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I still think it's funny that, while I've been a tea drinker my whole life and admittedly a tea > coffee person... that was mostly southern iced sweet tea. Or sometimes iced green tea. I had tried warm tea, but I never really liked it . Of all things, it was reading Magnus Archives fanfiction and discovering an electric kettle in my kitchen wares that improved my tea making skills and helped me expand my palate for tea.
#if fanon Martin saw how i was making tea around 2-3 years ago he would've fainted like a starved victorian lady#giant manson jar. black tea bags (plural) and whatever herbs/medicinal weeds i found in the backyard that i desired.#pour hot water. mix in sugar. add ice and stick in the fridge . drink at leisure or chug in one go if you need the boost.#only have to remove tea bags and stuff when you wanna drink.#sometimes it'd stay in there overnight.#honestly it still tasted great but that's my heathen ways#the magnus archives#tma#martin blackwood
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LET ME WARM YOU UP
summary: satoru comes home after an early morning when he went to the bakery to buy you some pastries, frozen to the bone by the biting early december cold. doesn’t he deserve to find you under the warm comforter where your warm presence hides?
cw: fluff, domestic, gojo has his nose pink from the cold, he’s silly, needy and so in love <3, i have put some pastries i know bc i’m french but ignore them if you don’t like croissant (what’s on ur mind) or pain au chocolat (i agree on this).
wc: 721
When Satoru enters the bakery — his body draped in a long coat, head wrapped in a knit cap, and half his face hidden behind a large scarf — the gentle chime of the entrance bell feels like a sweet melody mingling with the warm, sugary scent of the quiet, early-morning haven.
Behind the sparkling glass displays are heaps of pastries that make his mouth water. From chocolate croissants to apple turnovers, the variety of treats teases his senses as he approaches the kind, tiny baker, who barely reaches his chest.
“Good morning, young man,” she coos like a grandmother, tilting her head up to look at him. “Feeling like something sweet this early?”
Six o’clock in the morning — was it too early?
Satoru would camp outside the bakery if it meant sharing pastries with you.
He hums thoughtfully. “I’d like a brioche, a chocolate croissant, a croissant, an éclair, and a strawberry tart,” he says, distracted by the vibrant colors tempting him to buy out the entire bakery.
The baker grabs a bag and carefully places his order inside, smiling warmly.
“Will that be all, young man?”
Satoru nods.
“Alright.” She names the total price and hands him the large bag once he pays. “Are you planning to eat all of this yourself, young man?”
A smile capable of melting ice stretches across Satoru’s face, despite being hidden behind his scarf. “I’ll share it with my girlfriend.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you.” After he pays, the baker hands him a blue lollipop, the kind that colors your tongue. “A boy like you, who takes such good care of his loved ones, deserves this.”
Satoru accepts it with a word of thanks before heading home, where you’re unknowingly waiting for him, still tucked beneath the warm covers of your bed.
He enters the apartment silently, closing the door with care and removing his shoes and coat in near-perfect quiet. In the kitchen, he wastes no time arranging a breakfast tray, loading it with the pastries he bought and a cup of tea and coffee.
He performs the task with an adorably proud smile, humming cheerfully at the thought of sharing a warm breakfast with you under the blanket, where you’d thaw his December-chilled body.
With the tray prepared to perfection, he carries it to the bedside table and sets it down gently before slipping into the bed. The combination of the soft blanket and your warmth, still lingering in the sheets, begins to ease the cold from his body. His stiff, frozen arms wrap around you, rousing you from sleep.
“Toru?” you whisper, your eyes fluttering open as a yawn escapes your lips.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Satoru murmurs into the crook of your warm neck.
You shiver at how cold he feels. “Did you go out?” You turn to wrap your arms around him, planting a kiss on his nose, pink from the cold.
“Brought pastries,” he hums. “Wanna eat with me?” He blinks at you cutely, his snow-dusted lashes framing eyes as deep and blue as the ocean.
“You did?” The corners of your mouth turn down as you pull him closer. Satoru’s habit of buying things for you without needing to be asked makes your heart ache in the sweetest way. “Of course, my love.” You pepper kisses all over his face. “Love you so much.”
He grins so cutely you want to crush his head in your arms.
Minutes later, you’re both sitting up in bed, the makeshift tray perched on your shared lap as you indulge in a perfect breakfast.
Through the bedroom window, the first snowflakes of December fall onto the balcony, covering it in a white blanket that matches your lover’s hair. The sky, equally white, might’ve seemed dull and cold, but sitting beside Satoru, who is devouring almost all the pastries, brightens the weather.
Once your stomachs are full, Satoru burrows under the blanket, pressing his face against your pajama-clad stomach. A giggle escapes you, your chest shaking gently with the sound.
“What are you doing?” you ask, raising a playful eyebrow.
“Cuddling,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the comforter.
“You look more like a whiny cat, you know.”
“If a whiny cat gets cuddles, then I am one.”
Your laughter bubbles over, warming Satoru, who nearly purrs as your fingers scratch at his scalp.
a/n: hello guys :)) i know it’s been like two weeks w/ anything but let’s forget that, hmm? so 1st december is the birthday of my bsf haha and sadly the end of fall for me... (i’m depressed bc of this). but, i’m in the mood to write everything fluffy, etc. (saying this while my brain is mentally preparing a big angsty fic for the coming weeks bwahahaha). hope you guys have a nice week and see you soon <33
likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3
tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422
@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar
@monokaix
#[azra masterlist]#[dividers by @/saradika]#jujutsu kaisen#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#jjk#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fanfiction#gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo fluff#satoru gojo x you#satoru x reader#gojo x reader#satoru gojo imagines#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fanfiction#gojo satoru x you#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk satoru#jjk gojo#jujustu kaisen#jjk x you#jjk x y/n
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actually yknow what, no. this is not being limited to discord, yall get it too.
some general cooking tips (in which there is a brief senshi posession):
moisture is the enemy of crispy skin. pat dry with paper towel, and if you have the time and spoons, give a thorough but even coat of baking powder and let sit uncovered in your fridge overnight. this will dry out the skin nicely. for pork belly, create a tight foil boat so that only the skin is showing, and cover in salt to draw out moisture, repeating a couple times if necessary.
furikake seasoning, for the fellow rice lovers, is just nori (seaweed), sesame seeds, sugar, and msg/salt. you might have most if not all of these things already in your kitchen.
chai spice mix is just cinnamon, ginger, cardamom, cloves, nutmeg, & allspice.
pumpkin spice is just cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger.
to cure your own bacon, you only need water, white and brown sugar, and a non-iodized salt - himalayan pink salt is not iodized, if you cannot find butchers curing pink salt. from there, you can add any seasoning/flavoring you want.
the truly adventurous may cook their rice in green tea for a fresh clean taste.
you can tell if a fish is truly fresh by their eyes - clear and bright is fresh, while cloudy is older or potentially has been frozen.
it's cheaper to buy a large block pack of ramen from your local asian market and repackage the bricks into sandwich bags, than to buy a box of individually packaged ones such as maruchan or top ramen.
when buying meat, look at it's fat content - more fat marbling usually means more tender + flavorful.
you can save onion skins and other vegetable scraps to make your own broth with. you can also save bones for this. mix and match ratios to create your ideal flavor.
bay leaf will always make a soup or broth taste better, but Watch Out (they are not fun to bite into on accident).
msg is, in fact, not The Devil, that was just a racist hate campaign against the chinese and other oriental races. it's literally just a type of salt. it is no more dangerous to eat than any other type of salt.
washing your rice is important because it not only improves flavor and texture by removing excess starch, but it also helps reduce any residual pesticides or dirt, or even insect fragments (please remember that rice paddies are essentially giant ponds that all kind of things live in and swim around. you should also be washing all your produce in general.)
please salt your cooking water for pastas, it just tastes better and you will be happier for it.
boiled potatoes are also improved by salt water.
if you hate vegetables, please consider trying them fried in butter or perhaps bacon grease. it is healthier to eat them fatty than not at all.
healthy food does not in fact have to taste miserable. thats a lie. they are lying to you. free yourself from your blandness shackles. enter a world of flavor.
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an angels guide: what to pack in your bag
hey angels! whether you’re going out with friends, going to school/uni or just looking for some tips on what to keep in your every day bag, this is the list for you. i adore being that one girl who has everything in her bag - helping my friends and loved ones makes me feel really special and positive. plus i know that regardless of what’s going on or happening to me ill have it in my bag! enjoy and i hope you find this helpful.
beauty products ꒰ঌ ᡣ𐭩 ໒꒱
lip balm
spf
perfume or body spray
hydration spray
lotion
hand cream
nail polish
small essential makeup kit (e.g lipstick, blush, concealer)
setting spray
deodorant
hairspray
makeup wipes/cleanser
compact mirror
hairbrush
eyedrops
health/wellness ꒰ঌ ᡣ𐭩 ໒꒱
painkillers/paracetamol
tampons, pads, period cup etc
tissues
cough sweets
plasters
aloe vera or burn cream
hand sanitiser
wet wipes
gum and mints
extra underwear
snacks - especially if you have low blood sugar or iron!
floss/tooth picks
any medication you take throughout the day/may need
face mask
pleasure ꒰ঌ ᡣ𐭩 ໒꒱
a book
headphones
pack of cards
journal
a magazine
digital camera
essentials ꒰ঌ ᡣ𐭩 ໒꒱
wireless phone charger
charging cable
id
student id (discounts in shops etc)
travel cards/passes
wallet
change
house keys
water/some kind of drink
extra layer or room to remove extra layer
claw clip, hair ties
stain remover wipes
pen and small notepad
coin pouch
random ꒰ঌ ᡣ𐭩 ໒꒱
mini umbrella
sunglasses
nail file and scissors
tea bags
hair pins
mini fan
crystals/lucky charms
thank you for reading angels! if youd be interested in a more school/uni focused what to keep in your bag feel free to let me know!
love, m.
#girlblogging#girlhood#becoming that girl#just girly things#it girl#it girl energy#glow up#pink pilates princess#that girl#clean girl#bag#whats in my bag
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Guide to Drying Herbs
Drying herbs is a simple practice, and there are several methods to choose from depending on the type of herb and your desire use. Here's how I dry my herbs:
1. Drying on Newspaper
This method works well for larger leaves and herbs that don’t need to be hung.
Lay the herbs flat on a clean sheet of newspaper in a single layer.
Place the newspaper in a dry, well-ventilated area away from direct sunlight.
Turn the herbs occasionally to ensure even drying.
Once the herbs are dry and crisp to the touch, they’re ready for storage.
2. Hanging Herbs Upside Down
Perfect for longer herbs, like rosemary, lavender or thyme, that can be tied together.
Gather small bunches of herbs and secure them with a cord or string.
Wrap the herbs loosely in a breathable cloth, like cheesecloth or muslin. This helps them air freely while catching any small leaves or flowers that may shed during the drying process.
Hang the bunches upside down in a cool, dry place with good airflow. Avoid direct sunlight, as it can degrade the color and potency.
Once the herbs are completely dry (they should crumble easily), remove the leaves or store them as they are.
I do this with fresh lavender that I put in my closet as shown in the picture.
3. Pressing Herbs
This method is ideal for preserving delicate leaves or flowers for decorative purposes or rituals.
Place the herbs between sheets of paper (such as parchment or regular printer paper).
Insert the paper into a thick book, ensuring the herbs are spread flat and evenly.
Place additional books or a weight on top to press them.
Leave them for 1–2 weeks, checking occasionally for dryness.
4. Drying Small Petals
For small, delicate petals or flowers, a rule bag works wonders.
Place the petals or flowers in a breathable rule bag (such as a mesh or cotton drawstring bag).
Hang the bag in a dry, ventilated area.
Shake the bag gently every few days to prevent clumping and to ensure even drying.
General Tips for Best Results
Use Breathable Cloths: Wrapping your herbs or laying them on a breathable cloth allows air to circulate freely, preventing mold while catching any small leaves or flowers that shed during the drying process.
Timing: Dry herbs as soon as possible after harvesting to retain their potency and fragrance.
Environment: Choose a dry, cool, and ventilated area to prevent mold or mildew.
Labeling: If drying multiple herbs, label them to avoid confusion.
Storage: Once dried, store your herbs in airtight containers away from sunlight and moisture.
Using Dried Herbs
Always check if the plant is safe for use before collecting it. Do not make tea or touch anything with unknown properties. Always clean your plants before drying.
Once your herbs are dried, you can use them for teas, rituals, incense, or other magical and practical purposes. Always remember to respect and honor the plants you've harvested by using them mindfully.
#green witch#spellcraft#witchcraft#paganism#wicca#witches#grimoire#book of shadows#witch community#beginner witch#witchblr#witch tips#herbs#plants#witch herbs#nature witch#traditional witchcraft#witchy things
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James being a big bear of a boyfriend and always just like lifting u up so easily to hug and sit on his lap and even tho u hate when anyone else does it he’s so BEEFY that you’re fine with him doing it
Yessssss I'm not much of a physical touch person irl but James I would allow
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 847 words
Sirius is trying to follow Remus’ example and focus on the puzzle, but his eyes keep flitting up to you worriedly. You’ve monopolized the couch, laying flat with a hand cast over your eyes and your mouth pinched in obvious discomfort. Sirius had tried rubbing your leg and Remus had offered you tea, but they’d both given up when the attention only seemed to worsen your mood. Remus suggested they work on the puzzle while you rest (not Sirius’ favorite activity, but forced upon him because it keeps him quiet) and now they’re both simply trying not incur your wrath.
“Quit looking at me,” you growl without opening your eyes.
In Sirius’ case, not doing a very good job.
“Fine, sheesh,” he says, and you press your lips together like you’re restraining yourself from snapping at him.
You cringe when the door opens, every line of you pulling taut. James is all smiles as he tosses his gym bag to the floor with a heavy thump. “Hello, my loves!” His voice is a decibel short of booming, but it softens when he sees you on the couch. “Oh, sorry, is she napping?”
Remus shakes his head, lips pursed as he watches your hand tighten over your eyes. “Headache,” he explains quietly.
“Oh, I’m sorry lovie.” James reroutes from the kitchen, heading for you. Sirius tenses. “How bad is it?”
“Prongs,” Sirius whispers urgently, “don’t—”
But James has already lifted you, one hand under your knees and another supporting your back as he moves you smoothly from your chosen position of rest and into his lap. He makes it look like nothing, which is the first offense (Sirius isn’t sure which of you he’s more jealous of), but the second is that you let him. Sirius and Remus have both looked up in alarm, waiting for a biting protest that doesn’t come. Instead, you remove your hand from your face, burying in it James’ brawny shoulder instead.
“Bad,” you grumble, but your tone lacks the venom you’d spat at Sirius a moment before.
James coos like he’s got a kitten in his lap instead of a viper, bringing his considerable arms around you. His palm cups the back of your neck, kneading gently at the tensed muscles there. “Where does it hurt, darling?”
“Everywhere.”
“By your eyes?”
“No.”
He hums, brows furrowing as he works steadily at your neck. You’ve gone nearly lax in his arms, trusting him to hold you up as you slump against his front. “Have you been drinking water?”
“It’s not that.” Some of the irritation is back in your tone, Sirius notices, but it’s been markedly softened for James. “I had tons of water this morning.”
“Probably a tension headache then, yeah?” He looks to Remus, who nods. The quiet boy looks as dumbstruck as Sirius feels.
James moves his grip to your sides and lifts you again, rearranging his legs to get more comfortable before placing you back in his lap. He places a hand on each side of your head, thumbs pushing into your temples and rubbing in slow, soothing circles. You begin to look like you might fall asleep.
“This is so unfair,” Sirius hisses to Remus.
“He has a power,” Remus admits weakly, “which transcends understanding.”
“Do you want some tea?” James murmurs to you after a while. Sirius’ eyes have gotten stuck watching the movement of his forearms, and he snaps them reluctantly back up.
You hum, uncertain but definitely considering it. Behind you, Remus throws up his hands. James sees him and smiles, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.
“I’m getting the sense this isn’t the first cup you’ve been offered,” he says, looking immensely entertained.
You sigh, but even that sounds pleasurable as his big thumbs drill diligently into your temples. “Yeah, but I just wanted to be left alone.”
Remus and Sirius exchange a look. You seem perfectly fine with company now.
“Don’t be silly,” James chides lightly, “a warm drink will make you feel better. Remus, love, would you be so kind as to make her a cup?”
“Sure.” His voice is gruff, but then you murmur a quiet thanks, Rem and Sirius actually sees the moment his boyfriend’s heart turns to mush. “No problem,” he says, softer now.
“Attagirl.” James’ hand drops to give your shoulder a squeeze, his bicep flexing slightly with the movement. Christ, Sirius might have to fake a headache later, if this is the sort of treatment those receive. “Drink your tea and then we’ll get you to bed, yeah? You can sleep the rest of this off.”
“You know, I offered to carry her to bed earlier,” Sirius says, still slightly bitter, “and she told me very clearly to fuck off.”
You don’t sound so much exasperated now as exhausted. “Siri, when you carrying me doesn’t involve setting me down every five steps for a break, then we’ll talk.”
James’ laugh surprises both of you, and he apologizes hastily for jostling you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before resuming his ministrations. You don’t seem all that upset about it.
#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders one shot#poly!marauders oneshot#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#the marauders#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#hp marauders
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can you imagine meeting ghost off-duty. no mask—just a regular man, in a bar close to where you’ve just moved. the two of you begin talking, don’t swap anything about the other, no work talk, just one weekend—one night, really. all nail scratching, teeth digging down into his shoulder to stop your new neighbours complaining. then he leaves, enjoys one mug of tea before his boots are on and he kisses your cheek goodbye.
you don’t think about him.
not outside of the ache he’s left between your legs and the marks that’ll take time to heal. you stuff it into a basket in your mind as you begin packing your bag, heading to the place where you’ll be meeting a new team—become the latest recruit to something more off the record, than on.
you’re sized up, and you size them up back. don’t linger on the pair of eyes behind a balaclava that digs into you with more venom than gratitude. you exchange no words outside of the necessary, completely keeping yourself to yourself where you can—not wanting to miss out on this, an opportunity not handed so often.
so it isn’t until you’re back from the desert, removing sand from wherever it has tried to find a home, that you see your Lt hovering in the doorway. sliding the fabric up, exposing a pair of lips that make you frown, before he speaks.
and his tone isn’t gruff, isn’t as low or as formal as you’ve heard through the radio. if anything, it’s reminiscent of a voice from weeks ago, one buried into your ear, one burned and soldered to your skin as you took and you took and you took.
you get confirmation it’s him when he makes a comment, one that makes you ice cold and full of fire all at once. before now, you’d never thought that “nice work out there” would have the same effect on you as “you can take it”.
sorry, not sorry to @ghostaholics who I woke up with this thought hahahah.
#cod ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#Simon ghost riley x reader#Simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader#ghost x reader#cod ghost#simon riley x reader#this doesn’t mean I’m back - I just had to get the rot out#cod x reader#ghost cod mw2#cod mw2 ghost#simon ghost riley
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can i request a girl flirting with spencer but he is too oblivious to understand she is flirting (bc of course he doesnt) so he keeps talking to her, and reader (they are dating) is FURIOUS and he is sooooo confused. i think it could be funny 🤭
post prison!spencer x sunshine!reader are out with the team when spencer gets sidetracked, you don't like that he is. 1.2k
You’re frowning into your long island iced tea. The entire team can see it and Luke is itching to make a comment. He also knows that despite your sunny disposition you might kick his shin under the table.
“You could always just go bring him back here,” Matt says, sipping his beer as he watches you burn holes into Spencer’s back.
You’re not jealous, no matter what any of them might imply.
“He’s a big boy. If he doesn’t want her flirting with him, he can just leave.”
JJ laughs into her drink, Penelope rolls her eyes as she chews her cherry and Emily shakes her head at you.
Spencer likely will remove himself from the girl if he doesn’t want to be flirted with- but since he’s been there for the last twenty minutes you suspect he isn’t as into you as they’ve all suggested.
It was silly of you to let your heart be captured by a man fresh out of prison you suppose. Your frown worsens at your thoughts, Spencer isn’t the ‘lead a girl on,’ type. Still you feel the hot and heavy sting of jealousy and something bitter settle in your chest.
“He’s still a bit awkward about this,” You roll your eyes this time. They all talk of Spencer like he’s a thirty three year old virgin. He isn’t. You know he isn’t because Penelope had informed you that he’d been in serious relationships before.
Not that you’d wanted to know.
When Spencer comes back, you’re itching for a game of cards and the rest of your team is itching for some sort of reaction from either of you.
It’s been clear over the ten months you’ve been working at the BAU, that you and Spencer have begun to orbit each other. You’re like Pluto and Charon. You bring each other breakfast, make each other’s coffee, you were even almost halfway in his lap on the jet the other day ‘doing crosswords.’ You really were doing crosswords.
They suspect you’re both just too oblivious (you) and frightened (Spencer) to do anything about the feelings everyone can see you have.
“Sorry I took so long,” though he says the words loud enough for the entire group to hear, his eyes are on you.
“Did you at least get her number?” You kick Luke in the shin then, earning a smirk from the man across from you. Maybe if you put salt in his protein powder he’ll relent.
“What?” Spencer asks, sipping his rum and coke. He brushes a curl of hair from his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.
You reach into your bag and pull out your sparkly deck of cards and shuffle them. “Oh are we doing readings?” Penelope asks, you don’t trust the peachiness of her tone.
“The girl from the bar.” Matt clarifies for Spencer, whose eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.
“Why would I get her number?” JJ looks at you with a, ‘do you see what we’re saying,’ look but you only shake your head.
You don’t care if Spencer did get her number or if he’d been flirting back with her. You’re not dating. You don’t care. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.
“She was flirting with you man.” Luke says and Spencer shrugs, leaning into you as Penelope takes the cards from you. They’re only playing cards, but she’s been trying to get you to read them as well as she reads tarot.
“Are you okay?” Spencer whispers in favour of a reply to Luke, eyebrows knitted together when you shrug him out of your space.
“Fine.” Emily chuckles which only worsens Spencer’s frown.
“Hey, what about this song?” JJ says, the entire group dispersing. Penelope is the last to go, leaving the ace of hearts face up on the table.
“What’s wrong?” Spencer asks, hand reaching for your chin. You shake your head from his hand. Spencer feels burned.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I’m just enjoying a night out with my friends.” You make it a point to stress the word friends and Spencer almost flinches.
“I don’t believe you.” he says the words plainly. “Are you upset with me?” You turn to face him then, face stony, an expression on your face Spencer has never seen. Other than that day you were on the phone with your brother.
“Why would I be upset with you? You’re just the clueless thirty three year old everyone thinks can’t tell when a pretty girl at the bar is flirting with him.” Your words are hushed and low, your eyes dark in the poorly lit booth.
Spencer sighs, his shoulders reaching his ears before falling. “You’re jealous?”
You grumble, no point in hiding what is so very clear. “You flirt with me for ten months, and then you spend almost thirty minutes letting a stranger put their hands all over you and come back here like you didn’t know she was flirting? If you just wanted the attention you could’ve said so from the beginning, Spencer Reid.”
There’s no ‘Doctor,’ before his name that lets him know you’re being playful or funny. No, your words and your expression are the iciest thing he thinks he’s ever witnessed. You sound hurt more than anything and that makes Spencer’s heart crack right down the middle.
His hand reaches for your chin, turning you to face him. “I didn’t just want attention, you know that,”
You roll your eyes, “Oh do I?” Spencer likes this attitude on you, he can’t even pretend to lie to himself. He just doesn’t like the way you doubt him.
“I like you. You know I like you. Yes, the woman at the bar was flirting with me, but the conversation was being redirected. She was flirting with me till I told her I wasn’t interested and that I had someone waiting for me.”
You don’t believe him, “Took you twenty eight minutes to do that?”
Spencer smiles then, pressing his forehead into yours. “You’re worked up, sweet girl.” The nickname settles you a little. “It took me a little to catch on. I’ll admit it takes some getting used to from total strangers. But I didn’t enjoy her flirting with me if that’s what you’re really asking.”
Spencer’s thumb presses into the slight divot in your chin, your eyes stuck on his as he refuses to break eye contact. “I only want you to flirt with me.”
Your breath hitches, Spencer smiles. “You let her touch you.” He laughs at how petulant you sound, he knows your grip on your anger is slipping.
“Am I supposed to push her hands off me?” You nod and Spencer lets his nose run along your jaw. “You’re too much.”
Spencer doesn’t leave your side the rest of the night.
#spencerreid#spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x black reader#spencer reid x sunshine!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid x y/n#dr spencer reid
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the wedding of simon riley [ ghost ]
WARNINGs: mentions of abusive injuries, abusive domestic behaviour
Being in the SAS was a lonely practice, well, that’s how Simon Riley saw it. Though, his existence was one of violence and he didn’t want his family being dragged into another volatile situation or any other innocent soul.
That’s why he was alone, that’s why he didn’t date anyone and that wasn’t going to change. Until it did…
A shout, “He’s got my bag!” And he started running after the vandal, catching him quickly and with precision. Face mask up as was his hood. Racing steps behind him… and there you were, your hands scraped and tights ripped at the knees. “Thank you so much…” Your eyes sparkled almost at him, curious what your saviour’s face looked like.
He simply handed you the bag- you noticed gloves… not paying much attention, “It’s nothin’…” Gruff and unbending, you could tell then that he was a hard ass as he turned his back to you.
“Lemme get you a coffee or something?” The stranger’s head shook, walking away. His eyes a stark contrast when your hand wrapped his tattooed wrist. Almost as if it were a trigger point and you removed it as soon as you had touched him. “You didn’t have to get the bag… please let me get you a coffee, a tea… a vodka?” A teeny tiny smile beneath the mask.
That’s how you ended up in a tea shop, in completed silence. Was he trying to scare you off? Maybe but you happened to be very persuasive and chatty. His worst nightmare.
Finding out his name was Simon, and he was in the military. And he didn’t do well in social situations, or at least with you. Speaking enough to realise he didn’t have many acquaintances let alone friends. Probably of his own doing…
Taken aback when he asked to walk you home- to avoid anymore attempted muggings. Not normal for you to let someone do that but he didn’t have to return the bag. “This is me…” Pointing to the house, “Thank you for all your help, Si-,” Then your red door opened, revealing the familiar figure.
“You were gone longer than you said…” The tone was wasn’t one of worry or concern, Simon knew that feeling in his gut. But it was your life, and he was probably wrong. So he waved it off. “Who’s this, babe? He bothering you?” That instinct in Simon flaring more. Especially the crazed look in his eyes.
Until he looked to you; bubbly and extroverted while on your own, now a husk. Silent and woven inwards. That sparkle dimmed. “I got mugged… he got my purse back for me…” You couldn’t even reach Simon’s eye line. While fists clenched at your partner’s sides.
“She’s helpless, mate. I always clear up her messes, thanks,” Simon had never despised being patted on the shoulder as much as he did in that moment. But what had him more on edge was how he never noticed bruises on your wrists, and how forcibly your boyfriend held you around the shoulders and was leading you up the stone walkway to the normal house.
Hearing a shout and then a slap when that door closed. Simon had a choice… leave and pretend like you never existed… or what he did next.
Not bothering to knock, finding you on the floor- tears streaking down the face you held. Before gunning for your partner, a perfectly taken frame photo crashing to the wooden boards as his large frame smashed your partner into the wall. “I’ve met men like you before… you are going to pack a bag and leave Y/N alone…” That was until a small hand held Simon’s shoulder, his eyes softened.
“Dave, just leave… go to Chris’… just go…” You didn’t know if you’d had the strength to do that, but having a military man beside you made it easy as he held your partner against a wall. Then Simon dropped him, shattered glass at his palms. “I will call the police, David… I’ll deliver your shit to your mums.” Time slowed for you while moving too fast and David was gone. His car unblocked your driveway with music blaring down the street.
Managing to lock the door- letting out a sigh… Feeling drained, “Thank you…” Is all you mustered, before collapsing into a flood of tears. Trying to splutter out an apology, but this relative stranger just stroked your hair letting you lean against him. Thoughts racing, never finding a moments peace in four years of being with him. But able to find a speck of hope in a man you had only met about four hours ago… “You can go, you’ve done more than enough good deeds for the day…”
Standing up from the sofa, heading through to the kitchen. The kettle clicked, Simon was impressed you didn’t pick yourself on the vodka you’d offered him earlier in the day. Instead he found you, elbows finding balance on the countertop.
You asked him to the stay in the house- maybe trauma clouded your judgement. You slept in the guest bedroom, not capable of blocking out the atrocities that occurred in your own. With a stranger downstairs.
When you woke up, the glass had been clean up and the smell of breakfast wafted. Mask still covering his nose and lips. “I thought you’d have left. You didn’t have to cook, bless your heart…”
Something knocked Simon from his daydream. The only face he wanted to see on the daily right in front of him. Forgetting where he was for a split second, his hands holding your tiny ones in comparison. “Simon Riley, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Part of him focused that his Captain was officiating his wedding, while all of him focused on you. The woman he hadn’t left, the person who had remained loyal to him when he came home bloodied and dirty.
Every second of each mission, he wished he could have you in his arms. Even when you weren’t his to hold. Fearing that you’d have forgotten about him in two months, only for you to turn up at his apartment with some chocolate and a ‘welcome home’ card.
Each and every time he returned back in British soil.
You didn’t complain about the terrors he shouted at in his nightmares- holding him when the muttering started and pulling him awake. Never judging him for the pills he swallowed to balance him out again. Simon looked down on himself while you only ever looked up to him.
No attempt to lift the mask until he did it himself. You’d been friends after that first incident for two years until you made the move. And six months after you were stood at the alter in front of not even ten people.
The people he felt comfortable with: his squad members, his mum, his brother and sister in law… whatever family you were close with enough to know what laid under that mask; a cheeky grin whenever he taunted you or… did other things to you…
There would be no announcement in the local newsletter on marriages and funeral directories, no posts on social media. But you knew that when met him… nothing high-key.
With all that in mind, you looking angelic… just wanting to kiss you… “I do.” And before Price could speak, his lips were on yours. Cheering from your nearest and dearest. His hands held your growing stomach, holding his future.
“I love you,” Foreheads together, smiling while you knew Johnny was taking cheeky snaps of you two. “Mrs Riley…”
————
masterlist
#simon ghost x you#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost#ghost smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#cod modern warfare#cod#cod x reader#cod mw2#cod smut#smut#cod mw x reader#cod mwii#cod mw3#call of duty
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How do you take your tea?
I enjoy sweet tea! But typically only the kind my family makes, restaurants just can't get it quite right
#how to make sweet tea/southern style sweet tea#fill a bowl with 2 quarts water. add 3 tea bags (black tea)#(idk how big the tea bags are. sorry if youre using leaves or different portion sizes)#microwave the bowl for 10 minutes#get your tea jug (a gallon. im p sure) add 2 cups of sugar#once the microwave is done. pour your tea into the jug. remove teabags from the bowl and fill it up with 2 more quarts of water#do not microwave this one! just add the water straight to the pitcher#stir until combined & all sugar is dissolved#leave in the fridge overnight#enjoy! you now have a gallon of sweet tea to last 1 day#ask#:>
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Mysterious Circumstances - N.R
P: Serial Killer!Ni-ki X FemReader!
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Murder, Corruption, Blood/Injury, Deceit, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Jealousy, Attempted Murder, everybody say poor jiung.
Synopsis: When you move into a new apartment, your mysterious neighbor Ni-ki catches your attention—but so does a dangerous murderer with an unsettling obsession with you. As your friend Jiung warns you that Ni-ki may be hiding secrets, you're forced to question who you can trust.
Wordcount: 29k
a/n: rewatching dexter morgan now cause why not? anyways enjoy and feel free to leave feedback and reblog <3
--
In this economy, it was nearly impossible to find an affordable place as a student trying to juggle both work and school. But somehow, luck had tipped in your favor, and you managed to land a tiny student apartment. Sure, it was a bit removed from the city center, and the bus route wasn’t always reliable, but it was yours.
Moving day had been chaotic, but a few neighbors were kind enough to offer help as you dragged your furniture and bags inside. Over the next few days, you got to know a handful of them. There was Mrs. Han, an older woman who always had a story to share and a recipe for every occasion, and there were two other students who, like you, often looked like they were running on pure caffeine and sheer willpower.
The only person you hadn’t met was your next-door neighbor. You'd actually thought the apartment beside yours was empty; the place was as quiet as a graveyard, and you'd never heard a single noise from it. It isn’t until Mrs. Han brings you a steaming bowl of her homemade stew that you learn the truth.
“Ah, dear,” she says between sips of the tea you made for her, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You must meet the young man next door! Such a nice fellow, but he’s been away. Family in Japan, you know?”
Her enthusiasm catches you off guard. You chuckle lightly, trying to play it cool. “Sure, sounds nice,” you say, but a hint of curiosity creeps in.
“Oh, he’s so handsome!” she insists, her voice laced with genuine fondness. “You two would make such a lovely couple!”
You pause, your laughter dying in your throat. “Thanks, but I’m not looking for anyone,” you explain, the weight of your recent breakup hanging over you like a dark cloud.
Mrs. Han`s face falls slightly, but her optimism doesn’t waver. “That’s unfortunate... You would have liked him!”
“What’s his name?” you ask, playing along, if only to satisfy your own curiosity.
“Nishimura Ri-ki,” she replies, her smile returning as she savors the sound of his name, as if it were a cherished secret.
You nod, storing that name away for a later moment when you might need it, a faint ember of intrigue igniting within you.
So, you settled in, figuring it’d be a while before you’d have a chance to meet him, if ever.
But one night, as you were deep into your notes, trying to make sense of a mountain of study material, you heard it—the unmistakable click of the door next door opening, then closing softly. Footsteps, light and deliberate, moved across the floor, and you caught the sound of muffled words in Japanese.
There was a rustling, the faint scrape of what sounded like heavy bags being set down, and then silence. After a moment, a new thought clicked into place—your elusive neighbor had finally returned.
Curiosity tugged at you, but you hesitated. It wasn’t as though you could just walk over and knock. He’d likely just gotten back from a long trip and would want to settle in. But as you listened to the familiar sounds of unpacking through the wall, you wondered what he was like. Maybe he'd be just another busy student like you, or maybe… someone you wouldn’t expect.
And one morning, as you’re hurrying down the hall, you finally see him.
He’s standing outside his door, tall—very tall—with dark hair falling into his eyes as he fumbles sleepily with his keys, muttering something under his breath. There's an effortless, almost careless confidence in the way he stands, the kind that draws your attention without even trying. When he finally looks up, his eyes meet yours, and the old woman’s words echo in your head: handsome.
He has a striking face, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and piercing eyes that seem both focused and detached. His build is slim yet lean, and he’s dressed in a way that’s understated but impossibly stylish. It’s hard not to notice; there’s a refined edge to him that somehow makes the early-morning grogginess look deliberate, like it’s just part of his charm.
At first glance, he seems… intimidating. The intensity in his gaze catches you off guard, and for a moment, you find yourself frozen, unsure if you should look away or say something.
“Ah, you must be the new neighbor,” he says, his voice smooth and warm, carrying a casual friendliness that makes you feel as if you’re talking to someone you’ve known for ages.
You nod, feeling a slight, inevitable awkwardness. “Yeah, that’s me. Nice to finally meet you… Ri-ki, right?”
He grins, nodding. “That’s right. But you can call me Ni-ki—that’s what most people use.”
You offer him your name in return, and he repeats it softly, as if testing it, making sure he gets it just right. There’s a faint trace of an accent in his voice, a subtle lilt that adds to his charm.
“Nice name,” he says, giving you a small, genuine smile. His smiles are understated, almost reserved, yet they have a sincerity that leaves an impression. And just for a second, his gaze lingers on you—curious, almost as if he’s sizing you up. You catch it, but brush it off as nothing.
“If you ever need anything, just knock,” he says, leaning back with a quiet ease. “I’m still getting back into the swing of things here, but I’m around.”
With that, he gives a casual wave and slips into his apartment, leaving you alone in the hallway. You stand there, still feeling the warmth of his voice, and can’t help but wonder if the old lady had been right about him after all.
In the days that followed, you found yourself crossing paths with Ni-ki more frequently, mostly in the early mornings when you were both heading out. There was an ease to these encounters—a nod, a brief exchange of “good mornings,” maybe a small smile from him. He had a quiet way of being friendly, but you noticed a certain mystery to his routine. While you only ever seemed to run into him during the day, at night, you’d often hear the door to his apartment open and close. You figured he had some job with late hours, something that kept him out through the night.
One morning, though, your usual passing-by turned a little strange.
As you were locking your door, Ni-ki appeared down the hallway, carrying a bag slung over one shoulder. He stopped in front of his door, setting the bag down to dig for his keys. Just as he was fishing them out, a roll of duct tape slipped out and rolled across the floor, stopping neatly at your feet.
You crouched down, picking it up, and turned it over in your hand, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment as you handed it back. “You dropped this.”
Ni-ki blinked, then gave you a soft, appreciative smile as he took it from you. “Thanks,” he said, tucking the tape back into his bag without another word, and slipping into his apartment with a nod. You couldn’t quite place it, but the encounter left you feeling slightly unsettled, even if you brushed it off as nothing.
With a sigh, you headed down to the street, making your way to the building’s parking lot. You hated this route, especially at night, with the narrow alleyways and strewn trash. A few small shops lined the way, and there was always a sense of something lingering in the shadows. But it was the only path to the lot, so you resigned yourself to walking it, tightening your grip on your bag.
Halfway there, you paused, catching sight of a familiar sight on the wall outside a laundromat: a collection of missing person posters. You’d noticed them when you first moved in—rows of faces staring back at you, each one accompanied by details of last sightings and worried pleas from family members. It had unsettled you from the beginning, so much so that you avoided coming home too late. And when you did, you always clutched your pepper spray tightly in your bag.
Today, however, something different caught your eye. There was a new poster on the wall, freshly pinned beside the others. The picture was of a young woman, her smile frozen in a snapshot of happier days. Below the photo, it said she had last been seen three days ago, near her home. A chill ran down your spine as you stared at it.
You turned away quickly, heart racing as you hurried towards the parking lot, relief flooding over you as you finally got to your car and locked the doors.
--
It was late afternoon when you returned home from work, your feet aching as you climbed the stairs. Just as you rounded the corner toward your apartment, you spotted one of your neighbors standing in the hallway. He looked a little worn out himself, books and papers spilling out of his bag, but he straightened up and offered a friendly smile when he noticed you approaching.
“Hey! You’re the new neighbor, right?” he asked.
You nodded, and he introduced himself as Jiung, one of the other students who shared the floor with you. You exchanged a few polite comments about school, life in the building, and eventually, you found yourself laughing at his stories about late-night study sessions gone wrong. “Hey, we should study together sometime!” Jiung suggested enthusiastically. “I could use a study buddy to keep me on track.”
You were about to respond when the door to Ni-ki’s apartment opened, and he stepped out, a bag slung over his shoulder. He looked like he was on his way somewhere, but he paused when he saw you and Jiung talking. There was no emotion in his gaze as he glanced at Jiung, who greeted him with a friendly nod. “Hey, Ni-ki! How’s it going?”
Ni-ki gave the briefest nod in response, eyes cool and unreadable. It wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but there was a noticeable distance. However, when you spoke up, greeting him with a casual “Hey, Ni-ki,” his whole demeanor shifted. His gaze softened as it landed on you, and the corners of his mouth curved into a faint smile.
“Hey,” he replied, voice warm, and he seemed to hold your gaze for a beat longer than necessary. “Headed out for a bit,” he added, lifting the strap of his bag as if in explanation. “I’ll see you around.”
“See you,” you replied, catching that small, almost private smile he gave before he turned and headed down the hallway.
Once he was gone, you turned back to Jiung, your curiosity piqued. “What’s he like? Ni-ki, I mean. He seems… quiet.”
Jiung shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, he’s not much of a talker. I’ve seen him around, but he usually keeps to himself. I’m surprised he smiled at you. That’s not something I’ve seen him do.”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? He seems nice enough.”
“Nice? Sure,” Jiung chuckled, a hint of disbelief in his tone. “Just… mysterious, I guess.”
You couldn’t help but shrug, your thoughts lingering on the way Ni-ki had looked at you. It was easy to let your mind wander about him, but you shook it off, needing to focus on your own routine.
“Anyway, I should get going,” you said, unlocking your door and stepping inside. “But I’d love to study together soon!”
Jiung waved goodbye, and you kicked off your shoes, letting the familiar comfort of your apartment wash over you. After tossing your bag onto the couch, you headed straight for the bathroom, eager to wash away the day.
After your shower, you were heading to the kitchen to make dinner, the sudden sound of your doorbell caught you off guard. Peeking through the peephole, you spotted Jiung standing in the hallway, looking cheerful and a bit expectant.
Curiosity piqued, you opened the door. “Hey! What’s up?”
“Hey! I was just wondering if you wanted to grab dinner at that little diner down the street,” he offered, his enthusiasm contagious. “I hear their burgers are amazing!”
The idea was tempting, and you found yourself smiling. “Sure! That sounds great.”
Within moments, you were both strolling down the street, the evening air pleasantly cool against your skin. Jiung chatted easily, sharing amusing stories from his day that had you laughing.
Once you settled into a cozy booth at the diner, you couldn’t help but appreciate how at ease Jiung made you feel. As you perused the menu, you turned the conversation toward him. “So, what do you do for work?” you asked, genuinely curious.
His eyes lit up as he leaned back, a grin on his face. “I work in criminology.”
You blinked, taken aback. “Wait, really? I knew you studied crime, but I didn’t realize you had a job in it!”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” he replied, a hint of pride in his voice. “I’m mostly in the back right now, just filling out papers and doing administrative stuff. But with everything going on—the people disappearing—I’ve been able to look into some of the cases.”
You leaned in, intrigued. “What do you think about it? Do you really think they’ll find the people?”
Jiung’s expression shifted, a seriousness replacing the earlier lightheartedness. “Honestly? I think they’ll find most of them in a ditch somewhere… dead,” he said, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.
A chill ran down your spine, the earlier comfort now tinged with unease. “That’s… grim,” you said quietly, feeling a knot in your stomach at the thought. “Do you think they’re all connected?”
He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s hard to say. There are definitely patterns in cases like this, but a lot of it just feels random. It’s the uncertainty that gets to you. You never know what’s going to happen next.”
You both fell into a contemplative silence, the diner buzzing around you, the laughter of other patrons fading into the background as the weight of the conversation settled in.
“Let’s change the topic,” you suggested, attempting to lighten the mood. “What’s your favorite kind of burger?”
Jiung’s expression brightened at your attempt to shift the conversation. “Oh, definitely a classic cheeseburger! You can’t go wrong with a juicy patty and melted cheese,” he said, his enthusiasm returning as he leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “How about you? What’s your go-to?”
You laughed, relieved at the change in tone. “Hard to say!”
He nodded “Well we should totally do a burger night sometime, try out different places around here.”
“I’m in! I’ve been wanting to explore more of the area,” you replied, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect of more outings together.
Just then, the waitress arrived to take your order, and you both made your selections, sharing a few more laughs as Jiung recounted a funny story from his work. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and as your food arrived, you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company.
With each bite of your burger, you felt more at ease. Jiung was a great conversationalist, effortlessly switching from light-hearted jokes to more serious topics, never lingering too long on any one subject.
After finishing your meal, you leaned back in your seat, satisfied. “That was amazing! I’m definitely coming back here,” you said, glancing at Jiung.
“Right? It’s a hidden gem,” he agreed, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “So, what else do you like to do when you’re not buried in schoolwork?”
You took a moment to think, then smiled. “I love camping with friends. It’s a nice break from everything.”
“Camping, huh? That sounds awesome! I haven’t been in ages,” he said, his face lighting up. “I’d love to join you guys sometime if you ever need an extra hand.”
“Absolutely!” you replied.
Eventually, you realized how late it had gotten. With a reluctant sigh, you reached for your phone to check the time. “Wow, we should probably head back. I have class early in the morning,” you said, feeling a slight twinge of disappointment at the thought of the night ending.
“Yeah, I should get back too. I have some work to finish up,” Jiung replied, but there was a hint of reluctance in his voice as well.
When you reached your building, you turned to Jiung with a smile. “Thanks for dinner, Jiung. I had a great time!”
“Me too! We definitely need to do this again,” he replied, his smile wide and genuine.
You waved goodbye to Jiung, the warmth of the evening still buzzing in your chest as you stepped into the building. The comforting familiarity of your apartment awaited you, and you closed the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment to savor the afterglow of a good night.
After dropping your bag onto the couch, you moved through the small space, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
As you got ready for bed, your mind wandered back to Jiung’s laughter and the easy way he’d made you feel. You smiled at the thought of him, picturing the way he’d animatedly shared stories, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.
You brushed your teeth and slipped into your pajamas, the familiar routine comforting you as you settled into bed. As you pulled the covers up, a sense of sleepiness enveloped you, and you closed your eyes, allowing the events of the day to fade into the background.
Meanwhile, just on the other side of the wall, Ni-ki stood silently in his dimly lit bedroom. The faint light of the street lamps outside illuminated the room, casting shadows on the wall that separated him from you. He was staring at that very wall, deep in thought.
Thoughts swirled in his mind, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of how drawn he was to you. The way you’d smiled at him earlier, your laughter echoing even in his thoughts, was intoxicating. There was something about you that felt different—refreshing and genuine. You captivated him in a way that made it hard to focus on anything else, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to truly know you. The longing to have you in his arms for himself coursed through him, an obsession that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.
As he stood there, he couldn’t help but realize how you had taken over his every thought since he had returned home. Every little interaction replayed in his mind, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke, the softness in your voice. He felt an urge to be closer to you, to share more than just a wall.
Unable to resist, he walked closer to the wall, his heart pounding in anticipation. At the edge of his room, he crouched down near a small hole, a remnant from when the building had been renovated. It was barely noticeable, easily missed by anyone else. But to him, it was a window into a world he yearned to explore.
Peering through the tiny opening, he felt a rush of emotions as he caught a glimpse of your bedroom. There you were, peacefully sleeping on your bed, the gentle rise and fall of your chest barely visible in the dim light. The sight struck him with an overwhelming sense of want. You looked so serene, completely unaware of his presence, and he felt a strange mix of admiration and longing wash over him.
For a moment, time stood still as he watched you, entranced by the vulnerability of the moment. The shadows danced around your figure, and he wished more than anything to reach out, to bridge the distance that lay between you. But he knew he couldn't—not yet.
As the seconds stretched into minutes, he began to feel his thoughts spiraling, sinking deeper into an obsession that had taken root faster than he’d ever anticipated. He felt restless, his mind racing with a relentless need to be closer to you, to make you truly his. His hands clenched into fists, and he tore his gaze away, feeling the tension pulse within him.
Pushing himself up, he took a steadying breath, trying to clear his mind. He grabbed his bag from the corner of his room, hastily slinging it over his shoulder as he headed for the door. The apartment felt stifling, as though the walls themselves were closing in on him. He needed air, space, somewhere to let his restless energy burn itself out.
As he stepped out into the cool night, the familiar darkness of the alleyways called to him, a place where he could blend into the shadows. He moved through the narrow streets with purpose, the muted sound of his footsteps swallowed by the thick silence of the night. His thoughts continued to circle back to you, and he struggled to shake the hold you had on him, the way you’d invaded his every thought.
The alleys, littered with discarded trash and the occasional flicker of a broken streetlight, felt like a fitting place for the storm brewing inside him. Ni-ki knew he’d have to confront these feelings eventually, to figure out what he wanted from you—or rather, what he was willing to do to have it.
--
The next morning, you woke up and began your usual routine. The sun barely peeked through the blinds, casting soft lines of light across your room as you stretched, pushing away the lingering sleepiness. After washing up and getting dressed, you wandered into the kitchen to start breakfast. You flipped on the TV on the counter, letting the morning news fill the quiet apartment.
But today’s news wasn’t the usual report of traffic and weather.
The screen flashed to a somber-faced anchor as she reported the story. “Breaking news this morning. Authorities have confirmed the discovery of several bodies in the nearby forest—those of individuals reported missing over the past few weeks.”
You froze, the toast forgotten in your hand.
“According to sources,” the anchor continued, her voice steady but grave, “all the victims were found in shallow graves scattered throughout the area. While police are withholding certain details of the investigation, it appears the victims suffered similar injuries before being disposed of.”
The camera cut to aerial shots of a dense, mist-shrouded forest, police cars dotting the dirt paths and officials gathering at the edge of the trees. Crime scene tape fluttered in the breeze, sectioning off parts of the forest where investigators combed the ground. The reporter’s voice droned on, but you barely heard the rest, caught in a mix of shock and unease.
Your mind flashed back to the rows of missing person posters in the alleyway, the faces staring back at you.
The broadcast shifted to interviews with shaken locals, expressing their horror and sorrow. You took a shaky breath and forced yourself to turn away from the TV, hoping to shake off the creeping fear that settled in. It was hard to believe this was happening so close to home—and to think that just last night, you'd felt safe, even happy.
You rubbed at your arms, trying to rid yourself of the unease. Part of you wanted to text Jiung, maybe even ask if he’d heard anything. After all, he’d told you just last night that he was beginning to work on some of the missing person cases. Maybe he’d have some answers… or at least a comforting word. But a new thought hit you, one that made your stomach turn—Jiung’s earlier words echoed back to you, cold and direct: they’ll probably find them in a ditch, dead somewhere.
With an effort, you shook it off, grabbing your bag and heading out, trying to focus on the day ahead.
As you stepped out of your apartment, the hallway felt unusually quiet, almost tense, as if it, too, held its breath in response to the morning's grim news. You glanced down the hall, half-expecting to see a few neighbors gathering, maybe exchanging words about the unsettling report. But it was empty, still, as though the building itself had absorbed the heaviness of what you’d just learned.
Making your way toward the elevator, you felt a pang of nervousness, and just as you were about to press the button, the sound of footsteps caught your attention, echoing from around the corner.
You turned and saw Ni-ki. He looked calm, almost unbothered, his expression as unreadable as ever. A hint of a small smile crept onto his face as he noticed you, his eyes flickering over you in that way that always seemed to linger just a beat too long.
“Morning,” he greeted, his voice low and casual.
“Morning,” you replied, trying to muster a steady smile.
“You okay?” he asked, his gaze a little sharper, as if he could sense something was off.
“Just… heard the news. They found the bodies of some of those missing people,” you said quietly, glancing down.
He nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful, as though he were considering the words carefully. “Yeah. It’s unsettling, isn’t it? This city’s not what it used to be.”
You nodded, a strange feeling settling over you. He was calm, too calm. But then again, maybe he was just better at masking his emotions.
“So, off to work?” he asked, his tone light, almost as if he were changing the subject intentionally.
“Yeah,” you said, feeling relieved to talk about something mundane, something far from the gruesome reality of the news. “I should get going.”
“Be careful out there,” he said, and his gaze lingered on you, that same unreadable intensity in his eyes. There was something in the way he looked at you, something that felt both protective and… something else you couldn’t quite name.
With a small nod, you turned and stepped into the elevator, feeling his gaze on you until the doors closed.
--
That evening, as you lay in bed, the feeling of unease crept back, refusing to let you rest.
You shifted beneath the covers, trying to find a comfortable position. It felt like the city was closing in on you, secrets lurking around every corner, even in your own building.
But finally, as exhaustion took its toll, your eyelids grew heavy, and you drifted off, slipping into a restless sleep.
The room around you blurred into shadows, and your dreams stirred, fragmented images of faces you didn’t recognize flashing across your mind. A faint sense of dread seeped into the dream, mingling with the strange silence of the hallways in your building. In your dream, you were walking down a dim corridor, the walls narrowing, pressing in closer with each step.
And then, somewhere in the distance, you heard a voice, low and almost familiar, calling your name.
You turned, but the hallway stretched endlessly, fading into darkness. You started to walk faster, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling, the sense of being watched creeping over you. Every now and then, you'd glimpse shadows flickering at the edge of your vision, but whenever you looked, there was nothing.
The voice grew closer, a deep, almost soothing tone that sent shivers down your spine. It was calling your name again, soft and persistent, like a lullaby pulling you deeper.
In the stillness, you felt a hand on your shoulder, gentle but firm. You spun around, and suddenly you weren’t in the hallway anymore—you were back in your bedroom, lying in bed, your heart pounding as you blinked at the familiar shadows. It took a moment to convince yourself you were truly awake, that whatever presence had been in your dreams was just that—a dream.
But as you stared up at the ceiling, trying to steady your breathing, you felt a lingering presence, as though someone had just left the room, watching you in silence.
The next day, after a long shift at work, you returned home, grateful to finally relax. Dropping your bag by the door, you slipped into something more comfortable and settled on the couch, absently flicking through channels as you tried to unwind.
You didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you stumbled upon a crime show rerun, its familiar theme music drawing you in. Without thinking, you leaned back, letting the sounds and scenes wash over you, instantly hooked by the storyline. The show delved into a detective's pursuit of a mysterious suspect, each piece of evidence drawing him closer to the truth—and closer to a chilling revelation.
As you watched, you couldn’t help but feel a strange, lingering tension, like the details were tugging at something buried in the back of your mind. Each time the show shifted to a dimly lit crime scene or the detective narrowed in on his suspicions, a shiver ran through you. The storyline was fictional, you reminded yourself, just a cleverly crafted script. But the suspense was so gripping, so real, that you could feel your pulse quicken with each reveal.
The episode built to a tense, nail-biting finale as the detective pieced together the last clues. With each passing moment, it became painfully clear that the killer had always been closer than anyone expected. As the scene unfolded, the detective arrived at a secluded cabin on the outskirts of town, where he confronted his best friend—the very friend who had been beside him through every twist and turn of the investigation. The friend tried to justify himself, a calm expression masking a chilling emptiness as he spoke about why he’d done it, how easy it had been to lie, to manipulate the detective into trusting him completely.
The camera closed in on the detective’s face, his expression a mixture of betrayal and horror. As the final credits rolled, the weight of that last revelation hung in the air, you realized you’d been sitting there with your legs tucked to your chest, entirely wrapped up in the drama. You exhaled, blinking as you pulled yourself back into the present. You got up, turning off the TV and glancing around the room, still feeling a faint tension prickling at the edges of your awareness.
You gave yourself a small shake, trying to laugh it off. It was just a TV show, after all. Nothing to get worked up over.
But as you walked toward your bedroom, preparing for bed, you couldn’t shake the faint echo of the show’s final line: “Sometimes, the people closest to us are the ones hiding the darkest secrets.”
You shivered, the weight of that line lingering with you as you slipped under the covers, feeling a strange, nagging unease as the room darkened around you.
--
The night was quiet, the air thick with an eerie stillness as the woman walked down the empty street. Her voice was soft but cheerful as she spoke on the phone, the distant warmth of her father's voice on the other end keeping her company. She laughed lightly, reassuring him, “I’ll be home soon, don’t worry. Just a few more blocks.”
Her voice echoed faintly down the road, but she didn’t notice the lurking shadows around her or the faint glint of the black van parked just a little too conveniently along her path. She was focused on her conversation, on the comfortable thoughts of home.
As she passed the van, a figure stepped from behind it, tall and cloaked in darkness, their features obscured by the smooth, black surface of a mask. In one swift movement, the figure lunged forward, a blade glinting under the dim streetlights. Before she could scream, the knife plunged into her back, silencing her words with a strangled gasp. Her phone clattered to the ground, her father’s voice calling her name desperately from the other end.
In one fluid motion, the figure hauled her up, opened the van door, and shoved her inside. The door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the still night.
The figure adjusted their mask, scanning the area, making sure no one had seen—only to freeze as they noticed a lone figure, a woman standing a short distance away, eyes wide with shock and horror. She’d seen everything.
The masked figure tilted their head, pointing toward her with a gloved hand. “Oh, hello there, sweetheart” they said, the voice disturbingly calm, almost playful.
The woman’s breath hitched, her hands trembling as she took a step back. She tried to scream, to turn and run, but terror had locked her in place. The figure began to move toward her, each step slow and deliberate, closing the distance in long, measured strides.
A strangled sound escaped her lips, and she finally turned, her feet stumbling over themselves as she bolted down the street, desperate for an escape. But her footsteps were matched, quicker, heavier, the figure gaining on her with chilling ease.
She didn’t make it far before she felt a hand clamp over her shoulder, yanking her back with brutal strength. Her scream was muffled as she was dragged backward, her last sight of the quiet street fading as she was pulled into the waiting darkness.
The next day, news broke of a grisly discovery—a woman’s body found stabbed multiple times in a dark alleyway. The details were still emerging, but there were hints of something more chilling: a second woman reported missing, suspected murdered.
The morning news report broke in as you settled into your seat for lunch at school, your friends gathered around the table, chatting and laughing. But the tone shifted as Ji-wong's voice rose above the clamor.
“Did you guys hear? They found a woman’s body in an alleyway last night,” she said, her face a mix of shock and disbelief. “She was stabbed multiple times. It’s all over the news.”
Your heart sank as you absorbed her words. You glanced at the TV mounted in the cafeteria, the screen flickering with images of the crime scene, police tape strung around the darkened alley, a crowd of reporters clamoring for details. The news anchor’s voice droned on, detailing the discovery.
You could hear your friends exchanging hushed whispers, their voices overlapping in concern and intrigue. “Can you believe it?” one of them exclaimed, shaking their head. “How could something like this happen here?”
Another chimed in, “It’s so scary. We walk these streets all the time!”
You remained quiet, a knot tightening in your stomach as you picked at your food. Your friends continued to discuss theories about the killer, sharing opinions about how to stay safe, but all you could focus on was the weight of the news.
Ji-wong glanced over at you, concern etched on her face. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked gently, sensing your quietness.
You nodded, forcing a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah, just… a lot to take in.”
She nodded, but you could see the worry linger in her gaze as the conversation shifted back to the details of the crime, leaving you lost in your thoughts.
After school, you and your friends made your way to Hyerin’s place, arms full of books and bags. Her apartment was warm and welcoming, instantly lifting the tense cloud. The group settled in, books sprawled across the coffee table as you attempted to study, though the conversation soon drifted to lighter topics.
Not long after, someone suggested ordering pizza, and before you knew it, the textbooks were forgotten as laughter filled the room, everyone relaxed and joking around. Between bites of pizza and bursts of laughter, time flew by, the clock on the wall ticking faster than you realized. By the time you glanced at it, it was well past midnight.
A slight unease settled over you as you checked the time again. “I should probably get going soon,” you said, not wanting to admit that the thought of walking home this late made you nervous.
But Hyerin just waved her hand, dismissing your concern. “Don’t worry about it! You can just stay here. We have extra blankets and space on the couch.”
Relieved, you nodded, grateful to avoid the long walk through the dark streets. “Thanks, Hyerin. I really didn’t want to be out after midnight.”
“Of course!” she said brightly. “I wouldn’t want to walk out there either. And besides, it’s more fun with you here.”
--
Ni-ki stared through the small hole, his gaze tracing over your empty room, irritation bubbling under his calm exterior. You weren’t home. The thought gnawed at him, and he found himself pacing across his apartment, restless. He glanced at the clock on the wall, each passing second heightening his frustration until he muttered a low curse, grabbing his bag before stepping out.
He paused outside your door, jaw clenched as he stared at it, mind racing. Just then, he heard footsteps, and when he looked up, Jiung was locking his own door. “Hey,” Jiung said casually, but Ni-ki's mind was racing with questions.
“Where’s Y/N?” Ni-ki asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, though he could feel the tension coiling inside him.
“Oh, she’s with a friend,” Jiung replied, shrugging as he continued on his way.
A spark of anger ignited in Ni-ki’s chest. Why did Jiung know where you were? Why did he have that information when Ni-ki did not? But he masked his irritation with indifference, taking a steadying breath, his expression smoothing into cold neutrality as he watched Jiung’s back disappear through the door. He waited a moment, then slipped out of the building behind him, falling into step at a distance.
The night air was crisp, brushing against his skin as he moved silently, slipping on a mask to cover the lower half of his face, fingers grazing the blade concealed in his bag. He kept his steps light, trailing Jiung with a practiced patience, biding his time.
But then, his gaze shifted to a young man walking toward them, absorbed in his phone, completely unaware of his surroundings. Ni-ki paused, the choice lingering between them like an invitation. His eyes followed Jiung, now gaining distance, then flicked back to the man much closer, oblivious, vulnerable.
With a silent groan, he made his decision. He turned from Jiung and closed in on the young man, steps quickening, his grip on the blade tightening. He moved like a shadow, swift and silent, until he was right behind him. In a single, precise motion, his blade flashing in the dim light before the man's gasp was choked into a sickening gurgle, the sound of struggle dwindling into silence.
Ni-ki let the body slump to the ground, sparing a glance over his shoulder to ensure no one had seen. Jiung had already disappeared down the road, blissfully unaware of the fate that had played out in his wake. With one last look at the lifeless figure, Ni-ki wiped his blade, pocketed it, and slipped back into the night.
--
The next day, you returned from Hyerin’s place, still a bit groggy from the late night. But as you neared your building, something felt… wrong. A few police cars were parked on the street, their lights flashing in silent urgency. You blinked, unsure if it was exhaustion playing tricks on you, but the closer you got, the more the scene came into focus.
A section of the street near the entrance was cordoned off with yellow police tape, and a small group of officers clustered around the area, deep in discussion. Your steps slowed as you took in the scene, eyes widening with a growing sense of dread.
Just then, two officers noticed you and made their way over. “Excuse me,” one of them said, glancing down at his notebook before looking back at you. “Do you live in this building?”
You swallowed, feeling suddenly very aware of the tension in the air. “Yes,” you replied, nodding.
The officer’s expression was calm but serious. “Have you noticed anything unusual or suspicious lately?”
You shook your head slowly, feeling a strange weight settle in your chest. “No, I… I was out with a friend last night, actually. I just got back.”
The other officer exchanged a glance with his partner before saying, “If you do happen to notice anything, please report it right away. Safety’s a priority right now.”
Your stomach twisted as a flash of concern crossed your face. “Can I… ask what happened?”
The first officer sighed, nodding slightly as he spoke, “A young man’s body was found nearby early this morning. We’re still investigating, but if you hear or see anything, let us know.”
You nodded, processing his words in silence as you managed a quick goodbye, leaving the officers behind. Your thoughts were a mix of shock and unease as you continued toward your apartment.
By the time you closed the door behind you, your mind was still reeling from what you’d heard. A young man, here?
--
You sat curled up on the couch, the glow of the TV casting dim shadows across the room as you continued with the latest episode of the crime show.
Just as the plot thickened, your doorbell rang. Reluctantly, you tore your attention away, padding over to the door. Peeking through the peephole, you saw Jiung standing there, looking a bit nervous. You opened the door with a curious smile.
“Hey, Jiung. What’s up?” you asked, noticing his slight hesitation as he shifted from foot to foot.
He took a breath and then, in a slightly rushed tone, asked, “Would you… maybe want to go out with me sometime? Like… on a date?”
Surprised, you paused, caught off guard. After a moment’s thought, you gave him a small smile. “I’ll think about it, Jiung.”
His face lit up, and he nodded quickly. “Great! I’ll, uh, let you think it over.” He flashed you a happy grin before heading down the hallway, glancing back once with a wave as he disappeared around the corner.
You closed the door and went back to the couch, feeling a bit dazed from the unexpected moment. But just as you settled down, another knock echoed through the room. With a sigh, you got up again, peering through the peephole. This time, it was Ni-ki.
You opened the door, offering him a polite smile. “Hey, Ni-ki.”
“Hey,” he greeted with a quiet smile of his own, holding up an empty container. “Do you have any salt? I’m all out.”
“Sure, come on in,” you said, motioning for him to step inside. You made your way to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for the salt shaker.
Ni-ki’s eyes wandered over to the TV screen, and when you came back to hand him the salt, he glanced over at you with interest. “You watch this show too?” he asked, his tone holding a hint of excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”
Your eyes lit up, a smile forming as you looked at him. “Really? I just started watching it recently.”
He nodded, his eyes returning to the screen. “Yeah, I’ve been following it since the start. It really keeps you on edge.”
Before you realized it, you were both seated on the couch, completely immersed in the show. The storyline unfolded, and the detective chased after his best friend—the killer—through a dark, shadowed warehouse. Each twist and turn of the chase drew you both in, leaning closer as the suspense built.
It wasn’t until the episode ended that you noticed how comfortable the room had become, Ni-ki looked at you, his usual reserve softened.
“That was… intense,” you said, breaking the silence.
Ni-ki’s eyes lingered on you, a quiet glint in his gaze. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice softer than usual. “But it’s always better watching with someone who’s just as into it.”
Eventually, sleepless night caught up with you, and your eyelids grew heavy. As you fought to stay awake, your head slowly tilted, finally coming to rest on Ni-ki’s shoulder. You let out a soft sigh, and the tension in your body eased as sleep washed over you.
Ni-ki stilled, watching you as you drifted off, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Gently, he shifted so you were more comfortable against him, his arm wrapping subtly around you to hold you steady. He stayed like that for a long moment, his gaze lingering on your peaceful expression, feeling your warmth beside him.
When he was sure you were fully asleep, his hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, to brush against your cheek, tracing a light line along the edge of your jaw with the tip of his finger. The dim light cast soft shadows across your face, and he watched, entranced, as his fingertip moved along your skin.
He leaned in, his face mere inches from yours, his breath warm and steady as he stayed close, hovering. His gaze flickered to your slightly parted lips, and for a second, his own breath hitched. The air was thick with an unspoken closeness, and he held that position, suspended between a lingering ache and restraint.
Carefully, he leaned back, settling you more comfortably against him, his hand resting softly on your shoulder as he continued to watch over you, his fingers curling protectively around you.
Ni-ki’s gaze darkened as he continued to watch you, his fingers resting softly on your shoulder. His eyes traced the gentle curve of your neck, and an almost imperceptible smile crossed his lips. He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured softly, almost to himself, “Red would look good on you.”
His fingers slid up, tracing the line of your neck. His grip tightened ever so slightly, lingering just enough to feel your pulse under his fingertips, steady and unknowing. He let out a slow breath, as if grounding himself, as his thumb brushed softly against the side of your throat.
For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, caught between something intense and something careful, like he was savoring this quiet moment he had with you. After a second, his fingers relaxed, trailing back down your shoulder in a gentle motion, his gaze softening. He drew in a slow breath and finally leaned back, keeping you close but releasing the subtle tension in his touch.
He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have you truly his, for you to look up at him with trust, completely unaware of the thoughts running through his mind. For now, though, he was content to simply stay by your side, holding you in the quiet of the night.
Ni-ki rose slowly, careful not to disturb you as he scooped you up in his arms. You stirred, blinking sleepily as he carried you toward the bedroom, but he gently hushed you, his voice soft and reassuring. "Shh… just sleep." You let out a quiet hum, drifting back into sleep as he placed you on the bed, pulling the blanket over you.
Once you were settled, he crouched beside the bed, his gaze intense as he took you in, his arms resting on the mattress as he leaned closer. Slowly, his hand reached out, thumb brushing gently over your bottom lip, tracing its softness, almost reverent. He caught himself lingering, letting his fingers ghost across your cheek, as if memorizing every line and curve of your face.
With you here, looking so serene, he could almost pretend to feel peace, like a balm against the darkness that usually gripped him. There was something about you—something that stilled the turbulence in his mind, turning the razor-edged thoughts of violence into something softer, more possessive. Yet, deep down, he knew: if you ever found out who he truly was, you would recoil, flee, maybe even scream. The thought unsettled him. And he couldn’t allow it.
But that was fine, he decided, his hand lingering on your cheek. You would be his. No matter what it took, he would find a way to make you understand, to make you stay, even if he had to teach you how to love him. If it came to that, he could handle it. He would mold you to be his, through your resistance, your fear—until all that was left was the love he craved from you.
Leaning forward, he whispered, almost to himself, "You'll come to love me… just wait."
Ni-ki stood for a long moment at your bedside, watching as you slept, peaceful and unaware of the thoughts circling in his mind. Finally, he straightened, brushing his fingers over the blanket one last time before he slipped out of the room. Quietly, he closed the door behind him, sealing you safely inside as he moved toward his own room.
Once there, he pulled a black bag from beneath his bed, checking its contents with practiced ease. With a final look around, he slung it over his shoulder and left the apartment, locking the door behind him. Outside, the air was cool, and the streets were veiled in a soft hush of night, faintly lit by scattered streetlights.
He walked with a steady stride, blending into the shadows as if they welcomed him. His mind was calm, sharp, each step carrying him forward with a chilling sense of purpose. There was nothing to fear out here. No shadows lurking around corners or dangers in the quiet alleys.
Why would he worry?
--
Days passed, and you started noticing that Jiung seemed increasingly interested in following up on his offer for a date. Every time you ran into him, he would smile a bit wider, his eyes hopeful as he casually asked if you’d made up your mind. His persistence was endearing, and yet… your answer was still unsure, hovering in your mind.
Meanwhile, your time with Ni-ki only grew, filling the quiet corners of your routine with an unexpected ease. He was becoming a fixture in your days, almost as though he’d always been there. You’d find him at your door some evenings, asking if he could join you for whatever crime show you were watching, his attention firmly on you as the plot unraveled on the screen.
He rarely shared much about himself, but you didn’t mind. It felt natural, sitting side by side, sometimes letting your head rest on his shoulder as you got lost in the suspense. Occasionally, he would make small comments on the case, his voice low, adding details you hadn’t noticed.
Then there were the times you’d spend in his apartment, which felt equally familiar now. You’d find yourself leaning over his shoulder, challenging him in games as he let out a soft laugh, relaxed and genuinely happy.
Laughter filled Ni-ki’s room as you clutched the game controller, triumphantly beating him for the third time in a row. Ni-ki groaned, his face caught between frustration and amusement as he asked, “How do you keep winning? Seriously!”
You shrugged, smirking as you teased, “Maybe you’re just not as good as you think.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not one to take the defeat so easily, and before you knew it, he lunged at you in a playful attack. His hands found your sides, mercilessly tickling you as you shrieked, squirming to escape his grip.
“Ni-ki—stop!” you managed between laughs, trying to push him off, but he only grinned, enjoying his victory as he held you down on the bed. Your laughter eventually softened, leaving a warm silence between you as the two of you lay there, his face hovering close to yours.
His breathing slowed, and as he gazed at you, the teasing glint in his eyes softened into something deeper. You could feel your heartbeat quicken as his gaze drifted down to your lips, and without a word, you found yourself leaning into the moment, mirroring his movement.
Slowly, his lips met yours, gentle and cautious at first, as though testing the connection. But the kiss quickly grew deeper, more intense, stealing the air from your lungs as you returned it, feeling a sense of warmth and closeness you hadn’t expected. For a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fall away.
To Ni-ki, this was both heaven and torment. Having you so close, feeling the softness of your lips against his—it was everything he’d wanted and yet, in some ways, so agonizingly out of reach. He ached for more, for all of you, yet held himself back, savoring every second with a longing that made his heart pound.
The kiss lingered, soft yet fervent, as if neither of you wanted to pull away. When you finally did, it was only because you both needed to catch your breath, your faces still close, foreheads nearly touching as you shared a quiet smile.
Ni-ki’s hand brushed along your cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles as he looked at you, a warmth in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. The tension between you was thick, yet comfortable, like something long-awaited that had finally fallen into place.
“Didn’t expect that, did you?” he murmured, his voice a soft tease, though you could hear the tremor of excitement there.
You shook your head, a bit breathless, your own heart still racing. “No… but I’m not complaining.”
His lips curled into a smile. “Good.”
Without waiting, Ni-ki leaned in, closing the small gap between you once more. His lips met yours with a deeper, more assured warmth, as if he was savoring each second, each soft touch.
This kiss was different—more intense, more deliberate, and you found yourself melting into him, your arms slipping around his neck to pull him closer. He responded eagerly, his hand moving to rest on your waist, holding you against him as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.
Just as the kiss deepened, your phone buzzed, cutting through the perfect moment. Reluctantly, you pulled back, a bit breathless, and glanced at the screen. It was your boss.
“Sorry, I have to take this,” you whispered, and Ni-ki nodded, though you noticed a faint flicker of annoyance in his eyes.
Answering the call, you heard your boss’s familiar voice sounding slightly frantic. “Hey, sorry to call last minute, but we’re understaffed tonight. Any chance you could come in for a bit?”
You hesitated, ready to turn him down, but then he added, “I’ll pay double for the overtime.”
You bit your lip, considering it. Rent was due soon, and you were already running a little behind. “Alright,” you finally said with a sigh. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”
Ending the call, you looked at Ni-ki apologetically. “I have to go to work… They’re understaffed.”
He shrugged, though you sensed the tension just beneath his relaxed expression. “No worries. We’ll pick this up another time.”
With a quick goodbye, you grabbed your bag, left the apartment, and hurried down the stairs, thinking about the night ahead. You didn’t see the way Ni-ki’s expression hardened the moment you were gone, his eyes narrowing at the door, simmering with anger at the interruption.
Your shift stretched far longer than expected, the minutes slipping by until hours had passed. By the time you finally finished work, the streets were dark, only dim streetlights casting long shadows over the quiet city. Your fingers clenched tightly around your keys, each small noise setting your nerves on edge. As you walked past a dark alleyway, a faint, agonized moan caught your attention. You paused, heart pounding as you peered into the murky darkness. Shadows seemed to shift against the brick walls, making you question if your mind was simply playing tricks.
Then, abruptly, a shoe flew out of the darkness and landed at your feet. The pale glow of the nearby streetlight barely illuminated it, but it was unmistakably there, lying askew on the cold pavement. You froze, glancing around, but the street was empty. No one else was around.
Taking a steadying breath, you stepped into the alley, clutching your keys with knuckles white. As you walked past the shoe, each step carried you deeper into the shadows, your breath shallow with dread. Just a few paces in, you saw it.
There, sprawled across the grimy ground, lay Jiung, his skin pale, eyes half-lidded with pain. Blood soaked his shirt, dark and spreading from multiple stab wounds across his abdomen. His breaths came in shallow, desperate gasps.
“Jiung…” you whispered, dropping to your knees beside him, voice shaking with panic as you scrambled to pull out your phone. You pressed one hand against his wounds, trying to staunch the bleeding, feeling the warmth of his blood seeping through your fingers.
“I’ll call for help,” you assured him, barely holding back tears as you dialed for an ambulance with a trembling hand.
But then, a chilling sensation ran down your spine. You felt the weight of a presence behind you, like ice settling in your veins. Slowly, you looked over your shoulder—and saw a tall shadow standing at the entrance to the alleyway. The streetlight behind them cast their face into darkness, but there was something menacing in their stance, the way they loomed over you and Jiung.
In a flash of movement, Jiung pushed himself up with a guttural scream, lunging toward the figure despite his injuries. “Run!” he cried, voice raspy with desperation as he collided with the attacker, buying you precious seconds to escape.
Heart hammering, you didn’t waste a moment. You turned and sprinted out of the alley, Jiung’s shout echoing in your ears. You didn’t dare look back, but the pounding of footsteps behind you pushed you faster as you bolted down the street, breath catching in your throat.
“Help!” you screamed, hoping, praying someone would hear. But the quiet streets remained desolate, and all you could do was keep running as the footsteps behind you grew closer, each one filling you with a terror you’d never known before.
The sound of heavy footsteps grew louder, and before you could take another step, a gloved hand shot out from behind you, silencing your scream as another arm snaked around your torso, pinning your arms to your sides. Panic surged through you, and you squirmed, trying to break free, but his grip was iron, unyielding.
Then you felt the cold press of a knife’s edge against your throat, sharp and threatening, making your breath hitch as fear flooded your veins.
"Where are you running off to in such a hurry, doll?" deep, gravelly voice purred in your ear. The words sent a shiver of fear racing down your spine. His breath was hot against your skin as he held you impossibly close, his grip tightening.
You froze, every nerve paralyzed in his grip as he kept you close, his body pressing against yours to ensure you couldn’t break away. The gloved hand over your mouth stifled any sound, leaving you helpless, trapped in his grasp.
"That's it," he continued, his voice almost a whisper but laced with malice, "be a good girl and don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
You held your breath, every muscle tensed, but he only chuckled, his tone shifting to something almost playful, his lips inches from your ear. “You know… you could’ve ignored it, kept on walking home like a smart little thing.” He tilted his head, sounding almost regretful, though the teasing edge to his words betrayed his satisfaction. “But no, you just had to be the hero. Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
He let out a soft, taunting hum, as though savoring the moment. “Admit it,” he said, his tone slipping into something disturbingly flirty, almost tender. "You liked the thrill, didn’t you? The danger of getting a little too close…”
Your mind raced, desperately searching for some way to escape, but his grip tightened, pressing the blade just a fraction closer, enough to remind you how easily he could hurt you.
Summoning every ounce of courage, you jerked your head back, surprising him for an instant as you managed to shift just enough for your foot to slam down on his. He grunted, his hold loosening slightly, and you seized the opportunity, twisting out of his grasp as you stumbled forward, barely managing to break free.
With adrenaline surging, you started to run again, praying you could get far enough before he caught up once more.
Your heart raced as you stumbled onto the open street, glancing back to see the shadowy figure still gaining on you. But just as hope seemed to fade, you spotted two police officers rounding a corner up ahead. Relief surged through you, and you screamed, “Help! He’s right behind me!”
Hearing the desperation in your voice, both officers turned immediately. At the sight of them, your pursuer halted, cursed under his breath, and bolted in the opposite direction. One officer shot a quick look your way before sprinting down the street after him, while the other rushed to your side, her eyes filled with concern as she gently placed a hand on your shoulder.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” she reassured, keeping her voice calm. “Take deep breaths for me, alright? Tell me what happened.”
Gasping for air, you struggled to relay what had occurred. “There’s… there’s a victim in the alleyway,” you managed between breaths. “He’s hurt badly… please, he needs help.”
The officer’s expression turned grim as she quickly radioed the situation, calling for another police unit and an ambulance to head to the location immediately. She stayed with you, grounding you as you both waited, her presence steady and comforting.
Moments later, her radio crackled to life, and a voice came through. “We’ve located the victim. Ambulance is on the way—he’s alive. Repeat, the victim is alive and en route to the hospital.”
A wave of relief washed over you at the news. Jiung was still alive. The weight of it hit you, and a smile of sheer gratitude flickered on your face, even as exhaustion threatened to pull you under.
Not long after, the other officer returned, breathing heavily, a frustrated look on his face. “I lost him,” he admitted, shaking his head. “He knew these streets too well… slipped into a maze of alleys. But we’ll catch him.”
The officer looked at you with a soft, reassuring gaze. “Would you be willing to come down to the station and give a witness report?”
You nodded, feeling a sense of duty but also the weight of the night’s events. They guided you into the police cruiser, and the short drive to the station was filled with a comforting silence. Once there, you filled out the report, recounting every detail you could remember. When it was over, the officer who had helped you before offered to drive you home.
You thanked her sincerely as you stepped out of the car in front of your building, exhaustion tugging at every limb. “Thank you… for everything,” you said, meeting her kind gaze.
“No need to thank me; just take care of yourself. Call if you remember anything else.”
You nodded, feeling the night’s intensity fade as you finally stepped into the familiar, quiet space of your apartment. You took a deep breath and pulled out your phone, sending Jiung a message, asking him to let you know as soon as he was well enough to reply.
After a hot shower, you felt slightly more grounded. You sat on the couch, flipping through channels until a horror movie caught your eye. Something about the way the killer on-screen moved in relentless pursuit of his victim made your pulse quicken. You’d just been in a scene like this, and yet… as you watched the screen, a dark thrill crept into your thoughts.
You shifted uncomfortably as the killer on-screen cornered his next victim, remembering what it felt like to be hunted down, to feel the darkness creeping in, to hear that voice whispering things you hadn’t wanted to admit. The words echoed in your mind—“Admit it. You like this. You like the fear.” You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but it was like they had a grip on you now. You couldn’t help but admit that there was something unsettlingly captivating about the chase, about the fear.
You tried to push the unsettling thoughts away—tried to focus on the killer on the screen, how methodical and cold they were, but the feeling of being hunted, being chased, was all too real. The way the killer's footsteps echoed in the victim’s ears, how their every breath seemed to be more desperate, more frantic—the adrenaline that had coursed through you earlier in the night crept back up, making your pulse quicken.
Your eyes slowly drifted to the door. The thought of being alone here, in the dark, made your heart race. You wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them tightly to your chest.
Suddenly, the phone buzzed in your pocket, snapping you out of your trance. You pulled it out quickly, half-expecting the worst, but it was just a message from Jiung.
“I’m okay. I made it through surgery, just need some rest. Thanks for being there tonight. I owe you one.”
A flood of relief rushed over you, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You typed back quickly, “I’m glad you’re okay. Take care of yourself. I’m here if you need anything.” It wasn’t much, but it felt like the right thing to say.
You dropped your phone beside you on the couch, and the movie continued to play in the background, but now you couldn’t stop thinking about the killer—the way they moved with such confidence, with such control. You wondered if you had been a part of some twisted game, a part of something you couldn’t even begin to understand.
You rubbed your eyes, feeling exhaustion from the long day, but the unease wouldn’t let go. Maybe you didn’t need to be scared. Maybe it was just a nightmare that you’d wake up from. But deep down, you knew that something about tonight had changed you. It wasn’t just the danger, but the feeling of the chase, the adrenaline, and the way you couldn’t help but wonder if you'd somehow enjoyed it.
The thought made you shiver, but there was no denying it. And in that moment, as you sat there, you couldn’t help but think—maybe you’d never be the same again.
The familiar sound of Ni-ki’s door opening caused a shiver to run down your spine. It was a noise you’d come to recognize, and as soon as you heard it, your body stiffened, a strange feeling pulling at your chest. You couldn’t explain it, but it was as if something in you needed him, needed to feel his presence.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was just the nerves from the night still lingering, but then you felt that push—an overwhelming urge to reach out. Without fully thinking it through, you grabbed your phone and sent a quick message to him: "Can you come over?"
The ping came almost instantly from next door, and for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat, loud in your ears. Then, it fell quiet again.
You stared at your screen, watching the message go from "Sent" to "Read." Your heart beat a little faster, your pulse quickening in anticipation.
Then the sound of footsteps. Heavy and deliberate. You watched the time, and in the span of a few seconds, Ni-ki's door opened, then closed softly. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was about to happen.
There were two sharp knocks on your door, and your stomach fluttered.
You opened it quickly, not wanting to second-guess yourself. The moment the door cracked, you rushed forward, pulling him into a tight hug. His warmth and the familiar scent of him enveloped you, and you couldn’t help but hold on a little tighter than you meant to.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low but filled with concern.
His body was solid against yours, his warmth comforting in the wake of everything that had happened. But after a few moments, his hands gently cupped your shoulders, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
“What happened?” he asked softly, his voice low, the tenderness in his words making your heart ache a little.
You didn’t answer immediately, not wanting to let go of him just yet. You squeezed your eyes shut and clung to him for a little longer, trying to steady yourself. When you finally opened your eyes, you pulled away just enough to hold him at arm’s length, feeling that strange mix of relief and uncertainty washing over you. You could feel the flutter of anxiety in your stomach, but you knew you had to say something.
"Can we sit down?" you asked, your voice soft and almost pleading, your fingers still gripping his shirt tightly. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, the lingering fear from earlier making it difficult to fully focus on anything other than the sound of your own heartbeat.
Without a word, Ni-ki nodded and allowed you to lead him to the couch. As you both sat down, you could feel him sitting closer than usual, his presence a constant comfort, but his eyes were still searching your face. It made you feel exposed, like there was something about you he could see, something you were trying to hide.
You turned to face him, the weight of everything rushing back now that you had a moment to think. “There was... there was someone in the alley. I—" you stammered, suddenly feeling the weight of the night’s events pushing down on you. You took a deep breath, gathering your words. "I found Jiung... he was... he was stabbed. And then..." Your voice broke for a second as you swallowed hard, the image of Jiung on the ground, bleeding, still so fresh in your mind.
Ni-ki’s eyes didn’t leave you, and his gaze softened, his hand reaching out instinctively to touch yours. His thumb gently traced your knuckles, the touch grounding you. He didn’t interrupt you, just silently waiting for you to finish, allowing you to speak in your own time.
"And then I—" You felt yourself faltering, but you pushed through. "I heard him. The person. He... he came after me." The memory of his grip, the way he whispered to you, the coldness of the blade against your throat, made your chest tighten. You shuddered involuntarily, your hands tightening around Ni-ki’s.
“But then the police came. They helped me. And Jiung... he’s alive.” Your voice shook with relief, but there was still something raw in your tone. “But I couldn’t shake it, Ni-ki. I keep thinking about it, feeling like he’s still out there.”
Ni-ki’s jaw tightened as he listened, his eyes focused on you with an intensity that made you feel both comforted and exposed. He didn’t speak for a moment, just leaned closer, his face softening. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said quietly.
You nodded slowly, trying to shake the images of the night from your mind. You had always found it hard to be vulnerable, but with Ni-ki, it was easier to just let go of the walls.
“Thank you for coming,” you murmured, looking up at him. "I... I needed someone. And I didn’t know who else to call."
Ni-ki smiled, though it was laced with something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place. His hand gently squeezed yours. “I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.”
His words melted some of the tension still lingering in your chest, and for a brief moment, you felt like you could breathe easier. You leaned back into the couch, your body relaxing just a fraction, but you didn’t let go of his hand.
You picked up the remote from the side table and hit play on the movie you’d paused earlier. The flickering of the TV screen and the eerie music of the horror film filled the silence, but it didn’t feel as suffocating now that Ni-ki was here with you.
As the movie played on, the tension in the room grew, thickening with every chase scene. You could feel your body reacting even before the first footstep of the pursuer echoed across the screen. Your eyes narrowed in, focused entirely on the characters as the camera swiveled between the running victim and the shadowed killer. Every time the chase escalated, your breath would hitch, your shoulders tightening with the anticipation of what was to come next.
When the killer finally caught up to the victim, you couldn’t help but shiver. The chase scenes felt too real, too close to what you had experienced just hours ago. The grip of the knife, the feeling of running, your breath coming faster as you tried to escape—it all flooded back in an instant, and your body involuntarily tensed. You clenched your fists in your lap, trying to steady yourself as the screen flickered with flashes of horror.
Unbeknownst to you, Ni-ki was watching intently, his eyes trained on your every reaction. He could see how your breath quickened, how your body stiffened with each passing moment, how the fear from the movie bled into your own memories. The way your hands trembled slightly, the way you seemed to draw closer to him when the killer gained on the victim.
His gaze deepened with satisfaction. He could see how easily the thrill of the chase consumed you. How, despite the terror, there was something almost addictive about it—the danger, the vulnerability, the adrenaline. And it stirred something inside of him, a dark thought that he couldn’t ignore.
He watched you carefully, a small, pleased smile tugging at the corner of his lips as you flinched at every tense moment. He knew this feeling—he could feel it, too. The hunt, the chase, the thrill of bringing someone to the edge of fear. You’d experienced it in the alley, running from him, and now, you were reliving it through the film. But he could tell there was more to you than just fear. You liked it. You liked the adrenaline.
Ni-ki’s hand slowly shifted towards you, resting just near your knee, not touching yet, but close enough to sense your tension. His thumb twitched, as if he could feel the currents of your unease, of your suppressed excitement. He knew you weren’t just scared. You were drawn to it, to the rush of being pursued, to the danger.
He was sure of it now—he could make you understand. He could shape you, mold you to match his world. All he had to do was push you far enough, make you see the thrill the way he did. He’d show you how to embrace it, how to live for the chase, to revel in the fear, to become a part of it—just like him.
And no one would stand in his way.
Not Jiung. Not anyone.
He’d take care of the loose ends soon enough, with that same meticulous care. Just as he had with so many others. But you—you—would be his masterpiece. He would make sure of it.
His fingers brushed lightly against your leg, just enough to make you flinch, but not enough to pull you out of the movie. And as the next chase scene unfolded on the screen, Ni-ki smiled to himself, savoring the moment.
He could tell you were deep in your thoughts, processing the fear, but also something else—something beneath the surface. You were on edge, yet you didn’t pull away. You were still here, still sitting with him. That pleased him more than you could know.
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening as he took in the way you gripped the couch, the way your body tensed with every dramatic moment. He noticed the little things—how you took a sharp breath when the victim almost got caught, how your eyes widened in brief anticipation, but you didn’t look away.
“You okay?” Ni-ki asked casually, breaking the silence, his voice soft yet filled with a certain curiosity. His tone seemed almost too casual for what he was observing, but it made you snap back to reality.
You nodded quickly, forcing a small, reassuring smile, though the flicker of unease still danced in your eyes. “Yeah, just… wasn’t expecting a movie like this.”
He chuckled, a low sound, and leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I get it,” he said, the words carrying a gentle teasing quality. “But you seem to be handling it well.”
You looked over at him, unsure of what he meant, but his eyes were fixed on the screen now, and you couldn't quite read his expression.
"Thanks for staying," you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could think to stop them.
“Of course," he replied, glancing at you briefly, his smile soft. "I’m not going anywhere.”
By the time the movie ended, the adrenaline had faded, and the room felt quieter, and you found yourself leaning back into the couch, your body finally starting to relax.
Ni-ki turned to you, his expression unreadable but his presence still comforting. “Feel better?”
You nodded, your smile small but genuine. “Yeah, I do. Thanks for being here."
He gave a small nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he looked away. "Anytime," he said softly, the words hanging in the air between you.
--
The sunlight filtered softly through the blinds as you slowly awoke, groggily blinking as you tried to get your bearings. The familiar warmth of the couch wrapped around you, but as your eyes adjusted, you realized that the person who had kept you company the night before—Ni-ki—was no longer beside you. The spot on the couch where he’d been was empty, and the space next to you felt cold in comparison.
You groaned, sitting up and stretching. You must've dozed off again after the movie had ended. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until you woke up now, all tangled in the blanket.
Shaking off the remnants of sleep, you stood up, ran through your usual morning routine, and gathered your things. You quickly dressed, brushed your hair, and splashed some water on your face to wake yourself up more fully. There was a lot to do today.
After grabbing a quick bite, you made your way to the hospital. Jiung had been transferred there after the attack, and you were eager to see how he was doing. As soon as you entered his room, you saw him sitting up in bed, looking far better than you expected after the ordeal.
He smiled weakly when he saw you, though there was still a tinge of pain in his eyes. “Hey, you came. I’m so glad to see you.”
You smiled back, your heart lightening at the sight of him doing so much better. “Of course, Jiung. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” he replied, shifting to make himself more comfortable. “The doctors said I’ll be fine to go home in a couple of days. Just need to rest a bit more.”
“That’s great news,” you said, relieved. You sat down beside his bed, glad to see he was recovering well.
Jiung paused, looking at you with an almost hesitant expression. “Hey, I was thinking… once I’m out of here, maybe we could go grab a coffee or something? I know you are still thinking.”
You hesitated, glancing down at your hands for a moment. It was clear that Jiung had more than just friendship in mind, and you didn’t want to hurt him. But you also needed to be honest with him.
“Jiung…” you started softly, meeting his eyes. “I think you’re great, but I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I see you as a friend. I’m actually interested in someone else.”
His face softened, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes. He gave a small nod, though, his smile never quite fading. “I understand. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a girlfriend.”
You gave him a gentle smile in return, feeling a pang of guilt, but also relief at having been honest with him. “Thank you for understanding, Jiung. You’re a really good person, and I’m glad we’re friends.”
“I’m glad we’re friends, too,” he said, his voice steady despite the slight sadness in it. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“I will. And you get better, alright?” you replied, giving him a small wave as you stood up to leave.
After your visit, you made your way to work, your thoughts still lingering on the conversation with Jiung. As much as it had been the right thing to do, it didn’t make it any easier. You focused on your tasks at work, trying to push the lingering thoughts aside and focus on the tasks at hand. It was a long shift, but at least it gave you a break from the emotional weight of everything that had happened lately.
The evening had crept up on you faster than you expected. The time spent with your friends at the mall was a welcome distraction, but as the sky darkened, the familiar unease from earlier in the week began to creep back. You said your goodbyes, as they headed in different directions, and made your way to your car, feeling the weight of the day on your shoulders.
You climbed into your car, started the engine, and drove home, your mind preoccupied. The streets were relatively quiet, the rush of the city settling down as night enveloped everything in shadows. A part of you felt relieved to be heading back to your apartment, but another part felt uneasy. The events of the past few days—the attack on Jiung, the strange tension with Ni-ki—lingered in your thoughts, gnawing at the back of your mind.
Once you parked your car and grabbed your shopping bag from the back seat, you stepped out, pulling the door shut with a soft click. The air was crisp, a cool breeze brushing against your face as you locked the car and started walking toward your apartment. The familiar sounds of the street felt oddly distant, almost muffled by the growing darkness.
Your senses felt more alert than usual, and you quickened your pace, the soft click of your shoes against the pavement echoing in the quiet evening. Something about tonight felt off, the air thick with an unspoken tension that you couldn’t quite place. Every shadow seemed to stretch longer, every flicker of movement felt like a warning.
You glanced over your shoulder, but the street behind you remained empty. Still, the unease gnawed at you.
Maybe it’s nothing, you thought to yourself, trying to shake off the feeling, but it didn’t help. You picked up your pace again, hands clutching your shopping bag a little tighter. The streetlights above flickered intermittently, casting long shadows across the pavement.
As you neared your apartment building, you paused for just a second, glancing up at your door. Everything appeared normal, yet the feeling of being watched was inescapable. You exhaled slowly, trying to calm your racing heart, and told yourself it was just your mind playing tricks.
But then you heard something.
A sound behind you. A shuffle of footsteps.
Your head snapped around, but the street was still empty. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you stood there for a moment, frozen in place. The wind rustled the leaves nearby, but that was the only noise in the air.
You couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed.
Just get inside, you urged yourself, turning back toward the door of your building. You fumbled with your keys, your fingers cold and unsteady as you slid the key into the lock. The sound of footsteps drew closer, and just as you pushed the door open, a voice, low and unfamiliar, echoed from behind you.
“You’re not alone tonight.”
Your heart stopped. The hairs on your neck prickled with fear.
Before you could turn around, a gloved hand rested against the door, pushing it slightly back into its frame, and you were pulled backward.
The moment you were pulled into the alleyway, the cold grip of fear clamped down on your chest. You were yanked roughly, stumbling over your own feet, and before you could even think to scream, a gloved hand pressed tightly over your mouth, stifling any sound. The sharp edge of a knife was placed at your throat, just enough to make you feel the cold metal against your skin, but not yet enough to break it.
"You're lucky I let you live after you interfered last time," the man muttered, his voice low and cold, as if every word was carefully measured. "But… I guess I’ll forgive you. After all, it’s not your fault you got in the way. Just another mistake. But don’t worry, I’ll finish what I started."
He pressed the knife a little harder into your side, making you wince, and his voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "You won’t stop me this time."
Your eyes darted to the alley’s entrance, and you tried to struggle against his grip, but his hand on your mouth only tightened, and the blade felt like it could pierce your skin with the slightest movement. Panic surged through you, but before you could react further, you heard something.
Footsteps. The faint sound of boots hitting pavement.
You froze.
The man must have heard it too, because his voice turned sharp, a warning whisper. "Stay quiet," he hissed. "If you make a sound, I’ll finish it right here."
Your breath caught in your throat as three police officers walked into view, their figures passing by the alley’s opening. The sounds of their conversation blended with the quiet night, but they didn’t seem to notice the two of you hidden in the shadows.
Your heart hammered in your chest as they came closer, their uniforms barely visible in the low light, the soft murmur of their voices floating into the alley. You dared not move a muscle, barely able to breathe, as you felt the pressure of the knife against your side.
The man’s grip on you tightened, forcing you to stand still, and you could feel the pulse of fear racing through your veins. Your eyes stayed locked on the officers, willing them to see you, to help, but they kept walking past without a second glance. Their conversation faded, and just like that, they were gone, leaving nothing but silence behind.
The man’s grip on you was relentless, pressing you deeper into the shadows. But in that brief, fleeting moment, you found your opening.
His hold slackened just enough, his focus momentarily distracted by the fading sound of the officers’ footsteps. His attention turned slightly to make sure they had truly gone, just long enough for you to summon the courage to move.
With a burst of adrenaline, you jerked your body to the side, slipping out of his grasp. Your heart pounded in your ears as you darted forward, legs propelling you as fast as they could carry you. The alley seemed to stretch endlessly in front of you, and with every step, the fear that gripped your chest pushed you further, faster.
You didn’t look back—couldn’t afford to—but you heard the sound of his footsteps pounding behind you, growing louder. He was coming after you. His breath was ragged, but there was no mercy in his pursuit, only the promise of violence. The sound of his pursuit echoed down the narrow alley, each step closer to your heels making your breath come quicker, your legs feel weaker.
You turned a corner, hoping to lose him, but the streets around you were eerily empty, void of the people you so desperately needed. The streetlights flickered weakly, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly, making you feel as though the darkness was swallowing you whole.
There was no one. No one to help you. No one to witness your struggle.
You tried to scream, but your voice was caught in your throat, choking on your fear. Every alley you passed was as desolate as the last, every street devoid of life. The city seemed to hold its breath as you ran, its silence mocking your desperate escape.
Your legs burned, your lungs screamed for air, but you didn’t dare stop. If you did, he would catch you. And the thought of what he would do made your skin crawl, your heart race even faster.
But then, you heard it. His footsteps were louder now, more insistent. He was gaining on you. The realization hit you like a wave—you weren’t going to outrun him.
Desperation set in as you searched for any place to hide, any escape, but the streets stretched on endlessly, the buildings looming on either side like dark sentinels. The only sound that filled the air was your frantic breathing and the thudding of your own heartbeat.
You had to think. You had to survive.
You pushed yourself harder, heart hammering in your chest as you darted through another narrow alley. Desperation clawed at your throat, but somehow, you found an abandoned dumpster in the corner of the alley, its shadow deep and offering a small sliver of cover.
With trembling hands, you crouched behind it, pulling your legs close to your chest, trying to quiet your frantic breathing. You held your breath, praying that he wouldn’t hear you or see you. The night felt suffocating, the dark streets now your only allies.
You pressed yourself against the cold, gritty wall of the alley, the rough surface scraping your skin as you slowly peeked out, just enough to see him.
The man was standing a few feet away, his head shifting left and right, scanning the area. He was looking for you—searching for you, and every passing moment felt like an eternity. The way he moved, his body tense, the way his eyes narrowed behind the mask, told you that he was intent on finding you.
He was tall, lean, and wore a baggy jacket with the hood pulled low over his head, casting his features in shadow. His jeans hung loosely around his waist, the fabric almost swallowing his legs. A mask covered his mouth, hiding his expression, but you could see the sharpness of his eyes, cold and calculating as they swept over the alley.
You held your breath again, not daring to move a muscle. The air felt thick, and the sound of his footsteps seemed impossibly loud as he stepped closer to where you were hiding. You could hear him muttering under his breath, a low, almost inaudible grumble of frustration as he searched. He was so close now, standing right in the spot where you had just been moments before.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you forced yourself to stay still, not even daring to blink. If you moved, if he saw you… you didn’t want to think about what would happen. The fear that gripped your throat made it hard to breathe, but you didn’t dare exhale too loudly.
The man stepped closer again, his body tensing, clearly aware that you were near. You could see the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the fabric of his jacket, his hands twitching near the knife in his pocket. His breathing was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the hunt.
You swallowed hard, your entire body on edge. It felt like the world had stopped, the only thing in motion was him, his every movement calculated, methodical.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, he stepped back, his head turning as if he had sensed something—or maybe it was just the cold night playing tricks on him. His eyes scanned the surrounding area once more, and for a moment, you thought he might give up.
You knew, the moment you moved, he would be on you. You just had to wait, to let him think he’d missed you. Just a little longer, just enough time for you to figure out your next move.
You waited, heart racing, every muscle in your body tensed, when the man who had been stalking you suddenly vanished into the shadows. The air felt thick with suspense, the silence almost deafening as you kept your eyes trained on the dark alleyway, afraid to make a move just yet.
It wasn’t until several minutes later that you finally saw why he’d left. A tall, broad-shouldered man appeared at the mouth of the alleyway, his gait confident and purposeful. You recognized him instantly—the owner of the laundromat a few blocks over. His muscular build and rough demeanor made him hard to miss. He was the type who could take care of himself, the type you’d want by your side if trouble were brewing. He strolled past the alley, seemingly unaware of the danger that had been lurking just moments before.
Taking the opportunity, you slowly began to step out of your hiding place, keeping your movements as quiet and fluid as possible. With the laundromat owner walking ahead, you kept a few steps behind him, grateful for the presence of someone who seemed safe, someone who might be the buffer between you and whatever danger had been stalking you just minutes before.
As you walked, you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched, that prickling sensation creeping up your spine. Your eyes darted over your shoulder, searching the dark streets. But there was no one. Still, the unsettling feeling lingered like a shadow that wouldn’t let go.
You turned back around and quickened your pace, staying close to the laundromat owner. The walk back to your apartment felt like it took forever. Every turn, every creak in the distance, made your heart pound faster. You refused to look back again, forcing yourself to focus on getting to the safety of your apartment.
The moment you reached your building, you breathed a sigh of relief. The door to the apartment building seemed like a small fortress in that moment. You glanced once more over your shoulder—nothing. But the nagging sensation that something, someone, was still watching you refused to let go.
You hurried up the stairs to your apartment, not bothering to check the other floors, not caring who might be around. Your only priority was getting inside, locking the door, and sealing yourself off from whatever it was that was chasing you—whether it was the man in the alley or the dark thoughts you tried to push away.
As you entered your apartment, you locked the door behind you, breathing heavily. You walked to your room, closing the door with a soft click, and pressed your back against it for a moment. Your hands were trembling as you looked around your room.
But even in the safety of your room, the adrenaline still buzzed in your veins. The fear hadn’t fully dissipated, but something else had settled into the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t just fear anymore—it was an unsettling sense of anticipation. A craving that you couldn’t name, a feeling that made your skin tingle and your breath quicken, not from fear this time, but something else. Something darker.
The feeling grew, gnawing at you from the inside. You pushed it down, told yourself to focus, to get some sleep, to let go of the rush. But deep inside, you knew what it was.
It was the thrill. The addiction to it. The way your body had reacted to the chase, the near escape, the uncertainty of what might happen next.
You shook your head, trying to clear the thoughts, telling yourself to stop. It was a dangerous game to play with such thoughts. But in the back of your mind, a voice whispered that you would never be able to stop craving it.
That night, as you lay in your bed, the exhaustion from the long day weighed heavily on your body. The adrenaline from the events earlier had faded, leaving behind a deep, aching tiredness. You pulled the blanket up to your chin, closed your eyes, and let yourself drift into sleep, unaware of the quiet presence watching you.
Just beyond the wall of your room, in the shadows, Ni-ki stood silently, his eyes fixated on the small hole in the wall that gave him an unobstructed view into your room.
He smiled, a dark, satisfied smile. You had no idea how close he was, no idea how much he had watched you tonight, how every move you made—every step you took—had been carefully observed. Even the small crack in the wall had become an entryway for him to see you, to observe you without you knowing. To see you in your most vulnerable state—sleeping, unaware of the danger just beyond your reach.
His fingers traced the edge of the hole, a slow, deliberate movement as he drank in the sight of you. He admired the way you shifted in your sleep, how your body instinctively curled up for warmth, how your lips parted slightly in a soft breath. He knew you didn’t fully understand the danger, didn’t fully comprehend the way he had been keeping watch over you, but that would change.
You had something inside you. Something that made you crave the chaos, the rush, the thrill of danger. He could see it now. He could feel it in the way your body reacted, in the subtle ways you would flinch at the chase scenes on the TV, in the way your heart raced when you were close to danger. You liked it, didn't you? The feeling of being hunted, the rush of barely escaping.
And that was where he had to be patient. He would guide you. Mold you. Shape you into someone who wouldn’t just run from him. No, you’d be by his side, not as a victim, but as someone who wanted to walk this dangerous path with him. It would take time, but he was willing to wait.
As you slept, Ni-ki’s gaze never left you, his heart thumping in quiet anticipation. It wasn’t just the thrill he enjoyed now. It was you.
You had no idea how impressive you were, how far you'd come in such a short amount of time. The way you escaped from his grasp earlier—it had caught him off guard, in a way. The determination in you, the fight, the way you pushed through the fear. It was something he admired, even if you didn’t fully realize the extent of it.
When you managed to slip away from him, when you outwitted him for those few seconds, it ignited something within him. He was impressed—not many could do that. Not many could slip through his fingers like that, especially when he was so close. It wasn't just the thrill of the chase anymore; it was the way you handled it. You were more than just a victim to him now. You were becoming something else—something he wanted more than anything.
The rush he felt watching you run, the adrenaline pulsing through his veins, was addicting. You had that same fire, that same dangerous allure that kept pulling him back in. Your fear, your resistance, even your attempts at fighting back, had only made him more intrigued, more obsessed.
It was clear now—you were no longer just a victim for him to hunt. You were a challenge. A beautiful, unpredictable challenge. And he loved every moment of it.
His fingers grazed the wall as he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing with focus. You had nearly escaped him, but in doing so, you’d only stoked the flames of his desire to catch you even more. You were strong, quick, and clever. But more than that, you were unpredictable, and that made you more enticing than any victim he had ever encountered.
He could already picture it���the next time you faced him, the next time you ran, the next time you resisted. He’d be ready for it. And this time, he wouldn’t let you go. Not until you fully understood the game.
With a slow, deliberate breath, he pulled himself away from the wall, slipping quietly out of the shadows, his mind already whirring with plans. He would let you think you had control for now, let you think you were escaping him. But soon enough, he’d pull you back in, closer than ever before.
Ni-ki knew the thrill wasn’t just in the chase anymore. The real excitement would come when you finally stopped running—when you embraced the darkness he offered, when you no longer resisted him. That was when he’d truly have you. And when that time came, you would understand. You would want it too.
But for now, he would let you breathe. He would let you think you were free, even though, deep down, you already belonged to him. The pull would only get stronger.
And when you woke in the morning, when you faced the world again, he would be right there, ready to take the next step in bringing you closer to him. Because this wasn’t just about chasing you anymore—it was about claiming you, piece by piece.
He turned away from the wall and quietly left, leaving the hole behind, but his mind was already set on the next move.
Soon enough, you would be his.
--
You had just opened your door, heading out for class, when you froze in your tracks. The road ahead of you was blocked. Someone had left a shopping bag on the ground right in your path, unmistakably familiar. Your breath caught in your throat as you took a step closer, recognizing the bag immediately.
It was the same one you had dropped during your frantic run from the killer, the one you had barely managed to grab before fleeing for your life. How could it possibly be here?
Your heart raced in your chest, and your hands trembled as you reached down to pick it up. As you did, a cold shiver ran down your spine. The weight of it was just as it had been before, and when you peered inside, you saw everything you’d bought from the mall—a few pieces of clothing, makeup, and the lipstick you’d picked out without much thought.
But there was something else, something more unnerving—there was a note. It was attached to the lipstick. You slowly pulled it out, and the moment your eyes fell on the words, your stomach dropped.
“You forgot your bag, doll. I thought I’d return it to you. I’d love to see this shade on your lips next time we meet.”
The words were simple, but the implications were enough to send a chill down your spine. It felt like the note had been written just for you, as if he knew where you’d be, as if he was keeping track of you.
You glanced around the hallway, but there was no sign of anyone, no figure lurking in the shadows. You were completely alone. Still, the presence of that note, the familiarity of his words, left you feeling exposed, vulnerable. He was closer than you realized. He was always watching.
You quickly stuffed the note back into the bag, clutching it tightly as your heart hammered in your chest. But even as you turned to leave, a sinking feeling gnawed at the back of your mind, knowing that every time you tried to move forward, something—someone—was always just one step behind you.
--
Over the next few days, your life seemed to settle into a new rhythm. You spent more time with Ni-ki, and each moment felt different from anything you had experienced before. His presence was comforting, a sense of protection lingering whenever he was near. It wasn’t just the way he would quietly stand watch over you when you were vulnerable, but the subtle ways he made sure you felt safe.
As much as you tried to shake off the unsettling memories of that night, Ni-ki's company made you feel… reassured. The small crush you had once harbored for him began to grow. His calm demeanor, the way he carried himself with confidence, and the way he seemed to understand everything without saying much—it made him irresistible. It was so easy to let your guard down when he was around, even if a small part of you still questioned things you couldn’t quite understand.
Then Jiung came back from the hospital.
The moment he stepped into your apartment, there was an odd tension in the air. He’d been through a lot, and he looked exhausted, but there was something else in his eyes—something darker, a sharpness you hadn’t noticed before. He wasn’t the same since the attack, and maybe it was the trauma or just his protective nature, but when he saw Ni-ki, his demeanor shifted. He greeted you with a tired smile, but his gaze lingered on Ni-ki longer than it should’ve.
You could sense something was off. He seemed distant, colder, and even though he was happy to see you, his eyes kept flicking to Ni-ki, narrowing as if trying to make sense of something.
Later, as you and Jiung were talking, he dropped a bombshell.
“Have you noticed anything strange about him?” Jiung asked, his voice low, guarded.
“Who?” you asked, slightly confused.
“Ni-ki,” he answered, his eyes not meeting yours but focused on the spot where Ni-ki had been sitting earlier. “I’ve been doing some thinking… about all those murders. The ones that happened around the same time he showed up… It’s too much of a coincidence. And the way he’s always around, watching you—something’s off.”
You laughed softly, trying to ease the tension. “Jiung, you’re being paranoid. Ni-ki’s harmless.”
But Jiung didn’t seem convinced. “I’m serious. You’ve been around him a lot, right? Think about it. His timing, his habits… don’t you think it’s strange?”
You shook your head, brushing off the unease creeping into your chest. “You’re crazy. Ni-ki would never hurt anyone. He’s been nothing but nice to me, Jiung. You’re just imagining things.”
Jiung clenched his fists, frustration evident on his face. “I’m not imagining anything! You need to be careful. He’s dangerous. I’m telling you.”
You met his gaze with an exasperated sigh. “I know you’re worried, but Ni-ki isn’t who you think he is. He’s not the bad guy here.” You stood up, trying to change the subject. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re just tired from everything that happened at the hospital. Maybe you should rest.”
Jiung stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for any sign of doubt. But there was none. Finally, he shook his head, as if giving up on convincing you. “I hope you’re right,” he muttered, but the suspicion still lingered in his eyes.
The rest of the conversation was awkward. Despite your assurances, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Jiung’s words had planted a seed of doubt, but you quickly silenced it. Ni-ki had always been kind to you. He was always there when you needed him. He wasn’t dangerous.
Right?
But as the days passed, and you spent more time with Ni-ki, you began to notice small things that didn’t sit right. There were moments when you would catch him looking at you a little too intently, or when his smile would slip into something darker when you weren’t paying attention. The tension from Jiung’s warning kept gnawing at the back of your mind, but each time you saw Ni-ki’s face—calm, patient, understanding—you pushed it aside.
Jiung had to be wrong. He was just being paranoid.
Still, something inside you felt like it was teetering on the edge of something you couldn’t quite grasp.
A few days later, Jiung showed up at your door again. This time, he was holding a manila folder, and the look on his face was grave.
You didn’t want to invite him in, but he didn’t give you much of a choice. As he pushed the door open, you stepped back, arms crossed defensively.
“I’ve got more to show you,” Jiung said, a mix of urgency and frustration in his voice.
“Jiung, I told you already, I don’t want to talk about this,” you said, trying to shut down the conversation before it even started.
But he was insistent, handing you the folder. “Look at this. You need to see it.”
Reluctantly, you opened the folder, your heart racing as you flipped through the papers. They were mostly copies of reports from the police and CCTV footage, but one image caught your eye: it was a grainy shot of Ni-ki walking alone through the streets at night. The image was taken from a security camera, and it was timestamped around the time of one of the murders.
“Jiung, this is just footage of him walking down the street,” you muttered, trying to brush it off.
But Jiung wasn’t backing down. He pointed to another image, a close-up shot of Ni-ki entering a small shop—a shop you knew he worked at. “This is him going to work, isn’t it? You know it is,” Jiung said, his voice tight with tension. “This is where the pattern starts. He’s always around. Always at the right place at the right time.”
You stared at the photo, your mind spinning. You didn’t want to admit it, but the timing was too coincidental. But still, something about it didn’t sit right with you. Ni-ki had always been kind, gentle, and… well, he was your friend. You had to believe that.
“Jiung, please,” you said, your voice pleading. “This isn’t enough. It’s just… it’s a coincidence, okay? Ni-ki is a good guy. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
Jiung’s face hardened. “You’re just ignoring the facts. I’m telling you, you’re in danger. He’s been involved in every single one of these murders, and you’ve been around him. You need to stay away from him before it’s too late.”
You shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “I’ve had enough of this, Jiung. You need to leave.”
You didn’t give him a chance to argue, firmly holding out the folder with the papers he had given you. “Take your stuff and go.”
Jiung looked at you one last time, eyes filled with a mix of hurt and frustration. “I’m just trying to protect you, you know,” he muttered before taking the folder from your hand and walking out the door.
Once he was gone, you locked it behind him, letting out a long sigh of relief. You couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling in your stomach, though, the small part of you that wondered if maybe Jiung had been right. But then you thought of Ni-ki—his smile, the way he always looked out for you, the way he’d been there for you time and time again.
No. You couldn’t believe it. Ni-ki wasn’t capable of what Jiung accused him of.
You couldn’t let yourself doubt him.
--
You were curled up on the couch with Ni-ki, the soft glow of the TV lighting up the dark room as you both watched a movie. The atmosphere was comfortable, the kind of quiet warmth that made you feel safe with him.
But then, the sound of your doorbell broke the calm.
You groaned, irritated that the moment was being interrupted. As you stood up and made your way to the door, Ni-ki didn't even glance away from the screen, still lounging back on the couch. You opened the door, not expecting much, only to find Jiung standing there. His presence instantly put you on edge.
"Jiung? What are you—"
Before you could finish your sentence, Jiung’s eyes immediately darted past you to the living room, locking onto Ni-ki. There was a brief moment of silence, and you could practically feel the tension building in the air. His discomfort was palpable, his body stiff as he shifted uneasily on his feet.
“I was wondering if you had any more information on the murder,” Jiung asked, his tone direct but strained. “Anything else you might have forgotten to tell the police? Some small detail that could help?”
You blinked in confusion, then sighed. You were so tired of this. The suspicion, the constant questioning—it felt like a weight you couldn’t escape. You could see the doubt in his eyes, and it stung.
“Jiung, I already told you everything,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm but firm.
He didn’t look convinced, his gaze flickering to Ni-ki again, lingering a little too long. Ni-ki, for his part, seemed unaffected, his expression unreadable.
"Well, if you remember anything else—" Jiung started, but you cut him off.
“Look, I really need to go to the bathroom,” you said, your patience wearing thin. “I’ll be back in a minute. Can you just... wait here?”
Jiung nodded, though you could see the worry in his eyes as he glanced at Ni-ki one last time.
You didn’t want to deal with this right now, and as you made your way toward the bathroom, you hoped that maybe Jiung would leave. But just as you reached the door, you heard it. A loud crash, followed by shouts, then the sound of things scattering across the floor.
Your heart skipped a beat. You rushed back toward the living room, and your stomach dropped when you saw what was happening. Ni-ki and Jiung were on the floor, tangled together in a mess of flailing limbs. They were shouting at each other, the aggression in their voices unmistakable.
“Jiung, what the hell—” you gasped.
The two of them were a mess—clothes half-ripped, hair disheveled, and faces already starting to show the marks of their struggle. Ni-ki’s grip on Jiung’s shirt was unforgiving, his knuckles white with the intensity of his hold, while Jiung pushed back with all his might, trying to break free.
The coffee table had been knocked over in the chaos, and your bowl of popcorn lay shattered across the floor, the pieces scattered like a reminder of how quickly things had gone wrong.
“Ni-ki is the killer! Don’t you see it?!” Jiung shouted, his voice hoarse and frantic as he tried to land a punch, but Ni-ki dodged it easily. His voice rang with panic, eyes wide as he looked at you. “You’re protecting him! You don’t know who he is!”
You felt the words cut through you like a knife, your heart pounding in your chest as the truth of what Jiung was accusing sank in. Was it possible? Was Ni-ki really the killer? The one responsible for everything? Your mind raced, but every part of you resisted the thought. You knew Ni-ki—he couldn’t be.
But Jiung’s anger and fear were real. His accusations filled the room like a thick, oppressive fog.
Ni-ki’s expression remained cold, unflinching, despite the heat of the fight. His face was a mask of controlled rage as he twisted Jiung’s shirt tighter. “You don’t know anything,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “You’re just trying to get a rise out of her.”
Jiung tried to break free, his breath ragged. “You think I’m lying? You think I’m crazy? I saw the patterns, I saw the way he’s always there, after dark. You think that’s a coincidence?!” He shoved Ni-ki with all his strength, causing the two of them to stumble. “You can’t hide it anymore. You’ll slip up, and when you do—”
Ni-ki cut him off, his grip tightening as he shoved Jiung into the wall with a brutal force. “I’m done with you,” he snarled, his voice filled with a chilling finality. “You’ve said your piece. Now, get the hell out of my sight.”
Jiung’s face twisted with frustration as he took in the damage around him—the overturned coffee table, the popcorn on the floor. He seemed to come to a realization then, one you couldn’t quite place, and he stared at Ni-ki one last time with wide, disbelieving eyes.
“You’re the monster,” Jiung spat, his voice trembling. “And she’ll see it too. She’ll figure it out eventually.”
Jiung opened the door, his hands trembling as he stepped out, casting one last glance at you before leaving, his figure disappearing into the hallway.
The room felt unnaturally still after he was gone. The only sounds were your breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioner.
Ni-ki, still standing where Jiung had left him, slowly relaxed his stance, though the tension in his body remained. He took a step back, as if finally realizing how close to the edge things had been. His eyes locked onto you, the intensity of his gaze making your heart skip a beat. But this time, there was something else there, something deeper—something you couldn’t quite understand.
“You don’t believe him, do you?” Ni-ki asked, his voice softer now, almost too calm.
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Your mind was a whirlwind, caught between what you had just witnessed and the person you thought you knew.
“He’s just trying to scare you,” Ni-ki continued, taking a step closer to you, his expression unreadable. “You know me better than that. I’d never hurt you. You have to know that.”
But you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest. The questions, the doubts, they had been creeping in for weeks, ever since you first met him. Every time you thought you could trust him completely, something dark—something off—seemed to follow in his wake.
You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
Ni-ki didn’t respond immediately, just standing there, his eyes never leaving yours, watching you as if waiting for something. You could feel the weight of his gaze, the way it seemed to see straight through you.
But then, his lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to think about it right now,” he said softly.
The words sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t know why. You didn’t know what to do with the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside you.
The days following Jiung’s visit felt like an eternity. You couldn’t shake the weight of his accusations or the image of Ni-ki and Jiung fighting, each man standing for something so different.
You started to keep Ni-ki at arm's length, your interactions with him becoming more guarded. You’d still spend time together, but there was a distance now—something unsaid that hung in the air between you, a barrier that wasn’t there before.
Ni-ki noticed. His usual calm demeanor faltered, just for a moment, whenever you hesitated to answer his calls or avoided his gaze for too long. But he didn’t press it. Not directly. Instead, he continued to show up, his presence always just a step away from being too much, and yet you let him in. Every time. Maybe it was the loneliness, or the need for something familiar, something you could hold onto.
One evening, you opened the door to find him standing there, the familiar tilt of his head and that quiet smile of his. He was calm, as always, but there was something in his eyes—something searching. He didn’t have to say anything to make you feel it.
“You’re avoiding me,” he said quietly, stepping into the apartment without waiting for you to invite him in.
You couldn’t bring yourself to lie. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” you admitted, your voice low. “I’m confused.”
Ni-ki closed the door behind him with a soft click and turned to face you, his eyes unwavering. “I understand,” he said, his tone almost too understanding. “But you’ve got to trust me. I haven’t done anything wrong. You know me better than anyone else.”
You wanted to believe him. You really did. But Jiung’s accusations, the evidence he showed you… it made it harder.
“Ni-ki, I…” You faltered, your words feeling heavy in your chest. “I don’t know who to trust.”
He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours, the space between you shrinking with each word. “You can trust me,” he said, his voice softer, almost coaxing. “I know it’s hard to see through all the confusion, but I swear to you, I’m innocent. I would never hurt you.”
You took a step back, your mind fighting with your heart. Your body told you to believe him, to let go of the doubt. But the fear still lingered, a shadow at the edge of your thoughts.
“You have to understand, what Jiung said… It’s all just paranoia,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting, like a whisper meant to calm the storm inside you. “He doesn’t understand me the way you do. You know me. You know who I am.” His hand reached out, fingers brushing gently along your arm. "You know that I would never hurt you. I’d never hurt anyone you care about."
You shook your head slightly, still conflicted, but his touch made it hard to focus. “But Jiung…” you started, your voice faltering.
“He’s crazy,” Ni-ki interrupted, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes before it softened again, replaced by that unwavering calm. "He’s got a wild imagination. He's pushing all these ideas in your head. Don’t listen to him. You’re smart. You know what feels right.” He took another step closer, his hand moving to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You feel it too, don’t you? The connection between us? The way I protect you, the way I look out for you? There’s nothing wrong with that.”
You swallowed hard, his words sinking deeper into your mind, like a slow poison—soft and insidious. The memory of Jiung’s accusations felt distant now, buried beneath the weight of Ni-ki’s soothing tone. "But... what if he was right?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, the fear creeping in again.
Ni-ki gave you a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He cupped your chin gently, lifting it, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Jiung doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s just scared. Of me, of what he can’t have But you, you’re not scared, are you?” His voice dropped even lower, intimate and coaxing. “You know I would never hurt you. Why would I? I care about you. I would do anything for you.”
You hesitated, the conflicting emotions a jumbled mess in your mind. Ni-ki continued, his fingers sliding from your chin to the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer. “You’re safe with me. You’ve always been safe with me. Jiung doesn’t want to see that. But you do. You trust me, right?”
You nodded, despite the knot in your stomach, the small voice of doubt still lingering in the back of your mind. It felt easier to trust him in this moment. He was right there, offering you comfort, offering you understanding. Everything about him seemed so sure, so calm, as though the whole world was just a puzzle he’d already figured out.
“You’ll see,” Ni-ki whispered, brushing his lips lightly against your forehead, “once Jiung’s out of the picture, you won’t have to worry about anything. We can be happy. Together.”
Before you could say anything else, Ni-ki lifted your chin, tilting your head back slightly. His breath was warm on your skin as he leaned in, and for a moment, you froze, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. But then, before you could stop yourself, he kissed you.
His lips were soft, almost tentative at first, as if waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. You didn’t pull away. Instead, your arms found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Ni-ki responded immediately, his hand moving from your chin to the back of your neck, his grip possessive but gentle.
His other hand slid around your waist, pulling your body against his, the heat of his touch igniting something inside you that you had tried to ignore. The kiss was intense, consuming—everything you had been pushing down rising to the surface.
He backed you towards the wall, his body pressing against yours, and you could feel the tension between you both, the energy swirling in the space around you. You kissed him back, feeling the surge of desire you hadn’t realized was building up inside you.
In that moment, everything else faded away—the doubt, the fear, the confusion. All that mattered was the way he held you, the way he kissed you, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing in the world.
Ni-ki’s lips lingered for just a moment longer before he pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your face. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hands gently resting on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing in small circles.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low, full of awe. “I don’t know if you realize it, but you really are.” His eyes searched yours, intense and filled with something that felt almost too deep to understand, yet you couldn’t help but drown in it. “You’re perfect. Everything about you, your smile, the way you think… It’s everything I could ever want.”
You stood there, your heart beating faster, warmth blooming in your chest. No one had ever spoken to you like that before, with such intensity, such devotion. It was intoxicating.
“You make me feel like I’m the luckiest person in the world,” he continued, his lips curling into a smile, almost possessive in its warmth. “I love everything about you.” His voice dropped lower, more intimate. “I love how you trust me. How you’re mine.”
His words wrapped around you like silk, each compliment sinking deeper into your chest, making you feel cherished, wanted in a way that left you breathless. It was like he had tapped into something inside you, something you didn’t even know was there.
“You make me feel like nothing else matters,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to gently hold your cheek. “I need you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
You felt a soft smile tug at the corner of your lips, your heart swelling with something that almost felt too big for your chest. For a moment, you almost forgot about everything else—about the doubts, the warnings, the nagging feeling that there was something off. It didn’t matter. Because in that moment, Ni-ki was the center of your world.
And the way he looked at you, so tender, so fixated, made you believe that you were the only one who could make him feel this way.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll always love you. No one else, just you.”
You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotion that swelled in your chest. You didn’t question it.
Because in that moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was him. And the love he gave you. The kind of love that wrapped around you like chains, making you feel like you were everything to him.
You didn’t need to know that it wasn’t the healthy kind of love. The kind of love that makes you feel safe, seen, and valued. No, this was the kind of love that thrived on obsession, on want, The kind of love that turned into possession, into something dangerous.
But you didn’t need to know that. Not yet.
--
The cool evening air wrapped around you as you walked down the dimly lit street, the soft hum of the city’s late-night life barely audible. Your fingers danced across your phone’s screen, sending a quick text to Ni-ki. You smiled at the thought of him, your chest warm with the affection you’d come to associate with him in these past few days. It had been a week since any news of the killer had surfaced in the area, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to feel a little at ease.
The street was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant sound of cars passing.
But the moment you raised your eyes from your phone, something shifted in the air.
The silence seemed heavier now, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. Your heartbeat quickened, and despite your attempts to ignore it, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You slowed your pace, scanning the quiet street, looking for any sign of movement, but saw nothing. Nothing that seemed out of place.
Yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. You had ignored it before, the anxiety bubbling up every now and then, but tonight… tonight, it felt different.
You kept walking, fingers tightening around your phone, clutching it like a lifeline. You tried to push the thought out of your mind, convincing yourself it was nothing, just the remnants of your paranoia, but your instincts were screaming.
Your eyes darted from the street to the alleyways, scanning the shadows. The streetlights flickered as you walked past them, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to move with you. You quickened your pace, not sure why, but feeling an undeniable need to get home, to the safety of your apartment.
Then, a sharp sound broke the stillness behind you.
You froze.
Footsteps—fast, heavy, and far too close.
You turned around, eyes wide, but the street was empty. The night air felt colder now, and you felt the rush of adrenaline hit your bloodstream. Your mind raced, trying to find logic in the situation, trying to explain the sudden unease that crawled under your skin. You glanced back at your phone, feeling a desperate need to call Ni-ki, to hear his voice. But then your phone buzzed in your hand, and your breath caught in your throat.
It was a message from him. “Are you home yet? I’m thinking about you.”
You took a shaky breath, attempting to steady yourself, but it didn’t help. Something felt wrong. Your heart pounded in your chest, your senses on edge. You turned the corner, taking a route that led you toward your apartment building, but before you could take another step, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up again.
The footsteps were louder now, closing in.
And this time, you could feel it—someone was behind you. You didn’t dare turn around. Instead, you broke into a sprint, desperate to make it to the safety of your apartment. Your heart raced, pumping with fear, as your footfalls echoed in the night. You could hear the sound of running footsteps following you, getting closer, faster.
With every beat of your heart, you felt the fear building. Your breaths came in sharp gasps as you rounded the last corner before your building came into sight. The lights were on in the lobby, a beacon of safety you were nearly within reach of.
But just as you reached the door, a cold hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back into the shadows.
You felt the sharp tug of your wrist as you got dragged further into the shadows, your heart racing as panic surged through your veins. His grip was iron-tight, and each step he took felt like it was pulling you farther from safety. The familiar, chilling voice whispered again, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Did you really think you were safe?” he murmured, the words coated in something dark.
The world seemed to slow as you looked around, your eyes desperately searching for help. And then, in that moment, you saw him—Jiung. He was walking out of the apartment building, his expression tight, a storm cloud of anger above his head.
Without thinking, you swung your head back, using the only weapon you had—the back of your skull. You slammed it against the killer’s face with all your might. The sound of it echoed in the night, and he grunted in pain, stumbling back. The grip on your wrist loosened for just a second.
That was all you needed.
You took off running.
“Jiung!” you screamed, voice hoarse with fear. “The killer is here!”
Jiung whipped around at the sound of your voice. His eyes widened in shock and recognition as he saw the state you were in, but there was no hesitation. He grabbed your wrist without a second thought and pulled you down the street with him. Your heart pounded in your chest as your feet barely touched the ground.
The sound of your footsteps echoed in the night, but Jiung’s determination led you to safety. He didn’t stop running until you reached a narrow alleyway, the faint glow of a streetlamp casting long shadows against the walls. He yanked you behind a dumpster, urgency in every movement.
“Stay quiet,” Jiung hissed, fumbling for his phone with shaky hands. His breath was quick, his eyes scanning the street, his voice low and urgent. “We need to wait until he passes. Don’t make a sound.”
You nodded, pressing yourself against the cold brick wall, trying to steady your breathing. Your body felt like it was on fire from adrenaline, but there was no time to process it. You had to stay quiet. You had to stay hidden.
You peaked through behing the dumpster, your breath barely a whisper as you watched the street. The killer was there, his head scanning the area. His posture was tense, each step measured, and it made your stomach drop.
You quickly pulled your head back, heart racing. Your eyes met Jiung’s, and the terror in them was mirrored in his. He pressed a finger to his lips, motioning for you to stay as still as possible. You did, trying to make yourself as small as possible, breathing shallowly, praying he wouldn’t find you.
You pushed back against the wall even further, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, hoping the fear would subside, but it only grew. You could hear the faint shuffle of the killer’s footsteps, closer now. Every sound felt louder in the silence of the alley. Your pulse drummed in your ears, and your chest tightened.
Jiung’s phone buzzed in his hand, but he didn’t dare answer it. Instead, his eyes locked onto yours, full of resolve. He would protect you, no matter what. But the question was, how long could you stay hidden? How long until he found you?
You felt the seconds stretch into what felt like eternity, your body frozen in place. The cold air seemed to grow heavier as every nerve in your body screamed for you to move, to run, to do something—anything. But your feet remained rooted to the ground as the wind shifted, carrying with it the familiar, suffocating scent of the killer.
You opened your eyes, your breath catching in your throat as your gaze landed on him.
There he was.
He stood there, just a few feet away, his eyes locked on you. His voice was low, almost mocking, as he leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving you.
"Found you," he said, his tone sending an ice-cold shiver down your spine.
Before you could react, the terror overwhelmed you. Your throat felt tight as a scream tore its way out of you, a cry of desperation, of pure fear. You backed away, stumbling, but there was nowhere to go.
Jiung reacted instantly, leaping up from behind the dumpster, his body moving with the speed of someone who had no choice but to fight. He threw himself at the killer, fists flying. They collided with each other in a flurry of punches and kicks, a blur of movement and desperation.
But the killer was prepared. He pulled out a knife, gleaming cold under the dim streetlights, and without hesitation, he lunged.
Time seemed to slow as the blade plunged into Jiung’s abdomen, a sickening sound echoing in the alley.
You froze, unable to move, unable to breathe, as Jiung gasped, his hands clutching at the wound. Blood spilled between his fingers, and you could see the life draining from his face as he stumbled back. His breath came in quick, shallow gasps.
But Jiung wasn’t done yet. Despite the pain, despite the blood spilling from him, he refused to back down. His hand shot out toward a pile of broken glass nearby—sharp shards that glittered like jagged teeth in the dim light. His fingers wrapped around one, and with a primal yell, he swung it at the killer.
The sharp glass met the killer’s skin, drawing a streak of blood across his arm. The killer grunted in pain, momentarily stunned, but he recovered quickly. His eyes locked onto Jiung’s, full of rage, as he prepared to strike again.
You sat there, paralyzed, unable to do anything but watch in horror as the two men fought, the sound of fists meeting flesh, the sickening slashes of the knife cutting through the air. Your mind was screaming for you to act, to help, but your body refused to obey.
All you could do was watch the violence unfold before you, heart pounding in your chest, terrified of what would happen next.
In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stop. Jiung, his face contorted with pain and fury, managed to land a punch to the killer's jaw. The force of the blow sent the killer stumbling back, giving Jiung a brief but crucial opening.
With a desperate gasp, Jiung grabbed the killer’s mask, his hands trembling with the effort, and in one swift motion, he tore it off.
The world around you seemed to freeze as the dim streetlight illuminated the face beneath the mask. The face you had seen so many times before—every day, every week.
It was Ni-ki.
Your heart slammed against your ribcage, your breath caught in your throat. It couldn’t be—this wasn’t possible. Your mind refused to process it, even as the sight before you screamed the truth.
Ni-ki’s face was battered, blood smeared across his nose, a split lip, and a cut above his eyebrow. But despite the damage, despite the blood, he still wore that same, twisted smile. The kind of smile that made your stomach turn, the kind that sent a chill down your spine.
He looked at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement, and with the bloodstained remnants of his smile, he spoke.
“Surprise, doll.”
The words echoed in your head, ringing louder than the chaos around you. The killer—the man who had been terrorizing the streets, the one who had been hunting you, was the very person you had let into your life. The man you had trusted. The man you love.
Ni-ki.
He stepped closer, blood dripping from his face as he took a slow, deliberate breath, savoring the shock on your face. The man you thought you knew, the one who had played the role of the charming, protective figure, was now standing before you as the very monster you had feared.
And he was enjoying every second of it.
Jiung, weak and struggling to stay on his feet, gritted his teeth as he raised the shard of glass again, ready to fight, but the sheer realization of what Ni-ki was sent a wave of terror crashing over you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think straight.
Ni-ki's eyes flickered to Jiung, then back to you, his smile widening, dark and crazy. He reached up to wipe the blood from his nose, his voice low, almost amused as he looked at the two of you.
“You really thought you could stop me? Cute.” He chuckled, a sound that made your blood run cold.
Everything you thought you knew—everything you had believed about him—was a lie. The person you had been so drawn to, the one who had seemed so perfect, was the very person who had been hunting you all along.
Ni-ki’s smile never wavered as he approached Jiung, who was struggling to stay conscious, his breath shallow and ragged. The bleeding from his stab wound had only worsened as he lay there, weakened and unable to defend himself.
Ni-ki crouched down beside Jiung, his fingers trailing lazily over the blood-soaked ground, clearly enjoying the sight of his former victim.
“You know,” Ni-ki murmured, his voice low and dripping with mockery, “you were right. You figured me out before anyone else did.” He tilted his head, a cruel gleam flashing in his eyes. “But it was a stupid way to prove it, don’t you think?”
Jiung, barely clinging to consciousness, managed to grit his teeth, his hands shaking as he tried to push himself up. He cursed Ni-ki out through his bloodstained lips, his voice rough but filled with defiance. “You’re insane, Ni-ki. You’re nothing but a sick, twisted bastard.”
Ni-ki didn’t flinch. In fact, he laughed, the sound almost too light for the situation, as if it was all some kind of sick joke to him. He reached out, grabbing Jiung by the collar of his shirt and jerking him up slightly before slamming him back down onto the cold, filthy pavement.
Jiung let out a pained gasp, trying to punch him, but his efforts were weak, his body too battered and bloodied to fight properly. Ni-ki easily dodged, stepping aside with a lazy grin. “Come on, Jiung, I thought you were better than that.” He made a mocking sound, almost disappointed. “You’re just a nobody, trying to play somebody. But you’ll never be anybody.”
With a swift movement, Ni-ki stepped back and let Jiung fall back to the floor, helpless and weak. He turned his attention back to you, eyes glinting with the same unsettling hunger he’d always had.
“You’re mine now, doll,” Ni-ki purred, his voice low and possessive. The way he looked at you now was different, like a predator sizing up its prey. “And I’m not letting you go.”
His words sent a chill down your spine, a mix of fear and a strange, confusing part of you that still wasn’t sure how to feel. He stood there, watching you with an almost calculating gaze, his smirk never leaving his face as he took in the way you reacted to the scene before you.
Suddenly the sound of sirens pierced the air, their wail growing louder, closer. For a brief moment, Ni-ki froze, his eyes flashing with irritation. His gaze snapped from you to the distant entrance of the alleyway as the first set of flashing lights illuminated the street.
“No…” he muttered under his breath, before cursing loudly. “Not now!”
Without a second thought, he spun on his heel and sprinted, darting into the shadows, his footsteps quick and erratic. You barely registered his movement as you looked up, heart pounding, to see the police officers now rushing toward the scene.
“Shoot!” Jiung’s weak, pained shout broke through the ringing in your ears, the officers opened fire. The sound of gunshots echoed through the alleyway, and you flinched, eyes wide with terror as you heard Ni-ki shout in pain.
“Move! Move!” one of the officers shouted, his voice urgent. Another officer, with the familiar stride of someone used to chasing down criminals, sprinted after Ni-ki, disappearing into the night.
The remaining officers rushed to you and Jiung, the crackling urgency in their movements. One of them knelt by Jiung’s side, his face grim as he assessed the situation. The other officer quickly turned to you, his hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you. “Stay with him,” he urged. “We’ve called an ambulance. It’s on the way.”
But you knew. You knew that it might be too late. You saw Jiung’s face, pale and drawn with blood, his breath ragged and shallow, the crimson slowly spreading across his chest. His eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open.
“Jiung…” You whispered his name, voice shaky, as you crouched down next to him. His hand reached out weakly, grasping yours with a weak, trembling hold.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. His eyes were cloudy, but he was still looking at you, even if it seemed so distant now. “I tried to… I tried to protect you…”
Tears blurred your vision. “You did, Jiung. You did.”
His faint smile made your heart shatter, but there was nothing you could do now, nothing but to stay with him.
The ambulance finally arrived, and the paramedics rushed in, their movements swift and professional, trying desperately to stabilize Jiung. They didn’t waste time, quickly getting him onto the stretcher and into the back of the ambulance.
You sat in the back of the ambulance, your heart in your throat, as they worked on him, trying to keep his weak pulse steady. Every bump in the road seemed like it could be the last.
The hospital came into view soon enough, and you felt numb as they rolled Jiung inside, their movements swift and precise, but it all felt too late. The doctors rushed to assess him, shouting orders, and you were left standing in the sterile hallway, your heart pounding in your chest.
Every passing minute felt like an eternity. You had been checked for injuries, given a few mild sedatives to calm your nerves, but nothing could ease the gnawing anxiety gnawing at your stomach. You needed news. You needed to know if Jiung was okay. If he had survived.
You waited. And waited.
You didn’t know how much time had passed when a doctor finally appeared at the door, his face grim but not completely hopeless.
“Are you here for Jiung?” the doctor asked, his tone serious.
“Yes,” you said, standing up too quickly, your knees unsteady. “How is he?”
The doctor hesitated, looking at you carefully. “We’ve managed to stabilize him, but it’s touch-and-go. His injuries are severe. We’re doing everything we can, but we can’t promise anything.”
You nodded numbly, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Please… don’t let him die.”
The doctor gave you a small, sympathetic nod, before turning to walk down the hall, leaving you in that suffocating silence again. You didn’t know what else to do. You had no strength left.
But you didn’t leave.
--
The moment the doctor told you the good news, you felt like a weight you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying was lifted from your chest. He was stable, still weak, but his heart rate had steadied, and the monitors that had been beeping in a steady rhythm now felt like a lifeline.
You stepped into the sterile room, the sound of the heart monitor beeping steadily filling the air. Jiung was still unconscious, but the rhythm of his heartbeat on the monitor brought you a sense of relief you hadn’t realized you needed. The steady beep seemed like the only reassuring sound in the world right now.
You pulled a chair beside his bed, your hand gently resting on his. It was warm, his skin still carrying the weight of the battle he’d fought. The wounds were bandaged, the cuts and bruises still visible, but there was a certain peacefulness now. The machines were there to help him, to keep him alive. His breath was soft, but steady.
“You’re going to be okay,” you whispered, your voice hoarse, but full of hope. “You’re going to be okay, Jiung.”
You spent the next few hours in that quiet, sterile room, making sure that Jiung had everything he needed. When his family arrived, you greeted them with a nod, letting them take over. They seemed so relieved, and you could tell that the weight on their shoulders was starting to lift. But there was still a long road ahead.
After some time, the police came, and you were escorted to the station for questioning. The tightness in your chest from the night before was still there, and the quiet hum of the station didn’t do anything to calm you.
You sat nervously in the sterile, fluorescent-lit room of the police station, your hands pressed tightly together in your lap, your mind racing. The low hum of conversation and the shuffle of paperwork echoed from the hallway, but inside the room, it felt like everything was suspended in a heavy silence.
A detective entered the room, his expression serious. He was holding a folder, flipping through papers before glancing up at you. “We’ve got an update,” he said, his voice flat.
You sat up straighter, trying to prepare yourself for what was to come, but the unease that had settled deep in your chest couldn’t be shaken. “Is it about Ni-ki?”
The detective paused for a moment, then nodded. “He’s gone.”
The words hit you like a punch in the gut. You blinked, feeling the world shift beneath your feet. “Gone?” you repeated, unable to comprehend. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”
“They lost him,” the detective explained, his voice barely betraying any emotion. “We thought we had him cornered. But there was no sign of him anywhere. No trail, no leads.”
You swallowed hard, the room suddenly feeling too small. Your thoughts raced, your chest tightening as you grappled with the realization that Ni-ki had somehow escaped. How was that even possible?
“How?” you whispered, more to yourself than to the detective. “How could he just... disappear?”
The detective’s eyes softened slightly, as if sensing the turmoil inside you. “We’re still investigating, but from the evidence we gathered, we think he’s been one step ahead of us the whole time. He could be anywhere by now.”
Your mind went blank, the world spinning around you. Ni-ki—your Ni-ki—was gone.
Suddenly officers surrounded you with questions, all trying to piece together the night’s events, asking for every detail.
You answered as best you could, your mind replaying the horrible events that had unfolded over the past few weeks. Every time they asked about Ni-ki, the feelings in your chest tightened, and it took everything in you to answer without faltering.
It wasn’t until one of the detectives asked you a question you didn’t expect that your breath caught in your throat.
“Has Ni-ki contacted you?” the detective asked, his voice firm but measured. “We know you two are close. If he reaches out again, we’d like you to wear a wire. We can use you as bait to catch him.”
You froze. The words hung in the air, thick with their implications. The flashbacks to every moment with Ni-ki flooded your mind—his kindness, his protection, the way he’d whispered promises to you, the way he held you, the way he looked at you. You remembered the way he told you that he loved you, the way he made you feel safe. You remembered the thrill, the obsession, the pull of his presence.
You swallowed hard. You had always known, deep down, that something wasn’t right. But your love for him had blinded you. You couldn’t ignore it anymore. He was a murderer, a criminal, and as much as you hated to admit it, you knew he was guilty of everything they were accusing him of.
But still, the hesitation gnawed at you.
“Do you think he’ll hurt you?” the detective asked, noticing the uncertainty in your face.
You didn’t answer immediately. You thought of his words: “I would never hurt you, doll.” His voice echoed in your mind. He had never hurt you, had he? You were still alive, still breathing.
But the question lingered—could you trust him? Could you really risk everything for a man who had been hiding his true nature from you all along? A man who had killed without remorse?
You took a deep breath, the weight of the decision heavy on your chest. Slowly, you nodded.
“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do it.”
The detective gave you a nod of approval, but you could feel the heaviness in the air. You weren’t sure if you had made the right choice, but you knew it was the only option you had. The man you loved was dangerous. And the only way to stop him, to protect others, was to help the police catch him.
The thought of wearing a wire, of luring him in, made your stomach twist with anxiety. But you couldn’t ignore the truth. Ni-ki was a killer, and it was time to face that reality.
“Thank you,” the detective said. “We’ll arrange everything. Just stay in touch, and when he reaches out, we’ll be ready.”
You nodded, feeling numb. You left the station, your thoughts swirling. The weight of what you’d just agreed to hung over you.
When you got home, the sight of Ni-ki’s apartment door covered with police tape sent a cold shiver down your spine. The red-and-white stripes, the ominous warning of a crime scene, were a stark reminder of how close to the edge you had come. How everything had spiraled out of control, and how much you had been willing to ignore just to hold onto something—or someone—you thought you could trust.
With a deep breath, you turned away and walked into your own apartment, the familiar surroundings offering little comfort as you closed the door behind you. The silence in your space was suffocating, every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet somehow louder than usual.
You didn’t do much that night. No calls, no messages, no distractions. You just walked to your bed and collapsed on it, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing in around you. You could feel the tension in your body, the deep ache in your chest where love and regret tangled together in a confusing knot.
The memories of him, of his touch, his smile, his voice, and all the promises he’d made to you… it was too much to bear all at once. You didn’t know what to feel anymore, what to believe. Every memory, every whisper of his voice felt like it was suffocating you, forcing you to hold on when all you wanted was to let go.
--
A few days passed, the police investigation continuing but yielding no new leads. You tried to keep your life as normal as possible, but the weight of the unknown pressed down on you every minute of the day. The fear that Ni-ki could be watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, never left you.
Your phone buzzed suddenly, the vibration echoing in the empty room. At first, you didn't think much of it, but as you glanced at the screen, something caught your attention. The message was from an unknown number, and your heart skipped a beat. It was a message you hadn’t been expecting, but deep down, you knew exactly who it was from.
The message itself was simple, only a few words, but it sent a jolt of fear down your spine.
“Doll, I’ve missed you.”
Your breath hitched in your chest, and your fingers trembled slightly as you stared at the screen. The word doll was unmistakable. Ni-ki. It could only be him.
For a moment, you sat frozen, every muscle in your body tight, your mind racing as the weight of his message sank in. You wanted to call the police, to reach out for help, but a part of you held you back. You had no idea where he was, but there was an undeniable pull that made it hard to ignore him.
You hesitated for a moment, then typed back a simple question, your fingers unsteady.
“What do you want from me?”
The response came quickly, almost immediately, and it sent a chill down your spine.
“Just a little reunion. I think you’ll be happy to see me."
You quickly typed back, your fingers trembling as you struggled to keep your hands steady.
"Where?"
The seconds that passed felt like hours, your pulse quickening as you waited for a response. Finally, the phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with another message.
This time, it was different. There were no words. Only an address.
An address that made your stomach drop.
"Come alone."
You stared at the screen, your mind racing. The fear started to set in as you thought about the implications of the message. Was this a trap? Or was he truly trying to see you again? Your thoughts spun in every direction, but one thing was clear—he wanted to meet. And somehow, you knew that he was in control of this situation.
Your hand hovered over your phone, your body frozen in indecision. Every part of you screamed to ignore the message, to let the police handle it. But you knew Ni-ki wasn’t that easy to catch. He’d always been two steps ahead.
You looked at the address again, the numbers blurred by your anxious tears. You couldn’t tell if you were ready to face him, but deep down, you knew you were already preparing yourself for what was to come. You had to go. You had to see him one last time.
With trembling hands, you typed a simple response:
"I’ll be there."
The message sent, and you felt a knot form in your stomach.
--
The next night, the air felt heavier than usual. You stood at the address Ni-ki had sent, staring at the old, abandoned building in front of you. The structure was decaying, graffiti littering its walls, the windows cracked and boarded up. It looked like the perfect place for a secret meeting, a place no one would think to look. The chill of the night sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself glancing around, half-expecting someone to jump out at you.
Nobody.
You checked your phone, noticing you were a bit early. The minutes ticked by slowly, each one stretching longer than the last. The silence felt heavy, each creak and rustle sending your nerves on edge. You took a steadying breath, wondering if maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t show up.
But then, you felt it. A presence, warm and unsettlingly familiar, hovering close behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as a low voice whispered near your ear, smooth yet laced with that teasing edge you knew all too well.
“Didn’t think you’d actually show, doll,” he purred, his voice sinking into your bones.
Your heart leaped, and you spun around, coming face to face with him. “You’re a little early, aren’t you?” Ni-ki purred, his steps slow and confident as he closed the distance between you, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “Did you think I’d forget about you?”
His gaze was intense, studying every little reaction from you. It was like he was savoring this moment, his dark eyes never leaving yours, his lips curling into that unsettling grin that made you feel both drawn to him and repulsed at the same time.
You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you tried to piece together your next move. What were you supposed to say? Your body tensed, but your feet remained rooted to the spot, your arms folded tightly across your chest as if to protect yourself from the overwhelming pull he had over you.
“Why did you bring me here, Ni-ki?” You managed, your voice steadier than you felt, but inside you could feel your nerves unraveling.
Ni-ki chuckled softly, taking another step closer. “To see you, doll. To see if you’re ready to stop pretending you’re someone else, stop running.” His fingers brushed against your arm lightly, and you flinched, though he didn’t seem to care.
He moved even closer, his face only inches from yours. “You’ve been running from me, haven’t you?” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “You didn’t really think I’d let you go so easily, did you?”
The realization hit you hard. He hadn’t contacted you to let go or to explain—he had brought you here to remind you that he still had you, wrapped up in his world, whether you wanted it or not. And as his fingers reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, you knew he wasn’t going to let you slip away.
“Oh, doll,” he murmured, his words dripping with twisted affection. “I thought you’d realize by now—you and I, we’re… inevitable. I’m part of you, as much as you are part of me. We fit, don’t you see? That little thrill you get, that rush in your veins when you’re with me… it’s more than just fear.” He paused, his eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive. “It’s excitement, isn’t it?”
He tilted his head, watching every twitch of your expression, every flicker of hesitation in your eyes. "You like it, don’t you? The thrill of it all, the mystery, the danger… If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have come here tonight. You didn’t have to answer that message.” His hand moved, slipping to the back of your neck, his thumb grazing over your pulse, feeling the rapid beat under his fingers. “But you wanted to. Part of you was… curious. Maybe even… drawn to me. You still want to see me, even after everything."
You swallowed, feeling a chill at how easily he could see right through you, peeling away layers to reach the uncertainty you’d tried to bury. His gaze held yours, and you felt paralyzed under it, trapped in the intensity of his words.
“I make you feel alive, don’t I?” His voice was barely above a whisper now, the words wrapping around you, pulling you in despite yourself. “Tell me, honestly. Do you really want to go back to your quiet, predictable life, or do you want to be here, with me?”
Your heart raced under his touch, every word sinking in deeper, stirring up feelings you had tried so hard to push down. Part of you wanted to resist, to walk away and bury this twisted pull he seemed to have over you. But as you looked into his eyes, his gaze so intense it felt like he was unraveling every part of you, you realized how hard it was to lie to yourself any longer.
As his hand slipped from your neck, trailing down your arm to finally capture your wrist, he tightened his grip just enough to make you feel the weight of his hold. “You were always meant to be here, doll. That’s why you came tonight, why you didn’t stay away. You could have told the police, could’ve run in any direction—but you came here, to me. You’re not running, not really.”
Ni-ki leaned closer, his mouth just beside your ear. “I know you don’t want to admit it, but… you’re mine, and I’m yours. It’s just the way it is. No one else would understand you the way I do.” His words were laced with dark promise, wrapping around you like a spell, coaxing you into that familiar, dangerous warmth.
“And you can try to push me away again,” he whispered, his breath warm and steady, “but it’ll never work, because I’m already in here.” His finger tapped lightly against your temple, and then he let his hand fall, brushing down your arm. “Deep down, you don’t want me to leave, do you? You don’t want to lose me.”
The realization sunk deeper, and he leaned back, smirking as he took in the flicker of doubt he’d stirred in your eyes. “So why don’t you just accept it? Stop fighting, and give in to what we both know is already there.”
You held his gaze, feeling the heat of his grip on your neck, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Every warning bell in your mind rang out, but they were muffled, tangled up in the intensity of his presence, in the dark thrill of being so close to him. You wanted to pull away, to deny the pull he had over you, but you knew it was no use. He was right; you were already caught in his orbit, unable to resist him fully.
Your voice was barely a whisper as you answered, your own words feeling both like a confession and a surrender. “I… I don’t want you to leave,” you admitted, feeling the last of your defenses crumble as you looked up at him. “I tried to run, tried to push you away… but you’re right. I don’t want to lose you.”
His smirk deepened, satisfaction glinting in his eyes as he held you close. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, thumb brushing softly along your jaw. “See? You’re exactly where you belong. With me.”
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a softness that seemed almost out of place given the tension swirling around you. And then you gave in, letting him pull you closer, his hands pressing against your back as he deepened the kiss, pouring every unspoken word, every dark promise, into it. It was desperate, raw, and so intense that it felt like he was claiming you, binding you to him with a connection that you couldn’t ignore, no matter how wrong it felt.
When you finally pulled back, your breath unsteady, you met his eyes, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions rise in your chest. You loved him, or maybe it was more accurate to say you loved the way he made you feel, the way he held you as if you were the center of his universe. But you knew—deep down, somewhere you’d tried to ignore—that this was unsustainable. Dangerous. A boundary crossed that couldn’t be uncrossed.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, a tremble in your voice.
Just then, the sound of footsteps and the bark of commands echoed through the building. The police swarmed the room, moving in, guns raised and voices sharp. Ni-ki’s face twisted in fury as he took a step back, his body coiled. He fought, thrashing against the officers who closed in on him, a snarl on his face as he shoved, swung, and resisted with every bit of strength he had.
“Get off me!” he roared, his eyes searching wildly until they found yours. He kept fighting, even as they forced him down, the weight of handcuffs snapping around his wrists with a finality that cut into the air like a knife. “No! Let me go! You can’t keep me!”
They pulled you back, and an officer shielded you as Ni-ki thrashed, his desperate gaze locked onto you, his voice growing louder, more desperate, with each passing second. “She’s mine! You can’t keep us apart!” His voice cracked, but the fury remained as they dragged him, his eyes searing into yours with a mixture of anger and desperation.
And despite everything, the weight of the heartbreak fell over you like a shroud. Tears blurred your vision, your chest tightening painfully as he was pulled out of the building, his screams fading into the night. You knew this was the only way, the only choice you had if you wanted to break free of his dangerous hold.
But some twisted part of you yearned for him, for the way he’d made you feel, for the thrilling, frightening attention he had given you. The line between love and fear had blurred beyond recognition, and as the officers led you away, you could still feel the haunting echo of his words.
In the silence, you knew you’d never be the same.
--
The news spread quickly—The killer was caught. People felt safe again; there was a renewed sense of calm throughout the city, like a collective sigh of relief after months of fear. It was over. Even Jiung, recovering in the hospital, felt a victorious pride in knowing he had been right all along. The police had commended him, his bravery gaining him recognition, a promotion, and a hefty raise. He was the hero of this story, finally validated.
But for you, life had taken a different turn. Every day felt hollow without Ni-ki. The nights were the hardest, when the memories of him became a ghost haunting the quiet hours. You would lie awake, your mind replaying the stolen glances, the thrill of his attention, the depth in his eyes when he looked at you. You missed him, an ache buried so deep it was almost painful. You’d wake from dreams where he was still with you, his arms wrapped around you, his lips brushing against your skin, whispering that you were his.
It was wrong, you told yourself over and over, to feel this way. But he had given you something no one else ever had, even in all its twisted intensity. His devotion, unhinged and consuming, had been a kind of dark comfort that felt impossible to replace.
You tried to fill your days with normal things, going through the motions, reconnecting with friends, putting on a brave face. But it was never enough. The nights stretched on endlessly, his absence lingering in every shadow, the memories of him entwining with the silence, pulling you back to a place that you wished you could escape from, but part of you never truly wanted to let go.
--
It had been weeks since they’d taken him away, weeks since you’d forced yourself to start a new chapter. You’d moved to a better part of town, the kind of place you hoped would feel safe, far from the past and far from the memories of him. But today, standing in your living room, the news alert on your phone shook you to your core:
Ni-ki had escaped from prison.
The words didn’t seem real. You read them again, your heart pounding louder with each second. He had escaped? The walls of your new apartment suddenly felt too thin, too fragile. The past weeks had been a struggle, true, but you had managed to convince yourself that it was over. That he was gone. That you were safe.
And now? You could practically hear his voice in your mind, that teasing, low murmur, saying he’d find you wherever you went. The memories flooded back—how he looked at you, how he made you feel like the only person in his world.
Your phone buzzed again, and your breath hitched, a small part of you both dreading and hoping it was him.
But it was a message from Jiung: "Stay inside. Lock all doors and windows. Police are already on high alert."
You sat down, trying to gather your thoughts. He couldn’t know where you were, could he? You’d been careful, had avoided any trace of the life you’d shared in that darker part of town. And yet, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that he was already close. That he’d find you, just like he promised.
An unsettling thrill ran through you, a twisted reminder of the love that still lingered, even after everything. You whispered to yourself, clutching your phone tightly, “What am I going to do?”
You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting there, the news about Ni-ki’s escape still echoing in your mind, when you heard the faintest sound outside your door. It was soft at first, almost imperceptible, like the creak of old wood underfoot. Your heart raced, eyes darting to the door. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, waiting for it to happen again.
Then you heard it—a quiet knock, a rhythm you knew too well. Your stomach churned, and instinctively, your feet moved toward the door. You tried to stop yourself, but your hand had already reached for the handle, your body pulling you closer to something you couldn’t resist.
You opened the door just a crack, and there he was—Ni-ki.
He stood there in the hallway, his familiar dark eyes staring back at you, intense and unrelenting. His jaw was set, his expression something dark.
For a moment, neither of you moved. He took one slow step forward, and without even thinking, you found yourself stepping into his arms, pressing your face into his chest, your body trembling as you hugged him tightly.
“You found me,” you whispered, your voice a mix of fear and longing. You didn’t care anymore. In this moment, it felt like he was the only thing that made sense in your life, the only thing that could put you at ease.
He wrapped his arms around you, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe. “I told you I would,” he murmured, his voice almost playful despite the heaviness of his words.
His hands were on your back, gently caressing you as he whispered more words of possession, of devotion, his voice low and hypnotic. "You're the only one who understands me… the only one who’s ever really seen me."
Before you could respond, he tilted your chin up, his gaze never leaving yours, and leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, soft at first, before his kiss deepened, seizing control, pulling you closer. You couldn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.
The kiss felt familiar, intense, almost suffocating. There was no turning back now. It was as if everything that had happened before—the pain, the fear, the escape—had led to this moment.
His fingers tangled in your hair, and his lips brushed against your ear as he continued, his voice a dangerous mixture of softness and intensity. “I told you, doll,” he whispered, each word drawing you in deeper, “no one else could ever love you the way I do. No one else knows you like I do.”
He leaned back slightly, just enough to study your face, his dark eyes filled with a twisted sort of devotion. “You tried to replace me, didn’t you?” he asked, though the question was more of a knowing accusation. “But it didn’t work. You felt it too. No one could make you feel this alive… not like I can.”
You swallowed, caught in his gaze, and even as a shiver of fear flickered through you, it was overshadowed by the intoxicating pull he had. The way his eyes roamed over you made your heart pound, every glance and touch leaving a mark you couldn’t shake.
His hand moved from your hair, trailing down your shoulder and then your arm, coming to rest on your waist. “You can try to deny it,” he whispered, his mouth hovering just above yours, “but I know you missed this… missed me.” His fingers tightened, holding you with certainty, like he was reaffirming his claim. “It’s in your eyes, doll.”
In that moment, he pressed his lips to yours again, the kiss deep, full of all the things he wouldn’t say—how he’d waited, how he’d planned, how he wouldn’t let you slip away again. His hold was unrelenting, a reminder that you were his, that no matter how much you tried to run or forget, he would always come back for you.
When he finally pulled back, his gaze intense, he murmured, “There’s no life without me, doll. We’re meant to be.” His fingers brushed down your face as he continued, “I’ll take care of you. Protect you. Nobody else deserves you but me. And now… you’re never escaping me again.”
And despite the warning in his words, you found yourself nodding, caught in his spell, the line between fear and desire blurring with every touch, every whisper.
#niki x reader#riki nishimura x reader#nishimura riki#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen fic#enhypen#enhypen riki#riki x reader#niki imagines#niki enhypen#riki imagines#enhypen x you#niki fluff#niki x you#niki x y/n#niki nishimura#fanfiction#kpop fanfic#killer au#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#ni ki
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I'm very excited to see another event. I loved the last one I got to request. If possible, could I request Zayne for prompt number ten?
Thank you, and please take care of yourself.
Hello there! Glad to see you back on my page. Yeah, I usually try to do Thirsty Weekends twice a month, it's just been a little hard with the holiday season and whatnot.
"It’s a Christmas sale! All clothes in my house are 100% off."
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Zayne holds the door open so that you can quickly get into his apartment. The snow was falling heavily outside and you shake your head to dislodge the flakes that have fallen on your cute woolen hat. Zayne stomps his boots on the welcome mat, leaving powder everywhere as he does so. All the Christmas shopping you'd managed to complete was tucked away inside the various bags both of you were holding.
"Thank god we decided to go by car. Can you imagine walking around in all this snow?" You ask ask you remove your coat and mittens. Zayne nods as he undoes his scarf, hanging it on the coatrack by the door.
"The weather app has done it's due diligence. I'll be sure to give it a 5 star rating." You tip toe to brush some snow off his hair.
"I'll get the tea started. Let's leave all the bags on the table." you wander into the kitchen to get the kettle boiling before coming back to the living room to find Zayne seated comfortably on the couch. With the snow outside and the merry holiday decorations inside, it was the the epitome of holiday joy. You settle down next to him, your head nestling on his shoulder as you enjoy the quiet warmth emanating between you two.
"Can you believe all these crazy holiday sales? Most of it was practically a steal!" You open one of the bags and ruffle through it, admiring your spoils.
"Sure, if by 'steal' you mean slightly less overpriced," Zayne says wryly with a hint of a smile on his face. You playfully punch his arm.
"Don't be that way. It's Christmas! It's the spirit of giving that counts." You get off the sofa to check on the kettle and Zayne follows you into the kitchen. As you start adding in the tea leaves, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, his warm breath tickling your ear.
"There's one last sale we are yet to check out," he murmurs and you feel goosebumps form on your skin.
"Oh? What sale is that?" You try to busy your hands with the kettle but his presence was proving to be too much of a distraction. His hands wander along your body sending a rush of excitement down your spine.
"It’s a Christmas sale. All clothes in my house are 100% off." Zayne softly palms your breasts through your sweater as he says this and your breath hitches at the movement. Your hands fumble for the burner and turn it off as Zayne softly sucks the skin on the back of your neck, making you squirm in his embrace.
Turning in his arms, you allow him to trap you between the stove and his body. "When did this sale start?" You ask, daring to look up at him even though you're sure your face is flushed.
"Just now. Is that a problem?" He pushes against you so that his hips lay flush against yours and your hands come up onto his chest. You shake your head no and he grip the backs of your thighs to hoist you up, and your legs wrap around his waist automatically as he carries you to his bedroom.
He lays you down on the bed, undressing you with care, pulling off your sweater followed by your leggings and socks. Meanwhile, you mirror the actions, tugging off his cardigan, smoothing his hair while you unzipped his slacks, palming the bulge that awaited you.
A low groan emanates from his throat as he leans down for a kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours as he grinds his erection against your thigh. Your hands cup his face as you kiss, letting them creep down to the ridge between his shoulder blades as he snaps open the catch of your bra, freeing your aching nipples which instantly perk up under his gaze. His tongue swirls delicately around one of them while he gently tugs on the other one, earning an soft whine of approval from you.
"Looks like this a sale you agree with hmm?" He coos softly at you as he removes your panties and dips his fingers inside your moistening folds. "There we are...perfect..." he slides up until his fingertips find your clit, giving a soft pet that has your hips arching towards him in need. You gaze up at him with hazy eyes that brings a deep sense of satisfaction within him.
"Let it out." He patiently strokes the little bud while his mouth busies itself with your nipples again, suckling in time with his movements on your clit. The combined sensations push you towards the edge and you're dangerously close to faling off it. You strain against him, panting as your core leaks on his sheets then let out a loud mewl as two of his fingers softly push inside you, finding the spongy patch of nerves deep within.
Overwhelmed by the pleasure, your body finally gives in and lets go, your breath tearing from your throat as you orgasm, the sensation rippling through your sensitized body. After ensuring you're thouroughly finished, Zayne licks his fingers clean before aligning himself with your entrance. You whimper in delight as he fills you, then gathers you close as he starts to thrust.
"Now this is what I call a holiday steal."
#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#love and deepspace smut#lads smut#l&ds smut#love and deepspace x reader#lads x reader#l&ds x reader#love and deepspace zayne#zayne x reader#lads zayne#zayne smut#zayne love and deepspace#thirsty weekend#thirst prompt#thirst game#ncs#ncs scribbles
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A little hurt comfort ft. your fav
He is in love with you. He is in love with your smile, your laughter, your radiance. He sits at your feet like a dog and basks in the warmth of your light. But he's not just in love with you, he loves you. He loves you through your sunshiny days and loves you through your stormy ones too. He loves the way you persevere, he's proud of his girl. But he also loves you when you need a minute to sit in the mud. He often stoops to sit and just experience it with you.
So, when you stumble into your apartment after a hard day: spilt coffee, harsh words, plans awry - he knows just what to do.
You aren't crying yet. Haven't even said a word. But he can see it. Your jaw is set, and your eyes are anywhere but on his. You set down your bag and hang up your things. He knows you, knows that you'll instantly book it to the bathroom to cry quietly to yourself. You hate being a bother. You duck into the kitchen to grab something, and he pads over to the bathroom as quietly as possible. He hears you sigh and shuffle in his direction as he prepares. The instant your feet hit the cool tile of the bathroom floor you nearly run into him. He stands right in front of you with a sympathetic smile and open arms - a silent invitation. You bite your lip and look towards your toes.
"If I hug you I might cry."
"I know. I'm here. We can talk later."
Your eyes dart up to his and you can feel yourself tearing up. You collapse into his embrace and sob into his chest. He smells fresh and clean and you hate to be dirtying his shirt with your snot and tears but you're too far gone anyways. His large hands cup your face and pet your hair. He gently drops to the floor with you and cradles you there as sobs wrack your body.
"I know baby girl. Just let it all out."
He wipes your tears away from your face with his large thumbs and you can't help but smile as he begins to tear up too. Every time you cry, he ends up crying too. It's actually kind of nice... It makes it feel like he's carrying the weight of your feelings too. You feel less alone. Slowly but surely the tears come fewer and fewer, and your breathing begins to steady. He picks you up like you are made of glass and gently sets you on the counter. You watch his muscular figure as he shuffles over to the tub and begins running you a bath.
The sound of the water echoes through the room and you sigh as strong arms begin to undress you. It's gentle, tender. You feel loved. He slips off your shoes first. Gentle fingers make their way to your socks, prying at the hems before pulling them down shyly. He removes your skirt, then your jacket, and finally your shirt. Your left in your underwear, but the room is warm and steamy, and the exposure doesn't bother you one bit.
"I hope you know you are the most beautiful thing in my world."
You give him a dopey grin as you hiccup through a few happy tears. You don't even know why you're crying at this point. He removes the last few items of clothing and gently places you into the bathtub.
"How about I give you a few minutes to decompress on your own while I make some cookies and tea, then I'll come give you a massage and wash your hair for you."
You're on the verge of tears again, shaky arms reaching out to hang around his neck and grasp at the back of his hair. You press your forehead to his and whisper.
"I love you so much. I don't know what I did to deserve you."
He chuckles and the soft rumble of his chest gives you butterflies.
"You deserve so much more love than you think you do. You are so kind and strong and beautiful. I don't know what I DID to deserve YOU. Besides, I know you'd do the same for me sweetheart."
#anime x reader#anime fluff#cher.writes#bnha fluff#mha fluff#my hero academia#mha x reader#mha#fluff#genshin#genshin x reader#keigo x reader#hawks x reader#gojo saturo#gojo x reader#shoto todoroki#todoroki x reader#kirishima x reader#bnha eijiro kirishima#hawks fluff#diluc x you#diluc x reader#genshin diluc#kaeya x reader#albedo#genshin fluff#al haitham#al haitam x reader#zhongli#venti
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Period Drabble; LADS
Word count; 1,267
Warnings; mention of periods, slight stereotypes like mood swings and etc, fluff
Notes; So, since mine just started, I thought I'd just do a little drabble. They're not the best to be honest, but I just wanted to post something and it seems cute/fluffy enough! Periods are only vaguely mentioned in Rafayel's, but I think it still works.
One of Zayne's secret times also inspired me, they all have at least one period related secret time– which I find really sweet. Zayne's mentioned the raspberry tea and the massage, which I actually did for a bit today and it 100% helped. At least, for a little bit before I woke up enough to take some tylenol.
Anyway! I hope you enjoy, it's rather short and I didn't proof-read at all, but it'll be fine since it's a just drabble. I have a few more drabble ideas, but this one was more of a random idea so apologizes that it's not formatted well!
Xavier
“Are you alright? Sorry– shouldn't have asked that.” Xavier immediately retracts his question whenever your head whips around to look at him.
You were curled up in a ball, sitting on the floor, and trying to slowly breathe until your pain medication kicks in.
The first few days of your period were always rough. The pain akin to…Well, it was hard to describe. It definitely hurt though, that's for sure.
“I'll be right back.” Xavier pats your head as he steps past you, but you wrap your arms around his leg. “Where are you going?” You couldn't tell that you were being clingy nor did you notice that your mood swings were all over the place. You honestly thought you were acting as normal as ever.
“I'm going to the store, okay?” He chuckles, kneeling down to remove your hands from his leg. He holds both of them in-between his and dips his head down to place a small kiss on your knuckles. “I'll be back in a flash. You'll never even realize I left.”
Disappointment bubbles in your chest and you let out a sigh, but nod your head. “Okay…” you didn't exactly want to be alone, but if Xavier needed to leave for a moment, you didn't want to bother him and make him stay.
And indeed, Xavier was back very soon. In record time.
He re-enters the apartment, seemingly out of breath, but the moment you look at him, he stands up straight. He has a plastic bag in his hands as he walks over to you.
He kneels back down next to you and starts sifting through the bag. “I got some chocolate…I didn't know what kind you liked so I got regular, white, dark, and mint.” As he sets them down on the coffee table, you quickly grab your favourite to open it up.
You start eating as Xavier continues with a chuckle, “I got a heating pad, some chamomile tea, some raspberries…”
“You didn't have to get all of this…” You say, but you can't hide the smile on your lips. While he really didn't need to do all of this, you did appreciate it. A lot.
“Oh, I also looked up some massages that can relieve cramps. I could do those for you later, if you want?”
Rafayel
“Hey– stop throwing brushes at me!” Rafayel huffs with a hand on his hip. “I'm sorry I got some paint on you.”
You pause mid-throw and raise a brow, “I told you I wasn't in the mood to play around.” A thick purple line of dried paint decorates your cheek.
“And I just apologized for that!” Rafayel throws his hands up in the air before he walks over to grab a washcloth. He wets it and heads back over to you. “Truce?”
“I–” you sigh before shaking your head. “Fine. I guess I'm sorry too.”
The purple-haired man chuckles as he tilts your chin up with a finger. “Look, if I knew you were on your period, I wouldn't have done that. Seriously, do I look like I want to die today?” He gently wipes your cheek with the wet cloth.
“I'll help you clean up your brushes.” You reluctantly say, a little embarrassed at your overreaction, but you did tell him you didn't want to play around today.
“I have a better idea.” Rafayel tosses the washcloth onto the table once he's done and picks up a lone paint brush from the floor. “Here. Paint on me.”
“Huh?”
“You can paint on me to your heart's content and until you feel better.” He curls your fingers around the brush and then gives you a small smile. “After that, we can make something to eat. I picked up a few boxes of cake mix, so we can bake one together.”
Sylus
“Sylus–”
“It's fine, sweetie. I just threw the bedsheets in the wash, along with your clothes.” The taller man says as he walks back into the room.
You sat, curled up against the headboard of the naked bed, with your head buried into your knees.
“I don't see why you're embarrassed over it. A period is a normal thing.” Sylus shrugs as he sits down on the bed, patting the mattress so you'd move to sit next to him. “I sent the twins out to go procure some pads, tampons, and whatever else you might need. It's a shame the N109 Zone doesn't sell any of it…I might have to fix that.” He hums.
You sigh and slowly move to sit next to Sylus, doing your best not to move too much. “It's a normal thing, yes, but it's embarrassing to wake up and have…blood all over the bed.”
“You should be glad it's only your period. I would've thought you were dying otherwise.” The white-haired man laughs before handing you a bottle of pills. “It's the only pain medication we have around here. If you can't take it, I'll have Mephisto go out and get some more.”
“Stop talking about it.” You hide your face in your hands.
“Alright, I'm sorry, kitten. Just take your medicine before the pain kicks in. I'll go make you some tea.” He pats your hand but, as he goes to stand up, you feel your body jerk forward.
“Sylus–” you bite back your anger, momentarily thinking that he was dragging you by the wrist, but when you look down you realize your wrists were connected with that annoying red light. “Seriously?” Why now of all times?
“It seems like you really didn't want me to leave you alone.” Sylus muses with a raised brow before he carefully picks you up. “I'll have to make your tea like this then.”
“Hey–”
“Would you rather I drag you around? I really don't want to piss you off. I think I'd actually fear for my life if I did.”
Zayne
“Don't get up.” You hear Zayne whisper and the bed shifts as the older man moves to get up. “I'll go make you some raspberry tea for your cramps.”
“Zayne…” Your hand pats against the bed, searching for him and you hear him sigh, his hand resting on top of yours.
“I'll be right back, snow angel.”
“Let me help you sit up.” Zayne places the mug of hot tea on the bedside table, his hand moving to rest against your back as he aids you in sitting up. “Is the pain too bad? I'd hate for you to rely on medication, but if it's hurting too much, I can get some for you.”
“It's not…too bad right now.” But your facial expression betrays you as a sharp pain floods through your lower abdomen.
“Here.” Zayne lifts a spoon from the tea, blowing on it to cool it off, and lifts the spoon to your lips. “These raspberries should help with your cramps.”
After you drink some more of the tea, Zayne gets back in bed next to you. His chest against your back and his hands rest slightly under your stomach.
“Sleep for a little while longer…I'll keep massaging here, so you won't be in pain while you sleep.” The black haired man places a soft kiss on your head.
His fingers gently push down on your lower abdomen, moving in a slow, circular motion.
It felt…soothing. It was also surprisingly taking the pain away, but that could also be from the tea.
“Do you have work today?” You tiredly ask, a yawn escaping from your lips and you feel Zayne shake his head.
“I'm taking off. A certain patient requires all of my attention, at least for today."
#lads#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#lads x reader#lads sylus#lads xavier#lads zayne#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace zayne#lads rafayel#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x reader#zayne love and deepspace#zayne x reader#sylus x reader#xavier x reader#lads drabble#lnds x reader#lnds zayne#lnds xavier#lnds#lnds sylus#lnds rafayel#lads fluff
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an angels guide: my perfect winter evening routine ⋆。˚୨୧˚。⋆
hi angels! i cant believe it’s almost christmas… im feeling so angelic and wintery! im very excited and i thought a good post would be a winter evening routine (especially as a few of you so kindly asked me for one)! my goals with my winter evening routine are primarily to be productive but also to get cozy and properly rest and recover for the next day. remember this is an ideal evening routine and not something ill achieve every evening! enjoy angels.
arrive home by 4:30 - 5:00.
spend a maximum of half an hour changing, putting clothes in the laundry, unpacking bag and getting books and supplies ready for work later. prep anything needed for cooking later.
make a cup of tea, warm matcha or hot chocolate. have a snack if needed!
refill bottle of water.
settle down and start work, focusing on most urgent work and doing what i can to make future tasks easier.
check what i need school wise for next day, pack bag and organise notes and resources needed. if possible read up on material for upcoming lesson to begin getting a grasp on the knowledge needed.
when finished with work do an evening workout for 30 minutes to an hour (on days when i have not worked out in the morning).
start cooking dinner and eat.
tidy up kitchen and prepare anything needed for lunches/breakfast the next day.
make a green tea to aid digestion!
prepare for a shower or bath.
dry brush prior to washing.
when in water exfoliate if shaving, i use either a dove sugar scrub, a lush one or a body shop one (normally in sweet, fruity or sugary scents).
regardless of whether i have exfoliated or not i then use a plain, unscented bar of soap to cleanse my body. i use a wash cloth to really cleanse my body and ensure all soap traces are removed.
if its a shaving day i massage shaving gel on the places im shaving, applying a light layer of baby oil to soften the skin and hair in particularly sensitive areas.
use a scented body wash and wash and clean everywhere thoroughly.
towel dry gently and apply a plain body lotion (the thicker the better during winter). when it has sunk in apply a body oil and scented lotion other the top.
put on my fave cozy pjs.
watch something or give myself some relaxing downtime. my favourites at the moment are anything christmassy (i love festive episodes from my fave shows and christmas films!), gilmore girls and some really interesting documentaries.
fill up bottle with water.
use mouthwash, clean teeth and floss.
pm skincare.
nightly yoga stretch.
get into bed and do a few minutes of journaling (or longer sometimes inspiration strikes late!).
read in bed until i am ready to rest, then go to sleep.
thank you for reading angels! i tried to include timings where possible but my schedule can vary massively - this is an example of a day where i had no activities etc. this isnt what every evening looks like for me, i try to find what works for me and be adjustable with a few daily non negotiables. happy christmas countdown to all who celebrate! feel free to tell me your evening routines or give me and others any tips - i love hearing from all of you angels.
love, m.
#girlblogging#girlhood#becoming that girl#just girly things#it girl#glow up#it girl energy#clean girl#that girl#pink pilates princess#winter aesthetic#winter girl#evening#self care routine#daily routine
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Could you do Orc Tribal Leader X Reader on your wedding night?
A/N: I SWEAR I'm literally just writing the same stuff over again b/c I had a story just like this, but you know what I never get tired of it because its like a top fantasy bro. Hope this one was better than that version at least
Content warnings: Forced Marriage, kidnapping, attempted escapes, nonconsensual touching, infantilization of reader
Synopsis: Your village, destroyed and burned. Your life picks up somewhere you would never have imagined. Maybe, death is a better option than being an orc’s spouse.
Word Count: Approx. 2600
The autumn solstice was a bountiful, beholden time of year. From the greeneries of cabbage and the fowls hatched in summer now fully grown, there was much to be harvested and ripened for the taking. Your town was boisterous, full of life with a variety of competitors and businesses attempting to lurch at any tourist’s or local’s wallet to get them to buy countless crops, meat, and woven goods.
Your tiny tea shop, suffering from last July’s drought, was finally starting to perk up with re-growth. Black tea, jasmine, bergamot, even hybrid blends like crushed raspberry and chamomile-- you could assemble enough to raise prices, label the small reaping as an imported foreign good luck charm that when drunken, blessed women with marriage prospects and men with wealth.
That was, before however, you became bound and gagged to a chair, pleasantries being exchanged around you in a language harsh in your ears. The fires... You remember them well, the putrid stench of charred meat from the butcher next door, his body even more ablaze. Your jade boxes of fine silk bags meant for holding gifts of tea, becoming laden with ash and dust. Every scrap of money you saved up under the floorboards disappearing into floating particles and melted coins.
“Brutes,” Your uncle called them, “deranged beasts with only two things in mind: bloodlust and greed.”
Orcs were not well-received in a conservative, fearful town of humans. Even the elves, seen as symbols of beauty in mortal standards, were causes of paranoia and irritation whenever they made their rounds nearby.
It was no wonder that the lines of tusked, olive-fleshed creatures in animal skin were spotted, the guards of your small city went on a rampage. Bows and arrows were no match for iron bones and teeth of steel.
You, were no match for anything wider than a tree trunk. So when fire caught to your village, your home now rampaged for its finest ‘offerings’ to the orcs, you were left to be eaten by the licking flames. And yet, was it a blessing or a curse that one of the warriors decided to haul you on his back, doting on how “nicely you’ll do” as a wedding gift. You didn’t realize that the gift was to be part of the ceremony yourself.
With smoke in your lungs and your eyes blurred by dirt and ash, you watched the ceiling cave in on your tiny tea-filled shack, bright orange and red dancing from behind the window panes as you drifted away.
Daraktan is spoken all around you, harshly and with flicking tongues. You can hear snippets of English, wondering what’s going on behind the black veil covering your head. You don’t dare remove it, recalling what the orc woman, supposedly your now husband’s ‘mother’ telling you in your native tongue.
“Touch this, and you will surely die. My alfhild will remove it, when it is time.”
And so, you wait. Digging your fingernails into your palms, crying quietly in heavy furs and leather, the occasional hand coming to pull your shaky one to their mouths, kissing the tip of your index finger.
“Aka’magosh..” They mumble to you, seemingly more at the body to your right.
The calloused hand of someone much larger than you, whom you have assumed is your husband from his constant appearance nearby, occasionally comes to grace your back, to rest a hand on the top of your head, to smoothen your veil or the soft fur shawl on your legs.
His hearty laugh hurts your ears, the jingles of the metal jewelry he adorns constantly making noise as he shifts.
“Please..” You whisper, praying, to whoever may be listening. Why you? Why, out of all the fair, eligible humans of your town, were you picked out from the rubble to be “saved”? To be married to a faceless orcish man, who would surely break you in half before morning?
The bitter cold of coming winter brushes against your legs. You can feel that you’re not inside wooden walls, and yet unnatural lighting seems to shine through your veil at times.
“Omulork, I think I will take my… wedding gift, to be with in solitude.”
Loud, deep laughs fill the room, the guttural voices of female orcs being swallowed up by uncountable numbers of warriors surrounding you. Your body shivered as a gust of wind blew in, the autumn breeze barely being kept at bay from where you sat.
“Enjoy the festivities, shedzvagas!”
His unique husk leaves everyone in the room to cheer in their orcish language, tough and painful pats coming to your back, the festive shakes to your shoulder nearly making you topple.
That same heated, abrasive hand comes to grab your roped wrists, lurching you firmly, yet gently from your place on the ground. Panic started to fill your stomach as it rose to your chest, the warm aura of an orc next to you radiating to heat you from the chilly weather outside.
Now. It was now or never. You didn’t want to think anymore what he would do to you when you were alone, when you had no one to cry to for help.
Your feet moved before the thought finished crossing your mind. Your hands shook as you stumbled in a sprint forward. You passed thick bodies as you ran blindly, making it a mere five steps before a pair of meaty hands grabbed you by the hips.
“A feisty one, Gar’mak!” The sounds of the orc woman who forced you into your wedding attire spoke up, a drunken laugh leaving her plump lips. “Alfhild, better not leave it out of your sight.”
You hated how clear the English they used was to your ears, how human they all sounded, how when they spoke in your native tongue-- it was meant for your ears. She wanted you to know, to let the fear soak into your chattering teeth.
The orc keeping you captive merely laughed, tossing your weightless body to his shoulder just like he had done when pulling you from the cobble of what was left of your tea shop.
You screamed, biting down on what you could reach from under your veil. But the salty, thick flesh from beneath you was aloof, offering no reaction as a double pat was brought to your buttocks.
“Now now, Djenifor, don’t fuss.” Gar’mak mused, each step he took forward making your body thump against his. He held a tight grip on you, not caring for the scratches you layered his back with. “I won’t try to hurt you… I will keep you safe, try my best to keep your fragile body in one piece.”
The coldening night air was a drastic change to the room of heavy body heat and weighty movement where the wedding ritual and festivities were held. Now, it was quiet. You could hear the loud chattering begin to drift, songs and chants rising again as they once had when you were unceremoniously married to your new ‘husband.’
Gar’mak patted your butt again, moving down to rub at the back of your thigh with a gentle, firm rhythm. He seemed to hum to himself, satisfied with the nights events. Scored himself a spouse and the treasured belongings of a human town.
He must be pretty proud of himself, you seethed.
The tears were beginning to sting the corners of your eyes, frantically scratching at the orcs back when you felt the warmth of an enclosed area meet your skin.
“No, no--” You began to kick, trying to shove off the arm holding you steady on the orcs’ shoulder.
“Settle down now--” Gar’mak ordered softly, putting you down on the fuzzy ground. You managed to hit his face, the hard scrape of tusks scratching your hand as a firm nose nearly cracked your knuckles.
The orc went silent. Quiet in rage, he rips your veil away with a grip hard enough to tear hair out if he so desired.
Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the dimly lit tent, lanterns glowing at the corners as the mass of a creature leers over you. You forgot just how… big, orcs were. From afar they looked small, bigger than a human, but no threat due to distance. But now… he was above you, twice your height, twice your size, twice if not thrice everything. His palm the size of your skull, his eyes gleaming and looking over your body, weak with exhaustion and fright.
Small, intentional scars were placed under his auburn eyes, some kind of tribe symbol you were sure. Thick eyebrows furrowed at the way tears decorated your cheeks, the exhales from his flat nose blowing hot breath on your chest.
“Please, I, I can’t, I don’t belong--” You fumble over yourself, trying to slide back on the floor of soft wolf and caribou furs.
“Shh, shh now,” The orc puts a hand to your ankle, an action that jerks you to a stop. “I won’t hurt you, lebam…”
You sincerely doubt that, but the sentiment sounds genuine from his broken, baritone voice.
“What’s your name?” He asks, pulling slowly with immeasurable strength at your leg. You slide towards him with little strain, even with your muscles going rigid for you to stand your place, your fingernails digging into the ground beneath you.
You shake out your name, reluctant to give it.
“Ah. What a human name; a scared wee human, aren’t you?”
You don’t dare to respond, waiting for the sound of your snapping ankle.
“They call me Gar’mak, though that may be too difficult for simple human brains. Mak is fine, little Djenifor…”
You don’t want to call him anything, to refer to him at all-- yet, he looks keen to hear you say it. There’s an expectation in his eyes, a flick of his giant tongue against his lips.
“Mak..” You mumble, trying not to gag.
“Yes…” The orc’s hand frees your leg, caressing up to your cheek as he wipes away a forgotten wet stream of tears.
“Please, just let me go--” You beg under your breath, scared of the way he seems to be eyeing your knees, your frail neck, your round ears.
“You know that’s not going to happen,” He doesn’t seem angry at you for asking, just… Sorry. “We are bound forever now; even the gods couldn’t tear us apart. Wherever you go, I will find you. Whenever I leave, you will feel me gone. By sunrise tomorrow your scars will be given, and you will become one of us.”
The panic begins to settle once again in your stomach. Maybe, tonight, yes-- tonight, if you could escape. You could-- just maybe you could find a way, past their all-seeing eyes, their all-hearing ears, escape to the mountains they took to get you here.
“But can’t you change it back?” Your voice cracks, expression twisting into an ugly cry as you feel thick fingers dig into your hair. “Just, we can go back-- just let me be…”
You sob for what feels like too long, hours maybe, Gar’mak’s eyes never leaving you as he pulls you to his thigh. He brings a cotton blanket to your legs as he shushes you, the tenderness of his eyes a foreign sight compared to the façade he forced you to endure during the night's festivities.
When your cries had turned to miserable, quiet sniffles, a muscled knuckle finds its way under your chin. He turns your head to look at him, eyes red and droopy as you try to think of any method of escape.
“You’ll learn to like it here, human.” Gar’mak thinks for a moment, caressing your leg with a single finger.
“We are far more civilized than your kind-- far more… Fair. You’ll be treated well. The spouses of warriors do not go unfed, unbathed. Unloved, most of all. You will be cherished; I will cherish you, as long as you let me.”
The orc grips your jaw in his hand, firm enough to where his fingers made dimples in your cheeks, but softly to where you felt like a mouse in someone’s closing palm. A kiss was planted to your temple, your body pushed deep against your husband’s as he holds you close enough to suffocate. You wait for him to choke life from you, and yet it never comes. He is harsh with his touches, but not harsh enough to hurt.
“Please, let's finish tonight how it was meant to go, hm? Let me hold you…” He murmurs, all soft and lamblike into your ear. It sends shivers down to your soles, hot breath layering your neck as he looks at your lips with such intensity.
You fear saying no, but the word rises up to your throat.
It doesn’t make it out in time. Lips engulf yours, the stiff coldness of bone-colored tusks brushing against your face as Gar’mak holds you tight. Just one kiss is enough to make his demeanor act up.
Your unassuming, comfort-driven spot on his lap is altered swiftly. You find yourself straddling the orcs’ waist, a hand pressed against the back of your head as your tied hands remain useless against his chest.
You don’t know whether to speak, to scream, to bite at his lips-- but you remain flexile, afraid of the rough hand holding your skull so tenderly, the other gripping your thigh to wrap around his flank. You’re like a resistant doll, licked lips becoming tender as the orc pushes against you with such tenacity.
You see his eyes open, staring into your wide, unblinking ones. They seem to communicate more than just lust-- its desire, desire for your reciprocation.
Gar’mak waits… he kisses you, eyes narrowed on standby for your submission. They’re hazy and make you wonder if this is enough to make him release his brutish side, the part that showed no mercy for your neighbors or your home. What would happen, if you broke away or dared to claw at him?
That thought doesn’t stay for long, not when the tough hand on the back of your head moves to your neck, squeezing just enough to bruise.
You wince, lips pursing in reaction just in time for his next tongued assault.
That slight opening of your mouth, the press of your lips against his, is all he needed. You find yourself twisted beneath his body as you’re brought to lay on the furry floor, the orc lying above you.
“That’s right, I’ll be soft Djenifor… just do as I command, keep smelling so sweetly for me.”
Scars litter his shoulders and collarbone, metal necklaces and piercings dangling on his olive-green, lightly haired chest as you fear how much it would take for him to crush you.
He’s so quiet, letting go of your mouth as the orc’s curled tongue licks a slow, wet stripe down your jaw. His hands grab your thighs to wrap your legs around him, intent on keeping you steady and so close you practically breathe the same air.
Before he leans to kiss you feverishly again, the orc brushes your cheek with his knuckles, petting down the amalgamated fabrics you wear to commemorate your wedding.
“You’re so lucky I found you first, that I had saved you from that rubble without layering an extra scratch; my brethren would not be so kind.”
He kisses your cheek, a soft, hungry grin playing on his plumped and tusked lips. “So stay pliant like this for me, wee human, and you won’t feel any pain.”
You lay rigidly, squeezing your eyes shut as a tender, all-consuming kiss eats you up, preparing you for the night’s affairs.
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