#so it might not work for everybody's settings

[nanaooyoo]

nct jisung oneshot

request for anon: you have a kid without your highschool boyfriend ever finding out. sorry this request took a long while my life has been so insane lately that I haven’t had time to do much of anything besides work. Anyways enjoy ✨

warnings/headsup: light swearing • teen pregnancy • tiny bit of angst • major fluff fest • 7.8k words • female reader • light proofread • jisung x reader kiss • melodrama • crisp autumn vibes • dad!jisung • D/N = daughters name • miscommunication • so much cheesiness

Moving On: Jisung x Reader pt. I/I

High school was a complicated time for Jisung. He was managing school, keeping up with friends, dealing with his overbearing family, and a slew of extracurriculars, all while making sure to pay attention to you; his girlfriend. Sometimes it all felt like too much, sometimes he felt like he should just quit. Nevertheless, you were always there to support him. You were constantly by his side and that’s what really mattered. Whether it was bringing him snacks in between classes, helping him study during free periods, waiting for him at the dance studio while he practiced, or just being a shoulder to lean on and a safe space to vent whenever he may have needed it you were there... Jisung couldn’t even express how grateful he was for having you around! Even with all his appreciation and love for you however, he still wasn’t aware of just how far you were expending yourself to keep him happy and healthy.

People often joked about just how close you two were, how you were like second mother to Jisung and his entire friend group, the way you were always ready and able to give them rides and take care of Jisung and all the people important to him. Jisung’s mother would have probably said the opposite. Though she was never overt about it you know she didn’t like you. She would scowl whenever Jisung left you two alone together and the smile she forced on her face whenever he brought you home was just about the fakest thing you’d ever seen. Jisung always tried his best to talk you up to his parents, but where his mother was stubborn and resentful, his father was uninterested and indifferent. He didn’t want to believe that the people that had raised him couldn’t see in you what he saw, it pained him to think about so he just didn’t. He was in complete denial most times about the relationship between your two families and the fact that you came from much lower economic means didn’t help your case. When he first pitched the idea of you being his girlfriend to his mom and dad that was the very first thing they pointed out in fact! That didn’t stop him however. He would just tell himself that they were overly protective and that you and his mom were actually quite similar. You two would have to get along at some point… at least he hoped you would…

Jisung almost never failed to point out your motherly instincts: to protect him from bad news, to make sure he excelled in everything he did, to simply keep his head afloat. Unfortunately, no one knew just how that instinct would eventually have to develop. For better or for worse that instinct might have just been the end of the life you were once so used to.

It was late spring when you started noticing a bizarre sense of dread in the air as the reality started to set in for everybody that lives were starting to shift and change, and relationships were experiencing a much different sort of ebb and flow. No wonder you felt a little sick, it was the dread in the air! Right?

Sometimes your period was late… but it was never this late... You had no idea what you were supposed to do in a moment like this! A wave of anxiety washed over you and your body as you began to feel queasy. You felt nauseous, and even a fair amount afraid. This might have been the absolute worst time in your life for something like this to happen! You were so close to wrapping up high school. Senior year was supposed to be the last year of you and your peers lives before becoming "real" adults. You were deciding which university to go to and what subjects to major in. You were getting ready to say goodbye to friends and unfortunately hadn’t yet had the sit down talk with your boyfriend about if he was comfortable going long distance or even staying together at all…

You loved Jisung, you really did, but you also loved the idea of a bit of freedom. You would never explicitly say that to him for fear of hurting him or just sounding like you wanted to complain, but you were tired. Tired of being so busy, tired of so many people depending on you, tired of always being referred to as Park Jisung’s girlfriend, tired of his family looking down on you and yours. You honestly thought that most people had forgotten your name at this point. You wanted something of your own, something to explore outside of and away from Jisung, however sweet he was. You thought that college might be time for a change! A chance to reinvent yourself apart from your high school boyfriend and the hovering hand of his mother. No matter how lovely and accomplished he was, you two couldn’t be together forever right? At least that’s what you told yourself. You thought of your parents, you thought of Jisung’s parents. You were sure that if the Park family didn’t already detest you they surely would now. You dreaded what two little lines on a flimsy piece of plastic might mean for all of that. His parents already thought of you as unsophisticated, a burden to Jisung’s future and this would not help your case. You knew you had to tell Jisung while he was still around but you just didn’t know how… but first you had to be sure what you were planning on telling him.

You sat on the cold porcelain of the toilet seat all alone but face still flushed with warmth from embarrassment. You got up and washed your hands and gave yourself a once over in the mirror. You barely recognized your own visage. The bags under your eyes had bags, and the dark circles looked more like new permanent attachments than temporary indications of sleepiness. You subconsciously prayed to whatever god was out there that your period was just late again this time. “It’s just two or three weeks” you told yourself looking back to your reflection in your bathroom mirror and plastering on your best cheery smile. It only lasted a moment but for a fragment of a fragment of a second you were almost smiling genuinely no matter the result.

You went and did a quick lap around your house to release as much pent up stressful energy as possible but also to make sure your parents really were out of the house. You peeked out through the living room curtains one last time just making sure that there were no cars other than your own parked in the driveway. You ran back up the stairs as soon as you heard the faint ringing of the alarm you had set on your phone. You couldn’t stop the trembling of your hands as you picked up the little pink and white pregnancy test you had set on the edge of the counter. You sucked in a deep breath, inhaling sharply through your nose as the sheer terror and excitement of what you were looking at created a blockade in your throat. You felt a tingling sensation all over, unable to properly breathe, only sucking in air for another few seconds before finally letting out your first breath in what felt like several minutes.

Although, it wasn’t just any regular breath, it was a laugh. Well less of a laugh and more or a low groan that slowly turned into a chortle. You practically keeled over as you fell to the ground on your hands and knees, stomach and back heaving as sloppy tears fell down on the sides of your face and almost splashed back into your eyes with the velocity at which they hit the tiled floor. You didn’t know what your reaction would be once you looked at the test but you definitely did not expect this! You were so afraid before, so worried, so adamant that you wanted, needed it to be negative! Now here you were staring at the two thin lines on the near microscopic test screen indicating a positive result and all you could think of was how you hope’d it’d be a girl.

𖦹

“So I have good news and I have bad news” you whispered to Jisung as you two sat in the back of the school library “do you want to hear the good news or the bad news first”?

“Uhm I don’t know… I guess the bad news” he said.

You screamed internally, wondering why he just had to choose the bad option first. Jisung rifled through several books struggling to pick one for a final paper, paying you little mind as he laced his fingers through yours absentmindedly and dragged you down each aisle of bookshelves behind him.

It had been about a day or two since you had taken the test and you had even talked it over with your parents. They were understandably uneasy at first when you said you planned on keeping the child but you assured them that you would absolutely keep working on your studies. You told them you would talk to Jisung yourself and figure out the rest from there, and all your parents could do was support you and whatever decisions you made, the best they possibly could. They could see the stress in your eyes as you mentioned next steps. Though your parents supported your relationship they weren’t too fond of Jisung’s family either. The pretentious nature and lack of grace when talking about their son’s girlfriend, your parent’s daughter, it made them upset to say the least. The thought of having to join your two families was the last thing they wanted to think about right now. You explained to them in detail exactly how you wanted to move forward with your life and what you planned on telling your boyfriend in the process. “Just let him down easy” your mother said, knowing how difficult of a conversation this would be, especially to have so young “don’t tell his mom… tell him.” Your mother’s voice was emotional and awkward and your dad gave you a half hearted smile and stiff hug. Their words rang in your head as you looked up at Jisung.

“Are you sure you want to hear the bad news first?” You asked, hoping that if you told him the good news was that you were pregnant, he would already be on board to end the relationship and you wouldn’t have to say what you had to say next and his mom would never have to be proven right about how messy she thought you were.

“No I want to hear the bad stuff first and just get it over with” he said reaching over you with ease to grab a book off the highest shelf. “Hey do you think this would work?” He clicked his tongue paging through whatever novel he had picked up this time.

You sighed… “okay but it’s really important so I need you to really listen!”

Jisung continued checking out books and only really half listening to you. “Of course” he said as he carried on skimming all the literature around him.

“Jisung I’m serious! I didn’t want to do this here but this is the first time we’ve been alone together all week!”

“Totally…” he responded

“Jisung look at me!”

“I am looking at you…” (he wasn’t). He kissed your hand tenderly, muttering the words on the page he was looking at to himself.

“Jisung!”

“What babe?”

His nonchalance angered you. Couldn’t he tell how upsetting this was for you? “Jisung I want to break up!” You swore you could hear a pin drop on the complete opposite side of the library. You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest in the time it took for Jisung to fully absorb what you had said. Those few seconds felt like an eternity, but once they were over you already wanted to go back to before you had said anything.

“You’re joking…” he said, actively scoffing in your face.

What ensued was potentially the first and only ever argument between you and your then, now ex boyfriend. All you really remembered was how he kept asking "why". You told him all the little reasons, how you wanted space, how you couldn’t do long distance, how your families would never get along, but you omitted the most important reason... Sure those other things were true but you also just couldn’t see yourself raising a child with the first guy you had ever slept with, and Jisung had so much going for him, you knew there was no way a dance career could have him stationed in one place long enough to focus on a new family. His mother would never let him have a kid with you, you just knew it! She would think you were trapping him, his father would question you incessantly, and Jisung would eventually have to choose between his prospective future or yours. So you decided to choose for him.

“So we’re just over then” his voice was hoarse and defeated “you don’t want to see me again”…

All you could do was nod “this one should work well, it fits all the criteria for the paper”. You said, handing Jisung a hefty book of the shelf, helping him for seemingly the last time…

You couldn’t completely avoid Jisung the last few weeks of school. You both had sort of silently agreed to keep as much distance as possible, only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary. When people asked why you two had broken up you both had slightly different answers but they both went along the lines of “growing apart.” It really hurt to think about, especially all that was left unsaid but you simply had to trudge forward. The last time you saw Jisung was at graduation where you each exchanged a friendly yet faintly sour handshake and wished each other good luck. You watched the smug smile on his mother’s face as you two parted ways and the way she turned up her nose when your dad foolishly went in for a cordial handshake.

You sort of regretted not telling him about your ‘situation’ but you also felt like it was for the best! You thought you might never see him again and once your daughter D/N was born nothing else mattered. You put off school for a bit, moved to a new town and got very used to living alone with just you and your little girl. You put all your best skills to use once you had entered university. All your experience planning, keeping others organized, staying on task, and being a mother really lended itself to your field and your incredible business acumen was undeniable. You worked hard to make sure that you and your daughter could live in the best house, afford the nicest dinners, get the very best babysitters, and whatever else would make the little one’s life easier.

Obviously you still thought about him. Every time you looked at your child’s face you saw him. Every laugh, every cough and sneeze, every silly statement, every whine just reminded you of him. She never asked about her father but you wondered if she would eventually start. You sort of did want her to meet Jisung but your life had changed so much since, you wondered if after all these years if he would even care. You weren’t immune to looking him up every now and then or asking your parents if they had heard any news about him or his family. You suspected he would be angry or hurt if he found out, and he had every right to be. Despite that though, you still just wanted to see him again, even if it was just to yell at you for lying or cuss you out, even for just a brief moment you wanted to see him…

𖦹

“There’s no way… there’s no way…” Jisung muttered to himself slowly bringing his shopping cart to a halt and planting his feet firmly in the middle of the aisle. People gave him dirty looks and confused stares. He stood there, oblivious, only focused on a woman about his age, a woman he’d recognize anywhere even from a hundred feet away, a woman who nearly shattered his heart into a million pieces and broke up with him before moving across the country and becoming the most successful person from their high school by a mile. It couldn’t be, or rather it shouldn’t be!

What were you doing back in your home town? He wondered. The last he had heard you graduated college with about a million academic achievements under your belt, and were making more money than he could ever dream of at some big conglomerate. Though there you were, same put together appearance, same pretty face, same sweet voice, bending over to talk to a little girl who looked just like you. He did a double take, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses just to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing. He squinted and blinked and did just about everything he could to clear his vision but nothing changed. All he saw was you.

He felt like he had to say something… if he didn’t he thought he might go insane. What kind of guy would he be to just ignore your presence. Sure you two hadn’t ended things on the best note but that was years ago, and you were just kids at the time! Maybe you’d forgiven him at this point. At one point Jisung wasn’t sure if all the resentment he once held for you was gone but seeing you in person just confirmed that it was. There was no reason to be mad anymore. He really missed you. He just wanted to talk to you again…

Was it really you standing there? The child didn’t look that old but was she really yours? Had you moved on so quickly after leaving town, after leaving him? Who were you with now? His head was spinning like a freshly oiled revolving door and full to the brim flooded with questions.

Jisung felt like his stomach did a 360 degree flip as he tepidly approached you. “Y/N” he stated more than asked hoping but already knowing it was you. Though, in case he was wrong he braced himself for a much more awkward encounter.

You almost dropped the can of food you were holding blinking rapidly and registering the person before you. “Jisung?” You said, giving him a once over. He was somehow even taller now with jet black hair and dark thick rimmed glasses slightly covering his tired brown eyes. He was as cute as ever. There he stood looking pretty much the same as he did when you left, but boy was he handsome!

“Jisung what’re you doing here?” You asked out of impulse, already knowing the answer. You acted like you hadn’t heard he was in town from your mother who ran into his folks a couple weeks ago, who proceeded to unabashedly brag about their son to her. Of course you then immediately went and stalked him on social media.

“I- I came back recently for a family reunion…” his face was a bit strained as he said it and then he trailed off, noticing the little girl who shyly held your hand once more. Up close she looked ever more like you, down to the way she looked him up and down and examined him with curious eyes. She stared without a shred of recognition on her face or in her eyes but still refused to break eye contact with the strange adult towering over her. He also couldn’t help but notice the way her cheeks rounded out the same way his did as a child and how her face transitioned into the same confused expression he made, mirroring him perfectly.

“What are you doing here?” He said trying his best to look at you and to not stare back at the little girl clinging to your side examining him like a foreign creature trapped behind bars at the zoo.

“I’m visiting my parents” you said clearing your throat a bit “with my daughter.” You raised her little hand trying to make her wave.

“How old is she?” He asked, mentally doing the math of just how long ago you two broke up.

“She’s five…” you said bashfully. You tried to run every possible scenario in your head about what the best course of action would be in this moment. Was it selfish to just keep the information to yourself, or was it better to just tell him now. Maybe the grocery store wasn’t the best place to let Jisung know that you’ve sort of been hiding a secret daughter from him for the past five years, but also the longer you hid it from him the worse you felt. You had to tell him, it really felt like now or never. You had kept her from him for so long it just felt cruel at this point. Plus, even though your daughter was young the way she eyed Jisung up and down made you feel paranoid enough that she had already figured it out herself. Maybe Jisung already knew too, maybe he wanted nothing to do with you or more importantly with her, but you still had to tell him. The words had to come out of your own mouth whether you wanted to speak them or not! You had to make up for the immature decision you made at that time. It was like you were in that library all over again...

“Hey do you want to meet up- I mean we should probably talk, it’s been a long time”. You fumbled over your words not sure exactly what to say.

Jisung perked up “I’m free tomorrow. If you wanna grab coffee!” He was happy you took the initiative to invite him out because god knows he didn’t have the courage to do it himself.

“That sounds... nice!” you said as the little girl tugged on your arm mumbling something about wanting to watch some tv show at grandma and grandpa’s.

“I assume your number’s still the same.” He said remembering all the times he meant to text you but stopped himself out of fear.

“Yeah it is.” You said. You felt the same giddy feeling you got on the first day of high school when a cute boy in your homeroom asked for your number for “study purposes.” There was that cute boy once again standing in front of you giving you the same smile he gave you when you first met. A smile you hadn’t seen in years, but healed a hurt you didn’t know you had inside instantly.

You had to chew on your cheeks to hide your smile as you drove home. You could see your daughter in the rear view mirror drumming her little fingers on the arm rest of her car seat along to the music on the radio. You would peek at her every once in a while and try to gauge her focus. What was she thinking about? Was she afraid of him? Was she curious about him? Did she even care?

You cleared your throat only half getting her attention as she sang along to the words of whatever song was playing, mostly making up her own lyrics and swaying in her seat. “So what did you think of mommy’s friend?” You asked.

She didn’t respond for a bit or even give you any indication that she heard you. She was silent for a few minutes before speaking. “He’s nice… but… too tall…” she said.

“You might be tall like that one day” you chuckled “would you ever want to meet him again?” You wanted to at least have an idea of what to tell Jisung when you saw him next. In your mind, your daughter’s opinion (though still young and uninformed) mattered the most. If she wanted nothing to do with him at this time it didn’t matter what Jisung’s response was. All that mattered was her and what her needs were.

“Is he good at playing games?” She added out of the blue.

“What?”

“Mommy’s friend... Is he good at playing games?”

“Uhm, I guess so? From what I remember he was always fun. I’m sure he’d be good at playing games.” You smiled at her through the rear view mirror a little “Why D/N? Did you want to play a game with him?”

Your daughter just looked out the window and nodded her head, soon after getting distracted. “When are we getting home? I wanna watch my show.” She huffed and grumbled almost like an adult. Almost like Jisung.

“Soon.” You said.

As you pulled into the driveway and walked into your parent’s house, your daughter was practically vibrating with energy. She practically dove out of the car as you unbuckled her seatbelt, running into the home as your mother opened the door and greeted her with a big hug.

“How was the store?” Your mother asked as she ushered your little one down the hall to go bother your father in the living room.

“It was alright… I ran into Jisung…” you walked over to the kitchen and placed a few shopping bags on the counter.

Your mother looked surprised “both of you?”

You sighed “both of us.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked to grab coffee, he actually seemed happy to see me!”

“Were you happy to see him?” Your mother asked.

“Of course I was! It was awkward but I have to tell him sooner or later. Whether he wants to be in her life or not I have to tell him.”

“-and you think the best way to do that is over coffee?”

“No!” You said. “But I might not have another chance.”

Your mother looked at you with this awkward guilty expression on her face. She started to unpack the groceries biting her lip and looking everywhere but into your eyes.

“What? Do you really think it’s that bad of an idea?”… there was silence as she opened the fridge and began to rearrange some condiments, suspiciously shaking her head as if to neither completely agree or disagree. “You think I should keep it from him? Mom it's been long enough, it would just be wrong to not tell him. D/N wants to meet him! Why are you being so weird about this? Aren’t you the one who told me I should tell him the next time I see him?”

“What if he already knows?” Your mother blurted out.

“So what if he already knows…” you furrowed your eyebrows “wait… what do you mean?”

“Nothing” your mother said.

You knew that was bullshit. “Did you tell him?” You asked in a frustrated tone. “You told him didn’t you—”

Your mother looked at you and then went back to avoiding your fiery gaze. She was never good at keeping secrets but you thought something of this magnitude would be able to stay hidden. She promised to let you tell him on your own terms, so why had she betrayed you?

It took her a while to fess up but eventually she did, sort of… “I didn’t tell him directly, it just sort of slipped out… I— I just had to say something she was so… ugh!” Your mother groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked and took a deep breath. Your mother swallowed harshly and looked down at the floor. “I promise to hear you out, I just want to know what I’m getting into mom.”

“It was around last month… Your dad has been golfing so much lately, so he got us a membership to the country club with the money you gave him for his birthday. I don’t personally use it much but he loves it down there, and I like to use the pool, and the tennis court is nice, and every once in a while I like to just sit in one of the dining rooms with a glass of wine, and…”

You sucked in your cheek as your mom rambled knowing that she couldn’t avoid the point forever. “Yeah exactly.” You said dryly.

Your mother gulped once more “To make a long story just a bit shorter… The Park family also goes there and I ran into Jisung’s mother, and she was just bragging about him nonstop and she hinted that he was better off without you and I just remembered how much you loved that boy! She was talking about some date he went on and how great this girl was. Greater than my daughter? I doubt it! She thought her son could do no wrong! That he was so perfect and you were so not… I just couldn’t help but tell her that whether she liked it or not you two would always be connected! I- I looked at her and I said ‘ya know you may want to let your son know that you already have a granddaughter and she’s not related to that rich heiress you want him with so bad!’ That’s what I said to her for looking down on us all these years… I told her about how my daughter and my daughter’s daughter were just about the most wonderful thing in this world and she had no right to talk about you or even her own son that way.”

“You really said all that stuff?”

“Yes…” Your mother replied hesitantly.

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes and a swell of emotion inside you. You put a hand over your mouth to stop the audible sobbing that threatened to leave your mouth. You could tell just how long your mother had been holding in those words. She was always so non confrontational but the fact that she said all that warmed your heart. You were angry at first but in this moment you realized that it didn’t matter what Mrs. Park or even your ex boyfriend thought of you. You had some choice words for Jisung’s parents as well but you knew it would create more trouble to let them out. All that mattered was that your mother loved you guys enough to be proud of you. You always felt a bit embarrassed when having to explain to others that you weren’t the babysitter you were just a teen mom, but your own mother didn’t even care. She loved you all the same and made sure that no one would let you feel ashamed of yourself. “I should’ve known you couldn’t keep a secret anyways.” You said choking up a bit. You gave your mother the biggest hug you had probably ever given in your entire life, and she hugged you right back!

“You aren’t angry?” She asked.

“Oh I’m furious” you said “but not at you. I have no idea what I did to make that woman hate me so much but I’m glad you stood up to her!”

Your mother sighed. “I know you wanted to do it on your own terms but I feel like she might’ve already told him… I just don’t know for sure.”

“It’s alright.” You said. You and your mother finished unloading the groceries, tearfully laughing at how strange the whole encounter must have been. The thought of your soft-spoken mother raising her voice at a stern and snarky lady filled you with joy. Just imagining the shocked look on Jisung’s mom’s face was enough to keep a slight smile on yours for the rest of the day.

Later that night, after putting D/N to bed, you sat on the couch with your parents commiserating about all the awful experiences you had with the Park family over the years. It had been pent up for so long that all of you took the opportunity to air out even the smallest of grievances.

“I don’t know how such a sweet kid could be related to such obnoxious people” your father said as a small ping emanated from your phone.

You couldn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as you saw the first text from Jisung in half a decade appear before you.

“Wanna grab that coffee around noon tmrw?” It said.

You considered being coy and waiting a few more minutes to reply but your fingers worked faster than your brain. Before you knew it a “sure!” was sent in response.

Then there was one more ping. One more text. It was small. It was innocuous. It could have meant nothing. But to you, it meant everything. It was one small red heart, one little emoticon that hinted to you that he still might feel the same…

𖦹

The next morning was an early one for you. You spent hours perfecting the exact right image that would make you look good enough to go on what was essentially a date, but not so good that Jisung would immediately clock that you two were on a date. Sure meeting up with an old fling to talk about a secret child over coffee wasn’t the most romantic premise, but you couldn’t help but want to put your best foot forward when it came to him. It was almost shameful to admit internally how much you felt for him, but it was the honest truth. You still loved him.

The ding of the coffee shop door seemed to ring out like a chorus of hollow bell chimes in your ears as your head began spinning. Jisung was sitting at table to the far end of the cafe. You could see the rays of somber light peeking in through the window, diffused by the dusty oranges, reds, and browns of the fall leaves. Jisung fidgeted in his chair looking down at the table, and then his watch, then his phone, and back to the table. Two brown paper cups stood tall on the table in front of him, steam rising from them and collecting on the lenses of his glasses. He cracked his knuckles and gnawed at his fingernails nervously until finally catching a glimpse of you walking towards him. “Y/N” he exclaimed, clumsily getting to his feet and lightly tripping over a leg of his chair.

You tried your best to hold back laughter as he bumbled around, rushing to pull out a chair for you. You smiled and thanked him as you sat down. The rich pungent smell of freshly ground coffee beans and sweet steamed milk filled your nostrils and Jisung gently pushed one cup over to you.

“I assumed you still drank the same coffee. If that’s okay.” He cleared his throat hesitantly.

You could just about burst into tears at this very moment. After all these years he still remembered your coffee order. He was only missing one thing...

“Wait just a second…” he fumbled through his pockets for a moment and pulled out two small packets of sweetener. “I know you like to stir in your own sugar” he said.

Now it was perfect!

“Did you sleep okay?” He asked.

Jisung’s consideration for others, you in particular was always so evident. It’s like he couldn’t stop himself from making the kind of small talk that involved checking in on people. “I did.” You replied.

The two of you spent some time just sitting and catching up. You talked about school, work, old friends, tv shows, and just about everything you two would have talked about and experienced together had you been in contact for the past five and a half years. You didn’t really realize when, but the both of you had slowly transitioned to taking your coffee shop 'date' outside of the coffee shop and made your way to the park across the street. The air was cool and refreshing and Jisung couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud but the way you were bundled up with your scarf, gloved hands clutching your coffee like it might run away from you if you let it go was adorable. He also took not of how your coats subtly matched. Yours a light brown, and his a deep tan color made you two look complimentary, almost like a couple… almost.

“Did your daughter make it in time to watch her show?” He asked out of the blue.

You chuckled “You remembered that? She did actually. She even talked about you a bit after… before she went to bed she asked if I was meeting up with you soon.”

“No way!” He said and bumped your shoulder lightly with his coffee cup.

“Really I mean it! She’s so interested in what I do. She always asks about my friends.”

“Are we still friends?”

Your eyes went wide, your hands tensed up and a chill ran down your spine. “I mean- We were good friends at one point!” You choked on your words not knowing what to say.

“We were more than just good friends Y/N” he said.

“I know…”

Jisung bit his lip and you both looked at each other sheepishly, you caught his gaze and he caught yours before you both broke out into a fit of laughter. You two as a pair had a way of bringing out a silliness within yourselves that had you cackling like hyenas together but looking like absolute madmen to any onlookers passing by.

Your walk in the park was peaceful and comforting. So comforting in fact that you had almost forgotten why you wanted to meet up with him in the first place.

𖦹

“So what was the good news?” He said, taking a sip of his drink.

“What?”

“The good news! Remember before we broke up you said there was good news and bad news… the bad news was the break up and the good news was…” he giggled awkwardly “well I never got to find out”.

Why now of all times did he have to bring that up? What could you even say? You couldn’t run, you couldn’t hunker down somewhere and hide. You had to talk to him. It was now or never.

“Yeah about that… the good news was mostly good news for me”. You were internally facepalming at your high school self’s method of delivery when it came to something so important. ‘Good news and bad news’, how idiotic could you have been.

“That’s okay, I still want to know-” Jisung gently placed your hand in his, picking it up to wrap your fingers within his warm grasp. He knew it might be wrong but he really didn’t want to ask about your relationship status right now. “I was obsessed with everything you did back then, that part of me still really wants to know… Like would it have changed anything? I know that sounds stupid but it’s true…”

You couldn’t help but melt a little being in his hold once again. It lulled you in a way that made you forget the gravity of what you were about to abruptly spit out. “The good news was D/N”! You felt a lump form in your throat and you were jolted back a bit as Jisung stood there frozen in the midst of the cobblestone path. You immediately went into panic mode. Why wasn’t he saying anything? “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it just felt like the right thing to do at the time and my parents pretty much told me to do whatever I thought was best! I didn’t want to push something so big on you right before graduation” You rambled on and on watching as Jisung seemed to only take in bits and pieces of what you were saying. Still you weren’t sure if he was buying your excuses or if they were going in one ear and out the other. He continued to just stand there stiff as a board tightening his hand around yours as you tried to usher him to a bench to sit down. It took a few minutes, but eventually you two found a quieter more private area of the park to talk it out. Jisung mostly sat and listened to you explain your reasoning for keeping D/N a secret from him for so long but he also acknowledged how this wasn’t information he would have wanted to receive any other way than in person and face to face.

He had always wanted to hear something like this from you but he always imagined it was going to be far in the future after you guys got married. Jisung’s thumb lightly caressed your knuckles and you thought your fingers might go numb from the prolonged hand holding. He looked down at your hand and as quiet as a mouse he laughed.

He laughed… Right there on the bench as the cool breeze swept his hair out of his eyes, he laughed. He slowly met your worried gaze, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes just as they did in yours. “Of course you went on to have the perfect life and be the perfect mother all without me.”

His words caught you off guard “Perfect? I’m like a mess ninety percent of the time, I just keep it together in front of my daughter.” You sniffled a bit “I did- I mean I still do want you to be in her life, it would be good for her…”

“Just for her” he asked playfully, tears still welling in his eyes.

“...and for me…” you looked down at the ground.

“Would your boyfriend be okay with that?”

“Boyfriend?” You felt the embarrassment return to you. “I haven’t dated anyone since you and I-” you could barely finish your sentence before Jisung’s lips were crashing into yours. His hot breath made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. His eyelashes gingerly brushed against your cheeks as he caught his breath. Exhaling through his nose he went back for more. Maybe it was because it had been so long, maybe it was because he was older and more experienced, but Jisung had never kissed you like this before. There was quiet desperation in the way your lips melded together as if he was asking you, begging you to be his again.

“Me neither” he said breathlessly finally letting you come up for air.

“I thought you had a girlfriend?”

“No way, I haven’t gone on a real date since I started college…”

“But your mother said-“

“My mother has been trying to set me up with some girl whose parents own a couple buildings downtown for ages now.” Jisung cupped your cheek affectionately. “She seems nice and all but it’s hard to go out with anyone else when all I do is think about you!”

“I think about you too.” You treasured the way such simple touches and matter of fact words could flip your worlds upside down. “I wish I had told you sooner… I really wish I told you so much earlier…” You really couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now. You imagined just how crazy you looked crying on a public bench. “One second” you said reaching into your purse and pulling out a few tissues and some baby wipes. You lightly dabbed at the corners of Jisung’s eyes.

He reached over to you and used his thumbs to wipes your face simultaneously. “You’re such a mom.” He joked.

“I don’t understand how you aren’t mad at me right now?” you said.

Maybe he should have been, you wouldn’t have held it against him if he was. “Being with you is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. If that makes me crazy then so what. I’m crazy about you.”

It was hard to hide the shock on your face, you couldn’t believe he had just outright confessed his feelings to you before you even had time to process that wonderfully unexpected kiss.

“Anyways, it’s a relief that D/N is mine. If you had a kid with some other guy I don’t know what I’d do…” he planted another small kiss on your forehead.

“I think your parents would have been elated…” you trailed off.

“Who cares what my parents think! We’re not in highschool anymore!”

You couldn’t help but smile.

“I always knew we were meant to be family, it doesn’t matter how long it took. Just never keep a secret like that from me again” he laughed.

“I promise it’s all honesty from now on” you replied as Jisung pulled you into a warm embrace. He brought your body closer to his, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you two took in the autumn scenery.

𖦹

It took a few weeks of coordinating but Jisung had finally come up to visit you in your home in the city. D/N was probably more excited than you. Your last couple days back at your parent's were spent watching Jisung play with your (now his) daughter in your parents living room. He seemed to have lived up to all her expectations and she had gotten over her qualms with his height one she realized how high up she could sit when on his shoulders.

You still hadn’t told her he was her father. You and Jisung agreed to wait to tell her until you two were more established. Sure you had dated before but this was now a whole new relationship. Your daughter practically leaped from her spot on the couch once she heard the doorbell ring and her dad’s signature tepid knock on the door.

You opened the door to see your boyfriend’s smiling face as he reached down to pick up D/N as she peppered him with questions. “Hey you!” He said nuzzling her nose and leaning over to give you a kiss as your daughter winced in disgust. He lugged in a large rolling suitcase with his one free hand as you ushered him through the front entrance.

“That’s all you brought?” You asked.

Jisung nodded “yeah for now… I was so eager to get over here that I only packed the essentials, I didn’t want to overwhelm you with all my stuff at once.”

“Please Jisung you’re getting ready to move in. You’re going to overwhelm me anyways” you teased.

“I’ll get the rest later! Right now I just want to hang out with you guys!” He put your daughter down and ruffled her hair. “So are you going to give me a tour?” He said leaning down to talk to her at eye level.

She just wordlessly dragged his wrist along to show him all her favorite spots in the house as you trailed along.

Much to the behest of his mother Jisung planned on having many more days like this and little did you know that the ring burning a hole in his coat pocket back in your hometown was the thing he was most excited to bring back in the next suitcase...

[tumblweeds-omegaverse]

there's gotta be some irony in being a person who dislikes bioessentialist tropes in worldbuilding, and also being a person who can enjoy omegaverse. if only because it immediately makes the omegaverse stuff I create more complex than it could otherwise be.

could I make it so my hyena inspired species has a dynamic that basically means dominant females, and then go from there? sure.

is that what I did? no. no it is not. has every attempt to change it turned into something that is harder to explain but feels more fun to write? yes. is this odd for me? nope!

(extended ramble continues)

me, a person who tends to have casual projects spiral out into massive things: how did this happen?

worldbuilding file: has morphed from "haha funny crossover silly time" to "...currency should probably used for trade, but maybe that’s a way to fill the gap of 'I dont know you personally yet'? or to ensure that merchants can swap for items made far away? with locals, a gift economy is probably even stronger than trade... thinking that instead of stamping coins, it’s common to trade useful materials in a transportable form? mana stones as currency just as much as metals? high-quality wood? ores in bar form, like small palmable sticks one can carry in a pouch?"

me: ...fine, I'll make another project for casual stuff while I keep researching climates and animal behavior and pre-industrial weaponry!

the project idea: lol what if I cross 2 other things I like with omegaverse? the fact that the other project also uses omegaverse tropes certainly won't get confusing ever! and it definitely won't get complicated, since this one actually takes place on this planet!

one month later: ...so, if a person transforms into their alternate form in order to access abilities, does that mean that their scent also changes during that time? I mean, if their appearance, clothes and items, and even physical durability can be enhanced, there's no reason why they couldn't also smell differently.

ooh, if they have some control over how they look, does that mean that they could choose their scent for the alternate form? hmm, people would probably lean into stereotypes around scent that are based on dynamic. like if light herbal scents are associated with betas, then...

wait. wait, is that a beta thing in this verse? or is that the other one? let's check...

oh hang on, what if people consider being able to do this as some kind of override to your social status? like sure, you might have been born omega, but this ability makes you too different to be seen as "a normal omega" or something.

but how would people know that without some kinda tell? is there some sort of registration...? is it like how animals can tell the difference between themselves and a familiar? would the initial shift into that battle form cause a change that people can pick up on, even after they leave it? some kind of mark that gives it away if people see it?

I definitely don't want to lock the capability to only one dynamic, that comes too close to bioessentialist stuff and stereotypes...

sure, the stereotypes might say it's not normal for betas, but that makes it more interesting when it comes to character interaction, yeah?

...geez this is getting involved again...

[spiritsong]

There's something in this life left to live or, giving these two fools a soft moment because they deserve it. not gonna lie, I got a bit emotional when making this. I wrote something from Astarion's perspective to go along with it:

Once upon a time we pressed against an unyielding tree trunk, just like this. Once upon a time we hid ourselves in the obscuring night. Now, the moonlight paints your smile bright and boundless. We were not unwilling back then, though an ocean laid between us. I pressed my body atop yours and went somewhere else. How could I have known that you would follow me there? You were the one who was supposed to be under my thumb. I was the trickster moved by your silver song. You were the cradle that held me safe when all I wanted was to fall into the abyss. You were the gentle voice that beckoned, Open your eyes. See what could be if you loosened that white-knuckled grip you keep on your fear. Sometimes I find myself slipping into the old movements — a flutter of lashes, a dangerous smile — and then I remember. I remember that you were with me at my darkest and ugliest and most utterly heartbroken, and still you told me, It is an honor to witness you. It is a privilege to be by your side. And I let that ancient rhythm fall away. I was free to walk off that tired path, and now, everything is new. How will life surprise me when I allow myself to participate? I was struck with wonder to know that there are people in this world like you. Could you have ever guessed we would end up here, back when we were strangers on the hillside? I didn't have the strength to imagine it. Now, I find myself thinking: Where will we end up tomorrow? What wonders will we behold? There will be such love and such joy, and such hardship to balance it. But for the first time, I feel I am courageous enough to face it, because I am not alone anymore. I will be with you here, beneath this moonlight, beneath this canopy. And afterwards, I hope you will imagine with me all the life we have left to live.

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 6

"Everybody Loves Me" by OneRepublic

[mossterunderthebed]

Y'know what honestly frustrates me about the JJK fandom?

When people make stuff that's like JJK 0 Gojo and Getou talking or whatever, and it's like Getou being totally deadpan about all the horrible things he's doing/going to do/believes in *insert various types of wholesale murder here* and Gojo just laughs along, treating it like it's a joke and Getou's so cute and funny.

Like, no.

Gojo did NOT indulge Getou's philosophy. That was The Whole Point.

What do you think the whole encounter on the street in front of a random KFC was about? That's why there was such a deep divide between them. That's why Gojo was furious and disbelieving. That's why they didn't see or talk to each other for TEN YEARS even thought they were best friends.

Because Getou killed people, chose to kill people, and chose to keep killing people. Because he dehumanized an entire, MASSIVE group of people who were good, bad, kind, cruel, and everything in between, men, women, children, everyone, simply because of something they couldn't help and didn't even know about. Because he took advantage of those that Gojo had decided and felt duty-bound- even though he didn't like it much- to protect.

(And all that came BEFORE Geotu ever stepped into the picture. Yeah, Gojo whines about having to protect the weak and admittedly thinks it's a drag, but he still does it. He was raised with the ideal that he should do it.

That wasn't a Getou thing. Getou believing in that as a teenager did change the way Gojo saw it, but it wasn't New. He already was raised that way, believed that way, and intended to live that way, or why go to Jujutsu High at all? Even if he found it annoying, he was still always going to become a sorcerer, not only because it was kind of his only option- which is it's own kind of horrible- but because he was a sorcerer, down to his bones.

He had that madness in him, and maybe it was nurtured, but that doesn't change the fact that it was there. He wanted to be a sorcerer, loved fighting and killing curses, whether it had anything to do with helping others or not.)

I know it's just fanart and fandom, and look, I myself really like art of Gojo and Getou in their good days. They were kids and they were happy. While I don't ship them, they were best friends, and their own kind of soulmates, I've never not believed that, it's too forking obvious. Gege practically shoves it down our throats and literally designed them to balance each other and be Messed Up Forever when they split. Every official art we see of the two of them practically has them as each other's reflections. I know, okay? I can't not know.

I just get really frustrated when Gojo's disregarded like that. He is his own person with his own beliefs who's made his own choices. They both are. And maybe it's dumb to get up in arms about a story that's not even real, but Gojo's a really imperfect person who struggles and suffers, and at the end of the day? He tries his best.

Even with all the power in the world, he's still only human. He can still only do so much. He's expected to be more than he is a lot of the time, and still he really tries. He wants to make the world better. He wants to make life better for the next generation. He has, in a way, given up on himself, but he's still going, because he knows his place in the world is still one that needs filling.

That's a narrative that means a lot to me. It's disheartening when it's misinterpreted because of the fun, silly, giggly side of his personality, or the reckless, careless, cocky side, both of which are wonderfully, excruciatingly human.

That's all.

[dukeofankh]

If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.

"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.

Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.

Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.

You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."

Problem with that being:

1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.

2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.

3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.

4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.

I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.

[bonetrousledbones]

fuck it since my birthday is in like one day i'm gonna use my birthday wish to tell y'all to look at the shit going on in southern Appalachia right now after Hurricane Helene. look at it and talk about it and spread resources about it like wildfire because nobody else fucking is and it feels like we're on our own out here.

there are people who are stranded in hazardous areas that are still safer than trying to leave by driving on the increasingly hazardous roads. i'm personally going into my third day without electricity at this point, and haven't been able to get any gas for a generator to even keep our fridge working. there are very few places with power or running water, and cell service has just barely been restored in the last hour. ground crews are working hard to repair things, but there are many, many areas that are entirely inaccessible that may not receive these fixes for several more days if not weeks. i'm afraid my own neighborhood might become one of those areas if repairs don't get to us soon, and since we're much more rural i have a difficult time trying to be optimistic about it.

we're very far inland. i guarantee you damn near everybody here was expecting a little more rain and wind like we usually get during hurricane season, if they even heard about the hurricane beforehand in the first place since most people only got about a twelve hour notice before landfall- after several major areas had already been flooded. our terrain protects us from most major weather events- most locals have never encountered a single tornado or legitimate tornado warning in our entire lives. nobody i've talked to or heard from about it seems to have had any idea that it would be this bad. everybody's wishing that they took it more seriously, but we've never, ever had to before. i've seen people comparing it to Hurricane Katrina and honestly i'm not sure if that's all too inaccurate. today while looking for a single working gas station i drove by a military helicopter parked in front of the elementary school i went to when i was little.

please for the love of god, talk about us. talk about the good memories you had here or the beauty of our mountains, and talk about how devastated we are as we watch historic structures, buildings, and entire towns get wiped from the face of the earth like they were never even there. stop dismissing us as uneducated hicks and rednecks and hilllbillies and fucking help us.

r/Asheville resource/updates megathread (Asheville is the largest city in western North Carolina)

How to set up disaster roaming for cell service

WLOS Live updates

Duke Energy power outage map

WNC Landslide Map

Hotels accepting locals

Emergency shelter locations

I live in western North Carolina so all of my own resources are centered around that. If anybody from the other impacted areas has additional sources they'd like to add, please don't hesitate to do so.

[drdemonprince]

any advice for coping with being on the receiving end of a public callout ?

Oh yes:

Do not acknowledge the callout publicly. It will only further its spread, lend it legitimacy, cause you to be interpreted as guilty, and convey to anyone who bears you ill will that you are rattled and feeling socially threatened.

Do not act out of urgency. One of the ways that cancelled people get themselves in far worse trouble is by spiraling due to anxiety and rushing to issue a statement about what has happened, or to attempt to socially manage public impressions about what has happened. Do not do this. Anything that you say will be picked apart and used against you. The situation is truly not as urgent as it might feel. A lot of times, doing nothing and being quiet is the best way to proceed, and the dust will settle better if you do.

Do not issue a public apology. If you truly feel that you have wronged someone, that conflict should be worked out in private with the people you have directly affected. You do not owe the anonymous public audience a damn thing. Do not apologize for something you don't honestly believe that you have done wrong. Take time and really think about what happened, and seek the counsel of people whom you trust in PRIVATE.

Do not attempt to disprove the callout unless you have crystal clear, smoking gun evidence that the person who accused you is actually victimizing you. And even then, probably don't do it. I have only seen a disproof of a callout work ONCE, and that was when Juniper Abernathy revealed the person cancelling her had been abusing her. Even if the facts are on your side, acknowledging the accusations will only make more people aware of them, give your detractors ground to criticize your every word, and will muddy the waters and make people find the situation confusing and troubling rather than clear.

GET THE FUCK OFFLINE. Delete your social media apps for the time being. Turn off notifications. Turn off DMs requests. Change your settings so that you only ever hear from people you already follow (I do this, on the advice of Philosophy Tube). Get away from the computer.

Connect with IRL friends. When you're wrapped up in a cancellation, the negative opinions of a handful of foaming at the mouth freaks loom way larger than they actually are. And social media dramatically skews our sense of social priorities such that the approval rating of complete strangers starts to seem more important than people we actually know, and trust, and who actually know us. Go get a meal with a buddy. Watch a dumb movie. Talk to your grandma about her plans for her garden. Surround yourself with real people you care about and focus on their life and problems, to help put things in perspective.

Find distracting, active, rewarding activities that bring you out of the digital space and into physical reality. Not everyone is talking about you, not everybody hates you, most people have no fucking clue what has been said about you, and most people do not give a fuck about you (that's good). There are so many areas of life that are completely fucking untouched by what a bunch of social media power users have to say online. Go volunteer to clean up a park, run some errands, take an exercise class, foster a dog, regrout your bathroom, knit a hat. Even if the worst case scenario happens and a cancellation sticks, it's really only among a certain very vocal group of miserable fucking people. There is a whole world around you that will not ever care, and you will have a life outside of this.

Good luck!!

[teaboot]

I do not have Boy Knowledge to trade, but can I ask for dinner party hosting tips???

Sure!

I grew up broke but the great-grandparents passed on all their old etiquette, so *fart noise* got a lot of old fashioned shit kickin around, this is what we'd do

PREP:

Clean the house in advance. And not just common areas- the whole place. Minimum the kitchen, living room, bathroom, entrance. Take out all the trash, no dirty dishes, scrub out the toilet. (This is less vital with super casual close friends and family.)

Have snacks ready before arrival. Ask in advance about any allergies and accommodate. Same for actual food.

Aim for business-casual clothing. Jeans are okay if they're well-fitted and clean, with no holes, but nothing acid-wash. Sleeveless shirts should be at least three fingers wide, typically women-only but fuck gender conformity I don't give a shit.

Put coffee or the kettle on a minute or two before you expect people to arrive. Coffee should be fresh and kettle should be boiled around the same time folks arrive.

Have a place for people to put their coats and shoes. An area rug works for shoes, ans if you don't have a coat rack or closet for jackets it's handy to have a bedroom cleaned out and a bed made so people can keep coats, scarves, bags, and purses somewhere.

In some cultures cooking doesn't start until guests arrive. The way I was raised, cooking starts much earlier, and things should be coming out of the oven after they've been there a few minutes and had time to chat.

Set the table before guests arrive: Typical setting when I was younger was matching placemats at every seat, plate next. Fork on the left, knife and then spoon on the right. Wine glass on the right, saucer on the right, cup on saucer for hot drinks. Cloth napkin under the spoon and knife on the right, unless rolled with a napkin ring, in which case it could be set at the top of the plate, on the plate, or on the right hand side. Salt, pepper, and a butter dish is to be set out- one of each for every four to six seats is a decent rule of thumb.

DURING:

Guests are expected to announce themselves by knocking or ringing the bell. When this happens, usually a younger member of the family is sent to answer the door and let them in. Hosts follow shortly after, and hugs and greetings take place. The host offers to take people's coats and bags, or otherwise indicates where they can be placed. Shoes come off and are left at the door.

Tour of the house. This doesn't happen every time, but a quick, "let me show you around" may happen if you expect to be there a full day or longer, or if someone needs to politely stall for time, or if the host is especially happy to have you there or to show you something. This usually skips bedrooms, but a nod will usually be given to indicate adult's rooms, and kid's rooms may be peeked at to show off or do introductions with small children.

Offering seats. Usually starts in the living room, where, "can I get you anything?" Is asked. Options usually include wine, beer, water, some kind of juice, coffee, or tea. Possibly ginger ale or cola, but not usually much in the way of sodas.

At this point, a tray of cookies, biscuits, crackers, or other small snacks might be set our to be shared. Here, it's polite to eat a little and join in on smalltalk.

Dinner. When food is ready to come out of the oven, someone in the host's home will announce that dinner is ready, and guests and hosts will relocate to the dinner table and pick seats. (If there is not enough room at the dinner table for everybody, children's plates will be set at a folding table elsewhere, or in the vacated living room area.)

Some hosts will have guests line up in the kitchen and serve their own food one at a time. The way I was taught, hosts bring food and serving utensils to the table and sit once everything is placed. Dishes are then passed in a circle from person to person as people fill their own plates. It is generally assumed that you will take your portion in such volume that everyone else can receive the same amount as you, or more.

Meal usually includes a meat-based dish, a starch like rice or potato, one to three vegetable dishes, and a bread like a bun or roll that may be buttered.

It is here preferred that you ask for something to be passed rather than reach over food. "Could you pass me the..." or "may I borrow the ..." are good ways to ask.

Elbows stay off the table. You may rest your forearms on the edge if you like, depending on how formal we're talking, but no elbows.

Napkin is spread out flat on your lap to catch anything that may drop or spill. Some people may choose to tuck I into their shirt collar to protect their suit or tie, but I've only really ever seen old folks do that, or people doing it to babies and small children.

It is polite to eat everything on your plate, especially if you served yourself. Once everyone has eaten their plate, seconds may be offered or mentioned. It's considered rude to go in for second servings if others haven't finished their firsts yet. This is a good place for conversation to pick up.

Once everyone is finished eating, a member of the hosts' house (usually a kid, sometimes a volunteer guest assisting) will clear the table, gathering empty plates and such from the guests and taking them to the kitchen to be cleaned. Drinks might be refilled now, and dessert forks or spoons might be brought in.

Dessert usually happens. While the meal itself is traditionally homemade, it is perfectly normal for dessert to be store-bought.

The serving of dessert is much less communal than dinner. The person dishing dessert will normally take a stack of plates and send a runner (again, usually a kid) to take stock of who wants dessert and carry theirs to them.

After dessert, dishes will again be gathered and removed, with the exception of cups. Coffee and tea is customary at this point, and alcohol will disappear. This is when conversation comes back in full swing- talking and unwinding is the goal here, and letting any liquor digest so drivers who may have had a sip will be safe to drive afterwards.

END:

Someone will sigh and take note of the time. This is different depending on the group, but a second round of hugs will be in order. Farewells will be made at the door. If there are plenty of leftovers, the host may insist the guest take some. Borrowed dishes and containers will ostensibly be returned at a casual future meeting, possibly as an excuse to meet up and chat over coffee.

It is polite of the guest to offer a hand with cleaning up. It is polite of the host to insist they not. If they are an acquaintance or someone to be impressed, the guest will not be allowed to help clean unless they make it clear that offense will be taken otherwise. If they're a close friend or family member, they may be accepted with some minimal pushback.

The host might start cleaning while the guest is still at the table. This is not intended as an insult.

It is polite to leave around the same time that children begin getting ready for best- usually around 8, 8:30, 9-9:30 on special occasions.

If the weather is especially terrible, or driving conditions are poor, the host might offer the guest a bed for the night. If this is done, it is best to fetch them clean sheets and blankets, a fresh towel, and whatever else they might need. They will be expected to stay no later than breakfast the following morning, unless further plans have been agreed upon. An especially prepared host might have a spare set of pajamas (close friends and family only, usually) and a new toothbrush ready for use.

I think that's everything? A lot of it is weird unspoken shit but yeah lol that's most of what I remember.

I'd love to hear what everyone else grew up with!! Share with me your food culturrrrrrre

[dreamesamu]

THE THINGS HE TAKES FOR GRANTED

in which he takes a moment to justify himself after never noticing your little crush for him

starring. msby!miya atsumu x fem!reader

genre(s): angst to fluff, long scenario sets in post-timeskip!

warning(s): reader is nice and overworks herself. not proofhead i apologize

author’s note: It's kind of not what i had imagined but hope you enjoy it.

choose your character: m. atsumu | k. akaashi

another cliché beginning for the person you are right now - the MSBY team manager - is that you’ve loved the miya atsumu since high school. it’s not like being the team’s manager isn’t your dream, you loved this job and had been dying to do it because you’ve loved volleyball, too. plus, you will have the opportunity to stay close and take care of the team, especially your crush who just merely thinks you are his best friend.

you first laid eyes on him when you were sitting alone on the subway, his dyed-blonde locks caught your attention as he first talked to you about the chase atlantic’s song you were listening to, he was cute, warm and friendly. at that moment, you were verified that he wasn’t the guy who was fond of his fan girls that everybody had been rumoring about. He eventually found out that you guys went to the same high school, so as to start a new beginning of your bonding friendship.

It wasn’t long until you finally realized that you might have adored the pretty setter a little too much than usual. his touches, his smile, the way he calls your name and his genuine characteristics when he was used to you being around seemed a little bit more easy to flutter your heart than every other day. Ever since then, you just hid your feelings and was grateful for what you got right then because you knew that if you confess, you couldn’t get this best friend treatment that you silently fell for for any longer.

You impressed yourself for even keep it until now. you and him are mature and beautiful, but you still can’t help but feel so ‘high school’ when you look at him. the least thing you could do for a friend (crush) is care for him through bottles of flavored electrolyte water, preparing his favorite after-practice snacks and even cool and soft towels to calm the heat down after a match. However, it seems like mr. miya doesn’t notice all of the hard work you did for him, he was so used to be taken care of by you that he accidentally failed to realize the special treatment only for him but nobody else.

“Hey, tired yet? you can call it a day for now if you want?” you smiled, hand over his bottle of water you prepared for him to the softly panting atsumu taking a break on the bench. He is quite preoccupied with his earlier techniques that he need to improve, he only spares you a glance then takes the bottle to drink without saying any words, you assume that he is in a bad mood.

“oh, and” you search for the thing in your bag. “here, your towel”

he nods and takes it, it makes you feel awkward. that’s… all…? You try to not overthink yourself, after all, it was quite a tense match, and the fact that your team will have an important volleyball game the next month proves his concerns are valid.

you watch atsumu leave when hinata shoyo came up to you.

“oh? isn’t that our manager?” you startle at his voice. “hehe, please don’t mind tsumu at all, please, he just got pissed because he made a mistake during practice” the sunshine grins, having him around surely just brighten everything up, because he is just so sweet and comfortable to be with.

“no, no,… I really don’t mind at all, actually” you know atsumu better than anyone so you don’t take his actions to heart sometimes, it’s just…

“oi, oi! I know what you’re thinking, I saw you overthere doing things for tsumu. This guy, honestly…” Hinata sure saw you earlier with enthusiasm written on all over your face while preparing those towels and bottles, he felt bad for you and decided to cheer you up regardless atsumu has just cracked your poor heart a little.

“It’s okay, hinata. thank you for checking on me!” you smile wide, so my efforts wasn’t invalidated at all, gratefully bow down to see the awkward hinata trying to stutter words out.

“no- no, don’t do that, you are our manager, that’s just nothing! besides, seeing you give tsumu so special treatment makes me real jealous!!” he huffs cutely. “I really want that flavored electrolyte water, too! what a shame he wouldn’t notice.”

you laugh sheepishly as you guys return to your dorms to rest. things have been going hard for you like crazy, the work amount weighing on your shoulders make it almost unbearable, but you still stay strong and put a warm smile on your face so nobody would notices. you have been thinking of retiring just in case the situation just got worse to the level of destroying your mental health. but, by thinking of your small joy of seeing atsumu everyday, you hesitated.

your sleepless nights start when the important games take a step closer, you overworked yourself and often feel burnt out, your time with atsumu narrows as you find it hard to start a conversation even in lunch break. atsumu does feel weird. why isn’t y/n sit with us? she is nowhere to be found these days.

“hey, tsum-tsum” said bokuto. “what do you think of y/n?” he said, putting a tray of food on the table while making his way to sit.

“y/n? what’s with her?” the fake blond raises a brow, munching on his food

“I think she’s so cute and thoughtful, base on her affection for you, i betcha she’s completely smitten” the owl laughs as the other teammates giggle along. “you should consider on dating her, what a waste if you don’t, she’s literally girlfriend material, same thoughts huh, hinata?” he winks and the tangerine head give him back a thumbs up.

“dating y/n, huh?” atsumu laughs as if he doesn’t take bokuto’s statements seriously. “I don’t date my friends, you know. besides, y/n is just a close friend of mine, she ain’t my type”

“heartless tsumu… she worked so hard for you these days…” hinata fake crying when talking about you

“I know that she makes snacks and does things for me, but sometimes, that’s just unnecessary, i don’t need it to be all the damn time, it feels a little annoying, i just need to be alone to refresh my thoughts” he sighs. “now you told me to consider on dating her, i wouldn’t know how long i can take it.”

now there is dead silence following his statement, everybody just awkwardly continues finishing their lunch, and you do know eavesdropping is a thing that you shouldn’t do. but you did. before you even notice, hot streams cover your face and you feel your breath hitches. the coach sends you to check on the team at such wrong timing, you can’t face them, the voices earlier destroy your confidence, replace it with angst and hurt. so… what i did is just a bother to him, huh. you realize now, that you were such a dumbass trying to make him catch feeling by all of this. and with the tiniest amount of pride left, you back up a smile and step into the cafeteria, the atmosphere suddenly feels tense as everybody hasn’t been moving on since their last conversation, atsumu feels an uneasy feeling when he sees you behind him, guilt? he thinks.

“hey… coach sent me to check up on you guys, please be well rested at your dorms after lunch, we have practice match at 2pm, alright?” your voice evidently trembles, you try cover it up with some fake coughs. oh, who are you kidding? it’s atsumu miya we’re talking about. he first notices how your eyes are a bit swollen, have you been crying? your tired figure due to sleepless nights, the way you haven’t eaten properly shows right in front of his eyes. he suddenly felt a twinge in his heart, in which moment he never wanted to see you like this, ever again. but, what’s all this for? he doesn’t like you… right? because- you’re his best friend, and caring is what’s best friends do, am I correct?

you left the cafeteria. atsumu feels like his whole head is going to explode, he regrets what he said earlier, knowing seventy per cent that you might have listened to it. he is weak because of guilt and distaste. the group feels uneasy and moody all of a sudden.

“i haven’t told you this before but you’ve seen her now, tsumu… she overworked herself with this huge amount of work with nobody beside her, yet she still maintaining to take care of you with these small gestures.” hinata sighs heavily. “y/n told me not to tell you about her state so you can concentrate on practising, but I’m really worried because now she can’t even hide it anymore. I tried to help, but she pushed me away and told me that i should do my own practices as our game is going to start soon.”

hinata pats atsumu’s back before leaving as if he’s signalling him to make it up to you. atsumu started to cry at this point. how could he be so clueless? he didn’t even know that his best friend was undergoing such pressure, yet why does the term “best friend” sound so irritating? he felt like he had failed to protect you and worse, hurting your feelings and he regretted it, so badly.

The following day comes, atsumu's first task is to search for you. To his astonishment, you are once more nowhere to be found. he was so preoccupied, his spikes aren’t as good, and he could not concentrate on practising, the coach sent him out, and gave him a moment to rethink by himself. and so, he reaches a staff, asking for information about you.

“Y/n? oh… she’s at the infirmary, we noticed her devastated state so we sent her to the doctor a while ago. now think about it I might write a report to the coach asking him to reduce the amount of work she’s handling.”

“thank you, kind sir. may I be the one who’ll write the report? I’m sure I could convince the coach.”

as the man nods, atsumu bowed goodbye to him and sprints to the infirmary where you’re at. he knows, that if anybody should write a report for you, it must be him. he must protect you because he has just realised it now, he likes you a lot more than he could imagine.

“Y/N!” atsumu slams the door open, he faces you with your eyes widened, startled by the bright window.

“tsumu…?” you softly speak.

atsumu in front of your eyes is the atsumu who tries to hold back his tears, biting his bottom lip as the poor heart lurching somewhere in his stomach but somehow still happy because he has found you.

“hey…” he kneels down on one knee beside you. “i’m sorry, angel” his hand softly squishes the smaller one, it holds back gently on his’

in all of the things you dislike, what you utterly don’t want to deal with is your emotions when you see atsumu looking so vulnerable like this. you instinctually grab a tissue and wipe off the sweat drop on his forehead the moment you see it, atsumu’s worried expression won’t vanish unless you speak up something.

“hey…” you smile. “don’t worry, I’m okay now, tsumu” you fondly touch his face with a hand, and he sinks in your touch, eyes glittering. atsumu intentionally plants a soft kiss on your warm palm and watches you go weak for him.

“i like you, y/n” he sighs. “i don’t want us to be just friends. i want to protect you, want to be the kind of guy who mentally support his girl to help her cope with any pressure.”

he looks up to see your widened eyes, without a response, he continues.

“i’m sorry i said the things i didn’t mean when you were there, I was just…" he gulps nervously and you sigh.

"tsumu... if it's too much for you to bear, maybe i should stop doing those things, okay?" you scoff bitterly, he becomes panic

“no, no, no,... i really like the way you care for me, please, i want your attention. please keep doing it. don’t get tired of me…”

you can feel the pulse bumping in your nerves, your heart flutters, and blood rushes into your cheeks just by hearing his confession. you kneel down beside him, fighting back the tears but then you can’t, so you squish him in a hug. atsumu holds you back as you start sobbing on his white shirt, inhales fondly your intoxicating smell and pats rhythmically on your back

“there, there, my angel. i’m here now. i’m sorry i’m late. let me make this up for you, yeah?” he chuckles.

atsumu loves his girlfriend. after hearing you ramble about your tight schedule, he immediately writes a report based on your experience to inform the coach about your condition so that everyone can share in your responsibilities instead of you having to handle everything alone. it wasn’t that long for the msby mates to realize you guys are together, he wrote in that report that he is your boyfriend, anyway.

“you nailed it, tsumu-kun” hinata bumps him with a thumbs up, atsumu responds with a sheepish grin while bokuto laughs beside him and sakusa just doesn’t really give a shit. 

he spots you standing on the opposite road near the brand new cafe, waving back to him smiling, “nah, gotta run. gonna treat my girlfriend with extra pastry today.”

i guess he is the simp now.

© 2024 dreamesamu. all rights reserved.

a recommendation to cope with your broken heart <3

[cavegirlpoems]

The problem with the 'play another game that isn't D&D' thing is that every time it comes around, inevitably, somebody says something to the effect of: "So what's the game should I play instead of it" and this just makes me want to slam my head into the floor in frustration because it totally misses the point. There is not, and cannot be, a single game that I can cheerfully reccomend blind to everybody to replace D&D as their forever game. This is for two reasons: 1) Different players (which includes GMs) have different tastes. People look for different levels of complexity, levels of narrative control, levels of competitiveness, amounts of customisability, genres, tones, settings, campaign-lengths, degrees of generic or specificness, and required arts-and-crafts projects. Without knowing somebody's specific tastes - which they might not even really be sure of themselves if all they know is D&D - you can't reccomend them a game that will suit those tastes, because taste is subjective. 2) you don't actually want a single forever game that you play to the exclusion of all else. People will want a change of pace, or to explore different ideas, or the excitement of novelty. Instead of simply having 'my game that I play', you want to pick the game that works best for what you want to do today. "Oh, what game should I swap in to replace D&D?" is a fucking assinine question. It's like asking "you're into music, what song should I listen to?" My man I don't know you, and even if I did even the best song is gonna suck after the 500th repetition if its all you listen to.

[prokopetz]

I'm asking you because I've seen people ask you similar questions before. Why are kobolds, as a fantasy creature, so nebulous?

Generally when people say orc, goblin, elf, dwarf, werewolf, vampire etc. a person can have a pretty solid idea of what traits that animal will have. I guess because they're usually copying that species from the same similar source works?

What happened to kobolds? I used to know them as a kind of german folklore creature, but then also as a short lizard person, and most recently there's been Dungeon Meshi, which gives the name kobold to anthropomorphic dogs.

Well, the trick is that none of these terms have a standard definition. In folklore, the words "elf", "dwarf", "gnome", "troll", "goblin", "pixie", etc. are used more or less interchangeably – all of these words might refer to the exact same folkloric critter, and conversely, the same word might be used to refer to several completely different folkloric critters, even within the same body of regional folklore, to say nothing of how their usage varies across different regions and over time.

Literally the only reason any of these terms have "standard" definitions in modern popular culture is because one specific piece of media got mega-popular and everybody copied it. For example, Tolkien is responsible not only for the popular media stereotypes of elves and dwarves: he's responsible for popularising the idea that "elf" and "dwarf" are separate kinds of creatures to begin with. Similarly, while Bram Stoker's Dracula isn't solely responsible for cementing the idea of what a vampire is in popular culture, it did standardise what vampire magic can do, and it helped cement the idea that a "vampire" and a "werewolf" are different beasties, which hasn't always been the case.

So the short answer is that there's just never been a mega-popular work about "kobolds" to provide a standard template for the type. Most modern depictions in Anglophone popular culture ultimately point back to the interpretation set forth by Dungeons & Dragons, but D&D itself has gone back and forth on the whether they're tiny dog-people or tiny lizard-people, with the tiny dog-person version being the earlier of the two, so even folks who are directly cribbing from D&D will vary on this point depending on which particular edition they're name-checking.

[elikajinnie]

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.

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 16

16th — toys, Lando Norris

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

"What about you honey, how is work going?" Lando's mom asks from the other end of the table.

"It's going great actually, not to jinx it but I might be getting a-" You gasp when you feel the vibrations inside you.

"A what?" His dad questions.

"Go on my love, tell them." You glare at your boyfriend that thinks it's so funny to tease you right now.

"A p-promotion. You clear your throat trying to get yourself together.

As Lando's parents congratulate you in your head you're just thinking that this was such a terrible idea. It seemed so exciting when you first talked about it but not so much in this moment as you rub your thighs together feeling the little egg vibrator deep inside you. To his parents he seems to be just casually playing with his phone, but you knew the app he had open like the back on your hand and every time you see his thumb moving up you press your lips together to hold in a moan.

You try to keep the conversation going but it's getting harder as you can feel your panties get soaked by the second. You sneak some glances at him but he just looks so relaxed and chill like he's not making a mess out of you as he draws random shapes with his finger on the screen.

After some time you're practically dripping on your chair and you don't know how much more you can take before you either give into the pleasure and let yourself cum in the middle of the restaurant or just sneak a hand between your legs and pull the toy out.

"I'll be right back." You politely excuse yourself deciding to go for a third safer option.

You walk to the bathroom, struggling to walk normally with your legs just wanting to give in, but as you're closing the door a hand stops it. Lando steps inside locking the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" He teases. "This is not what we agreed."

"I know, I just." You whimper, legs shaking. "I can't take it anymore."

"C'mon baby, I know you can." He steps closer, phone on his hand making the vibrator hit its highest setting only to drop it down to nothing.

"Lando, please..." You plea letting yourself lean back against the wall.

"What is it?" He smirks. "Do you or do you not want to cum?"

"I do..." You bite your lip as the vibrations go back up.

"Then come back to the table." His voice is dark and full of lust.

"I can't..." You moan taking his free hand under your dress to feel your drenched underwear. "Do you think I can go back like this?"

"Damn baby, I didn't know you were this wet." Pulling your panties to the side he runs a finger between your folds pushing it inside you until he feels the toy vibrate against his fingertip.

You hold his shoulders for support, moaning loudly without caring if everybody can hear you outside this bathroom, all you want is to cum and by the way he moves the vibrator inside you it won't take long.

“Don’t you just love it, darling?” His eyes didn’t leave your swollen core. One huge sweet smile painted on his face, such a contrast from all of the scenarios in his head. “Do you love me doing this to you?”

You could only answer him with a rapid nod. Head unable to make up a word, making your mouth to just let out countless whines and mumbles. Your hips moved slightly, getting closer to the toys in hope for them to get you closer to your high. Again.

“Greedy baby wanted more of my toys, hm?” He pressed the vibrator harder to your clit as he moved the silicone dildo faster.

Your screams echoed through the walls, your back arched to the wall. Your sight blurred as your eyes started to prick with tears. “I– I’m close, Lan. I– Want you please. Want to cum on you.” You’re just spitting every word you can make at this point.”

Lando giggled as he looked at you pleading. He put the toys beside on the sink as he try to undo his belt, “And my princess will get whatever she wants.”

Once his pants is off, he grabbed your waist to flip you against the sink, your face now facing the mirror inthe bathroom. Butterfly kisses were left by him on your shoulder blade as he pushed into you in one push. Moans and groans merged together as your warm walls wrapped him tightly.

“I’ve fucked you with that toy yet you’re still this tight– Fuck.” He bit the skin where your neck and shoulder met, making a mark to bloom there. 

He grunts, thrusting deeper into you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the small bathroom. The mirror fogged up from your combined breaths and exertion.

"You love this, don't you? Love being filled by me, loved by me," he growls, nipping at your earlobe. "Tell me how much you need it, baby. Tell me how much you crave my cock."

His words are filthy, but they only spur you on, making your inner walls clench around him tighter. You're so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"That's it, scream for me," Lando commands, slamming into you with brutal force."

With a loud groan, Lando hilts himself fully inside you, his release pulsing hotly against your cervix. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavily as aftershocks wrack through his body.

"Fuck...you feel incredible, Honey," he rasps, placing soft kisses along your sweat-slicked skin. "Love you so damn much..."

He slowly pulls out, both of you wincing at the loss. With gentle hands, he turns you around to face him, cupping your face tenderly. His thumbs brush over your cheeks, wiping away the tears that escaped during your intense coupling.

"My beautiful girl," Lando murmurs adoringly, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

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[fakebwitch]

drew starkey dating victoria’s secret angel

you met for the first time during one of your shows, drew had accompanied a friend of his who went to attend his girlfriend's show, insisting that drew might find someone who would finally catch his eye, and he did. when it was your time to walk down the runway, as you walked confidently looking in front of you you felt a pair of eyes burning into you, even though you shouldn't have, you gave a quick glance at him. you met drew's blue eyes, his eyes twinkling under the catwalk lights as he observed every inch of your body. you stopped, posing in front of the cameras and then turned back, all the while feeling his gaze fixed on you.

when the show was over, after changing, you and your friend headed for the exit, her boyfriend and the mystery boy who couldn't take his eyes off you during the show were waiting. as your friend kissed her boyfriend you met his gaze.

"drew" he said, the corner of his mouth rising in a small smile as he held out his hand to you, you shook it with pleasure as you said your name to him.

drew wasted no time and immediately asked for your number that night, since he had seen you walking he knew he had to have you, and he did. months later you were finally a couple.

he loved, loved seeing you walk, he always did his best to attend each of your events. he admired you with so much love, his gaze observing every inch of your body as you wore the most beautiful lingerie. of course he was always in the front row, ready to cheer you on. sometimes you let a small grin slip out as you met his gaze, or when he was luckier even a wink.

before some show he would always try to peek at the pictures they had taken of you, eager to know what you would be wearing, especially your wings, but each time you always pushed him away, saying it would be a surprise.

when you were at home and he was waiting for you lying on your comfortable bed, and you came out of the bathroom wearing the sexiest set of lingerie he had ever laid eyes on, he didn't fail to be shocked by your body, he was so obsessed with it. you loved putting on little shows for him, just for his eyes, and he loved it too.

after the shows he couldn't wait to take you back to your house so he could finally stick his hard cock inside you. let's be serious, no matter how hard he tried to be good and hold back all the dirty thoughts he could think of, he couldn't help but feel his cock harden under his pants as he watched the way your hips swayed from side to side, your tits bounced in the provocative bra or the way your ass moved, could you blame him?

sometimes you felt a little down, after all you worked with your appearance, the way you looked was everything, you had to be perfect. drew was always waiting for you with open arms, his muscular arms would push you onto his lap as he held you tightly, embracing you as he whispered reassuring phrases. “you did soo good baby, don’t even stress about it, you looked so beautiful and your walk was amazing, everybody was admiring you, my perfect pretty girl”. he always knew the right things to say to you.

on those very rare occasions when he couldn't attend your shows (and trust me, there was nothing he hated more than missing his beautiful girl’s show) because he had to record an interview or was busy with some movie, he always made sure to send you the most beautiful bouquets of flowers. while you were in the backstage, finishing your hair and makeup, a staff girl would come to you holding the bouquet. as you took them in your hands, the floral scent flooding your nostrils, you would read his handwriting on the little card, where he would tell you to don’t stress too much, that as usual you would rock and be the prettiest girl. the other girls would tease you each time laughing as your cheeks blushed, busy rereading the card for the tenth time.

he couldn't always hide his jealousy. I mean, you were walking semi-naked in front of hundreds of people, not to mention all the people from home who would see you, he knew full well what he was up against, but he couldn't stop his jaw from clenching when he spotted some guy in the audience indulging too much on your body. he couldn't wait to get home and fuck you, just to remind himself that you were his.

a/n: actually obsessed with victoria’s secret angel :((, i just know drew and her would have the best relationship, hope you enjoyed it!

[heartlogan]

living to lose

✮— logan x f!mutant!reader (set in worst wolverine’s universe)

✮— summary: logan won’t wear the suit.

✮— a/n: this is gonna be kinda short, but i am in <3 w the concept. (i wrote this in less than an hour bro) i haven’t seen this before so .. lmk if yall want a longer version . perhaps a series ? if yall do, let me know what power reader should have !! and perhaps a nickname 🫡

✮— warnings: DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS, humans vs mutants, and all the prejudice that comes with that, talk of mutants being killed for being mutants etc, xmen bonding, angst, canon typical violence (kinda? mentioned?), logan being stubborn, lmk if theres more!

masterlist | part two

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

Life in the X-Mansion wasn’t what it once was.

If you were honest, life itself had begun to lose that glow that it once had. You supposed that it was hard to retain it when every day you were faced with the reality that humans wanted you all dead. And sure, it wasn’t like you hadn’t known that before, but each day you saw news stories coming out about mutants killed in the street, the X-Men were called out constantly to assist in human and mutant matters, and were always met with hatred.

You just wished that people could coexist. Would that be so difficult? For the humans to realise that mutants weren’t that much different from themselves, not really. Everyone had the fundamental building blocks of human DNA, mutants just so happened to have the X gene thrown in the mix.

Still, there were positives to life. Such as Logan, for you, because you were pretty sure Scott wouldn’t categorise him as a positive.

There had been something unspoken between the two of you for almost a decade, stretching across hundreds of battles and memories. Neither of you had actually brought yourselves to talk about it, both too afraid of loss.

But every night when he struggled to sleep, he joined you in your own bed. An incredible progression of your relationship, really, because it wasn’t like Logan to actually ask for help. Not that he did much talking on those nights. Every time you needed comfort after a painful mission, he was there, brooding silently at your side. A hand on the small of your back, or around your shoulders, if you were lucky.

He refused to acknowledge his role in your life, or his role on the team, no matter how much everybody begged him to.

The infamous Wolverine was so intimidated by the idea of admitting he cared, so scared that it would turn out like his past relationships, that he couldn’t bring himself to accept his place in your lives. He was stubborn, and wouldn’t allow anybody to have leverage over him.

It was another afternoon call out, a mutant in distress, and humans harassing whoever it was. It was bound to get violent, which was why everybody was suiting up.

“C��mon, Logan, just wear the suit.” You said, brows furrowed as you held the folded suit out towards him, watching him roll his eyes. “You’re a part of the team. Wear it.”

“She’s right, Logan.” Storm agreed, already clad in her own suit, much like yourself. It presented a united front, a symbol for other mutants that there was hope out there for them, no matter how dire the world seemed.

“Fuck, no.” Logan responded immediately, voice gruff and dismissive, barely sparing the yellow spandex a glance before he was turning away, grabbing his own jacket from its hanger. “Yellow ain’t my colour, bub.” He grumbled when he felt your eyes still on him, practically carving a hole in the back of his head.

“Logan.” You said pleadingly, feeling disheartened. “We all wear it. You’ll look as handsome as you ever do, I swear.” You attempted, although you weren’t naive enough to believe that the almighty Wolverine could have his mind changed via flattery.

He might have admitted, in another life, that you made the yellow work extremely well. That he knew the team looked good in it, looked put together, almost untouchable. But that wasn’t this life. And he refused to let anybody believe he actually wanted to be a part of this godforsaken self-righteous team that named themselves the X-Men. That wasn’t him. It wouldn’t be him.

Scott wandered in, clad in his own suit, matching visor and all. “It’s not gonna work, guys. I’ve tried. Logan’s far too stubborn.” He said, and none of you could see his eyes, but his disappointment was palpable. Logan only grunted in response.

“Fine,” You said, and he could hear the disappointment despite this not being the first time he had denied the suit. It had been a debate for a long while, by now. “I’ll leave it with you. Just in case you change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Logan said, with an air of finality. You said nothing.

The four of you headed out to the distress call not long after, three in cohesive suits, one decidedly not.

It turned into a fight, as most calls do nowadays, which lasted for what felt like ages. You returned, feeling more exhausted than you had in days. The humans only got more violent with time, inventing new and more powerful ways to hurt mutants. Weapons were being developed against mutant-kind with every day that passed, and it wasn’t lost on the X-Men. Your job was only getting harder and harder. And it was taking its toll on all of you.

“‘M goin’ to the bar. You coming?” Logan asked you, standing in front of where you sat on the couch with Storm, both still in your suits and equally tired. He raised his brows at you, indicating that this was a timed offer. You knew he would be out most of the night, getting as drunk as his healing factor would allow him. It wasn’t that kind of night for you.

“No, thanks. I’m gonna stay with the others.” You answered quietly, wanting nothing more than to marinate in your frustration with the rest of the team.

Logan looked at you for a second longer, hesitating for only a moment, before he grunted and stepped away. You could’ve sworn that he looked disappointed, as though he was hoping you would join him, or maybe ask him to stay. But you knew better, had become familiar with the sting of his rejection each time you had asked him to stay.

You wanted him to be a permanent feature of the X-Mansion, to stay after long missions, to not disappear for weeks at a time. You wanted the whole unspoken thing to become spoken at last, even if it hurt, but you knew he wasn’t ready for it. And despite you feeling similarly, feeling that exact same fear he felt, you knew he wasn’t willing to take on the challenge. To try. Hell, he wouldn’t even wear the suit.

If he had asked whether you wanted him to stay, you would’ve said yes without thought. Without hesitation. But Logan wouldn’t put himself in that situation, so he never did ask. He only hesitated. And for you, that wasn’t enough.

He knew it, too, which might have been the worst part of it all.

You watched him leave, heard the slam of the door behind him not long after, and could only sigh to yourself.

“Everything okay?” Storm asked you from the opposite end of the couch, tilting her head towards you from where she had been idly staring at the ceiling. She looked as though she knew the answer, whether she had already known, or had gotten it from the look on your face, though, you weren’t sure.

“D’you think he’ll ever stick around? Wear the suit?” You questioned her in response, fixing your eyes on the fireplace in front of you for a few moments before her silence became too much. You looked at her, confused and slightly concerned.

She looked as downtrodden as you felt, which was saying something. “I… don’t know. I hope so, but… hope is a feeble thing, in this world. I’m not sure it means much anymore.”

Beast wandered in, with Scott at his side, blue fur still singed from a battle a few days prior. “I’m sure he will come around. Logan is a stubborn man, but a good one.” He commented, pushing his glasses further up his nose, but still squinting through them as he found his place in an armchair.

“We’ll see. Maybe we can make an X-Man of him, yet.” Scott added, sinking into the sofa cushion between you and Storm, wearing his glasses rather than his visor, for once. You thought could almost see the shape of his eyes, through the red lens.

“Either way, I’m sure he’ll linger. If not for us, then for those poor kids. We have all seen how much they idolise him.” Storm said, which was true, but still stung slightly. You wished that Logan would linger for you, too, but you knew it wasn’t likely. But for the kids… well, he might just look back for them.

“He’s their hero.” You agreed quietly, before resting your head on Scott’s shoulder. He said nothing, but you felt his quiet appreciation of the touch. The team needed comfort, in times like these, you included. Beast reached over and took Storm’s hand not long after, and you saw her squeeze him in response.

Jean wandered in not too long later, having been busy helping to look after the new mutant in the medbay. You made space for her between you and Scott, and resumed your position on her shoulder. She rested her head on your own, and the five of you breathed quietly, not speaking. There was nothing much to speak about, nothing that could comfort you, anyway. The world continued its descent into chaos and hatred, and despite the X-Men’s best efforts, nothing any of you did would be changing it.

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It was Beast raising the alarm that woke you up, and Jean jolted awake soon after you.

“The humans, they’re here!” He shouted, diving into action, with Storm and Scott following soon after while you and Jean shared a single glance, her eyes filled with terror.

“Get the kids!” You yelled to her, as you jumped from the couch, heading to confront the humans with Scott, Beast and Storm. All the while, you were wondering where Logan was.

It was a thought that remained present in the back of your head, a wish that he was safe, unharmed. You couldn’t decide whether you wanted him to show up, to be the hero all of the kids knew him to be, or whether you wanted him far away, safe from what you were certain would be a lethal encounter.

The humans wouldn’t just come to the X-Mansion lightly. They would be prepared. Armed to the teeth, you were sure. And the moment you caught a glance outside of the window, seeing the crowds outside, glints of machinery and weapons, you knew you were right.

For a moment, you thought you saw him out there, until the two humans stepped apart, shattering the illusion of their shadows. The call of his name died on your lips.

“X-Men, to me.” Scott called out, and his grave expression told you that he had already had the same realisation as you. Most of you, if any at all, wouldn’t be getting out of this alive.

“Together?” Storm questioned, eyes glowing that bright white that only added to her ethereal look. She locked eyes with you, and you nodded firmly.

“Together.”