#invasion of privacy

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Comic by AndrewWD on bluesky

[youabandonedthem]

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Invasion of Privacy | Ep. 8 -If the Shoe fits

ᑉ³SYNOPSIS; In the dazzling world of fame, you have it all—a beautiful home, devoted fans, and Chan, the love of your life. But when cryptic messages start arriving, the line between adoration and obsession blurs. With each note, you feel increasingly unsafe. Now, you're on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth before it's too late.

ᑉ³PAIRING; Chan x Idol! reader. Ft. Stray Kids

ᑉ³GENRE; Smau, FF , Angst, Hurt, Comfort, mystery

ᑉ³GENERAL WARNINGS ;Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, mentions of blood, Home invasion, cursing, Kissing, Pain, death, Implied female reader, Certain episodes may be Suggestive MDNI ᑉ³EPISODE WARNINGS : Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, Home invasion, cursing, Home invasion

EPISODE WORD COUNT; 7.9k Words

AUTHOR'S NOTE ; Thank you for joining me on this journey.<3 Your support and enthusiasm mean the world to me. I hope you've enjoyed the series as much as I've enjoyed creating it. I hope this is a resolution you'll enjoy... Happy season finale!!

If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Whether it's through comments, reblogs, or sending an ask, your feedback means the world to me. Remember, none of this is real. It is a story. It is fiction. You can choose not to read it if it will make you uncomfortable.

Master Post | Teaser | Suspect Cards

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, peeking through the blinds. You blinked awake, feeling Chan's steady breathing beside you. The events of the previous night rushed back, and your mind immediately began to churn with thoughts of the gift, the unsettling letters, and Hyunjin.

You turned to see Chan still asleep, his face relaxed in peaceful slumber. You carefully slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake him just yet, making your way to the bathroom to freshen up.

After getting dressed, you quietly made your way to the living room. You glanced at the clock—it was early, but you needed to reach out to Hyunjin and Minho and get some answers.

You picked up your phone and sent a quick text to both of them, separately.

You quickly grabbed your things, ensuring you had the letters you took from Hyunjin's room and the box Minho had left last night.

You left a note for Chan, letting him know you’d be back soon and that you were heading out for a moment.

The early morning air was cool and crisp as you stepped outside. You made your way to the dorms, your mind racing with thoughts and questions.

When you arrived, you found Hyunjin and Minho waiting outside, each looking concerned. They seemed surprised to see each other.

“What are you doing here?” Minho asked, glancing at Hyunjin.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Hyunjin replied, frowning.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, looking at Minho with mock suspicion. "First you try to take over my dorm. Now your following me everywhere, huh?"

Minho chuckled, shaking his head. "Please, I have better things to do than follow you around."

Hyunjin crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "Could've fooled me. What's next? You going to start stealing my clothes?"

Minho sighed. "I don't have time for this. Can you leave? I have a private meeting with Y/N."

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “No, I’m meeting with Y/N.”

You stepped between them before the tension could escalate. “Actually, I’m meeting with both of you.” They both looked at you, their expressions shifting from surprise to curiosity. “We need to talk about a few things and its important your both there."

Hyunjin and Minho exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. "Alright," Minho said, gesturing towards the entrance. "Let's go inside and talk."

Once inside, you were led into the living room, and Minho and Hyunjin sat next to each other, while you sat across from them.

You placed the box next to you, the letters hidden inside. You didn't know where else to start other than what you found in Hyunjin's room.

Hyunjin hesitated, glancing at you with a mixture of surprise and hurt. "You went through my things?" His voice was low, tinged with disappointment.

You swallowed, realizing your mistake. "I... I had to. After everything that's been happening, I needed to understand what was going on."

"You... read the letters, didn't you?"

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt for invading his privacy. "I did... I'm sorry, Hyunjin. I had to understand what was going on."

Minho glanced between you and Hyunjin, sensing the need to clear things up. "What letters are you talking about?"

Hyunjin's expression was a mix of surprise and embarrassment, his cheeks faintly flushed as he glanced at Minho.

You took a deep breath, then reached into the box, retrieving the letters carefully. You handed them to Minho, who took them with a furrowed brow, his eyes scanning the elegant handwriting on the pages.

Hyunjin covered his face briefly with his hand, his embarrassment evident. "I can't believe you found those," he murmured, voice muffled against his palm.

Minho glanced up from the letters, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern as he realized the implications. "Hyunjin..."

You nodded quietly, understanding the weight of the moment. "I found them while trying to piece together everything that's been happening."

Hyunjin shifted uncomfortably under the collective gaze of everyone present.

"Hyunjin… youve been… helping Stay?"

Hyunjin glanced up, meeting your eyes with a mix of confusion and frustration. His earlier embarrassment now gave way to a defensive stance, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. "Helping STAY? No, I haven't been helping them," he replied firmly. "I've been trying to figure out who they are just as much as you."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed deeply, skepticism evident in his expression. He held the letters out towards Hyunjin. "Then how do you explain these letters, Hyunjin? They talk about your feelings for Y/N... your actions... What do you know? Who is STAY?!"

Hyunjin's eyes darted to the letters, his hands visibly trembling as he hesitated to take them out of Minho's hands. "I... I don't know," he stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of Minho's accusation. "I... I swear, I don't know who 'STAY' is. I've never met them," he insisted.

"What did you do?" you asked, your voice edged with concern.

Hyunjin remained quiet, his gaze fixed on the floor, clearly struggling to find the right words.

"You better start talking," Minho threatened, his tone sharp and demanding. He moved closer to Hyunjin, his frustration palpable.

Hyunjin swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "I never wanted you to find out like this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know who STAY was. They... they found out about my feelings...and my drawings. They threatened to expose everything if I didn't do what they said. They would send me messages, telling me to put letters in specific places or go to certain locations.... I never knew what they were planning, but they made it clear they could ruin everything if I didn't cooperate."

Minho's frustration turned into disbelief mixed with anger. "So, you let yourself be blackmailed? You didn't think to come to me? Or any of us?!"

Hyunjin shook his head, his shoulders tense with guilt. "I was scared, Minho. I didn't want to drag you into this mess. I thought I could handle it on my own."

Minho paced back and forth, running a hand through his hair. "Handling it on your own nearly got all of us into deeper trouble," he muttered, more to himself than to Hyunjin.

You stood beside Minho, feeling torn between anger at the situation and sympathy for Hyunjin's predicament. "Hyunjin, why didn't you tell me?" you asked softly, trying to understand.

Hyunjin looked up at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I didn't want to lose your trust," he admitted. "I didn't want you to see me like this, or for us to lose our friendship."

Minho exhaled sharply, his features softening slightly as he glanced at you. "We need to figure out who STAY is," he said firmly, refocusing on the task at hand. "We can't let them continue to manipulate us."

"We?" You turned and looked at him. "We need to figure out who STAY is?"

Minho looked at you with confusion. "Yes, we. Why wouldn't I help you?"

"Oh yeah?" you replied in disbelief. "I think you've done more than enough helping."

"What are you talking about, Y/N?"

You pulled out your phone, navigating to the security footage from the previous night. "Last night, someone was at my door. I have it on camera."

As the video played, it showed a figure approaching your doorstep. The dim light revealed enough to identify Minho's distinct features.

Minho's eyes widened as he watched himself on the screen, caught in the act. He ran a hand through his hair, his face flushing with embarrassment and guilt. "I... I was there," he admitted quietly, avoiding your gaze.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "And seconds after you left, I received a text from STAY about the gift," you continued, showing him the message on your phone. "How do you explain that?"

"The box appeared on my bed with your name on it. I thought you had forgotten it there because you stayed at the dorm the night Seungmin went to the hospital. Maybe you had slept in my bed? I don't know… so I brought it over. I didn't open it or know anything about it."

You frowned, processing his explanation. It made sense, but .... did it?

"So you weren't involved with STAY at all?" you asked, wanting to clarify.

Minho shook his head vehemently. "No, I swear," he replied earnestly. "I had no idea about STAY or the letters. I just wanted to return the box because I thought it was a mix-up."

Hyunjin, who had been listening intently, spoke up cautiously. "Wait, so you didn't know about the text from STAY either?"

Minho looked genuinely surprised. "No," he said, "I had no idea. I just thought I was helping out."

"You better not be lying to me. So help me God...." you snap at him.

Minho's expression turned solemn as he met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and determination. "I swear, I'm not lying," he insisted. "I didn't know anything about it. I was just trying to do what I thought was right."

You studied him for a moment, searching his eyes for any sign of deception. After a tense pause, you nodded slowly. "Alright," you said firmly, though the uncertainty still lingered. "Let's focus on finding out who STAY is. We need to put an end to this."

Hyunjin nodded in agreement, his earlier defensiveness now replaced with a shared sentiment. "We'll need to be careful," he cautioned, glancing between you and Minho. "STAY seems to know a lot about us."

"If we're going to work together, you have to be honest. What else do you two know? You can't hide anything from me. Who else received letters?"

Minho and Hyunjin exchanged a glance, silently communicating their shared concern. Minho spoke up first, his voice measured. "I... don't know who else received letters," he admitted, his brows furrowing with worry. "I didn't even know about these until now."

Suddenly the attention was suddenly diverted by the arrival of Felix.

"Good Morning everyone!" he said walking by. Then he hesitated, sensing the seriousness in the air. "Why's everyone so serious? Am I interrupting something?" Felix asked, looking around with curiosity.

"You're not interrupting," you said firmly, motioning for Felix to sit down. "Come. Lets chat."

Felix took a seat, his brow furrowing slightly at the atmosphere. "Okay... What's going on?"

"Felix, do you remember the day we went to the warehouse?" you say to him.

"Yes.. why?" he replied cautiously.

"Why did you show up there?" you said. Felix shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darting around the room as he avoided direct eye contact. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly.

"Was there a letter telling you to go there?" you continued.

His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, twisting the fabric nervously. Felix's usual easygoing demeanor was replaced with a tense, uneasy energy. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other as if he wanted to get up and leave but was forcing himself to stay put.

"No... no letter," he said, his voice wavering.

You relaxed slightly, feeling a bit of relief. Maybe Felix was telling the truth. Maybe you could trust him and all his actions.

"I....I-I got a text," Felix added, his voice barely above a whisper.

Just kidding! He's a liar just like the others.

"OH?? SO FOR YOU THEY TOOK THE MODERN ROUTE," Hyunjin said with a bitter laugh. "I had to keep letters like we were fucking pen pals."

"You got a text?!" you exclaimed, your shock evident in your tone.

Felix nodded reluctantly, his gaze darting between you, Minho, and Hyunjin. "It just said to go to Y/N's house, that there was something she wanted to tell me."

You blinked, surprised by Felix's revelation. The implications sank in as you exchanged looks with Minho and Hyunjin, all equally puzzled by this new development.

"To my house?" you repeated, trying to process it.

"Yeah. That's when I saw all of you dressed in black heading out."

"Did you get any more texts after that?" you asked.

"No, I didn't. I didn't know anything else. That's when we went to the warehouse and we saw all of Hyunjin's things there. Which, by the way, why is he here if it's clearly him?" Felix said, his voice now tinged with suspicion.

"Excuse me?" Hyunjin said, his eyes narrowing. "Me? You're saying this is my fault?"

"Your camera was at the crime scene, your drawings were at the crime scene… two plus two definitely equals four," Felix shot back, his voice rising.

Hyunjin's frustration boiled over at Felix's accusation. His hands clenched into fists, ready to confront Felix, but Minho swiftly stepped in, holding Hyunjin back.

"Hey, calm down," Minho said firmly, his voice cutting through the rising tension.

"Felix, think about it," Minho continued, keeping a firm grip on Hyunjin's shoulder. "If Hyunjin was behind this, why would he be here trying to help us figure out who STAY is? He’s been manipulated just like the rest of us."

"He could be lying." He said.

Minho shook his head. "Maybe, but Hyunjin has an alibi. Right, Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin's face went pale, and he looked down, unable to meet anyone's gaze. The room fell silent, the tension palpable.

"Hyunjin?" you prompted, your voice a mix of concern and confusion.

Hyunjin swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "I… I was at the warehouse. But it wasn't what you think. STAY told me to set the stuff up for someone to view. I didn't know all of you would show up....." he said. "I thought I had more time to leave.... Then I saw someone chasing after me, so I ran."

"You?" you said, your voice barely above a whisper yet filled with disbelief. "It was you?"

Hyunjin froze, the weight of your words hitting him hard. He met your gaze, his expression a mix of guilt and remorse, knowing what would come next.

"You're the one who hurt Seungmin?" The question hung in the air, heavy with accusation and the need for clarity.

Hyunjin swallowed hard, his jaw tight as he struggled to find the right words. "I... I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he finally admitted, his voice strained with emotion. "STAY told me to set things up, but I never intended for anyone to get hurt... God I'm sorry..."

His eyes pleaded for understanding, but the pain in your heart overshadowed any immediate forgiveness. " Please dont tell any of this to Chan." he said quietly.

You took a step back, needing to distance yourself from the situation. The room felt suffocating, filled with accusations and revelations that shattered the fragile peace you had desperately clung to.

"I can't," you managed to say, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. "I need to go."

Minho reached out, trying to stop you. "Y/N, please, we need to figure this out together. You can't just—"

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just... I can't right now," your tone final as you turned away, unable to bear the weight of their presence any longer. Your mind raced with unanswered questions and the painful realization that everything you thought you knew had been turned upside down.

Without another word, you took the box and hurried out of the dorm, the sound of their voices fading behind you, each one grappling with their own guilt and the devastating consequences of their actions. The truth had finally surfaced, but it had come at a cost none of them could have anticipated. The world outside seemed distant and surreal as you walked in the direction of your house.

You arrived home feeling utterly devastated. Every step felt heavier as you walked through the door, the familiar comfort of your home offering little solace in the face of betrayal and deceit.

Chan was in the living room, a wide smile spreading across his face as he saw you enter. "Good afteroon, Y/N!" he exclaimed cheerfully, his eyes bright with happiness. "Where did you disappear off to?"

You couldn't find the words to answer immediately. The truth threatened to spill out, but the pain was still too raw, too overwhelming to articulate.

"I just needed a breather," you replied with a fake smile. "Nothing too adventurous, I promise."

You collapsed onto the nearest couch. Chan's gaze shifted back to the box in your hands, his brow furrowing slightly. "What's in your hands there?" he asked gently, noticing your hesitation.

You looked down at the box in your hands and then back up at Chan with a small smile. "Just what I'm wearing for the date," you replied softly, hoping to steer the conversation away from the heavier thoughts weighing on your mind.

Chan's eyes widened slightly in surprise, his expression turning curious. "Oh, really?" he asked, his tone filled with interest. I've been looking forward to our date tonight. Are you excited?"

His enthusiasm was contagious, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to be swept up in his positivity.

"Yeah," you replied softly, managing a more genuine smile now. "I am. It'll be nice to just relax and enjoy some time together."

"That's great to hear. I can't wait." As he continued talking, his excitement filled the room. "I actually need to head out soon. I have a photoshoot in a few minutes," he explained apologetically, glancing at the clock. "But I'll meet you at the restaurant tonight, okay?"

Despite the heaviness in your heart, Chan's genuine enthusiasm lifted your spirits.

"Sounds perfect," you replied, grateful for his understanding and support. "I'll see you there."

Chan leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before heading towards the door. "Take care of yourself, Y/N. I love you."

With that, he left, his infectious positivity lingering in the air.

As Chan left, his words echoed in your mind. "I love you." The weight of those three words mingled with the sea of emotions you were feeling. You wanted to believe in the simplicity of his love, in the comfort it promised amidst the chaos.

But the truth you had just confronted threatened to overshadow everything. The betrayal, the deceit—it was a shadow you couldn't escape, even in Chan's loving embrace.

You set the box down on the coffee table, its contents a reminder of the tangled web of lies and secrets. With a heavy sigh, you sank deeper into the couch, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over you.

Minutes passed like hours as you sat there, lost in thoughts that refused to quiet. The sound of Chan's departure lingered in the silence, leaving behind a hollow ache in your chest.

Eventually, you roused yourself, realizing that dwelling on the pain wouldn't change the reality you faced. Tonight's date with Chan loomed ahead.

With a mix of curiosity and defiance, you opened the box and pulled out the dress. The emerald green dress shimmered in the light.

Why this dress? Why did Stay want me to have it?

Running your fingers over the fabric, you decided to wear it, feeling a strange pull to engage with the mystery rather than shy away from it.

After a quick shower and a bit of makeup, you slipped into the dress, its smooth texture clinging comfortably to your figure. Standing before the mirror, you assessed the overall look. The dress seemed to carry an air of intrigue, as if it held secrets yet to be uncovered. It was as if by donning this dress, you were stepping into a role—a role that STAY had laid out for you.

You hailed a cab to La Lumière, an exquisite restaurant known for its luxurious ambiance and gourmet cuisine. The cab ride was a blur of thoughts and emotions, the dress's presence a constant reminder of the enigmatic message from STAY.

As you arrived at the restaurant, the evening sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the elegant facade of La Lumière. The valet greeted you with a smile as you stepped out of the cab, feeling a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

Inside, the restaurant dazzled with its crystal chandeliers, soft music, and the murmur of patrons enjoying their meals. The maître d' welcomed you warmly and escorted you to a table set in a secluded corner, overlooking a garden.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. As you settled into your seat, your eyes scanned the room, searching for Chan. Moments later, you spotted him approaching with a smile that softened the edges of your unease.

Chan approached you with confident strides, dressed in a tailored black suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame. The soft lighting of the restaurant's ambiance cast a subtle glow on his features. His dark hair was neatly styled, adding to his effortlessly sophisticated appearance.

"Y/N," Chan greeted you warmly, his eyes alight with affection as he took your hand in his. "You look absolutely stunning."

You couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a flutter of warmth in your chest at his compliment. "Thank you," you replied softly, the tension of the evening slowly easing in his presence. "I'm glad you think so."

Chan leaned in slightly, his gaze lingering on you with an affectionate glow. "I always think so," he murmured sincerely, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand.

You smiled at Chan's sincere words, feeling a sense of comfort and security in his presence. The ambient music and soft murmur of other diners seemed to fade into the background as you focused on him.

"How was your photoshoot?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation to lighter topics, at least for now.

"It went really well," Chan replied, his smile widening. "We got some great shots. I can't wait for you to see them. What about you? How was your day?"

You hesitated, not wanting to dive into the emotional morning you had been through. "It was... eventful," you said with a faint smile, hoping to keep things vague.

Chan seemed to sense your reluctance and didn't press further. Instead, he squeezed your hand gently and changed the topic. "I'm really glad we're doing this tonight. We both needed a break."

The waiter arrived to take your orders, and you both chose your meals with ease. As he left, Chan's eyes lingered on you, a tender expression on his face.

"You know," he said softly, "when I saw you tonight, it reminded me of why I fell in love with you in the first place. You just have this way of making my eyes light up whenever I see you.

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You're just saying that."

"No, I mean it," Chan insisted, his gaze steady. "You've become my heart, and I can't imagine my life without you. I love you more than words can express, and I want to spend every moment showing you just how much you mean to me."

You felt your heart skip a beat at Chan's heartfelt words, his sincerity washing over you like a warm embrace. His gaze held yours, unwavering and filled with a depth of emotion that mirrored your own feelings.

"I love you too, Chan," you replied softly, your voice laced with affection. "More than you know."

A tender smile spread across Chan's face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with happiness. He leaned in closer, his hand reaching across the table to gently cup your cheek.

The first course arrived, beautifully presented and enticing. As you both began to eat, Chan kept the conversation light, talking about funny moments from his photoshoot and sharing amusing anecdotes that had you laughing despite yourself.

"So, there was this one pose they wanted me to do," Chan said with an amused grin, leaning in to share the story. "I had to hold this giant lollipop for the shoot. The thing was, I kept dropping it. They must have brought me like 40 lollipops! It was like a curse or something. Every time I tried to strike a pose, down went the lollipop."

You giggled, imagining the scene. "I wish I could have seen that."

"Oh, there are pictures," Chan assured you with a grin. "I'm sure they'll surface eventually."

As the evening progressed, the conversation flowed naturally, moving from light-hearted anecdotes to deeper, more meaningful topics. Chan's presence was like a balm to your troubled heart, his warmth and care enveloping you in a sense of safety you had almost forgotten.

As dessert was served—a decadent chocolate fondant with vanilla ice cream—Chan leaned in, his voice soft. "Remember our first date? How nervous we both were?"

You smiled at the memory. "Yes, you kept knocking over your glass.,,, and dropping your fork"

"So did you! we both reached down and knocked out heads togehter under the table." he chuckled. "We've come a long way since then."

"Yeah instead of forks your dropping lolipops now," you said

"I guess some things never change," he said.

As the last bites of dessert disappeared and the evening began to wind down, Chan glanced at his watch with a slight frown. "I just realized, I left my laptop at the studio," he admitted, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I need to go back and get it."

You nodded understandingly, though a part of you felt a pang of disappointment that the evening was ending sooner than expected. "It's alright," you reassured him with a smile, trying to hide any hint of sadness. "I can take a cab home. Don't worry about it."

Chan's expression softened, and he reached across the table to squeeze your hand gently. "I'm really sorry," he apologized sincerely. "I didn't mean for our night to end like this."

"It's okay, really," you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze in return.

With a lingering touch and a final exchange of affectionate glances, you both stood up from the table, ready to part ways for the night.

As Chan hailed a cab for you outside the restaurant, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within you—gratitude for the evening spent together, a lingering sadness that it had to end so abruptly, and a deep affection for Chan, whose presence had comforted you through the turmoil of the day.

As you settled into the backseat of the cab, Chan leaned in through the window, his warm gaze fixed on yours. "I'll call you as soon as I get home with the laptop," he promised softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

You nodded, a small smile gracing your lips. "Take care," you said, your voice betraying a hint of reluctance to part ways.

"I will," Chan replied with a gentle smile, his hand resting briefly on the window before he stepped back.

The cab pulled away from the curb, and you watched Chan's figure recede in the distance, a bittersweet feeling settling over you. As the city lights blurred outside the window, you reflected on the evening—the laughter, the heartfelt conversations, and the love you had for Chan.

Arriving home, you thanked the driver and stepped out onto the familiar street, the cool night air enveloping you.

As you approached your doorstep, your mind still lingering on the evening with Chan, you reached for the doorknob out of habit. To your surprise, it turned easily under your touch. You blinked, a flicker of confusion crossing your features. You never left the door unlocked—it was a simple precaution you always took.

Entering cautiously, your senses heightened, you scanned the living room. Everything seemed undisturbed, yet a feeling of unease lingered. The air felt charged, as if something had shifted in your absence. A soft rustling sound from the direction of the stairs drew your attention, setting your nerves on edge.

Your phone, suddenly, blinked out of existence, leaving you stranded in the dark room. You stared at it, praying it would come back to life.

But as seconds stretched on, it became painfully clear that your phone wasn't coming back. Its sudden death left you exposed, vulnerable to whatever dangers lurked in the shadows of your home.

Minutes tick by, each one stretching into an eternity as you strain to hear any sign of the intruder's presence. Your breath catches in your throat with every creak of the floorboards, every subtle shift in the air. The tension is palpable, suffocating, as you wait in the confined space of the closet, your heart pounding in your chest.

And then, just when you're starting to believe you imagined it all, you hear footsteps approaching. Each footfall reverberates through the floor, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your heart lurches into your throat as the closet door swings open, flooding the small space with blinding light. There they stand—the intruder—their eyes wild with fervor as they gaze down at you, cowering in the darkness.

"You're finally here," they breathe, their voice a mixture of awe and desperation. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long."

With trembling hands, you quickly move, darting past them as fast as you can and rushing into the kitchen. Your heart pounds in your chest as you grab a knife, the cold metal offering little help in the face of danger. "Stay back!" you yell out. "Dont come any closer."

But as you turn around, ready to defend yourself, you find the intruder standing in the doorway, their posture relaxed, almost casual, a mask covering their face.

The mask worn by the intruder is unsettlingly intricate. It's made of smooth, white porcelain, molded into a serene, almost doll-like face. The features are delicate yet haunting—the eyes hollow and dark, giving an impression of endless depth. Thin, painted lips are set in a neutral expression, devoid of emotion. The mask covers the entirety of the intruder's face, leaving no hint of their true identity behind its eerie facade.

"I see you wore the dress" they say suddenly.

You recongnize their voice. But why?

"Why are you here?" you manage to ask, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain composed. You know you need to keep them talking, buying time to figure out who they are and what they want.

The intruder pauses for a moment as if considering their response. "I've come to ensure things are how they were supposed be," they finally reply, their voice carrying an eerie calmness that sends a shiver down your spine. They take one step closer.

You instinctively take a step back, your mind racing as you try to piece together the puzzle of their identity.

"Stay? Is that what you call yourself?"

The intruder remains silent for a tense moment, seemingly unmoved by your words.

"Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?" they reply calmly, their tone sending a chill through your bones.

You continue to stall, hoping to glean more information that might help unravel this mystery. "What do you want from me?" you ask, your voice steadier now as you press for clarity.

The intruder's gaze behind the porcelain mask lingers on you for a moment longer, their expression inscrutable. "Everything," they say.

The intruder's laughter echoes in the room, a chilling sound that sends a shiver down your spine. It's a laugh you've heard before, but distorted by the mask and the eerie circumstances. As they laugh, you strain to place the familiar cadence, trying to ignore the fear creeping into your mind.

And then it clicks.

"Aera," you gasp, the name escaping your lips in a mix of disbelief and horror.

The laughter abruptly stops, replaced by an eerie silence that hangs heavily in the air. Aera stands before you, still masked and unnervingly composed, her gaze piercing through the porcelain facade.

"Why?" you manage to ask, your voice trembling as you struggle to comprehend the betrayal unfolding before you.

Aera removes the mask confirming your guess.

"Bingo," she mocks, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she echoes your earlier realization. "You finally figured it out."

Your heart sinks at her callous response, the sting of betrayal cutting deep. You struggle to comprehend her motives, the lack of empathy or regret hardening your resolve.

"You finally see me now, huh?" Aera's words carry a bitter edge, mocking and cold.

"See...you? What?" You stare at her, confusion furrowing your brow.

Aera's gaze hardens, her eyes narrowing with resentment. "You don't remember, do you?" Her voice drips with disdain. "No, of course you don't. You only cared about yourself."

Confusion clouds your thoughts as you try to recall any significant moments between you and Aera.

" We grew up in the same neighborhood, attended the same schools, and even shared dance and vocal lessons, " She said.

But your paths had rarely intersected beyond casual acquaintance.

"We weren't close," you finally manage to say, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Aera scoffs, the sound cutting through the tension in the room. "Close enough for you to take everything I ever wanted," she retorts bitterly.

You struggle to comprehend her accusation. "What do you mean?"

Aera's bitterness spills over as she recounts years of shared aspirations and unspoken rivalry. "We were always competing, whether you realized it or not," she admits harshly. "I should've had your life. I went through the same programs, the same auditions."

You listen intently, the pieces of a long-forgotten puzzle starting to click into place. Memories of school performances, talent shows, and the buzz surrounding Aera's undeniable talent begin to resurface. She had always been the standout, the star trainee whose potential had drawn the attention of talent scouts.

"I was the star of our school," Aera continues bitterly, her words painting a picture of missed opportunities and unfulfilled promises. "Everyone knew about me. I had dreams of making it big, just like you.....And then JYP came," Aera says, her voice lowering as she recounts the turning point. "They were interested in me. They saw my potential, just like everyone else did."

The realization dawns on you as Aera's story unfolds. You rememember that day...

"But they signed you instead," Aera concludes bitterly, her gaze locked on yours with a mix of resentment and resignation. "They chose you over me."

...It was the day you met Zayne, your manager.

The weight of her words settles heavily on your shoulders. The twist of fate that had catapulted you into the spotlight while leaving Aera behind, despite her undeniable talent and years of hard work.

"I didn't know," you say softly, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "I didn't know it was supposed to be you."

Aera's expression softens slightly, her eyes reflecting years of hurt and longing. "You got signed," she continues bitterly, her voice tinged with resignation. "You became the biggest star. And then you met Chan."

"I met Chan when we were young," Aera explains, a hint of nostalgia softening her tone. "We hit it off immediately. He was the one I dreamed of building a future with. But then both of you got signed, became trainees for JYP, and everything changed."

Her words hang between you like an accusation, echoing the unspoken truth of lost opportunities and shattered dreams. Aera's gaze, once soft with nostalgia, now hardened with years of pent-up frustration.

"I watched as you both soared to heights I could only dream of," she continues bitterly, her voice trembling slightly with suppressed emotion. "Stray Kids, Chan, Zayne, everything that should have been mine."

"But why? Why do all this?" you say.

"Because, you conceeded little bitch, If I cant have this life then neither can you. You dont deserve it. I'm the onle who worked hard for it, I'm the reason why zayne was there in the first place." she said bitterly.

"So if its between the two of us, why bring all the members throught it. Hyunjin, minho, seungmin, they didnt deserve any of that."

"because they were all in love with you. Your everything to all of them..."

"And your nothing to anybody."

She is quiet. The room feels suffocating, the tension palpable as you both stand there, trapped in the aftermath of years of unspoken grievances. Aera's silence speaks of years of watching from the sidelines, of dreams shattered and hearts broken. It's a silence that speaks louder than any words could, revealing the depth of her feelings and the wounds that may never fully heal.

"I didn't recognize you," you whisper, the realization hitting you like a wave of regret. "When you became my assistant, I didn't see who you really were."

Aera stops in her tracks, her back still turned to you. The bitterness in her voice seeps through her words. "Of course you didn't," she scoffs softly. "To you, I was just another face in the crowd, someone who was supposed to fade into the background."

You struggle to find the right words, wanting to explain, to make amends somehow. "I didn't mean to overlook you," you say, your voice tinged with sorrow. "I was caught up in my own world, chasing after what I thought was success....I'm sorry," you say, the words feeling inadequate in the face of Aera's pain.

Her gaze softens momentarily, a flicker of resignation crossing her features. "It's too late for sorry now," she replies quietly. "You have what you wanted. Everything I thought should have been mine."

You struggle to find the words to respond.

Her eyes, once filled with hurt and bitterness, now narrow with determination as she launches herself into action.

With startling speed, Aera lunges forward, her fists a blur of motion aimed directly at you. You barely manage to block her initial strikes, the impact jolting you backwards. The fight intensifies as you desperately parry her relentless assault, each blow ringing out like a bell in the confined space.

In a desperate move, Aera maneuvers you towards the cupboards, her strength and determination surprising you. With a powerful shove, she sends you crashing into the wooden cabinets, the impact reverberating through your body. Pain shoots through your back as the force knocks the wind out of you.

Gritting your teeth against the pain, you push back with equal fervor. Adrenaline courses through your veins, fueling your determination to end the confrontation. You muster every ounce of skill and agility, countering Aera's attacks with precision and ferocity.

The room echoes with the clash of bodies and the sound of splintering wood as the fight rages on. Sweat beads on your brow, mingling with the sting of exertion. Aera fights with a fervor fueled by years of resentment and perceived injustice, her strikes relentless and focused.

The battle with your emotions was just as intense as the physical struggle with Aera. You didnt want to hurt her. But you had to defend yourself. You knew you had to make a choice, the knife you had grabbed earlier gleaming in the kitchen light.

But before you can make a decision, you hear the distant wail of sirens approaching, the sound a stark reminder of the danger lurking just beyond your doorstep.

She flinches at the sound, her eyes darting towards the door with a mix of fear and resignation. For a moment, the facade of confidence slips, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath.

"I have to go," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I'll be back. I promise."

And with that, she turns and begins to run as fast as she can towards the back door. With a swift motion, she disappears into the night, leaving you alone in the darkness, the echoes of her words lingering like a haunting refrain.

As tears stream down your cheeks, you step back, your slowly back banging against the cupboard, and you slide down onto the floor, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. The events of the night felt like a nightmare, each moment etched into your memory with vivid clarity.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and in rush Chan, Changbin, and Minho, their faces a mix of concern and panic. Chan's eyes widen in alarm as he spots you on the floor, and he rushes towards you, dropping to his knees beside you.

"Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?" he bombards you with questions, his voice trembling with worry as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

You bury your face in Chan's chest, seeking comfort in his embrace as you try to steady your breathing.

Changbin and Minho hover nearby, their expressions mirroring Chan's concern as they scan the room for any signs of danger.

Before you can respond, the sound of heavy footsteps of approaching police officers fill the room.

Their voices loud and authoritative as they demand to know what's going on. For a moment, there's chaos as the officers mistake Chan, Changbin, and Minho for the intruders, their hands moving to their holsters in anticipation of danger.

But you quickly intervene, your voice shaky but firm as you clarify that they're your boyfriend and friends, not the ones who broke into your home. The tension in the room dissipates as the officers realize their mistake, and they quickly shift their focus to ensuring your safety and apprehending the real intruder.

Trembling in Chan's embrace, you find the courage to speak up, your voice still quivering with fear.

"Stay" you whisper.

"Of course baby...Im not going anywhere" he replies as his hand runs through your hair.

"No.. Stay," you repeat.

"Stay.......- Oh my God." He says, the words finally clicking. " They were here?"

You nod your head. He could not do anything more then stare at you in disbelief.

"I was so scared, Chan. I didn't know what to do." You recount the events of the night, the sense of violation still fresh in your mind.

"It was Aera," you whisper, the words tumbling out in a rush. "She broke into the house... She knew everything about me, Chan. It was like she was obsessed. Not only with me, but with you.... She was in love with you"

Chan's grip tightens around you, his expression darkening with anger and concern.

"That explains the letters…" Chan murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, his words hanging in the air as he tries to make sense of the connection.

"..What letters?" you say quietly.

"They were addressed to me, but they… they felt like love letters. Like someone was watching me, wanting something more…"

"Chan... you got letters and didn't tell me?" you say.

Chan sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I didn't think much of them," he admits, his voice tinged with regret. "They seemed harmless—compliments, admiration, nothing threatening."

Suddenlt, Two officers enter the kitchen area, their expressions serious yet professional. One introduces herself as Officer Jin, while her partner, Officer Kang, takes note of the surroundings.

"Thank you for coming," Chan says.

Officer Jin nods, her gaze shifting between you and Chan. "Can you please tell us what happened tonight?" she asks, her tone gentle yet authoritative.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to recount the events. "I.. got home and the door was unlocked," you begin, your voice steady despite the lingering unease. "I thought it was an intruder, so I texted Chan."

You continue. "I hid in the closet.. but they found me anyways. It was Aera.. my assistant. She had broken in. " he explains, his brow furrowing with concern. "She seemed... unstable."

Officer Kang scribbles notes in his pad, his expression focused as he listens intently. "Did she say why she was here?" he prompts, his eyes flicking up to gauge your reactions.

"She mentioned something about wanting what I have," you answer, recalling Aera's bitter words with a shiver. "She seemed fixated on the idea that my life should have been hers."

Officer Jin nods thoughtfully, her expression sympathetic. "And did she threaten you in any way?"

You hesitate, the memory of Aera's unsettling presence vivid in your mind. "She attacked me." you respond quietly.

His brow furrows ever so slightly, a shadow of concern darkening his features. You notice his jaw tighten, a telltale sign of his anger.

"I tried to defend myself... But she only stopped when we heard the sirens. Then she ran out the backdoor." With that, one of the other officers immediently left towards the backdoor.

Chan's gaze softens, his thumb gently wiping away your tears as he pulls you closer.

"Im sorry you had to go through that. In the meantime, we'll increase patrol in your area and provide you with a direct line to reach us if anything else happens."

You nod gratefully, feeling a sense of relief knowing that the authorities are taking the situation seriously. As the officers continue to ask detailed questions and jot down notes, Chan remains by your side.

You thank the officers and they leave, leaving you alone in the house with the other 3 boys. Chan pulls you into a tight embrace, whispering words of reassurance and comfort in your ear.

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace and the support of your friends, you begin to feel a glimmer of hope that you'll be able to put this terrifying ordeal behind you.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight tonight," he says, his tone firm yet gentle. "You're coming with me. I'll pack a bag for you." He moves to get up, but you cling to him tighter, the thought of being separated from him filling you with a deep sense of unease.

"Please, don't leave me," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chan's expression changes, his eyes reflecting the depth of his love and concern for you. "Okay..I won't, I promise," he assures you, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

With a sense of urgency, he gestures to Minho, who understands what is being asked of him.

Minho nods silently, understanding the gravity of the situation, and hurries off to gather your belongings. Meanwhile, Chan remains by your side.

As he returns with the bag packed, Chan helps you to your feet, his touch gentle yet reassuring. "Let's go," he says softly, his voice filled with determination.

With trembling limbs, you follow Chan out of the house, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and gratitude. But as his hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers together, you find solace in the warmth of his touch.

You get into the car, Changbin in the driver's seat, Minho in the front, and you and Chan in the back. You lean on Chan's shoulder as the car moves forward, finding comfort in his presence.

Your ready to put all this behind you. You allow yourself to close your eyes and rest.

Buzz

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

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@dandelions-143

[nando161mando]

Behold.. Idaho becomes the first to require ID.. for the PUBLIC LIBRARY. Knowledge and Thinking is the enemy.

[whereserpentswalk]

[thefugitivesaint]

''The Age of Surveillance Capitalism: The Fight for a Human Future at the New Frontier of Power'' by Shoshana Zuboff, 2018 "I define surveillance capitalism as the unilateral claiming of private human experience as free raw material for translation into behavioral data. These data are then computed and packaged as prediction products and sold into behavioral futures markets — business customers with a commercial interest in knowing what we will do now, soon, and later. It was Google that first learned how to capture surplus behavioral data, more than what they needed for services, and used it to compute prediction products that they could sell to their business customers, in this case advertisers. But I argue that surveillance capitalism is no more restricted to that initial context than, for example, mass production was restricted to the fabrication of Model T’s. Right from the start at Google it was understood that users were unlikely to agree to this unilateral claiming of their experience and its translation into behavioral data. It was understood that these methods had to be undetectable. So from the start the logic reflected the social relations of the one-way mirror. They were able to see and to take — and to do this in a way that we could not contest because we had no way to know what was happening. We rushed to the internet expecting empowerment, the democratization of knowledge, and help with real problems, but surveillance capitalism really was just too lucrative to resist. This economic logic has now spread beyond the tech companies to new surveillance–based ecosystems in virtually every economic sector, from insurance to automobiles to health, education, finance, to every product described as “smart” and every service described as “personalized.” By now it’s very difficult to participate effectively in society without interfacing with these same channels that are supply chains for surveillance capitalism’s data flows." from an interview with Shoshana Zuboff in the Harvard Gazette in March of 2019. It's an interesting interview that I suggest you peruse.

[multifandominfj]

Someone hold me back, because I’m about to jump over this table to fight Bitchabel for taking these photos, and Jesús for using them as blackmail.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! 💀🤬

[homucifer-ryotan]

At this point saying and hashtagging #Stop Kosa isn't enough. We should doing a #Stop Chuck Schumer tag.

And by stopping him, I mean calling him as much as Mike Johnson, Hakeem Jeffries, and Steve Scalise, and politely and patiently convincing him on why Kill Online Speech Act will not be good for anyone, let alone American kids.

Schumer has been pushing for KOSA way too much (even more than Marsha Blackburn and Richard Blumenthal lately, and they were the ones who created that cursed bad internet bill in the first place) and he is mostly likely the reason KOSA is back from the dead after being gone for just about a month.

He has using Kill Online Speech Act's title of "Kids Safety" and misguided American parents to push the bill to become legal (even though there are American parents that do not want KOSA). We need not only more Americans, especially American parents to call him and convince why making KOSA a law would not only be bad for kids (and everyone else in the world) but will also make America look bad.

TLTR: Chuck Schumer looks like KOSA biggest supporter and is most likely the reason why Kill Online Speech Act got brought back from the dead even though the bill is an invasion of privacy and violates the first amendment. The more American parents call him on all the reasons why is a bad internet bill, the more likely we can KOSA can be dead for good.

Please parents and everyone else, use the google doc and other links before and keep calling Mike Johnson, Hakeem Jeffries, Steve Scalise, and Chuck Schumer calmly and politely. For the sake of having free and safe internet for everyone regardless of age.

[nemfrog]

House tour. Better Homes and Gardens. April 1947. Mildly titillating magazine ad for shower curtains.

Internet Archive

[whumpshaped]

i have no excuse. im sorry. but this popped into my head and now it must exist. its not even whump i just. u'll see

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, invasion of privacy

"Don't go in there!" Beck said pleadingly, quickly rushing to stand between Helle and the closed bedroom door. "Please. That's my room. It's�� it's private, it's... it's where I sleep–"

"Yes, that is often the purpose of a bedroom." His desperate attempt to stop them clearly backfired, because the vampire looked even more intrigued now. "Are you hiding something horrible? Something embarrassing, perhaps?"

"I'm n-not hiding anything, just... I don't want strangers in my bedroom."

"Strangers?" Helle looked wounded. "How many bites for an acquaintance? Or do you often let strangers bite you?"

"I don't want my acquaintances in my bedroom."

"Very well." They stepped away, sighing. "There is nothing I can do but respect the home owner's wishes."

Technically, I'm renting. He didn't say it, not wanting to give Helle any loopholes to exploit. But he soon realised the vampire didn't need a loophole as he was shoved aside and they marched right in.

"Was that what you were hoping I would say?" came their voice from inside, and Beck ran after them. "Do not be so naive. I said I wanted to explore the house ful– oh. That is adorable."

"Don't touch him!" He wasn't fast enough, of course he wasn't. Before he could do anything, Helle snatched the little thing from his bed, cradling it in their arms.

"What a sweet fellow," they cooed, giving the plush bat the biggest, fondest smile. Beck stayed still, suddenly very nervous about making a move Helle didn't approve of. Would they be so evil as to hurt Boba? "You absolutely cannot tell me you were hiding him. I would be heartbroken."

"I..." He watched as Helle squished the bat a couple times, seemingly enjoying themself greatly. "N-no, I wasn't..."

"Good. What a delight to know that one of my kin has already taken up residence here. Obviously, you are not opposed to housing creatures of the night."

Housing? "Y-you don't want to stay, do you?" he stammered, still anxious about his vulnerable friend being held by such a monster. Helle glanced up and shot him a mischievous grin.

"What if I do?" They nodded towards the stuffed animal. "Does he have a name, by any chance?"

Beck bit his lip. This was so stupid. Why were they asking about a plushie he had? Why couldn't they just be disinterested? "Boba," he muttered eventually.

"Would you really deprive sweet Boba of appropriate company?"

"You are not appropriate company. Boba has no ties to you or any vampire." Oh god, this was such a stupid argument to have. But he just wanted to have this one thing, the little piece of joy that still remained in his life even with the constant pain and paranoia. Couldn't they even let him have that?

"You sadden me." They gently placed the toy on the bed where they'd found it, and Beck snatched it up immediately, holding it close to his chest. "But no, I do not intend to stay for long. Possibly a few hours." Their smile softened as they looked at him; Beck would've almost described it as sympathetic. "Dear Boba is safe from my evil ways. I promise."

The vampire rarely ever made promises, that was one thing Beck realised about them very early on... nor were they particularly trustworthy. But this time, they seemed sincere. He hesitantly nodded, still holding the bat tight. "Thank you."

Maybe... maybe Helle still had some semblance of humanity left in them.

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm

[kotamagic]

Government bastards keep trying to push this through. Don't let them!

[lightscamerabitchsmileee]

Vote for your fave, reblog & share your thoughts and other faves (even outside of this list) I would love to hear it 😊😊

Check out my masterpost for the other open polls thank you and have fun 😊😊

[valkyriexo]

Invasion of Privacy | Ep. 2 - Favors

ᑉ³SYNOPSIS; In the dazzling world of fame, you have it all—a beautiful home, devoted fans, and Chan, the love of your life. But when cryptic messages start arriving, the line between adoration and obsession blurs. With each note, you feel increasingly unsafe. Now, you're on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth before it's too late.

ᑉ³PAIRING; Chan x Idol! reader. Ft. Stray Kids

ᑉ³GENRE; Smau, FF , Angst, Hurt, Comfort, mystery

ᑉ³GENERAL WARNINGS ; Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, mentions of blood, Home invasion, cursing, Kissing, Pain, death, Implied female reader, Certain episodes may be Suggestive MDNI

ᑉ³EPISODE WARNINGS;  Death, Suggestive MDNI, Cursing

EPISODE WORD COUNT; 4.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE ;Surprise! Episode 2.. have you ruled some people out yet?

If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Whether it's through comments, reblogs, or sending an ask, your feedback means the world to me.

Master Post | Teaser |

The morning sun casts a warm glow over the bustling streets as you and Chan make your way through the vibrant shopping district. Surrounded by a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling up within you.

As you stroll arm in arm with Chan, laughter spills from your lips, the carefree atmosphere infectious as you revel in each other's company. The windows of the shops lining the street display an array of enticing goods, each one tempting you with its allure.

Entering a boutique, you're greeted by a wave of delightful scents and the soft melody of music playing in the background. You browse through racks of clothing, giggling and flirting as you playfully model various outfits for each other.

"What about this?" he asks, trying to contain his smile. You can't help but burst into laughter at Chan's suggestion, his playful grin infectious as he holds up the most outrageous garment he could find.

"This could work perfectly for the family dinner."

"Oh, absolutely," you reply with a playful grin, "I'm sure my parents would love to see you show up in that."

"You know what? I think there's a matching one for you," he says with a sly grin, disappearing into the racks of clothing.

Moments later, Chan emerges from the racks of clothing with a triumphant grin, holding up what can only be described as a fashion disaster. The dress in question is a riot of colors, with clashing patterns and textures that seem to defy all sense of style. But what truly sets it apart are the dozens of teddy bears, each one seemingly hand-sewn onto the fabric with reckless abandon.

"Voila!" he exclaims, unable to contain his laughter at the sight of the garment.

"Chan, what on earth is that?" you manage to choke out between giggles.

Chan's eyes widen dramatically, a look of mock horror crossing his face. "What? You don't like it?" he exclaims, his voice filled with playful disbelief. "To think, I put so much effort into finding the perfect ensemble, only to have my impeccable taste called into question."

You play along with his theatrics, pretending to be remorseful. "Oh, forgive me, fashion guru," you say with a grin, reaching out to pat his arm consolingly. "But that thing looks like it was designed by a kindergartener on a sugar rush."

Chan chuckles, unable to contain his amusement any longer. "Okay, maybe not the best choice," he admits, his laughter blending with yours as you share a lighthearted moment amidst the racks of clothing.

"Ooh, what do you think of this one?" you ask, grabbing a dress that caught your eye. As you hold the dress in front of you, its allure is undeniable. The flowy skirt cascades from your hands, swaying gently with each movement, while the corset top adds a touch of allure and sophistication to the ensemble.

The corset is expertly tailored. Its intricate lace-up design adds a hint of drama and elegance, drawing the eye to the sculpted lines of the bodice.

Chan's eyes light up as he gazes at you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Absolutely stunning," he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. 

"The dress or me?" you say.

Chan's grin widens as he steps closer, his gaze lingering on you with unabashed appreciation. "Well, the dress is lovely, But you? You're dangerous"

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Dangerous, huh?" you echo, feigning innocence as you tilt your head, "And why's that?"

Chan's grin widens. "Well, it's simple," he says, his voice a smooth, seductive murmur, "because you make heads turn so hard they might break their necks." The words hang in the air, thick with implication, as he leans in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours.. "You make it impossible to look away, sweetheart."

Before you can respond, he closes the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It's a moment of sweet surrender, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine as you melt into the embrace.

When he finally pulls away, a knowing smile plays at the corners of his lips, his eyes alight with affection. "See what I mean?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Absolutely dangerous."

You can't help but laugh at his corny yet utterly charming response, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you at his words. "Smooth talker," you tease, nudging him playfully

"Smooth talker? Nah, I prefer to think of myself as a master of compliments," he quips. "But hey, if the shoe fits..."

As you glance past Chan, your laughter fades as something catches your eye through the boutique window. Your gaze falls on a figure standing farther away, amidst the bustling crowd of people passing by. Despite the distance, their eyes seem to lock onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

You freeze for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to make out their features through the crowd. You realize that their features are obscured not just by the throng of people, but also by an oversized hood and mask that conceals most of their face, leaving only a vague silhouette in your line of sight.

With a surge of determination, you shove the dress into Chan's hands, your urgency evident in the abruptness of your movements. "Hold this," you instruct him quickly, your voice trembling.

Before Chan can react, you turn on your heel and bolt out of the boutique, your heart pounding in your chest. Pushing through the wave of shoppers, you make your way towards them, only to find that they have vanished into the crowd, leaving behind nothing but an eerie sense of déjà vu.

"Where are you going?" Chan's voice breaks through your thoughts, his tone laced with concern as he noticed your sudden change in direction. Frustration mounts as you search fruitlessly for any sign of the stranger, your senses on high alert. But no matter how hard you looked, they were gone.

"I saw... something," you reply cryptically, your focus solely on tracking down the shadowy figure that had captured your attention.

Chan's hand finds yours, his touch grounding you in the midst of your swirling thoughts. "Saw what?" he questions, his tone gentle yet insistent.

"I-....Nothing....Nevermind," you murmur, shaking your head slightly as you try to dismiss the unsettling encounter. Despite Chan's comforting presence, the memory of the mysterious figure lingers in the back of your mind

"Are you sure?" Chan asks, his concern evident in his voice. "We can stay if you want, but if you're feeling unwell, maybe we should head home."

You consider his suggestion, feeling a sense of relief at the prospect of leaving the bustling street behind. "Yeah, let's go home," you agree, a small smile playing on your lips. "And hey, how about we cook lunch together? It could be fun."

Chan's eyes light up at the suggestion, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I like the sound of that," he says, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "Let's get going then." With his hand in yours, you allow him to lead you away from the busy street.

Once home, you kick off your shoes and settle into the cozy ambiance of your shared space. Chan wastes no time in heading to the kitchen, his enthusiasm for cooking evident as he gathers ingredients and starts preparing lunch.

As you watch him move around the kitchen with practiced ease, you find your thoughts drifting, a slight fog settling over your mind. You know you should be helping him, but the weight of your thoughts is making it difficult to focus. Your mind is a mix of thoughts, uncertainties, and unresolved questions.

"Hey, could you help me out with this?" Chan's voice breaks through your reverie, snapping you back to the present.

You blink, realizing you've been lost in your own thoughts for a few minutes. "Sorry, what was that?" you ask, your voice slightly distant.

Chan gives you a concerned look. "I asked if you could cut this cucumber for me," he repeats, holding out the vegetable and a knife.

You take them from him, trying to shake off the fog that clouds your mind. "Right, sorry," you mumble, feeling guilty for not being more present.

As you slice through the cucumber, your mind still feels preoccupied. Chan's voice brings you back once again.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone gentle as he looks at you.

You meet his gaze, offering him a weak smile. "Yeah, just lost in thought," you reply, though you know it's more than that.

In response, Chan sets down the ingredients he's working with and moves closer to you. There's a determined yet gentle look in his eyes as he takes your hand, pulling you away from the cutting board and towards him.

Without a word, he guides you to sit on the edge of the countertop opposite him. His touch is comforting as he stands between your legs, his hands resting on your waist.

"You seem really on edge," he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Is there something specific that's bothering you?"

You hesitate. "I don't know," you murmur, not really wanting to reveal much.

"You don't know, or you don't want to talk about it?" Chan's voice is gentle but probing, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow.

"I don't know," you confess. "I'm just feeling.....weird."

Chan's lips brush against your neck in a tender gesture, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

"Feeling weird huh....," he murmurs against your skin, his warm breath sending a wave of tingles through you. You find yourself nodding, unable to form coherent thoughts as his lips continue their mesmerizing dance along your skin. The tension that had gripped your shoulders begins to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of warmth and arousal.

"Does this help?" his kisses growing bolder, more insistent. His hands wander back down to your waist, tugging you closer. You feel the heat from his body even through the layers of clothing, his arousal pressing insistently against your stomach. You nod again, feeling your face grow hot as your body reacts to his touch. "You always help," you reply softly, melting into his comforting touch as his lips trail along the sensitive skin of your neck. 

He looks up, meeting your gaze with gratitude and affection. Leaning in, you close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. The soft, sweet press of his lips is everything you've dreamed of and more.

He moans softly as your tongue darts out to tease at the seam of his lips, eagerly granting you access. You can taste the faint traces of peppermint on his tongue as it slips into your mouth, tangling with yours in a heated dance.

You sigh happily, losing yourself in the kiss as the world seems to fall away around you.

He slides a hand up the back of your neck, gripping your hair and using it to pull you closer to him. His mouth moves over yours, hot and hungry.

"Tell me what's on your mind, love," he urges, his voice husky with desire.

"It's...it's nothing," you breathe, gasping slightly as his hand tightens in your hair. " I was just... just thinking.." you stutter as he trails a line of hot kisses along your jaw.

"Mmmhmm" he purrs, his breath warm against your skin.

His hands slide down back down your sides, caressing your hips and then moving further south to cup your ass. He squeezes firmly, making you gasp in surprise, and then grinds his hips against you, causing a jolt of electricity to shoot through your body.

"Chan," you moan, arching your back and pressing closer to him. You want more. Need more.

"Hmmm?" he hums against your lips, kissing you again.

"You're distracting me."

He smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "Maybe that's the point," he murmurs, his hand moving to your front to palm your breast through your shirt. You whimper softly as he continues to explore your body with his mouth and hands, teasing you mercilessly until you can’t take it anymore.

A faint sound interrupts the peace of the moment. It's barely noticeable at first, like a distant melody weaving its way into the room.

Chan lifts his head slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Did you say something?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Chan, want you..” You beg.

He smirks against your lips and pulls away slightly, looking down at you with dark eyes. “What do you want?” he asks, voice low and husky.

“Tell me what you want, baby.... I need to know.” You swallow thickly, your face heating up at the way he stares at you with lust in his eyes.

He growls low in his throat and leans back down to kiss you again, more forcefully this time. His tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. The taste of him fills your senses and makes your head spin.

"You."

His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, caressing your skin. You can't help but arch your back, pressing closer to him.

"Please..." you beg.

He trails kisses down the column of your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a path of fire in their wake. He bites down on the junction where your neck meets your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and you gasp in pleasure.

His fingers deftly unbutton your shirt and push it aside, revealing the black lace bra underneath.

The faint sound interrupts the space once more, still barely noticeable.

Chan lifts his head again slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Did you hear that?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with curiosity.

You shake your head, the sensation of his touch still lingering on your skin, your attention fully focused on him.

He frowns and turns his attention back to your exposed chest, placing kisses in the valley in your chest. He lets out a contented sigh and moves lower, trailing kisses along the curve of your stomach.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs against your skin. " but i know something that taste so much sweeter."

Your breath catches in your throat as his lips brush against your inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin there.

He pulls back and looks up at you, his dark eyes burning with desire.

"You want me, baby?"he asks, his voice rough with need. You nod wordlessly, unable to speak. He smirks and places another soft kiss against your skin, making your whole body shudder. "Say it."

"Y-yes."

"Say my name," he commands, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thighs.

"Chan."

"Again."

"Chan."

"Louder."

"Chan!"

"Mmmm."

His tongue darts out to lick a stripe along the seam of your panties, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You can feel his hot breath on your core, teasing you through the thin material. You moan, arching up against him, and his hands move lower, slipping into your panties. His fingers brush over your folds, and he lets out a low growl as he feels how wet you are.

"So wet for me already, babygirl?" he murmurs, his lips pressed against your ear.

"Yes," you breathe, squirming under his touch. "I need you, Channie."

The sound persists, growing slightly louder this time, and you both become aware of a subtle vibration beneath you. Gradually, realization dawns as you exchange a puzzled glance.

Chan runs his other hand through his hair, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Okay," he muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and determination. "I know I'm not going crazy."

With a sudden jolt of recognition, you shift and reach into your pocket and retrieve your phone.

You glance at the screen, irritation flaring up as the same unfamiliar number flashes over and over again. Chan shoots you a pointed look, his annoyance palpable.

"Who is it?" he mutters, his eyes narrowing.

"It's some number ," you reply, your frustration mirroring his. "They keep calling me, and I don't know who it is."

With a sigh, you decline the call and return the phone to your pocket.

"Well, whoever it is, they can wait," he growls, leaning in to continue his previous actions.

The phone vibrates once again, the display illuminating.

You both let out an exasperated groan as the ringing persists.

"This is ridiculous," he huffs, his lips curled into a frown. "Why won't they just leave a message or something?"

The phone continues to ring, its shrill sound cutting through the silence of the room. You sit up, reluctantly untangling yourself from his embrace, and reach for your phone again. "Fine, I'll answer it," you grumble, pressing the answer button with more force than necessary.

"Must be important if they're calling this many times," he remarks under his breath. You offered a strained smile in response before finally speaking into the phone, trying to keep your frustration in check as you greeted the unknown caller.

"Hello?" you say, trying to ignore Chan's comment.

"Hello, Y/N."

"Yes? Who is this? How do you know my name?" Your voice trembled with a mixture of confusion and apprehension, the unexpected familiarity sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm sorry to inform you, but there's been a fire at Y/F/N's house," the voice continued, its words carrying a weight that seemed to crush the very air around you. "They... they didn't make it out in time. I'm so sorry."

The world seemed to come to a screeching halt as the full impact of those words registered in your mind. Your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach, a heavy weight settling over you like a suffocating blanket.

Shock immobilizes you, rendering you momentarily speechless as your mind struggles to process the news. Disbelief clouds your thoughts, and for a fleeting moment, you entertain the hope that this must be some cruel prank or a terrible misunderstanding. But the solemnity in the caller's voice leaves no room for doubt, and the reality of the situation hits you with relentless force.

"What?" The word escapes your lips in a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. It feels as though the ground beneath you has shifted.

"Your friend has passed away," the voice repeats, its tone filled with sympathy.

Your breaths come in shallow gasps as you struggle to comprehend the news, each inhalation feeling like a struggle against an invisible weight pressing down upon your chest. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment, but you fight to hold them back, afraid of what might happen if you allow yourself to surrender to the overwhelming sense of grief. Your hands tremble as you clutch the phone tightly, the cold metal offering little solace in the face of such devastating news.

Chan's irritation dissipates instantly as he sees the color drain from your face. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with worry.

You struggle to find the words, your mind reeling from the devastating news. "It's... it's ," you manage to choke out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "She didn't make it... there was a fire..."

As you relay the news, Chan's expression shifts from concern to horror as your words sink in. His features contort with disbelief, mirroring the shock and anguish etched across your own face. For a moment, neither of you can find the words to articulate the overwhelming grief that threatens to consume you both.

All around you, the morning light seems to dim, casting a pall of darkness over the room as you come to terms with the harsh reality of mortality. The laughter and playful banter of moments ago fade into the background, replaced by the deafening silence of grief.

"I never got to say goodbye," you confess. Chan's arms wrap around you in a comforting embrace, holding you close, as if trying to shield you from the pain that threatens to overwhelm you. You bury your face in his chest, his heartbeat echoing in your ears.

The phone slips from your grasp, forgotten amidst the grief. Time loses all meaning as you surrender to the overwhelming tide of emotions, the world around you fading into insignificance as you grapple with the void left behind by your friend's passing.

In an attempt to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos, you seek refuge in the familiar routine of your self-care, the warm shower offering a brief respite from the relentless pain. But even as the water cascades over you, washing away the physical traces of sorrow, the weight of grief remains heavy upon your shoulders, a reminder of the gaping hole in your heart.

When you emerge, you are greeted by the sight of Minho, Seungmin, Felix, and Han, chatting quietly with Chan as they enjoy the lunch he had prepared.

Your heart sinks at the sight of them, a mix of surprise and apprehension washing over you. You had completely forgotten that they were supposed to come over today, and the thought of facing them in your current state fills you with dread.

Before you can retreat back into the safety of your room, Felix spots you, his gaze locking onto yours with a mix of concern and understanding. There's no escaping now. You feel a lump form in your throat as you reluctantly step into the room, their eyes following your every move.

Chan's expression softens as he catches sight of you, concern etched into his features. "Hey, there you are," he says gently, his voice a welcome anchor in the storm of emotions raging within you.

You offer a weak smile in response, attempting to mask your emotions. The weight of their collective gaze feels suffocating, and you find it difficult to meet their eyes.

Minho offers a sympathetic smile as you approach, his eyes reflecting the shared sorrow. "I'm so sorry for your loss," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine compassion.

Your throat tightens with emotion at his words, grateful for his heartfelt condolences. "Thank you," you manage to croak, each syllable heavy with the weight of your grief. You step closer to them, the fragrant scent of the flowers filling the air around you. "This means a lot."

Seungmin nods in agreement. "We're here for you," he assures you earnestly, his voice filled with sincerity and support.

You offer Seungmin a grateful nod, feeling a lump form in your throat at the sincerity in his voice. "Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion.

With a final round of supportive embraces and reassuring words, Minho, Seungmin, Felix, and Han bid their farewells, their departure leaving an emptiness in the room. As the door closes behind them, the silence settles in around you, heavy with the weight of your grief.

Your eyes catch sight of a single black rose with a white ribbon tied around it, placed delicately on the counter, near the gift basket. The ribbon, elegantly tied around the stem in a neat bow, adds an air of mourning to the scene, evoking memories of funeral bouquets and memorial services. It's presence feels out of place in the bright warmth of your home, casting a shadow of unease over the otherwise cheerful atmosphere.

Beside the rose, the torn page from a diary lies in disarray, its edges jagged and uneven, hinting at a hurried and frantic tearing. As you approach, the faint scent of ink lingers in the air, mingling with the delicate fragrance of the rose.

"What... what is this?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach out to examine the mysterious objects. Your fingers tremble slightly as you pick up the torn page, the words written upon it sending a chill down your spine.

 You quietly read the note out aloud, the words sinking in with a weight that threatens to crush your spirit.

It's the same signature as the letter you received the night before, the one that filled you with a sense of foreboding.

This wasn't just a casual letter. It was intentional. Someone out there is targeting you, and you can't help but feel a creeping sense of unease at the thought of what might happen next.

Your mind races with questions, each one more terrifying than the last. Was "Her" referring to your friend? Did someone harm her? The possibility sends a wave of panic coursing through you, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggle to make sense of the cryptic message.

Then the realization sinks in:

How did it get in the house?

You frantically look around for Adam, your bodyguard, realizing he should have been by your side. Panic sets in as you rush to the door, throwing it open to find him outside. Confusion and fear intertwine as you demand an explanation.

"Adam, what are you doing out here?" you ask, your voice trembling with urgency. "You were supposed to be inside with me. Why are you here?"

Adam's expression is grave as he meets your gaze, a shadow of concern flickering across his features. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he says, his tone tinged with regret. "I sensed something off and decided to check the perimeter. Is everything okay?"

You furrow your brow, a mixture of frustration and concern evident in your voice as you question him. "How did this get inside?" you say waving the note and flower in your hand.

Adam's gaze follows the items, his expression darkening as he takes them from you, examining them closely. He hesitates for a moment, looking puzzled before responding, "I'm not sure," he admits, his voice tight with worry. "I didn't see anything, ma'am."

Your irritation grows. "Isn't it your job to do just that?" you say sharply, the edge in your voice reflecting your annoyance at the situation.

Adam, visibly flustered, stammers out . "I apologize, ma'am," He said bowing. "I'll check with the other guards on duty as well as Stacy, who was here this morning"

"Who's Stacy?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar name.

As if on cue, Aera enters through the front entrance, her presence graceful as she bows respectfully. "That would be me, ma'am," she says, introducing herself with a polite smile. "It's my English name. Most people call me Stacy. Though I must admit, I prefer Aera."

You nod in acknowledgment, still processing the unexpected revelation.

You address your bodyguard with a firm tone, your frustration evident. "Under no circumstances are you to allow anything or anyone into my home without my explicit permission. Is that clear?"

He nods in understanding, chastened by your stern reprimand. "Yes, ma'am," he responds.

You turn your gaze towards Aera, a firm expression etched upon your features. "And why, may I ask, are you here?" you inquire, your tone tinged with a hint of sternness.

Aera's eyes widen slightly, and she bows apologetically. "I... I'm sorry for the intrusion," she stammers, her voice soft with regret. "I wanted to offer my condolences, but I realize now that I've interrupted."

Aera retrieves a bouquet of flowers from behind her back, her movements hesitant as she extends it towards you with a slight bow,her eyes downcast with humility.

You nod, acknowledging her apology, taking the bouquet, delicately tied together with a pristine white ribbon, from her hands. "Thank you, Aera," you say, your voice softening slightly. "But next time, please check with me before coming over."

Aera bows again, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Of course, I'm sorry," she says, her tone contrite. "I'll make sure to do that in the future."

As she turns to leave, Chan steps forward, concern etching his features as he approaches you, his touch gentle as he places a comforting hand on your back. Aera's gaze lingers on him for a moment, a flicker of curiosity dancing in her eyes before she quickly averts her gaze and bows once more.

"Thank you. You may go home now," you say, dismissing her with a nod. Aera bows again, her expression a mix of regret and understanding, before quietly leaving.

Turning to Adam, you gesture for him to follow suit. "You too," you say, your voice firm but not unkind. Adam bows respectfully before leaving, leaving you alone with Chan and the weight of the day's events settling upon your shoulders.

Chan notices the tension in your posture, his concern evident as he approaches you with a gentle touch.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You offer him a reassuring smile, though it feels strained. "Yeah, I'm fine," you reply, though the words ring hollow even to your own ears.

Chan's gaze softens as he takes in your troubled expression. "You don't have to pretend, you know," he says softly, his hand reaching out to gently brush away a stray lock of hair from your face. "I'm here for you, whatever you need."

Chan notices your hesitation and gently prompts, "You've been on edge all day. Do you want to talk? I want to help."

As you lean into Chan's comforting embrace, the tension in your shoulders begins to ease, but the sense of unease still lingers at the edge of your consciousness. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to voice your concerns.

"I... I feel like someone's watching me," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chan's brow furrows with concern. "Watching you? Why didn't you tell me before?" he asks gently, his concern evident in his tone.

You hesitate, searching for an explanation. "I'm not actually sure," you admit, feeling a pang of guilt for keeping it from him.

"Well, do you think it's your mind playing tricks on you?" Chan suggests, trying to offer a rational explanation. "Now that you've won Artist of the Year, you probably just feel like more attention is on you."

"Yeah, you're right," you concede, the weight of his words resonating with you. Perhaps it was just your imagination running wild in the aftermath of your recent success.

"Besides," he adds, "you have a bodyguard. He's good at his job. You're safe with him around."

You nod, appreciating his attempt to ease your worries. "Yeah, you're right," you agree, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his words. 

"And you also have me," he adds

Chan's concern is evident in the softness of his gaze as he gently suggests, "How about a massage?"

His caring tone and thoughtful suggestion warm your heart, and you can't help but smile at his consideration. "That sounds wonderful," you reply. "But I think I just want to rest," you admit, exhaustion tugging at your limbs as the events of the day catch up with you.

Chan's lips curve into a reassuring smile as he squeezes your hand gently. "Okay." He says.

With a heavy heart, you decide against sharing the note with Chan. You don't want to burden anyone of your fears, and the thought of putting him in harm's way fills you with dread.

What if whoever sent this comes after him next?

For now, you keep the note to yourself, tucked away where no one else can find it. It's a burden you'll bear alone, at least until you can figure out who's behind this and why they're doing it.

But no matter how hard you try, the sense of foreboding lingers, a constant reminder that danger may be closer than you think.

ઇଓ Ep.3 - Knock, Knock

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[nando161mando]

[aurlworthfightingfor]

My neighbors (the chipmunk killers) have a camera pointed at my yard and a little in our house, and according to our fine quality stand up pigs in blue, there’s nothing we can do about it. Apparently having a camera pointed in our house and yard is NOT a violation of our privacy because “everyone has ring doorbells these days, so everyone’s recording each others houses all the time”

And he was so fucking intelligent that he couldn’t see a difference between camera for protection at your door that happens to catch the fronts of other peoples houses and camera pointed directly and only directly into your fucking yard and house. It’s after all the “same thing”

Also we can’t stop them from trapping and killing chipmunks because they’re “just pests”

Anyway is there any legal things I can do to fuck with them? Supposedly we don’t want to escalate anything from this, but I really fucking won’t stand for this any longer.

Those fucking assholes trapped another chipmunk and it’s not even dead yet. It’s just suffering. And I can’t do anything about it because it’s on their side. I’m so fucking angry and I don’t know what to do about it.

[tomoleary]

Carl Barks “Invasion of Privacy” Uncle Scrooge Illustration Original Art (1995) Source