingled in places as if it no longer belonged to me.

“To my regret, I cannot help you in this matter. In all matters concerning Rose Hill, you must deal directly with the owners of the land; I will email you their contacts.” The smile he gave me was forced, and I couldn't help but wonder what had made such a difference in his change of mood.

“Okay, thank you.” I signed the last form and handed the pile of paperwork to Mr. Lee. “I'm done; hopefully everything is settled now. Can I get a copy of the documents, preferably today?”

Taeho cursorily flicked through the pages to make sure each one was signed.

 “Our administrator, Sunwoo, will give you all the documents. There is one more thing you need to get before you leave. When you leave here, go further down the corridor to the vault, and Bora will show you a locker in the storage room that belongs to your sister. Now, if you'll excuse me, my next customer is waiting, and I don't want to keep him waiting.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Lee.” I clumsily rose from my chair, trying to get out of this stuffy room as quickly as possible. The air felt pressurized, and I felt like I was going to start suffocating a little more. I needed to get out of here right now.

“It was nice to meet you, too, Miss Ahn. Please take care of yourself.” The look he gave me was sad—so unusually sad, like the look of a man living his last day on earth. It was as if the end had come for him before he could realize it.

His words, on the contrary, were a warning. “Take care of yourself.” What kind of lawyer wishes that to a client as a farewell? Was I in danger? Perhaps you were. Although that's true, it's worth crossing out the word “perhaps”, yes, I was in danger. Could he have known about it? Did Taeho know about the roses or the people who sent those awful flowers? Was there something he hadn't told me? A thousand questions were in my head as I walked out of his office.

Mechanically, I reach for the strands of pearls at my neck and twist them around my fingers, nervousness bubbling in my stomach. This isn't some worldwide conspiracy, Sarang. Wake up.

I think I'm becoming paranoid.

The door closes softly behind me. I'm alone in a sterile, shiny corridor.

In the distance, I hear a cheerful laugh—Soomin. She was definitely laughing. Soo is having a great time waiting for me to wrap things up. Even though she was denied my escort to Mr. Lee's office, she wasn't upset at all because the nice receptionist, Sunwoo, I think his name was, was determined not to let her get bored alone.

I could have fallen in love with him. He was charming and cute, with a sweet, heart-shaped smile that would make your teeth rot. He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, Armani Prive, in a thinly stitched pinstripe. I'd say he looked like a puppy. With those big, wet, shiny eyes and the way he struck the right pose when you told him to.

Yes, that was the kind of guy I fell in love with—the kind with a good reputation and a well-paid job—the kind who makes love, not fucks. They're the ones who make sure he looks you in the eye and whispers to you about how good you're feeling when he's caressing your body.

Good boys. Obedient boys. Sugar-coated like candy.

If I fell in love with a guy like that, Soomin would break him up like a Christmas candy bar and take a bite right down the middle of him. She liked that type—kind, gentle, and submissive. There had never been a lack of male attention in her life, but for some reason, Soo had always surrounded herself with this type of boy, like colorful toys. She wasn't afraid to break them because she could always move on to the next one. They never crossed her, nodding in obedience and jumping as high as she asked. Men were no more precious to Soo than broken crystal balls, shimmering but useless.

The corridor in front of me was long and empty, with a single door at the end. The sound of heels hitting marble tiles echoed in my head, and the checkerboard pattern on the marble was jarring. For a moment, I thought the corridor was narrowing like a rabbit hole, endless and dark. I was short of air, unable to breathe, and the oxygen in my lungs was as thick and viscous as swamp sludge. I clawed at my neck with my fingernails, trying to pull off the pearl collar, but I felt myself tightening it stronger. My eyes stung from tears and mascara, and ink streaks ran down my cheeks, and somehow they felt colder than they should have.

My fingernails dug into the skin on my collarbones, scratching at it with cruelty and anger.

I needed to get away from myself. To be separate from my body and the way I felt. The nightmare awakened inside me, licking my veins, working its way inside, and gnawing into my soul. My consciousness was beyond my mind.

I hear the sound of tearing threads and thousands of pearls falling at my feet, and I fall with them. I want to go back to before it all began. Before the pain, Before the roses.

Fluorescent lights flash like the tails of nameless comets on the pearly roundness of the beads. I see stars exploding behind my eyes, painting the underside of my eyelids with intricate strokes—the constellation Gemini. Nergal. I want to remember the days when roses were just roses, not home to the ghosts of my soul.

I hear a sound—it's pearls crunching under sharp heels. Under steel heels, like the teeth of the Witch Queen. 

“Oh my God, Saran!” Someone shouts. Soomin isn't laughing anymore.

Her hands are so cold against my clammy skin. She presses my face against her chest, and the feverish beating of her heart brings me back to reality. She is my white rabbit.

Voices, voices—there are so many of them. It's a cacophony of sounds and unpleasant cracking noises. The pearls keep breaking, and I keep crying.

Someone brings me a glass of unpleasantly cold water; it runs down my throat like a liquid flame.

I finally took a breath.

“Take me home.” That's all I can say right now. I want to go home, away from the world, away from the sun, and away from the memories.

“She's having a panic attack; she needs air.”

“No! I need to go home.”

“It's OK, sweetheart. I've got you,” Soo purrs, kissing the top of my head like a little baby. She pulls me off the floor with effort, lifting me to my feet.

I look down at the checkered pattern of the marble slabs and at the scattered pearls. In some places, the white slabs are smeared with red, like lipstick smeared by a kiss. This is blood. My blood.

My legs shake like a newborn fawn as Soomin leads me away from this place. Every step was painful, almost more painful than Soo's tight grip on my forearm.   “It's okay, Sarang, we're going home.”

It's okay, Sarang.

It's okay.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

“Are you sure you're feeling better?”

“Yeah, I'm fine now.” I squeezed out the shadow of a smile. Apparently it was useless; the look in her eyes remained the same: worried, with fear lurking around the edges. Fear for me.

“How long have you been having these attacks?”

“This is the first time. I guess… I don't know. Let's just say it's a consequence of trauma. I don't want to talk about it.”

“I'm so sorry.” Soo crouched on the edge of the bed, taking my hand gently. I was made of glass; she didn't want to break me or do the opposite by hurting herself on me. “It's so horrible that you have to go through all this, baby.”

“Yes, it is.” What else could I say? I could not have said a word, and everything would have been understood. The wounds under the bandage itched terribly. Long red marks stretched along my collarbones and neck. Mascara was still smeared across my face, as was the soft pink lip gloss. I looked like a mess. I was a mess.

My throat was all dry and thirsty, and my eyes were so swollen I couldn't even open them fully.

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight, love? We can watch a film or something; maybe one of those stupid comedy shows Mina hated. I'll make dinner and open the wine.”

“No need; I'll be fine. Soomin, go home; you should be resting too, not babysitting me. I'm fine, really. I'm feeling better, and I'll definitely get through the night. I'll probably go straight to sleep as soon as you leave.” Much as I loved Soo, I didn't feel like seeing anyone right now.

“If you say so, Please call me in the morning as soon as you wake up, okay?”

“Of course. Be safe, Soo. Love you.” I thought I covered my eyes for only a second before I heard the click of the front door. The mark of her kiss burned on my cheek.

I don't know how many hours I sat like that—completely still, not taking my eyes off the dark landscape outside the window, which was getting brighter now that a little moonlight was seeping through the thick clouds.

I didn't want to get out of bed, drowning in pillows and blankets like a pipe dream. I felt good in my bed. I couldn't understand what exactly had changed, but I could feel the change. Even in the morning, the bed had been cold and lonely, but now the silk under my fingers was warmer and softer to the touch. Even the smell of the blankets seemed to be different, like purple lilies and musk, a scent that remotely reminded me of something very familiar but long forgotten. Could it have been Soo's perfume? No, more like the scent that Yoru always brought with her.

By the way, where did she go? She was here when I left this morning, but knowing her talent for disappearing and reappearing at will, I didn't hold out much hope of seeing her today. It would be nice to have her around now, though.

I rolled onto my side, resting my cheek against the pillow. I didn't want to sleep, but I didn't want to get out of bed either. My gaze settled on the small box that lay on the chair across from the bed. A casket from a storage locker.

After my panic attack, Soomin took it away, since I was apparently incapable of doing so. Next to it was a neat stack of papers with black paint poisonously embedded in them, listing all the possessions I now owned, including Rose Hill, but the most valuable and important thing was kept in this little silver coffin.

The metal walls of the casket shimmered like liquid silver when moonlight hit them. I was mesmerized by this otherworldly glow. Number 0711 - Miss Ahn Mina. Sometimes a lifetime can be folded like origami and placed on a velvet cushion like a collector's item.

I struggled with myself for a few more minutes before I threw back the blankets and got out of bed. My curiosity outweighed my fear. At that moment, I had to remind myself that “curiosity killed the cat,” and if I had been any smarter, I would have thrown the box to hell and never thought of it again.

The box opened silently, and I felt a chill, as if someone had dipped my heart in ice water. There weren't many things in the box—something old, something new, and something blue—all like a wedding tradition. It wasn't like Mina. She had always despised the idea of marriage; the very thought of anyone daring to claim her freedom made her sick.

It wasn't for her, and it wasn't for me.

Weddings are gorgeous, creamy bouquets of fragrant flowers that breathe in the dawn. At the end of a long journey down a narrow church aisle, a handsome prince awaits with the promise of eternal love. As if. Girls, guard your hearts, for they will eat them for breakfast. Piece by piece, like a birthday cake, until there's nothing left to keep you alive.

Then there'll be another, just as naive. And then another, and so on, endlessly. That's all love is. A streak of devil's rubies and eaten hearts.

There was no heart and no love in that box. Just one little piece of paper with torn edges and a handful of precious trinkets. Just one small puzzle piece that had fallen out of a huge and complex picture. I could recognize Mina's handwriting from a million others, but the words written on that little piece of paper were not hers. In each letter lurked something that had never belonged to Mina; her hand had scrawled those lines, but her lips had never uttered those words.

“My only love. My divine Rose, when I leave this world, I will leave you everything you could ever want. When you read this, I will be gone. Everything has been arranged; everything is ready for you. The whole world will belong to you, my love. I took care of it. On the back of this page, I have left the number of my good friend. Please give him a call; he will help you with all the things you need. He'll be waiting for you. He is the only one you can trust, Sarang. Your beloved Mina P.S. Don't forget, love is eternal.”

I flipped the sheet to the other side. The handwriting was the same but so different; the letters were sharp and crumpled, as if they were written in a hurry.

Hongjoong. I had heard that name before. I knew the taste of it on my tongue.

My fingers hurriedly dialed the number; I didn't look at the time, and, to be honest, I didn't care. I wanted to make sure that he was real and that this wasn't another one of her crazy fantasies that would lead me down a blind alley. I needed to know that Hongjoong wasn't fiction but blood and flesh, intermittent breathing, and an unevenly beating pulse.

At the other end of the phone, the long beeps were interrupted, there was a static pause for a second, and then I heard the sleepy and so welcome sound:

“Hello.”

[eastleighsblog]

Divine Rosa  ❢ot8xreader❣ 

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader

❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut

❣ Word Count: 10.1k

❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love.

❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior.

❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

❣ Chapter 1: Memento Mori ❣

Have you ever thought about death?

How many times have you asked yourself, “What will happen to us next?” “Is there something on the other side?” “Will we see the shining light at the end of the tunnel and the white-winged angels, or is it just darkness waiting for us?”

We constantly reflect on this, sitting in the noisy company of friends, frozen for a moment in cold numbness; late at night, when there is no sleep and gloomy thoughts creep into your head; on the subway, bus, or taxi returning home from work or school, desperately understanding the desperation of their situation; recurring days in endless solitude.

We should stop doing that. When the time comes, we will ask ourselves other, more important questions.

Nevertheless, we tirelessly continue to be interested in it. Again and again, until our clock stops.

Sometimes I think all we have after we die are flowers and regrets. In our soul, heart, and mind, every second, there are many events that do not obey any rules of formal logic. All that we lose at death. There is no longer the privilege of choice that we had in life; now we have to settle for small, choking on despair and memories, staring into our own reflection on a silver epitaph.

“Our love will stay with her forever.” It would sound like a dream if it weren’t such a dirty lie.

I don’t think love exists. It’s like a sweetener: we feel sweetness, but the brain realizes it's fake, sending out red signals warning of deception. But we still desperately crave this feeling, however painful it may be.

And yet, after death, our lives go on, and in some special cases, we find ourselves more alive than ever before.

It's our time to watch as the new story unfolds, and the usual roles are played by other actors. New names appear on the waiting list, and celebratory ribbons are given to the new queens. See how fake diamonds sparkle in their luxurious crowns. Despite that, you’re the star of this show. Your name is in the news, in the bold headlines on the front pages of newspapers, and every casual passer-by claims to have known you personally while you still existed in a small, closed time period called life.

So what does it feel like to be the only spectator in the front row? The main subject of general regret.

In our cooled consciousness, a sharp conviction of our own uselessness is born and settles. Friends we used to call the best put your stuff in boxes with ribbons of tape. A family that tears the remnants of your life apart, erasing your name from the family register with a sickeningly straight line of black ink. Acquaintances and colleagues, always smiling with an astringent sweetness that glues their teeth, easily remove your number from the contact list and open their palms in a welcoming gesture to those who came to take your place.

All of them, all these people close to us, express their false regrets about your untimely departure, putting a tick in front of the memorized phrase: “Ah, we are so sorry. She was young and beautiful.” Is that what they usually say?

That’s all; our race for popularity is over. The rules of good manners and standards of appearance no longer matter. Your thoughts, actions, and preferences belong only to you, and at this very moment, we feel freedom. Short time, but still freedom.

It is only a short moment until the lid of the coffin closes completely over us. And here we are, face to face with our past, alone.

As hard as it may be for us to admit it, it's true. All that remains for us after death is regret.

Each of us has our own. Someone feels regret for the love that he could not protect and the loved ones that he has lost forever. We regret the things we’ve done and the words we haven’t said, but most of all, we regret the time we’ll never get back.

The dead mourn more than the living.

Besides regrets, we’re taking flowers with us. Yes, these beautiful creatures are leaving with us to one day wrap around our bones, sever the grayish subtlety of our skin, and grow again above the ground, eating us like a parasite. 

The flowers also symbolize the grand finale of our celebration. When the music dies down and the curtain falls, they will be the only ones who will stay side by side while the guests leave the lavishly decorated hall one by one.

Have you noticed how many bouquets are brought to cemeteries?

I like to think of it as a peculiar payment for our rest. Maybe death is as in love with these deliciously fragile things as we are, and that’s why they’re leaving with us. Silent companions who hold our hand as we go into the darkness.

The path to the origins of the great Sanzu River is paved with bloody lycoris and mournful lilies. Truly a magnificent sight. Ugly and beautiful are two sides of the same coin.

When I was little, Mina told me many different stories. Some warmed my cheeks and stretched my lips in a happy smile; others were gray, like days with incessant downpours. I wrapped myself in blankets and warmed my palms with warm cups of herbal tea, but there were other stories that I didn't want to remember until now.

They were sinister, like a spider hovering on a web waiting to be sacrificed. The words were sharp; they pierced the skin, leaving long, stinging wounds. Meaning has always been terrible; like a blade in the tongue, it could not be swallowed and understood. I was afraid. I was scared to death. I could not sleep in the light of a bright day or in the mist of a starry night; in the coziness of the blankets, there was no warmth or protection, and the mocking laughter of Mina made it worse.

My grandmother scolded her and assured me that all this was nonsense, empty words, and legends formed from idleness, but I knew better. There was truth in Mina's stories, and the realization of this only made them scarier.

The most terrible of them was the story of a young man in black silk robes. Beneath the black veil was a sensual smile, and the fox's heterochromic eyes were alluring and sparkling like stars.

Was he a nine-tailed kumiho? A black reaper holding death itself on a leash? He may have been a vampire, desperate and thirsty, but personally, I was sure he was a ghost. A past woven into a single canvas, thread by thread, stitch by stitch. I think I saw him once, during the Lunar Festival. He was the center of my little universe, the otherworldly and inexplicable, his long black clothes flowing to the ground like a waterfall, and the diffused light of the treacherous moon embraced his silhouette like a caring mother’s embrace.

I thought the world was dancing around him. The children were running around laughing and circling like butterflies in the round dance; the couple were whispering nicely, their palms intertwined tightly, as if it would save them from the inevitable parting; and the others were simply enjoying the festival time, waiting for the sheaves of colorful fireworks to explode in the sky.

His eyes pierced my figure so greedily and sharply. I saw hunger in them. A thirst. A goal. 

And then I screamed. So loud and disgusting in a childish way. With a shrill screech, I rushed into the crowd, hoping to find Mina. The colorful ribbons in my hair rushed into the air, and the wind bore me the echoes of his sweet laughter.

He was mocking me. I could have run, but he could have caught me in a second if he wanted to. For a moment, I looked back to make sure that he was still standing there, covered with moonlight and a myriad of stars, but the long, flowing silk of his black robes melted like a mist in the night without leaving a trace.

Mina laughed mockingly as I clung to the lush skirts of her violaceous hanbok, sobbing, choking with tears, and pointing my finger in the direction where I saw the young man with the fox’s eyes.

After that incident, I didn’t sleep for days, couldn’t eat, and was afraid of every noise.

From that night on, I began to believe in ghosts. They are among us. We can see them, reach them, and hear their whispering voices. Science cannot explain them; they are not subject to it. They are mistakenly called fictions, twisted forms of memories that acquire real outlines and are indistinguishable from the real world.

Science calls it imagination; I call it another form of life. Ghosts exist. They’re always there.

The line between the dead and the living is thin and fragile. If you push it a little harder, it’ll shatter.

It’s true—life after death exists.

I was told once that death is like being submerged in water. First, the lungs start to burn from a lack of oxygen; the body gets heavier; the eyes are baking, but we’re still conscious; and the brain continues to function. Then comes the next step. Our body desperately clings to life, continuing to contract the heart muscle. Bam, bam, bam. Deaf blows on the rib. If you start acting now, there is little hope of salvation. No more than a minute. And then, after that, there’s the final stage. Clinical death. Smooth stripe on the monitor.

Our sinking is over. We have reached the bottom. We have met eternity in the muddy depths, blended with the muddy sand and pearls.

That may be true, but for me, death is no more than a moment—until the last flowers on the grave fade.

I never thought about dying. Until it happens to Mina.

The first time I met death, it was with my first breath. I was born with silence—too small, too fragile, and painfully quiet.

Then there were the piercing sounds of medical devices and the screams of doctors and assistants. I was taken away instantly and carried far into the sterile, transparent box. Death retreated, but it didn’t go away.

I was only three when my parents died. Mina was squeezing my hands and talking about a long journey. Grandma took us to her old country house, where secrets were hidden and hyacinths blossomed. At the time, the very concept of grief was not clear and tangible to me; rather, the feeling was like frostbite, when the skin was already dead, but the pain was absent.

So I knew death before I even knew it.

My grandmother died suddenly. Her life was cut short in an instant, like a thread brought to the flame. I knew it; it seemed long before it happened. That summer, I was going to be at a ballet camp, and Mina was the star of the school, and she was planning on spending time with her cheerleading friends. Just one call changed all our plans. Short skirts and ballet points replaced chrysanthemums and black ribbons. Mina was grieving, taking condolences, while I watched from the sidelines. Grandma's leaving seemed like a dull pain from an old injury rather than a sharp cut, and it was easier to deal with than I thought.

This was the third time I'd known death.

And then Mina happened.

The passionate, bloody, grandiose Mina's death. By closing my eyes, I could see her face again. White, sun-drenched, and blood roses, her long fluttering eyelashes, and scattered carmine strands of hair.

She was not at all afraid to die, as if this scenario had been memorized by her. Isn't it an innate instinct, a fear of the unknown, of death? We are frightened by monsters under the bed and horrors lurking in dark corners. We must be afraid of death. We are obliged to do this from the very moment we are born.

Mina was not afraid. She was never afraid of anything, unlike me.

Spiders, darkness, roses…

The list goes on.

When she died, I realized two things: one, nothing lasts forever, and two, I wanted to know what happened to my sister and what became her trigger. Big red button. At my request, an autopsy was conducted to rule out a drug-induced hypothesis that could have caused mental and emotional distress. Forensics found nothing in her lungs except rose petals. Mina literally breathed flowers. It sounded almost fantastical to me. Even her death was beautiful. Forever the first violin in the orchestra. 

The case of her mysterious disappearance was closed. There was no point in looking for someone who was already dead. I asked the detectives to continue the investigation, but despite my desperate pleas, the police were adamant. My sister’s once-radiant life was packaged in a pair of cardboard boxes with a large-scale signature in black marker. “An Mina, case 117”. With each passing day, everything about Mina sank into darkness, but the mysteries and secrets around her only grew larger.

Once upon a time, I could call Mina an open book. It was easy to read—all the emotions, character traits, and habits—everything in it was exaggerated; there was no middle. Her love was never a simple hobby; it was always sharp, risky, and passionate.

Perhaps that is why she so easily fell into an obsession with roses; her feelings took a dangerous path.

I wanted to know who gave her these fabulous roses, who sent her candy and little sweet notes. There was something wrong with all of this, and not just the fact that the lush pink buds didn’t fade. No. It was a feeling, something very ominous, like a calm before a hurricane. A frightening, unnatural silence when all is silent and the air is gathering in front of the thunder's stunning storms.

There’s a long, unrequited tranquility on the other side of the phone line.

In the Japanese language, there is the expression “koi no yokan,” which literally means the feeling of inevitable love for the person you first met. This is not love at first sight, but a premonition of future love. So it was with these roses; they were not evil as such, but they were the inevitable omen of his coming.

True evil does not come in the form of a little red man with sharp horns and a long tail. Evil is beautiful—almost religiously magnificent. His appearance is divine and seductive, attracting the sweetness of the forbidden. Of course, the Devil himself was once an angel. And not just anyone; he was God’s favorite.

So are these flowers. I’ve never heard of people falling in love with soft petals and spiny stems. No one ever sings strange prayers for roses and dedicates his life to them without a trace. Those roses were bigger than they looked.

I think that Mina’s death was not accidental; it wasn’t suicide. Something broke her, violated her mind, and eventually destroyed her. Whether they were roses or people who gave them, that was my question. It was a secret hidden in the white folds of her lace dress, the dreamy smiles, and the names she spoke with such awe.

During Mina's funeral, I was approached by one of the lawyers who handled her legal affairs. I had to sort out the property rights and the lots of pages with numbers, dates, and places. Mina left me not only secrets but also a great legacy. As it turned out, in addition to our common apartment, she had several other assets in her possession, including her grandmother's mansion, which at one time she received as a sole inheritance, shares in various companies, and investments abroad.

I am now the sole owner of all this.

I had no idea where to start looking for answers or where to find the keys to the secret locks. Maybe I can find something in her files between the lines and the capital letters, or maybe it’s all dry formalities. So, going to the lawyer sounded like a good start to me.

How many can hide from those who command our last will?

Even so, I didn't want to be alone with Mina's secrets if I could find something in her belongings. I decided to call Soomin, who was once Mina’s best friend, the closest, to be exact. She was always there, having fun and crying with Mina, supporting and comforting when needed. Soomin was an integral part of her life. My life.

After the incident with the roses, they split up, not on the best of terms. Their conversation completely ended, but I still continued to spend time with her, and we often went to brunch at various gourmet cafés that Soomin loved so much. She was an elite restaurateur and had great taste, not only in the interior but also in food.

In a way, she completely replaced my sister. Soomin always told me, “No orgasm can ever match a stunningly cooked fondant au chocolat”. Yeah, I could totally agree with her on that.

After dialing her number, I waited for an answer. The wait was not too long, and after the second tone, I heard the melodic voice of Soomin on the other side. “Hello” “Soomin, I'm sorry to distract you from work; can you give me a few minutes?

“Sarang? I can’t believe you finally called me. How are you feeling, honey? I’ve been really worried about you, you haven’t spoken to any of us all this time.” In her voice, there was a sincere concern that resembled a mother's. 

Soo has always been so caring and gentle. In her was the same fascinating brightness that Mina possessed, which brought them very close and became the strong foundation of their friendship, but unlike Mina, who resembled a raging forest fire, Soomin was a comforting flame of home. One was ready to destroy everything around her; the other collected ashes in beautiful vases and kept them as precious memories.

After Mina died, she was there for me when I especially needed support.

“Sorry, Soomin, I’m still trying to get over it." I sounded exhausted, even to myself. The days spent in voluntary isolation completely drained me emotionally and physically. I was the alarm of danger light for my friends. “You know, when she went missing, it was hard for me, but I was still hoping she’d come back. I convinced myself that Mina was fine and that she was enjoying life surrounded by her favorite roses.” It was the first time I had spoken openly about my feelings since Mina’s death. “I never imagined that my sister would slit her throat in front of me. I still have nightmares, Soomin, but I’m calling you for another reason, I have a little favor to ask you.”

“Sarang, you should feel like this; it’s okay. What happened to Mina traumatized you; damn it, it would have traumatized anyone if they were you. We agreed to give you time to get over it at your own pace, but when you didn’t answer our messages and calls, we started to worry. Eun Jung even offered to come to you several times; you know how she is.” She was anxious, and I understood why. “I’ll help with everything I need; just tell me how I can do it.”

“You agree too quickly, Soo.”

“Sarang, please stop. The only thing I can offer you now is my help. I can’t imagine how you’re handling all this, and if you need my help, I’ll be there for you. So stop denying me and tell me what you wanted to ask.”

“Do you remember Mina’s lawyer who approached me at the funeral? I think it’s time I met him. It’s all about inheritance and property, but there’s something else.” I started off insecure. “I want to find out who sent her those stupid roses.”

“Why?” in her voice sounded like sincere surprise. “If you were me, would you want to know how it all started?”

“Probably, but aren't you afraid? Judging by how it turned out for Mina,” she stammered for a second. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“No, you’re right. Absolutely. I’m scared, and if things weren’t so messed up, maybe I would have done something different, but listen, Soomin, I have a strong feeling that I’m always missing something, and it’s bothering me.” “People don't change so dramatically, and certainly not because of the roses. You've been friends with her for so long, so you know her as well as I do, and we both understand that it's crazy to give up everything in your life for roses like that. Especially for Mina.” When I spoke my thoughts out loud, I was even more convinced that I needed answers. It really was crazy. “ She left so many secrets that I want to find a clue. I haven't told anyone, but the roses are still being sent. I received a call from the cemetery administration saying that her grave was littered with flowers, and they needed to figure out what to do with them. Not only that, but I also received several bouquets.” There was no point in hiding it anymore. If I want Soomin to help me, she needs to know about those roses that were sent to me.

“My God, Sarang, you should have told me right away. Did you talk to JiHo? This is an abnormal situation. What if you’re being chased, Sarang? I don’t know, it’s all so scary.”

“You have no idea, but I don’t think we should talk about stalking.”

“Why? Maybe it’s a stalker or serial killer; you should be careful. Please tell me JiHo is living with you now.” “First, I don’t think anyone in their right mind is going to come after me, and second, JiHo and I took a pause.”

“Did you break up?” she asked with an incredulous echo.

“I'm not sure if you can call it a breakup.”

“God, the bastard left you. I always told you he was a rare asshole and would run away at the first opportunity.”

“Soomin, let’s not talk about it, but if you want to hear it, yeah, you were right about him.” The memories of our conversation with my ex were still fresh and festering in my mind like a ball of worms.

It’s very convenient to hide behind phrases like “let’s take a break,” “you need time to figure things out,” “emotional vacation,” etcetera. No one wants to be a part of your grief. At this party, the cake belongs entirely to you.

“Okay, let’s close the JiHo thing. Tell me, do you know anything about who sent the roses? Any ideas?”

“Absolutely nothing; I’m stuck. There’s nothing that can help. No address, no sender’s name, Maybe we can find something in her files or stuff; I don’t know.”

“Yes, it’s possible. When do you want to go to a lawyer?”

“This Friday, if you’re free?”

“Give me a minute,” the papers rustled on the other side, Soomin clearly trying to find the day she needed in her diary. Knowing the nature of Soo, it was difficult to make out anything there; her records were always chaotic, and careful planning was not her forte. In this, too, she was similar to Mina.

“I’m totally free. How about going to brunch first and then to the lawyer?

You could use some fun, and I’ve always wanted to go to this new trending place. I hear they serve incredible fondant au chocolate, and the owner looks like God cut him out. How does that sound? “First, tell me, are we going there for the fondant or the owner?”

“You can’t judge me; everyone’s talking about how attractive this man is; I just want to see.” Soo softly dissipated.

“Have you betrayed your love of chocolate for a man? Kim Soomin is something new. Anyway, everything sounds great. Let’s go and see if those rumors are true, but if I were going there solely for the chocolate,” I smiled at that thought. I’ve really been lacking in communication lately. We should start coming back to the real world. “Do you know the address?” “Sure, I’ll pick you up at 11:00. Please wear something prettier than a black dress.” “It’s a classic, and thank you again, Soo.”

“You have nothing to thank me for, Sarang. Finally, I can call you like that, you know, Rosa, it doesn’t suit you. I’ll see you Friday, baby.”

“I think so, too. Until Friday.” I put the phone aside, taking a deep breath. The long stems of white roses had folded in half in the cramped bin. A luxurious wrapping in a rare shade of Solferino and embroidered topaz ribbons lay next to the bulky pile, and a small note was shrunk into a perfect ball that was also lying in the trash.

Whoever sent those flowers should have stopped doing that. I’m not Mina. I don’t like roses.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

How quickly does the waiting time pass? We count the days, the hours, and the minutes until the exciting event we’re expecting, circled by a thick red line in the calendar, but is it really worth our time, which life has measured for us?

It's so strange; the days are like bottles of sand thrown by a restless ocean onto a flickering glass bank. I remember this one, crystal blue—it smells like strawberry cheesecake and summer heat. And this one, made of gloss and pearls, is full to the brim with grave earth and chrysanthemum petals. I like the one that sparkles with diamonds from the royal frosted glass; it smells like a lover’s pillow, and there are memories of the first love. There is another, very ordinary, and therefore the most precious—empty and at the same time full. If you open it, you can hear the gentle wind whispering your name.

My life is all about memories now. I’m just trying to keep what’s left.

The rest of the week passed unnoticed by me. Time, like the rapid trains at the station, rushed by, and I kept waiting to see the stop I needed in this incessant turmoil.

Existing in space is very simple when it belongs only to you. I did actions that were memorized to the finest detail, simple mechanisms that gradually brought me back to my normal state. Feed the neighbor’s cat. Do the cleaning. Go for a walk. Check the mail. Cook dinner. Ordinary things to take your mind off the colorful bottles on the shelves of consciousness and the endless cycle of nightmares.

And I also noticed that at night, time flows more slowly. Second by second, replace the glowing dial until dawn. And so on until the ruthless rays of the sun insidiously penetrate between the tightly woven threads of heavy boudoir curtains, and the golden shadow spills over the pampered skin like boiling water.

I think I'm allergic to the sun and, therefore, to the stars.

Maybe the whole world.

Today I woke up earlier than usual. Somewhere below the horizon, the sun splashed in the golden ichor of the predawn twilight. Yoru stretched out at the foot of the bed, warmed by tiny drops of warm light that seeped into the room through the window. Last night, she refused to leave, stubbornly ignoring my presence and my tender pleas to return home to her mistress.

Yoru was my neighbor’s cat, perfectly embodying all its best features: a slightly aggressive, capricious, and having a little bit of arrogance. Despite this, she had a strange affection for me and often stayed at my house if she was in the mood.

Other tenants avoided Yoru, considering her a bad omen, and it was not only the polished glossiness of her black fur; she always appeared where death later came. I didn't care; I've always loved cats, and having one of them in my house was a bit of comfort. I wasn't alone.

Sensing my awakening, her almond-shaped eyes flashed with the sharp color of precious stones in the slits of the eyelids—a thick amber glow, not yet warmed by curiosity or playfulness. Yoru tossed and turned, clearly unhappy that someone had disturbed her sleep, arched her back and closed her eyes again.

We could lie like this all day long, in silence and some strange harmonization. I’m sure she’ll get close to me a little bit later, calculating her every move, until he presses on his heart with a peaceful, relaxed purr. Unfortunately, today was not the day I could afford it. Soomin will soon be here, and I need to get a little tidy.

Shower. Food. Simple things. Jars of creams and neatly arranged lipsticks Are there certain rules of appearance when you go to a lawyer? What dress should I wear—a deep neckline or open legs? How decent?

Should I still look mournful? Should I wear a veil? Two months have passed; are other colors acceptable? What will he think of me?

So many questions were spinning in my head while I was going, and it seems to me that whatever I choose, it will still be inappropriate. The story of Mina was not a passing affair; probably everyone in the city had fleetingly heard about her death. One of my friends told me she was called “Queen of Roses” because of the flowers in her hair, and I saw the headlines of the “exquisite death” articles.

The black color dripped venomously to the floor with the long hems of the dresses in my wardrobe; the gray, like a mist, settled in the loops of cardigans and oversized sweaters; and the ghostly white terrified me with thin transparent lace and ruffles, just like on Mina's dress. The choice was not too large.

A jacket dress on a naked body made of thick matte silk, a little pearl, and a high choker collar with long falling threads, It was one of the old jewels I bought in a small antique shop. Vintage trinket in the style of Queen Marie-Antoinette. I had a whole collection of such chokers—some studded with precious stones made of expensive jewelry metals, others woven with the finest threads, like a skillfully woven web. Hard made of steel and leather, and soft, like angelic kisses, made of organza and velour. JiHo once said I had a choke kink if I liked things like that; maybe I did, but my ex was too “vanilla” to close his hands around my neck.

After getting dressed and styling my hair, I sat down on the couch and waited for Soomin to arrive. What should I do now? I was lost. Turn on the TV or read a book? Look at the news feed on Instagram; be sure to look at JiHo's profile to see his new photo. Does he miss me or not? Is someone else warming up his bed now that I'm not around? Is JiHo still wearing the same perfume as before, or has he found something different?

Anyway, I never liked his perfume; it was salty like tears and distant ocean breezes and rancid like decaying wood in the dense Amazon. He called them gourmet; I could only agree if they were worn by someone else, say someone more dominant and powerful. Maybe I would even find this strange, gloomy mixture of aromas attractive, inhaling it from someone else's hot skin and feeling with the touch of my lips a steadily beating pulse in the swollen veins on a strong neck.

How long does love last? Three years or more? For me, it's a moment; for others, it's an eternity. I loved him. It's true. Very strong and very long ago. My love did not resemble the indomitable elements or the explosions of colored fireworks; rather, it was the fragrant bloom of wildflowers and the scattering of stars in the sky. She was comforting, not passionate, and I wanted to see someone like me, someone who could comfort my heart and give me tenderness.

Tenderness and comfort alone were enough for me, but deep inside, I wanted something dangerous, something forbidden. I was devout, one of those people who are called “good girls,” but was it really me or the role that Mina gave me?

Maybe in the far corners of my mind, my thoughts weren’t as good and right as they should be. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself, but sometimes when I woke up from another nightmare, I was glad she was dead. Dark, reckless emotions made their way through my cracks; they were moments of despair as my anger lifted its ugly head and oozed poison and blood. My cruelty and hatred had the color of roses and smelled like chocolate. She had fox eyes and a seductive smile; desire flowed in her veins, and strangled thirst was heard in her voice.

In my nightmares, I saw not only Mina and bloody roses; sometimes there was a young man in long silk robes and a veil hiding his face. He's just a ghost; I met mine years ago, but somehow he seems more real to me night by night when he comes into my dreams without permission. He crept into them like a serpent-tempter into the Garden of Eden, slipping away at dawn like the shadow of two moons, hiding behind a door I could never open.

Unreal in my reality.

I felt the arrival of Soomin even before her long nails methodically began to knock on my door. It was as if the spell had been removed and all the sounds of the world had rained down on me in an instant. Yoru shook off her sleep and whirled around at the front door, waiting for an unknown guest. The clatter of high heels echoed in my apartment, slipping through the cracks of the door locks, and the thick smell of ambergris and blooming jasmine at night walked ahead of her, warning every one of her approaches. If I didn’t know better, I could easily have mistaken her for Mina. That was my sister once.

The whole world was just a part of her life; she was not part of the world. To be ordinary—what a bad form!

“Sarang! Sarang, open up. I’m here.” and in fact, her long nails caught on the dark wood of my front door, causing Yoru to bristle and hiss.

I was absolutely sure they wouldn’t get along.

“Are you awfully loud? Someone told you this, Soo?” I opened the front door wide, smiling softly. “I missed you, Soomin.”

“Don’t tell me about it; I missed that pretty face.” She hugged me, which made Yoru hiss again, attracting Soo’s attention. “When did you get a cat?”

“That’s not my, Yoru cat, my neighbor from apartment 1366, that door.” I waved my hand to the far end of the corridor, where Mrs. Lee’s apartment was located. “I like her; I don’t mind having the baby stay with me sometimes.”

“I see.” There was an awkward pause between us until Soo broke it. “You want to talk about… you know what.” She was worried about this topic; I could see it from the way she shifted from foot to foot, or was it from high heels? In the light of the electric lamps, the steel studs glittered like sharpened spindles from the tale of The Sleeping Beauty.

“Not now. Better tell me about this restaurant we’re going to.” Soomin was easily distracted if you changed the topic of conversation in the direction of a subject of interest to her.

I walked out of the house, taking one last look at Yoru. The cat didn't even think about leaving my space; he was already ensconced in a pile of pillows on the sofa in the living room. If she wasn't going to leave, I wouldn't force her.

“Don’t you need to return the cat to the mistress? She looks expensive.” asked Soo

“She’s a purebred Persian cat, and no, Mrs. Lee won’t worry about it; Yoru can stay with me for weeks before she comes home. This has happened before.”

“All right, if you say so.”

I shut the front door and turned the key, permanently cutting off my escape routes. Today. I have to do this today or my resolve will wear thin, and I will once again voluntarily isolate myself in the comfort of blankets and tightly closed curtains.

"And so, the restaurant..." This was the beginning of a long story that interested no more than random passersby in a faceless crowd.

“You’re going to love this place, I promise. Everything I’ve seen on their Instagram profile is so fascinating, but you know what makes this place really attractive? It’s the owner. Eun Jung was there last week, and she couldn’t shut up about…”

For the next 30 minutes, I heard about this trending establishment. “ Angels' Share” is the most requested boutique café in the last 3 months on all search engines. A luxurious café with exquisite dishes and a magnificent concept.

But most importantly, it is, of course, divine, and Soomin, the owner, was absolutely sure of this. Hundreds of girls lined up in endless lines from dawn to dusk, hoping to see him, at least for a moment.

On your first visit, the owner of “Angels' Share” personally serves you throughout your interruption there. Your name is inscribed in the book of exclusive customers in gold ink. Their main specialty is gourmet desserts, and if you are not seduced by the angelic face of the magnificent man who runs this place, then the sweets melting on your lips will do it instantly.

Full berries of scarlet strawberries in white Belgian chocolate. Mille-feuille with fresh wild berries. The devil's food is the most chocolate of all chocolate cakes, and, of course, the angel cake has the most delicate silk cream of exotic fruits.

As Soomin told me about it, she was clearly having an emotional orgasm. Her arousal was obvious, but I could not understand what she craved more: exquisite desserts or the sweet kiss of the owner.

“I think he's a real angel,” Soo finished her rant after giving a fiery speech about the unique beauty of a man she had never met in her life.

“I'm not sure if it's all true, Soomin, but you'll be able to see for yourself when we get there. You should not trust everything they say. You're too impressionable and trusting.”

We spent the rest of the journey in peaceful silence. This is the type of silence when there are a lot of questions in the air, but each side is not sure when to start asking them. I know she wanted to ask me a lot of things, and in response, I wanted to finally share my experiences and feelings that I had been desperately hiding for the past two months. Nevertheless, each of us remained silent, as if afraid to destroy fragile comfort with uncomfortable words.

When the car stopped, Soomin smiled approvingly at me, as if to say, “Go ahead, my girl!” She was good at it because she was also a cheerleader like Mina.

“Angels' Share” was impressive at first sight, and not only because of the long line of girls lined up in a perfect line and dressed in intricate clothes like collectible dolls on the shelf.

A myriad of flowers, lace, and feathers, pastel shades, and delicate ruffles—all of them looked like animated sugar fantasies. Their cheeks were dusted with pink blush, and their inflated lips were accentuated by a thick layer of transparent sticky gloss with a fine sprinkle of glitter.

Perfectly well-groomed hair is arranged in children’s cute curls or intricate hairstyles with hundreds of sparkling hairpins and velvet bows. The variety of their images was amazing, as was the height of their heels. This place was definitely something special if the girls were willing to sacrifice their comfort for a couple of desserts.

Or it wasn’t about desserts.

At such moments, I especially understood how much we needed someone else's approval. The list of items seems endless: he likes cute girls, girls with an athletic figure, pale skin, and big eyes; she should not be boring; my friends like her; she has long legs and a thin waist; and she is a certain height. I wonder if he'll use a ruler to measure me. Big boobs or a nice ass—which turns him on more? What will our first date be like? That's right; should I call him Oppa or not? Tell me what you want, and I will fulfill whatever you want. I will fulfill every one of your fantasies. Tell me about your desires.

Seduce me. Surprise me. Love me!

I don’t want to live like this. I want to be who I really am, with all my flaws and imperfections. I want to be sharp and rude; I want to be cruel and honest; I want to look as I want, without colorful tinsel and layers of makeup, with cellulite, stretch marks, and a little overweight. That may be so, but it will be me. Just me. 

The voice of Soomin ripped me out of my mind.

“I told you so,” said Soo smugly, purposefully heading for the entrance, circumventing a string of discharged girls. She was a lioness on a hunt, while they were stranded in colorful piles like scared rabbits.

If you do not pay attention to the girls, the exterior is fascinating. Gold, flowers, and crystal resembled the frame of a precious box. “Angels' Share” was positioned in such a way that the sun flooded it from all sides, creating around it a mysterious golden haze of sunlight and a dazzling iridescent play of crystals.

Everything was so beautiful, I won't deny it, but didn't the gingerbread house beckon the children deep into the dark forest where the wicked witch lived? Everything beautiful always has a downside, and someone knows how to mask it better than others.

While I was looking at the details, Soomin dragged me inside and was already talking to the host girl, who was checking the records for a long list of names. She also, like the girls on the street, looked like a doll. Her hair was long and shiny, tucked away from her face with an embroidered rim with Swarovski crystals, and her eyelashes were so lush that they touched her cheeks when she blinked. I would call her beautiful; she licked to perfection, which made it almost unnatural. She had a sweet, high-pitched voice and an overly friendly smile. Annoyingly friendly. 

“Please follow me; I'll show you your table. Since you have visited us for the first time, Mr. Yoon will personally take care of you today. Please enjoy your stay at “Angels' Share.”

YooA—that was the name of this girl—led us up the spiral staircase to the second floor. It seemed that everything around was carved from pale golden marble, with the addition of luxurious interior items and thousands of flowers—or, to be more precise, thousands of roses. Snow-white, cream, pastel pink, and soft peach—the whole space breathed rose buds that stood in tall transparent vases.

The sight took my breath away, and I was inwardly tense. It's okay; it's just a café, not Mina's apartment. You need to relax and not start panicking; it will not benefit anyone.

As if sensing my growing panic, Soomin squeezed my palm.

“Are you all right? You look pale.”

“Yes, it’s all right; there are too many roses for my taste; you know, it brings back memories.” I smiled tortuously in response to her words. I didn’t want to ruin her day; she was so excited and happy when we came here.

“We can leave if you are not comfortable, Sarang.” Soo still held my hand, gently walking her thumb over my palm in a comforting circular motion. “If you want to go somewhere else, this is fine. I can always come back here later.”

“No!” came out too loud. “No, I’m fine. I can’t wait to try their chocolate fondant. You know I’m here only for chocolate.” She said the last part with me in one voice.

YooA showed us our table, although it was more like a small loggia separated by airy chiffon tulle and pearl threads from the common room. I could easily fall in love with this place if not for the languid, enveloping smell of roses and the beauty of their lush, perfect buds.

“Do you think the rumors are true, and we'll see an angel appearance today?” Soomin leaned across the table to talk about the owner, not so obviously?

“I think you'll find out about it now, anyway.” I couldn't finish my thoughts, interrupted by Soo's enthusiastic sigh. It was a sound of undisguised admiration that she couldn't hold back, even if she tried.

The reason for her excitement was right behind me, and I had to look back a little to see what it could have been.

Of course, all the sounds of delight belonged to none other than Mr. Yoon. In part, I could understand why he was called angel-like. His beauty was painfully perfect, to the point where it became almost terrible. His face was beautiful—almost obsessively beautiful, like the face of a stone goddess on a grave. Surreal. The skin seemed to glow from the inside, like molten silver flowing through the veins. He had long hair—ashes, platinum, mother-of-pearl—everything mixed on a diamond cloth. One silvery strand fell delicately over his face.

Are the melodies of an angelic choir in the air, or does it just seem that way to me?

The more I looked at him, the more his appearance disgusted me.

I felt flawed and unsuitable, like a puzzle that did not fit the picture; my heart did not beat faster with excitement or sweet agony; I did not burn and did not desire it as it should. Between us, it was possible to draw thousands of parallels in a myriad of universes, and none of them ever intersected. Beauty is deceptive, like a serpent promising forgiveness. It’s the pain of a bittersweet injection entering our nervous tissue.

What do we know about them—angels? White-winged light bearers, without flaws and ignorant of evil and vicious desires, are submissive and faithful to their ideals and purposes. Silent watchers who look after our virtue. But there are those who are chained and silken, whose wings are torn out with bloody flesh, for they are sinners.

Their name is the fallen. Unforgiven. 

He was not an angel. He was one of them who traded the vaults of heaven for the flames and steel of the nine circles.

His presence was heavy, stifling, and sharp. Goosebumps ran through my skin as an omen of the imminent end.

I could have sworn that the second our eyes met in his eyes, the color of dark bitter chocolate, anger, and disgust thickened. So everything that is perfect collapses, falls, beats, and crumbles like the great walls of Babylon, kissing the transcendental peak of heaven. Like a Venus flytrap, his appearance was a clever disguise of vice and rot in a velvet cage of flesh, and this place is the very gingerbread house that beckons to certain death.

 “Welcome to “Angels' Share”. My name is Yoon Sung Hoon; I own this place, and today I will make sure your stay here is unforgettable.” The voice flowed like honey smoothly and gently, I could melt at this tone.

“I am Soomin, and this is Sarang; we have heard a lot about this place.” Soo’s cheeks were pink from a shy blush, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was embarrassed. This man was clearly something special, if he could make Soomin behave like a schoolgirl in love with just his presence.

His eyes rested on my figure for a second, and I wanted to shrink into a ball under this appraising gaze, as if he was trying to probe me and understand how dangerous I could be. It was only a moment, and then a smile shone again on his angelic face.

“I hope you’ve only heard nice things about us. What do you want today?” I wonder what he is used to hearing in response. I want you and your love, and I will accept everything you would not give me. Will you be my boyfriend? My husband? Will you give me eternal love? Judging by the expression on Soomin's face, this is exactly what she wanted to ask him, but she pulled herself up in time.

“I want to taste your best dessert.” As they say, kill them with your sweetness. Where has my self-sufficiency and t.” As they say, “kill them with your sweetness.” Where has my self-sufficient and confident self gone? Soo, this blushing mess was nothing like hers.

“Of course, only the best is for you. And what do you want?” All his attention was now drawn to me, and I had no pleasure. Yoon Sung Hoon is clearly not used to girls not falling at his feet like moths hitting the glass. Our dislike was mutual. Our dislike was mutual. “What do you want, Sarang? I would recommend one of our most special desserts: a white chocolate soufflé with candied scarlet roses.” Sung Hoon was smiling, but not at all benevolent; there was something mocking in the exquisite curve of his lips, as if he were challenging me: “Come on, try me.”

Roses. Those damn roses again. It always came down to these flowers. Were they my path leading away from the dark forest, or would they lead me straight to the crystal coffin in the tallest tower of the castle?

Instead of politely refusing, as a true lady should, I have given a crude, hoarse, and utterly evil speech:

“I hate roses.”

For me, flowers are as beautiful as the pain of a broken heart. You can call me a heartbreaker. What will your heart taste like? I'm so eager to try it. 

“My apologies.” Sung Hoon bowed his head, hiding his gaze in the lace of fluttering eyelashes and platinum bangs. With this simple action, Soomin once again made a barely audible, enthusiastic sound. “In this case, I offer you our signature chocolate fondant with raspberry jam and glass caramel glaze. Our clients say that he has a heavenly taste, so celestial that he can be sinful.”

Sung Hoon—there was something about him that disgusted me. His way of speaking, his appearance, his behavior—in general, every detail of it The most beautiful apple on the branch will always be wormy. I couldn't understand how he could charm girls in a split second, without any effort, as if it were in his blood—to cause desire and awe.

During our short conversation, Soo did not look at me once, inseparably studying every detail of the angelic man. If I make an incision in his skin, will the gold pour as befits angels, or will it be the viscous and black acid that Pandora once shed from her eyes?

I didn’t like it here. I didn’t like Yoon Sung Hoon, and he probably didn’t like me. How was I in his eyes—insignificant, puny, ordinary? Our dislike was mutual but totally unfounded; I just knew I didn’t want to be in the same space with him. I can’t breathe.

Guests always leave after dessert. I didn't want to linger, so I agreed to fondant. “Okay, I'll take fondant and cappuccino.” I looked at Soomin again; her thoughts were clearly elsewhere, judging by the bitten lower lip and flushed cheeks. “And matcha latte, please.”

“Of course, ladies…” With this phrase, he finally left us, and I sighed deeply.

“I think I'm in love, Sarang.” Apparently, with his passing, Soo’s brain has resumed active activity. “He absolutely justifies all the rumors about him.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that; he’s definitely something very special.”

After Sung Hoon served desserts and another 10 minutes of heated discussion of his appearance, our conversation took its normal course. It’s like ping-pong; the rules are very simple: move from one question to another, follow the theme, and don’t miss your turn. “How's the work?” “Everything is fine.” “How’s your boyfriend?” “You remember I told you we broke up?” “What have you been doing lately?” “Too much to do; I can’t remember, but recently I came back from Japan”, “Did you like it there?” “Great seats and great cuisine.” “How do you feel, Sarang?” Say it again; I didn’t hear you.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” Once again, you speak unclearly.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” It's so loud here, I can't hear you.

“Sarang?!” Can I skip my turn? I’m tired of this game.

I took a deep, slow breath.

“What do you want me to say, Soo? Something that will calm you down or something that should comfort me? ”

“Truth, Sarang. I want to hear the truth from you.” Soomin looked at me so carefully that it seemed as though she was looking straight into my soul.

My mind moved from one thought to another, not knowing what it would focus on. Truth. What is it like, this truth? She is like a beautiful, spiritually disheveled monster with a lesbian couple of black widows in an aquarium; she exists in an endless eternity of joyful decadence and an ecstatic nightmare.

It’s no big deal to tell someone the truth, but are you ready to see your own reflection in someone else’s eyes? They say alcohol is a liquid truth, but I think it's nothing more than a road strewn with bread crumbs, straight into a dense, dark forest. The more you drink, the deeper you go. Sometimes, through the intricately woven stems of condemnation and bitterness, subtle rays of understanding break through, like the light shed by the dual face of the moon. But this happens so rarely that the eyes themselves become accustomed to the surrounding darkness.

I’m still afraid of the dark and, therefore, of the truth. Now I’m sure I’m allergic to the world.

When I looked at the café, I noticed that there were many more people. Bunny girls with colorful barrettes occupied small transparent tables filled with all sorts of desserts; others, similar to porcelain dolls, put their palms to their cheeks, flushed with embarrassment, and laughed loudly, sitting in the same loggias as ours. The sounds of clicks from selfies and aesthetic Instagram photos did not subside for a second, as did the high play of voices merging with soft background music.

This probably wasn’t the best place for such a serious conversation, but was it ever the perfect place to have a heart-to-heart?

“Honestly, I don't know. Really?” I began, stirring the thick, fragrant foam from the cappuccino. It tasted like a first kiss—a little bitter, a little sweet—something that I would like to repeat again and again. “Secrets, secrets, and more secrets—everywhere I look, no matter what I ask, they only get bigger. Everything is as usual: Mina died, and the world is still spinning around her. Remember, I told you that they still send roses? I can say that soon the cemetery will start selling bouquets because there is simply nowhere to put them. Every day there are fresh flowers on the grave.” Maybe I sounded a little petty and annoyed, but I didn't care. “I may not seem like the best person on this planet, but sometimes I feel absolutely happy that I finally managed to bury her in the ground.”  Yes, this is exactly the right moment; you are not mistaken. That was my truth, like salt and pepper, like ashes, like burned dreams.

Soomin shook her head negatively.

“You shouldn't talk about yourself like that, Sarang; you're not a bad person, and we both know it; everyone around you knows it; and even that bastard JiHo knows it. You have gone through a lot, and if I were you, I would have gone crazy long ago, but look at yourself: you are here with me, in the noise of the metropolis, and you have your whole life ahead of you.” She put her hand on top of mine, and the warmth of her body penetrated mine. “Mina was who she was, and neither you nor me nor anyone else could change her. So don't let her ghost poison your life. I'm not a fan of this entire Nancy Drew thing, but I won't dissuade you. If you want my help, I'm on board.”

I laughed bitterly, taking a sip of the coffee that had already cooled. There was something special about it—sweet, ice-cold coffee, like long-cooled love.

“Yeah, you’re right; she was who she was, but I guess we were wrong about that because those flowers broke her in half. In fact, that’s the whole point of the question: where did the roses come from? She was interested in nothing but flowers and some strange prayers. She frightened me. You know, at first it looked like another love of hers; everything was as usual—she talked incessantly about flowers and admired them, but the more roses they sent us, the less she was interested in the rest of the world. Mina withered and languished while the roses bloomed. I've never seen anyone come to our house or meet someone. Nothing, just roses—hundreds of roses. You just can't imagine how many there were.”

“You know, I don’t really want to imagine it. Okay, let’s say you find something in her files. What’s next? You really need this? Maybe we should just let go, you know, scatter the ashes to the wind.” Breaking off a slice of angel cake, Soo mooed in satisfaction as the dessert was in her mouth. “Mmm, I love sweets. Who handled her legal affairs? If this is one of the free lawyers, we should hurry; the queues in these cantors are worse than here.”

“No, no, we're not going to a free advocacy team. Wait a minute.” I pulled out of my purse a small card from a thick black cardboard and handed it to Soomin. Transparent gloss on a soft matt surface looked refined and very expensive, just like the business card itself. “Silver & Black LTD” was the name of the law firm that handled Mina’s affairs.

“You’re kidding me!” She exclaimed, almost burying her face in her business card. “That’s “Silver and Black.” How did she manage to work with them? They’re one of the most elite law practitioners in all of Seoul, and I’d say across Asia. Their lawyers are real sharks in their cases; for the existence of their practice, they have not lost a single case, and the bills for their services are simply cosmic. How does she have so much money? Sarang, did you inherit her sugar daddy too? If that's the case, ask for more; you're much more expensive than a cheerleader, and nerds are always sexier and more desirable.”

“Stop saying that like I’m a whore. I don’t know where she got the money, but are their services so expensive?” My surprise was obvious. Our family was not poor, but we were not rich; we occupied that golden layer in the class hierarchy where we could just live without any worries about tomorrow. Mina and I were well provided for, but judging by Soomin’s reaction, “Silver and Black” could afford only filthy rich and influential people.

“If I were to be offered the opportunity to trade my virginity for cooperation with them, I would have done it without hesitation. Are you sure we have an appointment with them?”

“Soomin!” Frankness was always such a simple thing for her that I felt awkward at such moments. “Of course, I called them yesterday to confirm the details.”

“What? The cult of virginity is overrated anyway, but now I'm much more interested in it.”

“Let me think, more amazing men?” “How did you guess?” Soo smiled sweetly, shoving another piece of dessert into her mouth. I snorted; I couldn’t help it. "Hey, don’t laugh! You should also consider new options, since you and JiHo have broken up. Listen to me, little Sarang, nothing will warm your bed better than a hot big boy."

"Ew, Soomin." She just laughed back.

[eastleighsblog]

Divine Rosa  ❢ot8xreader❣ 

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader ❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut ❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love. ❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior. ❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

English is not my native language, so if you see any mistakes, please let me know.

Published on AO3 like FleurRi

❣ Prologue: Roses scarlet like blood ❣

 Every story has a beginning: a magical, inexplicable moment—an elusive contact between reality and dreams. When thoughts emerge from the edge of consciousness, a stream of colorless letters appears on the parchment of our fate, eventually becoming an event. Life's intersections, fragments of various plots, are continuously repeated, lost, or deliberately forgotten. They are like unwritten melodies; the echo of their angelic voices follows us through life, like the bright tent of a wandering circus that incessantly makes noise. is full of tinsel, and raves with dreams.

  There are millions of them. No. Billions, like the sleeping stars, sway peacefully on the sky-blue wire; their scattered light tells the wayward souls the way in the velvet folds of the night's darkness. These are our memories. Some are dazzlingly bright, as fresh as summer breezes, while others are barely flickering, covered in the marble ashes of time and a diamond crumb of emotion. And they all live so far away and at the same time prohibitively close together, there, in the labyrinth of the underground sky and on the endless roads of the blood rivers, where it is impossible to find them: in our memory.

  Just as a pebble thrown into the ocean sinks into the murky depths, so does memory. Drowning into the viscous muddy depths without a bottom, in that rich and uncharted area that we call “oblivion,” it sinks in time. And few of us have been given the opportunity to preserve living images of memories of the feelings we have ever experienced: to drown in the bittersweet water of sorrow and joy; to fill our consciousness to the brim, like a vessel with golden honey, with the feelings of pain and keen passion, and to die. Die happy. The greatest privilege of all.

  Seconds, minutes, days, and years—colorful fragments of time; sharp crumbs scattered under our feet. Unlike us, those who plunge into eternal sleep, our memories that have insidiously dissolved in ink in our blood will not disappear. They fear death, flee from it, and hide in the thick of the earth that blossoms with fluttering glass, forget-me-nots and drunken petunias that, in their intoxicating happiness, kiss the eyelashes of the blind God. You hear them whisper, “I’ll never forget you…”

  My story begins with an innocent question that I’m sure you’ve heard more than once: “Do you like roses?”

  Once upon a time, I would have answered, "Yes, I love roses." But, as it turns out, all our words are followed by consequences, and small rosy spikes can be much more dangerous than they seem at first glance, just like in the fairy tales that we were told in childhood.   You know, there are things that we might call fatal: people who decide other people’s lives as long as they reach out to them like they're God. And then there are the flowers, which keep the mysteries tenebrous and ancient.   I'm almost a hundred years old, maybe more. I should start my story right now; this is the perfect moment.

  I will tell you about who I once was and who I am now. I will tell you about love, which is akin to obsession, and the death of her faithful friend. I will also tell you about the people, ghosts, or maybe illusions that were around me. They were with me once…   Now, there are others, but they’ll be in my story later. They will come into my life with a chorus of angelic voices; the sound of a heavy autumn downpour, and the pretentious solemnity of death. Yeah, they’ll be there, though, if you think about it, they were always there, from my first breath to my last breath, by my side.   But I’m forgetting what’s important.   I have to tell you about the roses, and only about them.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

Mina's long hair shimmered like luxurious silk under the early morning light. Bloody strands fell in curled doll curls onto her bare shoulders, as if in Baroque paintings. The lush blossoms of white roses woven together in her hair made her look like the ancient Greek goddess of spring.   Her appearance has always been astonishing, blatantly perfect rather than real, but that was sometime in the past. Now she was like a pale ghost of herself, a blurry reflection on a black surface of water on a moonlit night. The only thing that reminded her of her former beauty was her hair, which remained perfectly groomed and scarlet, like blood. Oh yeah, there are still roses.  These flowers… there was something unnatural about them, something otherworldly. Each petal was painfully perfect, as if made of satin. But the flowers were real; they were alive and breathing and too demanding. It seemed that just because they wanted this, Mina could wear them in her hair. It was their choice, not hers.  “Do you like roses, Rosa?” · · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

This is the moment when my life changed forever. If I had known that this innocent question would be the beginning of my end, but can this be called the end? Would my answer have been different?

  I’ve thought about it a thousand times. Over and over again, I played this scene like a broken record, crossed my answer out of the script, wrote a new one, and made comments and footnotes, but…   But the answer was the same. I couldn’t change anything; it was destined. Much later, when I fall asleep in a warm bed, I will feel a gentle kiss on my closed eyelids and hear San’s angelic voice whisper in my ear that fate is never wrong. That they would find me or that I would come to them does not matter; in the end, we would still be together in life and in death. In eternity.

  I’ll come back to that later, I promise. In the meantime, I’ll continue. · · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

“They’re beautiful, Mina, but I don’t like them anymore.”  I sounded terribly rude from the outside, and I could see Mina’s eyes filled with tears, as if I had slapped her.

 “But Rosa!” Mina reached out her pale arms to me. “Look how perfect they are; don’t you care about their beauty? Doesn’t your heart beat faster when you look at them? O Rosa, these flowers are special; they never wilt.” She shook her head, as if confirming her words. “Yeosang gave them to me before I left” Her long, thin fingers reaching for the white rosebuds in her hair. “I want to give you one.” Hooking the flower, Mina gently pulled it out of her curls and stretched it towards me. I didn't have the desire to accept her gift; something in her behavior and her voice caused me anxiety. And there was this name: Yeosang. It wasn’t the first time I heard it, but it was a long time ago, and I still remember that Mina mentioned others with that name: Hongjoong, San, and Mingi. They sounded familiar to me as a song once learned by heart. She pronounced them in a special way: with a gentle intonation and an exciting euphoria. As if it had been repeated countless times at the same completely new to her.  All I could hear was the echo of that song, which came along with those names in the conversation. It was an ominous echo, like an impending, inevitable storm. Mina was still holding out a rose, and I looked at her hands. Arms with a faint web of blue veins that looked like dried stems of faint flowers. For some reason, I came up with the idea of sirens holding out their hands to pirates while their voices led them into the welcome embrace of death. Did they look like Mina’s hands now?

I remember these hands weaving long pearl threads into my hair during festivals. I remember the feeling of intertwined fingers as Mina led me down the dark corridors of my grandmother's old house. I remember them gently wiping my tears when I was rubbing my feet until I bled in ballet class.

I remember the touch of those hands… I know him. These cold fingers that so carefully hold the snow-white flower no longer belong to my sister. Their touch changed, becoming foreign and distant, as did the mysterious land where these perfect, never-fading roses grew.

Didn’t that sound like a fairy tale? Just in our history, there has been no magic mirror, no Queen-Witch whose crown shines like a star, and no apple full of poison, but there is a coffin of shimmering crystal, and a prince that sleeps in it. Of course, there are also roses—thousands of roses.

“Rosa” Mina turned to me again. “Please take them; you will surely love them. Just try to feel them…”

She put a flower in my hands. The drops of nectar froze on the wax petals, and the first rays of the dawn sun made them sparkle like diamonds. “This variety is special.” Her voice sounded soft. “It's called the Deva-Rosa. I want to show you where they grow. It’s so beautiful. I want you to come with me, Rosa. We’ll be there together, you and me.” Mina smiled dazzlingly, but something was wrong with that smile. The once-sensual kiss lips were painfully curved, the corners awfully lifted, like the forever-frozen smile of a Venetian mask, and the warm pink shade was gone.

I was always jealous of her lips. They were so tender, plump, and enticing. All her features attracted attention, but it was her lips that made Mina's beauty unique.

She shone like the sun, easily becoming the center of everyone's attention—a beautiful white swan. The main heroine of the story. 

Then there was me, only a shadow of her perfection—gloomy and pale as the moon, the complete opposite of the burning heat and the sexuality of my sister. Unlike Mina's, my features were not sensual and breathtaking; no, they were old-fashioned, like those of a porcelain doll. I didn’t find myself ugly or unattractive; just ordinary. One of a hundred million. The classic tragic heroine of a Gothic novel, someone like me, doesn’t make it to the finale.

Now looking at Mina, I can no longer see her life; her fire has almost been extinguished, leaving embers smoldering. And only her hair, like a burning sunset, was the only bright spot in her appearance. They crimson her white dress like blood rivers in the snow. 

 “Rosa, come with me.” The touch of her hands was icy and gave me a nasty shiver. It wasn’t Mina anymore. “Let's go, please. We can admire roses together. We can be together, Rosa. Remember what we promised each other when we were kids? Forever.”   Mina leaned towards me with her whole body, completely trespassing into my space, and with her intimacy came the suffocating, sugary smell of roses. It was a thick, enveloping aroma that instantly sat in the lungs. I thought that if I breathed it in deeper, these strange, unnatural flowers would sprout in my veins, intertwine with my bones, and create a new home for themselves in my body.

 “No!” I exclaimed, pushing Mina away from me. “I don’t want that, Mina. I don’t want you or those freaking roses in my life.”

  Suddenly on my feet, I took a few steps away from the pale Mina, who was staring at a rose that had fallen to the ground. Her posture was as vulnerable as that of a wounded animal, and her limp arms reached for the flower, which, surprisingly, began to darken and fade, touching the ground.   In her eyes, once radiant with happiness and dreaming, stood tears, and her lips began to tremble. It was as if a child whose beloved toy had been mercilessly abused had fallen to her knees, picked up a dying bud, and, in despair, pinned it to her lips.

“How can you be so cruel, Rosa?” Mina whispered, her lips gently touching the petals. “You hurt them; it breaks their heart. Can’t you just accept their love? Accept the roses?” She continued to kiss the petals.

 “What are you talking about, Mina? Whose love should I accept?” I asked cautiously. Her behavior began to frighten me.

 “You must give yourself to them, Rosa; I must give you to them.” Mina ignored my question, methodically kissing a faded flower. His dead petals began to fall away, slowly, baring his heart. “O Rosa, the rose is a rose; the rose is a deva; the deva is a rose; is a rose.”

 “Mina!” I called her by her name in an alarm. The entire situation had me in a state of primitive terror.   Mina began slowly swaying from side to side in time to your words, all the while continuing to say, “Rose is a rose, the rose is a deva.” It was meaningless, like the ravings of a madman.  The words were repeated in an endless circle, like a prayer or a ritual chant. Mina’s voice grew louder, higher, and higher until it broke, and abruptly she stopped all movement, standing there like a graceful statue.

  Once I admired her every move; now I want to cover my eyes so I never have to see her again.   What happened after became the most traumatic thing in my life. I can never forget it, no matter how much I want it. It seemed to be imprinted on my eyelids, and even after closing my eyes in my sleep, I couldn’t get rid of those memories.

  Her movements were fleeting, like the wings of a butterfly. Here she is before me, tense and waiting, and then her throat crosses a ragged line, and blood rushes through her body like a waterfall.

  Eyes shining from tears are wide open and so resemble smooth black pearls, and lips are opened as if waiting for a kiss.   For a second, Mina's body stretched like a thin string and then softened, falling on the grass.   I heard someone start screaming; the sound was so deafening and heartbreaking that I wanted to curl up in a ball and cover my ears with my hands, so I couldn’t hear.

  I found myself screaming. I needed to call for help; I had to call an ambulance, and I had to try to help her. Put my arms around her neck and cover her gaping red velvet wound.

  But I was yelling about something else instead.   My name is not Rosa; you hear me, Mina!   I am not her. · · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

I awoke in a frenzy, sweating profusely and with a wildly pounding heart from an endlessly recurring nightmare.

 This dream has haunted me for months since Mina’s funeral. Night after night, I have lived this sunrise over and over again. I didn’t like morning anymore; I started avoiding sunlight and hiding in the velvet folds of the night, sharing my loneliness with the darkness. I made the moon my friend, and the stars my silent witnesses.

  My memory is folded paper, folded a thousand times. Sometimes, I want to unwrap it, but not completely: open the brittle edges of the fragile sashes, smooth out the folds and creases with my fingers, spread out the time sequence. Unwrap it just a little, and then fold again, mixing letters and days, reality and dreams. I never want to open the pages where the memories of that morning are stored. Every time I get almost to the end, moments before the final, I run away to the safety of happy days.

  I try to come up with a new ending to this story, a different ending, but the dream comes to me like a cat, gently calling me into its embrace, and I find myself again in a place I don’t want to be.

  It’s early in the morning, and the sun is just rising above the horizon, shimmering like a limitless purple-pink ocean.

 In Mina’s crimson hair are snow-white roses, and her dress looks like an intricately woven ruffle and lace. Her pale hands holding flowers, her puffy lips in a painful smile, and her bare feet—the ground must be cold since it was the middle of October.  Her blood… and the roses.   And if it were possible to personify hatred and death, then for me, it would be roses.

  I hated and despised these flowers with all my heart. They brought only sorrow and gloominess into my life. The beautiful symbol of mourning solemnity.   They started it. They ended it all.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

I was sixteen when Mina first called me Rosa. One January afternoon, she came home with a basket of the most gorgeous flowers I’ve ever seen in my life. Scarlet like the blood of a rose, they were magnificent and perfect. From that day on, I became Rosa. Why did Mina start calling me that? She never spoke.   But she completely forgot my real name. For the whole world, I was now Rosa.   After this case, every day in our small apartment, the roses became more and more numerous, until every inch of free space was filled with scarlet buds. Their smell was suffocating, thick, and sticky like honey. It is absorbed into the skin, hair, and dissolved in the blood. It made me dizzy and nauseous, and I could taste it on my tongue with every breath.   But it wasn’t just a smell. It was a color that screamed “red,” like blood itself. It poured over our house, coloring the entire apartment in a disturbing shade.

  After that, every day in our house, the roses became more and more numerous until they filled all the surrounding space.

  Soon, they became so numerous that our house looked like a tomb filled with scarlet petals hanging from the ceiling. We've been arranging here with all honors, breathing in a haze as imperceptible as rose-scented mist. 

  In all the time I lived there, not a single flower withered. It was frightening and exciting at the same time. Day followed night, and night gave way to day; but no petal lost its pristine beauty, and no bud bowed its heavy head in sorrow. There was not a single bouquet that would dilute this velvet sea with its mourning black.

  And if that did happen, Mina cried long and hard over these flowers and blamed herself for not saving them. At night, I heard the sound of her apologies and her fanatical prayers. 

  Whether she prayed to God or to the Devil, I couldn't tell. I'll find out for whom these prayers were intended many years later.

  Roses were always sent with a postcard and a box of expensive chocolates with some intricate filling. The box was necessarily in the form of a heart. The signature was also one; once the unchanged calligraphic handwriting deduced only one phrase, “For you,”

  Mina never told me who gave her these magic flowers or why the roses didn’t wither.

  I tried to ask her these questions several times, but she only brushed them off, throwing her long hair from one shoulder to the other and angrily declaring, “You must love them; you don't need to know more.”

 Mina also dyed her hair scarlet, like roses.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. Constantly surrounded by these flowers was unbearable, and one day I packed up all my things and moved in with a friend, leaving Mina alone in her regal rosary.

  My first night away from home, away from the roses and Mina, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned anxiously in bed hour after hour; but the dream never came, and then the phone rang. Mina called. Crying, she begged to come home, and when I asked her why, she barely whispered, “The roses are wilted.”

  I hung up, and Mina never called me again. Two years had passed. My life had changed, and I think my luck had smiled. I found wonderful friends who were eccentric and bright. I had a great and caring boyfriend, and the internship at ballet school was promising. Everything worked out perfectly, and there were no more roses.

 Until my twentieth birthday, a huge bleeding bouquet of scarlet roses tied with topaz-embroidered ribbon appeared in my new apartment. The candy box was heart-shaped, and the caption read, “For You.”

  I burned the bouquet, threw out the chocolate, and tore the note apart, and blew it to the wind.

  No one was supposed to see or know.   Even me.    Exactly eight days after these flowers appeared, I got a call from former neighbors in the apartment complex Mina was still living in.   I was urged to come and deal with the situation; the smell of rot and death was unbearable, and Mina didn't open the doors or answer the phone.   I opened the door with my key. Opening it wide, I crossed the threshold and could not contain a short scream. All the once-luxurious roses had rotted, dripping thick, stinking jugs on the floor and accumulating in gleaming poisonous lakes. Every corner of the space was occupied by large vases with black velvet buds and tall candles. After my move, Mina got rid of all the furniture, leaving only the big bed, which was now covered with dried stems strewn with thorns.

 This place was like a grave — cold and dark — where my sister was supposed to rest.   Going deeper, I found no hint of Mina's presence. Absolutely nothing.     Only putrid roses and an empty heart-shaped box.

  Mina was gone. For a whole year, I tried to find her without success. Old friends, distant relatives, acquaintances, and any other connections she might have ever had—I checked everything, but there was nothing to help me find her. It’s like she never existed.

 In the two years we’ve been apart, I didn’t know anything about her. Mina didn’t call, and when I tried to contact her, she would reply with a short message, always the same: "Roses have wilted; come back." just like the night I left her.

  All Mina had ever thought about since that unfortunate January day were these sinister roses.

  The police began an investigation. Two years after her disappearance, Mina became officially missing.

  And a year after that, she showed up at my door in the twilight of the fall morning, barefoot, in a sophisticated lace dress with a rose crown on her head. From the Mina that I knew, all that remained was her hair—long, silky, and crimson like blood and roses.

  She still kept calling me Rosa, calling me out, and promising that we’d be happy together. That it will be only us, forever. She promised to show me where these strange flowers bloom, which she called the Deva-Rose, although these were not her words, but those of someone distant and unfamiliar to me, Hongjoong.

  And then...then Mina died. The dawn painted her body in pink shades, flooded the grass with sparkling gold, and dyed the white roses of her crown scarlet. She slit her throat. Ragged a sharp spike into it. As it turned out, even the tiniest rose spikes were deadly.   It was a nightmarish and, at the same time, majestic end to her story.   The image of Mina haunts me in dreams even now—this distant gaze in her pearly eyes and a complete absence of fear of death. No, Mina wasn't afraid. She welcomed death as an old friend, graciously opening her arms.

  It was her exodus.   I remember screaming loudly. Blood thundered in my ears, and tears flowed in an endless crystal stream. I screamed that my name wasn’t Rosa; that I wasn’t her, and never would be.

  Her funeral was truly a royal one. Rain and thunder rattle in the sky, as if raising a toast in her honor. The flat haloes of the black umbrellas swayed peacefully as the guests made their sorrowful speeches.

  Mina seemed to fall asleep, dressed in an old-fashioned wedding dress, lying there like a princess, drowning in thousands of roses.   The flowers were brought at dawn. Their color was deep and dark, as if every petal was filled with the gloaming of the night. They mourned with me.   But I knew better. It wasn’t the end; it was the beginning.  Death follows life in an endless cycle of rebirth. When one flower fades, plant a new one.  Back home that night, I found a black envelope at my door, sealed with a monogram wax seal.

  It lacked an address and the sender's signature. The message was clear and concise. "I live for you, my Rosa."

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·   I went to the window and opened the curtains with my newfound determination. It’s time to stop being afraid and run away. Whatever it is, I’ll find out what happened to Mina. Let her start it all, but I’ll be the one to finish the story.   The last surviving girl.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·   How naive I was then, how stupid. The moth always flies to the flame, attracted by the warm fluttering light; he himself goes to his death.

I was that moth. Without realizing it, I came to my inevitable fate, which has been waiting for me for centuries, maybe longer. Their hands have stretched out since the darkest times, when the light didn't exist, and the Devil was as real as you and I. At that time, everyone knew his face, felt his hot breath on his skin.   The story I’m going to tell you isn't going to be bright and sweet; we’re going to go down to hell and come back. I'll take you through the dark woods to the horrors of uncharted lands where barefoot priestesses rock their sharp teeth in alluring smiles. I will take you to the castle where the prince rests in a crystal coffin and make you drink wine that tastes like blood.

  Now I have to ask you, "Are you afraid of the dark and what’s hidden in it?"   But my question is, "Love, do you like roses?"

[eastleighsblog]

250 posts!

[eastleighsblog]

omg Hi! Im not sure if you’re still accepting requests but if you still do… I would like to request an ot8 ateez x reader where they all leave her because of a misunderstanding and then they chase her back after but she doesn’t forgive/give in so easily ? Thank you love ❤️

Lost you forever

Pairing: Ateez! ot8 x fem! reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia, Mature

Warnings: crying, mention of death, poison, mentions of mafia activities like shooting and deals in mafia, misunderstanding, pregnancy(?) [plz tell me if I have missed something] oc doesn't forgive easily coz she is deeply hurt.

W.C: 5.3k (i was so into it sorry)

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated 😭. Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

“I have found her.”

All the noise died down with just one sentence. The room is now pin drop silent with all the heads turned towards the same direction and eyes focused on one person. The one who has just entered through the main door and whose voice made everyone stop in their tracks.

The leader of the group with a blank expression, walks towards the said person and grabs the collar of the leather jacket, eyes burning with his creased forehead but somewhere he wants to believe the words he has just heard.

“You realize what you are speaking right, Mingi?”

Nodding his head, he stares right back, “Absolutely.”

“Are you sure that’s her? Maybe, you might have mistaken someone else.”

Closing his eyes for a second, he sighs, “I have seen her with my own eyes, up so close to realize enough that it was her. Her sweet smile and those soft hands, everything is same.”

The one holding his collar loosen his grip and walks over to the table to get back his drink.

“Hongjoong, stop drinking.” The eldest scolds the leader before turning towards the other, “Then where is she and why didn’t you bring back her here? Where exactly did you see?”

“She was working at the café, down the Ross street. The target’s location was last seen in that café and when I reached there, he had already left and then when I heard that sweet voice asking if I need something?”

“did she see you?” The youngest asks him with curiosity filled in his eyes.

“No. I ordered a simple coffee just to see her longer and when she handed it over to me, I felt her soft and innocent hands touching my rough and ruthless ones. I was wearing a mask so she didn’t notice me but she was hiding her pain really well with her sweet smile.”

“But her eyes were telling something else.” Mingi turns towards Yeosang on hearing his response.

Everyone is feeling guilty that they are the reason you are working all alone there and having the pain inside you which your eyes reflect enough to let them know how you are feeling. They have been with you long enough to know every detail of your actions, to read your emotions from afar, to know if you are happy or to realize that you are hiding something then why. Why did they misunderstood you back then and left you all alone helpless?

“I want to see her. Take me there, just tell me which café is that exactly and I will be on my way there.”

“San, calm down. Take it slow. I know that you are eager to meet her like we all are but we can’t just go there like this. You know what we did back that day. I don’t think, she would want to see us again.”

If they had this much power in their hand to erase that day or to change the situation that occurred that day then they would have done long way back but now its impossible to do so. It’s been three years that they have left you but when their mission in this new country led them to cross your path again, they are not going to leave this chance out of their hand. Searching you for so long and not getting any sight of you has made their life a disaster. Hongjoong has been drinking a lot since he found out that he had done wrong with you and not a single member of his gang can control his vigorous nature but being the leader of the uprising mafia gang, he has to control his limits to not let the opposition know his weakness. Yunho is not better than him here, being the fighter of the group, he is overdoing and exhausting himself just because he can’t get you out of his mind and showing his anger on others. Well, Seonghwa needs to be calm here as being the eldest, he finds this as his responsibility to check if his members are doing okay and him being the second in command has to be with the leader most of the time. But the question is how can he just pretend that he doesn’t think about you, his thoughts are always storming inside his head which are revolving around how to get you back. San is restless, he is almost every time being out of the house doing illegal shits without even informing the leader and just messing up things, which sometimes almost bring them to face a hectic situation but thanks to Wooyoung who is always there to save him but what about himself. He is the one who would show his emotions up his sleeves but when it comes to get you back, he is lost in a void. He doesn’t even know whether to be angry, upset, mad or just forget about you. Forget about you? Is it even possible? Mingi is always out of the base, he has taken upon himself to look out for the targets and engaging with the spies all around to know the motives of other gangs and be prepared but one thing is always flashing to him, thoughts of you. Jongho has kept himself silent for most of the times, away from his members and just trying his way to find out where you are. Are you even alive? He is always there to bug Yeosang to find you in every corner of their hometown but you were nowhere to be found and once they had lost all hope of you being alive. Yeosang has taken the job of being hacker too seriously and that just to find you till the last cell of his data but everytime, he is just getting disappointed.

🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚

“Thank you for your order. Have a great night ahead.”

You smile sweetly towards the customer who just left the café and its almost nine at night so you should get prepared to leave for the night. You are always the last worker to leave on the busy scheduled day as you live just few houses away from here and the manager is too sweet to even let her guard accompany you to reach your house. She once requested you to do the extra night shifts on busy days as other workers live bit far away and you could be much helpful to her. She has this warm motherly aura and so you couldn’t reject her request.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry that you had to stay back late again. It’s Halloween season and you know how people are crowding over here.” Your manager having a guilty expression on her face approaches you.

“Oh no, it’s really fine with me. I can keep my mind off with some stuffs while working here so it’s not a big problem. I rather enjoy being here than staying at home and overthinking.”

“You are so sweet. You should take some leaves and rest for few days as I haven’t seen you taking leaves or going out with someone. Don’t waste your young age everytime working here. Have some enjoyment and refresh your mind.”

“Working here gives me the happiness. I don’t think being with someone can actually refresh my mind or rather haunt me…..Nevermind, you must go back as your son is waiting for you and after getting everything back to it’s place, I will hand over the keys to Mr.Lee.”

Nodding her head and waving at you, she rode back to her place leaving you and Mr. lee, who must be in the locker room getting his stuff and later waiting for you outside.

Arranging all the stuffs, it took twenty minutes as your other co-workers had almost done everything before leaving and the previous orders were simple so you didn’t have much to do. Picking up your bag from the counter, you give a final glance to the place to make a mental note if everything is fine. Satisfied with the result, you quickly went outside to see him already standing and waiting for the keys but he is looking impatient.

“Are you fine, Mr.Lee?”

“U-uh yeah…” sweats visibly lining the forehead and lips quivering. Why is he sweating in this cold night?

“If you need help, please do tell me.”

“Actually, I need to leave early… my daughter needs some help and she has just now called me so I think I cant go with you today.”

“Its fine with me. I can manage on my own, its just few steps and I will be home so don’t worry and leave. I hope your daughter is fine.”

He thanked you several times and left. Like always, your smile is still having that warmth even in this chilly night. Your hands rub your arms and you start walking towards your block. Everything is like usual until you start to feel someone is following you but waving it off as if it must be your fear of walking alone without him. Also, it’s Halloween and anything creepy can happen. Even the children’s pranks are creepier than ghosts. You quicken your steps, hands gripping the bag tightly.

You feel a hand on your shoulder and you almost had screamed when another hand pressed over your mouth, shutting you up and muffling your scream. Your eyes closed tight and hands trying to remove the palm from over your mouth.

“Y/N. Don’t be afraid, it’s me.”

You froze. Not due to the chilly wind just blew past you but because of the very familiar voice. Familiar? You don’t think it has that same familiarity like before. Every morning, this used to be the first voice you would listen while waking you up and engulfing you in a big bear hug. That’s past as now you are used to being wake up with your alarm or nightmares. Just a reminder, he is the part of causing that nightmare.

Parting your eyes, you can see the tall man standing in front of you. Looking down at you with a soft look on his face, teary eyes and hands slowly slip down from your mouth to your biceps to hold them firmly. The street is brightly lit due to the decorations for the occasion so everything is very clear for your eyes. You stare back at him and not knowing how to react as your body and mind is going against each other but you know a little part of your heart still beats for him, for them.

He is about to pull you in for a hug when you stop him with your hands pressed over his chest, preventing him from coming any closer.

“Y/N….”

“Stop it. You should not just hug randomly someone. You may know me but sorry I can’t really remember you.”

“Random? You are my angel. I want to hug you and say sorry for what I have done. Don’t pretend that you don’t know me, please tell me you have missed me equally.”

“Look, you must have mistaken me with someone else but I’m not her.”Pushing his hands off from you, “Even if I know your name doesn’t mean I know you, you are just like the rest of the customers in my daily life whose name I have to hear often. So it’s nothing special and as I don’t hear your name anymore maybe I would forget it forever.”

“Y/N!”

You make a ‘tsk’ sound on hearing him shout your name. Even if they pretend to be polite or gentle with you, they are the ruthless uprising mafia gang so what do you even expect less from them while controlling their aggression?

“This is you. Shout on me. Blame on me. but. Don’t show your kindness to me again. You have literally showed your true colors that day and look here we are. Standing face to face and you still shouting on me just like that day. You are still the same, Yunho.”

Hearing his name coming out of your mouth after three years is sending a wave of warmth to his heart. Atleast, you called him by his name even though your words are straight away piercing his heart like a sharp knife, you haven’t spoken to him like this ever but he knows he deserves it for leaving you that day.

A black SUV comes to a stop near to a side of you both. If it were any other time, you swear you would have got frightened but the raging veins with hatred towards him is not minding any danger surrounding you. You didn’t look at it’s direction but can hear several footsteps are nearing you. Why are you not scared? Is it because you are feeling safe in his presence? No, it’s just you don’t want to be saved or show your weakness, atleast in front of him.

“Doll.”

Don’t turn back. You are just imagining things. He can’t be hear even yunho is not here, right? You want to believe this but the presence behind you is too near you, his warm hands placed over your shoulder sending a jolt through your body. It may be warm but is lacking the warmth, you can only feel the coldness of feelings there. Turning around, you look into the eyes of Mingi, who just called you with the name he gave you on your first date with him.

Okay, so everyone is here. All the eyes are just looking at you, only you. If it was something back in those days then you would have become shy and hide behind Yunho and not look at them but this time, your daring eyes precisely staring back at them. Their eyes filled with regret meeting your eyes filled with hatred.

“Why are you all here?”

“For you.” Hongjoong replies quickly enough and this made you raise your brow.

The scene is like a deja-vu, very similar to the last time you had seen them. Them circling you under the night sky and you are the centre of the situation but that time, they had that rage in their eyes for blaming you and hoping you to vanish from their eyesight but this time, they have the fear…of losing you again.

“it’s not funny. If you all are going to have some Halloween pranks on people then go somewhere else, don’t waste my time.”

“It’s really not funny and also not a prank. We are really here for you.”Hongjoong said calmly.

“And? You got to see me. You needed to know if I’m alive or not and now you might kill me as I already know a lot of your things and it’s dangerous for you all to keep me alive. Go ahead, shoot me.”

“Y/n, are you insane? How can you think like this that we will shoot you?”

“San, it’s very obvious from the way you were pointing the gun to my forehead with fire in your eyes.” You point to the middle of your forehead with two fingers. They would have found your acts childish but your tone is too harsh for their ears, making it obvious how much hatred you have towards them.

The said man fidgeting his fingers, looking down and a single tear escapes his eyes. The tear of losing you. You are so near to him, just few feet away where he can run to you and hug you tightly and pull you in for a kiss yet so far away because of the way, your eyes glaring at him.

Mingi moves aside when Hongjoong comes in front of you, “Princess-“

“Don’t call me that when you don’t know how to treat one. I’m not your princess. Well, I’m no one to you.”

No one to him and this word burns his heart. Not only his but others too. Still he tried to speak to you.

“Whatever happened that day, we are really guilty for that. We are extremely sorry to treat you that way. I don’t know what happened to me and I put the blame on you, thinking it was your plan, everything I had lost that day was because of me and I lost you but trust me, each day I have spent regretting for this. Please forgive me. Please.”

He is no more holding back his tears, being a leader is a great responsibility and controlling his emotions in every situation is the major part but you were always there with him by his side where he could express himself, to show his vulnerable self to you but this time instead of comforting him, you are mocking back at him.

“Are you crying because of regret or losing your mission that day? I’m sure it’s about the shitty mission or what else-”

Yunho turns you around harshly and this time you can see his flaming eyes, “Are you making fun of him? What happened to you really? You have totally changed. This is not Y/N, we knew back then.”

“Exactly, this is not your Y/N anymore. This is me. An orphan who lives alone in this block and works by the café down the street. Also, not nice to meet any of you.”

You give him a blank expression. His grip on you tightens and you just stare at the hold, hissing but not telling him to leave you. Why? Because you want to feel him. No. You want to see how much he can lose control on you and the physical pain is nothing compared to the mental pain, you have gone through the years.

“Please come back to us. We are here to take you back, to your home, our home.”

Seonghwa. Please don’t speak like that. He is a siren for this because even if you want to hate him, his voice is always as if lurking you to trust him, his words which are still soothing to your ears, remembering those feather kisses. No. They are pinching you like a thorn just like your words are doing to his heart.

“There is nothing called ours. My place is here and nowhere else. I guess you don’t know the meaning of a home. Home is somewhere you can feel warmth and comfort, a forgiving atmosphere to erase your pain into happiness. But the place you are mentioning is a prison to me, hearing the name suffocates me, the memories haunt me. Atleast, here, I’m okay by myself, far away from you all but still nothing is a home to me.”

“Why are you saying like this? Please don’t push us away when we just got you back.”

“So? I should forgive you all and get back to you. Never. This is not happening ever.”

You walk towards him, his ears perk up hearing your heels nearing him, Yunho has left his grip on you but his hands aching to touch you again. The memories of you both spending nights together with warm skin against skin, hushed promises surrounded by the burning love but now even if your skin is warm, the touch was cold with numb feelings.

You pull the strap of Seonghwa’s jacket and other hand block his hand which he was about to raise and swiftly pull the gun out, pointing it towards his forehead. Others come to a warned position.

“If I shoot you here and wait enough to bleed you to death.” You turn to look back at them, their surprise faces looking back at you but no one daring to step forward. “Then if I say, please forgive me. Will it be worthy?”

“But…but we didn’t hurt you. We…we just….” San doesn’t know how to complete his sentence. He is lost within his own words. Seeing you after years, your coldness towards them, even pointing gun towards one of their member and remembering how you and him were in the same position last time causing his hands shake. So ironic for a mafia member. No matter how strong they are, how ruthless they can be but when it comes to you, you are their weakness.

“It’s not always hurting someone physically. Their way of act towards you speaks volume and the words you told me while pointing the gun is way more painful than if you would have actually shoot me.” Turning, towards Seonghwa, “You have already killed me that day. I am dead for you.”

“Baby, please don’t say like this.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that I’m nothing to you all? Stop calling me names.”

Wooyoung’s eyes go wide on hearing your shout. He is so much taken aback by your outburst that he is almost looking helpless towards Mingi standing near him.

“I’m sorry…I mean…please don’t say like this. You are everything to me, to us. You don’t know how messed up we were when we left you. I’m so sorry to leave you but please atleast lets forget about that incident and please come back to us.” Wooyoung stutters but not again using the endearment.

Mingi chirps in, “Human can may make mistakes. Whatever happened that day, we know it was not your fault, it was a mistake and we really forgive you for that. I’m sorry for being harsh on you.”

“Yes. We are really guilty. We should have listened to you but rather we blamed you on the spot and said such harsh words which even if I want to take back, I can’t. I didn’t let you to explain but ended up on a conclusion.” Wooyoung ends the sentence with tears spilling from his eyes silently.

Do you forgive them? Yes. but Why? They are still telling you it was your mistake. You cant forgive them so. No.

“So you still think that it happened because of my mistake? It was an accident?”

“Y/n…”

“Stop it, Yunho. Don’t speak a single word. I’m getting annoyed with you.”

Your steps come to a stop in front of Wooyoung whose eyes are shining to get you so close to him. He raises his hands but got yanked away by you. Maintaining a straight eye contact with him, you grab his collar.

“look at me and say that it was my mistake. It all happened because of me.”

He remained silent. He parts his lips but nothing coming out and this is making you impatient.

“Tell me!”

Hot tears streaming down your eyes. Still your body is not getting enough warmth and craving for it during the cold night in that lonely street. Even if you are with all of them still you are feeling alone. Your vision is getting blurred but you roughly rubbed your eyes with the sleeves of the shrug. Your breathings are getting heavy and you are losing control.

The youngest pulls away Wooyoung from your hold and holds your red hands in his grip which are shaking due to the tight fist.

“Please, calm down. It’s me Jongho. It’s not your fault. No one is blaming you. Take deep breathes and calm down.”

He knows that you are hyperventilating and he still knows how your body is reacting and you hate this. You harshly pull your hands away from his hold.

“Don’t touch me. My body aches when I remember how I let you monsters to touch me, everywhere, every day. I’m feeling so ashamed of myself. Don’t make me regret more. I hate the fact how you still know this about my body and am beyond surprised that you still remember me. Oh wait, you have to remember every detail of your enemy before plotting a nice plan and attacking them, right? And today is the perfect day.”

“You are not my enemy. You are my-“

“Stop. Don’t complete that sentence, Jongho.”

“Don’t speak to him like that, he was not even there during the whole mission, he was in for a quick need for back-end support for Yeosang.”Mingi says in a moderate tone.

“But was there long enough to blame me.”

Hongjoong places a firm hand on Mingi’s shoulder, “No one is blaming you. It was an accident and you didn’t know what to do there.”

“I know that whatever you did was to save yourself and I’m glad that you are fine.”

You stare at Hongjoong for a few moments and then burst out laughing like a maniac. Any other person would have found you weird and commented that you have gone mad. Even they would have made fun of you and teased you that how foolish you looked like while laughing like this.

Frustrated groans and your hands raising to your scalp and you mess your hairs. You are totally acting like a drunk person.

“hongoong, did you hear what he just said? Did you hear everyone? He said that I did that to save me. Huh. To. Save. Me.”

You skip steps towards yeosang and slap him, “You think I have killed Mr. Kim to save myself?”

“Y/n!”

You could barely hear Seonghwa and Yunho’s shout when you grabbed Yeosang’s biceps and shake him. He is shocked not just because you have slapped him but seeing you losing your mind like this and having no control over your actions and he is still thinking that something like this might have happened which cause you to kill Mr.Kim.

“Tell me Yeosang. You think I did it for myself? Tell me.”

Nothing he said in reply, just stared right back at you, the only thought running through his mind is to hug you and say that he won’t be leaving you again. He would protect you from the whole world. His daily searching to get your location was always in vain and he still can’t believe his eyes that you are standing in front of him but your eyes showing the amount of hatred in you for him. a helpless cry audible to his ears to which he was deaf during last time.

“So, you do think it is.”

You take a few steps back, staring back at each of them. San tried to come near you but Yeosang stopped him and shook his head.

“I…I did it…I killed him…It was not an accident.” You look up to the sky and smile to yourself, “I did it to save my family. I shoot him to save you all from his evil planning. You all were my family and I tried my best to face him, my hands were shaking, head was spinning. I couldn’t place the actions and words right in place but I knew I had to do it to save you all.”

“save us?” Hongjoong asks you in surprise.

You chuckle sadly, “Your beloved dad had only invited you to the party so that he could destroy you and your gang. He realized that you are not his own son and Jungwoo is his real son so to give him all the power, it was a better option to erase you from the path. I got to know this because Jungwoo told me and he didn’t want to support his dad in this way and somehow mr.Kim tried to kill me when he heard that I wont let you join the party.”

“That’s why…that’s why…you were whining to spend time with us and cancel the schedule.”

You nod on Jongho’s statement.

“I didn’t know how to stop you so before I could come up with a plan, you were already in your way to catch your target at the party held by Mr.Kim. And…and…when I tried to follow you all, he caught me and poisoned me.”

“Why did he poison you?” Wooyoung almost shout hearing this.

“He wanted to see you all going down first seeing me die and then it would be fun to end you. He really succeeded here.”

“What do you mean?” Yunho asks you slowly. You glance towards him but nod a bit.

Picking up your bag which is lying on the floor because of the previous commotion, you look down and tears flowing continuously, “even when I was poisoned, I escaped from the room and when I reached the scene, you were already in the middle of the bloody scene with your target. He was going to leave the place and would leave you all dying in the bomb blast and that’s how I thought it was best to kill him.”

“You didn’t tell that you were poisoned, we thought you were acting of feeling sick.” Even though Seonghwa confessed what he did feel right back then still he is feeling guilty towards you. You stare right back into his eyes.

“When I shot him in front of you all, Hongjoong snatched the gun from me and you harshly pulled me towards the exit and then it went on with you all blaming me.” You cast a glance towards San, “you pointed the gun at me and threatened me to kill if I don’t spill whose spy I was. You even doubted me with Jungwoo that we were cheating behind you and it was our plan to destroy you.”

Huh. Such cheap thought they had. They all blamed you and called such names and even threatened to kill you. It was not enough that they even insulted you in front of everyone present in the party even tried to prove your imaginary relation with Jungwoo.

“I’m sorry…”

“Mingi. Say sorry to Y/N who was trying to explain everything to you all, who was enduring the pain of spreading poison in her body and was still trying to protect you. Go hug her and pull towards you and say everything is okay, whose hands were shaking because she never killed anyone in her life before despite you all trained her in every field for her self-defence. Go and listen to her and ask her. Are you fine?”

He can’t match your eyes so he looks down regretting his every move, you throw a dirty look at him yet somewhere your eyes showing a little bit of sympathy. Your body still reacting to their touch and wanting to run to their embrace making you hate yourself.

“You can’t go. She is dead. Your Y/N is dead. Congratulations, you have killed her that day. You have killed a new life with her as well. She didn’t even get to know who her father is. Mission completed Boss.”

You stare straight and boldly towards Hongjoong.

“Her? Father? What are you saying?” Yeosang is impatient on hearing such things from you. He is confused just like the others and their heart is racing whereas yours is calm but painfully beating.

“I have lost my first baby and one of you lost the honour of being the father for the first time. It was too late when I woke up in the hospital, the poison had already been spread too much. I don’t know how I am still alive but maybe atleast Jungwoo didn’t leave my side.”

It was a big storm for them. As if the ground disappeared from underneath their feet. You were pregnant and they were unaware of it. If only they had agreed with your warnings, then they would have been having a happy family time with you and their baby together. No matter whose baby she was, she would have been theirs, they all would have given their fatherly love to her.

Without saying any more word, you begin to walk towards your way and didn’t even look back for the last time towards them.

“Y/N…”You heard wooyoung calls you from behind and they might follow you.

Still facing your back towards them, you speak slowly but audible enough for them, “Don’t follow me or come to find me again. You have left me that day, helplessly crying in the garden. Don’t expect me to forgive you and go back to you again.”

You walk away, far away from them where your silhouette getting lost in the painful dark but they know atleast you are safe and alive beyond that darkness. Their eyes follow the last bit of your presence.

They won’t be giving up on you like this. They will get you back someday but they also know that they have lost a part of you forever.

“I love you but I have lost you.”

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