Inception is superior

05 - she/her - atiny

[justakaku]

Masterlist

Requests are open <3

Confidentiality - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader:

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7. Chapter 8.

Chapter 9.

Chapter 10.

Hongjoong:

Nothing yet...

Seonghwa:

Nothing yet...

Yunho:

Another load of Jealousy (smut)

Yeosang:

Nothing yet...

San:

Nothing yet...

Mingi:

Unzipped (fluff)

Wooyoung:

Candy Crush (smut)

Jongho:

Dear Daisy (angst, fluff)

[justakaku]

oh you've changed your username, is it because your parents found your account? 👀

KINDA😭😭😭they've known my username for a long time already but I decided that it was time to change it finally before they'd possibly visit my page someday! I'm 20yo so practically there isn't a problem but I'd still prefer they will never see the smut I've written.......

[justakaku]

NOOO MY YOUNGIE SCREAMING AND CRYING my poor kitty....yuyu im gonna get you!!!!!! teehee this new chapter was so good i missed you sm welcome back!! literally spinning around in circles im so excited to see where the story keeps going!! -🐶

I feel responsible for his unfortunate fate💔💔💔💔hopefully he gets justice.... THANK YOU for waiting so patiently for this chapter🥹it took a lot of time for me to get into a mindset where I'm able to write with flow, but last night I wrote about ¾ of the chapter and this is the result!

[justakaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 10. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as paranoid thoughts. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, violence. Dark themes are to be expected. MENTIONS OF SUICIDE AND DRUGS IN THIS CHAPTER! Character death! A/N: Damn, it has been over two months since the last chapter... This one's going to be more intense and reveals important information. I hope you enjoy! Word count: 2 721

Answering to unknown numbers had always caused you distress. You never knew if the person calling you was lying about their identity or intentions. It could be a bank officer, but it could also be a man from the other side of the world claiming to be your lost great-great-grandfather who wants to include you in his will. 

These days you were different. Your phone was stuck to your side and your fingers ready to act if there was an upcoming call from an unknown number. It could be the bank officer or scammer but now there was also a chance of the police calling you. 

A few weeks ago, they had arrived in your apartment in a rush. No stone was left unturned as they searched for signs of the break-in. To your relief they did find some evidence and believed your suspicions of someone stalking you. Saving all those letters had come in handy after all. 

But as you waited weeks for them to call you and update you on the investigation, no call ever came. That’s why you were at the police station, too impatient to keep on waiting at home. You just needed to know if they were any close to catching the stalker. 

“I’m sorry, miss L/N. This case you’re talking about... it doesn’t exist,” the police officer spoke calmly. 

You furrowed your brows. 

“How could that be possible? I was there when the police came to my apartment and searched it.” 

The officer had clearly seen lots of different kind of people during her career since she put a practiced, firm yet compassionate smile on her face. Despite her work experience, she still couldn’t see you weren’t some delusional nutcase. 

“Unfortunately, there are no traces of your case existing. We’ll contact you if the situation changes, but for now I advise you to go home.” 

You left the police station, confused and distraught. How could the police not have your case registered? You could have disregarded everything as some weird dream if it weren’t for the shattered glass doors and stolen objects. 

You had stopped going to the group therapy since the day you had found your home in that state of chaos. Since the stalker must have found you there, you should have started feeling safer now that you would never step into the therapy room again. But still, a persistent fear lingered. You didn’t feel safe at your own home anymore. 

People passed by as you walked on the streets, heading home. It was daytime, and none of them had even glanced at you. Still, it was impossible to shake off the feeling of being followed. 

Suddenly, a hand landed on your shoulder. It felt like ice-cold water had been poured on you in that moment. With a quick turn, you faced the culprit and hit him with your elbow. 

“Ow! Calm down, it’s just me!” 

You gasped as you recognized the face you had just hit: it was Wooyoung. 

“I-I’m sorry, Wooyoung! I didn’t know it was you.” 

“It’s okay. I guess I had it coming with the way I sneaked up to you.” 

Wooyoung was grinning, but you could see he was in pain. Blood was slowly starting to trickle down his nostrils. He wiped some of the crimson-red blood on the sleeve of his sweater and you cringed. 

“Your nose is bleeding. I’m sorry,” you mumbled in shame, “Do you want to come to my place? I’ll give you some tissues.” 

“Well, well, I never thought I would see the day you invite me to your apartment,” Wooyoung smirked, making you regret your invitation already. 

“It won’t take long. I live nearby,”  

“Oh, I know.” 

Wooyoung’s comment was alarming, but you figured he knew where you lived because of Yeosang. Back at that sleepover, Wooyoung had said that Yeosang shares “everything and everyone” with him and San. 

At least it hadn’t been the stalker following you. Wooyoung was mischievous but most likely not the one who had broken into your apartment. After all, he had been with you the whole time, even coming to sleep next to you. 

It didn’t feel like you were leading Wooyoung into your home since it seemed that he already knew your exact address. He even greeted the neighbors sitting outside like he knew them. 

The entire time you inspected his actions carefully. All his little jokes, smiles, and the weird glint in his eyes. You just hoped you weren’t making a mistake, bringing him to your home. 

“So, the bathroom is-” 

As soon as you opened the front door, you tried to guide Wooyoung into the bathroom to clean up his bleeding nose. But you couldn’t even finish your sentence; he had already headed in the right direction without needing your guidance. 

You watched as he cleaned up, washing the blood off and stuffing a crumpled piece of toilet paper inside his other nostril. A quiet, pained grunt escaped his lips, and you felt guilty. 

“I’m sorry, Wooyoung. I thought you were someone dangerous.” 

“Ah, do you mean the stalker?” 

“Precisely.” 

Wooyoung turned to look at you properly instead of merely catching glimpses of you in the mirror. He gave you a smile – he also gave you the bloody paper that had been previously inside his nose. 

“I’ll forgive you if you let me cook for you.” 

“And why did you give me this paper?” you grimaced. 

Nobody likes dirty things, especially not you. The paper drenched in Wooyoung’s blood could have all kinds of nasty bacteria crawling up your skin. 

“Just a little memory of me. Who knows, maybe I’ll die in the next few days? The letters I’ve been receiving are creeping me out,” Wooyoung grinned. 

“You’ve still received those? Why haven’t you told the police?” 

With a roll of his eyes, Wooyoung threw the question back at you: “Why haven’t you told the police about the stalking situation?” 

You had. You definitely had. You could remember the police arriving and searching the apartment for any immediate danger and evidence. 

But could it be possible you had imagined everything? No. That’s why the police officer’s revelation had freaked you out. 

“I have told the police. My apartment was broken into, and the police came here,” you spoke grimly, “Today I went to the station, and I was told that my case doesn’t exist. According to them, nothing ever happened.” 

Wooyoung immediately fell quiet. His eyes were empty, at least compared to his usual lively expressions. 

“I have a theory.” 

Wooyoung’s words made your heart jump. Could he have some crucial information? 

“I... I need to test it out a little first. I’ll tell you once I know better,” he continued. 

After that, Wooyoung ushered you to sit on the couch while he was going to prepare you a meal. You told him that you wanted to help, but he remained uncharacteristically stern and didn’t let you indulge in the cooking. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what he was cooking since the air wafting into the living room smelled unusual. It wasn’t necessarily a bad smell, just a little odd. 

“What are you cooking?” you called out to Wooyoung. 

A moment of silence followed your words but eventually he answered from the kitchen: “I can’t spoil the surprise.” 

 A sigh slipped past your lips. After mentioning the break-in and police, Wooyoung had turned subdued and weirdly serious. 

To pass time, you turned on the TV. It was a new, more pathetic one, after the break-in had caused your old TV screen to shatter completely. As if you hadn’t had money issues before, now you had had to buy and fix a lot of stuff. The government had cut off your monetary assistance because you had stopped going to the group therapy. Things were tough. 

You switched through the TV channels, not finding the energy to actually focus on watching them. 

A true crime documentary was playing on the background. Hearing about the murdered and kidnapped victims made you even more uneasy. Mostly, you could only focus on the fears having a hold on you. 

“Stop watching that. You’ll have nightmares.” 

Wooyoung had suddenly appeared out of the kitchen and turned the TV off. He set a plate full of food in front of you on the coffee table. 

“Is this for me?” 

“Yeah. Just for you,” he answered. 

You couldn’t lie; the food looked absolutely delectable. And you were very hungry. Past days you hadn’t cooked anything, just nourishing yourself with simple meals. 

Wooyoung stared at you intently as you eventually started devouring the food. 

Bite by bite the plate got emptier. And minute by minute you started becoming more tired. 

“How did it taste like?” 

You nodded in approval: “It was delicious. Thank you.” 

Wooyoung nodded as well. His eyes were intense yet empty at the same time, “And how do you feel?” 

“Full. And very tired. I think I’m going into a food coma,” you chuckled. 

While you may hadn’t noticed that your speech was getting slurred, Wooyoung had. 

It was becoming difficult to keep your eyes open. There was definitely something wrong, but your head was so fuzzy that you couldn’t even think about what was happening. 

“Oh. That is such a shame. I guess our hangout will be cut short then,” Wooyoung spoke slowly. 

With a yawn, you informed him you’d go to bed. However, your limbs felt so heavy that it felt impossible to move them. 

“No. You can stay on the couch, and I’ll be here with you. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable and safe, baby.” 

The pet name was weird, but it was innocent enough. You couldn’t even find the strength to answer because you were too tired to even move your lips. Slowly, you closed your eyes. A little rest would be good. 

It was silent for a couple minutes. Wooyoung typing on his phone broke the silence, but you didn’t care. 

Silence again. You were fighting against the inevitable exhaustion that would tip you off the edge of consciousness soon enough. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Hearing Wooyoung get up from the couch and walk to the door, you felt satisfied. You couldn’t have answered the door at this state. 

“Woo...ong. I... somethin... for...” 

You heard a familiar voice speaking to Wooyoung, but you couldn’t make out the words completely. It was hard to even stay awake, let alone understand what was happening around you. 

“What... hell... you... here?” you heard Wooyoung asking something angrily. 

“...away... her... I’ll... you.” 

After that your eyes closed slowly. 

When you woke up, you didn’t feel refreshed. Wooyoung was nowhere to be seen, and it was both a good and bad thing. In the place of some of your memories from before you fell asleep were now blank spaces. You needed him to tell you what had happened. 

Groggily, you reached for your phone on the coffee table. If you remembered correctly the time you had arrived home yesterday, you had been sleeping for 18 hours already. The air was tense despite you being the only one in your apartment. Wanting to get your mind off the nagging feeling of unease, you started scrolling on your phone. 

Then you noticed you had received a text message from Yeosang. 

“Wooyoung is dead.” 

Your heart dropped. Your mind went blank. No way. 

Another message came through. 

“He was found dead in his apartment today. According to the police it was a suicide. An overdose on a drug.” 

But just some hours ago he had been alive and well. He had seemed completely his normally weird self until you had mentioned the break-in and the police. 

Your fingers trembled as you wrote a message back: “This is terrible. Who found him?” 

It took a while until Yeosang sent his next message. 

“San and I did. He didn’t show up to our hangout in time, so we went to look for him.” 

Suddenly a memory flashed through your mind. Someone ringing the doorbell. Wooyoung answering it. Them talking to each other angrily. 

“Wooyoung was at my place earlier. Just before I fell asleep someone rang my doorbell and talked with him,” you replied. 

You couldn’t process the fact that Wooyoung was gone now. It didn’t make sense. Why did people keep disappearing in your life? First it was your parents, then it was Jongho and now even Wooyoung. 

“We must talk. As soon as possible.” 

Soon enough, you met up with Yeosang at his apartment. He opened the door, a grim look on his handsome features. You opened your arms instead, offering him a hug tentatively. 

Yeosang’s arms wrapped around your body. No words were exchanged but you could feel his emotions even non-verbally. The way his body trembled broke your heart. 

“Y/N,” a familiar voice called out. 

You locked eyes with San and gave him a weak nod and an even weaker smile. 

Usually, he was the one seeking out physical contact and Yeosang being the more reserved one. But now he had to be strong for Yeosang and you. He probably felt like he should bear the grief of everyone alone. 

The three of you sat down around Yeosang’s dining table. There were four chairs, one left unoccupied, almost like a mockery of Wooyoung’s absence. You hadn’t even been that much of close friends with him, but during the past weeks you’d gotten to know him better. This was all so wrong and sudden. 

“You texted Yeosang that you heard someone talking to him. What did that person say? What did they sound like?” 

You could hear the pain in San’s voice. 

“It was a familiar voice. A man. But I can’t put my finger on who it could have been.” 

“What did Wooyoung and him talk about?” 

“It was a heated conversation. They were arguing. I was so tired that I couldn’t focus properly, but I heard some words here and there,” you mumbled. 

San looked quite disappointed, which made you feel guilty. Wooyoung’s death wasn’t your fault, at least hopefully, but you wanted to be able to help. 

“The man clearly knew Wooyoung, since he said his name. He said something about what he’d do to him,” you said quietly, “At least I think so...” 

Yeosang had been quiet all this time but suddenly he spoke, “San. Do you remember the message he sent to us yesterday?” 

You could recall hearing Wooyoung type something on his phone as you had been lying down on the couch. Maybe that was the message Yeosang was talking about. 

“I do. He said he has a theory,” San answered. 

“He told me that too,” you chimed in, “He didn’t want to tell me yet since he wanted to ‘test out his theory’.” 

The air was thick and tension high – not in a threatening way, more like anxious. Yeosang and San exchanged glances. They were communicating wordlessly and effortlessly with just eyes. It made you feel even worse; Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang had been such a close, tight-knit trio. Now it all had been shattered. 

San let out a heavy sigh. If his eyes hadn’t been serious before, they were now. 

“Wooyoung said that you went to the police station and there were no traces of your case. Is that correct?” 

At your confirming nod, San continued speaking, “Why do you think that’s the situation? The police had arrived at your place after all, right?” 

It felt like this was extremely important. If you found out the reason why the police had suddenly lost all information of your case, you could find out many more crucial things. 

Suddenly, a thought popped up into your head. 

“Someone who has knowledge about how police work, the access to their files... That someone could have intentionally made it seem like the case never happened,” you murmured slowly, the words pouring out of your mouth. They tasted disgusting. 

San’s intense gaze confirmed your fears. 

“And who could that be?” he asked. 

You should have expected this. That certain someone was a police officer. That certain someone had been suspicious from the start, so why did it feel so hard to say his name? 

San and Yeosang already knew; they didn’t need to hear you say it. They just wanted you to acknowledge it. 

You whispered his name. 

“Yunho.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <- Chapter 9. Chapter 11. -> Masterlist ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Taglist: @devilzliaison @lover-with-dolar-sign-is-a-loser @gigikubolong29 @peqchplvto @eighttens @all-of-kpop @castingjinx @jsprien213 @lilyalone @atzloverr @ltyzennie @keisocool @carpioassists @levishun

[justakaku]

hello how are you? i hope you are doing well, i really like all the stories you uploaded especially the story "confidentiality". i am waiting for the next chapter. love

Hiii, first of all I'm so sorry for not having posted the next chapter yet!! I've started writing it though so it shouldn't take another two months for me to post it😭😭I guess my motivation has been low because I've personally felt like the chapters aren't good or meeting my expectations, but I'm glad that there are still people who want to read more of it🫶

[justakaku]

Candy Crush - Wooyoung x f!reader

Summary: Sure, all those lollipops Wooyoung had stolen from you tasted sweet, but would you taste even sweeter?

Genre: smut (MDNI)

Pairings: bully!sub!Wooyoung x f!reader

Tags/Warnings: SMUT, sub!wooyoung, mean dom!reader, cunnilingus, penetration, unprotected sex, slight jealousy, wooyoung is mean at the start, recording with a camera, breeding kink (?), name calling, wooyoung is kinda in love with the reader, revenge porn

A/N: This turned out longer than I wanted it to be :,) I hope this will tickle someone's fancy!

Word count: 3 560

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Lollipops. They were Wooyoung’s favorite to steal. Almost sickeningly sweet and easy for tongue; he wondered if your lips would taste the same. 

When he had been 10 years old, he hadn’t thought much about it. He had just wanted to elicit reactions out of you; it entertained him how your face turned the shade of the strawberry lollipop he had just stolen from you. Your tears had always been enjoyable to him, but a few years ago they had started to excite him in a different way. 

A part of him felt guilty about bullying you; stealing candy had turned to humiliating you in the school corridors and spreading rumors about you being a whore – it was his way to make sure other people would stay away from you, leaving him as the only person who could ever love you. 

The hallway wasn’t devoid of people, but you were alone once again. Not even fuckboys wanted to get acquainted with you – pretty insulting, huh? 

“At this point, you must be doing this on purpose,” Wooyoung chuckled as his steps led to you. He really acted like he owned the school – and you. 

An angry frown settled on your face as you noticed him staring at your candy bag. Despite Wooyoung always stealing your treats, you couldn’t stop the bad habit of bringing them to school. Maybe your subconscious mind did it on purpose, wanting a reason to talk to him. 

“These candies are not for you,” you huffed. 

“Then who are they for? You shouldn’t eat them by yourself,” Wooyoung grinned as he saw you tighten your grip on the bag, “I still remember how you threw up on recess when we were 11 years old.” 

“They’re for a friend.” 

Wooyoung clenched his white teeth together. It couldn’t be possible for you to have a friend, after he had lied to the whole school about your supposedly wild sex life. However, he had to force his anger down. 

“Are you going to bribe her into being your friend with candy?” Wooyoung’s smirk was infuriating. A brow he had raised arrogantly was not an unusual sight; he loved to make you doubt yourself. 

“It’s a ‘him’. And I have not bribed him with candy, sex, or anything,” you said. 

Jealousy flashed through Wooyoung’s chest; he had thought he had isolated you properly, but of course, there had to be someone who tried to whisk you away. 

“You’re definitely not going to bribe him with sex.” 

“Are you jealous?” you couldn’t resist teasing him. 

“Are you delusional? I meant you’re not able to bribe anyone with sex when you look like that,” Wooyoung scoffed. 

 You had grown used to his cruel comments years ago already, but the sting was still there. Not wanting to see his triumphant grin, you looked away. 

Watching the tears prickle your eyes, Wooyoung couldn’t help the pang of guilt shooting through him. Yes, he loved how easily he could force your emotions on the surface; you looked so beautiful with your puffy eyes, but when was the last time you had smiled at him? Probably not even once after the day he first stole your lollipop in elementary school. 

“Good job, asshat. Are you proud of yourself now?” 

You and Wooyoung turned to the sound of someone speaking and walking towards you. To your relief and Wooyoung’s annoyance, a man named San approached the two of you. Despite being fairly young, he was big and buff – a perfect friend to protect you from Wooyoung. 

“San. So, you are Y/N’s new friend, huh?” Wooyoung raised his brows in disbelief. 

The taller man didn’t even spare a glance at Wooyoung. His hands were busy wiping your tears and eyes shining a gentle light. Wooyoung’s blood was boiling as he watched how you took in all of San’s soothing touches and calming, quiet words. 

“You do know she’s a slut, right? Or are you her friend because of that?” 

San couldn’t have cared less about what Wooyoung had to say about you. He shot a glare at Wooyoung before wrapping a strong, comforting arm around your shoulder. 

Hands clenched into fists, Wooyoung watched the two of you walk away. In his imagination, he was ripping San into shreds. San who was now sucking on a lollipop you just offered him willingly. San who you hadn’t known for long but liked more than you liked Wooyoung. 

Before San could get his chance to sweep you off your feet, Wooyoung had to make his move. Instead of sucking on stolen lollipops he would switch to sucking on your clit. And he’d do it with a smile on his face. 

After school, Wooyoung saw his chance and took it. Given that he had spread rumors about you, it was easy to catch you walking alone when the school grounds were finally devoid of students. No-one wanted to get associated with you – no-one except for San apparently. 

Wooyoung found you at the lockers. There didn’t seem to be any people nearby, and he knew that he would have to act before San did. Besides, he had grown frustrated at jerking off every night; the mere thought of you forced his hand to wander to his growing erection. Ragged breaths and whispers of your name would slip past his lips as he stroked his length up and down. It never took long for him to come all over his stomach. 

“Y/N, I need to talk to you.” 

You recognized Wooyoung by just his voice; how could you not, when you had had to listen to his mocking laugh and annoying remarks for years already? You didn’t care to turn around to face him. 

“Look at me,” he demanded. 

Despite his usual domineering attitude, he couldn’t help but admit to himself reluctantly: it was hot how you ignored him. You weren’t focusing on him, and it made him embarrassed. It was unusual of you to act like that. 

“So, you’re getting cocky now that you finally have a friend? Are you going to whore yourself out to him too?” 

When he saw you slam the locker door close, he had thought you’d finally acknowledge him; instead, he watched your hips sway as you walked away from without even sparing a glance at him. Wooyoung felt his cock twitch, waking up at the way you had ignored him completely. He didn’t know whether to feel livid or lustful. All he knew was that he needed you now in any way possible. 

You heard footsteps following behind, obviously belonging to Wooyoung. Though him grabbing your wrist was not what you had expected. Although he tried to seem in control, his hand was shaking from desire and anticipation as he shoved you inside an empty classroom. 

You were close to falling on the floor as you stumbled from the force of Wooyoung’s push. The slam of the door and looming presence behind you indicated he had trapped the both of you inside. 

“Wooyoung, what the fuck?” you snapped at him. 

His response was unexpected yet somehow predicted; desperate to feel you, he pulled you into a kiss, his grip tight on your waist but gently holding your head. 

When you started kissing him back almost immediately, he felt like his heart would burst from unexplainable, intense emotions. He was drunken on the feeling of touching you, knowing that you wanted him back. Maybe not as much as he wanted you, but it was practically impossible after all to match the extent of the desire he had for you. 

Your lips on his was all that he thought he had hoped for but now he was growing hungry for more. It wasn’t enough. The kiss had been passionate from the start, but it turned greedy and almost desperate in Wooyoung’s case. When you slipped your tongue in, exploring his mouth skillfully, a whimper he had tried to hold back escaped past his lips. 

At the sound, you pulled away, leaving Wooyoung whining. 

“I didn’t know you were this desperate for me,” you whispered. 

A shiver ran up his spine. He could feel his control slipping away in a way he had thought impossible. 

“O-Only for you.” 

“So, what did you want to talk about?” your finger tracing his sharp jawline. 

Wooyoung’s mind was blank, fuzzy from your heavenly touch. It didn’t even matter anymore what he had wanted to talk about earlier; all he wanted now was your puffy, pink clit against his lips and your hands tugging at his black hair until his scalp hurt. 

“You can’t remember? That’s actually pathetic,” you cooed mockingly, “Just kissing me got you rock hard.” 

Wooyoung glanced down at his pants which had an obvious tent hiding his cock. It even twitched at your degrading words, and he was happy you couldn’t see that through the fabric. He had never expected to find the way you spoke to him arousing. Despite that, he had gotten harder than ever in a record-breaking speed. 

“Need you. N-Need to be inside you,” Wooyoung whined, cursing at himself in his mind for sounding so pitiful. No-one else had ever affected him like that, made him submit by just a few words. 

“You have to earn it.” 

“How? Please, Y/N...” 

As you walked to the teacher’s desk, Wooyoung followed you quickly. He was ready to do anything just to get to stuff you full, to feel your warm pussy squeeze and milk his cock dry. 

“Eat me out,” you commanded. 

Wooyoung had been waiting for this moment for too many years of his life. Your lips, which were indeed sweeter than all the lollipops, had finally given him the permission he thought he’d never receive. 

You watched his biceps flex as he lifted you up on the desk. Wooyoung pushed you to lie down, the gentleness in his moves contrasting the roughness of his earlier words and actions which had completely disappeared now. 

His trembling hands reached to take off your skirt, but your firm voice was enough to stop him in his tracks. 

“Wait.” 

You took out your phone from the pocket of your hoodie. Wooyoung’s expression turned confused as the phone camera was suddenly directed at him – yet he couldn’t deny the excitement. 

“I’m going to film you, and you’re going to do what I say.” 

His eyes widened slightly at your words, kind of having had suspected it but never had expected it. Still, he didn’t even hesitate. 

“What should I do?” 

“Take off my panties. The skirt stays on.” 

A pout formed on Wooyoung’s lips. It was all so new to see him this way, all whiny and needy; it was new to him as well. He had never thought he’d react this way to someone taking control over him. 

“But I want to see you wholly!” 

You let out a short chuckle. The way it felt more like degrading amusement than of sympathy made Wooyoung almost whimper. You had brought a whole new side out of him that just needed your attention and praises. 

“Too bad. Now get to work.” 

Your back was against the desk, and Wooyoung lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders as he crouched down, facing your core now. Only thing separating him from the meal he had dreamed of for years was your lace panties. They stuck to your pussy deliciously, and Wooyoung brushed his fingers against them. The damp fabric was a clear sign of your arousal, and he felt more blood pump to his painfully hard cock. 

His thumb found your clit surprisingly quick and started rubbing circles on it. The small moans that escaped your mouth mesmerized him; they were even prettier than he had imagined. Only complaint Wooyoung had was that they were too quiet. He needed to make them louder so that he’d never forget them. 

As he slid off your panties, you hissed at the feeling of the cool air hitting your sensitive clit. However, you didn’t have to suffer for long, because Wooyoung started warming it up. His hot tongue against your pussy, his face half-hidden under your miniskirt. 

Wooyoung really succeeded in making your moans sound even sweeter. It felt like he was sending the tiniest electric shocks to your clit, every flick and lick of his tongue making your lower half burn with desire. For so many years he had been starving for your pussy, to have it in every way possible. 

“So good...” you approved, sounding a little too desperate to your liking. 

The way Wooyoung whimpered in response, how it sent vibrations on your core... It made you clench around nothing. You were already wet for him, ready for his cock which had occupied your fantasies for so many nights. 

“Y/N, p-please, let me fuck you. Let me cum inside you,” Wooyoung’s high-pitched voice accompanied the wet sounds of him eating you out. 

The faint ticking of a wall clock caught your attention as you were considering Wooyoung’s plead. It was just a minute to five o’clock; how fun would it be to challenge the desperate man between your legs a little? 

“Make me cum in a minute and I’ll let you have me in any way you want.” 

Wooyoung wasted no time; he grabbed your thighs in a bruising grip to keep you from shifting away every time you got close. Clearly, he could feel the way they trembled, because his moans started getting more frequent. 

“W-Woo, you have 30 seconds left.” 

He wrapped his lips around your puffy clit and sucked on it harshly, making both your heart and pussy flutter. The video footage you’d have of this wouldn’t win any Oscars; your shaky hands couldn’t keep the phone stable and straight. And maybe material this pornographic wouldn’t pass as an appropriate candidate anyways. 

As your hips started bucking involuntarily, Wooyoung held onto you tighter, his tongue working even harder. It didn’t take long for him to get what he desired; your cry of pleasure echoed in the classroom. From now on, the sound would ring in Wooyoung’s ears every time he thought about you. 

He didn’t stop, just continuing to lap at your juices until you were overstimulated and your core beginning to feel like on fire. 

“Hey, stop it! You succeeded already,” you pushed Wooyoung away with your foot. 

He let out a pathetic whimper. How could he go back to eating normal meals after tasting the heaven between your thighs? 

“Look at the camera.” 

Wooyoung raised his gaze from your core to the phone shoved up in his face. Your phone case looked so innocent, baby pink and cute, a stark contrast to how you actually were. For so long Wooyoung had lied to everyone about you being a whore, but now he was the one acting like a bitch in heat. 

“Tell everyone how I taste like.” 

“S-So good. So sweet,” Wooyoung licked your juices off his lips. 

“Good boy. You’ll get your reward now,” you said, a mockery of being truly proud of him. 

Wooyoung’s hands immediately started working on the zipper of his pants that felt almost suffocatingly tight around his lower area. You chuckled, watching how he had trouble getting his cock out due to how his hands were trembling in excitement. 

Finally, it sprung out, standing tall. Prominent veins were adorning it – a pretty sight indeed. Maybe someday you’d grant him the permission to fuck your warm throat, but that was for later when he would have learned his place properly. 

Wooyoung jerked his hand on his cock, the tip of it almost as red as his flushed cheeks. A glint of hunger in his hazy eyes focused on your face before they fell on your chest. 

“Get inside my cunt already,” you demanded, “before I get bored.” 

Wooyoung immediately snapped out of his thoughts, scared you’d take his rights to your pussy away, and guided his painfully hard cock to your core. He slid inside easily, and he could swear that he almost painted your walls white the moment your warmth enveloped him. 

“Fuck, f-fuck...” he groaned out, fighting back the primal urge to ram into you like an animal. 

Your pussy was soothing yet like a slap on the face for how intense it felt. Better than his hand, better than anyone he’s ever touched, better than he had ever imagined. 

Wooyoung grabbed your hips. His grip was tight; he was so lost in the pleasure that he had forgotten to be gentle. But luckily you wanted it rough. 

He started moving his hips slowly, every thrust threatening to make him cum early. You had had bigger ones than Wooyoung was, but the way he whimpered desperately was unlike anything you had seen before. 

As Wooyoung adjusted to the feeling of your pussy squeezing him tight, his hips started working faster, almost like they had the mind of their own. He could get used to this; used but never bored. 

“Please, can I see them?” 

You wondered what Wooyoung meant with his breathy request, “What do you want to see?” 

“Your tits. P-Pretty please,” he looked into your eyes, desperate like he was starving for even a glimpse. 

He had been fully expecting for a nice bra to cover your chest, but when he saw you lift your shirt and reveal your bare tits, it surprised him pleasantly. A gasp of pleasure slipped past your lips as Wooyoung’s latched onto one of your nipples, providing great pressure as he sucked on it. You couldn’t decide if it was painful or pleasurable – those two could exist at the same time, right? 

He thrusted into you in a desperate manner, his hips stuttering and the rhythm unsteady. 

“I-I want you so – fuck – so bad...” 

You tried to scoff but the sound came out as something between a moan and a huff of air. 

“You have me, you ungrateful brat. Is t-this not enough?” 

Wooyoung cried out, fondling with your breasts, holding onto them like a lifeline. 

“It is, it is! But I want to cum inside. Let me put a baby in you.” 

Involuntarily, your cunt clenched around Wooyoung’s cock which made him gasp. He tried so hard not to cum already, he really wanted to be good for you and for you to unravel for him first. 

“Don’t you dare cum yet,” you warned him icily. 

Wooyoung’s pace quickened, and his cock threatened to slip out from how wet and tight you were for him. He watched your flushed face in awe, taking a mental picture with his eyes. He would make sure he saw this sight, your pussy swallowing his cock inside, every week, preferably every day, from now on. 

You took hold of his black locks and yanked his face closer to you for a kiss. It was wet, and Wooyoung swore he could taste lollipops on your tongue. Unfortunately, it reminded him of the way San had received one from you. That smug bastard could have tainted your lips first. 

The need to mark you as his grew stronger. If San ever got even close to your pussy, it would be so full of Wooyoung’s seed, that he’d never be able to fit his cock in. Your pussy was molded for Wooyoung. 

As you started moaning his name, he felt the throb on his cock that needed release right now. Despite your command he wouldn’t be able to hold back long anymore. 

“P-Please, let me fill you up!.. I’ve been good, h-haven't I?” 

He was such a pretty boy already, but desperate whimpers make a man even hotter. You couldn’t deny him when he was ramming inside you roughly yet with a submissive, gentle look on his face, eyebrows furrowed. There was the slightest bit of drool sliding past his parted lips. 

“Knock me up, baby,” you moaned breathily. 

At your permission, Wooyoung cried out in pleasure as his cum finally shot deep inside you. His legs barely worked, almost failing and letting him fall onto the floor by how intense his orgasm was. 

With just a few, last powerful thrusts you came as well with a moan you thought of as humiliating, but Wooyoung would describe as only the most beautiful sound in the world. 

He gazed at you with embarrassingly fond eyes, like he had just made love to you romantically instead of fucking with you in an empty classroom. But how could he treat you like shit anymore after getting a taste of his own personal heaven? 

“I’m yours,” he whispered. 

You just scoffed, humored by the change of tone he used to speak with, “Okay?” 

He shouldn’t have gotten hard again by your indifferent words, but he couldn’t help but enjoy the way the girl he had bullied had put him in his place, gotten him wrapped right around her little finger. 

Next day at school, Wooyoung felt like all eyes were on him. Whispers and mocking gazes had shifted from you to him. You had shared the video of him eating you out to the whole school. His flushed face coated in your juices, his thirsty whimpers and messy hair; it was all for everyone to see and speculate on. Had Wooyoung paid to have sex with the school’s supposed slut? He hadn’t but he would even sell his parents’ house just to do it again. 

[justakaku]

Hi again this is 🎀 anon and you ate that last chapter down oml you did amazing i hope your taking good care of yourself you are amazing and I would really love to see what you come up with next chapter

Signing off sincerely 🎀 anon

Thank you!!🥹🥹🥹I was pretty insecure of that chapter since it was more of a laidback one but I'm happy you actually appreciated it! I'm going to start writing the new chapter soon but it might take some time depending on my flow😭😭... I have a pretty bad flu rn so my energy levels are downnn but once I get better I hope I'll have enough brain activity to even think about writing lol! Take care of yourself🫶

[justakaku]

Actually, I always read your username as juustotaku before, but I just realized that it was actually juustokaku

Juustotaku sounds actually cuter🥹🥹I'm planning to change my username because my parents know it and I don't want them to find my profile😭😭.... soooo I'll steal this for my list of name ideas✍️

[justakaku]

OMG NEW CHAPTER CANT WAIT TO READ IT ONCE I GET HOME OMG OMG I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I SAW THE NOTIFICATION I ALMOST FELL DOWN AND ATE PAVEMENT - 🐶

AAAHHHH I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO WRITE IT😭😭😭I HOPE YOU'LL LIKE THE CHAPTER!!❤️❤️❤️🥹It's a little different but hopefully good enough🤭🤭

[justakaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 9. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, violence. Dark themes are to be expected. A/N: Long time no see... It has been almost two months since the last chapter but here it is! I had planned to finish this after Christmas but I was sick for the rest of the vacation TT. This chapter isn't that full of action, but it has some important details. Word count: 3 453

There you were, sitting in a circle on the floor like in kindergarten, gathered around a board game. As if the setting hadn’t reminded you of your early childhood enough already, the guys you were sitting with were making it even more nostalgic with their childish fighting. 

“No, Wooyoung! You can’t move four spaces when the dice shows only two!” San exclaimed, grabbing Wooyoung’s token from the game board, which was a single macaroni found from the floor. He moved the token two steps behind from where Wooyoung had set it.

Yeosang and you exchanged concerned glances as San and Wooyoung started arguing about the macaroni’s rightful place. You were still feeling quite bitter about Wooyoung presenting your menstrual pad to everyone earlier during the day, so you hoped San would win the battle. 

Unfortunately, suddenly Yeosang and San’s dry macaroni pieces were snatched from the board, and disappeared into Wooyoung’s mouth. All three of you watched in horror as Wooyoung swallowed them before turning to look at you. 

With a creepy grin on his lips, he leaned closer to you. In return you leaned slightly away, enough to not feel his breath on your skin but to keep it polite, but you couldn’t escape from Wooyoung’s intense gaze challenging you. 

“It looks like you and I are the only ones left in the game, baby,” he smirked. 

You wondered how you got into the situation of playing with macaronis with grown men. The plan for the night had been to sleep at Yeosang’s place, so you wouldn’t have to sit in front of your front door, waiting for morning and the locksmith to arrive. In an area like that, you never felt safe even in your own apartment building at night. 

But you didn’t feel exactly safe now either. Yeosang was your friend, trustworthy enough for you to sleep at his place, but surprisingly there was an addition of two men, both from the infamous therapy group. Apparently, they had come there earlier to have a game night with Yeosang. If they stayed the night, you couldn’t guarantee you’d ever wake up again. Or if they were merciful enough to let you live, your head would have been shaved bald like a bright bowling ball – most likely from Wooyoung’s suggestion. 

“I don’t want to play anymore,” San huffed after he had been forcefully kicked out from the game. 

Yeosang nodded his head, “Me neither. Let’s do something else.” 

The macaroni-devourer man frowned, ready to throw a fit, “You’re just sore losers. Y/N and I can play although you two are bad at this game.” 

You wanted desperately to do something else, afraid of what could happen when the game was only between you and Wooyoung. His eyes were fixed on you like San and Yeosang’s macaronis weren’t the only thing he wanted to eat – you'd be the next one swallowed. 

“I-I think changing the activity is a good idea,” you muttered. 

Wooyoung couldn’t do anything when all three of you were against him.  

He wasn’t complaining for long though when he got the permission, not from you but Yeosang and San, to spread home-made facial mask on you. Your bottom was hurting from sitting on the floor for so long, but you kept silent; San would probably volunteer as your official chair, setting you on his lap, if you said a word. 

The room was dim, and there was relaxing music for meditation playing on the background, failing to ease your nerves. Wooyoung’s face was way too close to yours; if you leaned a little closer, you would be able to kiss his pretty lips. He was rubbing the facial mask on your cheeks, squeezing them together until your lips pursed. 

“You look like a duck,” Wooyoung stated. 

The frown he got from you as response made him chuckle, “A cute one. My pretty little duckling.” 

You could see Yeosang and San, who were doing facial masks for each other, looking at you, listening intently every word that left Wooyoung’s lips and watching your reactions. It felt like they were evaluating you, but you had no idea what was the correct reaction they wanted. 

“Eyes on me.” 

Quickly, you turned your gaze back on Wooyoung, who was looking at you much more seriously now. It was for a second only when his eyes were stern and void of any light, but then he smiled mischievously again. The hand which had tightened around your cheeks went back to spreading the mask on your face. The way he massaged you would have made you relaxed if it wasn’t for the crazed look on his face just a moment ago. 

Were you just overthinking? It wasn’t unusual of you to see people’s expressions and gestures as alarming. A smile from a stranger passing by was the grin of a psychopath planning how to kill you, and a baby looking at you in the queue was a robot sent to spy on you, its eyes serving as cameras, filming your every move. 

You recognized those thoughts as insane; robot babies couldn’t look that real after all. 

“Is it done?” you asked Wooyoung when he took his hands off of your face. 

“Close your eyes and lean your head back for me, would you?” 

If it had been just the two of you, you would have never put yourself into a position of vulnerability in front of Wooyoung. Even blinking was too risky when that menace was close to you. 

However, San and Yeosang would hopefully protect you if Wooyoung tried anything. You followed his request and let your eyes close. 

Soon something wet weighed on your eyelids, and you could only guess Wooyoung had placed slices of cucumber. 

“Voila! Master Wooyoung has finished his masterpiece,” you could hear the man clasp his hands together, “Time for the payment.” 

“I thought this was free!” 

“Oh, come on. I don’t need much.” 

Suddenly, you could feel his breath tickling your ear. It had been a mistake to close your eyes, considering that man was capable of anything – except when it came to things that required thinking sanely. 

Your body tensed up, sitting straighter and fists clenched in nervousness. 

“I just need a little kiss. Show those two that I have your full attention.” 

Wooyoung’s whisper was warm on your skin but it still made goosebumps rise. The words shouldn’t have shocked you, given the fact they were said by him. They could have been considered attractive by someone, but you knew better – at least you thought so. 

“Please. Even on the cheek. Just a small peck.” 

 Wooyoung pressed his face into your hair, sniffing it. As you tried to lean away from him, he grabbed your head and brought it back to his nose. He definitely took his time filling his nostrils with your scent, every breath out making your skin tingle. 

“Smells...” he spoke, “Smells like shit. Go take a shower, girl.” 

Just like that the intense moment had been cut off. You took the cucumber slices off of your eyes to look at Wooyoung who was grinning widely. You weren’t the only one glaring at him, since Yeosang and San had heard his insult too. 

“Watch your mouth,” to your surprise it was Yeosang who warned Wooyoung. He looked even madder than you or San who was often the more confrontative one. 

Still, you were embarrassed by Wooyoung’s comment, fearing that you were stinky for real. As you moved away from him to sit with Yeosang and San, his grin fell downwards, now a worried pout. 

“Y/N, come back here,” Wooyoung whined. 

“No. If I’m so smelly, you should be happy I’m staying far away from you.” 

If you hadn’t felt bad for him, seeing his sad, regretful eyes, you would have felt proud. Finally, you had defended yourself – in some sense at least. 

Unfortunately, him and San had decided to stay for the night. Wooyoung was sentenced to sleeping on the floor without a mattress for insulting your scent, while San got the second worst option, couch, not because he did anything wrong though. 

You felt awkward, wearing Yeosang’s t-shirt and sweatpants as nightwear. He had generously lent them, so you wouldn’t feel bad about sleeping on his bed with the clothes you had been wearing during the day. Wooyoung’s comment had left you afraid of being stinky. 

Yeosang made sure you had climbed onto the bed comfortably before turning the lights off and settling in the bed with you. Both of you stayed silent, staring at the ceiling. Yeosang and you were close, having spent quite a lot of time together, but being this close physically was nerve-wracking. Perhaps not in a bad way. 

“You don’t reek, Y/N. Your smell is very pleasant.” 

His quiet assurance surprised you but eased your fears, which Wooyoung had brought back on surface with his careless comment. It hadn’t been the first time you were called stinky. “Sweaty sock – Y/N” was what the other kids had called you. Was it really your fault if your parents had been too poor to buy you more than three pairs of socks? 

Yeosang and you fell asleep after some time of quietly conversing, sharing your concerns and thoughts about who might have stolen your keys. Some people would have told you that you just forgot them on the floor, but Yeosang disagreed; he was on your side like always. 

It was dark so there was no use to even opening your eyes. Still, they fluttered open in the middle of the night as you were woken up by the hot puffs of air hitting the nape of your neck. In and out, you could hear someone breathing heavily. Goosebumps rose on your skin. 

An arm was slung around your waist, holding onto you tight. It was a vulnerable position, not seeing who had trapped you in their excuse of an embrace. But you had a feeling who it could be. 

“W-Wooyoung?” 

“I’m flattered you knew it was me.” 

You sighed in relief, not necessarily because Wooyoung was supposedly a safe person, but he probably wouldn’t have the balls to murder you when Yeosang was sleeping next to you. 

“You know, I could do anything to you right now.” 

Never mind. He was a man capable of everything. 

Wooyoung’s arms tightened around you, his hand finding its way to touch the place on your chest where your heart lied, not too deep away from your skin. It raced like it would explode in your chest any moment now. 

“I was too scared to sleep alone, but based on your heartbeat it seems like you’re the one more scared,” he chuckled. 

“Could you rather cuddle with Yeosang?” 

The silence that followed your words was threatening; it hung in the air, thick and tense. Wooyoung’s breaths felt heavier on the nape of your neck. It was clear you had said something wrong. 

“Don’t be silly. Why would you want me to cuddle with someone else?” 

“Because I’m uncomfortable.” 

You could feel Wooyoung almost flinching at your words, but you couldn’t understand. Did he really think you wanted him to cuddle with you? The two of you didn’t know each other well, not to mention he called you stinky, so you had no desire to be close to him despite being quite touch-starved. 

“But I’m scared.” 

“What are you scared of?” 

Wooyoung stayed silent for a couple seconds like he was hesitant, but then he spoke. 

“I’ve been receiving weird phone calls, letters, and text messages.” 

The man’s revelation caught your interest. You didn’t like hearing the word ‘letters’ at all, but this could be a lead to what you had experienced before Jongho’s disappearing. 

“Tell me more, please.” 

Wooyoung sighed, sounding relieved that you didn’t dismiss his experiences, “They are practically all the same. Phone calls, letters, text messages... they all tell me the same date. Nothing more.” 

So, Wooyoung’s letters didn’t have any proper writing there. Therefore, you couldn’t compare the handwriting in your letters to the one on his. Maybe you could check if the letters had been written with the same pen. 

“Can you show me one of those letters?” 

“I don’t have pictures of them,” despite not being able to see him, the smirk on Wooyoung’s face was obvious from his voice, “But you could come to my place, and I’ll show you.” 

That didn’t sound like fun time at all. You’d step nowhere near Wooyoung’s apartment if you didn’t have strong men like San or Yeosang for protection. Or Jongho. Jongho who had been missing for quite a while already, disappeared like he never had even existed in your life. 

“Can’t you bring the letters somewhere public?” 

Wooyoung sounded pouty when you refused his offer, “Oh, come on. I’ll cook something for you. A sensual, romantic dinner without Jongho tossing plates at everyone.” 

You didn’t know whether to chuckle or get sad just at the thought of Jongho. Most of all, you were just left surprised. 

“You know about that?” 

“Of course I know. Yeosang shares everything and everyone with us,” Wooyoung giggled, squeezing your waist. 

He knew just how to sound as creepy as possible; you weren’t even sure if the insinuation was about you, but your gut feeling demanded you to stay far away from him. 

Despite your desperate need for safety, you had to find out more about who had been contacting Wooyoung in such weird ways. The chances of your stalker and the one having sent Wooyoung letters being the same person were quite big. It may have sounded crazy, but you had to accept his offer. 

“Fine,” as soon as you opened your mouth, you already regretted your decision, yet couldn’t take it back, “I’ll come to your house but Yeosang will come too.” 

It didn’t seem like Wooyoung was bothered by it at all. Eventually he dozed off, happily holding you like you were his favorite childhood plush animal to sleep with, which he had drooled on and squeezed to death for years already. You had a little harder time falling asleep, but it was impossible to fight back the exhaustion forever. 

“No, it’s not the time yet.” 

“Why not? It’s the perfect opportunity.” 

“You’re too impatient.” 

You woke up alone in Yeosang’s dim bedroom. It was a beautiful weekend morning but you didn’t feel quite fresh; Wooyoung’s embrace hadn’t left you a lot of space to breathe, and now you felt like a sad, deflated balloon. 

The voices coming from behind the door were quiet and it was hard to hear all of the words being spoken, but Wooyoung’s voice was so much louder that it became easy to recognize the subject of the conversation by context. 

“I think she woke up, so shut your mouths. I’m going to check up on her.” 

You barely had time to close your eyes before San was standing by the bedroom door, inspecting your act of sleeping which definitely looked less natural than you wanted it to. 

Maybe it was your shaky breaths or the unusual sleeping position that gave you away, but San immediately noticed your attempts at fooling him. 

“I’ve seen you sleep before. Stop acting like I wouldn’t notice that you’re awake,” San chuckled. 

With your sleepy brain, you didn’t even pay attention to his words carefully. 

You heard the door closing, but opening your eyes immediately would have been a risky move. All you could do was keep quiet and eyes shut for a second before checking if the door had left San outside or let him in. 

A few moments passed, and the room was full of tense silence. It was nerve-wracking, not being able to see what and who was around you. You held your shaky breaths in case San was still in the room. 

But after some time, it felt like you were alone. Your eyes opened carefully. 

San was in front of you, crouching. Even in the dim room you could see the wide smile, dimples prominent on his cheeks. The way his eyes were staring straight into your soul made your heart skip a beat – not in a good way. They weren’t unkind, almost even too eager which made it worse. His face was so close to yours that you could hear whenever he swallowed. 

“You heard us, right?” San’s smile made you feel uneasy. 

He clearly didn’t believe you as you shook your head ‘no’. 

“Liar. Do you want to know what we talked about?” 

This time, you weren’t sure whether to shake your head or nod. The things he’d reveal could be terrifying and make you feel unsafe. However, you couldn’t just stay oblivious; you nodded. 

San stayed silent and stood up from your level to his full height. He looked down at you as he spoke. 

“You’ll find out sooner than later, princess. Just don’t worry for now.” 

San’s words, the conversation they were having, and Wooyoung’s mention of someone contacting him had left you puzzled. As you arrived back home when the locksmith had finally granted you an access to your own apartment, you thought you’d feel safe again. 

But as your gaze fell on the state of your home, you decided it; you’d stop going to the peer support therapy. You’d report a crime to the police. There was no way you could keep this up, even though it meant that the social assistance would be gone. 

Even by the first glance, you could see the television screen which didn’t look broken by accident. Many other surfaces that once presented your reflection had been shattered as well. It looked like the mirrors had been smashed with a hard object – definitely intentionally. 

The glass doors of your cabinet were in smithereens on the floor and the objects from inside it, that were dear to you, had been stolen. In the middle of all the fear, a pang of annoyance perked its head up at the knowledge that the robber could have just opened the doors to get your prized possessions from inside the cabinet. 

But it wasn’t just a mere robber. You wished it had been, but what kind of a robber would have left a small teddy bear sitting neatly on the couch? 

Your careful steps were quiet but the beating of your heart wasn’t. You knew you should have called the police before walking into your own home which had become now a crime scene, but the plush bear basically called out your name. 

When your fingertips brushed against the soft fur, a song suddenly started playing from the teddy bear. Almost anyone would have found the beat familiar, and by the first words you recognized the song to be “Every Breath You Take” by The Police. It was a song some people used at their weddings but you had always thought the lyrics were creepy. 

The sound was crappy and lyrics barely comprehensible. The song choice definitely wasn’t coincidental. You knew the stalker was back – and this time he had already been inside your apartment. Someone had definitely stolen your keys at the yesterday’s therapy appointment and paid a visit to your home. 

It took too long for you to come to your senses, but you eventually took out your phone. Your shaky fingers tapped on the screen, dialing the emergency number. Your head was spinning with fear, senses heightened and listening to every possible sound in the apartment other than the singing teddy bear. 

“Every bond you break, every step you take, I’ll be watching you.” 

The plush bear kept serenading you. Its crackling voice and the beeping sound the phone made filled the silent apartment. Every second felt too long; the stalker could still be in your home, watching you. 

The beeping sound stopped and your heart lurched when a calm voice answered. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” 

Finally, some help. If the police believed you, maybe the stalker would eventually get caught. They had never believed you before with those multiple desperate and distrustful reports, but this time you had evidence other than just your own suspicions. 

You were about to explain the situation urgently when the teddy bear suddenly interrupted. Apparently, it could do more than just sing. 

“I love you so much. I hope you know that I’m always by your side, behind you and in front of you. I’m in every direction and place, every corner and space. I love you. So. Much!” 

You found it hard to believe the factory would have given the teddy bear lines like that. Someone very romantic had recorded a personal message for you. 

“Hello? Is someone there?” the emergency number operator asked. 

“Hopefully just me,” you answered.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <- Chapter 8. Chapter 10. -> Masterlist ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Taglist: @devilzliaison @lover-with-dolar-sign-is-a-loser @passerbyforfun @gigikubolong29 @peqchplvto @eighttens @all-of-kpop @castingjinx @jsprien213 @cooldeermagazine 

[justakaku]

I never do this but damn. Oh my gosh your writing is amazing I am absolutely hooked ughhh it's so tea like to the point of tears 🎀 please do continue to write it real is amazing, but please also take a break and take care of yourself make sure to eat and drink lots love anon🎀

Thank you sweetie🥹🥹I feel quite guilty since the last chapter was published like two months ago, but there has been a lot going on lately and I've been stressed out💔💔💔I'm happy you like my writing and I'll try my best to live up to your expectations! Take care of yourself💋

[justakaku]

Hiii~ I don't usually interact with anyone on here even anonymously due to my anxiety but I really wanted to let you know how much I love Confidentiality. Aside from the amazing plot, I can see myself a lot in the thoughts and reactions of the main character and that's something not a lot of writers can touch on. Atleast not this much. So thank you a lot for writing this story and the character so thoughtfully. I can't wait to read future chapters to see where you will take the story. The way you write makes me feel like I'm really in the story too. The confusion, the question I get, who to trust. Everything is very well written.

I wish you happy holidays and hope to read more from you soon!

Omg hearing this makes me so glad❣️In my opinion, one of the best things that a writer can do is writing characters in a way that they are relatable and bring a sense of being understood. I'm elated that I've managed to make a character that you can relate to!❤️‍🩹I appreciate this kind of feedback a lot and that you had the courage to write this ask🫂Happy holidays and take care of yourself!🫶🫶🫶

[justakaku]

I'm sorry, but I can't wait for the continuation of the confidentiality story:" I hope you have a great day<3

I should be the one to apologize🥹🥹I've been writing a lot of stuff at the same time and stressing about Christmas but the new chapter is about ⅓ ready, and I'll probably finish it sometime soon❤️Thank you for your patience and have an awesome day! Happy holidays!❤️‍🩹

[justakaku]

Another load of Jealousy - Yunho x f!reader

Summary: Yunho isn't about to even entertain the idea of his girlfriend talking to another man. It doesn't matter how many loads of love, care, and cum it takes to make her remember that she is his and he is hers. Genre: smut (mdni!!!) Pairings: bf!Yunho x f!reader Tags/Warnings: SMUT MDNI, mean dom!yunho (kinda sweet after some time), sub!reader, fingering(?), penetration, unprotected sex, established relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding kink, choking, bulge (lmk if something is missing, I have never done this) A/N: This is the 3rd smut I've ever written in my life... I haven't posted the first two since they were written a couple years ago and were bad, so I hope this is worth posting. The plot isn't anything great because this was mostly for trying to see what it's like to write smut and I didn't want to waste a good plot on this if this turned out bad LOLLL. So please, keep in mind that I've almost never written smut! Word count: 2 300 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If someone asked you if you loved Yunho, you’d answer ‘yes’ in a heartbeat. He was more than just a lover or a boyfriend; he was your worshipper, kissing the ground you walked on. And if someone asked you if you’d ever cheat on him, you’d give a firm ‘no’ and tell the person off. Although you wanted to make it clear to everyone you were Yunho’s girl because you loved him, it wasn’t the only reason to push people away. You’d be in big trouble if he started to consider the possibility of you holding affectionate feelings for anyone else than him. 

“Baby, what are you doing? ~” 

Despite Yunho’s needy tone and presence next to you on the couch, you couldn’t tear your gaze off of your phone. 

“Wait a second, Yuyu,” you murmured. 

He watched as your fingers tap-danced on the small screen, obviously writing a message to someone. Someone who was robbing him of your attention. Your eyes reflected the light coming from the phone screen but Yunho’s eyes shone with something else. He was getting frustrated. 

“Please, I’m lonely,” he whined, his hand creeping up on your thigh, trying to go unnoticed yet wanting desperately for you to pay attention to him. 

Still, you didn’t even glance at him. It was subtle but Yunho noticed how you tried to hide your phone screen, leaning away ever so slightly. 

The longer your attention was on the mysterious person you were talking to, the angrier Yunho became. 

You felt him squeeze your thigh, silently demanding you to finally look at him in the eyes. It was a final warning. Only when his long fingers dug onto your inner thigh, you turned to face him. 

“Who are you talking to?” 

Yunho’s icy voice shouldn’t have surprised you – this was nothing new, given his possessive nature. And like always, while it made you nervous, it also caused your pussy to clench around nothing. You couldn’t help but get horny when he looked like he’d devour you any second now. 

“Just work stuff,” you murmured, taking a glance at his hand. No matter how many times his beautiful fingers had been inside you, reaching the deepest, sweetest spots, you just couldn’t get enough. 

“At this hour? That’s bullshit.” 

While Yunho’s eyes were cold, they were undeniably burning with both fury and lust. You knew the look way too well just like he knew your body. 

“I’m friends with him so I feel comfortable texting him even in the evening. It’s just about a work project.” 

“Him?” Yunho’s eyes narrowed. 

You were too nervous to break eye contact with him, but you didn’t need to see to feel his hand hover over your core, so close but so far. Even though he was barely touching you, he was probably able to feel how your wetness seeped through your night shorts. 

“Please, Yunho... Don’t tease me,” you let out a quiet whine, hoping it’d persuade Yunho into touching you. 

Immediately, he pulled you roughly into a kiss. In a normal situation he would have kept you begging for him, but right now his desire and anger towards you were too much to handle for both of you. His lips claimed yours and showed no mercy or signs of going easy on you. You were enthusiastic to kiss him back, but his need to have you was even stronger. 

The way he started nearly biting on your lips would have soon left bruises, if you hadn’t pulled away. The both of you were breathing heavily after the intense moment, but Yunho wasted no time in trying to rest. 

“Who is that coworker? A friend you say?” 

You felt your pussy get wetter by his demanding words and you tried your best to give him an answer – one that would satisfy him enough yet encourage him to fuck you senseless. 

“We’re not close, but enough to be considered friends-! Yunho!..” 

He interrupted you with his fingers suddenly under your clothing, circling your clit. 

“What do you need friends for when I’m here? Don’t I give you all you need?” 

You squirmed around at the movements of Yunho’s skillful hands. It was hard not to feel even slightly embarrassed; you didn’t want him to know how aroused his possessiveness made you. 

“Y-You can’t do work projects for me... I need him.” 

Your choice of words pushed the wrong buttons in Yunho, and he took his hand out of your panties. He didn’t care when you whined at the loss of contact, just pure jealousy burning in his eyes. 

“You say you need him? Baby, I’m all you need,” his voice was low and dangerous, “There’s nothing and no-one else.” 

It didn’t take long for him to have dragged you into the bedroom, his fingers wrapped around your wrist in a bruising grip. You tried to savor every moment despite knowing there were more to come after this. 

The streetlights outside were the only source of light in your dim bedroom. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, but apparently Yunho saw well enough to push you onto the bed. Maybe he wouldn’t have cared anyways if he had pushed you accidentally on the floor. Whenever he got like this, satisfying his need to claim you was the top priority. 

“Strip.” 

You immediately started taking off your nightwear which you had just changed to after shower. Your hair was still damp and smelling like your shampoo. It was definite you’d have to take a shower again after this – preferably with Yunho. 

“You’re too slow,” he scolded. The way he started pulling your shorts and panties off was surprisingly gentle; even though he was mad at you, he was still your mere worshipper and saw you as his goddess. 

Finally, when you saw him properly, your breath caught in your throat. He wasn’t standing, just on his knees on the bed, but his height was still intimidating. You loved it though. You loved every moment of this, and your pussy throbbed with desire to have him fill you up to the brim. 

His chest was heaving with anticipation, and although seeing it bare always excited you, your eyes were fixated on that cock of his. 

“I-It’s bigger than I remembered...” 

“You’re going to take it nonetheless. You don’t deserve this after how you’ve acted but I need this now,” Yunho stated, his tone leaving no room for discussion. 

You felt like a prey, his next meal, as you watched him crawl closer on the bed and lay you down rather harshly. The intense eye contact just added to the arousal you felt leaking out of you. You needed him so bad, and your legs spread open automatically to give him way to your core that was aching for him. 

“You need a damn reminder every week of who you belong to. I don’t know if I want you to stop teasing me like that or not,” Yunho whispered, his right hand finding its way to your neck, “At least I get to fuck you like this.” 

He turned your gaze back up to him by gripping your neck, when you tried to look at his cock. You managed to see how its tip was covered in clear precum. It was as hard as it always was when you had moments like this, if not even harder. You wondered how it had ever managed to fit inside you with the impressive girth and length. 

“Look at me in the eyes. I want you to look at me clearly so you’ll remember my face every time you talk to another man.” 

You didn’t have time to process Yunho’s words. As he pushed his cock inside you, it was impossible to think about anything else than him. Although you were as wet as ever for him, it was still almost hard to take him in. No matter how many times he had made love to or fucked you, no matter how fast and rough or slow and romantic, he stretched you up nicely every time. 

“My girl. My baby,” Yunho muttered more to himself than to you. His hips had started moving some time ago already, but only now you were coming down back to Earth. 

His hand was on your neck like to use it to support himself, but the grip was still somewhat gentle. It tightened every time he thrusted in, and the lack of air just made you lose your mind in the pleasure even more. 

Your walls were slippery and starting to adjust to his size, so he slid inside with ease. It didn’t mean there was no delicious friction left though. 

“Who do you belong to? Him or me?” he growled into your ear. Although the pace of his hips had grown faster, he made sure to push deep inside you, drawing out every moan he could get from you. 

Your attempt to answer was cut off quickly as Yunho’s hands started squeezing your throat. It would have been hard to breathe even if you weren’t breathless already from having him ram your insides. 

“Answer me. A little choking shouldn’t shut you up like this.” 

Again, you tried to tell Yunho that you were only his to love, fuck, and take care of. But he held your throat tighter again, clearly teasing you. It was impossible to win this game, and you loved it that way. 

A mocking smirk spread on Yunho’s lips, “You don’t have to say it. I know you’re mine by the way I’m the only who ever gets to be balls deep inside you.” 

He released your neck and pressed his hand lightly on your lower stomach. It was no secret that your boyfriend’s cock was big, but the way you could see a clear bulge, the way your lower abdomen moved up and down with Yunho’s thrusts, made you clench down on him. 

“F-Fuck... You make it so hard to stay mad at you,” he groaned out. 

You watched his eyebrows furrow as if he was holding back. Finally, you had been able to catch your breath, although it was still difficult due to his relentless thrusts. 

“I love you. I’m yours, Yunho...” 

Your pleasured admission not only softened his heart a bit but made him even more lustful. He knew you were his. If you tried to leave him, he’d find a way to make you stay – even with force if necessary. But hearing you say out loud once again that you were his satisfied him. 

“I know. I know, my pretty girl, and I love you too,” his eyes met yours in a gentle way even. 

A loud moan slipped past your lips as Yunho’s fingers found your clit, finally continuing what he had started on the couch in the living room. Circling, pressing, and pinching on it – he did it all. Your sensitive skin tingled and almost felt like on fire. 

“W-Will you fill me up?” you grasped at the sheets under you, making them all rumpled and look unkempt. They were dirty anyways due to the sweating. 

Yunho moved your hands on his shoulders. There was nothing more that he wanted than to see your nail scrapes on his skin, a mark of who he belonged to. 

“I’ll fill you up, baby. My cum will be leaking out,” he looked at you before turning his eyes to his cock, slightly amused, “I’ll just fuck a new load tomorrow then. You’ll have my babies in no time.” 

His talk about breeding you brought you closer to your release, and he definitely noticed it by the way your pussy squeezed his thick cock. 

“Look at your pussy, how it’s clenching down on me. It likes to be bred, huh?” 

“Yunho, I-I'm close... so close,” you whimpered, gripping his shoulders like they were your savior. But you knew nothing could save you from the climax you were reaching quickly. 

Yunho smiled down at you a bit cockily, “Have I made clear who you belong to?” 

“Yes!” you whined, thighs trembling. 

“And who do you belong to, baby?” 

If you weren’t in such a state of mind-blowing pleasure, you could have teased him on purpose and said the name of your coworker. However, now that you were so close to coming, you couldn’t ruin this. 

“You! You, Yunho!..” 

A genuine, sweet smile tugged the corners of his lips slightly upwards. By looking at his furrowed eyebrows, it was clear he was holding back as well, near to orgasm but fighting back for your sake. 

And Yunho knew your body so well, that he recognized your sounds of enjoyment and body language, so that just when you reached the peak, he closed the distance between your lips. Your cries of pure pleasure were muffled by his mouth. 

His body shook and it didn’t take long for him to go over the edge, to let out a few stifled groans. Hot cum spurted out inside you, filling you just like Yunho had promised. 

“So, you’re going to block that man’s number, right?” Yunho mumbled, his head lying down on your chest. He could hear your heart beating rapidly after the intense session but eventually calming down to steady, slow beats. 

You chuckled, caressing his hair slightly damp from the sweat, “I can’t block my coworker’s number.” 

A surprised and disappointed whine fell past your lips as Yunho got up and pulled his now softened cock out of you. He looked down at your pussy, watching with glee how his fresh cum leaked out. There was a lot of it still inside you, but it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was ever enough for him when it came to you. 

“I guess you can take another load then.” 

[justakaku]

Hi is confidentiality still ongoing?

Yes, it is!❤️I'm writing a lot of stories at the same time nowadays so I'm quite slow, but I've started writing chapter 9 of Confidentiality a couple days ago🙌

[justakaku]

Dear Daisy - Jongho x f!reader

Summary: Feelings for Jongho weren’t the only thing you developed. Falling in love meant falling ill in this case. 

Genre: fluff, angst 

Pairings: Jongho x f!reader, slight Wooyoung x f!reader 

T/W: blood, choking (not strangling), reader has the hanahaki disease, mean Jongho :( 

A/N: This was an attempt of the fic I promised when I reached 100 followers... two months ago... I was asked for fluff, but this is what the fic turned out to be. It’s quite long, so I’m not sure if anyone has the will and energy to read this, but to everyone who does and enjoys it: big thank you! 

Word count: 9 904 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was no secret that your garden was the most admired yard in the whole village. All around the year, it was a sight for sore eyes even in winter. 

The stream where spring water flowed joyfully was frozen. The ice was too weak for walking, but its beauty made up for it. Sometimes, you did have to play a lifeguard and save children from the icy stream which was luckily not too deep. A cup of hot chocolate, fresh clothes and a blanket usually made them feel a little happier before their parents could come pick them up from your house. 

You also set tallow balls and other kinds of bird food in your garden, helping the birds survive through the cold season. The yard and the roof of your cottage were covered in thick layers of snow. Despite your home being beautiful during winter too, you loved spring. 

It was the best time of the year for your gardening hobby to bloom again. The flowers you grew were famous in the village and even people from the nearby villages and towns traveled to buy your plants. 

Maybe that’s why the mysterious man had started appearing in your garden when the weather got warmer. After his every secret visit, a bunch of the flowers you had grown from the scratch and cared for had disappeared. You were no genius but you realized soon he had been stealing your flowers. It upset you not only because the beauty of your garden suffered but because selling plants was a part of your income to be able to keep living in the little cottage. 

You had to gain courage to confront the man about it; he couldn’t keep robbing the results of your hard work. But whenever you stared at him from your window, an involuntary smile tugged the corners of your lips upwards. 

He looked focused on picking the best flowers, his brows furrowed. It was almost like stealing was his job, and he took it very seriously despite being awful at staying hidden. 

His habit of coming there would have been infuriating, but you couldn’t be that mad at him when he started tying the flowers together into bouquets. They started as clumsy and frankly quite ugly. 

By the 5th time he was rummaging through your garden, you had to do something. Not just because of the thievery but because he intrigued you. His actions were baffling, and you had never seen him before in the village. He couldn’t be from farther away; it would be stupid to travel from another town many times a week for flower bouquets. 

You slipped your shoes on and tiptoed to the garden, the soft, fresh-green grass silencing your steps. It was crucial to catch the man off guard, so he wouldn’t have enough time to run away. You felt like you had to talk to him, to know his reasons for sneaking and stealing. 

The man was crouched in front of your dear tulips, plucking them up from the soil. It hurt to watch but you couldn’t focus on that in that moment. 

You crept behind him, not too close. One deep breath in to prepare yourself and you spoke. 

“You could just buy those flowers like a normal person.” 

Against your expectations, the man in front of you didn’t seemingly get even startled. His head turned around slowly to look at you. 

Only then you noticed how handsome he was. His round cheeks looked squishable and black hair soft and smooth to touch. However, he definitely wouldn’t have appreciated squishes and pats on the head; he was clearly pissed. 

It was almost ridiculous how he looked like the angry one despite not being the victim of the theft happening right then. 

“It’s just a couple of them. You have hundreds of flowers, so why does it matter if I take a few for myself?” the man frowned. 

“Those few flowers are a few potential dollars stolen from my wallet,” you crossed your arms. 

As the man stood up from the ground, his stance intimidated you a little. He was still holding the red tulips. Even the color of the flowers was warning you about the man, but you couldn’t back down. 

“You’ll manage fine without a little extra money. I know your business is booming.” 

The man was thinking so selfishly and it really started to irk you. 

“This is the 5th time you’re here. You’ve stolen a bunch of flowers each time, so it makes at least 30 dollars.” 

“Then what do you want me to do? I don’t have money to pay for bouquets twice a week,” the man huffed. 

It was weird. Why would a grown man resort to stealing just because he wanted a bouquet he couldn’t even pay for? Sure, your flowers were lovely but they couldn’t be that enticing. 

“You could take wildflowers from the fields. They don’t cost you anything.” 

“No. I want yours.” 

“Then start paying for them.” 

“I told you already I don’t have money,” the man brushed his hand through his hair in frustration. 

Something about the situation was different, and you couldn’t shake off the sensation that the man wasn’t stealing just for fun; he actually needed the flowers. But you needed the money. Having no heart to kick him out of your garden and scream at him to never come back again, you made a suggestion. 

“Let’s compromise. You start working in my garden with me, and I’ll give you flowers for free.” 

Surprise flickered in his eyes but he didn’t let it show too long. Of course, his stoic image was more important than acting genuine. 

Maybe the man had a sense of justice and guilt after all, since he agreed, “Fine. I’ll come here tomorrow.” 

You smiled in satisfaction. Once again, another difficult situation handled with grace. It was concerning though, seeing how he had ripped the tulips from the soil with such force. How good would he be at gardening with his fierce grip? That would be left for you to see the next day. 

The next morning you woke up early, excited and nervous to see the man whose name you learned to be Choi Jongho. You should have been angry with him for stealing from you and even acting rude and self-righteous; but you were just too curious to get to know him to think sanely. 

Jongho was supposed to arrive in a few hours, so you had plenty of time to prepare a little surprise for him. After all, it was best to make a good first impression on new acquaintances – maybe you’d make a friend out of him as well. 

You pushed the oven tray in, and it took about 20 minutes for the scent of homemade bread fill the small kitchen. Some margarine, ham, and organic cheese would complement the bread well, and hopefully Jongho would like it. 

After setting the table and making delicious breakfast, you sat down on the porch and waited patiently. It was going to be a hot day, and you had been well prepared for it. Hats were essential for sunny days in the garden. 

Still, there Jongho came, marching to your house with his head covered only in hair – his hair color wasn’t of any help either in protecting him from the Sun. You were positive you had told him to dress accordingly to the weather, but after knowing him for a day you had a feeling that the man was as stubborn as a mule. 

“I see you forgot to wear a hat,” you chuckled. 

Jongho who had just arrived on the porch huffed, “I don’t need one.” 

You took a look at the rest of his outfit which was fortunately appropriate for the weather. His clothes seemed to be of somewhat thin material yet covered his legs and arms from the Sun. 

“Yes, you do. Come inside, I’ll give you a hat and some breakfast.” 

You got up from your rattan chair and gestured for Jongho to follow you only for him to shake his head. 

“I’m here to work, not to have a tea party with you.” 

It was no lie that you felt hurt by his words, brief pain deep inside your chest. Having had woken up a couple hours earlier to bake him bread had been futile, since Jongho rejected your offer with no regrets. 

“Have it your way,” you mumbled and led him to the garden. 

Jongho was just as hopeless at gardening as you feared he would be. He couldn’t have had an easier task – watering flowers – but he managed to mess it up by watering the flower itself, not the soil it grew on. 

Giving the lawn mower to him would have been too risky, since he could have driven it over your toes accidentally or on purpose, so his next task was to pull the weeds. At least his strength came in good use when he ripped the weeds and their roots from the ground forcefully. 

But it was impossible not to notice how he had started feeling ill. Despite his attempts at pretending to be a tough guy, he wobbled around dizzily and had to take short, unexpected breaks. It was obvious the lack of a hat combined with the burning sun had caused his body to overheat. 

“Jongho, do you want to come inside and have water?” you crouched down onto his level as he was sitting on the grass, holding his head and obviously feeling sick. 

“No. I need to work.” 

That damn man was like a stubborn child. 

“You can have the flowers even if you don’t work as much. I would just rather not have you faint here in my garden.” 

“Fine...” 

Pleasantly surprised by his acceptance, you walked inside your cottage with Jongho who had insisted he wouldn’t need your help to get up. 

The moment he felt the cool temperature the air conditioner provided in the house, he relaxed visibly and sighed. He was holding his hand still on his forehead, probably suffering from headache, testing his temperature or both. 

Jongho sat down on your couch at your gesture, and you brought him a big glass of water. Some of the water splashed on his lap as he took it from you with shaky hands, but it didn’t seemingly bother him. 

You watched as he emptied the glass down his throat. Jongho was probably the type to say a glass was half empty when you thought it was half full. He hadn’t even thanked you for the water. 

The two of you stayed silent for a moment before he presented a question with a light rasp in his voice. 

“Is the breakfast offer still good?” 

You thought back to the bread that had been left on the dining table, waiting impatiently for Jongho and you to enjoy it. You almost wanted to refuse his request and eat the bread slowly bite by bite in front of him just out of spite. But seeing his unwell expression tugged at your tender heartstrings. 

Soon, Jongho was munching on a slice of the bread, avoiding eye contact. His cheeks puffed out cutely while he had his mouth full of food, but you would never tell him how adorable he looked. 

“Which store did you buy this bread from? It’s pretty tasty.” 

You smiled triumphantly, your chest swelling with pride at Jongho’s indirect compliment, “I baked it myself.” 

Finally, Jongho turned his brown eyes on you. The color reminded you of soil in all the best ways. Though he definitely wouldn’t have appreciated that compliment. 

“You baked it yourself? I guess you’re a beginner still.” 

You frowned, “If you can’t appreciate my hospitability, you can go home. And no, I’m not a beginner. I’ve cooked and baked quite a lot.” 

The tension was thick as silence fell between you two once again, but you almost wanted to laugh at the awkwardness of the whole situation. Almost. 

Surprisingly, Jongho’s indifferent expression turned embarrassed, and he muttered an apology, “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just on a bad mood because of the heat.” 

It was the first time you saw him acting vulnerable – if you could even call apologizing that. Still, it made you giddy to see that he let go of his pride for a small moment. 

“I understand,” you said, voice soft, “You can lie on the couch until you feel better again.” 

“Thanks,” Jongho nodded and lied down carefully, grunting because of the headache. 

Quite soon, he was asleep, in the most vulnerable state a human could be. You knew it was because he was feeling ill, but you liked to think he trusted you – which was most likely completely delusional. 

You brought a wet rag on his forehead in hopes of it helping to bring his body temperature down. Jongho flinched a little in his sleep at the feeling but made no sign of waking up. 

After a half an hour his eyes opened, looking around for a second as if to wonder how he ended up on the couch of a woman he barely knew. That woman had cared for him, but he still threw the rag on the floor ungratefully. 

“Wow. How nice of you,” you huffed. 

“You could have told me you’d bring some old, dirty rag on my forehead,” Jongho wasted no time in answering. 

“It’s dirty only because it was on your body.” 

“Explain what you mean by that,” a raised brow from Jongho told that you had irritated him, but you were not going to back down. 

“You’re much nicer when you’re asleep,” you sighed and grabbed the rag from the floor. 

Jongho was back to his grumpy self now that he was awake and feeling better. Secretly you almost hoped he would feel ill most of the time so that he’d treat you with respect. 

“Give me the flowers, and I’ll leave.” 

The two of you went back to the garden which was much cooler now that afternoon had turned into evening. You admired the hues of violet, red, and yellow the sunset had painted the sky with. 

“I want those,” Jongho pointed at a flowerbed of light pink peonies. 

You immediately had to reject his request which was honestly more like a demand. 

“You can’t have those.” 

“Why not?” he frowned. 

It would have been nice of you to open up, to tell the reason why those flowers were important for you. But had Jongho been nice to you? No. You did not owe him an explanation. 

“Take anything else in the garden. I don’t sell or give those peonies.” 

As you watched Jongho walk into the distance with a few daffodils, an exhausted sigh left your lips. He was a lot to handle for sure. 

The next days weren’t easy either, full of bickering and Jongho messing something up in your garden. More than once, while plucking bad, dried leaves of the plants he ripped the whole flower from the soil. Every time he was picking cherry tomatoes, he dropped them on the ground and “accidentally”, as he claimed, stepped on them.  

You gave him simple tasks but he managed to cause more harm than good. His incredible strength would have been useful with carrying rocks and other heavy things, but you feared he’d drop them somewhere it would cause great damage. 

But you couldn’t help but admire Jongho’s work ethic, the way he seemed to do his best to earn the flowers. It was hard to be mad at him when he looked so disappointed in himself whenever he ruined something. 

Nevertheless, there was no reason to have him work for you when it just meant more work for you with fixing his mistakes. You also felt like he didn’t enjoy spending time around you at all; the time had come to fire him. 

“Jongho. I’ve been thinking of something,” you said softly, interrupting Jongho’s work. 

He glanced at you, “Uh-huh?” 

You inhaled and exhaled, ready to tell him the harsh reality, “I can’t have you working for me anymore.” 

Jongho looked as devastated as the flowers that had wilted due to him overwatering them in the span of many days. 

“I... I understand. I haven’t been much help here,” he sighed, “And I’m not very good company.” 

You couldn’t deny the truth of neither statements so you just nodded. 

“That’s right. You’ll have flowers as a thanks from today’s work, but from now on you have to get your flowers from somewhere else. Preferably not by stealing from someone else’s garden.” 

Jongho let out a sad chuckle. It was a relief that he understood your reasoning and didn’t fight you back on this. 

You felt pity for him and guilt, but sometimes one had to think of their own good. There was no mind in letting him ruin both your garden as well as your day. 

After you had fired him a couple days ago, you felt unpleasant emotions you hadn’t expected to experience. Despite all the bickering and tension between you, a feeling of loneliness bothered you. 

You had friends, it wasn’t a lack of friends that gnawed at you, but you were often alone in your garden. It was a fresh change from the usual routine to have someone work in there with you. Although Jongho and you hadn’t gotten along very well, you missed him – probably just because you needed some company in general. 

A basket in your hand, you strolled around the village’s market. Although it was quite busy in there, you didn’t get a sense of claustrophobia. The townspeople had respect for other people’s personal space – that didn’t mean they had respect for other people’s personal business though. Even the younger ones in the village had received the gracious gift of gossiping from the elders. 

Then, a conversation of two women caught your attention. 

“Have you seen that new man in the town?” an old lady with a hideous hat whispered louder than probably intended. 

“Sadly, I haven’t.” a slightly younger woman shook her head. 

“I can’t say I’m surprised. He has been spending time at home awfully lot. Seldom steps out of his property, absolutely never greets me when I wave at him from my yard.” 

You had to hold back a chuckle at the hat-lady's huffy tone. 

“Is he handsome?” the younger woman asked. 

“Dear God, very much so. But although you’re younger than me, it doesn’t mean he’s in your age range. I’d say he hasn’t reached even 30 years yet.” 

“I think I’ll try my luck nonetheless.” 

“Oh, Agatha. Have some decency,” the hat-lady scolded the other woman playfully. 

You were not one to gossip around with the other villagers, but that didn’t mean you were left completely in the dark. Based on the ladies’ words, it was undeniable that the man was Jongho. Honestly, it made you feel a little proud that he, who apparently rarely left home, had gone out of his way just to steal flowers from you. 

You looked around the stalls selling objects ranging from vegetables to vehicles like bicycles. Nothing extraordinary seemed to demand your attention, until a certain man appeared in front of you. 

“Hello, Wooyoung,” you smiled. 

“Well, hello there. You’re looking as dazzling as ever,” Wooyoung glanced at your looks; the way your long dress, once approved by the elders, had stains in the hem. Most of your dresses looked like that, given that you spent your days crouching on the ground and hands deep in the soil.  

“I will throw one of these eggs at you if you don’t stop with your sarcastic compliments,” you grabbed a freshly-bought egg from your basket to threaten Wooyoung. 

He didn’t seem to worry for his life and just smiled in amusement, “It wasn’t wholly sarcastic. Despite using those old, filthy rags as clothes, you’re as cute as a button.” 

“You really know how to compliment a woman,” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t resist a small smile. 

Wooyoung was the type to gossip around every time a new juicy piece of information was uncovered. You two were friends, and he was the reason you were able to keep up with the current rumors. He would have surely had something new and interesting to tell you again, and you were waiting impatiently to hear it. 

“I’ve seen the new man head for your cottage more than once... What’s up?” 

Jongho was definitely the talk of the town even though he had moved there a month ago already. You didn’t care if people were interested in him, but now that you had been dragged into the situation, you had to protect your privacy before the snooping villagers would start to spy on you. 

“He just bought some flowers,” you said. 

“With his body?” Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows, and you had to refrain from smashing one of the eggs into his head. 

“Not exactly. He helped me around in the garden. You could be of help sometime too.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

“A warm hug from a friend.” 

Wooyoung groaned in annoyance, “Not even a little kiss for your good ol’ pal Wooyoung?” 

After rejecting his attempts at charming you, which had almost become a routine, you made your way home. The basket in your hand was quite heavy, full of food ingredients for the next few days. Fortunately, it didn’t take you long to see the gate to your garden. 

What you didn’t expect was seeing Jongho standing on your porch, holding flowers in his hand. Had he been stealing from you again? 

You tried your best not to look angry, but the way you stomped to Jongho was a clear sign you did not appreciate him stealing your flowers. 

Your frustrated gaze didn’t scare him, not one bit. Although you were glaring daggers at him, he stood there proudly with the flowers. 

“Jongho. Why have you been stealing from my garden again?” 

The said man pushed the flower bouquet for you to take it. 

“They are not from your garden. They are wildflowers.” 

As you took a closer look at the flowers, you noticed that they were from the fields and ditches indeed, since you didn’t have those plants in your garden. It was fair game to pick them up. To be exact, it was a bouquet of classic white daisies. Although the flowers weren’t exceptionally beautiful, Jongho’s actions were. 

“Why did you bring this to me?” you asked as you received the bouquet. 

“I want to continue working here,” Jongho stated, “And it’s an apology as well for that one time I destroyed the roses.” 

You grimaced as you recalled the moment of him losing control of the lawn mower and driving it over your dear roses. 

“Apology accepted... I think.” 

A couple daisies would not replace the roses, but you appreciated Jongho’s kind gesture. 

“So, I’ll be here tomorrow morning,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“Hold your horses. I didn’t say you could work here again.” 

At your words, Jongho’s often so indifferent eyes turned disappointed and he genuinely looked upset. You didn’t enjoy seeing him that way but what could you do? Let him step on a wandering hedgehog on your yard? Or slaughter the fishes in your pond by pouring chlorine in there? 

Maybe you could give him an easier task. But was it possible when he didn’t even know how to water the flowers? 

“Fine. I’ll hire you. But you’ll do everything under my surveillance, until I deem your skills decent enough.” 

And to your surprise, Jongho gave you a small, relieved smile. The corners of his lips barely rose but it was more than enough to make your heart flutter. Hopefully you had finally managed to warm his icy core. 

“Thanks. I’ll try my best not to let you down again.” 

During the next week Jongho came to your garden almost every day, ready to work hard to actually earn the flowers. Even stealing them had felt better than getting them from you out of pity. 

You had set the flowers you received from him into a vase near the window. To Jongho it may have felt like they were observing him, reminding that he had better do great job now. 

“Good. Now water them near the soil instead of the flower part,” you taught Jongho how to water plants without absolutely obliterating them. 

He started pouring water like a tsunami had hit, the water coming out of the can with great pressure onto the poor flower. 

“No!” you exclaimed. 

Without thinking anything else than saving your plants, you took hold of the can to stop the downpour, your hands on top of Jongho’s. 

Although you hadn’t paid attention to it in the moment, you noticed only when he looked at you weirdly. 

“Sorry,” you muttered and instantly snatched your hands away, losing contact to Jongho’s warm ones. 

For a moment, he looked almost offended, like you had insulted him by touching him. He acted like he didn’t have dirty hands too. 

Then, a soft and amused chuckle slipped past his lips. It was like music to your ears; you couldn’t hear any malice or mockery in his voice. 

Neither of you addressed the situation as the two of you just continued watering the flowers. Despite your desperate attempts at acting like nothing had happened, the atmosphere had changed – not to worse surprisingly. 

And without noticing, you had gradually taken a liking to Jongho. Maybe even more than was good for you. He wasn’t the type you usually fell for; he was grumpy, borderline rude, and had stolen your flowers. But you could notice his stoic facade cracking from time to time, glimpses of goodness and lovability shining through. 

Whenever he messed up, he looked sincerely apologetic, beating himself up for destroying something up in your garden once again. Maybe it was because he feared he’d get fired again, or maybe he actually cared about doing good work. 

You also couldn’t help but admire the way he got more skillful with time. With some tasks he didn’t even need your guidance anymore. There was no way you’d trust him with the lawn mower yet after the rose disaster, but you felt proud, looking at Jongho get satisfied from finally succeeding in a task – no matter how simple it was. 

His occasional smiles and jokes made your chest ache. Someone would have told you it was just the feeling of being in love, but your doctor had something else to tell you. You hadn’t just developed feelings for Jongho; you had developed a disease as well. 

The chest pains and coughing that had begun to occur more often hadn’t concerned you. Only when light pink flower petals started coming out when you coughed, you contacted a doctor. 

“What is ‘hanahaki disease’?” you had asked, confused by the doctor’s diagnosis. 

The doctor had clasped her hands together, looking at you with a sympathetic, sad smile. 

“Your symptoms of chest pain and coughing up flower petals are part of it. The disease develops from unrequited, one-sided love and takes place in your lungs, growing as flowers,” she had explained, “Unfortunately, in your case it has spread to your heart as well.” 

“Will I... die?” 

“Possibly. Your only chances to live are if the person of your affections confesses that they feel the same way. It’s possible to also have a surgery but that will result in losing your feelings for them and even memories of them. However, if the disease progresses into its final stage or the one you love rejects you, you will choke on the flowers and blood.” 

“How is this disease even possible?” 

Sitting in a car, you gazed outside. Wooyoung had come to pick you up from the hospital, which was in a town nearby, still too far to walk to. You wondered why couldn’t you love Wooyoung, the man who cared for you already, who had spent almost a third of his life trying to win your affections. 

Still, you couldn’t erase your feelings for Jongho. A part of you didn’t even want to, although it would cost you your life. Just to love him for a short time with your whole heart until it stopped beating sounded better than living for long in loneliness, missing out on what could have been. To love and never be loved back is painful both mentally and physically even for people who aren’t sick, but for some people it’s harder to never be able to know what love is. What it feels like to receive a smile from your love, no matter how slight it is. What it’s like to exchange a few words even if they were just greetings, passing by. 

What it’s like to cry and scream into a pillow for hours, be the reason big or small. 

What it’s like to do anything to make them happy. 

What it feels like to die for them. 

You had it all now, the love you had craved for so long, thinking you were just unable to love. There was no way you would get the surgery if it meant losing everything you had experienced with and towards Jongho. 

It was foolish really, the two of you didn’t even know each other that well yet. Most likely, almost definitely, he wouldn’t even reciprocate your feelings, and that’d be the end. 

You were deep in your thoughts when suddenly Wooyoung’s voice brought you back to Earth. 

“What did the doctor say?” He glanced at you quickly, focused on driving. Although he rarely showed his gentler side, the quick glance was enough to tell he was worried for you. 

“She diagnosed me with hanahaki disease.” 

Wooyoung fell silent for a few seconds. You expected for him to ask next what the disease was, but he managed to surprise you. 

“Is it because of Jongho?..” 

Only thing you could do is nod and let out a heavy sigh. The trees passed by as Wooyoung kept driving in the mostly empty road, getting closer to the village already. 

“Have you considered the surgery?” he asked quietly. 

This time you shook your head and answered, “I don’t want to. Now that I’ve finally fallen in love, I want to experience it without running away from it like I usually do, being the coward I am.” 

Wooyoung gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, getting agitated by his worry for you. Clearly, he didn’t like the idea of losing you because Jongho didn’t possibly love you back. 

“It’s not cowardice. You can’t give up on your life because of Jongho.” 

“The surgery costs anyways. I don’t have enough money for that.” 

The next day, you had invited Jongho to meet you at the market. It was risky since you had no idea how he’d react to your suggestion you’d make when meeting him. 

You spotted him standing in front of a flower shop, looking through the window in concentration. Lots of beautiful flowers had been set there to attract customers. 

Quickly, you skittered over to him and smiled when he turned his head towards you. In response, you only got a nod. The mission of making Jongho fall in love with you and saving your life felt impossible when one moment he was receiving of your kindness, and the other he ignored you. 

“The flowers here are way uglier than yours,” Jongho blurted out to you. 

The shop owner, standing next to the flower shop’s door and smoking, having overheard Jongho’s words, gave him a harsh glare. He threw away his cigarette and stomped back inside, slamming the door shut. 

“Also, how does he think his shop is going to attract any customers when he is smoking next to the door?” Jongho wondered. 

You giggled. No matter how much you wanted to take the shop owner’s feelings into consideration, you couldn’t help but agree. 

“He’s quite a strange person anyways. Always comes to my garden, disguised as an old woman so he could buy my flowers without losing face,” you revealed, getting a snort from Jongho in response. 

Finally, he turned around properly to talk to you. When his brown eyes met yours, the familiar butterflies fluttered in your stomach – or maybe it was the flower petals in your lungs. Either way, you didn’t care as long as you were close to Jongho. 

“So, why did you want to meet me here?” Jongho inquired. 

You fiddled with your fingers, “I was thinking you and I could spend some time at a cafe. Take whatever you want, I’ll pay.” 

Jongho raised a brow. For a moment you thought he was going to reject your offer immediately. 

“Why?” 

“It’s a ‘thank you’ for working hard in my garden.” 

“The flowers are enough already,” he answered with no emotion. 

Your shoulders slumped. Jongho knew just how to break your heart. The hope that had been awaken when he agreed to come to the market was crushed now that he rejected your advances once again. 

“But I guess I’m quite thirsty.” 

It was his quite indirect way of finally agreeing, so soon the two of you were sitting on the terrace of a cafe that was as popular as could be in a village. 

People were walking by, the gravel under their shoes rustling nicely. It was a beautiful day, all of the migratory birds having returned from the South, and their chirping and singing reached your ears. Still, all your attention was directed at Jongho. 

He was sipping on an iced americano quietly. His black hair had fell slightly in front of his eyes, so you couldn’t see where he was looking. Sincerely, you hoped he was looking at you, longingly and lovingly in the best case. 

“I think you’ve done really good work in the garden,” you said. 

“Thank you. I’m trying my best since I still feel quite guilty for destroying your garden the first time I started working there,” Jongho simply nodded. 

Even though he didn’t seem that interested in the conversation, you felt warm just by sitting with him. A teasing chuckle left your lips, “I almost thought you did it on purpose. I mean, who thinks setting the weeds on fire is a good idea?” 

Jongho smiled, clearly amused by his past actions, “Oh, come on. It was just a moment of misjudgment. I thought it would get rid of the weeds for good.” 

“You’re lucky I have a soft spot for you,” you blurted out without thinking for even a second. 

Jongho raised a brow in his usual style, this time looking even more confused than before. 

“I-I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant you’re the best garden-helper I’ve had,” you hurried to fix the situation. 

Those kinds of slips could be even life-threatening to you. If Jongho found out you had fallen for him, he’d reject you. That would only mean a bloody, sorrowfully beautiful death for you. 

“I don’t believe that. You really have had worse workers than me?” Jongho leaned forward as if to check if his hearing had betrayed him. 

“Um, yeah. For sure. Once, my friend Wooyoung dug a hole under my shed, and it collapsed,” you lied rather not-so-smoothly. 

The man in front of you started laughing, his eyes looking like little crescents. It could have been of amusement, happiness, or mockery, but his laughter was the only thing that mattered to you. 

“Fine. Go ahead and lie to me,” Jongho rolled his eyes playfully, “That’s what everyone does to me anyways.” 

Your awkward conversation had turned into playful banter with just a push into the right direction, and you were elated that Jongho was receptive to your attempts at getting closer to him. Could you two be even called friends yet? Determined to make it happen, to earn a place in his heart, you weren’t about to give up. 

“So, why did you decide to move here?” you were curious to know which demon had possessed Jongho to make him move to such a small village. 

“I’m trying to make a person’s dream come true.” 

His response was vague, but based on his expression he wanted to avoid the topic. Not wanting to push further, you changed the topic. 

“Who are the flowers for? You’ve been quite adamant on getting them.” 

“For that person. Don’t ask more,” Jongho answered. 

The atmosphere turned strained, and you regretted prying onto his personal life. Clearly, he wasn’t comfortable sharing details about some things which you were confused about. You hadn’t realized those questions would be so private. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. 

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t know. But don’t ask those things again,” Jongho sighed. 

He got up from his seat, and you felt your stomach drop; had you really offended him that much? 

“Where are you going?” you looked up at Jongho with eyes looking pitiful. 

“Home. I have to take care of something,” he simply said and walked back inside the cafe, probably to fetch his jacket he had left to the rack. 

You were left alone with your own thoughts. The more you concentrated on the possibilities of Jongho hating your guts now and never wanting to see you again, the more you felt the familiar urge to cough climb up your throat. 

You couldn’t stop the violent cough fit or the petals that slipped past your lips painfully, falling to the wooden planks of the terrace. People were watching in concern, glancing at you and whispering to each other. That was the least of your worries now. Only Jongho mattered. 

Once the final petals fell, you decided it was time to leave. There was no mind in staying there, just wallowing in your own sadness. You didn’t know if coughing up flowers even was more painful than hearing Jongho’s cold, aloof voice. 

But when you walked inside the cafe to pay for his iced americano and your own drink, the barista told you a handsome gentleman had already paid for them. 

Your heart was about to swell so big that it could burst if it was poked with a needle. There was still hope. Jongho wasn’t completely out of reach, he didn’t hate you; there was no way he could, since he had paid for both of your orders. 

You didn’t want to listen to the growing voice in your head that nagged something was wrong. 

But the voice didn’t leave you alone even during the night. The nights weren’t as dark as in winter, but it didn’t make you feel better. Your soft bed swallowed you in just like your anxious thoughts did. You were nearly drowning in them. Thoughts about Jongho already having someone he loved bothered you. 

You couldn’t ignore how likely it was. After all, he had mentioned giving the flowers to someone. 

You tried so hard to sleep, to finally stop the thoughts for a moment, but they refused to leave. A headache was starting to knock on your temples. 

The thought of Jongho giving those flowers to some beautiful woman, flashing her a smile he never gave you. The thought of his warm fingers brushing against the woman’s while they exchanged words of affection. 

It made your chest ache. Lately, the pain had been getting worse day by day. To be honest, you were scared. The increasing chest pains, the bloody petals, the thoughts of Jongho loving someone while he rarely even smiled at you. There was no way to win other than by making him fall for you. 

But if he was already with another woman, you were not going to do the crime of stealing her man. That woman did not deserve to get hurt like that no matter how much you wanted Jongho. 

You had slept the night extremely badly – if two hours of keeping your eyes shut could be even called sleeping. Still, the excitement of seeing Jongho again flooded your veins with energy.  

In your energy burst, you prepared breakfast and fresh drinks for him, not even remembering the first day he had worked for you and rejected the bread you had baked just for him. It was like you never learned from your mistakes. 

Glass by glass, the self-made lemonade you had prepared disappeared into your stomach as Jongho never came. You waited for four hours. 

By the first hour, you were sure he was just late, the poor man running to your house. 

By the second hour, you thought he had slept in. He would wake up, panicked and call you to inform with his attractive morning voice that he would come soon. 

By the third hour, you considered he could be sick and couldn’t come. 

But when you had been waiting for four hours already, you had lost hope. Even thinking that Jongho had forgotten was too hopeful; surely, he just didn’t want to come. The once blue sky had been covered in black clouds, dark like your thoughts. 

Waterdrops started falling one by one, soon turning into a heavy rain. At least you didn’t have to water the plants that day. 

Unable to move for a moment, you kept staring into the distance, imagining that Jongho would run in the rain to your cottage and ask for shelter. Oh, how you wished you could just receive some basic respect and love from him. 

You gathered the plates, glasses, lemonade can and breakfast back into the basket, ready to go inside. Once again, your attempts at serving him breakfast and spending a peaceful morning with him had been destroyed. Did the universe or Jongho hate you? Despite having known him for a month already, he didn’t even give you a chance to get to know him on a deeper level. You weren’t asking for much; just normal conversations about your lives without feeling the need to hide something. 

Then again, you were hiding things from him as well. The hanahaki disease was progressing, getting worse every day, but you could never tell Jongho the truth. It was for your own safety – not just for the safety of your emotional well-being but your life. 

Jongho hadn’t appeared for a week. Every day you sat on the porch, waiting to see him walking to your garden. But there were no sightings of him even when you asked the other villagers about his where-abouts. 

The longer he was away, the worse your disease got. Whenever you coughed, more blood came out. It splattered on the floor and left a taste of iron in your mouth. Sometimes, the flower petals, which began to get bigger and thicker, got stuck in your throat and you had to dig them out with your hand. 

Despite all the love you had for Jongho, you began to realize you couldn’t let this go on. It could be too late soon if your hanahaki disease progressed into the final stage. The thought of never seeing Jongho again, feeling love for him, or remembering him broke your weak heart, but the thought of dying had begun to terrify you worse. 

The shorter, fun days in the garden turned into mentally and physically tiring work, lasting over 10 hours per day. Flower sales went up and people came to look at your garden every day, buying everything ranging from seedlings to jams you had made from the last year’s berry harvest. It was summer; while it was the busiest time of the year for you anyways, this time it was different. 

You tried to gather the money for the surgery. It was decided. Jongho wasn’t even around, and as the days passed, your condition got gradually worse. The chest pains lasted longer, a piercing feeling poking all around your heart. 

There was no way you could let Jongho keep working there; you needed those flowers he would choose as his payment. Money was more important to you now than it had ever been. 

You had tried to call him countless times to give him a chance of explaining. Just hearing his voice could have changed your mind about the surgery. Eventually you had to send a text message to Jongho, telling him you didn’t want him back in your garden again. He would never set a foot on your soft grass again or pick up flowers from the flower beds. 

Except that’s exactly what he was doing. 

One evening, you gazed from the window, deep in thoughts, and caught a glimpse of someone in the garden plucking up flowers snatched your attention. Immediately, you realized it couldn’t be anyone else than Jongho. 

You ran outside, not bothering to wear shoes. Your mind was racing and feelings conflicted. There he was again, in front of your eyes, at your reach. Were you excited to see him or mad at him for stealing your flowers? 

But when he turned around to look at you, you saw him properly and got your answer. You were definitely mad. 

As if stealing flowers from you again wasn’t bad already, but what he was holding in his hand was what made you see red. 

The only flowers you had told he couldn’t take had been ripped from the ground, leaving an ugly mess behind in the flower bed. He was holding your light pink peonies. The flowers would be dead in some days, just a memory of memories. 

“What have you done?!” you ran up to Jongho. 

It was impossible to determine if you were heart-broken or furious. Maybe there was only a fine line between those things anyways. 

“I can pay for them,” Jongho suggested, seeming surprisingly guilty. 

“I don’t want your shitty money! Those peonies were important to me.” 

Jongho’s confusion and guilt moved aside as he started defending himself, “Uh-huh? What importance they could even have to you?” 

You felt your blood boiling, threatening to burn your insides. The audacity Jongho had made you wonder how could you ever have fallen in love with a man so selfish and uncaring. 

“They are a remembrance for my parents, being the only flowers that are left from the time they were alive. Don’t you see how selfish you are being?” you took a step forward, glaring at Jongho with all your might. Maybe he’d die from your gaze, or maybe you’d die from heartbreak. 

His angry expression faltered for a moment, but he regained his control, “I’m not doing this for selfish reasons.” 

“You’re still being incredibly selfish towards me!” 

Jongho walked closer to you and looked straight into your eyes, “And why should I care?” 

The coughing was beginning again but you stood your ground, “I thought we were friends,” your voice broke a little in the middle of the sentence. 

“Then you thought wrong. I don’t have friends. You mean nothing to me.” 

You gasped. Jongho probably thought it was out of shock, but that was not the whole truth; you had started having trouble breathing. 

“You asked who the flowers are for?” he shook the peonies in his hand, “They are for a woman I actually care about. Who I love.” 

You had known it. Jongho was already in love with someone else and had been getting those flowers for that woman. All the signs had been there, but you had been such a fool in love that you lived in the delusion of him being able to love you back someday. 

“Hey... What’s wrong?” he asked as he started noticing your weird behavior. 

You couldn’t respond. The end had become; Jongho had rejected you. The coughs had started, but you knew it would not help. Too much blood, too much flowers. Too little time. 

You clutched at your throat desperately, but what use would it be? Your windpipes were full of the petals and would continue to be. All because you loved a man who couldn’t spare even an ounce of empathy for you. 

As you fell down on the grass on your knees, painting the ground with blood and petals, Jongho seemed to finally realize something was horribly wrong. 

You saw him calling someone, probably 911, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. Everything felt too fast, but it was better than to die slowly. The noises around you were starting to get quieter and slowly your sight blurred. You would have wished to see Jongho at least holding you during your last moments instead of talking in phone. Maybe he wasn’t even calling 911. He could have been talking to the woman he loved. 

But what had you expected? You meant nothing to him. 

It was dark for a long time. Felt like an eternity but nothing at the same time. 

When your eyes finally opened, you couldn’t even recognize what you were looking at. Your sight was blurry, could have been because you just woke up, but the tears in your eyes were the main reason. Why were you crying? 

In your mind, there was no cause for the tears. You couldn’t recall any moment that could have made you cry. There was a feeling of something missing in your chest, an absence of something you had grown used to. It was impossible to pinpoint it because it was like even your mind had a hole. 

After a moment, you could see what you were looking at: a ceiling. It wasn’t a surprise since you were lying down on a bed. With a few glances to your sides, it was clear you were in a hospital. An IV pump was connected to your hand with a tube. 

“E-Excuse me,” you murmured, not knowing if there even was anyone in the same room. 

Given the fact that it was not unusual for patients to be in the same room, you shouldn’t have gotten startled when a female voice answered behind a curtain dividing the room. 

“Do you need a nurse? Are you in pain?” 

She sounded young and kind yet weak, her hoarse voice indicating that she was in the hospital for a good reason as well. 

“Why am I here?” you asked. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t know. But you were under anesthesia most likely. You were asleep when they brought you here,” she answered. 

A heavy sigh pushed past your lips. You felt so tired both mentally and physically. The hole in your mind felt heavy, like something important had been ripped away from you, and you couldn’t remember what. 

“I hope you’re alright, and you won’t have to stay in the hospital for long. It gets quite boring here,” the woman behind the curtain continued. 

You smiled slightly although she couldn’t see it, “How long have you been here?” 

It was quiet for a moment as she pondered her answer, the only sound being the beeping of the machines around you. 

“Too long. I moved to a nearby village about two months ago, and I’ve spent most of the time in the hospital.” 

Despite her sad revelation, it surprised you how hopeful she sounded. It must have been awful to stay most of the day inside those four walls. 

“How much do you go out? It’s so beautiful outside,” you wondered, hoping that the question wasn’t too intrusive. 

She chuckled, “That’s the sad thing. It had been my long-time dream to move to the countryside to see the nature. I had been hospitalized for so long, and I was excited to finally get released. Now, my condition has worsened again.” 

You felt your heart ache for her. The world was so unfair; to give that sweet woman hope only to crush her dreams later. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

When she spoke, you could hear the smile she had on her face, “It’s okay. At least I have my brother. He brings me flowers often, so I could have a piece of the nature here with me.” 

The emptiness inside you throbbed at her words. Most likely, you just felt lonely, and you hoped Wooyoung would visit you. 

“That is so sweet of him. Does he live in the same village?” 

“He moved there with me. Honestly, I don’t deserve him,” she spoke, “He has been paying for my hospital bills for years, and I’m just a burden. I don’t even know how he affords the flowers he brings me.” 

A frown settled on your face at the woman’s words. How did she dare to call herself a burden? Every person is a burden to other people, some on purpose and some against their own will. The woman you were talking to was definitely not a burden so that she could take advantage of her brother’s kindness. 

“Your worth can’t be measured by some amount of money. You bring happiness to your brother by your presence and existence, and no money can pay for a true, caring relationship,” you reassured. 

“Thank you,” the woman spoke, sounding genuinely grateful. 

Then, the door opened and a man came in. He had black hair and was wearing clothes that didn’t reveal much skin. 

The man had a neutral face, eyes directed straight forward. But when he glanced at you quickly, his expression betrayed him. Feelings of surprise, sadness yet relief flooded over him, and he didn’t even bother hiding them again. 

With quick steps, the man approached you. The two of you just looked at each other, the other one confused while the other one had tears prickling his eyes. He held two flower bouquets tightly in his both hands, and he pushed the one with daisies towards you. 

“I came to see you.” 

“May I ask who are you?” you tilted your head. 

“I-I’m sorry...” the man bit his lip, clearly overwhelmed by his emotions. 

“That’s not a name,” you chuckled. 

The woman behind the curtain, having recognized the man’s voice, spoke up again, “His name is Jongho. He’s my brother.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement, “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard good things about you.” 

The man named Jongho did not look pleased. Devastation furrowed his eyebrows, and his lips quivered. You couldn’t understand why he had brought you daisies; you hadn’t met him or his sister before. 

“Don’t you remember me, Y/N?” 

You shook your head as an answer. Feeling quite worried for him, you wondered if you had lost your memories at some point. It would explain the hole you felt inside your mind. 

But you remembered everything else: your parents, all the years with Wooyoung, your garden. Every moment had been captured into your memory bank, but Jongho was a complete stranger in front of you. 

“I used to work for you. I-I had been stealing flowers from you but you suggested I’d start working in the garden to earn the flowers.” 

“I think I’ve lost my memories at some point. I can’t recall ever talking to you,” you mumbled apologetically. 

Tears started flowing down Jongho’s cheeks, and it looked like he wasn’t even trying to hold them back, “You taught me how to water flowers.” 

You couldn’t resist a surprised chuckle, “You didn’t know how to do that before?” 

“I also told you that you mean nothing to me... Just minutes after that, I had to call the ambulance,” he clenched tighter to the bouquet as he mumbled his revelation. 

That made you silent. Maybe you had known that man after all, but you still couldn’t feel anything for him. No hard feelings, no love. 

“Then I guess it’s fair now then. I mean nothing to you and you mean nothing to me.” 

Your honest words hurt Jongho visibly, but he forced an understanding expression on his face. 

He set the daisies on the nightstand next to your back-breaking hospital bed. Just looking at him made the emptiness grow. You didn’t doubt his words about the two of you knowing each other, but despite feeling bad for him, you sensed it would not be wise to reconnect with him. 

Jongho disappeared behind the curtain, obviously going to his sister. Their whispers were not audible enough for you to hear what they were talking about, but it was clear his sister was frustrated. 

You listened to them talk while trying to recollect memories of Jongho, of the times you supposedly knew him. But nothing came to mind. The more you tried to reach for the memories, the more it felt like the emptiness grew. 

Later on, Wooyoung had come to visit you. His revelation made you finally understand why you had lost all of the memories regarding Jongho. 

“You almost died, Y/N. Because of him,” Wooyoung held your hand a little too tight. It was clear he was trying to hide the turmoil deep inside of him, the fear of almost having lost you, “The doctors managed to save you with an emergency surgery.” 

Although he had told you that you had been in love with Jongho, which had caused you to develop hanahaki, you couldn’t remember anything or hold any fond feelings nor hatred towards him. Jongho’s rejection had almost taken your life, so you understood now the hope and sadness his eyes had shown. He must have been feeling guilt. 

Being in the hospital was not cheap but the cost of the surgery terrified you even more. Sure, you had gained money from selling the flowers, but it was not enough. You had to consider selling your cottage, to leave the house you had grown up in and the garden you had played in with Wooyoung since the age of five. 

One morning there was an envelope slipped in through your mail slot. 

Dear Y/N, 

This is the least I can do for you, but the most I can do in this situation. 

With best regards, Jongho. 

In addition to the letter, there were about 20 bills of $100 inside the envelope. It was the most Jongho could do to help you in paying for the surgery, given the fact that he was short of money due to his sister’s illness. It wasn’t nearly enough to cover all expenses, but you felt gratitude towards him. He wouldn’t have had to pay for anything; after all, he hadn’t known about you having the hanahaki disease. 

Eventually, the cottage was put on sale. You grimaced at the thought of someone buying it, making it their own, and possibly ruining the garden full of the memories of your childhood. It was the end of summer when you closed the front door of your home for the last time. 

Some days you blamed Jongho for ruining your life in just a few months, but he hadn’t brought only destruction into your life; you and Wooyoung had grown closer to each other because of him. There was no need to even ask for Wooyoung to let you stay at his place before you’d find your new home. The moment he found out you were selling your house, he suggested you to move in – said he wouldn’t mind if you stayed your whole life there in his care. You had answered, laughing, “You can’t even take care of a houseplant. How are you going to take care of me?” 

After that he had bought over 50 houseplants to prove your point wrong. Only one survived his tough love, but it was enough. After all, there was only one of you as well. You wouldn’t have wanted to compete for his attention with some plants anyways. 

[justakaku]

Loved the fanfic I’m wondering how many parts will there be and when are you thinking of posting chapter 9

I'm not sure how many chapters there will be🫢🫢I haven't planned completely everything in the story, more like some major things, so the amount of chapters depends on what kind of subplots I come up with🫡🫡I'm writing a oneshot (not a part of Confidentiality) atm so I think I'll start writing chapter 9 when I'm close to finishing the other story❤️