s0s1mple

[s0s1mple]

(I’ll put the header up here tomorrow when I’m home)

BLOSSOM — Yan!Idol!Enha x Reader

Part 10 — Ready

TW: Anxiety, alluded blackmail, alluded threatening behavior, alluded mental instability (reader is named and gendered)

Masterlist — Part 1 — Next Part

Sure enough, I stopped by the next day. Stood at the entrance of the studio I’d been directed to by Sunghoon’s texts, refrained from telling the other boys as a sort of surprise, and then I’d promptly worried over surprising them because what if they actually didn’t want me there and-

That sort of thinking was bizarre. I slapped myself out of it with a light pat to the cheek and forced myself to stop pacing outside of the studio like a crazy person. I fidgetted, debating on wearing my mask yet again as a sort of barrier, but I was saved from such a decision by a tap on the shoulder. I wheeled around, wide-eyed, ready to apologize for being on the premises- despite it being exceedingly clear this was still public property I was standing on- only to pause when I saw Jiyeon staring back at me. I blinked at her, eyes wide. On such short notice of deciding to come here, I hadn’t let her know I’d be there. Honestly, I hadn’t even known for sure she would be.

“Haneul?” She cocked her head. Before I could say anything, like how I was glad to see her or how I was simultaneously worried I’d somehow mess up her work day all over again, she wrapped me in a quick hug. “Hey there!” It was brief, friendly, but relaxed my nerves considerably.

“Hi, Jiyeon-ssi!”

“Unnie is fine.” Jiyeon grinned and lowered her hands to hold mine lightly, tethering my thoughts right back to reality. “What are you doing here? Are you here to visit the boys? Is that alright now?”

“I, uh-” I paused, flushing a little. “Sunghoon said it was… and he said they really wanted me to come by…” I trailed off. It didn’t feel awkward before to say I was friends with them, though really I was only saying it to myself, but now? It felt a bit odd. Given the reactions of those around me at the filming the other day and the boys’ hiding of me, it had instilled a sort of reaction in my psyche that balked at saying it so openly.

“Oh, ok! I’ll take you right there. I know which room we’ll be shooting in.” But Jiyeon didn’t seem to register my hesitation, didn’t seem to care about the status of my friends, and instead she was soon dragging me into the warehouse. Flashing her badge at the guard, telling him very openly that “She’s a friend of the guests,” and guiding me down a long hallway past various shooting studios. My nerves crawled up my skin as I realized that if Jiyeon was here, then-

“I-Is your whole crew here, unnie? The one from last time?”

“Hm?” She seemed to mercifully hear my hesitation and slowed down a bit as we approached what I figured was the main shooting area. Jiyeon cast me a glance, features softening. “The others? Yeah, a few of them are. But really, you don’t need to worry. I explained it to them once I got the chance, and they understood. Really, most of the crew is pretty kind, as you know. Besides, they really liked you!” As she kept talking, my shoulders slowly lowered, relaxed, that tingling thing in the back of my mind that had recently held me in its grasp relaxing. Yeah, I knew these people. Had had a good time with them. But still, I wondered about one thing.

“And the producer-”

“Not here. Fired, actually, if I’m correct.” That part had my brows pinching. Fired? For what? For the instance with me? Surely not. No, he probably had other instances in the past of poor behavior or something like that. For the moment, I just took solace in the fact that he was out of the picture.

“Ok. Alright.” I took a deep breath at Jiyeon’s insistence and before I knew it she was opening the door for me, ushering me in with a hand on the shoulder. I scooted in, peering around like an owl with my head on a constant swivel. The room was dark, only lit up by the lights shining against a white backdrop, people milling about easily through that darkness like it was second nature. A few shot me curious glances, a few others more familiar looks, and a few more even grinning my way welcomingly. Forward she moved me, guiding me over wires and boxes of clothing and props, pulling me over to a section of the room partitioned off so the light of the makeup mirrors wouldn’t bleed into the shooting area.

There, the boys sat lined up in chairs, makeup artists working on them. Jiyeon tried to usher me closer, to tell them I was there, but with how diligent the artists were being I instead backed up and whispered that I would wait. No need to interrupt their work when they were just trying to do their jobs. So instead I stood against the partition awkwardly, feeling as if I wanted to blend into the black backdrop as people walked by and I shuffled out of the way to make space. As I drifted to the side, trying to make way for a strange pane of hazy plexiglass, I must have drifted into the way of the mirror.

Instantly, I was jolting in surprise as Sunoo let out a gasp and whipped his head around to look at me. “Haneul! You’re here!” The makeup artist darted back, trying to avoid drawing a line of contour down his face as he jolted away and out of the chair. “I didn’t know you’d be coming! I missed you!” His smile was so wide, eyes crinkled- was he wearing blue contacts?- warmth and happiness radiating so entirely from him that it had me wondering how I could even bear to stay away in the first place. I was startled further when he pushed himself into me, his arms wrapping tightly around my torso. My face was pressed into his shoulder from the tightness of the hug, the male rocking lightly from side to side as if he could hardly contain his excitement. I pat him on the back, hugging right back, face burning a little from how enthused he was.

“I’m here! I wanted to surprise you guys…” I mumbled. Sunoo pulled back a little, face only inches from mine, to stare at me. It had my cheeks flaming further.

“You did? Ah, you’re too sweet to us!” He giggled. Only then did he release me, this time to pinch lightly at my cheek and wheel me around to face the rest of them. “Guys, look who’s-!”

“Haneul!” I hardly had a moment detached from one boy before I was pulled into another’s grasp. Jake had barreled into me, wrapping himself around me, his momentum carrying him a little past me. To adjust for the momentum, he lifted, and I soon found myself twirling around in circles in the air. I balanced my hands on his shoulders, surprised, but just as soon as it started my feet were back on the ground and Jake was grinning ear to ear at me. “You’re back!” He was doing that vibrating thing that I’d learned meant he was really, really happy, and I chuckled out a breathy laugh.

“Sure am. But I think you kinda need to finish up your makeup…” I jerked my chin in their chairs’ direction, shooting an apologetic smile at their makeup artists. They looked on politely, but I could read their urgency in their posture.

“Aw what? Them? No, they can wait-”

“Jake, I’ll leave if I think I’m interrupting.” Sunoo, who had been ready to back Jake up on such a matter, along with the other boys who’d been rising from their chairs, were quick to make their way back to their places. But Riki, evidently done with his makeup, was soon at my side. He, like the others, was done up in an elegantly fitted suit, his hair groomed and soft-looking.

Just as soft-looking as the expression I was faced with. He looked at me almost timidly, an echo of the emotion I’d read in his posture the first day we’d met. Young, insecure. So just the same, I took the initiative and worked to soothe his worries. I smiled at him and reached out, my ear pressing to his chest as I hugged him. A slight tense, surprise rolling off him in waves.

I wasn’t a very touchy person, after all.

But he was quick to reciprocate, his chin settling on my head, arms slithering around me and constricting quickly. Like he was worried I’d disappear. “Told you I just needed some time, you big loser. I’m back.” I mumbled. He didn’t say anything in return, just swallowed thickly, but with his large palms drifting softly over my shoulderblades, I could feel the tension melting from his frame. “Missed you too, Riki.”

Then I pulled back, pressing past the arms that tensed around me like he didn’t want to let go, and smiled brightly up at him. “Alright, so what’s the theme of this photoshoot? Formal wear?” I asked, peering around. A lot of items were shrouded in shadow, unfortunately. All at once, Riki’s slightly happy, slightly vulnerable expression was gone. In its place was a flush to his cheeks, one I rarely saw. I cocked my head curiously as he floundered for words.

“You’ll see.” Jay, who had evidently also finished his makeup in the time Riki and I interacted, loomed up behind me. His arms were shoved casually into his pockets, posture lax. No initiated hug, but he lightly bumped my shoulder. And even with a passive face, I could read warmth in his eyes. Like comforting candles peering back at me through dark bangs. I smiled at him in welcome, bumping shoulders right back, and I saw his lips twitch upwards before he turned to Riki. “I think you’re up first, they’re trying to get through things decently fast apparently.”

Immediately Riki was furrowing his brows, whining at Jay and gesturing vaguely at me. “She can go with you. We’ll all be over there eventually anyways.” And that was all the permission Riki needed as he grabbed me by the hand, grinning softly and pulling me over.

I was sort of beginning to feel like a toy getting yanked about, honestly. But all the same, being dragged around because I was wanted was hardly a negative feeling.

Riki said something quick to one of the camera men, grabbed a stool, and sat me down directly next to the camera. I froze up, looking about in worry that I had stolen somebody’s chair, but to my surprise no comment at all was made. Things just progressed like I wasn’t even there. “Riki-ssi, can you wear these?” Glasses stained with… blood…? Oh yeah. A vampire. Riki put them on, grinned teasingly at me as he waggled them up and down over his nose, until someone came by and adjusted it right where they wanted it. “Now look here!”

Shots upon shots, then… then they were bringing up rope. As they knotted the pale length over his arms, in between them and dragging his forearms close together, I suddenly had an inkling of what the theme might actually be. What had Riki flushing so nervously. That realization had my own cheeks flushing, eyes darting about. He wasn’t doing anything suggestive really, but the implication-?

I felt like a fish out of water.

“Angle your body here… and then here… can you hold your arms up a bit more and try whatever pose feels natural?” On and on it went until, with Riki’s goofy grins at me in between shots, I was right back to feeling comfortable again. A bit strange, sure, but comfortable. As his shoot wrapped up for the moment with the male untied and wearing a mask of some sort, he rushed forwards with a mock monster-roar. I giggled, swatting at him as he loomed over my chair with his arms outstretched.

“Back, foul beast!”

“Foul? I’m wearing Jay-hyung's best cologne! Smell!” He leaned down, sliding the mask off and crooking his neck to the side, and I just batted at him some more.

“I’m not sniffing your neck, weirdo.”

“But it’s on brand! Vampire stuff! Noona!”

Eventually a pouting Riki was dragged off to touch up his hair and makeup and in his place came Jungwon. Jungwon, with his blond hair almost appearing white under the bright lights. He drifted like an angel up to me, dimples on full show, his frame wiggling a little with his goofy smile as he approached. Just as he apparently wanted, I was immediately smiling and laughing, pointing at how stupid it looked. But he reached me and his face eased a little, turning to something softer.

“I’m really glad I get to do my shoot with you here. It’d be so dry otherwise.” He said. Then he reached out, moving a strand of hair from my face, and leaned in a bit. Close enough to where I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. My heart stuttered at the sudden closeness, even as the rest of me was calmed by the crescent of his eyes. “You’re like our lucky charm. Everything feels so much better when you’re here with us.” It was a roundabout way of saying just how valued I was, that I didn’t need to worry about anything, and as always with Jungwon it was evident just how easy he found it to read me.

I coughed awkwardly, leaning away with my ears burning, and shooed him towards the stage. “Dunno how luck plays into being attractive for the camera, but sure.” I managed. Jungwon leaned back, chuckling a little, a mischievous glint to his eye. He struck an awkward pose the second he reached position, his face strikingly serious given the weird bend of his arms, and I snorted.

“Do I look good?”

“Good is subjective.” I giggled.

“If the answer isn’t no, then your luck is working.” He stuck his tongue out at me, I gasped in mock-offense, and his shoot began. First gloves, a tilt of the head and a sensual grip of the neck. Then that mask that Riki had had, Jungwon looking at the camera. But every now and then, his gaze would drift to me, and I’d point at the camera to signal him to look back. He’d tilt his head, rolling his eyes fondly eventually, and fix that piercing stare elsewhere. Then, of course, came the rope.

They wound it around his fist, telling him to pull the free end this way and that, trying to get a nonchalant but… sexy picture.

Yeah, my instincts on what they were going for were really starting to look like they were on the money.

“Mm… Noona, can you hold this for me?” Jungwon suddenly asked. I jolted out of my thoughts, bewildered and a little nervous with the attention suddenly on me. But I stood up, slowly at first, until he waved me over more enthusiastically and I rushed over. He handed me the other end of the rope. “What if we make it more dynamic? Like I’m pulling away from something?” He voiced towards the production. He reached out, wrapping the end of the rope around my hand a couple times, fingers drifting over my skin, tugging to make sure it was in place. I shuffled a bit, feeling awkward all over again, but Jungwon smiled at me and leaned back. Enough to make the rope go taut but not enough to pull me anywhere.

“Ah, Jungwon-ssi, that actually works well! Good idea.” Someone said suddenly. Jungwon shot me a teasing look, as if to scold me for feeling so nervous- of course he knew I was nervous again- before striking a variety of poses with the new concept. Eventually that too was done, Jungwon showing me a couple of the pictures. Of course I was cropped out, and that too made me relax enough to begin to babble excitedly to him about how nice they turned out.

“Wow, the colorgrading is so good! And the lighting looks awesome on you, Wonnie! What sort of lens do they use? How about?”

“Wonnie?”

I paused. He was staring at me, eyes a little wide. “Uh-”

“I love it.” Dimples, creased eyes, Jungwon’s shoulder bumping with mine before he headed back off to makeup.

Soon Sunghoon was approaching, adjusting his cufflinks and the glasses that Riki had been given. A nervous habit, I realized immediately. Sunghoon liked his job, of course he did, but as he’d expressed to me before it was still nerve wracking to do new concepts for him. My mind flitted away from my talk with Jungwon in favor of me standing up to meet Sunghoon as he arrived at the set. With how much he’d comforted me last night, how much he’d burrowed behind my walls to tell me exactly what he thought despite how against his nature it must have been, I felt the need to provide that same comfort.

“You look so good!” I cheered immediately. He blinked at me, seemingly startled by my enthused greetings. Then, with a shy smile- and was that red dusting his ears or was it just the shadows? -he dipped his head in appreciation.

“Ah, thank you.” He still seemed flustered, somehow, but his fidgeting had stopped. In its place he now smiled slightly. “Told you they’d be happy to see you.”

“I knew they would, but I’m glad you told me all the same.” I grinned right back, raising my hand in a thumbs up. “I needed it.” Then I cleared my throat and moved back towards my chair, waving him after me and grinning. He followed after, luckily picking up on the fact that I didn’t want to talk about that matter save for our brief acknowledgement, and stepped on stage. Some people came out, shining his shoes and fixing up the cuff-links he’d already fixed.

At that, Sunghoon shot them a subtle look that could only be described as intensely judgmental. It was such a bizarre look from Sunghoon- albeit one that fit his personality well- that it had me busting out laughing, standing up from the chair and walking off to the side to stifle my giggles lest I distract people. It had Sunghoon’s cheeks bunching, fanged smile appearing, and he rocked back on his heels with an almost proud look on his face.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, brows raised. He obviously knew what I had spotted.

“You’re ridiculous.” I threw out towards him as they finished fixing him up. He shrugged, chuckles fading as the shoot started up. But his eyes stayed on me just off to the right, standing beyond the shot, even as his expression eased into something more even.

More genuine and serious, maybe. More… dark, hungry somehow. Or was that just because of the way his bangs fell? It had me pausing, laugh dying, face freezing in a slightly confused smile. But then the director spoke up. “Excellent expression, Sunghoon-ssi!” Oh yeah. Yeah, duh.

And time restarted.

He held the mask to his face, tried out the rope, and then had the team decide it seemingly didn’t fit him like it did the others. Apparently, a more sophisticated and controlled look suited him. Honestly, I agreed. Sunghoon was reserved, after all.

Or at least he was most of the time, I thought as Sunghoon strode over to me with one deliberate step at a time, head held aloft and swiveling like he wasn’t really heading for me at all. In an instant he was assaulting me, arms sliding under my armpits and hoisting me up. “Rah!” He mock-screamed, grin betraying his fake attack.

I flailed off my feet a bit, the surprising strength of the male carrying me, my chest pressing to his much like when Jake grabbed me earlier. “Would you guys stop manhandling me!” I squawked as he hoisted me somewhere I couldn’t see. I felt very much like a cat being grabbed under the arms and taken about, Sunghoon peering at me in exactly the same manner. Like he was cooing at me and it was making his day.

Reserved, my ass.

When I visited my sister next time, I would be sure not to grab her kitten Yoongi in such a way. I could sympathize now.

It was not Sunghoon willingly putting me down that ended the bizarre carrying session, but instead that he smacked into someone. Or rather I did, since I was out in front of him. I made a further noise of panic, cheeks flushing deeper, worried I was bothering some poor employee. But when hands settled on either side of my waist, just under my ribs, and pulled me from Sunghoon’s grasp I realized it had to be one of the members.

Sure enough, Jay peeked around over my shoulder, brow raised. “Is he bothering you?”

“Bothering?” Sunghoon huffed indignantly, as if he had any right to. I floundered for a moment, having a snarky remark ready on the tip of my tongue until I registered that even with my feet on the ground, his hands had yet to move. They were solid, firm, resting there like there was no issue at all.

“I, uh- yeah?“

“Step back!” Jay suddenly barked, voice pitching up to a tone that carried sharply over the room. It had me jolting in surprise, heart hammering as it sounded out right next to my ear. I was moved behind Jay’s form then, the male spreading his arms and shoulders out wide like he was acting as a blockade. Then he put his fingers to his ear like he was using an intercom. “You will not touch the lady!”

It was so stupid. Sunghoon evidently thought the same judging by the exasperated look he shot Jay, but in my opinion he also didn’t have much room to judge. Jay had humor like an uncle trying too hard, but Sunghoon was sometimes like a dad trying to be hip. So I played along with Jay instead, hiding behind his shoulder.

“Get him!” I cried. Jay mock raised his fist, Sunghoon tried to feint forwards to get around him, and when it failed Sunghoon just took off running towards the makeup station like it had been the plan all along. I grinned wide after his retreating form, turning back to Jay and clasping my hands together jokingly. “My hero!”

He gave a brief nod, jaw set, face stone cold. “Of course, miss.” But the way his lip trembled trying to hold his own laugh in was enough to ruin the fake-bodyguard act. I snickered, and he was very quickly grinning that warm grin of his at me.

“Alright, enough joking, you’ve got a job to do.” I ushered him towards the shooting location with a shooing motion.

“Boo.” He said, deadpan. But still he let me usher him, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders hunched like it was a great burden.

Onto the stage he went, immediately donning the mask and doing a few headshots with it. Some people came up, adjusting his bangs constantly, and I giggled as a stray hair made him sneeze loud enough to scare some employees. And he had the nerve to look completely unashamed of such a loud noise until he looked at me, his tan cheeks flushing a bit before he cleared his throat and turned back to model some more.

Then it was the rope, done up in elegant twists and knots that made me curious just how one got the job of doing such a thing. As they moved the camera about, trying to get a better angle, I was hit with a little bit of bravery and called out to him. “Hey Jay!”

“Hmm?” Immediately he was attentive.

“Catch!” I tossed a piece of paper in his direction. Just as immediately, he was floundering. With his forearms tied together he couldn’t get his arms up high enough, and the result was him looking like a cat who got stuck in a net of yarn and couldn’t get out. The paper bounced off his hands, hit him in the face, and rolled to the floor.

Jay looked immensely offended. I couldn’t stop laughing. From being treated like a cat to entertaining one, I supposed.

More shooting, then the jacket came off and suspenders were attached to his pants.

A couple of members had said to me before that Jay was the wealthiest of their group, a fact that mildly surprised me. I had assumed, based purely on vibe and look, that it might have been someone like Sunghoon. But then again, that was probably my K-Drama brain in overdrive. They always cast the Sunghoon types for roles like that, obviously. But seeing him now with a crisp white shirt and suspenders I’d only seen in things like American Psycho or on other wealthy American movie characters, I was seeing what the ever humble Jay had been born into.

He wrapped up his shoot cleanly, thoroughly impressing me with his professionalism and how modeling-Jay contrasted with gecko-smile, awkward-endearing Jay in between shots. “Double thumbs up.” I rated him at the end, showing said motion. He waltzed over.

“Oh yeah?” Then he held up his own two thumbs up. “I’ve got some for you too.”

“For what-? Oh, god.” He pushed his two hands together, angling each thumb towards the other, and pushed one behind the other. Instantly, a finger heart was formed. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Made you smile though.” He grinned back, tilting his head, and dropped his hands. He seemed very proud of himself.

I forced my smile away and glared instead, and as Jay padded backwards towards makeup he kept blowing me finger heart after finger heart with a perfectly straight face.

Up until Heeseung walked in the opposite direction and smacked the back of Jay’s head, sending his hair everywhere. Jay glared, Heeseung grinned mischievously, and soon enough it was Heeseung who took his place by my side. He looked down at me.

“Having fun?”

“Huh? Loads.” I said earnestly. His smile widened. It softened, but it was somehow even brighter. Then I paused and pinched my brows. “Wasn’t your hair just red?” It was black now, the sudden change jarring.

“Oh that? It’s still red. Look.” He leaned down closer to my level, pulling some locks back and showing the roots underneath the layering. Still cherry colored. “It’s temporary dye. They got a bit too dye-happy with the red before they realized they needed to do some concept shooting without it.”

“How is your hair not fried?” I asked, genuinely wondering. “I tried dying my hair back when I was fresh out of highschool and it got dry so fast…”

“Dunno, maybe I’m just better than you.” He chuckled and reached up. My hair was ruffled, much to my disappointment, and Heeseung danced out of range of my swatting with his tongue stuck out at me. I raced after him though, something he obviously wasn’t expecting, and his casual hopping turned quickly into a scramble. “Lee Heeseung!”

“Kim Haneul!” He shot back, twisting to hop on stage and hopefully escape my wrath.

He did so, but not because of me stopping at the edge of the stage. Instead it was because, in the dim light of the area surrounding said stage, it was hard to see. I tripped over a wire and a box of something heavy.

It was like I’d been grabbed by the ankles and swung forward as fast as possible. I slammed into the ground, luckily not trying to break my fall due to how sudden it was, and the air whooshed out of me. Honestly, it was a miracle my skull didn’t make contact with the concrete. Something clattered, there was some commotion, and hands were gently helping me up.

Heeseung’s face loomed into view. Pinched brows, eyes wide, shining with worry. Doe eyes, my brain supplied helpfully. “You alright? Are you hurt?” He asked quickly. I shook my head. Really, I wasn’t. I was just stunned. I grabbed his bicep, using him to help myself to my feet, and he guided me up carefully. “Here, lean on me.” His arm was at the ready, hovering around my waist like he was already ready to pull me close.

I pushed his hand away. “No, no, it’s ok. I’m fine.” I brushed off my knees, sorted out my clothes, and the second I saw the cords I’d tripped on and the things that had been jolted around and knocked over due to that I was bowing at ninety degrees. “I-I’m very sorry! I’m a guest and I was goofing off when I shouldn’t have been. That was very irresponsible of me. I’m sorry!” I rambled, immensely worried. Some of the equipment that had been jolted around looked expensive, and beyond that I knew how tough some of it was to set up.

Instead of the scolding I expected though, instead of the accepting of my apology or even the mixed response, I received silence. Almost deafeningly so. My ears burned, and I braved a look up. The director was looking at the scene, as were a few workers I was unfamiliar with. Very obviously, they were peeved about the ordeal.

And yet they were silent. Anxiety prickled at me. Was this the calm before the storm? Would I be kicked out? How bad was the damage? Would I need to pay them back? What about-?

Heeseung’s hand landed on my shoulder and I instinctively looked to someone familiar and friendly for comfort. He wasn’t looking at me though, but the workers. He was smiling, face easy-going as always, but…

But there was a strange hardness in his eyes which had been so soft mere seconds ago. A coldness that didn’t match his chill tone.

“Sorry, it was my bad as well. She didn’t mean anything by it. And besides, you should mark the floor better with neon tape, shouldn’t you?” Then, his tone dipping into something I was less familiar with, “She could have gotten seriously hurt, and that wouldn’t have been good for anyone, right?”

Like he’d snapped his fingers or a lightbulb had gone off, the director was waving his hands for the employees to put everything back together. “A-Ah, of course Heeseung-ss- Lee Heeseung-nim! We’ll take the necessary precautions next time!” He bowed his head towards us then, a notion so bewildering given the situation which was so obviously due to my recklessness. “And I’m very sorry for letting you trip, Kim Haneul-nim.” Something in his voice was trembling. Nim? What the-?

“Haneul is fine…” Was all I managed to murmur before Heeseung was dragging me towards the stage.

“Someone get her some ice, would you-?”

“I-I’m fine, Heeseung. Really!” I stammered. He studied me a bit longer, as if trying to see if I was lying. And then, only then, did his whole being ease into the Heeseung I knew.

Why was it that with whatever the hell just happened, I felt like that wasn’t the case?

“If you say so.” He conceded. And then he snapped his fingers as if remembering something. “Oh yeah! Do you like me better with the red hair or the black hair? Or brown hair like when we met? I really think that-“

Things were normal again. We chatted, they fixed the setup, and the shoot began. As I sat to the side, occasionally chiming in response to Heeseung’s little quips and attempts to look cool and suave, my mind was elsewhere.

What had just happened? Why did the whole world shift like I’d moved from a comedy to a thriller so suddenly? Why was it that looking at Heeseung I could see his wide smile and flirty nonsense and feel comforted, and in the next second as he stared down the director with the rope tied around him I only felt like I was staring down a caged monster?

My musings were broken, decidedly left for another time, as Jake arrived and wrapped his arms around my shoulders from behind. He leaned onto me, peering at Heeseung as he finished up with his chin on my shoulder. “Chop chop, Bambi boy, they want you back there!” He goaded.

Heeseung shot him an exasperated look but complied, stepping off the stage and ruffling my hair one last time- albeit much gentler now, like I was made of glass- before disappearing.

Jake grabbed my stool and rotated around to face me, leaning over me with his usual wide, enthused grin. I could practically see his tail wagging if he had one. The sight eased my nerves a little.

Why did my nerves need soothing?

“Isn’t this such a cool concept?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah!” Kind of a suggestive one, but it was certainly cohesive and monochromatic in all the right ways. I could definitely agree. If possible, he seemed to grin more.

“I know, right? Just wait until you see what else we’ll do in the shoot!” He was practically bouncing on his heels about it, enthusiasm infectious. “Hey, do you think I suit the concept? I look super cool, right?” Then he pulled away from leaning over me, adjusting his suit and fixing his already perfect hair, trying to look cool and squinting his eyes slightly.

Amused, I nodded. “Look like a total badass.” Really, he did look cool. Looked like one of those cool students at international schools in dramas that bought million won sunglasses daily or something. Very high dollar. Jake preened, cheeks even flushing a bit, and did that odd half normal-smile, half sticking-out-his-tongue-smile.

“Awesome, awesome…” he muttered something in English. I cocked my head, painfully awful at English, but didn’t say anything about it as he swapped back to Korean. “Here, it’ll only take a second. Tell me what you think, ok?” With that, he bounded up to the stage. It was obvious he was excited, but at the same time I could read a nervous tension in his shoulders.

First came a red and black glove that, personally, had me raising my brows. If I was correct, it was the first pop of color other than the bloody glasses. An interesting artistic design as Jake pushed some bangs from his face and the camera shutter clicked. Soon Jake was done with the glove, and instead of peeling it off himself or waiting for the helpers to readjust him, he was in front of me. “Hey, can you help?” He asked, holding out his hand. “It’s a bit tight…”

I blinked, surprised. “Sure!” I quickly agreed, taking his hand in mine. I grabbed the ends of the fingers, pinched, and shook his hand out a little. Wiggle wiggle, jimmy jimmy, until it was sliding off his hand and my other hand was clenched lightly around the skin of his wrist instead of that weird latex material. “There you go.” I set the glove in his palm.

There was a slight pause and then Jake jerked a little. “Oh yeah, thanks!” He snatched it up and hurried back to the set, face turned away from me as he let makeup adjust his bangs again. Then it was right back to business.

First the mask, Jake tilting this way and that, fiddling with it in between shoots and looping his fingers through the holes. He’d end up getting distracted a lot, usually by my mere presence if I accidentally caught his eye, so at a certain point I had to act like a scolding mother and motion for him to focus. He'd always nod quickly, schooling his face and trying to do so, before returning right back to me and trying to tell me something he’d done that day or ask something when there was a lull in shots.

Second the rope, wherein again it was me who was expected to help him. I froze up, startled even more than before with the glove, as he handed the end of the rope and presented his palm to me. My eyes darted to the director and the costumer department. When they just stared back and didn’t make a move to take him from me or tell him off, I tentatively began to work. “I, uh, what am I supposed to do again?”

“Just wrap it and make it look cool!” He said with shrug. I nodded like I understood when I really didn’t and just began to loop it. Once, twice, keeping the rope parallel each time until I ran out of palm. And then I looped it the other way, keeping things as neat as possible. “It’s not too tight, right?” I asked a few times.

“Nope.” Jake would always breathe in response.

Finally, with a furrowing of my brow as I tried to tuck the rope securely and leave a good length available, I turned to a costume worker near me who’d been hovering. “Is this good?”

“It’s perfect!” It was Jake who responded.

“It’s excellent.” The costume worker echoed Jake’s words immediately with a vigorous nod of the head. I really wasn’t convinced, but with Jake seeming pleased and hopping back over into place, there was little I could do to fix it. A few more poses, click, click, click…

“All done! For now at least. I think they wanna change my contacts or something… I hate contacts…” Jake whined as he shuffled back down towards me. Again the palm was shoved before me, a silent question for help as if he couldn’t do it himself.

“You’ve got fingers, don’t you?” I raised my brow. His pout deepened, utterly pitiful looking now, and I sighed and unwrapped it anyhow.

“Yeah, but I like it when you do it.” He said simply.

“You’re weird.”

“Seconded.” Sunoo piped up, having suddenly appeared at Jake’s side. He was checking over his hair in the mirror, making a couple of test faces before shooting the indignant Jake a side-eye. I couldn’t hold in my snort, smile stretching wide over my face as I shook my head at their antics and handed the rope back to Jake. “My turn. Move.”

“I’m taking your face masks again if you keep the attitude.” Jake trying to appear threatening- or rather chastising I suppose- was such a bewildering sight it had me laughing harder, this time at Jake. Sunoo caught my eye and made a face as if to dismiss his hyung.

“You can try.”

“Aish…” Jake clicked his tongue and left, though not with a playfully stern glare at the younger. As soon as he was gone, the sass lifted and Sunoo was beaming at me, mirror forgotten on some table or another. Immediately he looped his arm through mine, maneuvering me towards the stage.

And then onto the stage, like a man on a mission. I balked at the idea of standing on stage, eyes darting around like I expected to be scolded. But again, there was no protest from the crew. Sunoo pulled me over, settled me in front of the camera, and stood at my side. “Let’s take some photos together! I’ve been looking forward to this since you showed up.” He said, enthused.

I felt severely underdressed. Sunoo was elegant, prim and proper, and I was… in a pink sweatshirt. But he seemed excited about it, almost like we were in a photo booth at an arcade and not a multi-thousand dollar photoshoot, and so I forced a smile through my nerves and nodded. He cheered, pressing our shoulders together, and the joint shoot began.

Finger guns aimed at each other, the two of us pulling each other in a circle by the hands, hearts over our heads… all of it was cute. And fun, honestly, if I ignored the bored, slightly accusatory looks aimed at me. Then Sunoo left my side, urging me to get my own photos, and I drew the line. “Woah, I don’t want to eat up all of your time. You have stuff to do and so do they!” I waved my hands, drawing him back in with a hand around his wrist. Instantly Sunoo was pouting at me.

“But you look so cute today! It would be a waste not to-“

“Sunoo…”

“Haneul…” There was a small standoff, the two of us pouting at each other like children, trying to get the other to budge, until Sunoo sighed and cut his losses. He moped over to his section, and I to mine, and with how evidently put-out he was I shot him a finger heart to try and cheer him up.

Luckily it succeeded.

Sunoo proceeded cheerfully from there. Everything about him was elegant one moment, his face sliding into something neutral and undoubtedly beautiful before turning right back to something all bubbly and happy as he asked if he should turn this way or that way or maybe this way?

Always it was whatever I said looked good, to my mild amusement and bewilderment.

I helped him, similarly to Jake, pull on the long gloves they handed him. “Ah, I wish I had your waist…” I muttered as I helped him, unable to look away from the way his shirt fitted his frame.

“Oh really?” He brightened, ears flushing. “Ah, thank you!” I should have expected he would be pleased by such a compliment. Sunoo was hardly shallow, but he certainly took pride in his appearance. “But I wish I had your eyes.”

At that, I snorted. I had monolids, hardly what was considered preferable. “Uh huh, sure.” I finished up sliding the glove up to his elbow and moved to step away. But Sunoo gently grabbed my wrist, shaking his head at me like I’d said something silly.

“My eyes are beautiful, your eyes are beautiful… I just want to have your eyes on me all the time, that’s all.” He murmured. It took me a moment to process what he was saying, and when I did I was hit with both confused and was flustered at the same time. He seemed… earnest. What did he-? I couldn’t read him. Or at least I couldn’t draw a conclusion on what lurked behind his words.

“Oh.” I just said simply, unsure of what else to say.

His grip on my wrist lessened then, I was released, and he sauntered back to finish what he’d been doing. The whole time I stared at him, trying to break down the strangely earnest words he’d hit me with so suddenly. Then, as he finished up and headed back towards the makeup section, trying to urge me to follow, I shook my head and stayed put.

“Riki should be coming back soon, right? I told him I’d be here for the second section of shooting too.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll be back soon!” He singsonged, leaving me with a tad too much reluctance. I huffed, shaking my head in disbelief at the amount of pouting he utilized, and settled into my little stool to wait for Riki.

A hand tapped my shoulder. I startled, turning with the expectation of seeing Riki’s grin aimed back at me, only to see a worker I wasn’t familiar with. I straightened my spine, blinking at him. “Oh, hello! Do you need me to move?” I asked with a polite bow of my head.

“Sort of. Could we talk somewhere private?” Again I wa surprised, but I was quick to stand and agree.

“Um, off in the hallway outside the studio?” I suggested. He nodded. He seemed oddly antsy, but I didn’t get a bad vibe from him, and so I figured there was a comment about something to do with how slowly the shoot was progressing that he wanted to discuss with me. Really, I thought as I followed him over, that was something I expected.

We reached the hallway and shifted off to the side, just out of the way in case someone needed to pass by. “What is it? If I need to leave I can totally-“

He pulled an envelope from his vest, handing it over to me abruptly. I paused, staring at the item in confusion.

“What?” I reached out tentatively, taking it from him. Like I saw before, he seemed oddly… anxious. Curiously, I peeled open the envelope as he shuffled around before me, his head on a swivel. Was this money? Won after won after won after-

“If you leave the boys alone, all the money in that envelope is yours.”

(Wanted to post this ASAP even if I’m not home yet lol, enjoy! ALSO please let me know if you feel any member has been neglected. I’ve tried my best not to do so but yeah)

[s0s1mple]

next part of Blossom is cooking I promise lol

(tidbit for the starved followers since I was like, dead for half a week or more) ------

...Instantly, I was jolting in surprise as Sunoo let out a gasp and whipped his head around to look at me. “Haneul! You’re here!” The makeup artist darted back, trying to avoid drawing a line of contour down his face as he jolted away and out of the chair. “I didn’t know you’d be coming! I missed you!” His smile was so wide, eyes crinkled- was he wearing blue contacts?- warmth and happiness radiating so entirely from him that it had me wondering how I could even bear to stay away in the first place. I was startled further when he pushed himself into me, his arms wrapping tightly around my torso. My face was pressed into his shoulder from the tightness of the hug, the male rocking lightly from side to side as if he could hardly contain his excitement. I pat him on the back, hugging right back, face burning a little from how enthused he was.

“I’m here! I wanted to surprise you guys…” I mumbled. Sunoo pulled back a little, face only inches from mine, to stare at me. It had my cheeks flaming further. 

“You did? Ah, you’re too sweet to us!” He giggled. Only then did he release me, this time to pinch lightly at my cheek and wheel me around to face the rest of them. “Guys, look who’s-!”

“Haneul!” I hardly had a moment detached from one boy before I was pulled into another’s grasp. Jake had barreled into me, wrapping himself around me, his momentum carrying him a little past me. To adjust for the momentum, he lifted, and I soon found myself twirling around in circles in the air. I balanced my hands on his shoulders, surprised, but just as soon as it started my feet were back on the ground and Jake was grinning ear to ear at me. “You’re back!” He was doing that vibrating thing that I’d learned meant he was really, really happy, and I chuckled out a breathy laugh...

------

[s0s1mple]

Girll where did you go?

I had commissions and a game development project I should be able to post things for the 4th weekend tho since I’m off sry :((((

[s0s1mple]

hey! do you write for squid game?

no, unfortunately :((

[s0s1mple]

the latest chapter of blossom was so good

sunghoon showing up like that? insane but im loving it

AHHHH thank you!!!

[s0s1mple]

yes yes im a sunoo bias myself and I actually never asked in Tumblr before lol

i was wondering if you could do a yandere stalker sunoo like in a school situation? Cus I can't be the only one that thinks that sunoo fits an obsessive psycho personality 😝

No no he ABSOLUTELY fits that sort of vibe. Like, so cute and friendly, then absolutely batshit behind the scenes hehe. I got you! (Also I'm SO SORRY this took so long, I had this header made for ages and then got caught up with work. Sorry!!)

Closer - Kim Sunoo

TW: General yandere behavior, stalking, delusion, unwanted kisses, stealing (senior year, both are 18)

Masterlist

Sunoo thought you were radiant. Absolutely radiant, like sunshine personified. Some people might think him odd for having such an opinion, especially since you were quiet and tended to keep to yourself, but Sunoo would fight them tooth and nail until they understood exactly how warm and wonderful you were.

How it was you who greeted Sunoo first when he arrived at your school all those years ago. Others had flocked to him of course, as they always did. Drawn in by his smile and his extraverted nature, plucking at his cheeks and cooing, telling him just how polite and wonderful his voice sounded. He'd had such things told to him his entire life and, while he always appreciated the love of others, he also had grown accustomed to it. Everywhere he went, the same thing.

You're my age? Oh, I thought you were younger with how cute you are!

You can dance too? And sing? What can't you do, Sunoo?

You're so friendly! I can always depend on you!

Sunoo had those who didn't like him of course, mostly other boys who thought him too soft around the edges or that his interests were unbecoming, but Sunoo knew well enough not to be bothered by such things. He knew who he was, and he didn't need others to tell him.

But you didn't tell him who he was. Who he should be. Who he was expected to be.

No, you just sat with him quietly as he walked over to take a breather from gym class. You were fiddling with the hem of your shirt, pursing your lips at the sight of a thread out of place. Sunoo peeked over, humming, and spoke up. "I can fix it, if you want."

"Hm?" You looked up, surprised at someone talking to you. "Fix it?"

"Yeah. My mom taught me how to sew, so..." He trailed off, smiling welcomingly at you. It was painted all over your face just how introverted you were, your eyes darting around nervously and your fingers fiddling even more. You dipped your head.

"That's sweet. I can figure it out, though..." He noticed something interesting about your language then. 'That's sweet.'

Not 'you're so sweet' or 'that's nice of you' said in that enthused, too-happy to gush over him way. Just an observation that the action he took was nice, not attributing it to him immediately.

Maybe it was stupid to read so much into such a small statement and its phrasing, but Sunoo's observation was proven accurate as he tried to talk more to you.

"I went to the carnival this weekend! They asked me to perform for the kids there, so it was pretty fun."

"Oh, you did? Sounds fun. Must have taken a lot of work to get that good."

Not 'you're so talented,' not 'I wish I was as talented as you,' or even 'Wahh... I'm sure the kids loved it, Sunoo!'

Truth be told, he had put a lot of effort into it.

You didn't make assumptions, just listened and complimented and then shrunk back into yourself like you weren't the first person in his whole life to create a preconceived notion the millisecond you met him.

He didn't get much chance to talk to you that day, nor the next, nor for a long time after. You two had gym together, sure, but aside from that your schedules were completely different for a long time. There was no time to rush up and talk to you, especially since you seemed too skittish and he felt he might need a reason.

All the same, Sunoo still saw you. Still appreciated you, more and more as he saw the parts of you others didn't. The way you smiled softly to yourself when you were proud of something you'd made or a grade you'd gotten. The little squeal you let out when your college of choice answered back and accepted you. The way your nose scrunched when people were too loud, the way you hummed to yourself when you settled down to study in the library, the way your hair blew around your face when you walked home, the way you greeted your mother with a hug every time you saw her, the way you fed the same stray cat every time you went to the park, even when it was raining, the way-

Sunoo could go on and on about you. About your cuteness, your warmth, the moments where the breath was knocked out of him by how beautiful you were. And he did! Just... not verbally.

Sunoo had never been a shy person. Not really, anyways. Quiet sometimes, sure, humble other times, but not shy. But with you? He felt like a floaty mess. And on top of that, he was scared of scaring you off. You were so shy comparatively, and he feared he would break down if you rejected his presence. So instead, he found a different outlet for his admiration.

Sunoo scrap booked.

Every little new thing he noticed about you he wrote down. Every picture he took of you looking your best- which was everyday!- he pasted down into his journal. He swiped the pencils you left behind and doodled pictures of you inside with them. Washi tape and pressed flowers, markers and stickers, anything and everything to try and decorate pages of YOU and express just how much he loved you.

He didn't think that all those things could ever show his desire, but it was at least a hint. Something to compliment your features as he longingly stroked a finger down your polaroid face and giggled to himself in the dead of night.

He did all this, and it did curb his need to approach you, to bask in your light, but at the same time he was... getting antsy.

Sunoo needed you like he needed air. Needed to be closer. First it was peeking through your windows, trying to see how you lived and catch sight of your cute face while you snored. Then it was invading your home, poking around and pretending like you'd invited him there. Him! Then he took things, things that he could pretend you gave him and things that reminded him of you. Oversized shirts he could use as pillowcases, the little figurine at the back of your shelf that you wouldn't miss, your favorite toothbrush...

Sunoo sat up abruptly, startled by the sound of steps coming up the staircase. He floundered for a moment, leaping off the bed and looking for somewhere to go. He couldn't escape back out the window, not in time at least. And there was no desk where he could hide, or a closet big enough, and the door was opening and-

"Shh, shh! H-Hey! It's ok!" Sunoo pressed you against the door, hand pressed over your mouth, tense and frantic. Almost instantly you were completely frozen in fear, wide eyes peering up at him, and the first thought through Sunoo's head was that he wanted a picture of that face to line his next page with. "It's just me. It's Sunoo, ok?"

You hardly breathed, but he could see your eyes tearing up. Panic, self-loathing, and sympathy rushed over him all at once. He shushed you over and over, gently pulling you from the door into his arms. Your hands hovered, wanting to shove him away but too frightened of what he might do in return.

Little did you know that Sunoo wouldn't dream of hurting a pretty hair on your little head.

"I'm sorry, I- I didn't want us to meet again like this-" He stammered, petting your hair as he pressed over your mouth with his other. He pressed his forehead to yours. The mere contact warmed his bones, settled deep in his chest, and despite his worry and fear he felt a smile spreading over his face. You were here, right here in his arms, and god did it feel good. "I just- I've really liked you for a while now and I wanted to see you..."

Sunoo leaned in, feeling your breath stutter against his hand, and pressed his cheek to yours. Soft, sweet, like a lover's nuzzle. He giggled as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. Then to your forehead. Then your nose, your chin, the spot below your jaw. Peppering everywhere, trying to use you as an outlet for his love. Sunoo sighed happily as, after a moment of hesitation, he pressed his lips to yours. Then he leaned right back, practically vibrating with excitement.

"I just wanted to be closer."

[s0s1mple]

BLOSSOM — Yan!Idol!Enha x Reader

Part 9 — Salve

TW: Unhealthy fixation/dependance, possessive behavior, mental stress, self-confidence issues, threatening behavior, blackmail (reader is gendered and named)

Masterlist — Part 1 -- Next Part

“Who is she?” Management sat across from them at the table, a whole team staring them down. Almost like an intimidation tactic of some sort. If Enhypen were younger, if this was done when they were less experienced, they might have been worried. Might have bowed their heads, apologized, and promised to end contact when they told them to.

But they were Enhypen. Global superstars, the biggest source of funding for Belift Labs, experienced idols, and they knew their importance now.

Even more importantly, the boys knew Haneul’s importance, and they were making it exceedingly clear to management that she would be going absolutely nowhere.

“A friend.” Sunoo rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair like this was a waste of time. Because really, in his opinion, it was. The idea that they were going to stop his friendship with her? That they were going to take away his favorite gossip buddy, his favorite confidant, his sunshine? No, that was laughable. She’d seeped into his brain and heart and rooted herself there until the idea of her not being there with him, talking to him, indulging him and giggling with him, was inconceivable.

Sunoo was her friend. She was Sunoo’s friend. And the only way that would change is if it changed into something more.

And god, Sunoo hoped it would.

“A friend. Kim Haneul, huh? Are you taking advantage of a fan? Again?” It was said suddenly, rudely, and the entire group bristled. Heeseung and Jake especially, the two glaring harshly at the head of management, Byungho. They’d already sorted this issue out, after all. Idols having one night stands with fans was hardly unheard of, and they’d gone through all the proper avenues whenever wanting to have some fun. NDA’s, assuring consent, all the stops. To have it phrased like that had Heeseung staring daggers at the men across the table, face eerily even.

“She’s not a fan. She’d never even heard of us.” Jake grunted, voice heated. Polite still, but just barely.

“Uh huh.” The disbelief was obvious. Sunoo scoffed, but it was Riki who spoke up. Whereas Sunoo was mocking and Jake polite yet irritated, Riki was outright hostile. 

“I was the one who bothered her, not the other way around. Stop acting like she’s a fucking problem. What, we’re not allowed to have friends? Last time I checked that wasn’t in the contract.” He sneered, eyes narrow. He was angled forwards in his seat, entire posture radiating displeasure, his arms crossed across his chest. 

“Watch your tone.” 

“Or what, huh?” Riki snapped back. Sunoo knew well enough that with his tone dropping like that, dropping way into the lower register of his voice, their maknae was on the verge of saying or doing something that fully crossed the line they were already toeing. It wasn’t a surprise, really. Riki had known Haneul the longest, had grown attached first. He was the one who called her every day, who looked up gifts for her and swiped Jay’s credit card to pay for it, only to get too shy and just buy her candy instead. Who postured and pretended to be suave and cool, all because he wanted to be viewed as an option for his crush. Only to realize she didn’t care for all that, that she preferred the boy beneath the idol persona he was used to putting on, and to fall even harder.

“Riki.” Jungwon broke into the conversation. Not in a reprimanding voice, but a controlled and even one. Let me handle this, it said, I’ll make this right. Riki huffed, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets, and leaned back in his chair in a too-relaxed posture. His gaze flicked around, utterly venomous. “We understand that sneaking her onto set and hiding her from you wasn’t right, that we should have maybe been more open. But tell me truthfully that you wouldn’t have tried to nip our friendship in the bud the instant we told you, like you are now.”

“Truthfully? We would have vetted her, done background checks, and the like. Seen if we could have paid her off to leave,” Byungho was blunt. They all knew the rules, the avenues. There was no need to sugar coat things. It didn’t make it feel any better, though, especially when a certain thought was brought up. If Haneul had been paid enough, would she have left them? Blocked them, left her job, went entirely without contact? Part of them had to wonder, to feel their insides ache with betrayal and anger at the idea. It was always a possibility, after all. She worked so hard for so little, so why wouldn’t she take that option? But the other part of them preened because it just knew that Haneul wouldn’t do such a thing. She liked being around them, entertained their antics, brought something to their life that they hadn’t had in so long.

Normalcy.

“But remove her instantly? Not necessarily.” 

“Really?” Heeseung asked blandly, brow raised. His head was propped up at the end of the table, the male leaning his chin into his palm as he considered them all. Management’s eyes cut to him quickly, assessing. He hadn’t spoken much since they got into the room, something strange in a situation akin to this one. Heeseung wasn’t the leader, sure, but as the eldest he always had an opinion.

“Really.” Byungho answered. Sunoo rolled his eyes all over again, casting a sideways glance at Jungwon. Jungwon just sighed. What a stupid idea. They all knew that the company would have instantly removed Haneul. All they were trying to do now was save face, to manipulate them and say that ‘if you had just come to us immediately, this wouldn’t be happening- you need to trust us.’ And like hell did they trust their company. “But now, with how you all reacted at the set? I don’t think I can allow you to keep seeing her.”

“Why?” Jay’s voice was calm. Cold. Composed as he stared blankly at Byungho. He’d been statuesque since they entered. Answering in short, clipped words, revealing nothing of the storm Sunoo was sure was humming below the surface. 

Jay was an interesting case when it came to Haneul. He didn’t quite have the same connection to her as the rest of them did, having been more cautious and more formal initially when it came to the girl. But he was closer now, on friendlier terms. If Sunoo had to guess, most of his anger was not from Haneul being torn from him, but being torn from their group as a whole. About the injustice of it all. He didn’t doubt Jay saw how much the group loved her, same as Jungwon had, the two of them always on similar wavelengths when it came to the mood of the team. With how protective Jay was, how much effort he took to keep them all happy, it was only natural he’d view an attack on Haneul as an attack on them all.

Sunoo’s attention was yanked back to the table as Byungho responded. “Well for one, your reaction when she was rightfully being removed from the premises. It was way out of proportion. If you can’t even control yourselves with-”

“They were yanking her around! What, like someone like her was going to do any harm?” Riki spoke up again, incredulous, and it was Sunoo this time who gripped his shoulder in a silent bid to calm down. 

Even if he agreed with the younger member, it was best to work things through diplomatically. Or at least with the illusion of diplomacy.

“She was being removed as anyone else would be,” Byungho replied smoothly, tone dropping into that condescending one that they all hated. Like they were still those easily controllable teenagers they’d once been. Sunoo heard Sunghoon’s deep breath. He didn’t even have to look to know Sunghoon was stony-faced as usual, arms crossed, shoulders set. But he was certain if he leaned around Riki and touched him, he would feel the elder male’s muscles trembling with frustration. “And to go back to what I was saying, your reactions were out of proportion to the situation. With how much you’ve been hiding this Haneul from me, how much you’ve been communicating with her-”

“You looked through our fucking phones-?” Jake burst out.

“I think you all are getting too close to her. It’s going to distract you from your work, and with a comeback on the way you can’t afford to do that. Or do I have to remind you how much is invested in this comeback?” Byungho leaned back, clicking his pen. The noise was the only sound in the room for a long moment. Jungwon made eye-contact with Heeseung, then the eldest stood up. Leisurely, assuredly. 

“With how much you have invested in this comeback, it would be really bad for you if it didn’t happen, right?” He said softly. Another stretch of silence.

“Excuse me?” Byungho asked, tone tight.

“You control our diets, our schedules, our clothing, our appearance, our everything. We ask for one thing- one thing!- in return, and you decide you want to take her from us? Mmm, I don’t think so.” Heeseung shook his head, grooming his cherry-red locks away from his face. He was chuckling breathily, like the idea was utterly ridiculous. “You tell us to worry about our comeback, when really I think it’s you who needs to worry. We don’t have an investment in it, now do we?”

“There are all sorts of movements overseas, you know. About boycotting, about how idols get mistreated, about all sorts of things. If we refuse our schedules, refuse to make this comeback happen, do you really think it's us who will be blamed?” Jungwon finally piped in, standing up just as Heeseung had. He leaned forward slightly, hands braced on the table. Not aggressively, even if it was obvious he wanted to be, but certainly assertively. “You will lose money. You will lose fans. You will lose customers.” 

Byungho seemed baffled, mouth opening and closing. The room was pindrop silent. No more murmurs between management like this was some normal, casual meeting. The tables had turned straight into the idols’ favor and the energy of the room expressed that. “You have a contract,” He finally settled on saying. “If you break it-”

“We’ll be held liable in court.” Jungwon said dryly. “We’re well aware. But you’re also well aware that you’d have to take us to court, right? That it would cost more money to do so? So that’s the cost of our comeback with no product, plus the cost of the courts, plus all the media you would have to pay off to maintain a good image… and all of that just to face Jay-hyung’s money in court…”

Byungho’s eyes flickered to the stoney-faced male. Jay was lax, clicking his pen rhythmically, staring directly at him. He cocked his head but said nothing, instead checking his too-expensive watch with mock-laziness. Jay was a humble person. A hard-worker. Enough to where it was easy to forget on occasion just how wealthy the male was. But here Byungho was facing that reality, and he paled slightly as he realized just how out of his depth he was becoming.

“Do you think you’ll recover without asking for more money from Hybe? Or are you fine with being completely bought out of your ownership of your own company?” Sunghoon finally spoke, voice soft. Even.

Sunoo swore he could hear his own pulse in the ensuing silence.

“You’re drawing a line in the sand here. You know that, right?” Another member of management piped up when he realized Byungho was floundering for something to say. All seven pairs of eyes flicked right onto him, intense enough to warrant the male shrinking back slightly.

“All of this for some girl. And supposedly a friend, too. Are you kidding yourselves, or are you lying to me?” Byungho finally settled on saying. You’re too invested in this, to go so far for someone you only recently met. You’re too invested in someone who doesn’t seem to understand how you feel about her. Do you even understand how you feel about her?

“We’re friends.” Jungwon said firmly. Sunoo was certain he didn’t care to discuss the matter with those across the table from them. Personally, Sunoo would rather have their management never speak her name again with how they were acting. 

“So what, you threaten your company first? What’s next? Each other?” Now that? That got a longer pause. It was the first time it had been brought out into the open, the reality of all seven of their feelings towards Haneul. All seven of them held something special for Haneul, for the girl who unexpectedly slid into their lives like she’d belonged there all along, and they were all privately aware of that fact. There was jealousy- of course there was -for who received the most attention one day or who received the most selcas. But at the same time… time had passed since they all realized that fact. That each of them wanted some unnamed thing with her.

Enhypen was a team. That would never change, not over anyone. If anything, she brought them closer. Pulled them together to socialize, made them laugh and joke with each other, helped them let loose and explore new interests together… 

And of course, Haneul’s smile was brightest when with them all. 

“Worry about yourself.” Heeseung grinned back at Byungho. “We can handle ourselves.” It was a non-answer, but it answered plenty. A dismissal of the mere idea. And just like that the matter was brought to light and solved all in one go by their eldest’s confirmation. Haneul wasn’t some bone to be fought over, some rope to be tugged at both ends. No, they were brothers and they would remain as such. They wouldn’t let something tug them apart.

They wouldn’t let a fracturing bond tear you apart from them.

After a moment, Sunoo spoke up again. He stood, smoothing out his pants, and pushed his chair in with an easy smile. “If that’s all, I’ll be leaving. I have to go over some choreo. When is our photoshoot again?” He asked with a tilt of his head. His voice was deceptively sweet, an echo of his normal self, and Sunoo would be a liar if he said he didn’t privately take some pleasure in the uneasy looks of those sitting across from him.

“In three days, I think?” Jake answered, following his lead.

“Ah, alright then. Make sure to set up an extra chair for Haneul, will you?” Sunoo waved goodbye, bowing politely, and left the room. It wasn’t long before the others followed, nothing much needing to be said otherwise.

They’d gotten what they wanted, and that was to keep Haneul. To keep his sunshine.

Sunoo’s mimicry of a smile stretched, turning to something genuine, something that tugged at his chest and lifted his entire being out of the bad mood he’d just been in. Two days… then he’d surely see her again. Out in the open, unafraid.

Hopefully he would never have to see her that anxious, worried, that afraid ever again. 

Not when she was with them.

One consequence that they hadn’t foreseen in the aftermath of that day on set was her pulling away. It wasn’t fully, not like she wanted to escape or ignore them, but that she was nervous. Skittish. Anxious. Something that she should never have to experience around them. It was just another strike against their company’s choices, in the grand scheme of things. 

The day happened. Haneul was taken away after she’d calmed down a bit, driven home by a taxi because despite the boy’s pleas to drive her home, she’d offered a shaky smile and said she needed some time alone. So they’d let her go, only really because she requested it and because they needed to deal with the staff and their management as soon as possible. As soon as possible just so happened to come in the form of the next day, regrettably, which left little room for them to visit and check in on her at her job.

Instead, they fired off text after text. Are you ok? Do you need something? Silly emojis, pictures of pets, anything to boost her mood because it was exceedingly obvious just how affected she was. Haneul’s texts were similar in frequency, sure, but they were shorter. Less involved, less enthused, like she was afraid to talk all of a sudden. Riki had tried to get on a call with the girl as soon as the matter with management had been dealt with, but she’d responded after a long while with a text explaining that she was too tired.

Haneul was never too tired for a phone call.

So forgive Riki if he was worried. Forgive him if he left the dorm in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep, if he ignored their words to give her some space, if he walked all the way to her convenience store. Riki needed to see her, and he was more than certain Haneul needed to see him too. She had to, after all. They were best friends now. They shared everything, comforted each other, were there for each other. And since she needed support, it was his duty to give it, wasn’t it? It could even be a surprise. 

She was going to be working the late shift. He was certain of it. He’d memorized her schedule, after all. So he walked up and walked through the door, clad in his usual ensemble of black hoodie and mask. And then there she was, standing there like a zombie. Haneul looked exhausted, to put it simply. Like she hadn’t slept well. Riki’s heart ached at the notion even as it sung at the sight of her. Three whole days without calling? He missed her and her voice. He didn’t waste any time shopping around or playing coy, instead just waltzing right up to the counter as he slid his mask off. He grabbed a sweet potato, setting it before her and snapping her out of her daze.

Haneul startled, looking up at him with those wide, sweet eyes, and it had to be one of his favorite sights in the whole world.

“Riki.” She breathed. He nodded, privately buzzing at hearing his name off her lips again. He didn’t think he’d ever get over it, personally. In fact, he was so distracted, he only realized after a second too long that he was staring. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Are you ok?” They both spoke at the same time. It was Riki who stammered next, leaning over the counter on his elbows until he was closer to eye level. “Sorry, you first.” He chuckled slightly.

Haneul managed a smile back, and Riki’s worried yet content mood upon seeing her slipped right back into worried. It was a small thing, not at all genuine. “Sorry.” She muttered. Then she cleared her throat, checking the time, and furrowed her brows. “It’s late. Didn’t you say you have a photo shoot tomorrow?”

“No, it’s the day after.” Riki clarified. He shuffled a bit. For once, he felt awkward. Unsure of how to proceed with how… down she seemed. “I just wanted to go on a walk and- uh-“ A pause. He switched tactics and just told the truth. “I was worried about you. Things… have felt different since the other day.” His tone lowered to a murmur, almost a whisper, lips pursing thin as he studied the girl over.

Haneul blinked at him, slow and tired, and raked a hand through her hair. “I’m not sad or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. Or mad. Or… upset, or whatever.” She finally said. Riki tilted his head, a silent question on what on earth it could be instead. It was a slight relief, of course, to hear such a thing. If she was mad at him? Or anything else? He wasn’t totally sure how to handle it. He’d want to cuddle her, to hold her close and make her laugh until it was forgotten about, but…

But they weren’t at that point yet.  And god, that hurt so bad. So, so badly. So badly that somewhere deep down, Riki knew he was clinging too hard and getting in too deep. 

“It was just a lot, I think. I forget sometimes that you guys have so many more responsibilities sometimes, which is kind of dumb, I know-“

“It’s not dumb.” Riki said quickly, hands flexing against the counter. He’d wanted to grab her hands at that moment and had barely held himself back. In fact, had they ever properly held hands? He didn’t think so. How would they feel in his? Small, warm, soft-? He broke away from the thought and anchored his eyes back to hers. “We’re just people too, you know.”

“And so are actors, and politicians, and everyone else. I know that. But… I still feel guilty all the same. I mean, I know you guys said it was all sorted, that everything was fine now, but I just- I don’t want to be a burden. Especially not to people with so many people counting on them.”

“A burden?” Riki was taken aback for a moment. Of all things he expected, that was not it. It almost made him laugh if it didn’t make him also want to seriously smack someone. Someone, somewhere, at some point, had instilled this sort of mentality into her. They’d seen glimpses of it before, that self-sacrificing behavior, the slight anxiety spikes and the refusal to skip work even on sick days. It wasn’t the money, though of course that mattered, but just… a part of her. But to know she was still broken up about this when everything was fixed, that she suddenly felt lesser? “Is this about the phones? Noona that- that doesn’t matter. We can buy ten phones a piece if we wanted to. It was nothing.” It’s all he can think of to say, trying to smile comfortingly.

“It’s not that. I don’t know- I- I really like you guys. Like, I really, really like you guys and,” she took a deep breath, seemingly trying to articulate something. “And I don’t want to ruin things. But I feel like somehow I will, and I don’t want to be the cause of something bad. And so if I make you guys feel awful or upset, that’s on me, you know?”

“No, noona-“

“Look, I know it sounds stupid. Like I said, I do. I know in my head that I’m being irrational and anxious and all this other stuff, looking a gift horse in the mouth and everything, but I still feel it. I think… I need a moment to process things and sort myself out.” Then, a terse and slightly sad smile. Haneul pursed her lips, hand raising hesitantly, before she scooted it towards his.

Riki’s breath caught. Oh, so she’d noticed his floating hands earlier.

Her hand slipped over his, gentle as a feather, and rested there for just a moment. A soothing touch. The itch to hold her was so, so goddamn strong. Was it wrong to crave her so much in that moment, to want to hold her for his own wants while she was so frail? 

Yeah, probably.

“I’ll be back to normal soon, I promise. Ok? Just, in the meantime don’t coddle me too much, ok? Just text like normal, and I’ll get back to normal.” Her voice sounded firm, but it was soft and a little shaky. “I’ve got struggles that I need to get through on my own. I’ve always had them, its just something about how that whole thing went down triggered them, I think.”

A pause, her hand slipping away, and in a sudden burst of adrenaline Riki twisted his hand to catch hers. She blinked in surprise, and he gentled his touch like he was handling something frail. “I- how long is soon? Not to be normal, but- until- I don’t know-“

“Until we hang out again?” She asked, saving him from his floundering thoughts. A soft smile tugged at her lips and Riki relaxed just a tad, seeing the Haneul he was used to underneath all that tiredness. “I’m not sure. Give it time, let me sort things out, and then we’ll be back to normal before you know it.” Riki waited, then nodded, then gingerly released her hand. He shuffled around a bit.

“I-“ his throat felt tight as he peered at her. God, why did it hurt so much to be pushed away like this, even slightly? Even when it wasn’t really him being pushed away, but held at arms length temporarily. Was it worse? Why did it feel worse? Why was everything so jumbled and messy and amazing and horrible when it came to Haneul? “I’m sorry. If we pushed too hard, I mean.” He finally managed.

“Don’t be sorry. It was really cool seeing the set.” Even now, when she was just so vulnerable, it was her comforting him. Providing sanctuary, just like when they first met. “Did you know Jiyeon and I are still talking? We talked things over and I apologized for not telling the truth. Apparently she wants to go out to shop with me soon.”

And even when everything was dark in her mind, she was fighting for a way out. 

Riki blinked, some sort of pressure behind his eyes, and reached into his pocket. “That’s really nice. I’m glad you had a fun time. I just- I just want you to have fun with us. To want to be around us.”

To want us.

He pulled out some cash, pressed it down onto the table, and slid the sweet potato over with a crooked smile. “Don’t go to sleep hungry, noona. I’ll see you soon. You… you should come to our photo shoot. If you’re up for it, I mean. There’s some really cool photography things- uh, techniques- that they’re supposed to be doing. And we’ve got like three more photo shoots coming up after that, so if you can’t make the first-“

“We’re closing soon, Riki.” Haneul said softly. It was enough to make his mouth click shut. Space. Yeah, space. He could do that. He totally could do that without worrying about Haneul hating him or never coming back or-

“See you, noona. Stay safe.” He managed as he shoved his hat back on and pulled up his mask. He didn’t want to leave her, especially not like this. But at the same time, he wanted to take off and pretend there was absolutely no strain there, even if it was small and would blow over with time like she said. Like always, Haneul seemed to understand him.

“Thanks for the potato. That was really sweet of you.” She said, unwrapping it. She took a bite, and finally Riki managed to breathe for a moment. He nodded and turned on his heel, forcing his legs to move away.

Just temporary. Just temporary. Just temporary. Just-

A knock on the door. I wrapped up cleaning my plate, calling over my shoulder that I’d be right there, and dried my hands. Over to the door, peeking through the peep hole, only to see a figure whose eyes were blocked with a ball cap and a mask over their lower face. I frowned. “Enhypen?” I called out tentatively. A nod in return. 

My first thought was Riki. He’d been… odd after their meeting. Obviously trying to stay normal like I had mentioned needing, and for that I was thankful, but in the process he was also overcompensating. Overly excitable, overly suave, overly everything. It felt artificial, and I got the impression with how insistent he seemed to be about how cool the photoshoot I missed turned out- and how the upcoming photoshoot would probably be even better!- that he wanted to see me desperately.

Like somehow my anxiety had transferred to him and he was feeling it infinitely worse.

To my credit, I managed to not make myself feel guilty over the matter. I’d said my piece, and I knew Riki understood me. He just missed me, it seemed, especially judging by the others saying that he was sulking around and asking if they could all drop by the convenience store as soon as I was fine again.

So yeah, he just missed me. It felt nice to be missed, especially because I did in fact have plans to keep up with my friends. Of course, his reaction to my contact-pause and missing me was to a slightly worrying degree, but I digressed. 

Yeah, this was probably Riki.

I sighed, gathering my thoughts, and opened the door. “Riki, I don’t know how you got my apartment number, but I said I’ll-“ I paused as he stepped in and took off his hat and mask.

It was Sunghoon.

“Huh?” I said dumbly. 

“Riki’s upset.” He said simply. We stared at each other. Then he continued. “I’m also upset.”

“About me?” I managed. This all felt a bit odd, to see Sunghoon of all people coming to me about this sort of matter. Whatever… this matter was, that was. With Sunghoon, it was kind of hard to tell. He was guarded. Not cold or closed off, but guarded. “I just needed-“

“Space, I know. I’m not upset about that.” A small tick in his jaw. Maybe he was upset, but I was quick to put it in the same category as Riki’s reaction to missing me. It’s just that Sunghoon was better about hiding it. “I’m upset that you feel like a burden.”

“Oh. He told you?” I asked weakly. My lips pursed.

“He implied it. On accident, really. He didn’t want to say something you didn’t want him to say.” Sunghoon sighed, taking his hands from his pockets. Instead they ended up balanced on his hips. With the look on his face and the stance, the sudden comparison to a disappointed father came to mind. It was probably that funny visual that kept me from spiraling a little. “I’m not going to ask why you think that, because you already know why you think that, and that’s all that matters to you about it.”

I swallowed thickly. “Then why are you here?” 

“To tell you you’re wrong.” He stepped into her space then, right up in front of me to where I had to tilt her head back a little to meet his eyes. My own widened in surprise. Of all people to be this upfront, to come to my house and start this sort of conversation, Sunghoon was the absolute last I would have thought of. 

“So you’re here to tell me you enjoy being around me, and having fun, and everything else? I’m well aware of all that. I know how you guys think of me.” I crack a slight smile, trying to lighten the serious atmosphere, but Sunghoon’s face remains the same. His eyes flit over mine instead, studying closely. I trail off and shift awkwardly before he speaks up again.

“So you do know, then. How much you mean to us?” 

“How much I mean-?”

“Mm, figured.” He tilted his head as he peered at her, and a pregnant pause followed. Then he stepped closer, and closer, until Haneul took a step backwards when the tension got too high. What the hell was he doing? The hands were off his hips now, and instead hung by his sides. A quick glance revealed them clenching and unclenching a few times. Haneul furrowed her brows, confused. “Come to tomorrow’s shoot, Haneul. You belong there. Around cameras and lights and all the other things you like. You should be around things that make you smile. You deserve that.”

“But my work… I can’t…”

“Call off. They can survive without you. We-“ then there was a slight crack in his voice. Not intense, but there, and enough to make him stop about.

“You won’t?” I finished, confused and a little worried. What the hell was going on? It was just a few days, and all of a sudden despite originally feeling like I was the one who was being emotional and overreacting, here I was getting hung after hint after hint that it might actually be the other way around.

Why else would the introverted, quiet, polite Sunghoon be here? Be up close to me, something intense in his eyes.

“Are you ok? Are you all-? Did something happen?” That was the only thing I could think of. That they’d lied and things weren’t as good as they said they were, or that something sudden had happened, and the reason they seemed so desperate to see me was because they were simply seeking comradery. I was familiar with the feeling, but this was really unexpected. My brows pinched in worry. “Sunghoon, what’s wrong?”

“Everything feels strained. It’s because we’re not together. Not really.” He hummed. “We’re better together. We make you happy, and you make us happy. You make us feel better. We just- I just want to do that for you too.” It was the most he’d said in one go in a while, the words carefully said. Vulnerable. “I think things will get better when we’re together again.”

“Sunghoon, I don’t… I don’t want to tie my happiness to other people. You guys make me happy, but I also have to learn to be ok with myself-“

“To be ok with yourself? What is there not to be ok with?” His brows furrowed then, face finally shifting into something confused and determined all at once. Another step in, close again, and I stepped back. So instead of moving closer and chasing me away, he lowered his head, bending down towards me until we were just a bit too close for my heart to beat normally. My mouth went dry. “You’re smart. You’re dependable. You’re loyal and you’re funny and you’re calming. You’re passionate and talented. You’re beautiful. You couldn’t be a burden if you tried.” He breathed out each word slowly, like he really wanted them to stick.

My ears flushed, my cheeks burned, the sound of his voice so earnest catching me off guard. So close, our noses almost brushing. My lips parted and I wanted to say something, anything, but instead I suddenly found myself bawling. I was instantly pressed to his chest, his arms wrapping around me tightly, chin against my scalp. Strong, steady, like a boulder to keep me from drifting away.

Had I needed to hear that? I guess I had. Judging by the amount of snot I was getting on his shirt, I probably really needed to. Needed to have it said firmly, like a declaration and not like a plea. And suddenly, it occurred to me that if all of the members to be able to deliver that sort of message, Sunghoon was the absolute best.

“Thanks.” I finally mumbled into his chest. I felt his hand stroke up my back, soothing and weighty. He hummed in return, the noise vibrating against my ear. It felt like a ton of bricks had been lifted off of me, to get that crying out. Like the anxiety had melted away with it, had been beaten back into the dark recesses of my mind.

Once upon a time, my mother had said the best way to feel better was to cry. I guessed she was right.

I tried to pull back, mumbling something about ruining his shirt and paying for cleaning, but his arms held fast. Caging, thumb brushing against the back of my neck. All of a sudden, it didn’t feel as casual, but more intimate. My cheeks, already red from crying, burned further. Why was he holding me like this? 

Sunghoon knew what she was feeling. He was a confident person, sure, always assured by others that his visuals would carry him far and his elegant movements even further. But at the same time, he’d always worried. Worried about his place in entertainment, in his own group. He wasn’t praised as readily for his vocals as Heeseung or Jay, wasn’t praised for his dance like Riki or Jungwon, wasn’t praised for his presence on variety shows like Jake or Sunoo… he couldn’t help but feel insecure at times. He had his own category, his own charms, and he was well aware of that fact, but still he had his moments throughout the years. Trying so hard to become other people just to satisfy that itch that said pretending to be someone he wasn’t would make him not drag the group down.

So he’d wanted to provide that comfort, to tell her exactly what he thought of her. Not fully, of course, because he couldn’t just walk into her apartment and say everything he felt. About how his heart flooded with warmth upon seeing her, or how his throat caught when she looked at him and smiled, or even how numb he felt when he wasn’t around her these days. About how loved she made him feel when she saw how quiet he was and pulled him in to engage or simply to sit next to and enjoy his peace, or how equally loved he felt when he was in an excitable, louder mood and she joined in with the exact same level as him.

Or how wonderful she felt in his arms. 

To be Haneul’s comfort in this moment, holding her close as she wrapped her arms around him in turn, warmth spreading over his chest from her tears and the feelings swirling inside… It was euphoric. Sunghoon wasn’t a hugger. He didn’t engage in skinship, instead being independent for the most part. But with her? He felt like a teddy bear, all gooey and mushy inside, his arms pulling tighter around her. So small in his grasp, like she needed him to protect her.

Like she needed him.

Something unfurled in his chest, a fire roaring slowly higher and higher as his chin pressed to her head. She smelled warm, like coziness and vanilla. Dimly, he registered as she released him slowly, a silent request for space again, but he felt like he couldn’t move. He held on for a bit longer, eyes fluttering closed, and drifted his thumb over the back of her neck.

How good it would feel to hold her right there, right at the nape, and tilt her face up to his. To press his lips to hers and-

Sunghoon released her, holding her at arms length and hoping his ears weren’t red. He cleared his throat. “I’ve got tons of clothes, plus a washing machine. Your tears aren’t an inconvenience.” He said. She looked so pretty, like there were diamonds in her eyes, shimmering from the tears she just shed. 

A small pause, the two just studying each other. Him trying to decipher her, and her him. Finally, he released her and dipped his head with a slight smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Haneul.”

Tentatively, she smiled back. “Alright. See you, Hoon.”

Hoon. Hoon, Hoon, Hoon. HoonHoonHoonHoonHoon-

Sunghoon left, heart pounding out of his chest, unable to pull her words from his head. Hoon. 

Her Hoon.

His Haneul.

[s0s1mple]

Hi love!!!!!! how r uuuuuu, hows ur day???????

Super good, thanks to you :DDDD ehhehe, just got hired for a job FINALLY so that's good. summer job woo! Also also, hopefully i have some time to write something today? I'm thinking getting one of the req's done that i've had a header done for a while now for, and doing some work on blossom too? :D yeah, anyways. hbu? good i hope!!

[s0s1mple]

pssst, guys, I crossposted to wattpad... say hi. Also there's an old Scream fanfic on there I unfortunately haitus'd and didn't come back to. And a Jay fanfiction I didn't finish either. i privated it for some reason, so now it's unprivate for you guys. (couple years earlier, also yes it has the same name as Blossom protag, i think that's just my go-to name since I don't feel super fun writing Y/N? actually might go back and time and change the name for the sake of it. and update the cover)... sorry about those, but you can def read them! I'll probably crosspost even further to Ao3 soon.

@ItIsntSoEasy on wattpad :)

ALSO ALSO! I just want to thank you guys for all of the support! This has been such a good way to give myself projects to stick by and be proud of and finish, as I've never been good at doing such a thing. You guys have all been so supportive, and thank you to the repeat commenters and supporters, like omg ;_;

[s0s1mple]

BLOSSOM — Yan!Idol!Enha x Reader

Part 8 — Onset

TW: Unhealthy fixation/dependance, possessive behavior, minor panic attack, anxiety (reader is gendered and named)

Masterlist — Part 1 -- Next Part

‘ding dong’ 

‘wdym ding dong’

‘look out ur window :)’

‘u look like a creep’

‘:(‘ I huffed out a quiet laugh, waving at the male outside my apartment complex. Jungwon was standing under the tree just across the street, all suited up in his jacket and mask and hat camouflage. He waved back dorkily though, and I began making my way down. As soon as I reached him outside, his eyes crinkled happily.

“What’re you doing here?” I asked, bumping shoulders with him as I began to walk down the street. Jungwon walked in pace, bumping his shoulder back against mine.

“Wanted to walk you to work, that’s all. Figured you might like some company.” He hummed. My slight smile stretched wider and I cooed a bit under my breath, touched by the sentiment. How sweet of him! 

“Oh really? Thanks. I’m surprised you remembered when my shift started, actually.”

Jungwon shrugged, maneuvering himself as we walked to be on my opposite side. The cars rushed by him on the road, kicking up leaves to swirl around us. “Can’t be a leader if you forget important things, right?”

“Yeah, because my job schedule is so important.” I snickered back. 

“Of course it is. I have to know it so I can see you, don’t I?” He said simply. I paused for a moment, a little taken aback by how earnest he sounded, before Jungwon giggled a bit. “I think the others would throw a fit if they didn’t get their Haneul fix, anyways. You’re integral to our schedule too, really.”

“You’re buttering me up. Don’t over exaggerate.” I scoffed, laughing a bit alongside him. We turned down a small line of shops leading up to my convenience store, and as always my eyes darted about to see what was on sale. I needed new shoes, now that I thought about it…

“Mmm…” he hummed noncommittally. Then he shifted topic. “Speaking of which, when are you free this week?” 

“Huh? Oh. I’m free Saturday this time around.” Immediately the crinkle in Jungwon’s eyes smoothed, and he sighed. “What, are you busy that day?”

“Yeah, we’ve got this movie thing to film…” Jungwon sounded put out by the idea, but my eyes widened and I grabbed his shoulder slightly. He seemed a bit startled by the move, eyes widening as he peered at my hand. I couldn’t quite tell the emotion given his mask, so I dropped my hand shyly. But still I gushed.

“Movie thing? What? That sounds so cool!” I cheered. “Are you guys going to cameo on something? Or is Hybe actually making a movie? I wouldn’t be surprised with how much money they have.” 

Man, to be able to do something like that? I wasn’t interested in being on camera, but the idea of being behind it? Of seeing all the lighting teams and set designers and more running around making magic? That was a dream come true. Once upon a time, when I was younger and more unrealistic about my life, I wanted to be a prop maker. In my small town we hadn’t had much in the way of extracurricularlies, but we did have a good few plays we would put on for harvest and food festivals. The memory of such a thing still stayed with me, of the way the play came to life with the simple backdrops I made and rigged. 

So when Sunghoon or the others sent me photos of that world, it made me irrationally happy. And the notion that they actually went to the next level in production to make mini films? That was crazy to me. Crazy cool.

Jungwon shook his head. “Oh no, nothing like that. We do these mini concept films sometimes, less than ten minutes long, to promote our albums.” I nodded. “Vampire lore stuff.” 

“Vampire lore stuff,” I repeated. “But you still have a director. And cast, and crew, and all of that, right? How fun is it being on set?” I couldn’t keep the intrigued smile off my face, my words a bit more than excited. Jungwon’s gaze cut to mine, and he paused a moment before responding. 

“It’s tiring, to tell the truth, but it’s interesting too. I feel like you’d enjoy it a whole lot more than we would, at least.” He chuckled lightly. Then his eyes widened, and he turned more fully to me as he gently grasped my arm. I could practically see him beaming beneath his mask,  “Wait a minute, would you like to come on set on Saturday? We could hang out there!”

“Huh?” for a moment I didn’t process what he’d said.

“You like films and the process, don’t you? So how about you come and see it first hand?” Immediately my cheeks flushed a bit and I waved my arms around, shaking my head.

“Oh no, no. I’m not gonna interrupt your work-”

“But work is boring, Haneul! You’d be doing us a favor, really.”

“Yeah but the crew would be annoyed at me distracting you-”

“They won’t care, promise! Besides, don’t you trust us to be professional enough to know when to swap from play back to work-mode?” The look I was being given was nothing short of pathetic, Jungwon’s fingers gingerly holding my sleeve, shoulders hunched and tense as he peered at me with wide eyes. Was he really trying to do puppy eyes? He looked more like a cute, sad, kitten instead. I nibbled on my lip, debating, but with him looking so hopeful I could feel myself giving in.

Totally not because I also wanted to see a real set or anything. Yeah, totally not.

“You’re sure they wouldn’t be upset? Have you guys even told management about me? I can’t just go and show up when nobody knows who I am…” the thought of such a thing sent shivers down my spine. I wasn’t an overly anxious person, in fact being pretty confident once I felt comfortable in an environment, but that was the key thing: once I felt comfortable. If I was an intruder, that would most certainly not be the case, and that was my worst nightmare.

Jungwon hummed. “Uh… we didn’t tell him but… how about we smuggle you in?”

“Woah, no way!” I began walking again upon checking my watch and seeing I was cutting it close when it came to work. Jungwon bounded up to easily match pace with my quick strides.

“No, no, listen! There are so many people on set all the time that if you just cover up and we move you in with us through the security gate, people will just assume you work there. Trust me, it’ll be fine.” I shot him a side glance and furrowed my brows.

“Jungwon, that’s risky. You guys could get in trouble.” I couldn’t believe the leader, who had seemed so put together and responsible when it came to group matters up until this point, was trying to essentially get me to break in. 

“They’re not going to do anything to us, don’t worry.” He seemed slightly amused, chuckling. As if the notion of me worrying over such a thing was endearing.

“Jungwon-“

“Haneul-noona…” and there, all of a sudden, was a whiny tone I’ve only heard a few times from Riki of all people. It occurred to me then how childish this all was. Usually in such a case, I would put an end to the nonsense immediately upon realizing that sort of thing, but this time…? It actually made my heart swell with a slight fondness because I understood that Jungwon would hardly be acting in such a way if it didn’t mean a lot to him.

If I didn’t mean a lot to him.

“Ok. Fine.” The conformation tumbled out suddenly, my voice still anxious but betrayed by the fond smile on my lips. Jungwon brightened instantly, hands going right back to my arm as he bounced a little. 

“Really? Awesome! Well text you about it and let you into the building on Saturday! This is gonna be so great.” And just like that, for the remaining two blocks to my work, Jungwon’s arm hooked into mine and he chattered my ear off talking about some of the scenes they would be doing and whatnot. It was probably the most I’d heard Jungwon spiel on about something, and somehow I got the impression it wasn’t because he was excited about the shoot itself.

Oh yeah, because he told me so.

So seeing him so happy now, so enthused, made my heart warm considerably. We stopped outside of the convenience store, and I pulled my arm from his. Jungwon’s arm held in position for a moment, before he dropped it and seemed to relax just a little. Like he was remembering to breathe or something after finally slowing his ramble, I would assume. “Alright then. Just give me the details, and I sort of promise that I won’t chicken out.”

“Better not.” Jungwon chuckled.

“Sort of…”

“Noona…” 

“Fine, I promise.” Jungwon grinned so wide I could see his cheeks puffing up at the edge of his mask, dimples slightly visible. His arms fluttered like he wanted to do something with them, then he simply waved goodbye.

“Good luck on your shift! Text me if you get bored!” I rolled my eyes playfully, saluted the male, and disappeared into the store the millisecond the clock hit time. 

My coworker, so used to me being there five minutes early at the latest, instantly asked if everything was alright. I soothed her worries, bought her a milk for making her worry and wait, and sent her on her way. Then it was right to my place behind the counter, where I’d probably begun to wear a hole into the floor in the exact size and shape of my feet. Screw dental records, they’d be able to ID me through that alone. 

My gaze drifted to the little fox sitting below the counter and I grabbed it and set it off to the side under the gum stand. Sunny stared at me with its cute little beady eyes, and I stared back before sighing.

“Just you and me in the trenches again, huh?”

“Here, here, and here.” Jake shoved a mask, some eyeglasses, and a ball cap into my hands. “Operation is a go once you’re all disguised.” His tone was excited, his smile wide, but he was nodding and behaving like this was some covert military mission at the same time. Frankly, it was dorky and adorable. But I couldn't really appreciate that fact right now considering the nerves gnawing at me like crazy. I put on the eyeglasses- luckily not prescription otherwise I might trip and ruin something- before staring at the ball cap apprehensively.

“Won’t wearing a ball cap inside be suspicious? Besides, that’s more of an American thing isn’t it?” I mumbled, trying to hand it back.

“Good point…” Sunghoon murmured. Jake visibly deflated a little, and Jay stepped up to the plate by leaning in to grab the cap. 

“Here, I’ll do it. You’ll look natural if the purpose of the cap is to keep the hair out of your face. Besides, plenty of the crew wears hats when bringing props inside.” He leaned in and groomed my hair back against my scalp, making me tense a little in surprise as his face loomed before me. His lips were pursed as he focused, and I couldn’t stop my slight smile. Jay noted it and huffed lightly, but his eyes were soft. On came the hat, pulled snuggly and tightly down to keep all my locks in place. He spent some time brushing the stragglers behind my ear before Sunoo cleared his voice and interrupted.

“You should wear glasses more! You look so cute…”

“But I don’t need glasses…” I mimicked Sunoo’s whine and pout, resulting in a giggle alongside a playfully stern look.

“So?” He handed me the mask, and I reached up to grab it, but he was already looping the strings around my ears and pulling it up to my chin. My hands hovered awkwardly for a moment as I was again a little startled by how close and touchy the males were being today as I got ready, but I figured it was probably for the best considering they knew how their own staff looked. Sunoo clasped one of my hovering hands in his, cooing all over again. “We should really get you your own stylist or something. You’d fit right in as an idol! I’d bet people would fight over photocards of you like this…”

“Pfft.” I rolled my eyes, well aware that with my haphazard makeup today- had to look under the radar, after all- that was hardly the case. “Lying is a sin, you know.”

“He’s not lying.” Jay hummed, eyes scanning me up and down. But Jay just adjusted the sleeve of my hoodie appraisingly, normally, before deciding it was good enough. God, what was going on today? My cheeks felt warm, all the eyes on me for once feeling kind of oppressive. Not a bad oppressive, not a suffocating oppressive, but a sort of pressure over me. Like a weighted blanket.

“Cute.” Sunghoon muttered before going right back to adjusting his tie in the van’s front mirror, face even. I flushed a bit more at how earnest he sounded, my brows furrowing in confusion at the nonchalant comment, before Riki piped up and eased my nerves. He threw an arm around me, pulling up my mask so I was covered before miming taking a photo with his fingers. His tongue stuck out in mock concentration.

“I’d buy out thousands of albums just to see that face!” He made a vague motion at my covered face, and I tilted my head with an exasperated sigh even as I was sure my crinkled eyes were showing just how amused I was. 

“I should do an ending fairy like this. My sister says people like that sort of stuff, right?” 

“Oh yeah, for sure.” Riki grinned right back, arm tightening around my shoulders, before Heeseung was waltzing over and gently dislodging me to begin our walk towards the big concrete shooting studio. Instantly I was tense, but his relaxed gait and the easy-going way he smiled at me made me relax just a tad. 

“Still can’t believe I’m doing this…” I mumbled as I spotted a too-pleased looking Jungwon by the door various staff were flitting in and out of. My steps slowed, like my subconscious was trying to stop me, but Heeseung’s body was angled slightly behind me and I had little choice but to keep moving forwards.

“I can’t either. I’m so glad you decided to come with us. It was going to be torture otherwise.” Heeseung grinned a bit, and I fidgeted with my fingers as I tried to match how calm he was. 

“Jungwon is scarily persuasive…”

“Yeah, he knows just how to get everyone he meets to do what he wants. Can’t tell if that’s because he’s the leader, or because he’s one of the youngest and spoiled rotten…” Heeseung mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. I couldn’t help but giggle at that, bumping shoulders with the male and earning a chuckle right back.  

“I heard that.” We’d reached Jungwon, and he narrowed his eyes slightly at his elder. Heeseung smiled back innocently.

“Heard what?”

“Mmm… already, you ready noona?” Jungwon shifted his attention to me, eyeing the crowd of staff walking in with lights to set up. I, on the other hand, was momentarily distracted as I pointed to his hair. It was… blond. A very beautiful blond, in my opinion.

“You changed your hair.” I commented dumbly. He just grinned a dimpled smile at me.

“I did. Do you like it?” At that, I immediately nodded. Jungwon’s grin stretched wider, eyes crinkling. Then he cleared his throat and patted my shoulder, speaking up loudly. “Here, just go help them out with setting up. I know it’s easy to get lost on your first day. Thank you for your help!” Then, with a discreet push from Heeseung on my upper back, I stumbled into line with the rest of the staff.

For an instant time slowed down as their eyes landed on me. I half expected an alarm to go off and for their gaze to disintegrate me on the spot, and the urge to run right back to Heeseung and Jungwon and hide behind them was incredibly intense. But instead a woman at the back of the line spoke up, voice a little strained. “This way. Here, you can help me carry this.” Her box was practically overflowing, so I jumped at the chance and grabbed some parts out of the top to carry. Instantly she sighed in relief, introducing herself. “I’m Jiyeon. Did you accidentally go in through the wrong door?”

“Oh, uh-” My eyes slid to Jungwon and Heeseung, who were already returning to the loading area where the rest of the boys were getting their jackets all fixed up. “Yeah, my mistake. I was just nervous for my first day, I think. I’m Haneul.” I didn’t hesitate giving my name, a fact that made me wince a bit internally, but Jiyeon greeted me all the same. 

“Nice to meet you, Haneul-ssi. I’ll show you around in that case, since we’re matching.” She chuckled as we entered the building, walking right past the guards as Jiyeon nodded to them. I blinked in slight surprise before realizing she was right. I’d been too nervous to even process it. My eyes slid over her mask, to the backwards ballpark cap she was wearing, and in that moment I was incredibly thankful to Jake and the others for dressing me accordingly. 

“Ah, we are! Thank you…” I bowed lightly as we set down the equipment near a filming station. I peeked over, intrigued by the setup they were building. It was almost like… an american talk-show set? Oh yeah, Jungwon did mention something about that during our walk, didn’t he? “Um, what else can I help you with then?”

“Just help me set up this light. You were briefed on it in the training, right?”

For a moment, panic hit me. My eyes darted down to the pieces we’d carried as Jiyeon began taking them from the box. But then, to my surprise, the pieces looked familiar. Hadn’t the technical students in my school used the same thing? I would have thought they had super advanced lighting, but here was something I’d helped with before. With a sigh of relief, I bent down and helped her again. “Yeah, of course.” And as I worked alongside her, my nerves slowly left. This was something I was familiar with, something I could definitely impress with. My limbs moved automatically, memories flooding back, and in no time we had things set up.

“Come on, let’s go see who else needs help.” Jiyeon pulled us over to various other crew members, introducing us to each other, before I finally noticed that the boys had arrived. Jake, Jay, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Sunghoon were all getting their makeup done, and it looked like they’d already been there for a while. I must not have been paying attention. I tried to shoot them a quick smile as I passed, but remembered my mask and felt a bit silly. Jungwon at least caught my eye and smiled back, waving and bowing his head in time with the staff I was with. I didn’t risk any further interaction than that, and just followed along with the staff.

Honestly, it was more interesting to me than their makeup and costuming anyways. 

Camera dollies, hanging lights, boom mics, and more… I was swiveling my head this way and that, curiously studying everything. Jiyeon and her friend pulled me over to move some bleachers, and in the next thirty minutes I was already joking around with the crew like we’d been friends for ages. 

Which was surprising for me, really, considering I was generally pretty quiet. Not shy, but quiet. Calm. So to find myself giggling as fellow ex-theater students told stories, I was all too happy. “Alright, everyone please gather around so we can get started. Quickly, quickly!” And I waddled after the others like a little duckling, hiding half behind Jiyeon as I watched the director and producer step up. “Hello everyone! Let’s work hard today, alright? Would our stars we’re helping today like to introduce themselves?”

Jungwon greeted with a friendly smile, then struck an odd hand sign. The other males made the same sign, and in unison they declared, “One, two, connect! Hello, we are Enhypen!” I blinked in surprise. They had an introduction? Cool. Jungwon spoke up, taking up his role as leader, and bowed to us all. “I’m Enhypen’s leader, Jungwon. Thank you for helping us today.” He looked up, eyes scanning over the crowd, before his eyes settled on me for a fraction of a second longer. 

“Hello, I’m Sunoo.” Sunoo stepped forward next, voice quiet yet enthused. He looked so different from what I was used to, makeup making his eyes all the sharper and his skin porcelain pale. 

“I’m Jake!” Jake grinned earnestly, and I was truthfully a bit surprised by the sight of his slicked back hair. It made his face look different, more angular and powerful. His styling was definitely at odds with his sunny disposition as he greeted the staff.

“Thanks for working with us. I’m Jay.” Jay greeted with a polite bow. His hair was dusted across his forehead, his features painted in such a mature, angular manner- even more so than before, which just made me think of how soft he really looked when compared to this carefully crafted view.

“I’m Sunghoon.” Sunghoon, as per usual, was muted but polite. And wow, he’d always looked the most like the quintessential k-pop idol, but now? I could very easily see him in the role of a drama, more than likely as a wealthy CEO or something with how his hair was elegantly pulled back.

But where were Heeseung and Riki? Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen them getting ready today at all. I had assumed they were maybe off in another room getting ready due to lack of space or something, but now I didn’t see them at all. Were they not filming today? Then why were they out in the lot? I furrowed my brows, then tuned back in as the producer began delegating some more tasks. As he got to me, Sunoo suddenly walked over.

“Ah, sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you could help me out?” He gently got the director’s attention. 

“Hm? Of course.”

“Can I have someone help us keep track of our phones and some of our belongings? I know most of our things are back in the car, but we can’t really leave some of this stuff, and we want to make sure it doesn’t get taken…” Sunoo began shyly. I stood off to the side awkwardly, hiding a smile- not that I needed to- as Sunoo worked whatever plan he and the boys had more than likely concocted to get me over to them. It was cute, actually, the way this really felt like some sort of undercover mission. “It would be best to have someone specific in charge of them so if one goes missing, we know who to approach. If that’s alright, of course…” The producer nodded immediately, seemingly more than happy to accommodate the young star before him, and even more so to avoid being held liable for lost property.

“Ah, of course! Good thinking. Let me see…” His head swiveled around, scanning his employees, gaze drifting over my head and missing me entirely. I arched a brow. I was right there. Sunoo seemed to agree, as he piped up again.

“Producer-nim, could I just take her aside since she’s already here? Unless you already have something in mind.” Instantly the male nodded, practically ushering me off with Sunoo. Just like that, it was mission accomplished. As we walked off towards the chairs for the actors, Sunoo giggled to me and bumped my shoulder lightly. I giggled discreetly right back.

“Nice one!”

“Obviously.” Sunoo scoffed back playfully. 

As soon as we reached the chairs, I was handed a basket of their belongings and given a seat right next to their chairs for ease of access. Jake grinned at me, leaning over his chair’s arm-rest to peer at my smaller chair. “Look at that! Now you don’t have to be standing all day. Great cover-story, huh?”

“Perfect.” I hummed back. “You know, I was so skeptical about coming here, but now that I’m here? This is like… a dream come true or something.” I trailed off a bit, suddenly a little shy at expressing my thanks so genuinely. I usually avoided doing such things verbally, instead opting to show my gratitude in other ways, but it was worth the discomfort for the bright look that spread over Jake and Sunoo’s features.

“I’m so glad!” Sunoo clapped his hands slightly, the mere idea that I was pleased seeming to make him giddy. It was infectious.

“Which part is the dream? Getting to see the cameras, or getting to be with us?” A sudden voice right next to my ear had me startling, jumping in my seat and making my ears flame. I yelped, jerking my head to the side, and turned to see Heeseung’s grinning face. He had a beanie on, and was still in casual clothes. He laughed at my reaction and straightened up to his full height, sipping on his coffee. 

Fingers suddenly corded through my hair, and yet again I was startled. I quickly registered what the movement was. Heeseung had absentmindedly ruffled my hair. Not to the extreme, but just under the back of the hat, rearranging the hair there so it was nice and groomed again. I swallowed down the confusion at the sudden contact, never having taken Heeseung for a touchy type, and just glared playfully back. “Don’t mess up my hair.” I huffed. “And the cameras, obviously.”

“Mmhmm?” Heeseung smiled slightly, watching as an american male was guided in his lines on stage, and just kept fiddling with the ends of my hair. I sighed and let it be.

“I’m wounded! So mean…” Jake mock pouted at me.

“Oh, ok then. Which part is the dream, huh? Getting to see your fans, or getting to see me?” I fired back, tone just as playful. Before I could laugh and say, ‘thought so!’ or something of the like, the three of them spoke in messy unison. “You.”

“You!”

“You.” I paused, brows furrowing in disbelief, and when I registered what seemed to be completely serious expressions on their faces I laughed awkwardly. Would my ears ever stop burning? Why were they being so strange today? They didn’t even have the excuse of trying to get me disguised any more, and if anything were behaving too suspiciously as a whole. What if someone came over right now? Saw us chatting and touching each other? I wasn’t exactly permitted to be here after all…

My mind racing, spurring nervous thoughts, seemed to register to Jay as he passed by with a script in hand. He swatted at Heeseung’s hand, ushering the males who were acting today to each sit in their respective seats. “Hey, our manager is just over there. Relax a little. You’re making her nervous anyways, hovering around her like a bunch of vultures or something.” His voice was light but stern, and with a pout Sunoo returned to his seat. How he could tell I was nervous when I had glasses and a hat and a mask on to cover me, I couldn’t quite tell. But either way, Heeseung shrugged and grabbed an identical seat to mine. He set it right next to my chair and sat down. Just enough distance to look correct, but way closer than I knew he would sit next to another staff member. Jake, in that high chair on my other side, crossed his arms and bounced his leg. His eyes kept darting to me like he wanted to say something, before he would nervously look around and refrain. 

I nodded to Jay, a silent appreciation. Jay’s lips curved at the edges, a half-smile and half-smirk, before he was suddenly called off towards the stage to take his place. “Wish me luck, Haneul.” He threw over his shoulder before heading over to the edge of the frame. I gave him a double thumbs up even if he couldn’t see it as the director began talking with him.

“So how long do these things last? I’ve heard some movie scenes can take hours…” I leaned over and asked Heeseung. He shrugged and swirled his drink.

“Really depends. With this? Today’s shoot will probably be decently short since it’s dialogue mostly and not much spectacle.” 

“Oh, ok.” I couldn’t stop the slight disappointment in my voice. He seemed immediately bewildered, which I supposed was fair. Jake made a similarly confused noise, seemingly listening from above. 

“You want to stay here the whole day?” Jake’s brows raised in disbelief. I chuckled, fiddling with the edges of the box of phones in my lap.

“Well, it’s not like I want to be here that long or anything. It’s more like… I know that when I leave, I probably won’t get the opportunity to see all of this again.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Sunghoon until this point hadn’t spoken much, perhaps zoning out as I had discovered was somewhat common for the male. But now he leaned forwards a bit, enough to peek out from his place beside Jake and look at me. It was my turn to be confused.

“Well, because-” I cut myself off, trying to think of the right words. This wasn’t my world, this wasn’t where I belonged, you probably aren’t going to invite me again since it’s been such a hassle, what if you get caught? All these thoughts and more, and Jake broke back into the conversation with a scoff.

“What, you think we’re just going to stop being your friend or something after this? So long as you’re with us, we’re gonna take you places that make you happy.” He chuckled, like the idea of not entertaining my little childhood dreams was unfathomable.

“You keep acting like you’re not worth us spending time with you, or doing interesting things with you.” Heeseung tilted his head. I felt too studied all of a sudden, the male peering at me from under cherry bangs like I was some unique creature he didn’t quite understand. “But you also don’t act like we’re above you either. It’s confusing.”

“I’m just trying to be considerate.”

“Put yourself first sometimes. We all have busy schedules, and yet you’re the one always acting like everything is good and happy and fine. It’s ok to take time and do fun or immature things, you know.”

“Agreed.” Sunghoon hummed, gaze intense. He seemed to be on the same wave-length as Heeseung. I felt like his eyes were x-raying down to my very soul in that moment. Why was this conversation getting so personal again? So deep? I laughed awkwardly, swallowing the lump in the back of my throat at being called out so blatantly. I wasn’t a people pleaser, but they were certainly right. I put others concerns and wellbeing before myself, signing on for too many things at a time in the past just to make sure someone else had more time to do what they wanted. So many sacrifices just to make ends meet, so many sacrifices I didn’t need to take just to make loved ones feel and live better.

I didn’t need reminders of what I was putting myself through.

“Jay said not to hover, didn’t he? Besides, I think the director wants you for something, Jake.” I managed to say. Jake’s attention shifted to the director. I hadn’t lied, the director waving him over the second he caught his gaze. Jake sighed, casting me a last glance before leaving.

It was softer, more understanding, and made my insides twist uncomfortably. I didn’t know how I felt about people seeing me. Seeing that self that was below all those other things I put out there. The struggles. And god, the others had that exact same look. Not pitying, but understanding, which at the very least I was grateful for. 

And, as if to slice the tension, Jake’s chair was suddenly occupied again. I blinked in surprise when a bag of Banana Kicks was waved in front of my face. Riki had appeared. Dressed in his casual hoodie from before, he looked cozy as he grinned at me. “I got us some snacks! Your favorite, noona~” The way he was waggling the bag, like he was trying to lure some elusive animal, broke some of the seriousness. I laughed, moving to snatch it from his hands, but Riki pulled it out of the way just in time. “Nuh uh. Staff don’t eat on the job, remember?” 

“Wow, cruel. Just taunting me then?” I looked around, trying to see if people were watching, before swatting playfully at his arm. Riki just giggled, elated, and pulled the back open before chomping on one obnoxiously. I rolled my eyes so hard I probably saw the back of my skull. “Aish, this kid…”

“Say please and I’ll share.”

“Bite me.”

“Come over and bite me…” I heard Sunghoon mumble something off to the side, but I was distracted by Riki leaning down and holding a banana kick in front of my face. 

“Rude, but I’ll cut you slack since you won me that prize. Open wide.” His fingers were already brushing the side of my cheek, trying to gently slip the mask down. My eyes widened and I reached up to hold it in place. 

“Hey, you guys gave me this for a reason!”

“Well how else am I going to feed you if you have it on, huh?” He rolled his eyes right back at me, grinning slightly. I furrowed my brows at him. What a weirdo. But it seemed he was set on this idea, just a tad too eager about it for some bizarre reason- I chalked it up to too much sugar, personally- so I put an end to it by snatching the treat from his grasp. Down came my mask in a flash, in went the puff, and the mask was right back up. “Wha- hey!” 

“Mm, delicious, thanks!” And then, before he could respond and give me some smartass or bratty remark, it was all quiet on set. 

If there was an award for the quietest person alive, I might have been a candidate in that moment. I sat still, tense, eager as I watched them call the scene and watched Jay walk up to his place. A slow walk, a calm sit down. That american playing the talk show host talked, and Jay ran through some lines in return. His voice was low, soothing, deliberate. Different than I was used to. I couldn’t understand what was being said, but I personally thought he was doing a great job.

Evidently the director didn’t think the same, because while he was polite he requested another run through. And then a third. “More… intensity. You’ve got the charisma and the tone, but something in your face doesn’t feel like what we’re going for. This is about desire, remember? Try to focus on that idea and keep it in the back of your mind.” Back to the directors chair. “And, rolling!”

Again Jay went through the same lines, back and forth, but… 

His eyes landed on me. 

Never, never had I felt like Jay’s eyes were piercing. When I first met him, I’d thought him maybe a bit sharp around the edges. Certainly in looks, at least. Then I found that he was actually sweet. His gaze was soft, his disposition full of warmth. But this look?

If he was supposed to be channeling desire, he was doing a phenomenal job. Like a razor, sharp and dissecting. Like I was something that already belonged to him. There was some sort of silent promise just below the composed ghost of a smile on his face, something that felt dark and heavy like a weighted blanket. A vow, maybe. 

Were all of them such good actors?

“That’s perfect! Excellent job, Jay!” The director clapped, signalling the end of the scene, and there was a polite round of clapping. But Jay’s gaze lingered for a heartbeat longer. It felt like an eternity, but he finally blinked and there it was again. His gentle eyes, the shyness of a job well-done as he stepped off the stage and Jake prepared to do his scenes as well. Had I been holding my breath? I couldn’t tell until the air wooshed out of me in a long sigh. I clapped lightly, belatedly, and cheered him on softly as he returned to his seat next to Sunghoon.

“Good job!” I breathed as he passed me. Jay shot me a soft smile then, that sort of stupid gecko-smile that made me giggle, and Jake went up on stage instead.

Jake was a bit more nervous than Jay going on, especially since there was someone in a strange monster costume who would be sitting beside him. It was an odd cross between ridiculous and creepy, but Jake seemed to be having fun talking to the person beneath the mask. Then it was time to shoot, and Jake’s nerves were right back. He said his lines, but I could read the insecurity below the surface as he got into the lines were he was supposed to be expressing that hidden desire. The director sighed, putting a stop to it, and spoke up. “You’re having the same problem Jay-ssi was having. Try to pull from deep inside, think of somebody you like or even some food you want, anything that you crave. Ok? And… action.”

Jake took a deep breath, tilting his head to watch the american man- Jimmy, according to his role- before sliding his eyes and body front towards the camera. As I stole another Banana Kick from Riki’s fingers and ignored his soft protests, his eyes too came to rest on me. Again, I was struck frozen as Jake’s whole being seemed to shift. Not like Jay’s did, not sharp or inevitable, but something else. A yearning below the flesh, eyes intense and direct like he wasn’t just passively looking my way, but really seeing me. He wet his lips, fingers folding together and causing his knuckles to bloom white as he gripped hard. As if self-control was all he could cling to.

And then, right when the scene was over, it was just like Jay again. Right back to normal, all smiles and bowing as his take was approved and given praise. The difference was that his gaze lingered, that he made an instant beeline over to where I was and bounced lightly on his heels before me. “Haneul! Didn’t I do great? Isn’t that costume so cool?” He quickly fired, waving over to his new buddy beneath the mask.

I cleared my throat, shaking the odd crawling, invasive feeling created by his performance off, and grinned easily below my mask. “You did awesome.” I giggled. He leaned forward, down to my level, and it was now my turn to have my snack plucked from my hands. I slapped at his hands, but he just laughed, sticking out his tongue, and munched away. Then it was time for the interactions between Sunoo, Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Jay, and I was just left with Heeseung, Riki, and Jake. 

“Cards? Didn’t you bring cards, Heeseung-hyung?” Riki asked as Jake tried to shove him from his chair. The younger male just pushed Jake away easily, grinning as Jake cursed him out for taking his seat.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I did!” Heeseung perked up, reaching into his back pocket. Out came the cards. Out they came, and he tried to shuffle them in a bridge. Did a cool flip of the card, eyes flickering up to mine to see if I was watching, and he pulled them into the correct position. Then they fell all over the floor and his expression collapsed, an embarrassed look passing over his face. Riki and Jake burst out into laughs. I set the box of phones aside and left my chair to help him pick them up. 

“Here, I’m really good at shuffling. Let me.” I swiped some cards from his hands, our fingers brushing, and he paused his movements to retrieve the cards. I felt his eyes on me as I finished gathering them, pushing them into the right place and straighting up to sit back down in my chair. 

And then the cards dropped all over the floor again in my surprise. 

Jake seemed to have convinced Riki to leave his chair, because suddenly Riki was sitting in my chair. Legs all sprawled out like the string bean he was, he was leaning back, and I’d accidentally sat in his lap. I squeaked, cheeks flaming behind my mask, and instantly jumped right back to my feet. Bizarrely, Riki just made grabby hands at me, trying to swipe me back into place as I stood up off of him. “Aw, come back! We can share so none of us have to sit on the ground.” He had the nerve to pout, in fact, like doing such a thing wasn’t inappropriate. I stammered for a moment, eyes darting around to see if anyone saw.

“A-Ah, um, I can just stand. A staff member can’t sit in- can’t sit that close.” I stammered. Riki’s pout deepened, brows furrowing behind his bangs. His head tilted, eyes studying me like I was saying something silly. But there was something heavier there, almost disapproving. It was gone so fast I could hardly say I was certain I saw it.

“But you’re not staff, noona.”

“Riki, leave it alone.” Heeseung finally came to my rescue and the cards were placed back into my palms. I swallowed thickly, nodding to him. Riki shot Heeseung an oddly venomous look before he was right back to asking me to give him the best cards with a mischievous grin. I relaxed as the mood shifted back to normal and dealt the cards out.

It wasn’t long before Riki was cheating, peeking at Jake’s cards in particular and then grinning like he’d won the lottery when Jake shrieked and hid his cards away. We didn’t have too much time to play given the fact that the others were wrapping up decently quickly, but the first game went to Riki, and the second went to Heeseung. Probably because I slipped him some cards just to combat Riki and get Jake some justice.

Then Jay was back, and Jake had to shoot a group shot. I watched curiously as they painted some blood onto his lip. “Can I join?” Jay leaned in and asked. I startled, taken out of my curious staring, and immediately dealt him into the game. The next game went to me, a fact that made me shift around happily where I stood. Oddly, none of the three males seemed too put out by the notion, a stark contrast to their reactions whenever another member won. I chalked it up to their familiarity with each other. By the time the others returned, we’d just hit a point where it was Jay and Riki dueling things out. Jungwon appeared behind Jay, shaking his shoulders in encouragement, and Sunoo took his side. All the others sided with Riki, Heeseung leaning in to coach the younger male. I giggled at how serious they were making the matter.

“No, no, play that one! You can’t let Jay win.” Heeseung murmured. I heard Jay scoff.

“He’ll never let us hear the end of it.” Sunghoon agreed, tone grave. That just made me laugh harder, especially when combined with the way Jay furrowed his brows and glared over the tops of his cards. 

“You’re totally done, Ni-ki, he’s got the best-” Sunoo began. But abruptly, he was cut off. In our fun, we hadn’t noticed that most of the crew had already packed up much of the equipment. And so, with that done, the producer had wandered over to discuss something with one of the members. 

“The box of phones. Where is it?” He asked suddenly. Everyone went quiet, confused momentarily. But I just paled as horror hit me like a train. I looked around my feet frantically, searching for the box that I’d been trusted with. Fake staff or not, I’d been given a duty. Did I seriously just lose my friends’ phones? Oh god, they were going to be upset, weren’t they? Guilt was already spreading over me. When I was trusted with something, the idea of breaking that trust whether intentionally or not was a horrific possibility. 

“I- I don’t-” I stammered, confused and frantic. The boys also looked around, peeking under their chairs to try and help, but it was quickly obvious that the thing I was supposed to take care of was not here. 

The producer inhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “One job. You had one job.”

“Hey, it’s not her fault, alright? We were distracting her.” Jungwon immediately said, hands held out placatingly. But the producer just shot him a tired look.

“Distraction or not, it’s her job. She should know better than to get starstruck by the idols she works with and forget how to do that job.” His tone became more and more harsh, turning to that tone I was all too familiar with in my years of retail. Disapproval, harsh and unyielding, that view of me as a useless tool. I didn’t often hear such a tone, but I certainly remembered it when I did. With how much pride I put into my work, into my ability to be helpful and supportive and be there on time, it hurt like a knife being twisted in my gut when someone got onto me for my work. Maybe it was stupid, probably because of the combination of failing a task and failing my friends simultaneously, but I couldn’t stop the pressure from building behind my eyes. He just continued, his eyes narrowing. “Speaking of jobs, if we don’t find those phones you can count yours lost. What’s your name, hm?” 

Only then did I remember that I wasn’t really supposed to be there.

“Uh- it’s- um-” my hesitation had some of the members trying to speak up, likely to cover for me further, but the producer had already smelled blood and was leaning into my space to peer at me. “It’s Haneul!” For the second time that day, I stressed out and bleated my real name. He clicked his tongue.

“I don’t recognize you, and I definitely don’t recognize that name. Take your mask off.”

It was then that Jiyeon ran over, most of the cast having caught onto the ordeal and bringing even more eyes. She settled off to the side of the producer, nervously trying to get his attention. “Producer-nim, she’s helped us with camera and setup all day. She knows what she’s doing. I don’t think this is a sasaeng-”

“Mask off. Someone get me a list of our employees right now.” He cut her off with a wave of his hand, looming over me, and the pressure and stress built up higher.

“She didn’t do anything wrong-”

“The shooting day is almost done, let’s just let it be-”

“She’s not a sasaeng!” Everyone was talking. The producer, the crew looking for the phones, the assistant running over with the crew list, the boys trying to defend me helplessly. God, I should have never come here. How stupid was I? I didn’t belong here, and yet I’d let myself believe that there would be no consequences. And I’d even lost the belongings of my friends in the process.

Useless. Useless, useless, useless.

“Ah, producer-nim, the phones are over here! Looks like one of the crew moved them so they could bring some lighting through here!” Someone called out. A rush of relief hit me. I’d still messed up, but at least they didn’t have to pay for it. 

“See? She didn’t mean for it to happen. There’s no need to keep interrogating her.” Jay chimed. His smile was disarming, placating, but there was a sort of edge to his voice. The producer scoffed and took the list of employees from his assistant.

“That’s not what this is about any more. I make a point to learn who I employ, and I do not recognize- aha!” He cut himself off and turned the paper around to face me. His finger pulled down the list, down all of the names, and somehow in all of that entire list…

There was nobody named Haneul. 

I paled, body locking up. Things blurred around me. All of a sudden, there were hands on my arms. Security, I realized dimly. They weren’t wasting any time dragging me from the premises, and my feet skittered over the ground as I stumbled along with them. I winced as their grip sunk in, and then winced even further when the guard’s grip slipped off. A pale hand had intervened, grabbing at the hand on my right shoulder and pulling it away sharply. Those same hands shifted to my biceps and I was pulled backwards, shifted around gently to be positioned behind someone’s shoulders. 

Sunghoon, I registered. His shoulders were set, angled in front of me, body tense. “Don’t touch her like that.” His voice wasn’t aggressive, a stark contrast to the way his body language registered in my mind. 

But maybe that was just my stress talking…

No, his voice was quiet and final, a tinge of something I couldn’t quite put a name to without seeing his expression just below it. I blinked, staring past his shoulder. In the commotion I’d been numb to, somehow Riki and Heeseung had crowded around the guard. I could only see Riki’s face from this angle, and it had me slightly confused. What was that look in his eyes? That indignation, like the guard had done some sin or wronged him to some great extent. Jungwon and Jay were off to the side saying something to the producer. Jungwon seemed serious, serious to an extent I hadn’t seen him, and Jay? He hovered behind Jungwon’s shoulder, occasionally chiming in with some short, choppy words that illustrated exactly how upset he was. 

God, everything felt like it was ringing, that anxiety spike finally crashing right back down. Sunoo and Jake were there to catch me, their hands fleeting as they asked if I was alright or needed anything. Jake tugged my mask down so he could get a better look at me, and Sunoo’s arms twitched about like he wanted to hug me but was unsure with all that was going on around us. I mumbled something I didn’t quite remember, probably reassuring them.

Sunghoon stood like a barrier, wide shoulders and more bulky frame a strange sort of comfort. But even that comfort couldn’t stop the guilt and worry that washed over me when I heard Sunoo murmur something to Jake.

“We’re going to have to sort this out with management now, won’t we?”

[s0s1mple]

P: Vampire!Sunghoon x Time-travel Scientist!Reader

Warnings: Mentions on biting, blood, feeding scenes, mentions of death, dissapearance, time travelling, yearning, kissing, physical touch, possesiveness, soft angst, happy ending!

Synopsis: In 2090, you're sent back in time to study a village that vanished without explanation. There, you met him. You weren't supposed to fall in love with him. But you did, with a vampire. And when time ran out, you left — believing that story had ended. Until one night, back in the future, he finds you. He hasn’t aged. And he never stopped waiting.

Wordcount: 11.8k

June 22, 2090. 

The hum of the machines never stopped in sector 7. 

Even at 3:27 in the evening, the corridors filled with guards, the bright white light pulsing against the huge glass doors. Surveillance cameras present every nook and crook of the room with security drones flying silently overhead, scanning every face, every badge, every retinal print.  

There were no windows in this part of the KRONEX institute- no clocks, no noise from the outside world. Time, here, was studied, twisted, and sometimes... broken. 

You adjusted the collar of your lab coat, feeling the slight static charge settling against your skin. Another night. Another sequence calibration.  

You were the lead scientist for KRONEX's Temporal Division, and one of only five globally certified operators with direct clearance to manipulate raw time.  

Not because you are lucky- but because you are good- really good at what you do.  

"You are early." Said a familiar voice.  

You turned around to see Taehyun, hands in his lab coat pockets, glasses slightly askew. He always arrived fashionably five minutes late, so this was new.  

"So are you," you say smirking.  

"Someone write it in the history."  

He chuckled, stepping beside you as the biometric scanner opened the reinforced glass doors to Lab room Delta- 12. 

Inside, your team was already gathered,  

Mira, the chronophysics analyst, stood at her console with her usual lip balm which she applies ever minute, tapping at the interface like it owned her something.  

Yuvi, head of atmospheric translation, stayed near the back, mumbling data projections to herself. 

Jungwon, the youngest, but sharp as hell, greeted you with the usual, two fingered salute from behind the drone mapping panel.  

"Took you long enough." Mira muttered without looking up. 

"You're welcome for the coffee I brought you last time." You say as you head to the central table.  

Everyone quickly followed you, sitting around the table. 

You five are the specialized high qualification scientists who got chosen to be the people handling lab delta- 12. Coming from different backgrounds, having same interests and working in cases together for years made your guys' bond unbreakable.  

You five are highly qualified specialists chosen to operate Lab Delta-12. Coming from different backgrounds but sharing the same passion, you've worked on countless cases together over the years — and that’s made your bond unbreakable. 

The door opened, interrupting your casual talks.  

In walked, Dr. Han Myung-sik— head of KRONAX, the man who'd once published a paper predicting time dilation six years before it was observed in real data. His face, though aged, was unreadable— eyes sharp beneath the thick silver eyebrows.  

No one spoke. You all stood up immediately.  

"Sit," he said. "This will be quick."  

The doors sealed shut behind him. A cold hum flickered through the room as he turned on the internal projector.  

Five floating files appeared above the surface. Each labeled, RED CASE.  

"Your group— delta 12 is chosen for this matter." Dr.Han said quietly.  

You could feel the weight of his words which he's about to say.

"We've uncovered five unresolved incidents. Each linked to potentially an unnatural shift in recorded time."  

"These aren't ripples," he continued.  

"These are fractures. Events that don't line up with any known temporal logic. People disappeared, memories vanished, objects never aged and yet—"  

He tapped the interface. The room dimmed, and each of your profiles synced to a case file. 

"You are the only ones qualified to investigate." 

He started pacing slowly.  

"Yuvi. You're being sent to March 2311, Seoul; right before the blackout that erased six months of global data records. You'll observe the internal tech culture and corporate rivalry."  

Yuvi blinked, nodding quietly, already calculating her cover identity.  

"Mira."  

He turned to her.  

"Your case is year 1652, Gyeongju province. A palace scribble who reportedly recorded a 'sky-born woman of light' before his records were seized. The ink used in his account was... not of this earth.” 

Mira grinned. "Finally, something fun."  

"Jungwon. Taehyun. You'll split into Northern territories. Parallel years, overlapping reports. Two villages with identical names, but only one should exist."  

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, "Are we crossing time lines? "  

"Just brushing," Dr.Han replied. "Do not stay longer than you have to."

Then, he turned to you.  

"And you."  

The room stilled.  

"Your case is the most weird one."  

A red dot expanded above the table. 

Satellite data. Korean countryside. Grainy and quiet. 

"A village in 2019 – known to exist, documented, populated and functioning." "Then, it disappeared. Not physically or violently. Just... gone. All the databases rewrote themselves. The people who lived there vanished as if they were never even existed— never even born." "Your job is to go there, undercover. Blend in. Find the root event. Identify the root autonomy and leave before it happens."  

Your fingers clenched lightly under the table. You stared at the red dot on the map.  

2019.  

A quiet time. A dangerous one — because it was still close enough to modern history to be familiar. Easy to slip up. Easy to stay too long.  

"Do we suspect temporal interference?"  

You asked as you shifted your gaze from the red dot to his eyes. Dr.Han meets your eyes. "We suspect something far worse. Something that doesn't belong in any time."  

The files flickered red again. "You'll begin calibration tonight. You jump within 750 hours. That is one month. Use your time wisely."  

As he turned to leave, he paused just once— right by the door.  

"And one more thing," he said without looking back.  "Don't fall in love with the timeline. It doesn't love you back."  

With that, he was gone. The table darkens. The lights return. Yuvi exhales. Mira cracks her knuckles and Jungwon leans forward.  

"2019 huh?" Taehyun mutters beside you. "Better pack your sarcasm and Emo clothes."  

You don't respond. You just stare at the red dot again. 

The village. Gone from memory. Gone from maps. But waiting for you all the same.  

One month. 

And only one day to finish prepping, calibrating your minds, bodies, and identities before entering a timeline that wouldn’t even recognize your names. You sat in the Sim Room, surrounded by floating holoscreens of early-2010s Korea. Architecture. Clothing. Language slang. Historical emotional markers. It was all too recent. Too real. 

Mira was curled on a bench nearby, watching 1600s scrollwork with a look that said I’d rather wing it. Taehyun was arguing with an AI over inconsistency in his destination’s documentation. Again. Jungwon? Already finished his prep module and was now trying to teach Mira how to drink from a metal bottle while upside down. 

“You’re going to the past, not space,” she said, annoyed but smiling.  “Still useful if I end up in a well,” Jungwon shrugged. You blinked away the holograms and stood, stretching out your arms. 

“This doesn’t feel like prep,” Yuvi murmured, joining you. “It feels like goodbye.” 

You didn’t answer.  

She studied you, thoughtful. “You okay with your timeline?”  “2019 is barely the past,” you said. “Feels like I could bump into my parents if I’m not careful.”  “Yeah, but yours is the haunted village,” Mira called. “Mine is just a floating woman in the sky.” 

“You’re the floating woman,” Jungwon muttered under his breath. She chucked a protein chip at him while he hid behind you, holding your shoulders as if his body isn't larger than yours.  

“Alright,” Taehyun said, glancing around. “Final dinner tonight in the Commons? Before the serious lockdown begins?”  “Only if you don’t bring another slide presentation to the table,” Mira groaned. 

“I make no promises.”  You smiled — small, but genuine 

And as the others drifted out of the room, chattering, playfully teasing, you lingered a moment longer — looking up at the blinking red timestamp over the Sim Door. 

30:00:00:00  DAYS : HOURS : MINUTES: SECONDS  JUMP 

You were the first one in the bay. The air smelled sterile, like metal and ionized mist. The chamber was massive — white, cold, humming. Five jump pods lined the back wall, each glowing faint blue with individual temporal calibration. 

The boots of your suit clicked softly as you walked, every step echoing louder than your breath. The fabric hugged your body like skin, the material pressure-sealed and embedded with auto-adaptive climate tech. Your mind was a storm beneath the still surface — years of training colliding with something much quieter. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” came Taehyun’s voice from behind. You turned. He looked exhausted, but composed — the kind of man who smiled with his mouth but not his eyes. “Didn’t try,” you replied simply. 

He nodded, stepping beside you, with his arm around your shoulder. You both looked at the pods in silence. 

One for each of you. One jump. One direction.  No promises of coming back the same. 

Soon after, Yuvi arrived — hair tied, suit zipped, clutching a small, folded piece of paper in her hand. A name, probably. A reminder of something real. Mira strolled in with a grin too bright to be sincere. “Guess it’s finally happening,” she said, snapping her gum, though her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted her suit cuffs. 

Jungwon came last, walking like he was on his way to a vacation. Humming. But you saw the tension in his knuckles as he flexed them once, twice. Dr. Han entered from the upper level, flanked by three silent technicians and a console assistant holding the jump sequence tablet. 

“Final clearances have been locked in,” he announced, voice loud across the bay. “You have fifteen minutes.” 

One by one, your mission drives were inserted into the small ports at your pod stations. The information would sync once you landed in your time period — personalized cover stories, forged credentials, emergency kill phrases. 

“I’ll see you all again,” Jungwon said, softer now, eyes scanning the rest of you. “In whatever version of time we land in. 

“Bring back something cool,” Mira added. “Like a comet or an alien.”  “Or your soul intact,” Yuvi muttered, mostly to herself. You looked around. 

These people — their lives had been laced into yours for years. Work. Sleep. Discover. Repeat. The way your names felt normal together. The easy sarcasm. The shared silence in moments like this. You didn’t know what it would be like without them.  Maybe you weren’t meant to know. Your pod blinked green. Final sequence activated. 

You stood in front of it, heart slamming once, sharply, against your ribs. 

“You’ll be inserted at 03:12 AM, August 9th, 2019,” Dr. Han said beside you. “Just outside the village’s boundary. Our records end there. No satellite returns after that date. No digital trails. Just fog.” 

You nodded. 

“And remember,” he added, “observe, record, don’t interfere.” He paused. “And don’t stay longer than you have to.” You stepped into the pod. The door hissed closed behind you. Inside: darkness. Soft blue lights blinked around your headrest. A countdown began in the corner. 

00:00:10  00:00:09  00:00:08...  Your breathing slowed. Fingers tight on the seat grips.  00:00:03  00:00:02...  You thought of nothing.  00:00:01  ENGAGING TEMPORAL LAUNCH. 

Everything went white. 

You woke up choking on fog. 

Your knees hit grass first, body staggering out of the collapsed time pod buried beneath undergrowth. The pod disintegrated on schedule — technology melted into mist the second your boots touched this era. You stood slowly, the chill biting through your fabricated 2010s-era jacket. A navy hoodie. Worn boots. Phone model synced to local time tech. Fake ID in your pocket. History-approved.  And ahead of you — trees. Low mist curling over quiet fields. One winding road in the dark. 

“03:14,” you whispered, checking the time. You started walking. It didn’t take long to reach the village. Just a few winding turns along cracked pavement and flickering streetlamps — too dim for a place this small. It looked normal at first glance. Houses with tiled roofs. Wind chimes. A distant dog barking. But the silence? Too heavy. Too complete. Not a single radio. Not one human voice. 

You followed the map projection in your eye lens. Your identity here: transfer student, staying with a distant relative for the summer before university. Your cover was clean. “Blend in. Observe. Don’t interfere.” Dr. Han’s words echoed. 

You reached the village center. A bakery. A post office. A small clinic. It was beautiful — in a nostalgic, sleepy sort of way. You spotted an inn. Two stories. Wooden steps. A soft yellow porch light still glowing. You knocked once. A moment later, an older woman opened the door, eyes squinting at your unfamiliar face. 

“Ah… you must be the niece, right? From Seoul?” You smiled, polite. "Yes, ma’am.”  “Room’s upstairs. Already made it up for you.”  With that, you leave to your room. 

August 10, 2019.

The village was quieter in the morning. Not dead. Just... slow. 

You walked past the corner bakery — the one that smelled like burnt sugar and citrus. Past a row of mailboxes that hadn’t been touched in a week. You weren’t sure if people here hated bills or just trusted too easily. Notebook in your jacket. Identity chip syncing your steps to the research log in your neural band. 

Day 2.  Civilian behavior: consistent.  Average activity start time: 6:53 AM  No sign of temporal noise. No anomalies. 

You smiled and bowed slightly to an old man sweeping the steps outside a shop. He gave you a nod in return. Eyes kind, but faintly puzzled — like he couldn’t remember when you arrived, but accepted you anyway. That was the first pattern you noticed. People here forgot details fast. But nothing big enough to ring alarms. Just enough to feel like déjà vu. 

You took a seat on the raised edge of a well in the town center, glancing down at the still water.  Your eye-lens scanned your surroundings. Kids biking. A woman hanging sheets in perfect rows. Market stalls setting up. 

Everything looked normal. Back at the inn, the old woman handed you a basket. 

“Bread for the east field home. The family that lives up near the woods. They get their supplies late.” 

“East field?” you asked, trying to remember the map. 

“Take the long path. The house is old, but someone’s always there.” 

“Someone?” 

She nodded. “A quiet boy. Rarely speaks. Keeps to himself. Been around longer than most here.” 

You didn’t ask more. Just took the basket and walked. And as you stepped onto the eastern trail, into the trees and shifting light… You didn’t know yet that you were walking toward the beginning. Of the end. 

The path to the east house was longer than expected. 

Thick trees bent overhead like old, quiet watchers. The air here was different — cooler, touched with something metallic. You adjusted the basket in your hands. You finally reached the gate — rusted iron, half open. A path lined with overgrown grass stretched up to a traditional hanok-style house. Wooden. Quiet. Heavy with stillness. 

You stepped through, gently. No animals. No birds. Just that strange silence again. You knocked once. Then twice. No answer. You were about to leave when the door creaked open. And there he was. 

He looked like he didn’t belong in 2019. Or any year. 

Dressed simply — white cotton shirt, black slacks, sleeves slightly rolled up. But there was something... too elegant about the way he held the door. Something slow and precise. Still. His eyes — dark, unfathomable — landed on yours. 

For a full second, he didn’t say a word. Neither did you. “Delivery,” you said softly, lifting the basket. 

“Right,” he replied after a pause, voice smooth, almost melodic. “They said you’d be coming.” 

You held the basket out, but he didn’t take it immediately. Instead, he studied you. Not rudely. Not even intently. Just... curiously. Like a puzzle he couldn’t quite read. Or a scent he wasn’t supposed to follow. The moment you stepped through the trees, he felt it. The beat beneath your skin. The warmth. Your blood had a scent — not strong, not desperate like others. 

Sweet. Calming. Clean. He hadn’t fed in days. But you made the ache stir. “You live here alone?” you asked. 

He nodded. “For a while now.” 

“It’s beautiful.” 

He didn’t smile. But he didn’t look away. 

“Most people say it’s empty.” 

You tilted your head. “Are you?” 

That made something shift in his gaze — not amusement exactly, but the ghost of something near it. “Not today,” he said finally. 

He took the basket, fingers brushing yours for just half a second. His skin was cool. Not cold. But noticeably not warm. “Thank you,” he said, stepping back. “Be careful going back. The light fades fast out here.” 

You turned to leave, but your instincts tugged once. “What’s your name?” you asked over your shoulder. 

A pause. 

“Sunghoon,” he said quietly. 

You nodded once. “I’m Y/N.” Another pause. “I know,” he said. 

And then the door closed. As you walked back down the path, heart steady but hands tingling from where his touched yours, you couldn’t shake one thing: There had been no heartbeat behind that door. Just silence. You don’t notice someone- Sunghoon, watching you from his window as you walk back. 

And that, that night few people go missing because Sunghoon, couldn’t handle his hunger for blood. Not when he was reminded of how desperate he was to taste something sweet- something pure like your blood- like you. He can’t bite you, not yet. So, he resorted to his usual way, biting the villagers. One by one.  

It was quiete big village when Sunghoon first step foot in there. 2010. The year Sunghoon decided to enter into the huge village, leaving behind memories of his previous life- the one where everyone treated him like the monster he was. He didn’t like it one bit. So? He ended it. Bit and killed everyone who called him a monster.  

Leaving behind memories and people wasn’t new to him. He’s been like that since he was turned- since 527 years. It's what he’s best at other than sucking peoples’ blood. Having spent many years on this planet made him discard unwanted memories for good.  

And maybe that’s why he never truly loved anyone. It’s not because he isn’t capable of it. It's because he knows that they won't stick around. Not when they find out what he is, not when they leave this world entirely. Also, because, he never truly found someone who made him feel things. Feel things which are foreign to him- Desire.  

Desire for blood? Thats more like filling his hunger. Desire is what he felt when he saw you. If you ever told Sunghoon that he’d yearn for a girl he met once, he’d scoff, shaking his head. That can never happen, not when he's been on this earth for more than 500 years. He knows how to control his feelings- it was easy for him because he didn't have any feelings in the first place.  

But why is that the moment he saw you, heard you- your hearbeat, your blood pulsing in your throat, smelled the scent of you, he wanted to make you his?  

Its funny, really. This whatever weird feeling he has in his stomach is new to him. Perhaps he’s hungry for your blood? No. He’s hungry for you.  

You are here to find out how the village disappeared. Maybe you do find out that he’s the reason for the mass disappearance. But will your heart obey to leave behind everything that you've uncovered here? Leave behind someone, who is the sole reason why the disappearance happened in the first place? 

Only the future holds the answer. Maybe the present? You truly don't know, not when the time’s twisted and you are spiralling in it. 

August 14, 2019. 

You weren’t planning to run into him again. You were just taking the trail by the lake. Collecting audio samples. Watching people prep for the lantern festival — all smiles and paper crafts, sunlight catching on water like glass. But then there he was. Standing near the edge of the hill that overlooked the lake. Not moving. Just… watching it. Like the water itself had said something only he could hear. 

You almost didn’t say anything. But he turned to you first. 

“You walk this path often?” 

His voice was still soft. Still slow. Like everything he said had already passed through a hundred filters before reaching you. 

“Not really,” you said, stepping closer. “But it’s quiet. Good for thinking.” 

“Thinking,” he echoed, like it was a foreign word. “You do that a lot?” 

You smiled. “Occupational hazard.” 

“Ah,” he said. “Let me guess. You’re a writer.” 

“Wrong.” 

“A scientist?” 

You blinked. A beat too long. 

“Why that guess?” 

“Your eyes,” he said. 

“What about them?” 

“They look like they’re always dissecting things. Even me.” 

He turned back to the lake after that, leaving your thoughts spiraling slightly behind him. The sun was dipping lower, casting light through the trees. A warm breeze stirred the ends of your hair, and for once, you didn’t feel like recording anything. Just being here. 

“Why do you live so far from the village?” you asked. 

“They forget me better this way.” 

You frowned. “That’s sad.” 

“Not really.” 

“When people forget you… you stop needing to prove you exist.” 

You turned to him then — not just listening but really seeing him. The distance in his eyes. The calm sadness he wore like second skin. 

“You don’t want to be remembered?” 

“I didn’t say that,” he replied. “I just don’t mind being forgotten.” 

A few kids laughed somewhere nearby, running with paper lanterns. You looked down at your shoes. “You’re hard to forget, you know.” It slipped out before you could stop it. He didn’t respond for a moment. Then, so quietly: “So are you.” 

Neither of you moved. The wind stilled. The air felt... charged. Like time paused. Just for this. 

Then— “You should go,” he said gently.

“It gets colder here after sunset.” He wasn’t pushing you away. But he was. And that strange ache bloomed behind your ribs without warning. You turned to go, steps slow. And as you walked, you felt his eyes on your back the entire time. 

August 18, 2019. 

It was supposed to be a short walk. You’d been gathering weather data, checking tree patterns near the edge of the forest. The innkeeper said the rain wouldn’t come until morning. But the sky didn’t listen. It started with a single drop. Then another. 

Within seconds, it was falling fast — fat, cold drops smacking against your shoulders, soaking through your hoodie in a matter of moments. You pulled the fabric up over your head and turned to head back — but the path was already slick, the trees pressing in closer, and fog began to roll over the field like a breath held too long. 

“Seriously?” you muttered, shivering. That’s when you saw him. Standing just under the crooked edge of an old pavilion by the hill — motionless, dry, and completely unbothered by the storm.  Sunghoon. 

You blinked, surprised. "You're always just… appearing out of nowhere.” 

“You're always walking into places you shouldn't be alone,” he replied calmly, eyes tracking the water running down your cheek. 

You hesitated. Then stepped under the structure, chest heaving slightly from the sudden cold. Your shoulders were soaked. Hair clinging to your face. Hands trembling. He watched you quietly. “You're freezing.” 

You gave a weak smile. “That tends to happen when it rains on humans.” 

He didn’t return it. Instead, he removed his outer jacket and handed it over without a word. You stared at it. “I’m already wet. You don’t have to—” 

“I want to.” 

You took it slowly. It was still warm. 

You slipped it on. It smelled like night air and something faintly old — like worn books and clean linen. Not the scent of someone who lived alone in a dusty house. 

The silence stretched. 

Raindrops tapping the roof like a ticking clock. 

Your breath fogged the air. 

His didn’t. 

“Why were you even out here?” you asked. 

He didn’t answer immediately. 

Then: 

“I thought you’d come this way.” 

You turned your head sharply. “You were… waiting for me?” 

He didn’t flinch. 

“Something about the sky felt wrong. I knew you’d ignore it.” 

“You don’t even know me.” 

“I know your pattern.” 

That shut you up for a moment. 

And somehow... warmed you. 

More than the jacket did. 

Your teeth chattered softly. You turned away, embarrassed. 

Suddenly, you felt something. 

His fingers — gently, lightly — tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. 

You froze. 

“You should be more careful,” he murmured, voice barely audible over the rain. “This place doesn’t forgive softness.” 

You looked up at him then. 

And he was already too close. 

Not touching. 

Not reaching. 

Just there. 

And for a second, you wondered what it would be like if he leaned in just a little more. 

“Do you always talk like that?” you whispered, lips parted. “Like you’re centuries old?” 

He gave the faintest smile like he knows something you don’t. 

The rain kept falling. The sky stayed grey. 

And your heartbeat too loudly in your ears. 

You didn’t ask him why his hands were cold even though he felt warm. 

You didn’t ask why he never blinked when he looked at you. 

The rain kept falling. 

And he stood there, completely still, listening to the rhythm of her blood, her breath, her heart... 

And all he could think was: 

Don’t touch her again.  Don’t want her.  Don’t let her see the monster inside you. 

But it was already too late. 

Because for the first time in years, he wanted something enough to lose control. 

And it was you. 

The rain had stopped, but the night still smelled like it. 

You walked slowly. 

Beside him. 

His jacket still hung over your shoulders, and you hadn’t given it back. He hadn’t asked. 

“You didn’t have to walk me home,” you said softly, watching your boots splash through a shallow puddle. 

“I know.” 

He wasn’t smiling, but his tone was warm. Like he wanted to say, I just wanted more time with you, but didn’t know how. 

The village lights shimmered faint in the distance — soft and yellow, like floating lanterns. 

It felt like you were the only two people in the world. 

“Do you always spend your nights out there?” you asked. 

“Sometimes. I like the quiet.” 

“Most people don’t,” you said. “Silence makes them uncomfortable.” 

He glanced at you. 

“What about you?” 

You thought about it. 

“I think silence is the only time people stop pretending.” 

He actually smiled at that. Just a little. The kind that tugged one corner of his mouth — barely visible, but real. 

“What do you do all day?” you asked, curious now. “No job? No classes?” 

“I read,” he said. “Walk. Watch.” 

“That sounds like what I do, too.” 

“You watch more than most people,” he replied, side-eying you. “Always observing. Analyzing.” 

You raised a brow. “Are you calling me creepy?” 

“No,” he said. “Just... different.” 

You looked away to hide your smile. 

“Is that your way of saying I’m weird?” 

“No,” he repeated, slower this time. “It’s my way of saying I see you.” 

“Okay, your turn,” you said quickly, trying to recover. “What did you want to be when you were little?” 

He didn’t answer right away. 

“I don’t remember,” he said finally. “It’s been a long time since I was little.” 

You turned to him, blinking. “How old are you, Sunghoon?” 

He looked at you. Really looked. 

Then smiled like he knew he shouldn’t say the next thing — but said it anyway. 

“Older than I look.” 

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not an answer.” 

“It’s the only one I’ve got.” 

You reached the inn gate. 

The lantern outside flickered faintly in the breeze.  Neither of you moved. 

The air was warmer now. The clouds had parted just enough for moonlight to wash over the steps. 

You stood there — his jacket still on your shoulders, the scent of rain still on your skin, and his eyes fixed gently on you. 

“Good night, Sunghoon,” you said finally, stepping up to the door. 

“Good night, Y/N.” 

You turned the handle. 

Just before stepping inside, you hesitated. 

“You never told me what you like,” you said over your shoulder. 

He tilted his head slightly. “Like?” 

“Hobbies. Music. Favorite food. Normal things.” 

Another pause. 

Then: 

“The sound of rain,” he said. “Books with no endings. And people who don’t run away.” 

You met his eyes. 

And something about the way he said it made your heart ache. 

You didn’t know why. 

But you didn’t look away. 

Not for a long moment. 

Then finally, you stepped inside. 

And closed the door. 

August 20, 2019.

You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. 

Just returning a jacket. 

Just a polite gesture. 

Just good manners. 

So why did your pulse stutter when the house came into view? 

The same tall trees. The same crooked path. The same quiet. 

You climbed the short stone steps and raised your hand to knock — but before you could, the door opened. 

He was already there. 

Like he’d been waiting. 

Or like he’d heard you coming long before you got close. 

“You came back,” he said, voice low, like sunlight through fog. 

“Just to return this,” you said quickly, lifting the folded jacket. 

“Of course.” 

But he didn’t take it. 

Instead, he stepped aside. 

“Do you want to come in?” 

You blinked. 

“Is that okay?” 

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have asked.” 

You stepped inside. 

The air was cool, but not cold. The interior still had that strange untouched feeling — like a photo frozen in time. Wood floors. A low bookshelf. A kettle on the counter, untouched. 

You walked slowly, setting the jacket on the nearest chair. 

“You live like a ghost,” you said softly. 

He raised a brow. “I’m neat.” 

“You’re ancient,” you teased. 

He smirked faintly. “So you’ve said.” 

You turned toward the bookshelf — rows of old spines and journals, some in languages you didn’t recognize. One looked handwritten. Another... burned around the edges. 

“These don’t look like they’re from a village library.” 

“They’re not.” 

“So what are they?” 

“Pieces of me,” he said. 

You paused, looking back. 

His expression didn’t change, but there was something fragile in his stillness. 

You let the question go. 

“Tea?” he asked suddenly, already reaching for the kettle. 

“You drink tea?” 

“No. But you do.” 

He made it quietly. Smooth movements. No wasted motion. 

He handed you the mug and sat across from you, careful, like he was making sure there was enough distance. 

“Do people visit you often?” you asked, wrapping your hands around the cup. 

“No.” 

“Why?” 

“Because they forget me,” he said. “Or… I let them.” 

“But you didn’t want me to forget you?” you asked quietly. 

His eyes met yours. 

Dark. Unreadable. 

“I didn’t plan on you remembering at all.” 

You blinked. “What changed?” 

He stared at the steam curling between you. 

Then said, without blinking: 

“You smiled at me.” 

The silence stretched. 

The weight of it made your chest feel tight. 

Your fingers tightened around the mug. 

“Why do you always say things like that?” you whispered. 

“Like what?” 

“Like it means something. And then you never explain.” 

He stood up then, slowly — walking toward the window, looking out at the trees. 

“Because I’ve learned that explaining doesn’t stop people from leaving.” 

“So you just... stay mysterious?” 

“No,” he said, without turning around. “I stay safe.” 

You stood too. Quiet steps. 

He didn’t move as you stopped beside him, just far enough for the space between your hands to hum. 

“What are you so afraid of, Sunghoon?” you asked, not accusing — just soft. 

A pause. 

Then finally: 

“That if you knew the truth about me… you'd stop smiling at all.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“Nothing. Don’t think too much.” He says. 

You didn’t leave. 

You just stood beside him. 

And for a moment, the silence between you wasn’t heavy. 

It was tender. 

“You okay?” you asked. 

He didn’t answer. 

Didn’t trust himself to speak. 

Because right now, he could feel it rising — that burn behind his eyes, the pressure in his jaw, the ancient ache in his throat. 

The want. 

Not just to feed. 

To claim. 

“I think you should go,” he said, voice tight. 

“Did I say something wrong?” 

“No.” 

“Then—” 

“Please.” 

His back was turned now.  He couldn’t let her see his face.  Not when his eyes were beginning to glow. Not when his fangs had started to edge down. 

He bit the inside of his cheek — hard enough to draw blood. Let the pain steady him. Anchor him. 

“Sunghoon? Is something wrong? You can trust me- I trust you.”  

But all he said was: 

“I don’t trust myself.” 

You stared at his back for a long moment. 

Then quietly… you left. 

The door shut behind you with a soft click. 

And he stood there in the quiet, eyes still burning, heart raging inside a chest that shouldn’t have had one anymore. 

August 21, 2019. 

You went to the library to check the village’s records.  

To look for any book, any magazine, any piece of information that would help you get a better insight about the village’s roots.  

You found a series of census logs tucked into a low cabinet—records of the village’s population numbers and names dating back to the 1900s. Faded, but surprisingly intact. 

And that’s when you saw it. 

A pattern. 

In 2010, the population was 528.  In 2012, it dropped to 413.  By 2015: 290.  2017: 178. 

No official records of why.  No mass migration.  No natural disaster.  No illness outbreak. 

Just... names disappearing. 

Not all at once.  Not dramatically. 

But slowly.  Like something was taking them. One by one. 

You scanned the reports harder now. 

Looking for causes. Deaths. Relocations. 

But most names just had one word stamped across the last column: 

“Unrecorded.” 

You slammed the binder shut and sat back. 

Your chest felt tight. 

You looked around the library. The light felt colder. The silence heavier. 

This is getting nowhere. Rather than the doubts clearing, more questions are surfacing. Too many questions. Too less information. You doubt you are even eligible to solve this mystery. Maybe Dr.Han realizes he made a mistake choosing you once you return. You wonder how the others are doing. Are they going through the same difficulties?  

You shake your head as if it shakes away the insecure thoughts creeping up. You need to focus. On this village. The people. Everyone here seems normal except... Sunghoon. 

He always seemed to appear when no one else was around. 

Your fingers curled against the cover of the book. 

No. Don’t jump to conclusions. That doesn’t mean anything. 

And yet… 

Something in your gut whispered otherwise. 

Still, when the sun began to set— 

You found yourself walking toward the hill. 

Toward him. 

Carrying questions you couldn’t ask yet. 

And a heart that didn’t want answers- the real ones.  

The sky was painted in soft blue fading to lavender.  The last light of the sun had just dipped behind the mountains, leaving a glow that shimmered across the tall grass. 

You stood at the top of the hill, overlooking the village lights far below.  Everything was quiet. 

Except your thoughts. 

Except him. 

Sunghoon stood beside you — close, not quite touching. Hands in his pockets. Eyes on the horizon. 

“You always find the quietest places,” you said softly. 

“I think they find me.” 

You turned to him, trying to read that impossible expression on his face. 

“You always talk like that. Like there’s a whole world in your head and you’re just… giving me scraps.” 

“I don’t mean to,” he said. “I just forget how to be anything else.” 

You took a breath. 

“Then remind yourself. Just for tonight. Just for me.” 

He looked at you then. 

Really looked. 

And for the first time, he didn’t look away. 

“You scare me,” he said quietly. 

That made your chest tighten. 

“Why?” 

“Because you make me want to stay.” 

The wind brushed through the grass. 

Your heart was too loud. Your breath too soft. 

He stepped closer. 

His hand, trembling just slightly, reached up and cupped your cheek — gentle, reverent, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he touched too hard. 

His thumb brushed under your eye, then trailed down to your jaw. 

“Say something,” he whispered. 

You didn’t. 

You leaned in instead. 

And he met you there. 

The kiss was nothing like you imagined. 

It wasn’t rushed.  It wasn’t wild. 

It was slow. 

Like two people learning what it meant to feel alive again. 

His lips were cool at first — like the wind before rain — but they softened against yours. Moved with aching care. Like he was memorizing the shape of your mouth and trying not to fall apart doing it. 

You felt his breath catch. 

Felt his hand slide into your hair. 

Felt your knees go weak when he deepened the kiss — still gentle, still hesitant, but full of something you didn’t have a name for. 

And then— 

He pulled away. 

Fast. 

Like he’d caught fire. 

His eyes were wide.  Not with lust. Not even guilt. 

With fear. 

“I shouldn’t have—” 

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, reaching for him. 

He stepped back. 

“No. This was a mistake.” 

“Why are you doing this again?”  “Every time I get close, you push me away. Why?” 

He didn’t answer. 

Not with words. 

But his face… 

That expression? 

It looked like someone who just tasted something too good.  Something too human.  Something that made him forget what he was. 

“Because I can’t be the reason you get hurt,” he finally said. 

And then he turned away. 

Leaving you alone with a kiss that still burned on your lips, and a silence that felt heavier than ever. 

August 26, 2019. 

You ignored him after that. Turned your head away whenever he got into. Looked away first when you both made eye contact. Avoided him when he came to apologize the very next day of your kiss.  

Not cause you hate him. You wish you did but no. You remember what Dr.Han said, “Observe. Record. don’t interfere.” You can't risk everything just cause of some stupid, weird feelings that you have. No. You can’t let your emotions get in the way of your case. This isn't right.  

Youre altering time, you should do it wisely, not recklessly.  

And so, you did what you thought was best. Ignore. Distance. Observe. 

Or so, you thought.  

You weren’t expecting to run into him. 

But of course you did. 

He was leaning against the side wall of the bakery, half-hidden in the shade, like always. Silent. Watching. 

He didn’t call out. 

Didn’t wave. 

But you felt it — the shift in air when his gaze hit you. That quiet weight of his presence. 

You almost kept walking. 

Almost. 

But then— 

“Y/N.” 

His voice was low. Not cold. Just… tired. 

You turned after a moment of hesitation. 

Met his eyes. 

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked. 

Simple question. 

But it landed sharp. 

You didn’t answer right away. 

“I’ve just been… busy.” 

“You’ve seen me.” 

“I didn’t think you wanted to talk.” 

“Don’t do that,” he said, stepping forward. “Don’t turn it around like it’s me.” 

You blinked. “I’m not—” 

“You haven’t looked at me in five days.” 

His tone wasn’t angry.  It was quiet. Steady. Too steady. 

“You smiled at me one night,” he said, “and then the next morning, it’s like I didn’t exist.” 

“Sunghoon—” 

“And I thought—”  He paused. Ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.  “I thought maybe you needed space. But then I saw you with that guy. That tall one from the orchard. And you were laughing. Just… laughing. Like everything’s normal.” 

You looked away. 

He let the silence settle. 

Then finally: 

“It hurt.” 

That was it. Just that. 

Not possessive. Not demanding. Just real. 

You didn’t know what to say. So, you said the only truth you had: 

“I’m scared, Sunghoon.” 

He looked at you for a long time. 

“Of me?” 

“Of not knowing what’s happening. Of what this village is hiding. Of what you’re hiding.” 

You stepped back slightly, instinctively. Not far. 

But enough. 

His eyes dropped to the space between you.  Then back up. 

“Do you think I’d ever hurt you?” 

You hesitated. 

Then, quietly: 

“I don’t know.” 

That broke something in him. 

You saw it. In his eyes. 

Not rage. 

Just sadness. 

“I wouldn’t,” he said softly. “Not even if I wanted to.” 

You turned back and left without replying, unable to look into his face or even talk to him. 

September 5, 2019. 

You shouldn’t have gone looking. 

You told yourself you weren’t.  That you just needed air.  That the trail by the forest was peaceful this time of day. 

But really? You missed him. 

And you couldn’t stop thinking about what he said. 

“I wouldn’t hurt you. Not even if I wanted to.” 

It looped in your mind for days. Through sleep. Through silence. Through guilt. 

You didn’t give him an answer. So, you were going to. 

You were going to find him and say you’re not sure what this is, but you’re willing to try. That you believe he’s good. That you want to believe it, even if you’re scared. 

But then— 

You saw it. 

You heard something first. 

A low sound. Guttural. Like a growl tucked beneath a breath. 

And then a figure stumbling — just ahead. At the edge of the trees. A man. Drunk? Hurt? 

And beside him—  Holding him up— 

Was Sunghoon. 

Or… something that used to be him 

His head was tilted.  His lips pressed just beneath the man’s jaw.  His hands clutched the man’s shoulders too tightly.  And his eyes— 

They glowed. 

Not fully.  Just enough for the shadows to catch it. 

Red. Dim. Inhuman. 

You saw his mouth open.  Saw the flash of fang. 

And then— 

The man sagged. 

Like air had left him. 

You froze. 

Your heart punched against your ribs. 

He stared.  Still half-shadowed.  Blood on his mouth. 

He stepped forward. 

“Y/N.” 

You backed up. 

Didn’t speak. 

Didn’t breathe. 

Your eyes wide. Your expression already saying everything your voice couldn’t. 

Fear. 

The kind that wasn’t subtle. 

The kind you couldn’t take back. 

“No,” he said quietly. “No, don’t—please don’t look at me like that.” 

He wiped at his mouth. Quickly. Clumsily. 

“I can explain. It’s not—” 

You flinched when he stepped closer. 

That did it. 

He stopped. 

His hands dropped to his sides. 

And something in him… wilted. 

“So, this is it?” he whispered. 

His voice wasn’t cold.  Wasn’t sharp.  It was just… empty. 

You didn’t say anything. 

Couldn’t. 

You turned. 

And ran. 

And behind you, the last thing you heard was him whispering into the night: 

“I didn’t want you to find out like this.” 

You rushed back home and stumbled in. 

You quickly went to your bedroom, opening the drawers and pulled out your logbook. 

You sat on the floor beside your bed after grabbing a marker.  

The pages were filled with sketches. Maps. Observations.  And now? 

Scribbled question marks. Shaky handwriting. A timeline you couldn’t look at anymore. 

2010 — population: 528  2012 — 413  2015 — 290  2017 — 178  2019 — barely 60 left. 

No disease.  No evacuation orders.  No record of where they went. 

But you knew now. 

You saw it. 

His eyes. His fangs.  The man in the forest, half-drained and limp in his arms. 

You knew. 

And the truth clawed at your throat like it didn’t want to be swallowed. 

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he had said. 

You remembered his voice.  Too quiet.  Too pained to be fake. 

But it didn’t matter now, did it? 

Because while he was giving you flowers and walking you home… 

He was feeding on the people who welcomed you with tea and stories. 

You closed your eyes. 

Your hands were trembling. 

You remembered the first time you saw him. 

How unreal he looked in the moonlight.  How safe you felt beside him. 

How stupid that was now. 

Was any of it real? 

The kiss. The laughter. The jacket he left folded on your bed. 

Or were you just the next name on his list? 

The next girl to get too close? 

Were you just another pawn in his game?  

Whatever it was, you shouldn't have gotten close with him. Shouldn't have tried to interfere. You shouldn't have done it and God, you regret it.  

And for the first time in years…  You cried. 

Not from fear.  But from heartbreak. 

If only you backed down that day on the hill. If only you shouldn't have let him close to you. If only... 

September 7, 2019. 

After that day, you didn't leave your room. 

You didn't go out, the fear of him catching you always haunting your mind whenever you reach for the door handle. 

And weirdly enough, you should feel better, you really should but why did you feel... empty?  

He’s a monster! He kills innocent people, hes a vampire. But why didn't the fact alone scare you? Why were you craving for his presence? Why were you thinking about the moments you've spent together? This isn't even real. Its past, you weren't even born at this time period. You shouldn't be feeling things you aren't supposed to. 

But you can't deny the fact that your heart aches for his presence- for him.  

But you don't have time for this. Not when you have two days on your watch. Two days before everything goes back to normal, hopefully. And so, you push aside your feelings saying the time is playing tricks on you and start writing the report.  

All of your log entries, now are typed and kept in digital doc by you. You enter the log entries, from day one to the day you discovered the root cause of all of this- the dissapearance. You procrastinated too much while typing them in, thinking about all the wonderful days you’ve spent with locals- with him. 

But all of this isn't real, at the end of the day. You don't belong here- you shouldn't. This isn't your timeline. This is not your story. This isn't the reality you are supposed to live in and experience. This is just a case that you've got assigned to. It's your duty. And you fulfilled it by finding out the reason. And this is where you shall end it. End of this chapter, end of this case and end of him.  

September 9, 2019.  

Today is the day. 

You pack your bag, filling it with the things you bought and the things you are taking back to your timeline. The memories, the events and the adventures.  

There wasn't a single second you haven't thought about him. But this is it. You have to say your goodbyes.  

You can't warn the others, who haven't yet got bitten by Sunghoon. Because as dr.Han said, “Don't interfere.”  

Youve already made the mistake of not listening to him and crossed the boundary and faced the consequences. You aren't going to do it again. Because at the end of the day, its fate. It already happened. You can't change it, not even when you go back in time. Because what's written, is written. If changed, you are bound to face the consequences.  

History can't be re-written.  

And so, with that, you leave.  

You stood by the terminal light beam.  

Delta 12’s jump pulse flickering through the mist. 

Your bag beside you. Your heart heavy with no one in the future world- the real world would understand or know of.  

You turned back one last time towards the village. 

Thanking it for everything it gave you- thanking it for giving Sunghoon. 

Who'll be remembered as the passing wind and the falling of leaves by you.  

And when you jumped- 

The light swallowed you whole. 

And in the same breath,  

You were gone.  

July 22, 2090. 

You opened your eyes. 

The jump light was fading.  The room around you was cold. White. Familiar in a way that made your chest ache. 

You were home. 

But it didn’t feel like it. 

Not yet. 

Your bag was still at your side. Your fingers still trembling. Your body still in two places — the sterile floors of the lab… and the moss-soft grass beneath his feet. 

You didn’t even notice the door sliding open until you heard the softest gasp. 

“Y/N?” 

You turned. 

And there she was. 

Mira.  Her braid was undone, her coat slung over one arm, her eyes red — like she’d either just woken up… or hadn’t slept since the moment she jumped back. 

She stared at you. 

Then smiled. Weakly. 

“God, it’s you.” 

You couldn’t speak. 

You didn’t have to. 

She crossed the space between you in three quick steps and pulled you into the kind of hug you didn’t realize you needed until her arms wrapped around you. 

You felt her chest shudder. 

You were crying too. 

Soon, the others trickled in. 

Taehyun — still composed, but his eyes softer than usual.  Yuvi — who dropped her bag the second she saw you, crashing into the hug with a half-laugh, half-sob. Jungwon — who just stood by the door for a long time, taking all of you in like he didn’t believe you were real until that moment. 

No one said much at first. 

They just… stood there. 

Five people who had faced time itself. 

And came back with hearts a little heavier. 

Eyes a little older. 

It felt nice. Seeing everyone’s familiar faces after being drowned in unfamiliar faces who don't even exist in reality.  

Finally, Mira sniffed and said, voice shaking: 

“I missed you guys.” 

Yuvi let out a teary laugh. 

“I didn’t realize how much till now.” 

Jungwon gave a small nod, blinking fast. 

Taehyun just whispered: 

“You’re all here.” 

You wiped your face and smiled. 

Soft. Quiet. Real. 

“Yeah.” 

“We’re here.” 

You all look at each other. A moment of silence. As if you guys are finally taking in and registering everyone’s presence. And then, you all hugged. A big group hug filled with emotions which arent said loud but felt. And finally, you felt like you are back home.  

September 11, 2019.  

The room smelled of old circuits and sterile air.  The walls glowed faint blue, humming with quiet energy. 

You sat where you always had —  Same table.  Same lights.  Same white jackets. 

But nothing was the same anymore. 

Not the silence.  Not the weight in everyone’s eyes. 

Not the version of you that existed before. 

The door slid open. 

Dr. Han stepped in, shoulders straighter than usual, expression unreadable. 

“Good morning.” 

He stood at the edge of the circular table, clipboard in hand, eyes scanning each of you. 

“You’ve all returned safely,” he said. “On record, your missions were successful. But the records don’t matter if we don’t understand why.” 

He took a breath. 

“So, let’s talk about what really happened.” 

Dr. Han looked at Yuvi first.  

“Yuvi. March 2311. Seoul. What caused the blackout?” 

Yuvi didn’t hesitate.  But her voice was softer than usual. 

“It wasn’t just data loss,” she said. “It was deliberate. The two largest tech giants—SolarCore and NeuraStream—were engaged in a silent war for memory control. They each tried to overwrite the other’s data… and in doing so, they wiped everyone’s.” 

A pause. 

“The blackout wasn’t a glitch. It was a battle. One that made the world forget six months — and made the companies forget what humanity was.” 

Dr. Han only nodded. 

“Mira. 1652. The scribe’s ink.” 

Mira folded her hands. 

“The man wasn’t mad. The ‘sky-born woman of light’ — she was a time displacer like us. From the future. Possibly one of the early, undocumented tests.” 

She met Dr. Han’s eyes. 

“The ink? It was our ink. Synthetic. Used in lab reports.” 

Silence fell. 

Dr. Han blinked slowly. “You’re saying the anomaly… was ours.” 

“Yes,” Mira whispered. “We caused the myth.” 

“You two. Northern Territories. Duplicated villages.” 

Taehyun glanced at Jungwon. Jungwon gave a tiny nod. 

“There were two villages,” Jungwon said. “Identical. Same people. Same dogs. Same newspapers.” 

“Except,” Taehyun added, “They existed in overlapping timelines. One was five minutes behind the other. A permanent sync lag caused by a failed early prototype of time field testing.” 

Jungwon finished it quietly. 

“It was human error. A time scar. We tried to erase one. But they both kept living… until one finally collapsed.” 

“Y/N,” Dr. Han said, turning to you. “The village of Myeon-ri. The one that vanished without cause.” 

Your fingers curled slightly on the edge of the table. 

You could still feel the wind there. Still hear his voice. 

You slid the chip forward. 

“There was no disease. No mass migration. No disaster. It was slow. Intentional.” 

You looked up. 

“A predator lived there. Not wild. Human-shaped. Possibly centuries old. A vampire, by older terms. He fed carefully, spaced apart. But eventually, the numbers dropped too far.” 

The others stared. 

You didn’t flinch. 

“He didn’t want the village gone. But he couldn’t stop. And no one remembered the ones who vanished. They were erased — from memory, from databases. Like they never existed.” 

“Vampire?” Dr.Han questioned. 

“Vampire.” You confirmed.  

Dr. Han asked, quietly: 

“Did he know who you were?” 

A pause. 

You met his gaze. 

“No.” 

A beat. 

“But I think I knew who he used to be.” 

You lied. Of course he knows you. He knows the woman he fell for the first time. He knows the woman who was his first ever kiss. 

You didn't tell them. You didn't to protect him and in a way, protect yourself too. 

Dr. Han stepped back. He looked at each of you — not as scientists, but as people who had seen too much. 

“You all did what centuries of historians couldn’t. You brought back truth.” 

He turned toward the exit, then paused. 

“Take the week off. Rest. File clean versions by the end of the month. We’ll… figure out what to do with the rest.” 

The door hissed closed behind him. 

And you all sat in silence.  Hearts still somewhere in another time. 

The streets are quiet at 2 a.m. 

Neon signs buzz in blues and pinks.  Artificial rain shimmers above, falling against projection domes that keep your coat dry. 

You pass a street musician playing a slow guitar. 

The song is unfamiliar.  But it feels like him. 

Like a song you might’ve danced to on his porch.  Or hummed under your breath while he walked you home. 

Your throat tightens. 

You sit on a bench, ignoring your holopad as it pings with follow-up requests from Dr. Han. 

You can’t open the file.  You can’t even look at his name on the case label. 

Your hand slowly reaches into your coat pocket. 

The jacket he gave you is long gone. 

But you still have one thing. 

A pressed leaf. 

Red. From that tree near the hill.  Where he waited for you every evening.  Where he said nothing — just smiled — like you were his favorite moment of the day. 

You hold the leaf to your chest. 

And for a second…  you close your eyes. 

And pretend he’s sitting beside you. 

Back in the lab, the report still sits unsaved.  You’d written everything except the truth. 

“He didn’t follow me back.” 

But your chest burns with what you didn’t say. 

I think he wanted to.  I think I wanted him to.  And I think I left the part of me that believed in forever… in his hands. 

You missed him. You looked for him in everything. The wind, the leaves, the clouds, the time, everything. And somewhere back in 2019, sunghoon feels the weight of your absence.  

Sunghoon didn't really think it'd affect him that much, but it did. He was helpless when he didn't find you. Asked everyone, searched everywhere but there wasn't a trace of you, there wasn't a thing left behind you. And God, did he miss you.  

The silence after you was worse than the centuries before you. 

You were only here a month —  But the air still tasted like you.  The breeze still moved like the hem of your coat. 

He stood by the river. 

The same one you almost slipped near.  The one where he caught your hand. 

You used to laugh here. 

Now it was empty. 

And so was he. 

His throat burned.  The ache that had quieted in your presence — like your scent tamed the storm in his blood — now returned with wildfire in his veins. 

He hadn’t fed in days.  He didn’t want anyone else. 

He wanted you. 

"Y/N..." he whispered, though the name felt like poison now. 

He tried to hold back.  He really, truly did. 

But you were gone. 

And he had nothing left to prove he was still human. 

The next night, they found the baker's house empty.  Then the woman who sold herbs.  Then the elder by the hill. 

No one saw what took them. 

And Sunghoon? 

He stood in the village center, blood drying at the corner of his mouth, eyes still locked on the road you used to walk down every dusk. 

His hands shook. 

His mouth trembled. 

"You were supposed to stay..."  "You promised me forever in your eyes." 

But you didn’t answer. 

Because you were gone. 

And so were the people in the village.  

The village lingered with only with him feeding off of everyone and your presence.  

Time moved on. 

The village eventually collapsed.  Records rewritten.  Footprints washed away. 

But he didn’t vanish. 

He moved.  Fed.  Lingered in shadows. 

Years passed.  Decades blurred. 

He watched the world crawl toward neon skies and cities that blinked like stars. 

You were long gone.  But he never stopped believing in the possibility that time — the very thing that tore you from him — might one day return you. 

“Okay but hear me out,” Taehyun says, typing aggressively while Mira tries to slap his hand off the panel. “If I didn’t reroute the carbon filters that night, we’d all be bald. Fact.” 

“Fact?” Mira scoffs. “Fact is you nearly made the algae tank sentient. That thing winked at me.” 

“I still miss it,” Jungwon adds quietly, head down in his own files, a faint smile playing at his lips. 

Yuvi kicks her chair back dramatically, groaning. “My simulation’s stuck again. If I see one more ‘Data Error: Please Restart,’ I swear I’ll throw myself into the code.” 

Your lips curve as you watch them — the way the five of you fit into this space like puzzle pieces.  The room hums with soft tech glows and distant rain tapping the glass walls. 

It's late.  But none of you seem in a hurry to leave. 

Mira throws an energy bar at Taehyun. He catches it one-handed, smug.  Jungwon’s quietly stealing Yuvi’s half-charged mug again.  You just watch — feeling both part of it and… a little removed. 

Because they didn’t live what you lived.  Not the way you did. 

Not with him. 

Not with Sunghoon. 

“You good?” Yuvi asks you suddenly, turning in her chair. 

You blink. “Yeah. Just… tired.” 

“Duh,” she says, nudging your arm. “We’re all tired. End of world stuff every Tuesday.” 

You laugh. The others join in.  And just for a second, it feels normal. 

Like the past didn't follow you here.  Like he never reached across time. 

But the quiet ache in your chest says otherwise. 

Later, when the lab empties out one by one — when Yuvi yawns and Mira packs up her files —  you linger behind. 

Taehyun walks past you, ruffling your hair gently like he always does. Jungwon side hugs you as he exits. And Mira and Yuvi give you a hug before logging off.  

Then the lights dim.  The labs settle.  And you finally move. 

It was almost midnight. 

Your body was running on caffeine, adrenaline, and a half-shattered mind.  The labs were quiet. The halls were colder. Your coat clung to your shoulders, and all you wanted was silence. 

You stepped into the elevator. 

It was empty. Or—  so you thought. 

You didn’t even notice him at first. 

Not until the doors closed.  Not until the world narrowed into this steel box.  And not until a voice — low, aching, quiet — cut through the air like a thread snapping in your chest. 

“You didn’t even say goodbye.” 

You froze. 

Slowly, your eyes turned toward the figure standing in the far corner. 

And there he was. 

Sunghoon. 

Pressed against the wall of the elevator, the overhead light casting a cold glow across his skin.  His white dress shirt clung perfectly across his chest — sleeves rolled just below his elbows, forearms tense. His black tie was loose, like he’d worn it all day just to see you like this. 

His head was tilted slightly down, shadows covering half of his face — but even in the dimness, you saw it. 

The red.  Faint. Glowing. Watching. 

His jaw clenched. His lashes heavy against his cheek. His entire body still, like he was trying not to shake. 

Like just standing here, in front of you, took everything he had left. 

Your mouth opened. Nothing came out. 

He finally looked up.  Right at you. 

“You disappeared,” he said softly.  A step closer. 

“But I didn’t.” 

Another step. 

“I stayed. I searched.” 

His voice trembles. 

“And I waited.” 

He stops inches away from you. Close enough for you to see that his hands are shaking.  That his smile is breaking.  That the pain he’s carried all these years hasn’t dulled — only buried deeper. 

Your lips part, but no words come. 

Because what do you say to a man who waited seventy-one years for a goodbye? 

Your body doesn’t move. But he does. 

He steps forward — slowly — like if he moves too fast, you’ll vanish all over again. 

Then his hand lifts. And he touches you. 

Not roughly. Not hungrily. 

Just one cold, steady hand cupping your cheek — reverent. Careful.  The way he always touched you. Like you were something sacred. 

His other hand rests at your waist, pulling you gently toward him. 

Your breath hitches. 

His eyes flicker down to your lips, then back to your eyes. 

“I missed you,” he whispers. 

His thumb brushes your skin — and only then, do you exhale. 

But your voice barely comes out. 

“How… how did you get in here?” 

His smile twitches — half amused, half ruined. 

“You’re not the only one who learns things in seventy years.” 

You stare at him. 

“You broke into the lab?” 

“No,” he murmurs. “I learned how to become a ghost in systems like these. Took years. But I found my way into every firewall with your name on it. Every door you walked through.” 

He leans in just slightly — not threatening. Not desperate. 

Just there. Real. Close. 

“I wasn’t going to leave without seeing you again.” 

No matter how many years it’s been —  no matter how far you ran into the future — 

he still found you. 

He holds you like a memory he never let go of.  Like a secret he kept alive for decades. 

And when he finally speaks —  his voice cracks. 

“Tell me you didn’t forget me.” 

You blink.  Your lips part, but no sound comes out. 

Because how do you explain the sleepless nights?  The dreams where he touched your hand again?  The jacket you almost replicated just to feel close? 

He waits. 

And when you don’t answer — when silence sits between you like a second goodbye — you hear it again: 

“Y/N…”  “Tell me you didn’t forget me.” 

You look up at him then. 

And the glow in his eyes — the faint red warmth — flickers. 

Flickers like it’ll die if you lie. 

Your throat is tight. 

“How did you even find me?” you whisper. 

He smiles — not the charming one.  The broken one. 

“I never stopped looking.” 

A beat. 

“The village disappeared, but I didn’t. I moved. I adapted. I learned your world. I followed every digital trail you left behind. I memorized your voice. I traced you through five corporate systems and twenty years of noise.” 

His forehead leans into yours, almost touching. 

“You left without saying goodbye.”  “I needed to know… if it meant as much to you as it did to me.” 

You’re not breathing. 

Because in his voice — beneath the stillness, the eternal youth —  is pain. 

Not monstrous. Not violent. 

Just human. And heartbreakingly yours. 

Your hands move without thinking.  One rises to his chest — over where his heart used to beat. 

It’s quiet now.  But yours is loud enough for both of you. 

He’s still waiting. 

Eyes glowing.  Breath held. 

“Tell me,” He whispers again. “Tell me you didn’t forget me.” 

You swallow. 

Tears sting the edges of your eyes — the kind you refused to cry back then. The kind you buried inside lab reports and daily logs. 

And finally, your voice breaks. 

“I didn’t forget.” 

He closes his eyes, just for a second. Like the words hurt. Like they heal. 

“I just…” you breathe, “I just didn’t know how to come back.” 

There it is. 

The truth. 

The full, naked truth sitting between you —  soft and devastating. 

“I didn’t know if I could. If I should. If you were even—” 

He kisses you. 

Not rushed.  Not hungry. 

Just… quiet. Desperate. Familiar. 

The kind of kiss that says thank you for surviving. 

The kind that says don’t leave again. 

it feels like time folds in on itself. 

Like the wind from the village,  the rain on your skin,  the jacket on your shoulders,  the words you never said —  they all return in that one breath. 

And this time,  you kiss him back. 

Hands gripping the front of his coat, your breath catching —  like your body finally remembered what safety tasted like. 

He pulls you in closer, desperate,  like he still doesn’t believe you’re real.  Like you’ll vanish again if he lets go. 

When your lips part, and you both breathe — barely —  your forehead leans into his. 

The glow in his eyes softens. 

And then— 

“You…” your voice cracks, soft and shaking.  “You waited? For me?” 

His eyes close slowly. 

Not like he’s in pain —  but like your question alone undid him. 

“Of course I did,” he whispers.  “How could I not?” 

You inhale sharply,  because no one’s ever said it like that. 

Not with that kind of certainty.  Like your existence was never forgettable —  just… unforgettable. 

“You… waited? For me?” 

His eyes flutter shut — like your voice, your doubt, undoes something deep in him. 

“Of course I did,” he murmurs, forehead still resting against yours.  “How could I not?” 

That’s when the tears come. 

You didn’t mean to.  You weren’t even sure they were still inside you. 

But suddenly, your eyes burn. 

And your voice falls out in pieces. 

“I thought…” your lips tremble.  “I thought you moved on.”  “Thought you’d forget me.” 

His arms tighten around you instantly — like he can feel you breaking and is ready to hold every shattered piece. 

“I couldn’t,” he says.  “I wouldn’t.” 

Your eyes meet again, and he says it like a vow: 

“I loved you in 2019. I loved you in every year after.  Even the ones where you weren’t there.” 

“You… waited? For me?” 

His eyes flutter shut — like your voice, your doubt, undoes something deep in him. 

“Of course I did,” he murmurs, forehead still resting against yours.  “How could I not?” 

That’s when the tears come. 

You didn’t mean to.  You weren’t even sure they were still inside you. 

But suddenly, your eyes burn. 

And your voice falls out in pieces. 

“I thought…” your lips tremble.  “I thought you moved on.”  “Thought you’d forget me.” 

His arms tighten around you instantly — like he can feel you breaking and is ready to hold every shattered piece. 

“I couldn’t,” he says.  “I wouldn’t.” 

Your eyes meet again, and he says it like a vow: 

“I loved you in 2019. I loved you in every year after.  Even the ones where you weren’t there.” 

And just like that—  you stepped into him. 

Your arms wrapped around his torso tight, face burying into his chest, body trembling from everything you’d held back for too long. 

And he— 

He didn’t hesitate. 

He wrapped his arms around you so firmly, so protectively, it almost hurt.  Like if the world tried to take you again, it would have to tear through him first. 

One arm locked around your waist.  The other curled high around your back, hand cradling the base of your neck — fingers gently gripping, anchoring you like he was afraid you’d disappear again. 

“You’re here,” he breathed.  “You’re really here.” 

He didn’t just hold you. 

He claimed you — not with force, but with everything he never got to say. 

This wasn’t a soft embrace. 

This was the way you hold something sacred.  The way you cling to a miracle. 

And for the first time after he met in seventy years,  he didn’t feel cold anymore. 

He held you like you were his whole world —  like everything he endured, every year he starved, every time he nearly gave up…  was worth it just to feel you in his arms again. 

And for a long, still moment —  you didn’t speak. 

You just breathed.  Chest rising against his.  The faint, unfamiliar sound of his heartbeat echoing somewhere far beneath. 

Then, into the quiet, barely louder than a breath— 

“I missed this,” you whispered, cheek pressed against his chest.  “I missed you.” 

His hand gripped you tighter, almost instinctively.  Like your words shattered something inside him he didn’t even know was still breakable. 

He didn’t say anything at first. 

But you felt it —  in the way his thumb moved slowly against your back,  in the way his body trembled just slightly against yours. 

“Say it again,” he murmured. 

You tilted your head just slightly, looked up into those red-flecked eyes that had waited decades for this. 

And this time, you didn’t whisper. 

“I missed you, Sunghoon.” 

He looked at you, cupped your face with both of his hands with so much of care as if you were porcelain and would break if you added any more force.  

He kissed your forehead like it was the only language he had left. 

Slow.  Tender.  Devastating. 

Your eyes fluttered shut — his lips lingering just a heartbeat longer, like he couldn’t quite let go. 

And when he finally pulled back, just far enough to look at you again —  his voice cracked through the silence. 

“Don’t leave me this time…”  A pause. A breath.  “Angel.” 

The name hit you harder than the kiss. 

Because that’s what he used to call you.  Back in the village.  When your hands were cold from the rain, and he’d wrap his jacket around you like you were something worth saving. 

You blinked back the sting in your eyes.  But he saw it.  Of course he did.  His thumb brushed just beneath your eye. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured.  “Just… stay.” 

©mrsjjongstby all writing belong to me. do not copy, modify or repost my works.

taglist: @gnarlyhoons @stormlit-pages @himynameisraelynn @see-c @shra-vasti @heesbbygurl @elikajinnie (lmk if u wanna be added!)

A/N: im backkkkkkkkkk y'allllllllllllll !!!!!!!!! also this thing has been keeping me from watching the outside mv so imma watch it now! ALSO WROTE THIS THING IN 2 DAYS LIKE WTH i cant believe i did tht. anyways enjoy and stay hydrated!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[s0s1mple]

Peripheral - Park Sunghoon

Part 2

TW: General yandere behavior, implied captivity, social isolation, implied threat and danger, power imbalance

Masterlist -- Part 1

As Sunghoon led you down the corridor, grip firm around yours, you couldn't help but notice the difference in your hands. Yours were still covered in bits of flour and sugar, palms marked with the years of manual labor you did on your parents farm. Sunghoon's? Surprisingly calloused, enough to show that he was trained in combat as most princes were. But they were also smooth, well-maintained and manicured, looking just as flawless as the rest of him.

You couldn't help but feel it was wrong to be touching him. To be this close. To apparently be known, to be seen, to be loved, supposedly.

Those words had put you into a bit of a daze, truthfully. What on earth was he talking about? You'd never talked before, had hardly even seen him before, and here he was saying he loved you? And with such a tender look in his eye too, like you hung the stars. It was bewildering, confusing, and made you uneasy. Surely he meant he loved you as a subject, right? That he loved all his subjects? But that obviously wasn't true either, given the three people he'd just had sent to the gallows for something as small as an eggshell.

"Here we are." You were pulled back to reality by Sunghoon's voice. He'd stopped before a door in a wing you'd never been to in your life. It was large, oaken, carved with intricate patterns. "That there belongs to my sister, but otherwise my parents never had other children. The room next to mine is vacant. You're free to stay there, since you'll be my personal attendant." He pointed to the door across the way, a door carved with delicate flowers in contrast to his more jagged designs, and then to the neighboring door devoid of carvings.

You swallowed thickly, a little overwhelmed. "Oh, uh, but I'm just a servant. Surely I can't stay in such a wing... it would be improper, right?" You said weakly. And really, you weren't lying. This was all so ornate, and the idea of moving from your familiar living quarters wasn't ideal. You craved comfort. Even if there were the softest pillows known to man in these rooms, you knew it would most certainly not feel comfortable.

Not like home.

But Sunghoon just smiled, seemingly amused, and released your hand to gently pat your shoulder. "Of course you'll stay there. If you're my attendant, a royal attendant, you deserve it." He tilted his head. It sounded like he was doing a favor, but you could hear the finality in his voice. This was going to happen. So you nodded weakly, unsure of what else to do, and he opened his door.

Then you were pulled inside, ushered into a chair near a window. Stunned at the idea of being moved so easily into a male's chambers, much less a prince's chambers, you squeaked a little in surprise. Beautiful views over the entire kingdom, expensive curtains, silver-laden furniture, a bed almost the size of your quarters, and an opulent chandelier. You didn't know what to do other than ogle at it all.

Sunghoon's eyes creased as he watched your head swivel. He called for a maidservant. A minute later, a maidservant walked in. That actually made you relax a little, your thoughts swirling again. She'd gotten here so swiftly, swift enough to where she had to be situated in the same wing. Maybe you weren't in as strange a situation as you thought. Maybe it was just normal to occupy the rooms around here. You'd have to talk to your fellow maidservant soon, ask for some tips and tricks for the role you'd been unceremoniously shoved int-

Your line of thinking was disturbed by Sunghoon's words. "You must be tired. You're free to use my chambers while I have your belongings brought to your new room. My maidservant will see that you get cleaned up and freshened for bed." Then he crouched slightly, down to your level, meeting your eyes with those intense ones of his. You flinched back slightly as his hand rose. He didn't pay it any mind, just gently rubbing the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone. Flour came away, and he chuckled lightly. "Can't have this wonderful chef of mine looking anything less than perfect, can we?" And like nothing happened, Sunghoon straightened back up and turned to address the maidservant. Instantly, his demeanor changed back to that Sunghoon you'd heard of, that you'd seen in the main hall. Dismissive, haughty, larger than life.

So much for this not being special treatment. You felt a headache coming on with how much you were stressing.

"Bring her some suitable clothing. She's had a long day, so make sure it's comfortable. Something from my sister's insanely massive wardrobe should do."

"Y-Your sister, your majesty?"

"Didn't I just say that? She won't miss it, and nothing else is nice enough for my chef on such short notice." Sunghoon's calm, cold voice spiked a little bit. A subtle bit of irritation, enough to make the maidservant bow in half to apologize and agree. "I'll leave you two now. Anything you need, you tell my servant." Then his tone was right back to that warmth, that more emotional voice as he spoke to you.

And then he was gone, and you were left with the maidservant. She seemed suitably confused by you for a moment, all covered in kitchen ingredients, before she was ushering you to the bathroom with an inscrutable look. "Um, I can get myself cleaned up." You tried, giving a smile to your fellow worker.

She didn't smile back. Instead just bowed her head and continued to draw you a bath. "His majesty told me to help you, and so I must. I apologize, my lady."

"O-Oh, you can just call me by my name..." You tried again, now more awkward. You were desperate for that casual talk, that cheerful discussion you had with other workers, but she was giving you nothing. Like you were above her in status now. Like you were high society. It felt indescribably alienating.

"Of course, my lady." You stopped trying after that. Her tone was polite, but there was a layer of frustration under it that told you to stop asking. She had her job to do, and she was going to do it. For fear of... something.

You were helped into the nicest silk nightgown you'd ever laid your eyes on, the material feeling like cool air against your skin. And then you were pulled to the room next door, let in, and the maidservant fluffed your pillows while you shuffled around unsurely. Sure enough, Sunghoon had had your things brought up. There were very few belongings, but most importantly you were happy to see your childhood toy. A small stuffed penguin your father had gotten when he worked as a crewmate for a ship and traveled to the northern kingdoms.

The comforter was like clouds, the pillow unfathomably soft, and yet it was only that token of home that pulled you into unconsciousness.

When Sunghoon returned to his wing after sorting some other matters out, it was not his own door that he approached. Instead, he waltzed over to the guard he'd set outside of your door. "Is she asleep?"

"I would hope so, your majesty. She went inside and hasn't made a peep since eleven."

Sunghoon hummed and, without much hesitation, gently opened the door. In he went, steps slow and quiet, unsure of how light of a sleeper you were. The moon filtered through the grand window, striking across the carpet like an arrow pointing directly to the thing he treasured most. Its light shone over the gentle slope of your neck and the delicate skin of your collarbone. The way your chest rose and fell, the ratty penguin plush clutched between your fingers, the way your hair looked against the sheets...

Sunghoon felt enchanted, his legs moving on their own, pulling him closer into orbit like it was he who was the moon. You his entire world.

His fingers danced over your hair, flitted over your shoulder, traced your collar and rested at the base of your neck. He smiled. He could imagine how sweet you would look dressed to the nines in the finest jewelry money could buy. Diamonds, sapphires, jade, garnet, or maybe...?

His palm against the curve of your neck?

A fleeting kiss to your forehead, even such a brush of skin making his brain erupt into a cloud of butterflies, and Sunghoon tore himself from your side. Doing such a thing felt like peeling a part of himself away, but he soothed himself with the thought of when you would inevitably sleep at his sight. Would cuddle into his arms. Sunghoon could be patient, could wait until you snuggled to him on your own.

At least for now.

In the coming weeks, a new normal began. You'd wake up at the same time you always did, the routine of waking up to bake bread early in the morning ingrained into you. You'd step outside, greet the guard by name and ask how he was, and receive no suitable response. So you'd sigh, feeling lonelier than ever, and simply tell him to fetch the maidservant.

You didn't want to force her to help you with things you could very easily do on your own, but she insisted. She had almost yelled at you the first time you didn't call her, not out of anger but out of fear. A wild sort of fear that only intensified when she realized she'd used such a harsh tone with you.

You'd only comforted her once you told her you wouldn't be notifying Sunghoon.

Then you were dressed in flattering clothes very much unbefitting of your supposed role in the castle. Beautiful fabrics, impeccably tailored dresses, full of frills and stitches you didn't even know the name of. Then your hair was primped, your face washed and done up in elegant concoctions you'd never seen in your life or experienced prior to Sunghoon's intervention. Never enough to mar your features, but enough to make you look like you weren't one of the other staff.

Another thing that separated you.

In the next hour, Sunghoon would wake up. Or at the very least, he'd be done with getting ready for the day. From what you'd gathered through context clues, it seemed he'd had the guard notify him the instant you requested the maidservant. He'd gotten a new maidservant to help him get ready, effectively passing off the previous one to be under you, and such a fact was one you tried your best to ignore.

Then you'd greet Sunghoon in the hall. You'd bow, curtsey, and he'd always chuckle a little as he urged you to relax or muttered that you behaving in such a way was cute.

You ignored that too.

Instead, you asked what he wanted for breakfast. He'd tell you, luckily, and you'd take a bit of relief in having something normal to do. Down to the kitchens you went, Sunghoon walking alongside you. The staff would straighten up, initially startled by his presence in the kitchens until they too became accustomed to the routine.

You had your own table now, your own tools and your own luxury ingredients. Your own schedule. Your own space that nobody else touched. Not the friends you'd chat with so frequently before, not the dessert makers you snagged cookies from, not the waiters you'd become so close with... No, they all avoided you like the plague. Especially because Sunghoon seemed to like you work.

He'd pull up a chair next to your station and watch you. He'd ask questions, pointing out ingredients he wasn't familiar and asking why you were using it. He'd tell you certain things he liked and didn't, sometimes even attempting to help you by stirring a pot or peeling something, and he'd chuckle and grin whenever you were a little clumsy. Fondly, domestically, like your mother and father used to be in the kitchen.

It was familiar, oddly comforting in that familiarity, but also corrupted by the strange relationship and circumstance. You didn't know how you felt about it.

He'd eat, inviting you to eat alongside him. Eventually, you tried making two servings so you didn't feel as if you were eating off his plate, but he didn't seem to like that. So, you'd been coaxed back into a single plate, the male taking some sort of pleasure in hand feeding you on occasion.

Then it would be on to whatever it was Sunghoon had to do that day. Sometimes private training with the head knight, sometimes walking down to the city to discuss matters with different lords, and sometimes signing orders in his office. All in all, most days were calm. Unhurried. A lot of it was standing at Sunghoon's side, quiet and waiting for him to ask for something. It was strange, how even your mere presence at his side had Sunghoon seeming to be in a brighter mood. He'd smile more, he'd be more lenient on punishments, even be more open to signing certain requests from peasants if you expressed even a mild interest in the subject. It was even stranger how he didn't request much of you, just asking clarifying questions or making conversation about your life. Instead, he'd even call for other maids to fetch things like tea when it was supposedly your job to do that.

But all the same, he was also crueler with you around.

The lords he would meet with would initially be confused by your presence, never immediately reading you as the servant you were. They'd see your impeccable hair, your rich clothing, and they'd move forward with a polite smile to kiss the back of your hand and greet you. Sunghoon would tense, but would just smile tightly and accept the motion. But if they tried to talk to you, tried to ask anything of you, or god forbid expressed interest? Gone was the cold, calm Sunghoon. In his place was a different version of the Prince, his eyes sharp and spine-chilling, his motions jerky and still like he was refraining from violence. And it would hum through the air, a silent warning that had others recoiling, feeling whatever the hell it was that hid just below the prince's beautiful face.

It scared you too. But even so, to tell the truth, there was a strange sort of empowerment in it. Like you too were untouchable. You hated the loneliness, the way people tiptoed around you, the friends you'd lost... but at the same time, entitled lords and snide mistresses wouldn't bother you. They'd catch a glimpse of Sunghoon and flee with a rushed apology, and Sunghoon would appear at your side with a smile and a gentle request for you to do some small task.

Always to get you out of the room so he could discuss some matter with that person. You didn't pry. You didn't want to know.

Sunghoon was impossibly tender with you, like he was already your fiance or husband. Because really, you did understand what he wanted from you. How could you not? The lovesick eyes, the special treatment, the protectiveness... you knew what it was. Problem was, it was just to an insane degree. A clawing, yearning, infectious sort of love. Something you weren't sure what to do with when you were who you were and he was who he was.

A prince and a servant.

One day, you returned to your room to find something different. It wasn't immediately obvious, but as you moved to your bed you saw it. Your penguin was... fixed.

Its ratty form was smooth, all the pilling fabric plucked away. The stuffing was nowhere to be seen, the threads pulled back together immaculately. Its glass eyes were replaced with beautiful onyx stones. You held it gingerly, looking it up and down, and something in you broke a little. It had you rushing out of the room right back to where Sunghoon was getting ready to enter his own. He paused, a little surprised by your reappearance as you shoved the stuffed animal before him.

"Huh?" He was momentarily confused. "Oh, your penguin. I saw it was falling apart at the edges, and since you like it so much I had a seamstress fix it up." Sunghoon said softly. Your lip trembled a bit, and the sight of it had his eyes widening and hands moving forth like he wanted to comfort you.

"Thank you. I- I appreciate it, Sunghoon." You bowed your head slightly, tone respectful as always despite the rush of emotions hitting you like a truck. But he froze, blinking at you in shock. For the first time, you'd referred to him without his title. He'd been trying to coax such a thing out of you for the whole time he'd known you, and here you were finally allowing him into your circle.

He just smiled lightly then, eyes shining with that overwhelming devotion, and gently grasped your hand. He pressed your palm to his cheek, his head leaning into your touch, and his eyes slid shut for a moment as he took a deep breath. "Of course. Thank you." He breathed.

Thank you for letting me out of your peripherals, my queen.

tags: @ferjinyoungiee, @saraabbas, @chyukiz,

A/N: hehe a little surprise drop. Promise I'm still trying to get through reqs, I just had a sudden burst of inspo for this one and I already made the header anyways.

[s0s1mple]

since heeseung and sunoo have no requests, how about hee or sunoo and reader in a royal setting, except he is arranged to marry reader's bestfriend but he slowly falls for the reader after seeing her almost everywhere with his fiance because she is the one who chaperones all their dates and is really close and clingy with the princess he is set to marry. you could do it with the member you think it fits the most!

I just got a req for Sunoo, so I'll do it for Heeseung! Tbf I got the feeling this would fit him better anyhow, so thank you for the req! Here you are! (Also apologies if you didn’t want a Yandere piece! If you didn’t want this, just let me know and I’ll rewrite accordingly!)

Surface Level - Lee Heeseung

TW: General yandere behavior, blackmail, political threats, political dealings, occupation of a kingdom, kidnapping, power imbalance, slight gore.

Masterlist

Heeseung didn't care one way or the other when he was told he was to be wed. He'd been raised with such an expectation, so it was hardly surprising. He was a prince, and his bloodline had to continue. Luckily, he wasn't exactly expected to have kids just yet, but his people needed a wedding. They needed a promise that their rulers reign was secure. Personally, Heeseung didn’t care too much about the matter for that reason.

So Heeseung went to meet his fiancé. It was a whole affair, their first meeting. A tea beneath the gazebo out on his castle grounds, butlers at the ready, the most expensive food money could buy... Supposedly this fiancé of his was the princess of a neighboring island, normally a small fish of a kingdom far beneath the likes of his family, but Heeseung was well aware that his father wanted some form of control over the market and ports there. So, as most marriages were, this was a political move.

Heeseung had an appreciation for such political moves of course, but if his fiancé was unattractive or rude, he was going to be pissed. If he was going to be tied to someone against his will, they’d better at least look good next to him. Not that Heeseung was particularly surface-level as a person, of course, but his family had an image to maintain. Strong, beautiful, deserving of their titles. If they didn’t fulfill that image to the people, they might doubt their leaders’ connections to the gods. That was the story their kingdom’s royalty had been built off of, after all.

Heeseung sighed, walking up to the gazebo. The butlers and guards stood at the ready around the staircases, bowing respectfully, and Heeseung paid them a greeting grin before walking up. There, at the table set up with great pastries and the finest teas they had, was a woman. For a moment, Heeseung was taken aback.

She was gorgeous. Flowing brown hair, big wide doe-eyes that sparkled in the light, clear skin and sitting so prettily. He felt himself relax as he walked forth to bow respectfully. “Princess Rin? It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He smiled his usual welcoming smile, kissing her hand as she held it out. “I hope you’ve been finding your time in our kingdom to your liking?”

“Oh yes! It’s wonderful!” And her voice too was like that of a doll’s, tinkling and sweet. For a moment, Heeseung thanked the gods for such good political fortune. He took a seat then, offering to serve her some pastries, and their small-talk began.

Truth be told, Heeseung was never a big fan of small talk. It was pointless, in his opinion. Anxiety-inducing, even. How the hell were you supposed to know someone from it? But he sat there and did it anyways, and almost breathed a sigh of further relief when he finally had indication to be more personal. “So, have you seen the markets yet? They’re one of our pride and joys.”

Heeseung loved the markets. They were his stomping ground for his childhood, the place where he ducked and ran amongst colorful produce to throw off his guards and get some alone time. As an adult, it was his place to get to know his people, to appeal to them with his bright smiles and soft gaze.

“The markets? The ones near the grand church?” A new voice piped up then, causing Heeseung’s head to turn in surprise. Someone new had joined them, and given the lack of hustle from the guards were meant to be there. You stood there, slightly shy as you bowed your head to him, but grinned excitedly all the same. “Apologies for interrupting, I just wanted to announce my arrival. But also, the markets are so wonderful! I went by yesterday and… uh… never mind.” Your smile faded as you realized you were rambling and you bowed again.

“Ah, this is my chaperone. And my close friend, of course.” Princess Rin chimed in to explain the situation, and you nodded vigorously before sitting down at her side. Ah, the chaperone. He’d almost forgotten such a thing. Apparently, in the culture of the princess’s kingdom, it was improper to court without a chaperone present, especially for royals. Heeseung nodded, offering a smile to you. He almost asked what your favorite part was, wanting to be polite before returning to his fiancé, but Princess Rin already was speaking again. She wrinkled her nose. “And the markets? You mean the one the peasants attend? Really, you shouldn’t have run off there. What if you got some disease or something?”

Heeseung paused, barely keeping the bewilderment off his face. Here Rin was, so beautiful and elegant, and yet her face had just twisted into a disgusted sneer at the mere idea of brushing elbows with his people. There was a small awkward silence where you blushed, quietly acknowledging the comment before placing your hands in your lap. His eyes darted to you then, at the way your enthusiasm wilted before the princess.

Heeseung did not like that.

And, he soon found out, there were plenty more things he didn’t like about this Princess Rin. He didn’t like her screechy laugh, didn’t like the way she tried hard to be cute and to fall into his arms like it was some romance novel. He didn’t like the way she dismissed his guards and maids, didn’t like the way she threw things willy-nilly and didn’t clean up after herself, and certainly didn’t like the disgust that painted her features whenever he brought up memories from childhood or interactions with his people.

So beautiful on the outside, and so hideous on the inside.

And strangely, despite you being referred to as her best friend or closest confidant or any of those other words, you were completely the opposite. It wasn’t that you were ugly, in fact that was hardly the case. But you were normal looking. That sort of village square look, like the dancers he’d seen on his trips to festivals. Like those same dancers, you were full of life. Lively, smiley, happy to enjoy every aspect of life no matter how it was perceived and even happier to make others happy.

It was you who asked questions about his kingdom, you who tried all of the local delicacies without wrinkling your nose, you who tried to learn some of the old tongue, and you who bowed just as deeply to his favorite butler as you did to him.

Slowly, day after day, Heeseung was really beginning to want to send Rin back to her island and just keep you at his side instead. Anything to send that annoying witch away. Anything to keep your giggles and smiles right beside him, not dampened by your princess’s- supposedly your friend’s- cutting glares when you got too happy or too talkative.

A strange sort of protectiveness formed then, more than likely thanks to Rin’s behavior yet again. God, he hated how much you bent to her will. Sure, you were lower in ranking, but for her to act so friendly one second and then cackle a tad too cruelly when you were embarrassed or sad?

Disgusting.

You were so much more comfortable with him when the two of you were alone, which was rare. But he’d been trying to set up more opportunities for such interactions. Telling you to meet him one place, telling Rin another, and then pretending it was just an accident as the two of you walked to find her. He’d make small talk then, asking about your home, your family, your dreams. You’d light up like a star. Heeseung couldn’t keep the smile off his face, couldn’t stop the blooming in his chest.

How he wanted to wake up next to your warmth every morning instead.

He knew rationally he couldn’t do such a thing. You were too low in standing, after all. But subconsciously, he’d already begun to court you instead. Helping you down the stairs whenever he could, guiding you with a hand to the lower back, gentle and ginger… Hell, he’d even begun to find himself picking out gifts. Not with Rin in mind, no, but you.

Just like your personalities, you and Rin’s tastes were opposites as well. When it came to gifts, Heeseung took advantage of that fact. He’d deliver a gift to Rin, watch her smile that fake smile and accept it, before seeing the bracelet or ring on you the next day. Passed off like garbage, when you were the intended recipient all along anyways. You were infinitely more grateful anyways, always pulling the bracelets from under your sleeves discreetly to fiddle and admire them.

At a certain point, when the feelings grew heavy and explosive in his chest, he couldn’t hide it anymore. He blatantly stared at you as Rin babbled, walked by your side, tried to gently steer you away from Rin and spend time with you instead… Rin wasn’t stupid, and she was very obviously upset by such matters, but Heeseung couldn’t bring himself to care. Not even when she complained to her father, and her father to his father in turn. He was warned, of course, but Heeseung paid it no mind.

No, when you were around Heeseung was little more than a loyal follower. He’d never seen himself as yearning or a romantic, and yet here he was mentally playing through what your royal wedding would be like. Here he was wondering how soft and warm and inviting you would look beneath the candles, beneath him, all snuggly pressed into the comforters. How sweet that perfume he’d bought you would smell as he nuzzled your neck…

But reality came crashing down, and as per usual it was due to that witch Princess Rin. She’d finally had enough one early evening. Heeseung had cracked a joke he knew would make you laugh. First Princess Rin laughed, awkward and stilted because their humor was nothing alike, before you burst into a cacophony of giggles. Heeseung had leaned in then, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and brushing away a fly-away. As per usual with such gestures, you smiled shyly and your eyes darted nervously to your Princess. But this time, she erupted.

“Oh would you stop putting your fucking arms around her? God, is this some way to try to get me jealous or something? You already have me, no need to go entertaining the help.” She sneered, glare just as annoyed and disgusted as ever. Heeseung paused, brows shooting Jo in surprise, and he felt you tense up beneath his arm.

“I- please remove your arm, your highness?” You squeaked. Heeseung rolled his eyes and held fast.

“Trying to make you jealous? I couldn’t give less of a shit about you. For all I care, you can go right back to your kingdom since you seem to hate mine so much.” He said back, smile kept carefully in place amongst his too-cheerful tone. “You are possibly one of the most annoying humans I’ve ever met.”

Incredulousness. Hurt. Then rage. It was not him she wheeled on then, but you. And that wouldn’t do at all. “Have you been seducing my fiance? You whore! After all I’ve given you too! You were nothing without me and now you think you’re going to steal a prince, do you? God, what was I thinking entertaining someone like you, you waste of-“

Smack.

Heeseung had stood up suddenly, hand whipping through the air. Princess Rin stumbled back, shocked as she cradled her cheek. Heeseung just shook his hand, blowing on his knuckles, and adjusted his sleeves. “It’s just talk, talk, and talk with you. But you never say anything useful.” He mumbled, cutting his eyes at her. It was his turn to look disgusted, to throw the same look right back at her.

“You just- you just hit a princess, you moron!”

“You just called a prince a moron, moron. Do me a favor and head home, would you? I’m sure you’ll have a much better time with the boot-lickers back home.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see you frozen, eyes darting between the two of them in startled, scared glances. He wanted to comfort you, he did, but he had something to attend to first.

“My father will-!”

“Will what? Hm? Will wage war on us? Will withhold shipments?” Heeseung stepped closer, amused smirk sliding over his face. “Will close their ports? What then? Hm?”

There was a long pause before Heeseung whispered the answer.

“Do that, and we will wipe you off the planet.”

Something in his eyes must have been wrong, too intense, too serious in that moment, because Rin paled. For once she looked unnerved. Scared, even. “You have a poor choice in partners.” She finally settled on sniffing, trying foolishly to keep her stance.

“Say something else about her. Give me a reason to do much worse than hit you.”

Rin was gone the next day. The wedding was called off and Heeseung received an earful.

And then, just like that, war was started. And just like that, war was ended. Victory, obviously. Deliciously so, as Heeseung eyed the ring finger he’d received in a delicate silver box from his general. He sighed, turning it this way and that. The ring on the dainty digit was easily recognizable. The royal family sigil of the isles he'd just annihilated.

The same mark that had scarred over under your jaw from one too many slaps.

Heeseung hummed, shifting around in his chair, and removed the ring. No blood staining the metal, luckily enough. He handed the finger off to a butler with a nod of thanks, then returned to what he was doing.

Heeseung wrapped his arms back around your waist, chin right back on your shoulder as he hummed and rocked the both of you. He bathed in your warmth, gently grasping your hand that fit so perfectly in his. “I think it suits you better, personally. The color brings out your eyes.” He hummed, sliding the ring on. You shuddered a bit, but being the polite thing you were you didn’t refuse his gift. Just shook in his arms like a leaf, tears silently steaming down your face.

Your home was gone. More importantly, that bitch was gone. Heeseung’s kingdom would build it anew.

Heeseung just smiled at you, eyes soft and smile widening, and kissed your tears away. You were just so adorable. “Shh, hey, it’s alright…” he cooed. “You’ll get plenty of time to build it up again how it should be when you’re my queen.”

[s0s1mple]

guys i promise im alive im gonna get to the reqs lol, im writing them out rn, just got done with some commission work lol

[s0s1mple]

Nishimura Riki - headcannons

Designs your nails and LOVES doing it for you. 

As you know, man’s artistic as HELL so, it's only right that he does your nail designs. You just give him a plain nail template opened on your tablet, and he gets into action. In the starting of your relationship when you asked him if he could design your nails for the first time, he was surprised but he immediately nodded with his round eyes looking up at you.  

Then later on, when you didn't ask him to design them for you (because he was tired and you didn't want to bother him) he insisted- no begged to let him design them for you. He said, and i quote, “Let me do them for you baby, you know it’ll turn out bad when your genius of a boyfriend isn't designing them.”  

Though he may act like he’s tired of designing your nails, he LOVES it. No matter what he’s doing, how busy he is, he’ll drop everything and design your nails for you. He’ll even add his initials somewhere in the design because he just loves being yours and you being his. 

2. Asks for a kiss before helping you. 

Oh you want that cereal which is on the top shelf? A kiss. You forgot to bring your towel into the bathroom and you need him to get it for you? A kiss. You want him to bring you a hot cup of tea after a long day? Kiss.  

Whatever you want from him- you'll get it but only with a kiss ofc. 

For instance, you’re laying on the couch watching a series that's got you hooked on alongside with Niki beside you with his leg on yours. You feel the need to drink water after gobbling down all the popcorn. As you move your gaze away from the screen, in search of water bottle, you notice that it's beside Niki. You nudge him with your elbow asking for the water bottle, he momentarily turns his gaze to see you and then takes the water bottle in his hand.  

But here’s the catch, before you can take it, he pulls his hand back and leans his face closer to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, clearly asking for a kiss. You chuckle and peck his lips, satisfied, Niki smiles and gives the bottle to you.  

3. Sends voice recordings when he’s away 

You are the only person he yaps to. Seriously, you are his personal, real-life diary. He shares everything with you, all from his embarrassing childhood moments to his deepest darkest desires. He doesn't feel weird or embarrassed while doing so because why would he be? You are his safe person, and he trusts you. Just like how you do with him. 

And so, when he’s away, he always sends voice recordings of him speaking about anything and everything. Right from, “Good morning, babe” to “Today was so tiring but seeing engenes definitely made me feel better”  

He shares everything. his struggles, his happiness, his amusement he faced while being in completely different countries and states. Your contact is like a cute little documentation of him yapping on and on about how the weather was too hot, how his room service food was bland and how much he misses you.  

There are constant sighs when he’s talking about you- about your presence. “It’s so exhausting, I just wish you were here.”  He says with so much desperation but ends it by saying, “I love you, angel. Sleep well.” knowing you’re probably asleep due to the different time zones.  

He misses you a little extra hard when you reply with voice recordings of your own, he constantly says I love you and ends it every time with a kiss pressed into the mic of his phone.  

4. Your space is his space. 

He absolutely hates being away from you. You literally are like oxygen for him. So, he doesn't want to stay away from you even for a second. He’s constantly in your space, sitting too close to you or clinging onto your side like a koala.  

Normally when you both are in public, he doesn't show pda and just sticks to holding your hand and pecking you. And you don't mind it because you know that not showing pda doesn't equal to him not loving you. Because its exactly the opposite when you both are alone.  

He craves for your touch. He just needs to be close to you even if it's just you both sitting together scrolling on your phones. To him, what matters is that he’s close enough to you that you both can feel each other's presence.  

And just one little complaint about how your hand is sore because he put his whole-body weight on it, he’ll give you the most offending, heart-breaking reaction to you with betrayal written all over his face. “You don't want me, right?  You don't love me anymore, do you?”  

5. Draws on your hand.  

Take note that if you sit beside him while he’s sketching on a book that your hand isn't yours. Infact your hand isn't a hand, it's his canvas. He gently takes a hold of your hand and draws beautiful and small art on it.  

There are, ofcourse many hearts on it along with his name etched on your skin with the ink of the pen. He just loves doodling on your hand and thinks it's the most beautiful and best canvas ever. You don't mind it either, especially when he’s drawing small masterpiece on your, well normal hand. Sometimes his art turns out so good, you want to get a tattoo of it.  

You even told him that, if you ever get a tattoo, you’ll a tattoo of his art which ofcourse made him beam with joy and kiss you passionately. “Really?? Then I'll get a similar one so, we’ll be matching!”  

6. Talks to you when you’re asleep. 

Ok, not that he’s creepy or anything but when you are sleeping beside him, a sudden wave of realization hits him. That you are actually here, with him. He so down bad for you it's insane and he thanks God every day because he doesn't know what he’ll do without you.  

He just believes that he got lucky with you because how did an angel like you fall for him? He just looks at you stupidly soft when your eyes are closed and your breathe steady. Sometimes he talks to himself, “wow. she’s really mine?? Tf.” and other times talks to you when you are asleep. 

Like, “I don't know, I want to be with you for a long time- forever. I feel safe around you baby.” and ends it with, “You know I love you right?” then he kissed your head, then your cheek and then finally your neck and keeps his head there, drifting off to sleep. 

7. Showers with you. 

Now, not like a sexual one, just quiet, warm, emotionally safe. The kind where it’s just you, him, and the water running... like the world doesn’t exist for a few minutes. 

He’s quiet in the shower, but he’s always holding you — an arm around your back, your forehead against his shoulder, his hand gently brushing water through your hair. It’s not about talking, it’s about presence. 

He takes care of everything without making a big deal out of it. Pumps shampoo into your hand. Holds your towel open when you step out. Gently dries your hair with a tee because he knows your scalp’s sensitive to rough towels. 

The steam makes him even softer somehow. He speaks in a quieter tone, like loudness doesn’t belong in this moment. 

“Close your eyes, I’ll rinse it for you.” 

Afterwards, he lets you wear his comfiest hoodie (the worn-out one he never lets anyone else touch) and pulls you into bed with damp hair and all. 

He never treats showering together as a performance — to him, it’s just a deeply gentle, intimate kind of comfort. 

8. Doesn't sleep without you 

Niki’s the type who wakes up to even the tiniest movement.  You shift a little? Pull the blanket up? Try to sneak to the bathroom quietly?  His arm instantly wraps tighter around your waist.  Voice low, all sleepy and confused: 

“Where are you going…?”  “No. Come back.” 

Even when he’s half-asleep, his instincts scream “hug her or perish.”  He doesn’t even open his eyes properly—just blindly reaches out, grabs your arm or your shirt, pulls you back into his chest like a possessive little koala.  No mercy. He’s not dramatic about it. He doesn’t even realize he does it.  He’ll wake up in the morning completely wrapped around you, limbs tangled, face in your neck…  

Once he’s fully asleep, he becomes impossible to peel off.  You try to untangle yourself and he just tightens his grip like muscle memory. 

“Five more minutes.”  (You’ve been there for three hours.) 

Also, he gently rubs his thumb on your arm in his sleep without even knowing. Like his body’s making sure you’re still there. 

9. Shows cool tricks all the time 

Niki has this unspoken rule with himself:  If he knows how to do something cool, you HAVE to see it.  Doesn't matter if it's dancing, solving a Rubik’s cube, flipping a pen, opening a soda can in a weird way— 

“Babe. Look.” (does triple spin)  “Sick, right?”  

You could be trying to study, and he’s just on the other side of the room spinning a water bottle perfectly on the table.  You look over and he grins like a kid who just got an A+ without studying. 

“Tell me that wasn’t smooth.” 

Does the most randomest tricks too. Like one time he threw his cap in the air and ducked his head so that the cap landed on his head. 

Absolutely the boyfriend who teaches you random tricks too.  How to shuffle cards, moonwalk, do a footwork step—  And if you mess up? 

“Nooo, not like that.”  Gets up, shows you ten more times.  Then claps like a proud coach when you get it right. 

The moment he finds out you’re watching him dance, he goes 10x harder.  Acts like he’s just messing around, but that footwork is clean. 

“What? I was just warming up.”  (Sir. That was a full concert.) 

Even if it’s the smallest thing—like stacking snacks in a perfect tower—he’ll tilt his head, step back, cross his arms like: 

“I’m a genius. 

But when you show him something cool? He gets SO competitive. 

“Okay now watch me do it better.”  (He says it jokingly, but he must win. It’s law.) 

Deep down? He just wants to see you laugh and get impressed.  He never really asks for compliments—but the second you say, 

“You’re so good at that…”  He tries to act chill but his whole chest is glowing. 

©mrsjjongstby all writing belong to me. do not copy, modify or repost my works.

taglist: @gnarlyhoons @stormlit-pages @himynameisraelynn @see-c (lmk if u wanna be added!)

A/N: ok.......... long fic will be posted soon but until then, here's a little something for y'all! stay hydrated!

[s0s1mple]

hii just wanted to say i loved the yandere jake one, i really love your stories, will look forward for the next part of blossom :))

AHHH thank you! Sorry for a delay right now, I set up a commission service for paintings and I've been trying to get those orders done, haha. I hope to have the next one out soon, and I'm trying to make it a longer chapter.

:DD

[s0s1mple]

yandere jake who falls for y/n after seeing her in one of their concerts, then he was satisfied with just following her around but finally kidnaps her after he finds out her bias is another member (any)

i hope you understand this :)) i love your writing sm !!!

ur too sweet oml <3

Stan - Sim Jaeyun

TW: General yandere behavior, kidnapping, stalking, jealousy

Masterlist

He wasn’t sure what initially caught his attention. Was it your eager smile as you waved your lightstick around? Was it the way you hopped, your hair sticking up at odd angles as you cheered them on? Or maybe it was your eyes, curved and happy whenever his own gaze drifted your way.

Really, none of these things were unique to you. You weren’t doing anything special, weren’t holding any sign or trying to throw anything on stage. You followed the concert dress code too, even if it was obviously put together a little haphazardly. No, you were just jumping to the music and happily singing along. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less.

And yet Jake found himself seeking you out at every concert. From the first day you were there, to the next day, and on to the next city, and then the next. He wasn’t sure why, especially since every angle pointed to you being a sasaeng with how consistently you got close to the barrier. You had to be spending so much money on them, so much time, to do so after all. And yet he still sought you out as he sung Polaroid Love, still grinned like a maniac when he saw you screaming their fan chant.

If you were a sasaeng, he decided, it was strange he’d never seen you before. It was equally strange how you didn’t seem to behave like one. You didn’t look for their attention, didn’t primp and preen yourself or check your mirror during lulls in the performance, didn’t take out your industrial camera to film for a little fansite or something…

You just enjoyed the music.

Around the fifth day of touring, Jake got curious. Really curious. Who exactly were you? And how could he find such a thing out? It’s not like there was a seat for him to find, considering it was general admission. So instead, late one night when he was supposed to be sleeping for the next concert, he was scrolling away on social media.

Sunghoon snored on the other bed, and Jake tried his best to ignore it as he scrolled through every post under their tour’s hashtag.

No, no, no, no, no, no…

Did you even post anything? Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised with how little you seemed to bring your phone out during sets. It was something he appreciated in the moment, loving that you cared about just experiencing the music and performance without worrying about posting or something, but now he was a little frustrated.

He wanted to put a name to the face!

When the sun began to filter through the window and Jake’s eyes grew sore, he forced his phone from his face and passed out instantly.

He’s pretty sure he only got through that night’s concert because of his excitement at seeing you again.

The eighth concert rolled around and Jake was beginning to think he’d never know who it was who captured his attention, who became his muse on stage and pulled such energy from him. You didn’t post, you didn’t seem to talk to anyone who did post, and he didn’t have a ticket or a seat number to go off of. But then he got a lead.

The tour manager, a new manager they’d gotten from partnering with a brand new touring agency, left his phone out as he looked over some papers. It was pre-soundcheck, all of them milling about waiting to go on stage to run things over, and then Jake saw it. Your face smiling back at him from his lock screen.

“Huh?” Jake almost choked on his spit as he rushed over to make sure. Yeah, it was you alright. Same sunny smile and bright eyes. “Who’s that?” He managed, gaze darting expectantly to the manager.

He looked up from his papers, confused for a moment, before a fond smile appeared. “Oh, that’s my daughter. She’s a fan of yours, actually. I don’t know if you’ve noticed-“

“I’ve seen her out in the crowd a few times!” Jake blurted happily, joy rushing over him at the thought of finally learning more. “Has she been traveling with you?”

“You saw her? I’m surprised you remembered, you must be good with faces.” Your father’s eyebrows lifted in light surprise. But as always, he was all too happy to talk about his only daughter. “Yeah, she’s been with me this whole tour since she’s on break from college. The staff know her and usually let her in a bit early to get front row. She’s actually been helping give me feedback for the tour moving forward, like what type of lighting gets the best response and stuff.”

Jake bobbed his head, everything clicking into place. You didn’t act like a sasaeng because you weren’t one. You were the daughter of a music tour manager, no wonder you didn’t care to film as much, especially since your father must have access to tons of footage for advertisements. It felt validating, somehow, to have picked you out of a crowd of all people to be infatuated with. “Oh yeah? What’s her name?”

At the very next concert, Jake prowled around backstage where he probably shouldn’t be. He peeked out of the curtains, drifted around and picked his head into the hallways leading towards the main concert hall, watched staff members like a hawk… he wanted to see if he could catch sight of you then, to see you in an environment outside of the booming music and flashing lights. He just had to.

To his surprise and utter elation, his snooping paid off. A few minutes before he had to run back to get final touches on hair done, he saw you. You were chatting happily with one of the camera operators, light stick hanging loosely from your wrist. To see you so calm, so put together in stark contrast to how excitable you were when they- he- performed was like a dream come true. You just looked so friendly, so approachable… Jake might have even went out to say hello finally and meet the person who’d been infecting his thoughts so severely if not for his name being shouted impatiently.

Jungwon had chewed him out for that one.

But that didn’t matter much to him, because for the next few hours he was back in your presence and performing for you. He tried not to show favoritism, to move around to other sections of the stage, but like a magnet he just kept getting pulled right back to you. To grinning at you, to singing to you, to appraising and enjoying your beautiful smile.

And every time he appeared, you smiled even wider, waving so eagerly Jake thought his heart could burst.

The concerts went on. New city, new faces, but you remained. Engenes praised Jake online, saying just how excited and happy he seemed to be on stage, without knowing that most of it was due to his lucky charm in the crowd.

And you didn’t even know it! How crazy was that? He was just too shy, too fidgety and nervous at the idea of actually meeting you. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Here he was acting like the fan… but Jake didn’t mind. You made him happy even without knowing it, ate up his thoughts, made something inside him latch onto your presence and not let go.

Jake was a clingy, friendly guy, but this was a whole new level. He found he didn’t mind it too much.

But then the end of the tour loomed over them, and a crushing sort of fear hit Jake like a ton of bricks. He’d have to wait until this next tour to see you again, wouldn’t he? And what if the tour fell when you were at college? And what if they didn’t use the same tour company? And what if, and what if, and-

“Would your daughter like to meet us? I mean, before this all ends and stuff.” The words spilled out one day, earning a disbelieving look from the manager and even more so from some of the members. Jake didn’t even blush or cower away, too nervous and hopeful.

“He has a daughter?

“Oh, you really don’t have to-“

“Is she an engene?”

“You’ve been such an awesome manager, so of course! Besides, it’s always an honor meeting engene.” In a flurry of voices Jake hardly registered, it was set. About thirty minutes before the concert, you would be meeting them.

He would be meeting you.

He’d never felt so giddy, so anxious, in his entire life. Not even during I-Land, a fact that should have probably alarmed him to the fact that his little obsession had gone a bit too far.

But Jake didn’t really have it in him to care, and so he practically vibrated with excitement as you cautiously peeked your head into the room.

So cute.

You stepped out fully, and Jake barely remembered to do the group greeting. You seemed nervous, a little skittish and so different from how you acted in the crowd, but it was sweet and Jake found himself smiling stupidly. “Don’t be nervous, we don’t bite!” He joked. You cast him a glance, and he half expected you to stammer and get even more nervous, but if anything you relaxed more. Jake was pretty pleased his words soothed you.

“Hi, I’m Jake.” He held out his hand and immediately felt a bit dumb. Handshaking? So formal… he didn’t want to be formal with you. He felt like he was fumbling around in front of his crush like a child might.

But you took his hand, palm fitting perfectly with his, and smiled softly. “I know, haha…” you managed before clearing your throat. “Um, I just wanted to say how incredible of a performer you are!”

“Me?” Jake couldn’t stop his smile. You were complimenting him! You noticed him just as much as he noticed you! Obviously, since you were an engene, but that hardly mattered with the fact itself reared its head and made him so happy.

“Yeah! You’ve been on fire this tour!” You said, giving a thumbs up. Then another member was filtering into your space, greeting you with a handshake after Jake’s unintentional lead, and he could hardly take his stare from you at all. You were just so close, so calm and elegant and happy, so-

Were you stammering? Why were you stammering? Blushing? You were calm in conversation. You didn’t do that, didn’t fangirl like that at concert, so why?

Heeseung was grinning warmly at you, and you were trembling a little as you shook his hand vigorously. “H-Hi Heeseung!” Your voice was practically a squeak, cheeks painted with a beautiful blush Jake wanted for his eyes only… and all for Heeseung. “You’re my bias, haha, sorry if I’m awkward…”

Your bias.

A strange feeling hit Jake then and wiped the smile off his face. Like a rock settling in his stomach. You were not his. You were his favorite, but he was not yours.

For the first time in the whole time he'd known his hyung, an unexpected rage and jealousy filled his chest. He felt territorial, like a dog frothing at the mouth. Him? It was him you wanted? Of course that was the case. Heeseung, who didn't have to work nearly as hard as Jake did. Heeseung, who was all natural talent and charisma. Heeseung, who was constantly front and center. Heeseung, with his perfect pitch and perfect smile and perfect eyes and hair and-

It wasn't fucking fair.

Heeseung hadn't noticed you before now, even when you were right there in front of him. Heeseung didn't know you like Jake did, the younger male having found your social media the instant he learned your last name. He didn't know you had a dog- like Jake!- didn't know you majored in science- Jake loved science!- didn't know you donated to animal conservation, didn't know you loved cheesy action movies, didn't know that when you beamed up at the stage it looked like there were stars in your eyes.

No, he didn't know all of that, and yet you blushed and shyly asked for a photo with Heeseung, not him.

This wasn't how this was supposed to be. Not at all. Especially not with the tour drawing to a close, with you heading back to college and out of Jake's sight. Sure, he could check your social media from abroad and check in on you, see your radiant smile through the pixels, but nothing would compare to seeing you right here and now. And for him to have to end this tour knowing that his soulmate had eyes for another? That it wasn't him you cooed and cheered for when they had comebacks?

No. No, no, no, no.

The final day came. The final stop. Jake performed as usual, felt his heart soar at the sight of you as usual, and then things ended just as they usually did. Except this time he knew your schedule, and he'd be interrupting it.

"This tour was so amazing dad! You outdid yourself!" He heard you congratulate your father. He made a small gasp and laughed as you barreled into him to hug him.

"Thanks, sweetheart I've got a few more things to finish up and then we can head to the airport, alright? Wait for me by the car."

"Mm'k, don't take too long." You chuckled and he heard you walk off. In an instant Jake was following after, having shook off his manager a good thirty minutes prior. Jake was sure they were pitching a fit looking for him, but that was hardly a priority right now.

Out into the parking lot, Jake following behind in a hoodie he'd snagged from the merch table. He pretended to scroll on his phone, heard hammering. As you passed through the alley near the entrance to the fitting area, Jake lunged. He'd never been the strongest person in the group, but in that moment he felt a surge of manic strength. Grabbed you around the middle, careful yet tight, and clamped a hand to your mouth.

Could he have just coaxed you there? Maybe. Could he wait to hold you in his arms in any form? Hardly.

Into the building the two of you went, you predictably screaming into his palm and struggling, until Jake pinned you to the wall. God, you looked so pretty...

"Shhh, hey, just me!" He said. Confusion radiated over your face. But you didn't collapse and bat your eyelashes, didn't grin and blush.

Would you do such a thing if he was Heeseung instead?

No, you just stared at him in fear and bewilderment. "Jake?" Your voice sounded out, still muffled behind his hand. Jake grinned a bit, happy to hear his name roll off your tongue in any capacity.

"Mmhmm! Just wanted to apologize real quick, alright? We'll talk later, baby."

"Wha-?

In pressed his thumbs, shifting to your throat and the sides of your windpipe. Not enough to bruise, but certainly enough to stop oxygen intake. In an instant you understood what was happening and clawed at his arms. He'd certainly have to explain it, but that wasn't on his mind. "Shh, shh, it'll be alright! Just need you quiet for a bit while I finish sorting things out. Then we can get to know each other better! Isn't that great?" Jake knew he probably sounded manic. Desperate. The slight smile plastered to his face was probably scary, but when you were so close in reach he could hardly do anything else. "Then you'll see I'm a much better choice than Heeseung. Promise."

You went limp. Jake cradled you. Then he called his manager, told him to meet him in the changing room.

In he walked, immediately going stock still at the sight before him. Jake sitting on the floor, cradling you in his lap, nose pressed to your hair as he hummed. He peered up and met his eyes.

"What happened? Is she hurt? Do I need to call someone...?" The words slowly trailed off as the mood of the room sunk in. The two stared at each other. "Jake, what did you do?" Was the final whispered question.

"Do you think Enhypen could survive a scandal like this? Belift without us?" Jake asked with a small grin.

"Jake...-"

"I'm taking her. " Jake smoothed your hair from your face, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "And you and HYBE are gonna help me keep her."