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zarameraki · 2 months ago

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🖊️💌 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗽𝗲𝗻-𝗽𝗮𝗹 🖊️💌

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 prisoner sukuna x his penpal 𖥔 just plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 pussayy eating rawr but also u suck his dick so 𖥔 uraume and toji found family 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw

: ̗̀➛ words: 10k?? idfk it's long

: ̗̀➛ notes: happy halloween, mamas! 🎃 i know ive been MIA for a while but thats because i wasnt feeling creative. but now ive dumped a 10k sukuna fic on you for you to read at 3 in the morning. this one's got a kick to it yall. its long but give the bitch a chance, shes good. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

So, this was where you’d ended up—on a site for writing to prisoners. A pen-pal with an inmate.

How lonely did you have to be to fill out your info, pay a yearly fee, and do this? The answer: really, really lonely. Orphaned, friendless, and scarred from a relationship that had left you with broken ribs and a blind eye. And as if to top it all off, you wanted to reach out to a criminal. I guess you deserved at least that small bit of connection.

You scrolled through inmate profiles, noting their crimes—arson, theft, cybercrime, drug trafficking, money embezzlement, and so on. None of them were charged with homicides or serious offences.

One profile did catch your eye. The smirk in his mugshot suggested he’d probably killed someone and managed to evade the cops before they could pin anything on him.

“Sukuna Ryomen,” you whispered, clicking on his profile and staring at a laundry list of crimes. “Aggravated assault, drug manufacturing and distribution, kidnapping—Jesus—extortion, cybercrime, Satanism . . . what the hell?” You chuckled as you scrolled further. “Bank burglary, vandalism of religious properties—so that’s the Satanism part—illegal possession of firearms, stalking?”

Why was this man even on this website, given his long list of crimes?

You zoomed in on his mugshot. Was it wrong to find him attractive despite his record? He truly embodied the term “bad boy,” though he didn’t look like a boy at all. He was ruggedly handsome with hollowed eyes. His light-mink hair was swept back, with a few strands falling over his forehead, and he wore a single hoop earring in his left ear. Black tattoos marked his nose bridge, jaw, and the centre of his forehead, while narrow-eyed designs were inked on his cheekbones.

You wondered if he’d get any letters, given his long rap sheet. Maybe delusional women like you, who’s pussies sang for high-profile criminals, sure.

Licking your lower lip, you picked up a piece of paper and a pen, tapping the end against the sheet as you continued to study his face.

Then you started writing.

Hello, Sukuna Ryomen,

My name is Y/N.

You thought it over. For now, you'd keep it light before diving into your deeper issues. It felt easier to share your thoughts with someone you’d never meet face-to-face than with a stranger in a bar whose only interest was getting into your pants.

You kept writing.

Dear Sukuna Ryomen,

I’m currently living in an apartment complex that’s in desperate need of renovation. I’m harvesting cockroaches—no, I’m not eating them; the fuckers just won’t stop nesting in my kitchen cabinets, and I’m tired of spending money on pest sprays. On top of that, I’m pretty broke, barely managing to keep a roof over my head. I’ve even considered trying to seduce the landlord into reducing my rent, though I doubt any man would find a woman with one working eye appealing. I noticed you have an extra beneath your real eyes. Care to share?

Anyway, this is my first time writing to someone like you, so apologies if it’s a bit awkward. I wish I could send a nude, but I’m pretty sure you’d wish you were blind after that. I feel like I’m rambling like this is my diary, so I should probably wrap it up. If you want to write back, feel free. I don’t mean to sound privileged, but I’m lonely as fuck.

Thank you (?),

Y/N

P.S. About the Satanism—care to explain?

You didn’t bother proof-reading and folded the letter into an envelope, sealing it with a lick. From your drawer, you pulled out a pack of old stickers—remnants of your childhood—and placed one where the envelope met. You wrote the prison address provided on the website and added the stamps you’d bought during your walk, which was your final push into becoming a prison pen-pal. After selecting Sukuna Ryomen on the site and uploading your ID and other required documents, you waited for your profile to be approved.

After three days of waiting, you sent out the letter first thing in the morning and anxiously awaited a response.

Sukuna’s fists collided with the inmate’s face, each strike more brutal than the last. Blood splattered across his knuckles as the crowd of orange-clad convicts roared with twisted delight, their voices a chorus of vile encouragement. “Finish him!” they taunted, while others jeered at the barely conscious man, urging him to get up and fight back, to aim a desperate kick at Sukuna’s balls.

“Sukuna!” A guard’s voice cut through the chaos, and soon the officers were pushing through the throng, shutting the prisoners who dared resist their authority. “Get up, now!”

“Fuck off!” Sukuna snarled, his lips curling into a sneer as he shoved the guard aside. He watched with cold satisfaction as the man lay still, blood pooling beneath him. All this because the idiot had the nerve to laugh when Sukuna missed a three-pointer. Now, the bald bastard had paid the price for his arrogance, and Sukuna breathed in the aftermath—his own dark victory painted in blood and broken bones.

Officer Gojo Satoru strode into the circle, handcuffs gleaming in his hand.

Sukuna's eyes narrowed at the sight of the blue-eyed bastard, a wave of hatred surging through him so fierce he could almost feel his fingers tightening around Satoru's throat. The very thought of choking the life out of him fueled his dark desires.

Satoru’s father—the man responsible for dragging Sukuna down, catching him red-handed with crates of cocaine at the border, and sealing his fate with a fifty-year sentence. If Sukuna had known the old man’s spawn would end up as a deputy officer here, watching his every move with those piercing eyes, he would have never shown up to that cursed delivery. But no—he had wanted to play the good boss, personally seeing his precious cargo off. Now, every day behind bars was a constant reminder of that one fatal mistake, and Sukuna’s rage festered as he thought of the traitor, Yuji. The little fuck who sold him out would pay dearly, and Sukuna was already plotting the perfect revenge.

His own fucking nephew sold him off. Motherfucker wanted the throne for himself—an empire Sukuna built with his bare hands.

“Throw him in the ice box,” Satoru commanded, his voice dripping with that infuriating smugness. The officer roughly cuffed Sukuna’s wrists, shoving him forward. “Cool down, Big Guy. You’re not going any—”

Before he could finish, Sukuna rammed his forehead into Gojo’s nose, relishing the satisfying crunch as the lanky bastard staggered back. The inmates roared with approval from where they were restrained by the other officers.

Gojo chuckled, dabbing at his bleeding nose with a pristine handkerchief, the kind only a spoiled little bitch like him would carry. “You think that’s funny?” he asked, his tone laced with condescension.

“Hilarious,” Sukuna whispered, a dark grin curling at his lips.

“Okay,” Gojo replied with a casual shrug. Without warning, his fist slammed into Sukuna’s jaw.

Once.

Twice.

Three fucking times.

The officers stood by, indifferent, as their captain unleashed his fury. For them, it was just another case of self-defence.

Sukuna finally collapsed to the ground, his vision swimming. Gojo leaned over him, his voice a venomous hiss. “Who’s laughing now?” A final, vicious kick to Sukuna’s chest left him gasping for breath. “Keep him in that freezer until he’s begging to be let out. No meals for a week.”

Sukuna’s vision blurred as he glared at Satoru’s retreating figure, the ringing in his ears barely drowning out the disappointed murmurs of his fellow inmates. His body, battered and beaten, finally surrendered to the encroaching darkness.

When he came to, he found himself in the prison’s infirmary, cocooned in three heated blankets. Yet the warmth did little to pierce the deep, bone-chilling cold that gripped him. The need to piss gnawed at him, but even that seemed distant compared to the icy numbness that had taken hold.

“Welcome back to hell.”

Sukuna raised his head from the pillows to find Uraume, the prison’s doctor. They were also the only person he tolerated, and somewhat close to since he ended up in the infirmary more than once. He hoped they considered him a ‘something’ after he killed a two-hundred pound guy for groping their ass in the cafeteria. How did he do it? He knew Uraume kept a pocket knife in their doctor’s coat and quickly swept it out and stuck it in the dick’s jugular.

“How long have I been out for?” he asked, squirming his arm out of the blanket to rub his eyes.

“A day.”

“What?” Sukuna pulled himself out of the blanket by wiggling around like the fucking worms his cell mate Toji liked to collect every time they went in the courtyard to play. They’re better company than your grouchy ass, he said once. “How long was I in the ice box?”

“Barely an hour.” Well, that’s just pussy behaviour from him. “They pulled you out before hypothermia killed you. What a way to die, am I right?” They chuckled, preparing some pills in a small disposable cup. “Here, take these. They’re nutrients.”

“I could use actual food.” Sukuna downed them like a shot. God, he missed alcohol. “That blue-eyed bitch restricted my meals for a week.”

“Fuck him.” Uraume took out a sandwich from their bag and threw it in Sukuna’s direction. “Just fake illness when you’re hungry. I’m always here to feed my favourite dog.”

Sukuna snorted. “Go to hell.”

“Already here.” Uraume clipped back their white hair with the back dyed red. Like someone smashed their head into the wall and the colour just bled to the sides. “Oh, this came for you.”

Sukuna shoved the sandwich in his mouth and stretched his muscles before walking over, snatching the letter. It was already opened, a flimsy teddy-bear sticker hanging from the paper. “What the fuck is this?”

“A letter.”

“A letter? For me?”

Uraume broke their attention from the computer to look at him. “Remember when you had me register you on that prison pen-pal bullshit after Toji received a pile of fan letters?”

Sukuna blinked.

He definitely remembered being jealous when Toji got a letter from an artist who drew herself naked on paper for him, and a shit ton more asking for his dick size or when he’ll be out. Of course, Sukuna was envious of the attention. Plus, no one in prison made good company. He just wanted the taste of the outside world again after being locked in for five years now. Even if it was through ink on paper.

But then Sukuna looked down at his first ever letter torn open. “Why is this open? Who read it?” If it was Satoru, he was going to rip his eyeballs from his sockets and feed it to Toji’s pet worm.

“Relax. They’ve got to identify if there’s any substances attached to the paper, or any other shady shit. Whoever wrote to you is just a harmless nobody.”

Sukuna frowned, bringing the letter up to his nose. It smelled like a plain envelope. No drugs, nothing.

He found purchase on the bed again, pulling out the folded paper and ironing the creases out on his leg. Here we go.

He began reading each word carefully.

A week went by since you’d mailed your letter to Sukuna Ryomen. A week of pure torture to hear something back from the criminal. You’d relaxed on Sunday because the post offices are closed, but on Monday, you were at your mailbox, watching the mailman sort out letters and slip them through the boxes.

Once he left, you dashed to your box and flipped through the coupons, flyers, newsletters—

Your breath hitched.

Everything dropped from your hand except the cream envelope with an address from the prison. You didn’t care about reading it upstairs and quickly, yet carefully, tore it open from the side, reading the writing.

Trying to read it.

Sukuna had terrible handwriting. It made you giggle.

You leaned against the mailboxes and murmured the words written under your breath.

Hey, Y/N

I don’t know how to start a letter since I’ve never written one so don’t mind if I hurt your little feelings. Don’t know if you’re aiming to entertain me or bore me to death with this “dear diary” bullshit. I thought I’d get a nude, at the very least. Hell, Toji over here—yeah, the bastard who was on the news last year with a thing for setting houses on fire—gets way better fan mail every week. Pictures, drawings, mostly nudes. And I get your whining about rent and cockroaches?

Look, I may be locked up, but I’m giving you some advice here. Don’t fuck your landlord. You’ve got one eye? Good—use it. Hell, that’s already intimidating enough. Threaten the prick to call pest control, or better yet, trap those damn cockroaches and give him a taste. Stuff a few down his throat if he still doesn’t take you seriously. People respect action, not whining.

Speaking of. One eye? Really? Now, how’d it happen? Was it torn out? Still got some sight in it, or is it just gone? That’s gangster. Hot, even. I’d fuck a one-eyed chick. Maybe when I’m out we can cross that off my bucket list. Nah, I’m just playing with you.

Or maybe I’m not.

Think on it.

Hate (in a friendly way),

Sukuna.

P.S. Yeah, I took out some satanist scum who tried kidnapping one of my people’s kids. But don’t go thinking I’m in with those freaks. I’m just the Devil they wish they could be.

“Woah,” you breathed out, hugging the letter to your chest. This was it. This was what you were waiting for. A pull towards something real, something thrilling. It’s all you’ve been craving for eons now.

“Whatcha got there, sweetie?” The voice snapped you back, harsh as nails against glass. Your landlord had wandered out of his door on the first floor, wrapped in a faded bathrobe and gripping his mug like some king holding court. “Made a mess on my floor with your papers.”

“Sorry,” you muttered, quickly tucking Sukuna’s letter back into its envelope and reaching down to gather the stray papers scattered on the floor. When you straightened, he was already in your space, close enough that the coffee on his breath made you flinch.

“Excuse me—”

“You’re excused.” His smirk widened as he leaned in, his nose grazing your neck. The greasy warmth of his breath made bile rise to the back of your throat. “Just wanna take a little bite out of you.”

Sukuna’s advice echoed in your mind. You’d never—never—think of following through with his revolting insinuation. But letting this sleaze get away with treating you like this? No. Not anymore.

“Step away,” you commanded. “Now.”

He blinked, then chuckled, dismissive. “Feisty today, huh? Got a letter from your boyfriend in prison, sweetie?” How did he know that? Fuck. Did he go through your mail before it was deposited? “Let me guess—you think he’s got your back now?” He leaned even closer, the stench of his laugh wafting in the air. “Come on, where's that one eye of yours aiming, sweetheart?”

“Next person who mentions my eye eats the dirt,” you snapped, every ounce of your resolve boiling up. “And as for what I’ve got—it’s something way out of your league, old geezer. So get the hell back to your apartment, and call pest control now.”

For a second, he was stunned, face going pale as your words sank in. But you could feel Sukuna’s thrill, his twisted approval in the back of your mind. You’d tapped into something that wouldn’t settle. But then, “Well, I’ll be damned. Someone put on their big girl panties.”

Your jaw tightened as you held your ground, taking small breaths. You’d rehearsed this moment in your head, picturing a confrontation that ended with him backing down. But things never went as planned with him.

“I’m not here to beg,” you said evenly. “But I’m not gonna let you walk all over me, either. I pay rent. It’s your responsibility to keep this place livable.”

He snorted, raising his coffee mug and giving you a once-over that made your skin crawl.

“Not for free, sweetheart. You’ve gotta give me something worth my time.” His eyes travelled down your body.

Your pulse throbbed in your ears, but you squared your shoulders. “I’m already paying rent. It’s your right to ensure your tenant's safety.”

His face darkened, lips curling into a bitter smile. “Not when that tenant’s acting like a spoiled little bitch.” And then, with a flick of his wrist, he launched the mug’s contents right at you.

You dodged, but a few hot droplets scorched your arm, leaving a raw sting that only fueled your anger. He laughed, shaking his head with a mocking scowl. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I kick you out on the streets.”

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You turned on your heel, heading back upstairs with quick steps, forcing the tears back until you could lock the door behind you. Once inside, you slumped to the floor, breathing hard. The letter from Sukuna crackled beneath your hands, and you clutched it close to your chest, feeling the heat of humiliation turn into something fiercer, darker.

“Damn it,” you whispered to yourself, pushing back to your feet with renewed energy. You marched to your desk, grabbed your notebook and pen, and let the words pour out, hurried and jagged. If anyone would understand this kind of anger, it was him—the one man whose entire life was carved from rage.

And this time, you wouldn’t hold anything back.

“Letter for you, Ryomen.”

Sukuna dropped down from his top bunk, snatching the letter right out of the guard’s hand.

“From your girl?” Toji asked from across the table, flipping a card, halfway to beating Sukuna in Blackjack.

“Not my girl,” Sukuna grunted, tearing into the envelope. But still, he smirked as he unfolded your letter.

Hey, Sukuna.

Fuck my landlord to hell and back. I need you to know I’d kill him if I could get away with it. I’m trying to keep this “ethical” so they don’t cut off my letters, but let’s just, I hate the elderly. They should be rotting in retirement houses instead of owning properties and doing a shit job running them. That senile asshole threw hot coffee at me this morning. Burning. I nearly shattered the damn mug over his skull.

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his fingers squeezing the letter hard enough to crumple the edges.

And now he’s saying he’ll kick me out, as if I have anything to pay him with. This place is a dump, anyway. I might hit up one of those shelters for women, maybe hop from couch to couch for a bit. My job at corner store’s giving me scraps; it’s not nearly enough to get by. So yeah, you could say I’m screwed.

And to answer your question about my eye—yeah, I’m blind in it. Got it from a real piece of work I used to call a boyfriend. He decided my face was fair game, and thought I could just live with it. But he's dead now. Overdosed last I heard from his brother. Good riddance, am I right?

Oh, and for that kink of yours you mentioned—sending my picture along with a little extra treat.

Hate (because I’m about to go crazy here), Y/N

P.S. For all the things you’ve done, I can’t lie—the world you talk about sounds safer than this one. Well, except for you committing the most heinous crimes.

Toji clicked his tongue. “Look at that dumbass grin on your face.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sukuna muttered, flipping the letter over—and there it was: a stick drawing of a woman lying on a bed, two messy circles for her chest, legs spread wide, and what looked like . . . well, he didn’t need to guess. Sukuna went from grinning to outright laughing. “She’s hilarious.”

“Not just that. She’s sexy as fuck,” Toji said, holding up a photo, ripped clean in half.

Sukuna’s eyes flashed. He swiped the photo and pieced it back together, cursing himself for tearing through the envelope like a brute. But as the two halves reconnected, he felt his pulse kick up, hard.

“Well, shit.” You were more than just beautiful. The way your hair fell, the curves of your body wrapped in that short black dress, standing under a streetlamp with the city lights glinting around you . . . But it was the smile—the easy, teasing grin—that really did it for him. “I’m definitely jerking off tonight.” Respectfully, of course.

“Can we get back to the game now, or—”

“Fuck the game. I’ve got a letter to write.” And a plan brewing to get you out of that dump and right where he wanted you.

Your landlord was pronounced dead.

An ambulance had arrived early in the morning, around nine, waking up every tenant. You were one of them, groggy from your sleep, and all the crying you’d done from realising how high rent was these days.

Apparently, he had a heart-attack, said one of the residents.

He was eighty, said another.

You stuck to the back of the crowd as his body was wheeled out on the stretcher. How could he have died just five days after you sent your last letter to Sukuna? It couldn’t have been him, could it? Maybe one of his associates? Given the man’s extensive criminal history, you suspected he had some serious connections.

As the crowd began to disperse a few minutes later, you joined them but didn’t head upstairs. Instead, you made your way to the mailroom.

And luckily, Sukuna’s letter was present.

All he wrote was:

You’re welcome.

Neutral,

Sukuna.

You broke out laughing, or crying. Whatever it was, it felt good. So good.

Hey, Sukuna!

These days, I’m feeling calm. Really calm. I’m sleeping well, eating better, even starting to enjoy work. Sometimes, I’m scared it’ll all get snatched away. By who? I don’t know. Life’s been that way, though. I’ve lost so much—my parents, my friends, even my left eyesight. At one point, I lost my will to keep going. But I guess some part of me held on, believing a better day would come.

Turns out, those days are here. Who would’ve thought a felon could make me feel less alone? I know it sounds crazy, but my life’s been full of surprises lately.

If you think you can’t bring happiness to someone, I’m here to tell you you’re wrong. I’m genuinely happy, and it’s thanks to you. I already think of you as a friend—and I hope you think of me the same way. You don’t get a choice in that, by the way.

Love (genuinely), Y/N

P.S. I’d like to come visit you sometime soon.

Sukuna lowered the letter, his eyes settling on the wall where he’d pinned up your picture. “Toji?” he called out, still staring at the photo.

Toji paused mid-pushup, raising an eyebrow. “What, bitch?”

Sukuna let out a low laugh, barely shaking his head as he spoke. “I think I’m in love.”

Hello, Y/N.

When I’m out in fifty years, I’ll give you a real surprise. And don’t write me any more of that sentimental crap, alright? Save it for when you visit. I’d rather hear it in person.

Hate (but maybe not so much), Sukuna

P.S. You’re beautiful.

You pressed the letter to your chest, biting your lip as warmth spread across your cheeks, your face aching from how much you were smiling. It was official—you were falling for Sukuna Ryomen. You’d have to look your absolute best for your visit. Just the thought of seeing him, hearing his voice, maybe even feeling his hand brush yours, made your heart race. You’d kiss him if they’d let you. And if they didn’t? What could the guards do? Throw you in jail? Now that would be ironic.

But fifty years . . . Would you really wait fifty years for Sukuna to be released? How high was his bail, anyway, that even his hidden cash stash wasn’t enough to cover it? He had to have some kind of pull with the right people, didn’t he?

With a sigh, you grabbed a piece of paper and began to write your reply.

Sukuna,

Fifty years is a lifetime, don’t you think?

Love, Y/N

Sukuna read the short note you’d sent, surprised by how much you’d poured into just a few lines. He noticed small, faded dots on the paper—tears, unmistakably yours. You’d been crying, and it didn’t sit right with him. His stomach tightened, but thankfully, he’d already secured your visit through Uraume, who handled it while Gojo was away.

Now, all that was left was seeing you.

He wondered how he’d keep his hands to himself after all the nights he’d spent memorising your picture, losing himself in thoughts of you. Every night before sleep, every morning when he woke, every time Toji was out cold and couldn’t hear Sukuna’s barely-stifled groans as he imagined you were there. God, he wanted to steal you away.

The day of your visit finally came. Sukuna was led to the visitor room, wrists cuffed, flanked by two guards. He hadn’t set foot in this room since a couple of his associates had visited months back with updates on the family business and Yuji’s latest fiascos. They’d kept everything running despite his brother’s mess-ups, and Sukuna owed them.

He glanced down at his hands. Fifty years. He’d been scheming for a way out since he first set foot in here, but now, with you in the picture, the urge to escape was relentless. Bail was twenty million. Even if he could scrounge it up, he doubted he could get it done without tipping off the wrong people. No, his only real option was breaking out.

“Sukuna.”

A soft voice pulled his head up slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time his name was spoken with such warmth.

“Y/N.”

He shot up from his seat, his eyes flicking to the guards stationed in the corner before letting himself drink you in. You looked stunning—a soft sundress, hair delicately curled, makeup enhancing every curve and angle of your face. His gaze lingered on your eyes, marvelling at the contrast: one foggy, hazy, while the other was bright and striking. A smirk pulled at his mouth, but he softened it for you.

“Hey,” he whispered, the one word holding more emotion than he’d ever admit, especially with witnesses around.

“Hi,” you whispered back, eyes lowering down his muscled body, the pattern tattoos like rings around his wrist and with the first three buttons of his jumpsuit unbuttoned, you found the top of the rings on his pecs as well. His light-pink hair was brushed down, the tendrils poking his reddish-brown eyes. A peculiar colour. “Hi.”

He smiled. “You already said that, baby.”

Baby. Gosh, you were even more nervous now.

“They said I can’t shake your hand.” You looked at the cuffs on his wrists and tossed a glare at the guards. “Or hands.”

“Fuck them.” Sukuna sat down and you followed. “You’re stunning.”

You blushed. “Thank you.”

“Not gonna compliment me back?” His deep voice was cocky, smug. You loved it.

“You’re handsome and you know it.”

“I sure do.”

You chuckled and Sukuna watched you with a soft expression. “Thanks for . . . you know.”

He understood the words you mouthed and smiled. “A little Ricin never hurt anyone.”

“How did you pull it off?”

His eyebrow arched in surprise. “Just because I’m stuck in this hellhole doesn’t mean I’ve lost everyone’s respect out there. Blood is thicker than water in my clan—except when it comes to my nephew. I just want to drain it out of him.”

Your own smile faltered. “Well . . . I’d like to have coffee with you. But fifty years, Sukuna, is too long.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“Isn’t there any way to get you out?”

Sukuna saw the longing on your face and wanted nothing more than to hold it in his hands and stare at you for hours. He just couldn’t believe you were real. He would’ve killed you if you were cat-fishing him. “I really want to touch you,” he whispered instead. He did. He really fucking did.

You pinched your lips in a smile. “Me, too.”

Sukuna placed his hands on the table and grabbed both of yours. They were so soft and small. He wanted to kiss each finger. Knuckle. Vein.

“Hands off, Ryomen,” the guard warned. He didn’t relent, and simply winked at you. “I said hands off.”

“Fuck you,” Sukuna spat back.

“Visit’s over.” The pair of guards pried Sukuna away, making you reach out for him with a protest.

“I’ll see you this weekend.” Sukuna winked and let the guards drag him away.

You sat stunned before the officers escorted you out of the visiting room and apologised on his behalf.

When the weekend finally rolled around, you found yourself standing at the prison gates once more, entering alongside a pair of guards.

Waiting by the visitor room was a towering figure with straight silver hair and striking blue-eyes. You got a closer look at the badge—Satoru Gojo. You’ve read the name in one of Sukuna’s letters complaining about him.

“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise,” he greeted, waving away the guards and pressing a hand on your back, leading you down the opposite direction.

“We can chat another time, officer. I’ve got to meet Suku—”

“He can wait. Prison teaches a man patience. He’s got fifty more years left. Plenty to visit then.” Gojo opened the door and guided you inside. The shutting made your shoulders flinch. The lock clicking had dread pooling in your stomach. “Sit. Would you like anything to drink?”

You eyed the dark setting bathed in a golden light from a corner lamp. There was a cart with a decanter set and a mini-fridge to the right. A bookshelf and a wardrobe on the left. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Gojo shrugged and poured himself whiskey before taking his seat behind his table. You sat opposite him. “So, what’s your relationship with my favourite prisoner?”

You blinked. “Uh, we’re just pen-pals.”

“Lying to a police officer is a serious offence.”

“I’m telling the truth,” you said. “We’re strictly pen-pals.”

“I’ve read your letters to know that isn’t true, Princess. So unless you want to sit there and lie to my fucking face, I suggest you start using that mouth for good and tell me the goddamn truth.” He slammed his glass down, but his face remained smiling with false politeness.

You felt suffocated in the office, eyes darting left and right for anything sharp in case he tried some other method to get you to talk.

“I’ve been in this field for a decade now to know when someone is hiding something from me,” Gojo continued, taking a leisure sip from his drink. “I have a file on you, Y/N. You’re an only child, with no proper education or a stable job. You’re one bad decision away from being trafficked. You’re submissive, a follower, who if went missing, no one would look for.” Tears welled your eyes at his words. “And I know that bastard’s the reason you’re still living in that dump you call home.”

That was the last nail in the coffin.

“I’ve been following you since your first letter,” he said quietly. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to? Oh, Princess, you couldn’t be any more wrong.” He stood up and rounded his way to you.

You quickly scrambled out of your seat. “Please. I don’t know anything. I—I don’t—Sukuna’s a friend, yes, but I’m not involved in any of his criminal activities.”

“Friend?” Gojo spat out. “That man is the last person you’d ever want as your friend.” He stalked forward and you retracted. “He’s committed more crimes in his lifetime than any other man. He’s killed half the people in this country, extorted money from politicians, burned down houses for fun, and killed my father!” He grabbed the collars of your dress and slammed you back into his wardrobe door. A cry ripped from your throat. “And you, a nobody, has the audacity to call that fucker a friend? Sweetheart, you’re just a ploy, a pawn, a time-pass for him. A hole to warm his cock in.” A sardonic chuckle. “That’ll never happen since he isn’t getting out anytime soon. But, hey, maybe I can prepare you for him.”

Your breath quickened, a whimper slipping past your lips. “How does that make you any better than him?”

Gojo smiled and brushed his lips over your ears. “Because I have the power to get away with it.”

Your eyes, frightened and flickering, dragged up to his blue-ones.

In the blink of an eye, you slapped him across the face, taking him by complete surprise and broke free from his hands. He leaped towards you as you unlocked the door and ran out and down the hall, shouting for help.

A pair of officers turned the corner.

“Help, please!” You fell into the arms of one of them. “Please, he’s going to hurt me!”

“Who?” one asked with concern.

“Satoru Gojo!”

They exchanged a look and briskly turned away, leaving you standing. Their spines straightened as Gojo walked down the hallway, flattening a hand down his chest. The duo saluted him and walked away with their heads down.

Your heart sank.

You had no power here.

“I told you, Princess,” Gojo purred, prowling towards you, “this is my domain.”

You cried out and ran towards the visitor’s room. The door knob was locked and could only be opened with a keycard. “Help!” You slammed your palms on the surface. “Please, someone! Help—ah!”

Gojo gripped the back of your hair and pulled you from the door. “Perfect timing, actually. I’d like to see the look on Ryomen’s face before I split his woman on my cock.” He swiped the card and opened the door, pushing you inside but controlling you with the grip he had on your head.

Sukuna was already standing and enraged, held back by two guards who struggled. He must’ve heard your helpless cries. You wish he didn’t have to. “Let her go, Gojo!”

“Oh, I will,” said Gojo, “as soon as I’m done with her.”

Sukuna growled, thrashing against his restraints. “You fucking prick, I’m gonna tear you in half if you touch her!”

“Like this?” Gojo squeezed your left breast and laughed.

Sukuna elbowed one of the guards in his nose, momentarily seeking freedom to hit the other. Hope blossomed in your chest as he fought them off and made his way towards you.

Gojo chuckled and pulled out his gun, shooting Sukuna in the leg. You jumped with a scream as he fell to the floor, clutching his thigh. “All this chaos for a common whore,” he muttered. “Come on, Princess. Let’s put you to good use.”

“No, please!” You shouted as he dragged you away. “Sukuna, no! Sukuna!”

“Y/N.” Sukuna reached his arm out, his hand curling into a fist and falling defeatedly onto the floor. “Don’t hurt her, please.” His face was squeezed in pain, as the guards kept him pinned to the floor. “Please! Don’t fucking hurt her—”

The door closed shut, and the last sight before your eyes was Sukuna crying.

Sukuna hadn’t heard from you in over a month.

He’d also spend the month in the infirmary after Uraume did an extensive surgery on his leg. It hadn’t hit a vital artery. He believed Satoru’s aim was calculated to keep him alive. To continue letting him suffer.

Sukuna also went quiet. He hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone except murmuring to himself. He read back on your letters, slept with the papers under his pillow, if he slept at all.

Every morning, afternoon, night, in and out of his dry sleep, he was plotting a way to get out of this hell and find you. Would you even want to see him? Would you even care? Were you even alive? He’d dragged you into his mess, put you in danger, and fell into Satoru’s disgusting trap.

“You need to eat something, Sukuna,” Uraume advised as they have been since his injury. They placed the tray in front of him. “At least eat the yogurt.”

Were you eating? Were you still living in his house? Were you alive? That question rang in his head again.

“For fucks sake.” Uraume brought forth a stool and sat next to his bed, staring at the side of his face. “What the hell do you want to do?”

He wanted to kill Satoru first. Then escape with Toji since he was the only bastard he trusted in this place. Then find you and run away from the law as far as possible. It was a simple plan that required efficiency.

“Are you gonna talk—”

Sukuna shoved the tray aside, the food falling onto the floor. He was irritated by the questions outside and inside of his head. “I need to find her,” he mumbled to himself. “I need to know if she’s alive.” Please, baby, please be alive.

“Everything all right in here, doc?” One of the guards stationed outside the door asked with his head peering through the door.

Sukuna stared at him, then went back to Uraume. They met his eyes with their blank stare. They scanned down his body, to his injured leg, then back to his head.

A sigh left them. “No,” they replied. “Do you mind helping me clean up the mess?”

Sukuna gritted his jaw as the guard walked in, closing the door and crouching down, grumbling curses at Sukuna. Uraume stood from their stool and made their way to the cabinet, pulling out a syringe and a small vial.

Sukuna's eyes lightened, spine straightening. A smile curved at his lip as they flicked the droplets from the tip of the injection and walked over, making small-talk about the weather.

Suddenly, Uraume jabbed the needle into the officer’s neck and pushed down the plunger. He fell to his side, clutching his neck and staring up at them as they shrugged. Sukuna watched with pure delight as his body began to convulse, foam gathering at this mouth and dripping from the side.

Then he stopped.

“He’s dead,” Uraume said before Sukuna could ask. “Works the night shift so you won’t have a problem running into anyone else. Change into his clothes. I’ll drive.” They walked away to grab a face mask.

“Why?” asked Sukuna.

Uraume sighed, head dropping. “Because I fucking hate it here.”

Sukuna was definitely going to hire them once he killed his Gojo, and his nephew.

He quickly changed into the officer’s clothes, giving him a hard kick in the stomach that had Uraume rolling their eyes.

Sukuna followed behind as they led the way. “Let’s take Toji.”

“Why?” they asked. “That’s a hassle.”

“Just feel bad.”

“And when did you start feeling guilt?” Uraume easily slipped past the security gate, waving to the officer who was busy on his phone.

“I don’t know,” he said, smiling because he knew. Sure, you’d only touched him once, but your letters were what truly began to change him. Just the other day, he’d lost a round of blackjack, stacking his debt to Toji by a million, and instead of knocking the guy out cold, Sukuna shook hands and called it a ‘good game.’ “On second thought, let’s leave him here for the time being.” Until he got his money in check.

Once they settled into Uraume’s car, Sukuna quickly discarded the officer's cap, tie, and badges. Uraume entered your address from the letters, and they drove in silence for the next thirty minutes.

When they arrived, the building matched your description: shitty.

Uraume stopped Sukuna before he could leap out of the car. They scanned the street for any signs of police presence. “Go. I’ll wait here.”

Sukuna nodded and dashed out of the car, walking inside the apartment. There was no buzzer system, which meant anyone could stroll in, armed and dangerous. This was a problem. He needed to get you out of here and into one of his safe houses—a hidden place even his bastard nephew didn’t know about.

He hurried up the emergency stairwell to the tenth floor, slightly winded by the time he reached door 1090.

This was it.

With his hands gripping the edges of the door, he hunched forward, heart racing. Please, be alive.

Finally, he knocked.

He chewed the shit out of his bottom lip, hissing impatiently through his teeth. “Come on, Y/N.” He knocked again, his impatience boiling over. “It’s me, Sukuna! Please, open the door.” He pounded harder, fear creeping in with each passing second. The Sukuna Ryomen was . . . scared. “Goddammit!”

“Sukuna . . .?”

He halted mid-breakdown and turned slowly, his heart dropping at the sight of you standing there with two bags of groceries. You looked so fragile, your complexion pale, and the radiance he remembered from your visit had completely vanished.

The grocery bags slipped from your hands and fell to the ground.

In an instant, you both rushed toward each other, and he lifted you off the ground effortlessly. You wrapped your arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably as he buried his hand in the back of your hair, inhaling the comforting scent of your body wash.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered. “It’s okay, I’m here.” His eyes were directed straight ahead, and he was shaking. Terribly. “I’m here, sweetheart.”

You pulled back, cradling his face in your small hands. Gently, you brushed aside his dark, mink-like hair, tracing the tattoos on his skin with your fingertips. “You’re alive,” you whispered, overwhelmed by relief. You couldn’t help but touch him, and he simply smiled, allowing you the closeness. “God, you’re alive. Sukuna—you’re really alive. How?”

“Of course, I am. I just needed to know you were alive,” he replied, his hands enveloping your cheeks. “Where did you go? Why did you stop writing to me?”

Your face went blank. “What do you mean?”

“Your letters. You stopped writing to me.”

“They . . .” Your voice cracked. “They told me you were sentenced to death.”

He was taken back. “What the fuck?”

Realisation dawned upon you. The second time you visited Sukuna, Satoru had literally dragged you out of the station, kicking you out the doors. He’d threatened to take you to his office next time, but since he had a meeting with officials that day, he’d reluctantly let you go. That didn’t stop you from sending countless letters, pouring your heart out until, two weeks later, you finally received a notification from the police station. Sukuna had been sentenced to death by lethal injection and was no longer alive. You’d cried for days on end. You imagined he had been cremated and reduced to ashes, stored away somewhere. The thought shattered you. For an entire month, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave your house.

Until tonight.

And he was here. Sukuna was here. He was alive.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing the area below your sightless eye. “Let’s head inside, alright?”

You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his wrist. He held your hand tightly while using his other arm to carry your grocery bags. Once you reached your apartment, you opened the door and locked it securely. The deadbolt you had installed was a precaution against Satoru, just in case he showed up.

“I’m so happy you’re al—”

Sukuna kissed you before the words could leave your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning from the taste of his lips, the taste you’d been craving for months now. He didn’t allow you to breathe, didn’t pull away. You both stood there in the alcove, kissing for minutes, clinging to each other. He cupped the back of your head and drew apart from your lips, peppering kisses over your face, especially your foggy eye.

“I don’t want to fuck you, baby,” he whispered in your ear. “I want to make love to you. For hours.” Your grip tightened in his shirt. “Then I need you to pack everything in a bag and run away with me.”

“Run away?” You searched his dark-reddish eyes. “Run away where?”

His knuckles grazed your wet cheek. “Somewhere not even God can find us.”

You swallowed hard. “They’ll send out a manhunt, Sukuna. What if we get caught? What if they take you—”

He cut you off with a kiss. “No one is going to take me away from you. Do you get that?” His strong fingers moved through your hair. “I’d turn this world to dust before that happens.”

Your insides melted from the threat. “Take me,” you murmured over his lips. He kissed you. “Take me everywhere, anywhere, wherever, as long as it’s with you.”

Sukuna lifted you effortlessly, carrying you like a bride as he kicked open your bedroom door. He set you down on the bed, then began stripping off his clothes, revealing the geometric tattoos that marked his thighs and torso. You were caught off guard by how quickly he moved, fumbling to take off your sweater and jeans. By the time you looked back at him, he was already naked, and your gaze dropped to what you could only describe as a gloriously, long erection.

“Woah,” you whispered, feeling your mouth go dry. “You’re abnormally big.”

“You can take it.” He leaned over you, tearing your panties without a second thought. Before you could protest about them being your favorite pair, he spread your legs and went down on you. “Oh, my god—Sukuna—wait—”

“Waited too long,” he growled, his mouth finding your clit as he buried his nose between your wet folds. He nipped, licked, and bit, his tongue plunging deep into you, creating messy sounds that filled the air. You couldn't form words or catch your breath, gripping the roots of his hair tightly.

When you came like a flood, Sukuna lifted your hips, making sure not a single drop of you was lost to the sheets. He let out loud, deep moans as he sloppily lapped at your sensitive cunt.

He wiped his glistening mouth with his fingers and then pressed them against your lips. You eagerly sucked on his warm, thick digits, noting the lustrous glint in his eyes. He pulled his fingers out abruptly. “Suck my cock.”

Suck his what?

You looked down and saw him leaking at the tip. You clenched your legs, unsure. He wanted you to take that into your mouth?

You licked your lips, managing to kneel while he stood before you. He took hold of himself, rubbing the tip against your lips. You instinctively flicked your tongue out to taste him, causing him to flinch. “Sorry—”

“Don’t apologize.” He seemed to enjoy it. “Just take it in your mouth.”

You nodded, wrapping your fingers around his hot, veiny length. You opened your jaw as wide as you could and slowly took him in. His head fell back, and he engulfed your face with his palms. Your performance was mediocre, and yet he was entertained.

His tip pressed against the back of your throat, making you pull back to cough. He laughed softly, brushing your cheek with his hand.

“Come on, baby. You need to get used to it.”

“I’ve never done this before,” you replied, your voice shaky as you reached for him again.

“Stick your tongue out.”

You took a deep breath and extended your tongue. He rested the head of his cock on it and started to move his hips slowly.

Slowly, you took him in, feeling his satisfaction as he gently rocked his hips back and forth. He tasted warm and a little salty, and you found your hand wandering between your legs, seeking some relief.

“I’m going to pick up the pace, alright, baby?”

You nodded in response.

“Don’t be embarrassed if you choke,” he said, hooking a stray lock behind your ear. “It’ll just make me come faster.”

With that, he thrust deeper, and you gripped his hips tightly, struggling to catch your breath. He noticed and pulled back slightly to give you a moment, but it was brief before he pushed back in again. “You’re taking me so well, baby. Fuck.” His movements became more feverish, and you felt the pressure building as you choked and gagged, saliva escaping at the corners of your mouth. “Fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come down your throat.”

You tapped his leg, shaking your head.

“No?” He smirked. “You don’t want me to come down your throat?”

You shook your head again and pointed between your legs.

In an instant, Sukuna pulled out. He flipped you onto your chest, lifting your ass up in the air. Without a second thought, he thrust himself deep inside you, and you cried out his name into the pillow.

He felt so full, so thick, pushing into you with a force that made your breath hitch. It was everything you needed—so good, so fucking good. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned. He filled you completely, driving into you with a fast rhythm that left you moaning, completely lost in the pleasure.

Your nails clawed at the sheets as his thick tip pressed against your womb, punctuated by the stinging slaps of his hands against your ass. He showered you with a blend of sweet and dirty words—“good fucking girl,” “cock slut,” “so perfect and tight,” “little whore”—and you pushed back, needing him deeper and deeper.

Sukuna released a torrent of warm cum inside you, still driving his hips against you, holding you securely by the waist. The sensation sent waves of pleasure through you, and he pulled out, flipping you onto your back. He bent your knees, driving himself back inside without hesitation. How was he still so hard?

Your hands cupped his flushed, beautiful face, a lazy smile stretching across both your lips. Sukuna leaned in, kissing you deeply before trailing his lips down to your neck while his hand found its way to your breast. “I’m not on birth control anymore, you know?”

“Good.” He pulled back to meet your gaze. “And don’t even think about getting back on it.”

“But we can’t afford the risk, Suku—”

“I love you,” he said, his grip firm on your jaw. Everything inside you exploded. “I love you, baby. I love you so fucking much that I’ll take every fucking risk.”

You moaned softly as he came again, your trembling fingers brushing against his lips. “I love you, too.” He kissed your fingertips, a promise in every touch. “I’ll take every risk with you.”

“Fuck yeah you will.” He didn’t pull out, his eyes locked on yours. “Starting with putting a baby in you.”

You happily accepted your fate.

Sukuna pulled the trigger, shooting another police officer in the back of his head. The sound of the gunfire mixed with the blaring sirens, echoing through the flickering lights of the corridors—a devious melody composed just for him. He chuckled low, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a grin as another officer lunged out, attempting to stop him—pathetic. A single shot rang out, and the man crumpled like paper.

The path to Satoru’s office was a long one, and the bodies he left sprawled out in his wake were only a brief distraction from the task at hand. He had things to do today, after all.

Another officer stumbled into view, eyes wide, panic evident. He didn’t stand a chance. Sukuna barely glanced at him as he fired, stepping over the man as he slumped against the wall. Blood splattered his shoes, but it was hardly the worst stain on his day.

You were going to be pissed. He could practically hear the biting tone, the disappointed scowl that’d meet him the moment he finally made it to Mai’s first birthday party. Sukuna scoffed as he shot a bullet straight through a door that dared open near him, knocking down yet another obstacle.

But this was necessary. He needed to do this.

Free Toji. Kill Gojo. And then, eventually, deal with his meddling nephew. Everything would finally align, and maybe—just maybe—he could stop all this. For you. For your daughter.

Satoru’s office was close now. He could smell the antiseptic scent of the door, the false air of authority that seemed to reek from it. He cocked his gun, steeling himself. Because when he was done here—when he’d finally finished what he’d started—he’d make it up to you.

Or so he told himself, as another officer charged and met the floor with a hole in his skull.

Sukuna didn’t bother with the doorknob. He slammed his boot into the door, sending it splintering inward with a loud crack. The office was stripped bare; Satoru’s usual pile of clutter, the irritating stench of his cologne—gone. Only the dust of where things once sat remained on the shelves and desk.

The bastard had fled.

Sukuna’s jaw clenched as he surveyed the room. Gojo knew he was coming and had bolted like a coward hours ago. He pulled his lighter from his pocket, flipping it open with a flick of his thumb, the small flame dancing aglow. Without a second thought, he stepped to the heavy, pretentious curtains Gojo insisted on, pressing the flame to the thick fabric. It caught quickly, embers licking up and curling black around the edges as the fire took hold, consuming Satoru’s last pathetic hold on this place.

He turned and walked out, ignoring the smoke that was already billowing into the hall. The prison alarm was still blaring, red lights flashing down the cold corridors as he made his way to the cells. Every so often, he’d pause, assessing the prisoner cowering behind bars. Rapists, pedophiles, molesters, abusers, killers of innocent lives—he moved on from them. But when he found those who didn’t quite repulse him, he took a single shot at their lock, releasing them in a stream of confused, wary freedom.

As he approached the far end of the corridor, a familiar sight greeted him—his old cell. And standing behind those hard, metal bars, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, was Toji.

“Didn’t think you’d come back to this hellhole,” Toji remarked.

“Not for long,” Sukuna replied, levelling his gun at the lock. He fired once, the lock shattering as the cell door swung open.

Toji stepped out of his cell, took one look around, then paused. “Hold up.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, watching as the man crouched beside a loose brick in the wall. With a wry smile, he pulled out an old, scratched-up plastic bottle with a wriggling, sickly-looking worm inside. He tapped the side of the bottle, making the creature twist and writhe. “Almost forgot my little friend here.”

Sukuna barked a short laugh. “You’re out of your damn mind.”

Alarms blared louder as they navigated the winding corridors and ran past prisoners surging toward freedom. Some guards tried to block the path, but they were quickly swept aside by Sukuna’s bullets and Toji’s fists. By the time they hit the outer gates, the entire prison was pandemonium, prisoners scattering into the open like ants from a burning nest.

Outside, a sleek, black car idled just past the gate. Uraume sat coolly behind the wheel, watching the stampede of convicts with bored detachment. As they approached, Uraume rolled down the window, glancing at them with their nose slightly crinkled.

“I could smell you two from a mile away,” they said dryly, eyes flicking to the stains of blood on their clothes. “Maybe next time, schedule a prison massacre that doesn’t fall on your daughter’s birthday?”

“Just drive,” Sukuna replied, sliding into the backseat with Toji following. Toji glanced at Uraume with a quick nod, still keeping a light hold on his bottle, the worm twisting inside.

“Welcome back to the real world, Fushiguro,” they said, starting the car as they drove off into the night.

The road stretched long and dark, winding into the depths of a thick forest. The further they drove, the thicker the trees became, their branches curving overhead to cast everything in shadows. The road narrowed into a rugged trail, overgrown and wild. Uraume navigated it deftly, until at last, the forest opened up, and they could see the soft glimmer of moonlight on the water beyond.

Perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean stood their safe house—a dark brick estate against the endless stretch of water. Waves crashed against the rocks far below, the scent of salt and sea heavy in the air.

Sukuna looked at the house, then at Toji’s surprised face.

“This is where you’ve been hiding for the two years?” he asked as soon as they were out of the car.

“Not for long if I fuck this up.” Sukuna slipped in through the garage, keeping his steps light. He had just one goal at this moment: reach the shower before you spotted the blood streaked on his clothes and the smell of gunpowder clinging to him.

But as he shut the door, there you were, arms crossed, eyes sharp as they landed on him.

“Sukuna,” you started, an edge in your tone that he recognized all too well. “Do you have any idea what day it is? Look at you; you're a mess!” You gestured at the dark stains on his shirt and his unmistakable smirk.

Instead of trying to dodge the lecture, he listened, that faint smile tugging at his lips as he watched you, soaking in each scolding word. You were the one person who never held back with him, and it made something dangerous in him soften, something in him settle. “I know, baby,” he replied, pecking your cheek. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Barely,” you replied, sighing, though you couldn’t quite hide the relief in your voice. You glanced over his shoulder. “Toji, Uraume—it’s good to see you both.”

Uraume gave a slight bow, a wry smile still tugging at their lips, while Toji just gave you a quick nod.

You waved a hand, turning back to the kitchen. “Both of you boys—shower, now. I won’t have the two of you smelling like a prison while I’m trying to decorate my daughter’s cake. Go on!”

Toji gave Sukuna a knowing look and shrugged, as if to say, She’s right. Sukuna shot him a warning look, then followed up the stairs, chuckling under his breath as he imagined how you’d cornered him like this.

Fifteen minutes later, he stepped out of the shower, cleaned up, feeling far lighter as he tugged on a fresh shirt and came downstairs, catching the scent of the dinner you’d prepared.

He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile that melted your anger as he pulled you close.

“Gojo got away,” he murmured. “He knew I was coming, and he ran like the coward he is. But I’ll find him. And I’ll make him pay for what he did to you. I swear it.”

You paused, looking up into his eyes, your hand settling on his cheek. “I know you will, Sukuna. But don’t miss the important things here. We’re what’s important now, not just revenge.”

The words took root in him, grounding him, but that flicker of rage still danced in his eyes. He pulled you close, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ll never let him touch us again. I promise you that.”

Just as you leaned in for another kiss, Sukuna heard the faint sound of your daughter stirring awake from her nap on the living room floor. Mai’s soft little whimpers broke the room’s quiet. Instinctively, he abandoned your kiss, his attention snapping to her as he practically floated over to where she was squirming in her pink dress, rubbing her tiny fists over her eyes.

“There’s my girl,” he murmured, scooping her up with all the gentleness he could muster. Her sleepy eyes blinked open, and he was rewarded with that toothy little grin she’d recently mastered, one that brought an uncharacteristic softness to his entire face. He pressed a cascade of kisses on her cheeks, nose, forehead—anywhere he could reach. “Look at you, sweetheart. All dressed up for your birthday, huh? The prettiest girl in the world.”

You laughed softly from the kitchen, watching as Sukuna held her close, stepping into an impromptu waltz around the living room, his steps surprisingly skilled. She squealed in delight, her small hands reaching up to his face as he spun her around. Even Toji, who had just come down from the shower, stopped in his tracks at the sight, a rare, amused smile tugging at his mouth.

Sukuna glanced up, catching Toji’s presence, and with a proud smirk said, “Toji, meet my daughter, Mai. She’s already got more spirit than most of the people you and I have met.”

Toji stepped forward, studying your daughter. He reached out a hand, and she looked at him with wide eyes, inspecting him with her natural, innocent curiosity. “She looks like trouble. Must take after her old man.”

“Her mother, mostly,” Sukuna said in your direction, bouncing her lightly. “She’s going to have a whole world to handle, with us around.”

In the background, Uraume was setting the table, their usual precision in each movement. They threw Sukuna a blank look, brushing off their hands. “Now that the table’s set, if you’d all just take your seats, maybe we can have a peaceful birthday dinner without the talk of blood and violence for once.”

Sukuna chuckled, shooting them a dry look before turning back to his daughter. Holding Mai close, he took a seat at the head of the table with you beside him. He looked around, taking in the sight—the cake you’d just set down, the quiet chatter as Uraume and Toji exchanged comments, and his daughter babbling in his lap, still pawing at his face with sticky fingers.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt peace.

The “Happy Birthday” song had been sung, candles blown out, cake shared, and Toji had crashed in the guest room, completely knocked out. Uraume, too, was resting in another room, finally allowing herself a few hours of sleep.

In your bed, the soft rise and fall of your daughter’s tiny breaths filled the space between you and Sukuna. She slept peacefully between you both, tiny fingers curled into fists as she dreamed. But you and Sukuna were both wide awake, eyes locked on each other in the moonlight. His hand drifted up, fingertips brushing your cheek.

“Do you remember my first letter?” you asked.

A smirk began at his lips. “You mean the diary entry about the cockroaches in your kitchen and how you thought seducing your landlord was a better solution than paying rent?”

You laughed, covering your mouth to keep quiet, not wanting to wake your baby. He loved that laugh—the way it sounded like music only he got to hear.

“Or how no one with one functioning eye could ever be taken seriously romantically,” he added. “Debunked, by the way.”

Your laugh softened, and you looked at him with a smile that held a thousand memories. “Do you remember the last thing I wrote?”

“The part about Satanism?”

You laughed again, the sound bubbling up and melting into the dark. And as he listened, he couldn’t help but chuckle alongside, his thumb tracing along your cheek, taking in the moment like he was trying to memorise it.

You took a breath, glancing down before meeting his eyes again. “I said I was lonely as hell, remember?” Sadness wove into your words. “And . . . I was. Back then, I thought no one could ever really understand me. Until you did.”

Sukuna shook his head. “You were never meant to be alone, baby,” he murmured. “Not then, not ever. Not while I’m here.”

You swallowed, heart catching as you looked at the life you’d built, the fragile happiness that now lay nestled between you both. “I’m just . . . scared sometimes,” you admitted. “I’m scared of losing this. Of losing you. I don’t know if I could protect what we have.”

“We’ll protect it together,” Sukuna affirmed. “Nothing will take this from us. Not while I’m still breathing.” He leaned forward, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was deep, reassuring, exactly like the one he’d give you when you’d sealed your vows. When he pulled back, you met his eyes, a soft smile tugging at your mouth.

“I love you, Sukuna,” you whispered, fingers brushing his sharp jaw. “Genuinely, your wife.”

He took them and gave a kiss to the tips. “And I love you most, baby. Genuinely, your husband.”

Moments later, your eyes drifted shut, your breathing evening out as you finally slipped into sleep. But Sukuna stayed awake, his gaze never leaving you, or your daughter.

This was the family he’d fought and bled for, the life he’d killed to create. And yet, an unsettling undercurrent of unfinished business tugged at his nerves. But tonight, he forced it away, just for a while.

For now, there was no room for anything but the second chance he’d been given.

Genuinely, by you.

1K notes · View notes

miabebe · 1 month ago

Text

Calendar Killer (HJS)

Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it didn't care whether it was the red of love and the red of blood?

Pairing - Afab!reader x Detective! Hong Jisoo (Joshua)

Word count - 14K (we are back to Mia's inability to be concise)

Genre - Psych thriller, smut (18+), supernatural elements hinted, warnings under the cut!

A/n - This is the last installment of my 95s psych thriller Halloween series - I know its late but I just wanted to finish up what I committed to. Also, this is the wildest thing I have ever written, I'm not kidding, buckle up! I do suggest reading Jeonghan's and Cheol's before this!

Thank you to Lola ❤️ @monamipencil, the love of my life for beta reading this and filling our chat with 'oh my god's and frantic comments - I'm a lot more pleased with this piece now hehe

Warnings - Please note that this fic is dark, not morally appropriate at all and as psychotic as it gets. With that being said, let's goooo - people missing, mentions of deaths, bodies, murders, serial killer, mentions of stalking, choking, blowjobs, throat fucking, hair pulling, cum in mouth, masturbation, manhandling, unprotected sex, rough sex, marking, slight dubcon, creampie, psycho thoughts and behaviour

The station buzzed with the oppressive hum of a fluorescent light, flickering occasionally. The air was thick with the musty scent of old paper, the subtle clicking of the typewriter and cold winds blowing in through the open door.

“Great job today boss.”

Joshua looked up from the paperwork strewn across his desk at Minho standing by the coffee machine, a mug in hand. the dark circles stark under his eyes. It had been a sleepless few weeks for everyone in his team and nights at the station were only getting longer and longer.

Giving a tired nod of acknowledgement, Joshua turned his attention to what he liked to call his ‘murder board’. Wrong choice of name yes, but someone once told him that positive manifestation was a real thing. Maybe if he kept calling it a ‘murder board’ for long enough, one day he’d finally find himself climbing the ranks, handling real murder cases. He knew with just a little more power in his hands, he could be brilliant - he was a good detective, he had great intuition, he was sharp, efficient. Oh he’d make a fantastic sergeant or maybe even a lieutenant but instead, here he was, sitting in a tiny cubicle, the pages of his case files scattered across his desk, each one heavy with unanswered questions.

Six missing persons cases. That’s what Joshua was stuck on now.

Given his brilliance, it normally didn’t take more than a week for him to crack a case but these? These cases had turned into a three-month-long nightmare of frustration - endless hours of interrogation, dead end leads and constant running in circles. What bothered Joshua the most was that he had spent five years in the field, aced every exam, and most importantly, the sergeant position had been vacant for two months—ever since Hye Jin left for maternity leave. And yet, here he was, stuck in this cubicle, staring at the empty faces on case files, with no promotion in sight. How could he ever climb the ranks with these six cases making him look like an undeserving amateur?

One miracle—that’s all he needed. Six miracles, really. One clue per case, just a single point he had missed, one thing he might have overlooked. Shutting his eyes and leaning back in his chair, he sighed, wondering where on Earth he should look for answers. If only they walked into the station, looking for him.

And then, you did.

The creak of the door was what made Joshua’s eyes flicker up, following you as you stepped into the precinct. You were wet from head to toe, hair sticking to your face and neck, your knee-length white nightgown clinging to your body as if you’d been caught in a downpour.

Joshua glanced outside.

The sky was gray and heavy, but it was not raining.

He frowned, rising from his chair. “Can I help you?”

You didn’t speak right away, your eyes darting around the room, searching for something. Joshua’s instincts flickered to life. Something was off, not in a way that screamed danger. Just… unsettling.

Water dripped all over the floor as you walked barefoot, struggling to take steps, shaking eyes, trembling lips and bruised knees accompanying you. Hand hovering over his pager, Joshua’s gaze shifted to his team, who were quietly filling the room, all of them sensing the shift in the air.

“Are you okay?” He took a tentative step toward you, searching for answers on your face when you refused to meet his eyes. Instead they kept darting nervously over your shoulder and towards the door as though someone was about to follow you in.

Joshua frowned at the entrance. “Is someone else coming-”

“Don’t look.” You whispered, grabbing his hands, skin cold and grip tight. “I need help.”

With a single gesture, Joshua had his team pull up a chair for you as he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around your trembling shoulders before gently guiding you to sit. The air around you hummed, almost electric, as if something unknown was lingering.

Stepping back, Joshua leaned against his desk. “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, glancing nervously around the room. When you finally met his eyes, Joshua softened his expression, silently urging you to speak.

“Talk to me.”

“I.. I’m..” You muttered, your hands nervously fiddling with the fabric of your nightgown. “I’m being followed.”

Joshua's brow furrowed, and he exchanged a glance with his team who immediately began heading towards the door. But you shook your head, fear evident in your voice. “They’re already here. In the precinct.”

“What do you mean?” He studied the room, his mind racing as everyone began frantically looking around, more alert than ever. “No one came in after you-”

“Y-you can’t see them.” You raised your head, looking directly over Joshua’s shoulder, gulping. “.....Only I can.”

Joshua followed your line of vision, his eyes finding the empty corner of the room. What on earth were you looking at?

“I don’t understand, Miss…?”

“Y/n,” Your voice was steady despite the fear in your eyes.

“Miss Y/n.” Joshua hesitated but still squatted in front of you, his eyes level with yours. “I’m here to help. You have to tell me exactly what’s happening..”

Taking a shaky breath, you pulled the jacket closer to your body. “It started a week ago, I was coming back from the supermarket and there was a woman, standing right at the edge of the street.”

“Was she someone you knew?”

You shook your head. “I could sense her following me all the way home so I made sure to close the door as soon as I stepped inside but when I went into the kitchen…. ..she was already there.“

Joshua’s jaw tightened as he listened, watching you gulp the phantom lump in your throat.

“I grabbed a knife and ran out, screaming for help, but when I brought my neighbor in… there was no one. It was like she vanished…. disappeared, into thin air.”

Joshua’s brows furrowed. “She ran off before you got back?”

You didn’t answer the question, simply continued.

“Then the next day she was there again, but this time with three others. It was too early in the morning, the street was empty, I-I couldn't even ask anyone for help. When I entered the house I locked myself in again, but when I went into the kitchen…” You let out a shaky breath. “They were already inside. And just like before, when I tried to get help… they disappeared.”

Joshua leaned forward, concerned.

“The third day there were more of them, but this time I ran back to the store to get the cashier or the other townspeople to help me but no one could see them….. even though there were, standing right there, at the door, no one could see them.”

The room grew tense as Joshua exchanged looks with his team. What was happening here?

“Miss Y/n are you sure they were there?” Joshua asked, his voice low.

“I’m not crazy,” You whispered, voice trembling. “They were there then… and they’re here now. All ten of them, right behind you.”

Joshua felt something cold trickle down his spine. This time, he didn’t feel like looking behind him..

“Y-you can’t see them because they…” You hesitated.. “They are spirits.”

The room that was already quiet to begin with grew more silent. Even the fluorescent light seemed to pause, waiting for someone to break the tension. Joshua blinked in disbelief, then scoffed softly.

“Spirits?” He repeated, incredulous. “You’re saying ghosts are following you?”

You didn’t flinch at his tone. Your gaze remained serious, too serious as you nodded.

Joshua’s eyes flickered to his team, who were exchanging nervous looks. Things were slipping beyond the edge of rational thought. Was this the universe’s way of taunting him? Yes he has always wanted to work on more complex cases but a beautiful looking seemingly mad woman who could see spirits? That was not on his bucket list. Nor was it his expertise.

Ji Ho, the only woman on the team and ever the skeptic, slowly walked up to you, her voice calm but firm. “Miss Y/n, don’t worry, we can get you the help you need-”

“You think I’m crazy.” You shook your head, eyes wide, desperate and not leaving Joshua’s “I swear, you have to believe me, I’m not insane.”

Realising you wouldn’t cooperate, Joshua held up a hand, signaling for Ji Ho to step back as he slowly reached for his pager, dialing in the code for help.

“I promise we’ll help you Miss Y/n, you need to trust us-.”

Suddenly, moving with startling speed, you grabbed the pager out of his hands, anger in your eyes sharp.

“You’re not listening!” You hissed, your grip tightening around the tiny device. Your hands, which had been shaking just moments before, suddenly stilled. It was as if you had snapped into a new state of resolve - you weren’t just pleading for help anymore; there was something else behind your gaze. Demand.. “These spirits won’t leave me until I give them what they want and you're the only one who can help me do that. I-I can’t live like this anymore.”

Joshua’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white. Something was off. You were clearly in distress, but there was something more beneath the surface. Something dangerous. The guard he had called for arrived at the door, waiting for his orders. Joshua nodded at Ji Ho who understood immediately and whispered something into his ears. As the uniformed man took off, Joshua walked over to this seat, pulling out a book and a pen. He had to engage you till he had help, he had to play his cards right.

“Fine.” He flipped to an empty page, ready to write. “Tell me more. These spirits, what do they want?”

“T-they’ve been telling me their stories, about who they are, about what happened”

“Okay…. Who are they?” Joshua tapped his pen against the surface. “Do you know their names?”

You shook your head. “I…I don’t but, I can ask.”

Looking around the room at nothing in particular you began mumbling something. Slowly, one after the other, you started dropping names as though you were repeating after an invisible, unheard voice. Joshua scribbled them down, eyes constantly darting towards the door, waiting for help. But as the list got longer, with each name he wrote, Joshua felt his guts twist.

As did the whole team.

Because they had all spent enough nights on those case files to have every detail memorised.

Six of the ten names were the missing cases they had been working on.

“A-are you sure these… these are the six names?”

“Ten.” You corrected him. “Yes, these are the ten names.”

Ji Ho met Joshua’s eyes from across the room, shaking her head. How could it be? More than half the names matching their list of victims, this…. This couldn’t just be a coincidence right?

“You said you can see them? Can you, maybe, describe one of them for me?” Joshua studied your face as your eyebrows furrowed. “The old woman, Ye Soon, what does she look like?”

“S-she’s around 60 years old. White hair, kind of like a curly bob. She’s got scoliosis so she stands a little crookedly.” You looked at the empty space behind him. “She also has a burn mark on her right hand.”

Joshua froze. You were right. Down to every detail.

“And Macy?”

You turned around, looking over by the window. “She looks like a typical college kid - soft features, long straight hair, cheeks a bit sunken. She also peels the skin by her nails, they’re all bruised.”

Right again. Your words matched the photos tucked away in the case file almost exactly.

“And Jason-”

“Officer Hong, we’re wasting time.” You shook your head. “Describing them is of no use, it doesn’t matter. What matters is what happened to them.”

“You mean….” Joshua tapped his foot, his mind racing, the realisation just dawning upon him.. “You mean how they died?”

“I mean how they were murdered.” You lowered your voice just a little. “And now they want justice.”

The silence now was cold, heavy and deafening. No one knew what to do - the weight of your words had immobilised them all.

“Josh.” Ji Ho, the only one unable to stay silent anymore, stepped up. “A word?”

Excusing himself, Joshua got up and made his way to his team, all seven of them huddling around. Some of them looked terrified, constantly looking around, some looked at him plain confused like they still hadn’t put the pieces together.

“Something’s wrong.” Ji ho crossed her arms. “There’s no way she-”

“Knows the exact names and descriptions of missing people? Details of a private investigation?” Minho quipped. “I think it finally makes sense why we’ve not been able to trace these people…. They're dead.”

“Which means all this while what we should have actually been looking for, are bodies.” Jaehyun sighed.

“What?” Ji ho looked at the boys like she couldn’t believe they were falling for this. “You think this is real? You think spirits are actually talking to her?” She turned to Joshua. “Please tell me you’re smarter than to believe in this madness.”

“I don’t know what to believe right now.” Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose, lost in thought. “I think we should hear what she has to say-”

“Josh-”

“Ji Ho, we've been on these cases for months without a single solid lead.” He sighed. “As impossible as this might seem, I am desperate and I want to take a shot.”

“You’re wasting the team’s time. I don’t think-”

“She came to me, the case is mine,” Joshua looked at her pointedly. “So I call the shots.”

Throwing her hands in the air, Ji Ho walked away, refusing to be a part of what she mumbled - a meaningless spectacle. Joshua returned, pulling a chair up, sitting right before you. Although he was the one who wanted answers, you beat him to the questioning.

“You don’t believe me do you?” You sounded so scared. “You think I’m insane.”

“I want to believe you, trust me Miss Y/n, you have no idea how easy it would make my life to believe you, six of these people are actually….” Shaking his head he held himself back, sticking to what was important. “The point is, you have come to the right place for help, the law can help you. But the law also requires proof, you need to prove what you’re saying is true.”

You gulped, tapping your feet unsure, eyes darting around.

“Ye Soon, that old woman.” You looked at him, slightly hesitating. “What if I took you to her?”

Joshua frowned confused.

“What if I showed where she is…. “ Scooting closer to him, you whispered. “She told me everything, I can take you to where her body is.”

Ji Ho looked at Joshua with narrowed eyes. Joshua returned her look with an unreadable expression. As though the universe had timed it all, the guard finally returned with help - two men dressed in soft blue scrubs carrying the logo of the town’s only psychiatric hospital.

There were one of two things Joshua could do. He knew sending you away was the right thing to do, he knew you needed help, he knew listening to you was madness.

But he also knew you were the closest thing to answers he had gotten in months.

Turning to you, he pulled your chair closer. “Show me.” His voice was low, urgent. “Right now.”

Joshua stood by the back door, the rain slashing against the pavement like a thousand tiny daggers. He lit his cigar, inhaling the smoke as the faint hum of the town’s heartbeat seemed to vanish into the downpour. The cold air bit at his skin, but he didn’t care. His thoughts, heavy with the case, weighed him down more than any storm ever could.

Beside him you stood, leaning against the brick wall, your arms holding on to his jacket, wrapped around your midsection as if bracing against the cold. Your damp nightgown had long since dried, but the way you stood, your shoulders slightly hunched, made it seem like you were still caught in the storm.

Joshua couldn’t help but watch you. Something about you unsettled him, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. His eyes found their way to you, running all over your features, lingering longer than they should have.

“Smoking is bad for your health.”

You finally spoke, looking at him with those big eyes. Brown, soft, expressionless eyes.

“I believe every man should have some bad habit.” Joshua chuckled, offering a small smile. “Keeps him grounded.”

You laughed softly—a sound that almost got lost in the rain’s incessant roar, but thankfully, his ears were sharp enough to catch it.

“Do you have a bad habit Miss Y/n?”

You hummed, looking far off at the quiet darkness of the town. “I don't know if this is bad but, I tend to go to any lengths to help the people I love.”

Joshua’s lips pressed together. His gaze flicked to you, considering your words. “Must be why the spirits chose to talk to you,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “Maybe they knew you’d help no matter what.”

When he turned to see what you thought of that, he found a small almost imperceptible smile tugging the corner of your lips. It was subtle, but present, making his chest tighten unexpectedly

“What?” he asked, his voice betraying the flutter in his chest.

You shook your head, still smiling. “I’m just relieved you believe me.”

How could he not? Afterall, Ye Soon was indeed where you said she would be - at the abandoned ice cream factory, tucked away in a large freezer, the body months old and ice cold. His team—especially Ji Ho—had recoiled in disbelief, but you? You hadn’t flinched. You stood aside, quiet and composed, as the body was recovered.

Over the last two hours, samples of hair, nails, fluid and whatever else that could be found were gathered and sent to the forensic lab for analysis but Joshua had a bigger question to address.

“Is…” He took a deep breath. “Is Ye Soon somewhere around here?”

“She’s by the gate.” You turned to him. “Why?”

“I just want to confirm….. you’re sure she didn’t see the face of her killer?”

On the ride back, you had recounted Ye Soon’s entire story to the team. How she had felt like she was being stalked for a long time. How she didn’t usually go anywhere at night but on the evening of her birthday, she couldn’t resist the free dinner invitation she received. How she was walking to the restaurant, dressed up and all alone when she was attacked from behind.

You shook your head, expression slightly dejected. “No, her killer wore a mask so she had no idea who it was. One moment she was hit on the head and bleeding to death and the next, she found herself looking at her body in the freezer…. as a spirit.”

“If justice is what she wants, it's going to be hard without having any idea who the killer is.” He sighed. “For now, we can start looking into why a freezer was functioning in an abandoned factory for the last 4 months but…. I’m not sure if it’ll lead to anything solid.”

“Don't lose hope already.” You pushed yourself off the wall, taking a step closer to him. “The forensic team might have some answers.”

“I hope so.” He nodded, but his thoughts were elsewhere. His gaze lingered on you, and for a brief moment, he imagined what it might be like to trust you completely. “Miss Y/n, I'll need you to lead me to the other nine bodies too. I hope it won’t be too much trouble for you.”

“Of course not.” You shook your head, hand finding his wrist reassuringly. “Although one of them is quite far and it's already past midnight-”

“Not now, tomorrow morning.” He glanced at your eager expression, hands itching to tuck that tiny strand of hair behind your ear. “It's late now, you should head home.”

You nodded, drawing your hand back, and Joshua already missed the warmth of your touch. Taking a step back, you attempted to remove his jacket, but when a strong gust of wind blew, a shiver ran down your body.

Joshua chuckled, pulling it up your arms, adjusting it over your shoulders. “Keep it, it suits you better.”

“Careful officer.” You smiled at him. “If you come asking for it again, I won't give it back.”

“Fine by me.” He laughed. “Let me grab my keys, I'll drop you.”

“That's okay, I'll walk.”

“It's raining Miss Y/n. I don't think-”

“I like walking in the rain.” You stuck your hand out in the pouring water. “Makes me feel good.”

“I could walk you.”

“It’s not like I don’t have company.” Joshua frowned as you giggled. “The spirits, officer. They follow me everywhere.”

That flicker of something playful in your eyes - Joshua was seeing it for the first time. When you had walked in here earlier you had been so terrified, shaking, desperate for help. Now you seemed so unfazed. Maybe you were glad that you were finally getting help. Maybe you were never really terrified. Either way, the unsettling shift in your demeanor troubled his mind.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” His tone was lighter than he intended, masking what he was truly feeling.

“I’ll be fine,” You brushed him off with the wave of a hand. “I’ll just get lost in my own thoughts, without any distractions.”

Joshua didn’t stop you as you began walking. He simply watched as you glanced over your shoulder, muttering a small “good night” before stepping into the rain. Slowly, as your figure was swallowed by the darkness of the night, Joshua retreated into the debate in his mind. Should he follow to make sure you weren’t in trouble?

Or were you the trouble that was looming around the corner?

Joshua leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked on the scattered files in front of him. The low hum of the fluorescent lights above, along with the steady, almost rhythmic tap of his fingers against the desk, were the only sounds that filled the otherwise silent room. The pile of crime scene files seemed to grow heavier with each glance—each one a grim reminder of the ten bodies they had recovered. Ten people dead, each with their own story, now reduced to nothing more than photos, forensic reports, and police notes.

Two weeks. Two long weeks of following the trail you’d led them to, finding all ten victims hidden in the most unimaginable locations, each one’s story recounted with haunting detail. As per protocol, his team had collected every piece of evidence they could find, and the progressive inspection of each item only further corroborated your stories. Ji Ho, who had initially resisted being part of this madness, had also joined, keenly looking into the details of the investigation.

There was just one detail that Joshua could not wrap his head around - the fact that all ten victims had apparently not seen their killer’s face.

Each one had been attacked from behind - either struck on the head, run over by a car, strangled from behind or shoved off a building. It was always from the back, perfectly concealing their perpetrators face, keeping that identity a mystery. Aside from this one detail which was making the progress of his investigation incredibly difficult, Joshua did not notice anything strikingly similar amongst all the cases.

That was until he was staring at his now very real murder board earlier today.

It was filled with a dozen pictures and pins, only getting messier with every detail but there was one connection Joshua happened to piece as he searched for the finer details - Ye Soon was going for a dinner on her birthday, Macy was returning from a birthday party her friends had thrown her, Jason was going to meet his girlfriend to celebrate his birthday….. All ten of them had died on their birthday and not just that - all of their birthdays fell on the 30th of the month.

And that was when the pieces clicked. Joshua arranged all ten cases according to a timeline, spanning from January this year to November. Every month on the 30th, right on their birthday, one victim had died and Joshua knew for a fact that this was a pattern because there was no victim in February - the only month without a 30th.

This was an MO. This wasn’t the work of ten different killers. It was one. One serial killer.

The moment he realized this, he knew he should share it with his team, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to. Perhaps it was because he knew the moment he revealed this discovery, all eyes would turn to one person—You.

And sure enough, the door slammed open and Ji Ho entered, a thick file in her hand.

“I heard back from forensics.” She walked over, setting the papers on his table. “But you’re a brilliant detective Joshua, so you must have already figured this out.”

“What?” Joshua sipped on his coffee, trying to appear nonchalant.

“There were many different DNAs collected at the crime scenes, but one particular DNA was found at every single one.”

Fuck. There it was. His worst fear, out loud.

“This is clearly a serial killer Joshua.” When he didn’t meet her eye, she moved into his line of vision. “For heaven’s sake, why are you trying to protect her?”

“Who?” Joshua shot back, his jaw tightening.

“Y/n.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “Please tell me you’re not being an infatuated fool-”

“I’m not a fool.”

“But you don’t deny the infatuation.” Ji Ho’s voice rose as she pointed at him. “I’ve seen you two over the last many days - you think I don’t recognise the way you look at her?”

“Ji Ho, just because the two of us were once a thing and it didn’t work out-”

“This isn’t about us!” She threw her hands in the air, frustration evident. “You know I’m more professional than that. This is about you. You saw a petite, pretty damsel in distress who told you a sob story and leaned on your shoulder and you decided to forget about everything sensible.”

“You aren’t being sensible!” Joshua turned to face her, anger simmering. “Ji Ho, if Y/n was the killer why would she lead us to the bodies? Why would she try to implicate herself?”

“You know how the brains of psychos work. They think they’re too smart, that they’ll never be caught.” Ji Ho crossed her arms. “This is just a game for her.”

Joshua shook his head. “She’d have to be too dumb to expose herself like this. Using the paranormal to do it, don’t you think it’s too much?”

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” Ji Ho let out a heavy breath. “So I did what I had to do. I called Y/n here.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“I took a sample of her hair without her knowledge and sent it to the lab.” Ji Ho took a step back, her eyes cold. “In a short while, we’ll know if that DNA matches hers… You’ll have your answers then.”

“Ji Ho, this wasn’t my order—”

“I’m sorry but I don’t care, Josh.” She stopped her tracks by the door. “We might have been in love years ago, but I know what you are like. You’ll do anything to protect her and I cannot just sit back and watch you indulge in this stupidity.”

“I’m none of your fucking concern!” Joshua’s voice rose in frustration as she walked out without another word. “Ji Ho, come back here, goddammit!”

Frustrated he slammed his hands on the table, the coffee cup toppling to the ground. It wasn’t like Joshua hadn’t thought of this possibility but this was his case to solve. He wanted to talk to you first, hear whatever it was from your mouth, not some cold DNA report.

Recalling Ji Ho say that you were here, Joshua bolted out of his room to the visitors lounge. There you were, sitting on the couch with your feet pulled up, flipping through a magazine while the sound of a Spanish telenovela played in the background. Annoyed by the noise, Joshua grabbed the remote and switched it off before walking toward you.

In the sudden absence of the sound you looked up, eyes finding him, a smile spreading across your face as he sat beside you on the couch. Normally, Joshua wouldn’t sit so close to a witness—or take her hand in his—but you were different.

“Hi.” You whispered. “You look tense.”

“How long have you been here?”

“About half an hour,” You rubbed his arm comfortingly. “Ji Ho said you wanted to talk to me.”

Joshua swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “There’s been some progress in the case.”

You turned to him, curious. “Did you find any of the killers?”

“Not exactly.” He shook his head. “I…I got a lead, though. Actually I’m not sure it’s much of a clue.”

“What is it?”

“All of them were killed on the 30th of the month.” He watched you closely, studying your face for any flicker of recognition, of guilt. “It seems like a pattern. Like this might be the work of one person.”

“One person?” Your eyes widened. “You mean like a serial killer?”

Joshua nodded.

“A serial killer who kills on the 30th of every month.” You muttered, lost in thought. “Why the 30th?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, his voice tight. “Maybe they don’t like the number.”

“I won’t be surprised.” You pursed your lips. “I’ve never really liked the number 30 either. It’s like a deadline... something always looming, reminding you of the things you haven’t done. The things you can’t undo.”

Joshua blinked, trying to keep his expression neutral. Please, please, please, this can’t be true.

“But if I am right and if this is a pattern,.” He stared at their intertwined hands. “30th December is not far off and maybe they have another victim in their sight…. I need to find this killer soon.”

“If it is a serial killer then this is much easier than we thought.” You reassured, turning towards him. “Think about it, isn’t it better to find one person than ten? And won’t all the evidence help you narrow down who the culprit is? All you have to do is something common amongst them all, right?”

Joshua nodded. Exactly. It was easy. Which meant it couldn’t have been you, could it? You wouldn’t have committed those crimes and then set up a trap for yourself would you? That made no sense.

Or perhaps Joshua was refusing to see sense in it. Perhaps he was so drawn by you that he couldn’t bring himself to see reason.

With each passing day, he had found his eyes lingering less over the crime scene and more over you. With each body being discovered, it was like the weight on your shoulders was lessening. You seemed more free, more at peace, more…..beautiful. Whenever your eyes met his, you began to smile. Whenever he rode his bike and you sat behind him, he felt his heart do a somersault in his chest. Just watching you walk into the station every morning made him feel a relief like no other.

Joshua had begun to like these small things. Your presence, your tiny quirks, the way you told stories, even though they were quite horrendous recounts, he liked how expressive your face was. He liked you.

And it was evident you liked him too.

At first, Joshua thought you liked to be around him because you felt safe but slowly you began sitting closer to him than usual. You began following him on walks to survey perimeters, holding his hand when you tripped but not letting it go even when you were steady. He could tell by the way you looked at him - you felt the same thing he was feeling. That undeniable attraction, that magnetism.

Except there was only one tiny thing between the two of you - you might be a potential murderer and Joshua might have to implicate you for your crimes. Which is why none of this could be true. You could not be the killer.

But no sooner than he thought that, the door to the visitors room flung open making the two of you jump apart and Ji Ho stepped in, a thin file in her hand.

“The results are back.” Her eyes flickered between both of you. “I’m sorry Josh but the DNA matches…. It’s her.”

Joshua's heart dropped. The words echoed in his mind, and for a split second, the world seemed to stop.

It was you. You were the killer.

Joshua stood in the observation room, his eyes locked on you through the two-way mirror.

You were slouched at the table, head low, your exhaustion palpable. The harsh light above cast long shadows across your face, making your features appear fragile and worn. Joshua’s heart tightened as he watched you. He longed to step in, to pull you close and promise that everything would be okay, but he couldn’t. He had to remain detached, professional—even though every instinct screamed to comfort you.

For the past three days, he had avoided entering the interrogation room, choosing instead to watch from the observation window, a silent witness to your suffering. He could see the strain in your eyes each time you pleaded for belief, for a chance to prove your innocence. Occasionally, you’d look towards him, and in those fleeting moments, it was as if you could see him right through the mirror. The desperate, pleading look you gave shattered something inside him—his resolve, his detachment. Every time, he felt that same arrow pierce his heart, and yet, he remained still, unable to intervene. Helpless.

His gaze flickered to Minho, who had just entered the room, pulling up his sleeves with the usual resolve. Joshua turned away from the mirror, his jaw tightening. He had to hold it together. He couldn’t let Minho see how he was unraveling inside.

“It’s my turn boss.” He glanced at Joshua. “Unless you want to?”

Joshua shook his head, sipping on his coffee. Minho sighed, pulling the door open and stepping in, catching you off guard with his sudden appearance. Joshua watched the man as he took a seat, settling the files on the table before you.

“Where’s Joshua?” You asked, your eyes flickering toward the door expectantly.

“I’ll ask the questions Miss.Y/n.” Minho cleared his throat a little too loudly.

“For the last time,” You sighed. “I did not do it. I am not the killer-”

“I’m not suggesting you are the killer Miss Y/n.” He pushed the file towards you. “I simply want you to explain why your DNA has been found on all ten sites.”

“I’ve already told you,” you leaned back in your chair, frustration evident in your voice. “When the spirits first talked to me, I went to some of those locations to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

“You mentioned you went to-” He flipped through the papers “-four sites. Then how was your DNA found at all ten?”

“Maybe because I was the one who led you to those locations,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“Are you suggesting we are stupid enough to mess up the sample collection?” Minho’s voice grew colder. “That we sat back and let you contaminate those crime scenes?”

“Then are you suggesting that I am stupid enough to commit ten murders and walk into a station and implicate myself?” you retorted.

Minho leaned back, narrowing his eyes.“I don’t know Miss Y/n. I’m looking for you to give me the answers.”

“For god’s sake!” You slammed your palm onto the table, frustration boiling over. “If you think I’m going to cave to this tortuous questioning and admit to something I didn’t do, you’re wrong. I. Didn’t. Do. It.”

“But you could have helped the killer.” Minho shrugged. “The sentence for an accomplice to murder is less severe Miss Y/n, if you admit to it, we can help you-”

“I don’t need your help because I did not do this.” You glanced at the mirror,your eyes locking with Joshua’s yet again. “I made a mistake coming here thinking you could help me, you’d help them. But now I am being held here, blamed for something I didn’t do.”

Joshua’s grip on his coffee tightened, his gaze sliding away from you. He had nothing to say.

Minho exhaled sharply. “Miss Y/n, you are being held because the evidence clearly points at you-”

“Or maybe I’m here because you need a scapegoat to take the fall.” you interrupted, voice dripping with bitterness.

Surprised, Joshua straightened out.

“I heard six of these cases were in fact missing people that your team hadn’t been able to find in months.” you continued, your tone mocking. “Convenient isn’t it, to blame it all on the only other person involved in the uncovering of the crime scene? A nice, easy way to wrap this up neatly.”

“Are you implying that one of us manipulated the evidence to make it look like you’re the killer?” Minho snapped.

“I didn’t say that,” you tilted your head, your gaze sharp. “But you seem to be admitting to it.”

“Miss Y/n, don’t twist my words….”

But there was no need to.

Joshua took a step back, mind running through the possibilities. About who might have such a motive, who might have manipulated the evidence…..

There was only one person who popped in his mind. Someone who was as driven as him to solve these cases. Someone who didn’t want to be a part of the investigation but had joined regardless. Someone who could possibly benefit from trapping you in this case.

Ji Ho.

Joshua knew his ex girlfriend well enough to dismiss this possibility of her involvement. It was the reason the two of them had broken up - She was incredibly competitive, she never seemed to remember the relationship the two of them shared when they were in a professional space, she was never happy for him, never acknowledged his achievements.

But that did not mean there was no passion between them outside the walls of the precinct. God they were wild and couldn’t keep their hands and eyes off each other. Things were fine till whatever happened at work stayed at work, but the more Joshua became successful in his career, Ji Ho started bringing her professional grievances home, between them. The suffocation her competitiveness brought forth was what stifled their bond - Joshua couldn’t live with it any longer.

But maybe, now that he thought about it, this situation allowed her to kill two birds with one stone - on one hand, the cases termed nearly impossible could finally be closed and on the other, you, his new person of interest would be out of the way. Joshua saw the way Ji Ho looked at the two of you, like she didn’t like it one bit - her incriminating you wasn’t exactly impossible. When she had secretly taken a sample of your hair to cross verify with the identified DNA, who’s to say she didn’t plant the other evidence the same way?

Grabbing his pager from the table, he gave you one last glance before pulling the door open, setting off to look for the woman in question. He had to act fast. He needed to find out if Ji Ho was involved.

Thankfully he didn’t have to look far, she was right at the visitors room, remote in her hand, watching the same Spanish telenovela that had been perpetually on the station’s TV for months.

“Ji Ho-” Joshua called out.

“Shh,” she raised a hand to silence him, keeping her eyes on the screen. “I’m watching.”

“Is that more important than what’s happening with Y/n-”

“Honestly? Yeah,” she replied without missing a beat, her tone flippant. “This is actually what helped save her.”

Joshua stared at her, bewildered. “What do you mean, ‘save her’?”

“I think she’s innocent,” Ji Ho said, finally turning to face him.

All points of argument that Joshua had come up with died in his mind. What?

“You do? You believe she’s innocent?” He placed himself right before the screen. “You were the one who was so sure she did it-”

“I simply believed the evidence that came up.” She rolled her eyes. “But unlike you, I don’t let my emotions rule over practicality.”

“I did not-”

“I know you Josh, I know something is wrong. Your judgement has been clouded for days, you’re not thinking straight. But I am.” She crossed her arms, taking a deep breath. “I knew we needed more irrefutable evidence and most importantly, we needed a motive so I had been looking and asking around. Turns out she has an alibi.”

“What kind of alibi?”

“The people at the store confirmed that a few weeks back she had run in, scared and shaking, claiming she was followed. The neighbours also said that she had approached them for help a few times but they didn't see anyone.”

“Didn't you say that she might have done all that to make her story more convincing?”

“Yes but,” Ji Ho bit her lower lip hesitating. “I also broke into her house-”

“You what??”

“-and I found her passport and a couple of other things that prove she wasn't even in town when three or four of those murders happened, the timelines don't match.”

“So it might not be her?” Joshua let out an inward sigh of relief. “Then… then what about the DNA?”

“Precisely.” Ji Ho nodded, gesturing him to turn around. “Watch this.”

Frowning Joshua did, eyes falling on the tv screen. He wasn't really familiar with this show, the only reason he had ever watched it was because Ji Ho was obsessed with it. He did remember this particular part of the plot though - everyone thought Maria was the mother of Lizzy but it was actually her twin, Gloria.

Twin?.....

“Identical twins have the exact same DNA.” Ji Ho muted the show as his mind raced with the possibilities. “Do you know if Y/n has a twin?”

Joshua shook his head. He didn't ask much about your family or personal life, he didn't really find the chance to have such a conversation but if there was even a possibility….

Rushing out, Joshua barged into the interrogation room where Minho was still badgering you with his questions.

“Joshua….” You looked up at him, eyes widening. For the first time in days, you saw something other than apology in his eyes. You clung to that look, hoping it meant he was still on your side. Ji Ho followed him, walking into the room right behind, earning a small frown from you.

“Y/n,” Watching Joshua unable to say anything she walked up, shoving her hands in her pockets. “There's something important we need to know.”

“What is it?” You continued to look at Joshua who simply nodded softly, signalling you not to worry.

“Do you happen to have a twin? An identical one?”

Blinking rapidly, you hesitated. “I…. I do, yeah, why?”

Joshua and Ji Ho exchanged looks. Fuck.

“Where is she?”

“I- I don't know. We both grew up at the St. Mary orphanage. At around the age of eight, she was adopted. The family didn't want two kids so they only took her in. Few months later I was adopted by a different family so we haven't really seen each other or even heard from each other since then.” Your eyes flickered between both the officers. “Why? What happened?”

Thank god. Thank fucking god.

Joshua let out the breath he was holding, shutting his eyes briefly out of relief.

Ji Ho, who looked both guilty and curious, stepped closer to you. “So you don’t know where she is right now?”

You shook your head, “But I know she's a Mayor's daughter, I don't remember for which town though.”

Nodding at Joshua, Ji Ho whispered something into Minho's ears before the two of them hurriedly left the room. Standing up confused, your eyes followed them as Joshua neared you.

“Joshua what's happening?”

He didn't say anything, just simply pulled you into a hug, finally feeling your warmth again as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“You'll be fine.” He held onto you tighter. “I'm not going to let anything happen to you.”

Joshua watched you fast sleep on the couch of the visitor’s lounge.

Curled up, with your hair spilling over your face like a dark veil, you looked peaceful, untouched by the weight of the world. As much as Joshua longed to slip in beside you and to hold you as you slept, he knew better. He had to maintain some distance. The team had already been giving him looks whenever you stood too close to him, leaning over case files, working through the details of the investigation. At least the pity and disdain in their eyes had faded—now that you were cleared, they saw you as less of a suspect.

Ji Ho, ever the efficient one, had tracked down your twin just a few days ago. She had been found in a town several hours away, barely conscious, dragged into the precinct with the sour smell of alcohol still clinging to her. Standing beside Joshua, you watched your twin in the interrogation room, hungover and dazed, trying to make sense of the evidence mounting against her. Though you hadn’t spoken in years, the ache in your chest was unmistakable. You didn’t want to believe it was her but even after sobering up when she failed to provide any alibi, the truth was undeniable.

Her neighbors, friends, and even family all corroborated the fact that she had fallen deep into drugs, her life spiraling out of control. The last few months had turned her into someone unrecognizable—violent, unpredictable and uncontrollable. No one could vouch for her whereabouts during the killings either and as the investigation wore on, the evidence stacked up against her, leaving little room for doubt. In the end, she was arrested, the case moving forward to court where she was to be prosecuted for her crimes.

Today was your final day at the station—just a few papers to sign, a final nod to close the investigation. After this, the case would be officially closed and the two of you would not be bound by the investigation anymore - there was no obligation to see each other.

“You know,” Ji Ho’s voice broke the silence, pulling Joshua out of his thoughts, “just because the case is over doesn’t mean you won’t get to see her.”

Joshua turned to see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning casually against the frame.

“I know.” He muttered, feeling a familiar pang in his chest. “But how do you always know what I’m thinking?”

She chuckled, stepping into the room. “Because I know you, Joshua. Better than anyone. I just wish you knew me too. I wish you knew me better. I would never incriminate someone out of pettiness.”

He winced, guilt tugging at him. “I’m sorry. I guess I was just ready to believe anything that meant Y/n was innocent.”

Ji Ho glanced at you. “Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore. She is innocent. “

“Thanks to you.” He smiled, looking at you slightly shifting in your sleep, mouth now slightly open as you continued to doze off. “She would have still been a suspect if not for your brilliance.”

“Nah.” Ji Ho waved her hand, dismissing his words. “I only did what I had to, it's my job. But what's really amazing is you cracked the cases Joshua, the ones no one could solve for months. I heard the promotion letter is on the way.”

“It should have been yours Ji Ho.” Staring at the ground Joshua shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet her eyes. He couldn't bring himself to. “I know how much you wanted this too, and I… I don’t understand why you gave all the credit to me.”

Ji Ho sighed, her gaze distant. “I did want it. But I felt like you deserved it more, especially for all that I put you through the last many days.”

“So this is out of pity?”

“It's out of admiration.” She corrected. “I don't know if I would have been able to keep my calm the way you did when Y/n was being accused. You put your job above everything, you were the one who figured out the killer's MO, you were the driving force of this investigation. It's only right that you go up the ranks.” She then paused as though she was unsure if she should continue. “You can also think of it as an early birthday present from me.”

Joshua glanced at the calendar, the black rimmed circle placed over 29th December. His birthday was tomorrow. Here he was, too wrapped up in all this to even remember but of course Ji Ho did. Even after all that happened, she remembered.

“Thanks,” he muttered, trying to mask the sudden rush of gratitude. Before he could say more, his gaze shifted back to you. You were beginning to stir, shifting on the couch, their voices perhaps pulling you from your slumber.

Ji Ho noticed it too, and with a small nod, she tucked her hands in her pockets and began to back out of the room. “I should go. You and Y/n should have a nice celebration tomorrow, okay?”

Joshua smiled, not entirely convinced as she disappeared into the buzz of the busy office. Was he really worthy of a celebration though? Even though the six biggest problems of his life had been solved giving him the promotion he wanted more than anything, Joshua didn't quite find himself fully relieved. It was as though there was something he still wasn't seeing.

When you finally raised your head, blinking sleepily, Joshua pushed all his conflicting thoughts aside. Right now, only you mattered.

“Morning sunshine.” He smiled softly, voice light.

You glanced at the window, then at the clock. “It's 6pm Joshua.”

“Yes but you've been sleeping like it's the dead of the night.”

“Can you blame me?” You yawned. “For the first time in days, I'm able to sleep without thinking about somebody constantly watching me.” When Joshua looked confused, you sat up, crossing your legs. “The spirits, Joshua.”

“They're gone?”

“I haven't seen much of them the last few days, ever since she was brought in…..” You trailed off, your gaze flickering down to your restless hands. “I guess they've gotten the justice they're looking for.”

“I'd have thought they'd stick around at least till the trial.” Joshua looked thoughtful. “She's the Mayor's daughter. What if she buys her way out of this?”

“I don't know.” You shrugged. “I know her background might allow her to escape this unscathed but I hope not. Perpetrators deserve to be punished.”

Something about your words stung Joshua differently. Indeed, the perpetrator should be punished, but for that, it was necessary to find the real culprit. A tiny voice in his head was making him doubt his choice.

“I thought twins were naturally very protective of one another.” He glanced at you carefully. “You seem okay with whatever is happening to your sister.”

You looked at him incredulously. “Of course I'm upset but you know what she did. I'm not emotionally attached to her because we barely know anything about each other but even if I was, do you think someone who killed so many people deserves to walk freely? The spirits trusted me to ensure they got justice Joshua, how can I let their murderer not face any consequences?”

Joshua stared at the wall behind you, mind racing to the time it all began with you walking into the station. Your claim about spirits only you could see, all ten spirits being unaware of their killer yet all ten of them conveniently being killed by the same person. Your knowledge of all the crime sites, finding your DNA in every single one. You happening to have a twin sister who, in contrast to your perfect alibis, didn't have any. It was all too easy - was it a lucky coincidence that the spirits found the estranged twin of their perpetrator to be their yielder of justice? Or had he in fact caught the wrong sister…..Joshua felt a chill run down his spine. Somehow, it didn't seem like this case was over - there was clearly more to it.

He turned his attention back to you, gulping when he realised you were studying his zoned out expression intently.

“What is it?” You raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

“Just…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to come over and get my jacket back but I realised I didn't even know where you lived.”

You cocked your head at him, a knowing expression on your face. “I told you - Once you give it to me, I won’t return it if you ask.”

“Right.” Joshua chuckled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

Fuck. This was his one shot to confirm the truth before it was too late. Twins might look identical and even have the same DNA but their fingerprints? Fingerprints were unique even among twins and Joshua wanted to get his hands on yours. His jacket being a leather one would have been an easy way to obtain them but now, he had to think of something else.

“I was thinking, do you want to maybe go out and get dinner today?” He looked at you feigning casualness he was not feeling. “We've never really gotten the chance to do anything outside the precinct, I thought we could spend some time….”

You shook your head softly, a small, apologetic smile playing at your lips as you got up. “Not tonight. I have something I need to do.”

“Something more important than me?” He smiled half-heartedly, trying to mask the hurt. “Than us?”

Laughing softly you walked up to him, hands clasped behind your hand as you leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “I'll be seeing you tomorrow anyway, birthday boy.”

Joshua watched as you slowly pulled away from him and began to leave, the lightness of your kiss still lingering on his skin. It didn’t feel like an intimate gesture, more like a goodbye, a farewell to something unspoken.

He stood frozen, entangled in his web of thoughts, unsure of what to do with himself. But when the moment passed, he made up his mind. - he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to know the truth.

Rushing towards Ji Ho’s cubicle, his heart pounding in his chest, he called out to her breathlessly.

“You said you broke into Y/n’s place, right?”

Her eyes widened, surprised by his urgency. She nodded.

“I need you to give me the address.”

Joshua slowly pushed the door of your house, both surprised and thankful it was unlocked.

He had been hiding in the bushes for over an hour now, watching you move around through the glass of the window. About ten minutes ago, you had donned his jacket, pulled your hair into a high ponytail and left the house, walking into the dead of the night. Joshua glanced at his watch - it was 11pm and he had no idea what kind of business you had set off to do. Now that he thought about it, Joshua didn’t know anything about you at all - why then was he so enthralled by you?

He had to snap out of it. He was here to find the truth and that’s what he was going to do. When he was finally convinced that you weren’t returning to grab something you might have forgotten, Joshua mustered his courage and stepped carefully into the dimly lit house, his heartbeat quickening with each creak of the floorboard beneath his shoes. This was the only chance he might have to explore your space, your sanctuary, see who you were outside that mask of affection you always wore when they were together. He knew it was dangerous and reckless, but he had to be sure.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. It smelled faintly of lavender, mixed with a subtle undertone of something he couldn’t quite place. He moved through the living room, avoiding the clutter of half-empty cups and newspapers, scanning for anything that might give him a clue. The space looked like it hadn’t been cared for in a while, like you hadn’t been home for a long time. Joshua made mental notes of everything as he walked in, his feet taking him around like he had been here a hundred times already.

It was only when he tripped over the rug that his tracks stopped, prompting him to look at the cause of his near fall - A loose floorboard. Frowning he crouched down and pried it loose, the cool edge of the tile slipping from its mortar with a slight scrape. Underneath, hidden in the narrow compartment, was a small wooden box, its surface worn with time. Turning it in his hands, Joshua pried it open.

Photographs.

Hundreds of photographs of you.

No, not you… you didn’t dress in designer wear, drink expensive champagne or drive in a Rolls Royce. This was your sister.

You had uncountable photographs of her, carefully taken and meticulously arranged. She looked young in some of them and much older in others. Some were clearly taken from a distance while others seemed more intimate, like they’d been taken while she was unaware….. You had been stalking her.

From the looks of it, you had been keeping an eye on her for years, watching her every move. Joshua’s stomach churned, a new sense of unease settling over him. You said you hadn’t seen her in years - you lied.

Spreading them out on the cold floor, he flipped through them, realising that everyone was right about her - she had an affinity to party and indulge in drugs, often blacking out in the middle of nowhere. But he also realised that she in fact, had an alibi…. A couple of dates on these photos were on the 30th… she couldn’t have possibly been the killer.

And more importantly, you knew that. If you had taken these pictures, you knew your sister was innocent - yet you watched her be put away behind the bars.

Fuck.

This was a terrible mistake.

Quickly moving, Joshua grabbed the relevant photos - Ji Ho had to see this, the whole team had to see this. But before he could smoothly stash them away in his pocket, he heard the familiar creak of the floorboard at the entrance. You were back.

Joshua’s breath hitched as the soft footfall of your steps echoed through the quiet room, getting louder and louder by the minute. Panicking, he quickly stuffed everything back in the box, shoved it back into its hidden compartment and placed the floorboard back in place, pretending like nothing had happened.

Just as he stood up, turning towards the sound, his eyes fell on your figure lingering by the large wooden arch, watching him intensely. Slowly, almost deliberately, you closed the distance in between, eyes not leaving him, not blinking. Joshua tensed, his body stiffening with a mix of fear and anticipation. And when you reached him, you didn’t speak - merely tilted your head, your eyes searching his face as if reading something he didn’t want you to see.

Then, without warning, curling your fingers around his collar, pulling him closer, you kissed him.

Your lips pressed against his, tenderly but also carrying an undeniable weight. Joshua's body froze for a moment, completely caught off guard by the intensity of it, the subtle brush of your lips conveying something far deeper than simple affection. Your hands moved, one sliding up to his neck, the other tangling in his hair, and for a brief second, Joshua forgot himself. His hand cupped your face, as he pushed you back against the wall, kissing you passionately, like he was a hungry man, finally being fed. You moaned as the heat swelled between the pressed bodies, both of you powerless to the undeniable attraction between the two of you.

Finally, you pulled away, just a fraction, your breath warm on his lips, and in that silence, you softly bit your lower lip, looking at him with big, lust blown eyes.

"Did I play my part well, Shua?"

Joshua’s heart stuttered in his chest, his breath slowing down, eyes fixed on you.

And then he cocked his head and gave a short nod.

At last, at fucking last, Joshua allowed the mask to crack, a small, victorious smile dancing on his face. The smile that had once been charming and controlled, faltered at the edges, now that he had come face to face with the full scope of the story he had spun. The facade he worked so hard to maintain, the calculated version of himself that had held the reins of this twisted game, finally slipped away.

Dragging his hand down from your cheek, he wrapped it around your throat, pulling you closer, angling your face up, pressing contrastingly soft kisses along your jaw. You sighed happily despite struggling to breathe, eyes rolling back as you grabbed his wrist, not to pull his choking hand away, but to hold it in place. Fuck. He loved that you loved this.

“You did great, baby.” He whispered into your ear. “You did so so well.”

“A…” He loosened his grip when you failed to speak. “Aren’t you going to reward me then?”

“Of course I am.” He pulled back, fully letting you go, supposedly to allow you to breathe again. But before you could, hand on your head, he pushed you down, forcing you onto your knees. As you quickly stripped out of his favourite jacket, placing it under you to cushion you from the cold floorboard, he unbuttoned his pants, getting ready for your mouth, his favourite place to be. Within seconds, you took over, pulling his pants down and his dick out, spitting in your hand before stroking it slowly. Joshua slapped your hand away and slipped his thumb between your lips prying your mouth open as he pushed his dick into your mouth.

“Fuck,” He threw his head back. He had missed this warmth of you, wrapped around him. “That’s it baby, that feels fucking good.”

Pleased with yourself, you hummed around his girth and without a warning, his hand finding the back of your head, Joshua pushed himself further in, your sound of surprise lost in your throat. You didn’t struggle too hard to take him all the way in, afterall, Joshua had been here a hundred times already. When he noticed you were running out of breath, he pushed himself just a little further before completely pulling out, throwing you into a coughing fit. Looking at you disappointedly, he shook his head,

“You can do better baby.” He tilted your face up. “Don’t you want to do better for me?”

Nodding eagerly, you took him in your mouth again, bobbing your head around his length just the way he liked it, just the way he had trained you to pleasure him. Without him even needing to say it, you clasped your hands behind you, only your mouth working vigorously, alternating between blowing him fast and letting him deep in your throat. Grinning at you, Joshua wrapped your ponytail around his hand, jerking his hips forward to match your pace, finding his orgasm building in him much sooner than usual.

Of course it did. Joshua was unusually happy today - afterall, everything he intended went according to plan. He had supposedly solved all six of those never ending missing cases, he had secured his promotion and no one even found out that he was the real killer.

Throwing his head back, he groaned as you skillfully let him so deep in, your nose nearly touching his groin, your face reddening. Dragging you off his cock, he looked down at you impressed, receiving your fucked out expression in return - eyes blown, drool leaking from the corners of your lips, mouth still open, waiting for more. Chucking, he stroked himself.

“Strip.”

And you did, pulling your gown over your head, tossing it somewhere far. Then you unclasped your bra, your perfect boobs spilling out of the cups as Joshua felt his mouth water from the sight of it. He had missed them so bad and by the end of tonight, he was going to irrevocably mark them as his. When you looked at him questioningly about taking off your underwear, he shook his head and pushed you against the wall by your shoulders, the back of your head softly hitting the concrete. Knowing what he was going to do next, you obediently stilled as he held your face with both his hands and, god did he fuck it like there was no tomorrow.

This was what Joshua loved about you the most - you never complained. Anything he gave, you took it oh so well, beyond his expectations, always proving just how devoted you were to him. That was why he was able to use you as the perfect instrument to orchestrate his scheme. Without you, there was no way he would have been able to secure that promotion and get out of this town.

He had committed too many crimes here, lingered for too long and if he had spent any longer, he knew the chances of him being caught were high. Although he was meticulous in choosing his victims and ensured they had no family or friends to notice their absence, six out of ten of them had landed on his table regardless. Just looking at the case files annoyed him. How the fuck was he supposed to get promoted if solving the very crimes he committed was the only way to deem him worthy? That meant Joshua needed someone else to take the fall, he needed a scapegoat and a story.

And that’s what everything so far was. Joshua spun an unimaginable, unbelievable story and centered it around you, his main character. He made you a meek, scared and vulnerable woman, just the kind that good old officer Hong would fall for while he himself played a well crafted role - a man tired of unsolvable cases finding his last ray of hope in a woman he happened to fall for. Being a part of a moral battle, guilt tripping his ex-girlfriend into handing him the promotion and coming out of all this with his love being victorious was just the icing on the cake. It was actually all too easy - the accurate decoding of his team’s psyche was what drove the whole plot.

He knew most of them were highly superstitious and the idea of spirits would terrify them enough to believe your tale. Although the idea of spirits was absurd and haunting, in a small town like this a touch of the supernatural was precisely what was required to get everyone on the edge, to make coincidences believable, to make the unreal seem real. He knew you wouldn’t mess this up - he spent hours telling you about each victim, making you memorise their appearances, their habits, their stories. He trusted you to do a good job, but it was Ji Ho who was the wild card, the one he had taken a risk with.

Joshua knew Ji Ho being the realist that she was, would never believe the idea of ghosts and would look only for solid facts and evidence. That’s why he had very meticulously planted your DNA in all ten sites, well aware that his ex-girlfriend would immediately suspect you. He wasn’t trying to trap you, no no, you were his favourite doll - he just needed to somehow introduce the twin twist, his most brilliant plot point.

Joshua was also well aware of Ji Ho's addiction to that stupid Spanish show - it was only a matter of time before she had a lightbulb moment and considered the idea of you having a twin. From there, it was a cake walk - he had already spent months ensuring your sister did not have significant alibis. Thanks to her drug addiction, she was already naturally sketchy, often aloof and most importantly, frequently unaware of her actions and locations. With the deletion of a few CCTV footages, and ripping up some parking tickets and restaurant bills, Joshua had made sure she had no solid evidence to back her innocence. Her being found in a state too far gone to vouch for the truth was no coincidence too - he had been secretly supplying her with stronger than usual doses of drugs for a while now.

And that’s how things went down exactly like he planned - an innocent person was sitting in jail, waiting to be tried for crimes she didn’t commit while here he was, promoted, free and fucking the mouth of the woman undeniably devoted to him.

Joshua focused his gaze on you, tears running down your cheek, the back of your throat most definitely bruised but you didn't ask him to stop. Instead you contracted your throat around him, drawing out those tell tale groans as he felt himself nearing his high. With a swift movement he let you go and pulled himself out, jerking himself hard as you waited for him patiently, mouth hanging open. The moment you stuck your tongue out desperately, Joshua came, spurts out white coating your tongue, spilling out of the corner of your mouth, down to your boobs. His chest heaved, much like yours, as he took a step back, letting go his softened length as he glanced at you. His masterpiece, the queen on his chessboard.

Slowly walking back he pulled up a chair, kicking his pants off before settling down on it. He wanted to pause this, let you catch your breath but the ironic thing was, you yourself didn't want to stop. Getting ready to crawl to him, you leaned forward but Joshua shook his head.

“Take a minute baby.”

You pouted. “I don't want to.”

“I know but I need to.” He chuckled, looking pointedly at his currently semi hard length. “Do you want to play with yourself till then?”

Nodding eagerly, you rested back against the wall, spreading your legs out wide, displaying your nearly soaked underwear for him to see. Fuck. Was that how wet you were from just sucking him off? Joshua bet he would slide all the way in with ease and god did he want to. But he could wait - he had all night to wreck you.

Raising your hips slightly, you pulled your panties, dragging it down your leg, tossing it to join the rest of your clothes. Sucking two fingers, you slid them along the folds, rubbing and spreading them, soft moans leaving your mouth. Joshua could already feel the blood rush down to his dick again. But not yet, he wanted to savour this sight first.

He watched as you reached for your clit, putting some much needed pressure on it as your head fell back, breath getting shaky and ragged as the feeling built in you. Your free hand found your boobs, squeezing it hard, the remnants of Joshua's cum smearing filthily. The man almost gave in, ready to rail you into tomorrow when coincidentally, the chime of the clock echoed in the room, indicating it was midnight.

You stopped moving, eyes glancing at the clock before turning to him, lips breaking into a sweet smile.

“Happy birthday Shua.”

Cocking his head at you, Joshua returned your smile.

“Happy birthday to you too sweetheart.”

The two of you sharing birthdays, Joshua didn't know whether to call it fate or a lucky coincidence but it was this similarity that drove the entire plot. It all started 4 months ago when he was looking for his next set of victims. He had just finished up with that old woman, Ye Soon, and frankly, all his targets were getting incredibly easy, serving him no excitement, no thrill.

He had stopped by at the gas station one day, hopping over to the store to buy a pack of gum when he overheard a bunch of young women chattering away about how the end of the year was packed with back to back parties - first with the Mayor's daughters birthday on the 30th, then new years on the 31st. Joshua had smiled to himself. What a perfect way to end the year indeed - a significant figure like the Mayor's daughter would definitely raise the stakes. Oh it would be so fun.

And fun it was.

The Mayor's daughter was a beautiful girl and stalking her was more exciting than Joshua anticipated. He didn't think it would be this easy to follow her around but she had an affinity for running away and falling in trouble. Oh she was perfect. But that was something else that was a little more interesting than the silly shenanigans she was up to - Joshua wasn't her only stalker, you were too.

At first, Joshua thought his eyes were playing tricks. The two of you were strikingly similar, but as far as he knew, the Mayor only had one daughter, not twins. Upon throwing himself into a little more research, Joshua found out about how the two of you grew up in an orphanage but were adopted into different families and to his luck, you were actually a part of his town. Something told him having you on his side might just make all the difference.

So he began with meeting you almost regularly at the bee farm you worked in. Not many people dropped by there given the bees were quite terrifying but those tiny things were nothing for Joshua, he had bigger things to focus on. Given he was the only person you saw nearly everyday, a friendship began blossoming between the two of you and you slowly started opening up to him, telling him about your life. About how you hated your sister, how you were the one the Mayor wanted to adopt but she had locked you in the storeroom while she took your place and left to live a life full of luxuries. You on the other hand were taken in by two farmers who were negligent, unbothered and died very early in your life in a car crash. Since then you grew up isolated, constantly looking at your sister's life bitterly, knowing that it should have been yours.

Joshua's joy knew no bounds when he discovered the tumultuous relationship between you sisters. Oh this could be his most elaborate scheme yet, so many birds to hit with one stone. But the first and most important thing he needed for that was for you to be irrevocably in love with him.

Surprisingly, that was the easiest part. All it took was some praise, some attention and a few sessions of love making - within a month, you were ready to do or die for him. Then all he did was feed you his sorrows - talk about how he wasn't getting a promotion because his ridiculous ex was interfering in his workplace, about how he needed to do something exemplary to climb the ranks. That's how he had convinced you to do this stint - you promised you'd go to any extent for him and in exchange, Joshua promised you revenge. This was your chance to get back at your sister for ruining your life.

You did however keep asking him who the real killer was. Joshua knew you were head over heels for him, but he wasn't sure if you'd really stick through something as dark as his past. He didn't want to take the chance before his plan came to fruition. But now as he observed you looking up at him with earnest eyes as you fingered yourself, he wondered if you were ready to know more. Sure you listened to everything he said, going faster when he instructed you, stopping when he asked you to, even though you were almost about to cum, you loved him enough to listen. But was it enough to handle more?

He could find out about that later, right now he had enough of looking at you pleasuring yourself, he needed to be inside you urgently.

“Come here.”

Standing up immediately, you walked over to him as Joshua fixed his eyes between your legs, at the arousal dripping down your inner thigh. Using your own fingers, he collected your release, slipping them into his mouth, relishing the taste of you. No matter how many times he had eaten you out and made you scream on his tongue, every time felt heavenly.

Grabbing you by the thighs he pulled you closer and you already knew what you had to do. Turning around, you leaned back against him, grabbing his dick from behind and aligning it with your wanting hole before sinking down on it slowly.

“It doesn't matter how many times I fuck you.” Joshua groaned, relishing the way your walls fluttered around him. “You're still so tight.”

You didn't say anything in response, it didn't seem like you could, not with his dick so far in you.

“Fuck yourself on me baby.” He whispered, his grip on your waist bruisingly tight. “This is your reward.”

Muttering a string of thank yous, you began moving, rotating and rocking your hips, wantonly squeezing him tight. Joshua knew you were trying to reach for those sensitive spots so he let you, biting and sucking on the soft skin of your shoulder instead, leaving a trail of red. When you began clamping around him unbelievably tightly, he landed a warning smack on your ass.

“Move.”

And you did, bouncing up and down his length vigorously, pouring your everything into it, loud moans tumbling out of your mouth. Squeezing your boob hard, he trailed his hand up your chest, wrapping it around your neck, holding you against him while his other hand found your clit, drawing figure eights. It didn't take you much to fall apart around him considering you had already fucked yourself on your fingers for a while. Joshua could feel your arousal dripping down his length as he continued to thrust his length up.

“Sensitive…” You whined, holding his hand tight, when he just wouldn't stop. “Shua please…”

“Shh.” He muttered, pushing you off him much to your surprise before getting up himself and throwing you onto the chair instead, your knees on the seat as your hands held the backrest. Joshua stripped out of his shirt tossing it aside before he smacked you again hard, thrusting himself much deeper inside.

“Fuck, shua….it's too much.” You nearly cried as he began to snap his hips into you, your orgasm blending into another one.

“Come on baby.” He softly nibbled on your ear in complete contrast to how roughly he was pounding into you. “Don't I deserve a gift too?”

You didn't complain after that, only graphic moans and whines escaping your lips. This was the best birthday he could have asked for - here he was finally fucking you after so many days and there, your sister, his final victim was taking her last breath.

Joshua thought it was rather beautiful, the way it all came to an end. He knew your sister couldn't go more than a few hours without her usual drugs so he had made sure she had access to a little secret stash that she could sniff on when no one was looking. Little did she know, Joshua had poisoned it.

Not only that, he had also managed to slip a thin folded paper into her pants just before she was thrown in the cell. It read that she was guilty for all ten crimes and was incredibly repentful - she didn't think she deserved to live. That was his final victim of the year - another death on the 30th, another death on their birthday.

There was no particular reason why Joshua picked this date or why it had to be their birthday - he simply wanted to create a pattern, see if anyone could crack it, if anyone was smarter than him. So far, it seemed like nobody was even close. Perhaps, only after he died and as per requested in his will, if his diary was published as a book, would people know exactly what he was capable of. For now, he alone revelled in and celebrated his intelligence. Maybe you if you were strong enough for it.

Perhaps not, Joshua wondered as he glanced at you, sound slowly reducing as you inched closer to passing out. Gripping your hips tighter he began fucking you harder and faster, pushing himself to finish before you blacked out. Recognising his pace becoming erratic as he neared his climax, you looked over your shoulder.

“I haven't been taking the pill for a while Shua…”

He groaned, not stopping his thrusts. “You know how much I love cumming inside you.”

“Shua please…” You could barely manage to beg him to stop. Your body had been pushed beyond its limit.

Owing to your silence, he groaned, jerking his hips, once, then again and then he came, white coating your walls as he emptied himself into you. You fell forward, spent and exhausted as Joshua pulled out, watching his cum drip out of you.

Fuck. You were perfect.

This was perfect.

Everything was perfect.

It was probably the wee hours of the morning when you woke up, your throat hurting and dry. You rolled your head to the side finding Joshua fast asleep beside you on the bed. He had dragged you here for round two, fucking you into oblivion before moving to round three where he slowly made love, dumping load after load in you. Thankfully, he cleaned you up before sleeping - you had passed out the moment the two of you were done.

You slipped out of the bed slowly so as to not disturb him, desperate for a glass of water. Stretching, you grabbed the spare blanket and wrapped it around your naked body. Struggling to walk thanks to how sore you were all over you made your way to the kitchen, flipping the switches and bit back a scream.

Stranding by the counter was an old woman, leaning against it, looking at you like she was waiting for you. Instinctively you grabbed a knife from the nearby drawer, pointing it at her threateningly.

“W-who are you? And what-”

“You know who I am.” She said, straightening and stepping closer to the window. Your eyes widened. That was impossible - it was as though the moonlight was passing through her. You ran your eyes over her features. She had white hair, her back was bent weirdly, there was a burn mark on her hand….. Ye Soon.

“Oh Y/n,” She took a step forward. “Don't you want to know who the actual killer is?”

You continued to stare, jaw slightly hung, still unable to fathom what was happening. The spirits were a story the two of you had spun, how could it be…

“Who are you talking to?”

You turned around sharply at the sound of Joshua’s voice. He walked out, dressed in his pants, rubbing his eyes as he looked at you confused.

He couldn't see Ye Soon.

“You wanted to know the killer didn't you?” The old woman's voice was right by your ear. “Look, there he is.”

Your eyes widened, grip on the knife tightening as you stared at the man before you wordlessly. Joshua frowned, his eyes flickering between the knife and you as his eyes narrowed.

Outside, the loud sirens of the ambulance heading towards the precinct resounded in the otherwise quiet town. It seems the story of the Calendar Killer had finally come to an end.

A/n - If you have made it all the way here, thank you for reading, I know it was intense and heavy but I hope you enjoyed it! Do let me know your thoughts in the comments or tags, particularly about the twist - I need to know if my crazy mind managed to pull this off or not hehe You can also read Jeonghan's and Seungcheol's :)

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