HEESEUNGㅤis oblivious. oblivious and oh so in love with you and the mischievous glint in your eyes falls blind to his gaze.
you can’t blame him— you’re so beautiful, it’s distracting. he can barely remember what he was trying to tell you. “oh, right! i was saying that i am working on a new song and maybe you’d—”
he doesn’t get to finish because in just one move, you pull him down by his collars and crash your lips against his in a soft, playful kiss.
for a split second he’s processing it, eyes wide, brain buffering. it’s his first kiss with you and he doesn’t even know where to put his hands without scaring you.
his cheeks are dusted pink and eyes are too shy to meet yours, despite the satisfied smile on his lips. “you...could’ve warned me,”
( he does not want a warning )
JONGSEONGㅤloosens his tie with a heavy sigh and sinks into his chair, already wanting to go home.
but then you enter his office with a knock, not really bothering to wait for a reply. “i got the files you asked for,”
and he visibly perks up like he won a lottery, which he did because it’s you— his secretary, but also his beloved girlfriend.
“anything else?” you ask, ever so professional like you weren’t with him a night ago. he hates how you seperate your personal and professional life so well while he hands are always itching to hold you.
“nope, thank you,” he smiles, expecting you to leave like you always do but you catch him by surprise, pulling onto his tie and capturing his lips with yours.
your boyfriend freezes before his hand comes up to your waist like it’s instinct, pulling you closer as he kisses you back softer than you expected.
“that was...unexpected,” he clears his throat, trying to play it cool as if your kiss didn’t sweep him off his feet. but after you leave, he is staring at the wall and replaying it.
JAEYUNㅤ is on cloud nine because he learnt a cool thing during his quantum mechanics lecture and now he gets to tell you all about it— he has never been happier.
“like, you can actually walk through a wall if your atoms align— how crazy is that?” he is so ecstatic, smiling ear to ear. then he looks at the soft smile on your lips and falls for you all over again. “it’so cool, isn’t it?”
“very cool, baby,” you nod and he feels like he’s in heaven right now.
“and it sounds fake but it’s a real process—”
in one swift move, you pull him closer by his belt hoop and shut him up with a kiss. it takes him a while to not freak out and kiss you back, losing himself into you.
and when you pull back, he actually whines, not wanting the kiss to end so soon but also equally flustered to say anything.
“that was so cool—” he doesn’t know why he is describing a kiss as cool. “cooler than quantum tunneling, which reminds me that it powers nuclear fusion in the sun which means it is a very real process...”
“sim jaeyun,” you put a finger on his lips and his heart does a backflip. “shut up and kiss me, please,”
the way you are looking at him— you’ve officially broke him. “yes, ma’am,” and the next second, he loses himself in the kiss again.
SUNGHOONㅤ thinks he is all that for wearing a black tank top while cooking for you, flexing his biceps because he knows just the effect they have on you.
“see something you like?” he smirks at the way you’ve been staring at him for past fifteen minutes— not that he minds it. it only fuels his already huge ego.
and you roll your eyes, feeling the heat creep up your face. “you wish,”
“you say that but you keep looking at me like i’m dinner,” he teases and honestly, he is right. he is girl dinner... and you look away shyly when he points out the way you keep staring at him. “don’t be shy, doll. you can look at me all you want,”
and it’s the shit eating grin on his face that you want to wipe— he’s so cocky and for what?
so you do the first thing your mind comes up with : tip toeing just enough to press your lips against his. he cannot even process while you kiss him, pulling onto his lower lip— he almost drops the spatula to the floor.
when you pull back, he is all red, cheeks and ears, not even meeting your eyes, and you know you’ve won the game he started. “who’s shy now?”
SUNOOㅤ returns from a long day at only, wanting nothing more than burying himself in your arms. he spots you lounging on the couch with a magazine and he beelines to you— loosening his tie, taking off his suit and throwing it somewhere on the floor.
“my angel, i missed you,” he whines, as if every inch of his body aches after being away from you ( it does. ) he goes in for a kiss and you dodge— he had no idea you were going to play in his face.
weird, but he tries again, only for you to dodge once more, biting back a smile— your boyfriend is now freaking out. “why are you doing this to me?”
you shrug and it’s fun watching how he is moments away from crashing out. when he gives up and tries to leave, you grab his collar and kiss him just the way he likes— sweet and slow.
his hand settles on your hips and you can feel him smile against your lips— and even after you pull back. “you had me worried for a second,”
JUNGWONㅤ watches you walk into his study and immediately clocks your intentions. he has been dating you for years now, just one look at you gives away what you’re upto.
so when you lean against his work desk and fiddle with his collar, a soft “hi, baby,” leaving your lips while waiting for the perfect moment to surprise him, he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls on on his lap.
one hand tilts your chin, the other on your thigh— he turns it into a moment. confident, slow, a little smug in a that makes you forget why you were here in the first place.
he doesn’t let up, lips moving against yours in a slow, passionate dance. it feels so good, your brain is a mush— if kissing him like this is how your pranks end everytime, you don’t mind losing.
with a soft nip at your lower lip, he pulls away, both of you breathing erratically. “so, what are you here for?” he asks ever so innocently, as if that even matters now that he has you on his lap.
RIKIㅤ follows you around the house as you do the chores. yes he helps, only as an excuse to be near you— folding laundry so he can ‘accidentally’ brush his hands against yours, bump into you and steal a kiss.
“riki,” you sigh, getting tired of his antics. not that you mind the kisses, but you need to finish up the chores!
“what? i’m just kissing my pretty girl,” and he is so proud saying it, tilting his head down to kiss you again, “can’t i kiss my girlfriend?”
he presses short pecks on your lips, making exaggerated ‘mwah!’ sound while you simply give up and accept the sudden love attack.
but when you finally melt under his kisses and try to kiss back, he pulls away with a shrug. “nope, thought you said no,”
he is so annoying, thriving off the flustered and pissed off look on your face, only for you to pull him by his belt loop and crash your lips against his— his eyes wide open trying to understand what just happened.
your boyfriend loses it, really, barely remembering how to kiss and when you break the kiss, his face is all red with eyes wide open. “don’t start things you cannot finish, ‘ki,”
𝟏𝟐𝟖𝟕──────𝒊 ⠀undergroundboxer! p.js x f! rea⠀⠀ 警察熱⠀ ﹒ ⠀ 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁!mdni
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❤︎ ⦂⠀ 馃槀馃槀🐾
it was late at night when everyone should be asleep or at least in bed by now, except you. you’re waiting in the car, biting your nails, worrying about your boyfriend.
you know he’s in there probably winning right now, but you still worry. what if the wrong type of guy comes in? what if something bad happens? your brain overthinks.
you used to go inside the basement area with him, but you stopped after a while. you couldn’t just sit and watch him get hit like that. and he knows you hate it—he really does—and he’ll do anything to make up for the fact that he still does it anyway.
finally his match was over and he came out bloody and bruised. you instantly get out of the car to help him, opening his side of the door.
“it’s okay, baby, i got it,” he says, opening the door.
you sigh and go back over to your side. you fasten your seatbelt and he does the same.
the car ride was silent for around five minutes before you spoke first. “how’d it go?”
“good. i won,” he said, smiling a bit. you smile even though it’s fake. “that’s good.” you pause for a second. “you okay?” you say at the stoplight, examining his face, using your hand to move his head side to side to check him. all he does is look at you, not breaking eye contact.
“what?” you say, finally removing your hands. jay leans in and kisses you soft and slow. you were going to melt into it, but you forgot you were driving and the light turned green, so you quickly put your hands back on the wheel. even then, jay is still looking at you.
“do you have like a concussion or something?” you ask, his behavior being a little weird.
“no. can i not wanna love on my girlfriend?” he says, slouching down in the car seat.
you laugh a bit at that, and once again jay is just watching you. after a while his hand crept up to your thigh, at first just placing it there. you were too busy getting home to mind + he does this often anyway.
then he slowly started rubbing circles and sliding his hand up and down.
you hit a red light again and looked at him. he was looking at you.
“can you pull over?” he asks. you were going to respond and question him, but before you even can he rubs his hand higher up your thigh. okay, now you know what he wants.
“okay,” you say, looking at the completely empty parking lot in the back of some old building.
you pull in, and the second you stop the car jay’s on you, pulling you in for a kiss, one hand on your waist and the other still on your thigh. the kiss was messy and all over the place. he breaks the kiss to go sit in the back seat and you follow.
once you sit down, jay is quick to pull your shorts and panties off. he’s moving so fast you can barely even process what he’s doing until you feel his mouth on you.
you let out a soft, sweet moan that went straight through jay, causing him to relax a bit.
he licks your pussy lazy, just completely lost in it. you can almost say he enjoys this more than you.
he licks up and then down, then shakes his head a bit with his tongue out, causing your hips to buck up, but he holds them down with his calloused hands. he comes up for a split second. “be still for me, okay?” you just nod your head. so cute :))
the scene was honestly lewd. your legs spread out, jay eating you out like it’s his last meal, you making a mess all over the seat, the sounds of your wetness and your moans and jay’s low groans.
one thing about jay is he knows how to please a woman. his lady first, then him—it’s always been like that for him. he knows everything you like and uses it. he’s also not shy to ask what you want, and he’ll do it, which is why you’re seconds away from cumming right now.
“mmhph… jay,” you mumble, your hand coming up to grip his hair softly. fuck, jay could’ve came right there.
he knows you’re close, so the lazy licks become a bit more aggressive, his whole head buried in your pussy, moving, his hands gripping even tighter on your shaky hips.
“jay!” you say, eyes shutting as you shake, the orgasm hitting you like a bus.
even then jay doesn’t stop. he literally kept going until you had to tap his shoulder, so lost in it, whining quietly against you like he can’t get enough of how good you taste.
he came up from between your legs to cup your face and give you a kiss on the cheek. “did so well.” you just smile, too out of it to speak right now. it would probably sound mumbled and shaky anyway.
jay starts untying his pants. “think you have enough energy to ride me, princess?”
he slides off his pants and starts taking off his boxers. “hmm?” he says, looking at you and tilting his head. you nod your head and let out a quiet “yeah,” which earned a smile from him.
“mmm… fuck, baby,” jay says, head tilted back, eyes shut as you ride him, his hands guiding your hips up and down. “jay…” you say, low and mumbled, face in the crook of his neck.
“i-i know, i know… need this, need you so bad,” he says, one shaky hand coming to rub the small of your back, voice soft.
he never felt this sensitive before. your soft ass bouncing up and down on him, your tits pressed up against his, your soft face against his shoulder and neck, and your moans—you’re just so soft and warm, just what he needed after so much violence.
“n-need you… please, just—keep going” he says, like he already isn’t balls deep inside you. you couldn’t even respond. all you do is whimper in his ear.
the bruises he got on his leg from kicks from opponents hurt every time you’d drop back down on him, but it hurt so good, just adding to the pleasure.
he let out shaky breaths bordering almost on whimpers (which is a shock to you, because jay really isn’t much of a whimperer).
his hips come up erratically, not even matching your rhythm, chasing every soft bounce.
he turns his head to the side to meet your lips and uses one of his hands to move your chin toward his face.
he places wet, open-mouthed kisses, saliva connecting when you guys break apart for air and kiss each other again.
“you’re so soft, and—shit—” he moans between words, “fucking perfect.”
“and you’re all mine. you’re—hah—too good to me…”
“jayyy!” you squeal as your orgasm rushes over you. your thighs trembling and hips bucking was a sight that made jay cum right after you, a needy, low sound leaving him.
once the high finally comes down, you and jay just melt into each other, both breathless. he looks around at the mess you guys made, you and his cum dripping down his dick while he’s still so deep inside you.
he turns his head again to look at you, your face still in his neck. “you okay?”
“mhm,” you say, nodding.
geez, you were so perfect to him. so sweet and kind. you’re still with him even when he does something you hate. he hopes to make you his wife someday so he can be your husband. he’ll spoil you with whatever you like. you’ll plan the wedding someday, maybe even have kids running around—
“uhhh, jay?” you say, instantly sitting more upright as you see blood on your hand.
“what?” he says, snapped out of his daydream.
“you’re bleeding…”
“oh, am i?” he says, touching the back of his head and seeing the blood.
“do i need to drive you to the hospital?”
“no, i’m good,” he says, still rubbing circles on your hips, soft and careful.
“jay, are you sure?” you say seriously, looking him in the eyes.
he just ends up giving you a kiss instead of talking—slow and grateful.
“don’t be so worried about me. i’m alright” he rubs up and down your waist gently.
you roll your eyes. “you really piss me off some days…” you pause. “but i love you.”
“love you too,” he whispers against your lips.
jay has the most husband material out of everyone in enha dare i say...
F1DRIVER!JAY loved to have you cheer him on during races, seeing you on the sidelines with a big supportive smile spreading across your face──which was guaranteed to motivate him a little bit more. every, single time.
F1DRIVER!JAY who always liked to flaunt you to the public. especially in front of the cameras. whenever paparazzi would be around, jay would love to wrap his arm around your shoulders. or even snuggle his hand around your waist if he felt like feeding the media a bit more. just because he wanted everyone to know that you were his.
whenever F1DRIVER!JAY came home from long days of practice, he would immediately flop on the bed next to you. complaining about how they’d make him drive the same track over and over, wishing that you’d be in the seat next to him. even though you might fall out of the car from how fast it was.
F1DRIVER!JAY who would spoil you rotten to the point where your closet spewed out clothes. Insisting that you’d be the best dressed at all of his races──although he would still get jealous and overprotective if people looked your way.
F1DRIVER!JAY who’d let you put his helmet on just for fun, eventually choking up the loudest laugh ever because of how silly and big it looked compared to your head. you would snicker, smiling ear to ear saying, “what? i think it looks pretty cool on me.”
F1DRIVER!JAY found it so hilarious yet adorable that you collected lego cars of his team. his face would light up when he would walk in on you sprawled out on the floor of your bedroom. the pieces scattered on the ground as you built it brick by brick.
“you still collecting this stuff?” jay would ask, letting out a soft chuckle as he sat beside you to start helping you build. the concentration written on your face always made his heart flutter.
you would just nod as you continued building your lego, fingers piecing it all together. “yes i do, and you have no choice but to watch.”
husband!jay who, for a very long time, had been the epitome of restraint. Your marriage began with the discreet, practical formality of a courthouse ceremony — a necessity, considering his schedule was an unforgiving, suffocating machine of back-to-back meetings and global acquisitions. He was there, present, but always a man committed to his work. And yet, the day your wedding celebration finally happened and the honeymoon arrived, coinciding with his first real stretch of vacation in years, the man you thought you knew simply vanished, replaced by something far more primitive and, frankly, exhausting in the most wonderful way possible.
He turned into a complete, shameless koala. It wasn’t enough for him to just be near you; he seemed to have developed a physical allergy to any space between the two of you. In Paris — the city you’d chosen for your honeymoon — it only got worse. Jay insisted on holding your hand at all times, as if the entire city needed to know you were his. He held onto you as you walked through elegant streets, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk just to fix your scarf and use the excuse to steal a kiss, tugged you closer by the waist whenever you paused in front of a shop window or some café too pretty to resist, and kept an arm around your shoulders for nearly the entire walk back to the hotel. Inside bookstores, in restaurants, while waiting in line at a pâtisserie, it didn’t matter, Jay always found a way to touch you. A kiss to your temple while you picked dessert, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your palm under the table, his face buried in your neck the second the elevator doors slid shut. The man who once barely had time to breathe now seemed determined to make up for every second of distance that had built up between you, and he did it by becoming absurdly, scandalously affectionate.
But it was behind closed doors that the transformation became truly overwhelming.
The man who used to be so disciplined, so careful with his energy, suddenly seemed to have an infinite, bottomless reservoir of desire. He didn’t just want to love you; he wanted to consume you. Every night, the moment the lights went out, the “magnate” Jay dissolved into a man driven by one singular, frantic purpose. He pulled you into bed with hungry intent, spending hours exploring every inch of your skin, his mouth pressing warm, wet kisses from your collarbone all the way down to your thighs, clearly trying to memorize the texture of your body better than you knew it yourself.
And then there was the way he always came undone always deep, intense, with a primal force that left you breathless and trembling. It was as if, after years of being a man of logic and spreadsheets, he had finally decided to let instinct take the wheel. It got to a point where you genuinely started wondering whether a human being was capable of going into some kind of permanent rut. You’d catch yourself staring at the ceiling in those quiet moments after he finally fell asleep, sprawled over you like a heavy, satisfied predator, thinking about the sheer physical effort he put into every single encounter.It only made the questions from those nosy aunts at family dinners feel even more absurd. Every time one of them leaned in with that curious look and asked, “So, when are we going to see a baby with his face running around?” you could feel heat creeping up your neck. You’d glance at your husband, sitting among the elders with the impeccable posture of a respectable, successful husband, and have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing or maybe moaning. While they theorized about “bad timing” or “planning,” you’d secretly be thinking about the brutal, relentless biological warfare Jay had been waging against your uterus for the past two weeks. Really, it wasn’t for lack of trying. It was almost funny to imagine your aunts’ reaction if you actually decided to tell the truth: “If only you knew the amount of effort he puts into making that happen every single night!”
husband!jay who is an actual menace when it comes to physical proximity in public. Of course, he’s not stupid enough to be overt about it, but you can still feel the subtle drag of his thumb tracing slow circles over your white tights, the touch growing heavier over the milky fabric the second he feels you part your legs just a little. He’ll be discussing market trends with complete seriousness while his grip tightens just enough to let you know exactly what he plans on doing to you the moment you both get in the car.
husband!jay who finally sheds all that polished, statesmanlike composure the second your bedroom door clicks shut. He doesn’t want to be the calm CEO anymore; he wants to be a man completely surrendered to his own urges. After days of deprivation, he has no patience for anything slow or delicate he wants the friction, the weight, the overwhelming sensation of being buried inside you. He’ll strip you with focused, efficient intensity, his eyes dark and heavy behind his glasses before he finally takes them off and tosses them aside like they’re just another useless corporate accessory, all so he can focus on you and only you, his breathing breaking into rough, guttural grunts as he whispers the filthiest things against your ear.
husband!jay who doesn’t care about gentleness or whether you still look “pretty.” In fact, what revives him after a draining day at the company is seeing you ruined in his bed, hair tangled from his rough tugging and that dazed, well-sated look written all over your face.
husband!jay who prefers to dominate you the old-fashioned way, favoring the raw connection of skin against skin, no distractions, no games, no toys. To him, those are nothing but excuses for weak men who can’t measure up on their own and need a third party to satisfy their wives. Please, how humiliating would it be for Jay Park to let his wife come from nothing but a cheap vibrator? He’d rather pin your wrists above your head, pressing your body into the sheets beneath the heavier, harder weight of his own until you can feel every solid inch of him. There’s no restraint; he drives into you with deep, rhythmic thrusts, loving the sound his firm pelvis makes when it collides with the softness of your ass. He wants to hear you moan his name, hear your voice crack when he keeps hitting that perfect, sensitive spot over and over again.
husband!jay who comes home and can’t even pretend to hold himself back, losing every ounce of polish and manners he spent his life learning; his senses narrow into those of a hungry, slightly caveman-like man. He hikes up your skirt, his large, calloused hands gripping your thighs so firmly they’ll leave faint marks by morning. Taking you from behind while you’re washing dishes becomes the sole objective, the hard ridge of his cock straining against his slacks and pressing into your ass, grinding there like some dog in heat. He doesn’t care about looking “elegant,” not when he’d been fantasizing about this exact moment for hours in the cold emptiness of his office. Eventually, the dishes slip from your soapy hands, forcing you to brace yourself against the cold ceramic of the sink when his pace starts growing harsher.
husband!jay who comes home after a fourteen-hour conference looking absolutely exhausted, yet still ridiculously handsome with his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up. He doesn’t want some grand romantic display; he just wants to bury his face in your warm, soft breasts. Is that really too much to ask?
husband!jay who is an exceptional provider in the most practical, realistic sense of the word. He doesn’t buy you extravagant jewelry just to show off; he’s the kind of man who notices when you casually mention a skincare serum while making the bed, or a snack you liked that grocery stores don’t even sell anymore. In the blink of an eye — or after a few minutes spent negotiating with suppliers from each brand — everything would be stocked in the pantry before you even had time to realize you were craving it.
husband!jay who, every time he leans in to smother your moans with his wet, firm kisses, carries a faint trace of his office life on his breath. It’s the taste of the lozenges he chews to stay alert through long meetings, or the mint gum he uses because he once saw online that chewing it makes his jawline look even sharper. It’s such a strange, intoxicating contrast the feeling of his hot, heavy tongue sliding against yours, always paired with that artificial coolness.
husband!jay who, despite the chaos and pressure of his packed schedule, turns into a complete whiner the moment the morning sun hits the bedroom. When you try to move, making excuses about needing to get up to make coffee or start your day so he doesn’t end up late, he answers with a low, irritated groan that vibrates deep in his chest. “I’m the boss, remember? I can buy coffee on the way… or you can just bring me some later.” And while you try to pull away, his hand starts wandering with slow, lazy intent, gliding from your waist down to the waistband of your pajama pants. The sensation is devastating in the best possible way; the solid, firm weight of his hand is warm, but as his fingers brush your skin, the smooth, cold metal of his wedding band creates a sharp, vivid contrast against the heat of his morning touch. It’s such an intimate, comforting feeling that your breath catches, wiping out any motivation you had to be productive. He feels your body go still and lets out a low, satisfied murmur of victory, already knowing you won’t be seeing a coffee machine anytime soon.
The rain hits the tall windows in heavy sheets, turning the city view into a soft watercolor blur. You’re sitting at the vanity in Jay’s bedroom technically your shared space now, even if you still get shy about calling it that. Fresh set of acrylics drying: glossy baby pink with delicate white bows on each ring finger. The lamp casts a warm glow, your favorite playlist humming low through the speakers.
You’re focused, lip caught between your teeth as you swipe on another layer of gloss in the mirror. The new Dior one Jay got you yesterday sticky-sweet, tinted pink. You don’t hear him come in until his reflection appears behind you.
He’s fresh out of the shower, hair damp and messy. Water droplets slide down his chest. Your eyes flick to him in the mirror and you feel that familiar flutter in your stomach equal parts want and that shy little freeze you can never quite shake.
“Hi,” you whisper, voice soft like always. You twist the gloss shut, suddenly hyperaware of how short your pink babydoll is riding up.
Jay doesn’t answer right away. He just watches you, eyes warm . Then he steps closer, hands settling on your shoulders, thumbs pressing gently into the muscle there.
“You’ve been in here playing dressup for an hour,” he murmurs, leaning down so his lips brush your ear. “Cute.”
“I wasn’t playing,” you mumble,“Just… trying stuff. The rain made me bored.”
He smiles against your neck. One hand slides down your arm, fingers tracing the soft skin until they reach your hand. He lifts it, inspecting the fresh nails and kissing your knuckles. “These are so pretty baby."
Jay turns the stool slowly so you’re facing him. The towel he's wearing is barely holding on. He cups your jaw, tilting your face up, and kissing you Slow and Deep. Tongue sliding against yours. You taste the mint from his toothpaste and something that’s just him.
When he pulls back, your gloss is smudged on his mouth. He doesn’t wipe it off.
“Baby,want you so bad now,” he says quietly.
You stand, legs a little unsteady. He gets behind you and peels your babydoll off first, then hooks his fingers in your lacy pink panties tugging them down. You step out, suddenly naked under the warm lamplight while he’s still in that towel. The shyness hits hard, you cross your arms over your chest instinctively.
Jay catches your wrists gently. “baby you're hiding from me now?”
He lifts you onto the vanity like you weigh nothing. The cool marble edge presses against the backs of your thighs. Makeup brushes and palettes get pushed aside with a soft clatter. He drops to his knees right there on the carpet, spreading your legs with warm hands.
The first lick is slow, deliberate flat tongue dragging up your already slick pussy. You gasp, fingers flying to his damp hair. He does it again, then focuses on your clit with tight, perfect circles while two fingers slide inside you easily. The wet sounds mix with the rain. Your breathy little whimpers fill the room as he works you open, curling those fingers just right, sucking gently on your clit until your legs start shaking around his shoulders.
“Jay....mmh” It comes out high and needy. You tug his hair without thinking and he groans against you, the vibration pushing you closer.
He doesn’t rush. He eats you out like he loves doing it messy and focused, free hand gripping your thigh to keep you open. When you come, it’s with a soft broken moan, back arching, nails digging into his scalp. He keeps licking you through it until you’re twitching and pushing at him weakly.
He stands, towel finally gone. His cock is hard and flushed, heavy against his stomach. You reach for it, wrapping manicured fingers around him, stroking shyly at first. Jay’s breath hitches. He leans in, kissing you deep so you can taste yourself, then rests his forehead on yours.
“Want you,” you whisper against his mouth. “Please.”
He doesn’t make you beg more. He lines up and pushes in slow, stretching you open inch by inch until he’s buried deep. Both of you exhale shakily. For a second he just stays there, hands on your hips, breathing with you while the rain pours outside.
Then he starts moving deep, rolling thrusts that grind against your clit every time. The vanity mirror fogs slightly behind you. Your anklet the gold one with the moon charm he gave you tinkles softly with every push. You wrap your legs around his waist, heels digging into his back, glossy lips parted on little gasps and moans.
He fucks you harder, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb teasing your nipple. The other grips your ass, pulling you into each thrust. Your fresh nails rake down his back not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to leave faint pink lines he’ll feel tomorrow.
“Look at me,” he says, voice rough.
You do. Eyes glassy, cheeks flushed, lip gloss long ruined. He kisses you again, messy, hips snapping faster. The angle is perfect hitting that spot inside you over and over until you’re clenching around him, coming again with a soft cry muffled against his shoulder.
Jay follows right after, burying himself deep with a low groan, pulsing inside you as he fills you up. He stays there, forehead pressed to yours, catching his breath. The rain keeps falling.
After a minute he pulls out carefully, cum already starting to drip down your thigh. He grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom, cleans you gently, then carries you to the bed like it’s the most natural thing. You curl into his chest, shy again now that the heat is fading, tracing little patterns on his skin with your pretty nails.
“You always get so quiet after,” he says softly, fingers combing through your hair. “Still shy with me?”
You nod into his neck, hiding a small smile.
He tightens his arm around you, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You fall asleep to the rain and the steady beat of his heart, legs tangled, his hand resting on your bare hip under the covers. Tomorrow he’ll probably take you shopping again just to watch you try things on. Tonight the city is washed clean outside, and inside it’s just warm skin, soft breaths, and the quiet kind of love that doesn’t need big words.
nothing about the past few weeks feels real— especially the last few days that definitely feel like a fever dream.
you had police and investigators all over you for the first few days, even though you wanted none of it. riki and sunoo had made sure your name was out of every news report that reached the media, but some people still looked at you like you were some otherworldly creature.
the hospital stay did not make you crazy thanks to your friends and sunghoon, and of course, his friends too who visited a few times.
most importantly, you had finally apologised to jungwon for doubting him all along— well, in your defence, he was acting a little suspicious. nonetheless, you both sorted it out and decided to have a little celebratory dinner once you’ve recovered. ( mainly because he escaped his suspension by a thin line )
despite all, you couldn’t wait to get home and when you finally do, it feels like everything has fallen into place.
a soft “careful,” rolls off sunghoon’s tongue as he helps you settle on your couch. he puts a cushion behind you and puts your legs up on the couch before standing up— still awkward as always. “i’ll go get water,”
sunghoon has been attentive, looking out for all your needs and feelings. the way he cares of you makes you wonder if you are an open book, because whenever you look in front of you, he is always there with what you need without even you having to tell him.
just like now, as he returns with a glass of water and cookies that you like.
he’s not even sure if you should eating all that already— it’s barely been a few hours since you had gotten discharged. sunghoon only has one logic : if it makes you happy, he will get you that, like cookies, in this case.
you munch on the snack while watching him fuss over you, a gentle smile adoring your lips. he brings you blanket and peals oranges for you, all while keeping an eye on you from across the kitchen counter to make sure you aren’t in pain or discomfort.
when he returns with a bowl full of oranges and cherries, your lips automatically curl into the sweetest smile. “thank you,”
“just let me know if you need anything else,” and one thing you have realised is sunghoon is bad at things.
bad at taking compliments, bad at accepting your gratitude, bad at words. sunghoon is one thing and it’s all actions— like the way he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch ever so soft and cautious as if you are something precious. ( you are )
“do you want?” you ask, holding a cherry near his mouth, he looks so baffled like you just did some magic.
never in his a couple hundred years of life has sunghoon ever felt like this— happy, scared, shy, impatient and love— all at once.
he opens his mouth, lips brushing against your fingertips in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. his eyes never leave yours, so focused on you as the sweetness of cherry settles on his tongue, and then— his lips are on yours.
soft, a little cold and unmoving as if he doesn’t know what to do. when your hands abandon the fruit bowl to hold his face, sunghoon feels like this is okay, like he is doing something right.
his lips move against yours slow and sweet with a silver of hesitation— honestly, his mind is begging him to devour you right here, on your couch. if it weren’t for your condition, he’d have you pinned under him.
you pull back with a ghost of smile that disappears just as quickly as it formed. “we should stop,”
and at your words, his entire world comes to a halt.
stop? do you mean not kissing anymore?
“what? why?” he is panicking already, shifting a little closer to you, eyes frantically searching for any hint of discomfort. did hendo something wrong?
you tsk, trying to play it cool. “you keep kissing me but you haven’t even asked me out properly,”
oh.
right...asking you out. he completely forgot about that. frankly, he has been so lost thinking about wanting to kiss you, it completely slipped his mind to plan a proper confession.
he would’ve bought flowers and taken you out somewhere nice and romantic. not like he really cares about all that, but you do, and that’s enough for a reason for him to do it.
but now, he has nothing— no flowers or a romantic setting. just his racing heart and swety palms and a mind failing to come up with words when he needs them the most.
you’re looking at him so expectantly with those pretty eyes, he aches at the thought of ruining this for you.
“um,” he is hold his breath, literally. “be my, uh, girlfriend?”
it comes out so quiet and tender, barely above the silence in the room. his eyes search yours for a response, do you like it? did he do well? he waits for you to give him a sign before he might lose his mind.
but then you laugh— so heartful and melodic that he can’t tell if he is being insulted right now or not.
and the worst part is that you keep laughing, unable to hold back your smiles. he loves it, really, watching you being so happy is like finding a diamond mine. but right now, he needs you to say something and unlike you, he does not find this amusing. “very funny,”
the whole thing continues for a few more minutes— each one feeling like hell for him, by the way— before you finally stop and kiss the corner of his lips. “i’d love to be your girlfriend,”
despite his best efforts, he does end up smiling like a fool, reaching out to hold your hands— just slightly— then ending up intertwining his fingers with yours. “okay,”
who would believe he is a centuries old vampire is acting like a shy highschool guy with his crush?
sunghoon has been in relationships, good and bad, happy and sad, but none made him feel so alive. all his life, he has only heard one thing : stick with your people, never fall for a human but unfortunately— or fortunately enough— you happen to be just his type.
the sun sets behind the closed curtains jn your living room and your boyfriend lets go of one of your hands to check the time. and then the words leave your mouth on their own. “stay for the night?”
his brain short circuits, words failing him as he feels his face heat up. a tint if red settles on the tips of his ears and he scurries to the kitchen when he notices your empty glass of water. “focus on recovering first,”
and it takes you a few seconds to process his words before your cheeks heat up as well. “i was not thinking about that!”
nothing about the past few weeks feels real— especially the last few days that definitely feel like a fever dream.
you had police and investigators all over you for the first few days, even though you wanted none of it. riki and sunoo had made sure your name was out of every news report that reached the media, but some people still looked at you like you were some otherworldly creature.
the hospital stay did not make you crazy thanks to your friends and sunghoon, and of course, his friends too who visited a few times.
most importantly, you had finally apologised to jungwon for doubting him all along— well, in your defence, he was acting a little suspicious. nonetheless, you both sorted it out and decided to have a little celebratory dinner once you’ve recovered. ( mainly because he escaped his suspension by a thin line )
despite all, you couldn’t wait to get home and when you finally do, it feels like everything has fallen into place.
a soft “careful,” rolls off sunghoon’s tongue as he helps you settle on your couch. he puts a cushion behind you and puts your legs up on the couch before standing up— still awkward as always. “i’ll go get water,”
sunghoon has been attentive, looking out for all your needs and feelings. the way he cares of you makes you wonder if you are an open book, because whenever you look in front of you, he is always there with what you need without even you having to tell him.
just like now, as he returns with a glass of water and cookies that you like.
he’s not even sure if you should eating all that already— it’s barely been a few hours since you had gotten discharged. sunghoon only has one logic : if it makes you happy, he will get you that, like cookies, in this case.
you munch on the snack while watching him fuss over you, a gentle smile adoring your lips. he brings you blanket and peals oranges for you, all while keeping an eye on you from across the kitchen counter to make sure you aren’t in pain or discomfort.
when he returns with a bowl full of oranges and cherries, your lips automatically curl into the sweetest smile. “thank you,”
“just let me know if you need anything else,” and one thing you have realised is sunghoon is bad at things.
bad at taking compliments, bad at accepting your gratitude, bad at words. sunghoon is one thing and it’s all actions— like the way he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch ever so soft and cautious as if you are something precious. ( you are )
“do you want?” you ask, holding a cherry near his mouth, he looks so baffled like you just did some magic.
never in his a couple hundred years of life has sunghoon ever felt like this— happy, scared, shy, impatient and love— all at once.
he opens his mouth, lips brushing against your fingertips in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. his eyes never leave yours, so focused on you as the sweetness of cherry settles on his tongue, and then— his lips are on yours.
soft, a little cold and unmoving as if he doesn’t know what to do. when your hands abandon the fruit bowl to hold his face, sunghoon feels like this is okay, like he is doing something right.
his lips move against yours slow and sweet with a silver of hesitation— honestly, his mind is begging him to devour you right here, on your couch. if it weren’t for your condition, he’d have you pinned under him.
you pull back with a ghost of smile that disappears just as quickly as it formed. “we should stop,”
and at your words, his entire world comes to a halt.
stop? do you mean not kissing anymore?
“what? why?” he is panicking already, shifting a little closer to you, eyes frantically searching for any hint of discomfort. did hendo something wrong?
you tsk, trying to play it cool. “you keep kissing me but you haven’t even asked me out properly,”
oh.
right...asking you out. he completely forgot about that. frankly, he has been so lost thinking about wanting to kiss you, it completely slipped his mind to plan a proper confession.
he would’ve bought flowers and taken you out somewhere nice and romantic. not like he really cares about all that, but you do, and that’s enough for a reason for him to do it.
but now, he has nothing— no flowers or a romantic setting. just his racing heart and swety palms and a mind failing to come up with words when he needs them the most.
you’re looking at him so expectantly with those pretty eyes, he aches at the thought of ruining this for you.
“um,” he is hold his breath, literally. “be my, uh, girlfriend?”
it comes out so quiet and tender, barely above the silence in the room. his eyes search yours for a response, do you like it? did he do well? he waits for you to give him a sign before he might lose his mind.
but then you laugh— so heartful and melodic that he can’t tell if he is being insulted right now or not.
and the worst part is that you keep laughing, unable to hold back your smiles. he loves it, really, watching you being so happy is like finding a diamond mine. but right now, he needs you to say something and unlike you, he does not find this amusing. “very funny,”
the whole thing continues for a few more minutes— each one feeling like hell for him, by the way— before you finally stop and kiss the corner of his lips. “i’d love to be your girlfriend,”
despite his best efforts, he does end up smiling like a fool, reaching out to hold your hands— just slightly— then ending up intertwining his fingers with yours. “okay,”
who would believe he is a centuries old vampire is acting like a shy highschool guy with his crush?
sunghoon has been in relationships, good and bad, happy and sad, but none made him feel so alive. all his life, he has only heard one thing : stick with your people, never fall for a human but unfortunately— or fortunately enough— you happen to be just his type.
the sun sets behind the closed curtains jn your living room and your boyfriend lets go of one of your hands to check the time. and then the words leave your mouth on their own. “stay for the night?”
his brain short circuits, words failing him as he feels his face heat up. a tint if red settles on the tips of his ears and he scurries to the kitchen when he notices your empty glass of water. “focus on recovering first,”
and it takes you a few seconds to process his words before your cheeks heat up as well. “i was not thinking about that!”
nothing about the past few weeks feels real— especially the last few days that definitely feel like a fever dream.
you had police and investigators all over you for the first few days, even though you wanted none of it. riki and sunoo had made sure your name was out of every news report that reached the media, but some people still looked at you like you were some otherworldly creature.
the hospital stay did not make you crazy thanks to your friends and sunghoon, and of course, his friends too who visited a few times.
most importantly, you had finally apologised to jungwon for doubting him all along— well, in your defence, he was acting a little suspicious. nonetheless, you both sorted it out and decided to have a little celebratory dinner once you’ve recovered. ( mainly because he escaped his suspension by a thin line )
despite all, you couldn’t wait to get home and when you finally do, it feels like everything has fallen into place.
a soft “careful,” rolls off sunghoon’s tongue as he helps you settle on your couch. he puts a cushion behind you and puts your legs up on the couch before standing up— still awkward as always. “i’ll go get water,”
sunghoon has been attentive, looking out for all your needs and feelings. the way he cares of you makes you wonder if you are an open book, because whenever you look in front of you, he is always there with what you need without even you having to tell him.
just like now, as he returns with a glass of water and cookies that you like.
he’s not even sure if you should eating all that already— it’s barely been a few hours since you had gotten discharged. sunghoon only has one logic : if it makes you happy, he will get you that, like cookies, in this case.
you munch on the snack while watching him fuss over you, a gentle smile adoring your lips. he brings you blanket and peals oranges for you, all while keeping an eye on you from across the kitchen counter to make sure you aren’t in pain or discomfort.
when he returns with a bowl full of oranges and cherries, your lips automatically curl into the sweetest smile. “thank you,”
“just let me know if you need anything else,” and one thing you have realised is sunghoon is bad at things.
bad at taking compliments, bad at accepting your gratitude, bad at words. sunghoon is one thing and it’s all actions— like the way he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch ever so soft and cautious as if you are something precious. ( you are )
“do you want?” you ask, holding a cherry near his mouth, he looks so baffled like you just did some magic.
never in his a couple hundred years of life has sunghoon ever felt like this— happy, scared, shy, impatient and love— all at once.
he opens his mouth, lips brushing against your fingertips in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. his eyes never leave yours, so focused on you as the sweetness of cherry settles on his tongue, and then— his lips are on yours.
soft, a little cold and unmoving as if he doesn’t know what to do. when your hands abandon the fruit bowl to hold his face, sunghoon feels like this is okay, like he is doing something right.
his lips move against yours slow and sweet with a silver of hesitation— honestly, his mind is begging him to devour you right here, on your couch. if it weren’t for your condition, he’d have you pinned under him.
you pull back with a ghost of smile that disappears just as quickly as it formed. “we should stop,”
and at your words, his entire world comes to a halt.
stop? do you mean not kissing anymore?
“what? why?” he is panicking already, shifting a little closer to you, eyes frantically searching for any hint of discomfort. did hendo something wrong?
you tsk, trying to play it cool. “you keep kissing me but you haven’t even asked me out properly,”
oh.
right...asking you out. he completely forgot about that. frankly, he has been so lost thinking about wanting to kiss you, it completely slipped his mind to plan a proper confession.
he would’ve bought flowers and taken you out somewhere nice and romantic. not like he really cares about all that, but you do, and that’s enough for a reason for him to do it.
but now, he has nothing— no flowers or a romantic setting. just his racing heart and swety palms and a mind failing to come up with words when he needs them the most.
you’re looking at him so expectantly with those pretty eyes, he aches at the thought of ruining this for you.
“um,” he is hold his breath, literally. “be my, uh, girlfriend?”
it comes out so quiet and tender, barely above the silence in the room. his eyes search yours for a response, do you like it? did he do well? he waits for you to give him a sign before he might lose his mind.
but then you laugh— so heartful and melodic that he can’t tell if he is being insulted right now or not.
and the worst part is that you keep laughing, unable to hold back your smiles. he loves it, really, watching you being so happy is like finding a diamond mine. but right now, he needs you to say something and unlike you, he does not find this amusing. “very funny,”
the whole thing continues for a few more minutes— each one feeling like hell for him, by the way— before you finally stop and kiss the corner of his lips. “i’d love to be your girlfriend,”
despite his best efforts, he does end up smiling like a fool, reaching out to hold your hands— just slightly— then ending up intertwining his fingers with yours. “okay,”
who would believe he is a centuries old vampire is acting like a shy highschool guy with his crush?
sunghoon has been in relationships, good and bad, happy and sad, but none made him feel so alive. all his life, he has only heard one thing : stick with your people, never fall for a human but unfortunately— or fortunately enough— you happen to be just his type.
the sun sets behind the closed curtains jn your living room and your boyfriend lets go of one of your hands to check the time. and then the words leave your mouth on their own. “stay for the night?”
his brain short circuits, words failing him as he feels his face heat up. a tint if red settles on the tips of his ears and he scurries to the kitchen when he notices your empty glass of water. “focus on recovering first,”
and it takes you a few seconds to process his words before your cheeks heat up as well. “i was not thinking about that!”
phonk audio playlist, tiktok dance drafts and gym bro podcasts.
›› pairing 7hypen x 8th member! reader warnings crack , foul language , romantic interests , dick mention , taunts , teasing , trolling ENHYPEN x 8th MEMBER TEXT SERIES 愛 MLIST
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this is the most ass filler chap ive ever come up with, jokes aside sunghoons genuinely a mogger like this is looksmaxxing premium hello...
you, in danger, at the hospital— it made no sense. they know you as his friend, you drop by too often to see him for it to be a secret. someone would tell him if you were in danger.
the boys decide to meet at the hospital’s parking basement, and sunoo shuts the car door behind him before speaking. “so, do we just go inside and look for her?”
“well, obviously,” while riki is busy rolling his eyes, sunghoon is already marching towards the entrance as if he’s about to fight a battle of life and death. ( technically, he is. )
“i’ll look on the third floor,” jungwon’s feet lead him to the elevator before anyone could say anything.
he likes to think all of this is a misunderstanding. you cannot disappear into thin air, nor does anyone have some personal vendetta against you to harm you.
perhaps, you just passed out somewhere. anemia can do that, your iron levels were alarming anyway.
the elevator doors open and jungwon is greeted by a nurse, although too lost in thoughts to greet her back. the third floor is never too busy, not during the day and definitely not at night.
“dr. yang?” the nurse at the nurse station interrupts with her brows furrowed, as if seeing jungwon in the hospital at this time is no less than a miracle. “are you on the night shift?”
he deflects— tries to. “no, i— uh, i forgot something,”
“if it’s about the research, you could’ve asked minju. she is in the lab,” despite the smile on her face, her words leave a confused frown on his face.
what the hell is she doing here at this time?
jungwon has way too many problems to sit and think about why one if the nurses is always on the night shift after completing her day shift too. he has always told her to go home or take a day off but she never listens.
and maybe, it was never his place to judge her but something about it felt so wrong right now.
the over-head lights flicker once before casting long, sterile shadows on the floor, and with hurried steps, jungwon decides to check inside the lab first.
he slides the white door open, looking around for any sign if you frantically— it’s all empty. he doesn’t know why he is looking for you here. why the hell would you be in the lab?
he goes through the rooms, some empty some having just one or two patients hooked to monitors, getting treated for cancers. every second without your presence pulls his heart into a relentless rhythm.
for a second, jungwon thinks you aren’t in the hospital at all.
maybe, something happened to you on the way home ( as much as that worries him even more. ) just the thought of that scares him to his bones, and jungwon sprints towards the emergency exit for the quickest way out.
until his eyes land on the minor operation theater, closed and lights off— his department barely has any cases to deal with at this hour. you are definitely not here, but taking a look wouldn’t hurt, right?
with sweaty palms, he pushes the door open and his heart drops to the floor at the sight if you on the operation table with your hands restrained and amidst all stands just one person.
park minju.
quiet and still, back facing his horrified face flushed in fear and disbelief, as if this is just another part of her routine. the faint clink of metal echoes as she adjusts something on the tray beside her.
your face is pale under the harsh lighting, your lips parted slightly, your lashes resting too peacefully against your cheeks.
and he stands a few feet away, frozen in place, like if he moves too fast, the entire scene will shatter into something worse. his chest rises and falls unevenly, eyes locked on you—searching, begging for any sign of movement.
“what the hell did you do to her?” when he finally manages to speak, his voice is strained—tight, like it’s being forced through his throat.
“nothing yet, she’s just sedated,” and her words are soft and quiet, laced in a certain type of normalcy that makes jungwon’s skin crawl.
out of all the scenarios playing in his mind, nothing can possibly explain why you are here like this with minju. is this why you were hesitant to take your shots? or asked to meet him everytime?
“why?” words come out sharper this time, cutting through the air and finally, making her turn towards him.
her expression looks pure as always— no panic, no guilt, no urgency.
“research,” his stomach twists at how calm she is, like this is usual, everyday— like she has been doing this for months. “she is the most stable one so far,”
“what do you mean?” the words echo slightly against the wall, swallowed by the empty room.
“the trial, dr. yang,” trial...that leaves a sense of dread in his heart. “she responds to the serum well— minus a few side effects. i’m sure we can fix it,”
there is no trial, at least none that he knows of. minju has mentioned wanting to do one but he always dismissed it as a joke— she said it with the most innocent smiles.
her gaze flickers back to you— his heart drops— and then back to him. he doesn’t get it. the words don’t land properly. they hover somewhere just out of reach, like his brain is refusing to process them.
just the thought of this is making his blood run cold. and amidst all, only one question plagues his mind.
has she been doing this all along? worse, are— were— there more people aside from you?
jungwon moves then—finally breaking out of whatever paralysis had held him in place. two quick steps and he’s at your side. his hand hovers over you for a second, unsure where to touch, like he’s afraid you might break.
then gently—too gently for the storm inside him—he grips your wrist.
your skin is warm, your pulse is there, and jungwon feels alive, like he could breathe despite the weight on his chest.
“you’re sick in the head,” words full of vitriol fall off his lips and it’s almost unsettling how quiet minju is through all this.
“this research can be big, it can be a breakthrough—”
she insists, but he cuts her off immediately. “there are better ways to do a research—correct ways,”
and that causes a crack behind her ever so calm eyes. “like what? waiting for approval for clinical trial from the ethics committee who will never sign it?”
frankly, jungwon knew what he was getting into when he proposed the research. it’s a divided world out there, always treding on the edge of humans or vampires.
coexistence was fragile, some people carried generational hatred towards the supernaturals and some vampires put themselves above human lives. even the idea of conducting a research to improve human lives using vampire biology could create a huge conflict.
not that it made sense to jungwon or any of his colleagues, but there are always radical opposites who refuse to compromise.
so, he decided to keep it low, a secret only open to the ones he trusts. the research is a breakthrough, a revolution in medical science and he couldn’t be more eager to see it become big.
but to do this— he looks at you again— it’s everything jungwon has always stood against.
“i’m taking her,” in one swift move, his hands are on the restraints, pulling and hoping to break you free.
“we’re so close,” she mumbles, letting him take his time while she turns to the tray table and picks up the injection, pushing the plunger— a drop just enough to remove the air bubbles.
“there’s no we here, minju,” he turns to her frantically, eyes shot red with anger and tears threatening to fall. it’s just you and your sick games that she will never be a part of,”
“too bad,” she takes a step closer, shrugging. “she already is,”
her hand comes up to his neck and a needle drives in— a sharp sting. he inhales sharply and shoves her back, stumbling a few steps away from her, hand flying to where the needle pierced through his skin.
the heat spreads quickly over his skin, breath stuttering. the room tilts just slightly and his vision flickers. minju turns to undo your restraints and all the alarms go off in his brain.
“hey— get up,” his voice falters and knees buckle, hands frantically tapping and shaking your arm. heaviness settles in his limbs like his body is being filled with sand, and with a thud, he collapses on the cold, sterile floor.
the edges of his vision darken as he sees minju put you on a wheelchair next. he forces himself to speak but words fail him. she puts on a mask over her mouth and nose before pushing you out of the operation theater— and then he goes out completely.
a whiff of antiseptic infiltrates your lungs before you wake up in a daze— eyes blurry with a headache that feels like someone just shot you in the head.
streaks if white light reach your eyes like a sting, making you flinch, your lashes squeezing shut before you force them open again.
everything spins.
you don’t even know where you are— well, it’s certainly not the laboratory where she sedated you probably what feels like hours ago.
the room swims into view in fragments—light, shadow, the edge of a metal table, something overturned on the floor. it takes a moment for everything to settle into place, but even then, nothing feels right. the air smells sharp, sterile, like antiseptic soaked into every surface
you expect to be bound, chained, but to your surprise, you’re simply on a stretcher in what seems like a big diagnostic room— not like that’s of any use. your limbs feel heavy and loose, you can’t fight even if you wanted to.
despite it all, you try to move, and a sharp sting shoots up your forearm. you whip your head to your left and see a IV administered on the back of your palm.
your breath stutters as panic creeps in, slow and suffocating, then you pull it out carelessly before attempting to get off the stretcher, weak and dizzy.
when you swing your legs over the side, your feet barely meet the floor before your knees threaten to buckle. there’s no strength in them— just trembling, unstable weight that feels like it could give out at any second.
still, you push and stand up, a hand flies to the nearest table for support. the sound of steel against the floor makes you flinch when you accidentally drop a tray.
your eyes fall upon the slightly open door and hope flickers— small, weak and fragile, but it is there.
just a few more steps.
all you have to do is get out to the hallway. someone will notice you after that, right? there has to be someone around who isn’t crazy.
you take a few more steps, using the walls for support. your head buzzes with pain with every step you take forward— then the door closes in front of you.
“you shouldn’t be getting up,” minju’s voice is oddly full of concern for someone who is the reason why you are like this. just the faux worry and saccharine words make you want to puke.
you notice the way she looks at you— not angry, but definitely not impressed either. for the first time since you’ve met her, you find those beautiful, doe eyes scary.
“let me go...” the words scrape out of your throat, more breath than sound. you grab her arm to push her away, but your arms tremble, strength failing almost instantly.
“that’s stupid,” she moves to the table and grabs something— a syringe— and your chest feels heavy again.
she removes the packaging and gives it a few empty pumps before picking up a vial. you take a few steps back and stumble against a metal stool, immediately falling on the cold floor.
the liquid fills the syringe swiftly, pale yellow, exactly like the ones she used to give you, and then she gives the barrel a few taps to get the air bubbles out.
you scramble back on the floor as she steps closer to you, heart thumping aginst your chest. it’s almost unbelievable— how does no one know she is here doing all this?
your eyes meet hers when she crouches in front of you, her hand reaching out to grip your arms. you try to push— really do— but whatever she gave you earlier to put you out still hasn’t worn off your system.
“jungwon...” when his name falls off your lips, hushed and trembling, she scoffs as if mocking your desperation.
“he won’t come,” and your eyes tear up at the implications behind those words. “in fact, no one is coming to save you,” before you could protest, she pushes the needle into your arm— and you collapse on the floor again.
“did you find her?” jay’s voice cuts through the phone and sunghoon runs his fingers through his hair frantically.
“no, she’s not here,” he had been looking around on the ground floor ever since they arrived. he went up to the vip wards to heeseung when the later said he saw you only, only for it to be a patient’s relative.
sunghoon pauses when he hears someone else on the other side of the phone— something about you not being on the terrace and in the canteen either— it takes him a few moments to guess that the voice belongs to riki.
“what about jungwon?” the name feels a little foreign on sunghoon’s tongue— almost bitter. he knows that there is a huge chance jungwon is not behind this, but he still cannot bring himself to look at him in a different light.
on the other side of the line, jay frowns in doubt. “has anyone even contacted him? he isn’t picking up my calls,”
“mine either,” sunghoon sighs, and somewhere near jay, riki also mentions the same observation. one time could be a mistake and maybe, jungwon didn’t want to answer sunghoon’s call for personal reasons.
but thrice marks and alert and while jay says he will get in touch with everyone to ask if anyone has heard from jungwon, sunghoon runs to take the elevator to the third floor.
( riki jokes about having to find yet another person and calls jungwon a bum, but sunghoon chooses to ignore that. )
the seconds drag, each one stretching thinner than the last, his reflection staring back at him from the metal doors—jaw clenched, eyes sharper than they should be.
when the doors slide open with a chime, an unsettling silence greets him. something is so wrong and it’s on the third floor, he can feel it i his bones.
there’s an empty nurse station— maybe the person on shift went to use the restroom. his steps are fast and echoing down the corridor as he scans everything— doors, corners, shadows. the lab—
he pushes the door open without wasting any more time, voice sharper than intended. “jungwon?”
when he gets no answer, his chest tightens and he turns immediately, heading back out and mind racing with every possibility, each worse than the previous one.
at some point, sunghoon decides to look through all the floors himself, wanting to believe nothing but what his eyes see.
when the elevator takes too long, he runs to take the nearest emergency stairs to the floor above. taking the stairs two at a time, his movements are faster now, urgency bleeding into every step.
upon reaching the fourth floor, he repeats the same— checking past every door and corner. this floor is a little more livelier than the one below, and something about that tells sunghoon that you aren’t here.
he takes the stairs to the floor above, feeling himself going crazy with every second that goes without seeing you.
when sunghoon pushes the door open to the fifth floor, he is met him darker and quieter hallways with overhead signs— USG to the right, MRI and X-ray up ahead, and then a muffled screech of metal against the tiles reaches his ears.
his eyes sweep quickly to the direction of the sound and there it is— CT scan room, door ajar, faint streaks of light streaming through the gap kn between.
sunghoon feels it before he even reaches the door— the kind of silence that presses in, wrong in a way he can’t ignore. his steps slow just slightly as he approaches, eyes flicking over to the door handle before be pushes the door open.
minju turns instantly.
the sound of the door hitting the wall is sharp, abrupt, and for the first time since any of this began— she looks surprised.
she straightens quickly from where she’d been crouched, her hand still hovering near the tray beside her, eyes narrowing as they land on him while his scan around for you—
and there you are— half limp on the floor struggling to keep your eyes open. sunghoon couldn’t even think before his feet lead him to tour side.
minju stands up to block him, her face slowly morphing into what looks like panic and annoyance. “this floor is restricted—”
but sunghoon doesn’t wait for her to finish. his hand comes up to grab her arm and shoves her aside with enough force that makes her stumble back. “move!”
he’s past her in an instant and then he sees you, half conscious and barely moving and suddenly, everything else disappears.
he’s at your side immediately, dropping to his knees beside you, one hand sliding under your shoulder and the other coming up to your face, turning it gently toward him. “look at me, please,”
your eyes flutter open through a familiar feeling— the same one you had every time she gave you those shots, just ten times worse this time.
“it’s okay,” his voice is softer than ever, holding you securely as your body sags against him when he tries to lift you. “i’ve got you,”
behind him, minju recovers fast.
her surprise is gone just as soon as it came, now replaced with something sharper as her gaze shifts between you and him. “you shouldn’t be here,”
sunghoon ignores her completely, his focus entirely on you as he holds you in his arms. “can you speak?”
minju’s eyes narrow.
“you need to leave,” her words are firmer now as she grabs something from the tray before stepping closer.
still no response— his entire focus is on your well-being— and that’s when she decides. her hand moves quickly— quick and precise— the metal flashes under the dim light.
she lunges fast but sunghoon has always been faster— humans are slow, after all. he moves instinctively, pulling you closer to his chest— he turns, the scalpel slicing through the empty space where he had been just seconds ago.
a bare miss.
she almost freezes at his reaction time. that was...out of ordinary. her grip tightens around the scalpel, determined to not miss this time. “you’re making a mistake,”
her tone is sharp, patience running thin with every second that he spends in this room being a hindrance. sunghoon turns away from you almost hesitantly before facing him. “that makes the two of us,”
and that’s it, that was the line.
she moves again, this time more aggressively with the blade coming down directed straight at his eye but sunghoon dodges cleanly, shifting his weight with unnatural precision, turning his body just enough to avoid the strike.
the blade grazes his cheek, not deep but just enough to cause a little cut. he wipes the blood with the back of his hand as she speaks, stunned. “what are you?”
minju doesn’t really wait for a response, already striking again with more force. his free hand catches her wrist mid-attack, stopping her completely. the force of it halts her movement instantly and her grip falters for the first time.
the scalpel slips from her hand— his grip was definitely going to cause a bruise on the wrist, but she hits his pelvis with her knees and the force knocks the air out of him, making him stumble back with a groan.
sunghoon doesn’t get time to recover before minju picks up the scalpel and forces you to stand up with an arm around your neck from behind, the other pointing the instrument directly at your neck. “i told you you’re making a mistake,”
your head rolls weakly against her shoulder, breath faint, barely there. the scalpel glints in the corner of your eyes and your stomach churns in fear.
sunghoon takes a step ahead. “don’t—”
“stop,” her voice cuts through sharply and the scalpel presses against your throat, cold and sharp.
your breath stutters weakly at the sensation, a faint, broken sound leaving your lips. “...hoon…” you whisper, barely conscious.
he tries to step again, but minju presses the blade against your neck, your eyes prickling with tears. you are in danger while sunghoon feels like he is closer to death than he has ever been.
“step back,” minju says, her tone calm—but edged now, “slowly,” the blade presses just slightly deeper— not enough to break skin, but enough to make the threat clear.
and for the first time, he hesitates, feelings helpless and disarmed all of a sudden while you are looking at him through blurry eyes, begging for help.
minju watches him carefully as if she is calculating his every movement and breath. once he’s far back enough from the door, she starts moving, dragging you with her, step by step, closer to the door.
“you’re making this worse—” he attempts to speak, or divert her, but the blade presses again and his mouth falls shut again. her hand shifts, reaching for the handle while still holding you in place, using your body as a shield between her and him.
she’s almost out, a wicked grin on her lips as if showcasing her victory. but the door opens and she straight into them— riki and jay— too sudden for her to move away.
sunghoon takes a breath of relief when he sees the two of them already standing there, looking like they just ran a mile.
the second minju crosses the threshold, jay’s hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist— the one holding the scalpel— and twists it hard. a sharp clatter echoes as the blade slips from her fingers, skidding across the floor.
she jerks against jay’s hold, trying to wrench her arm free, but his grip only tightens, locking her in place. “let go!”
jay doesn’t flinch, keeping her away from you “yeah, that’s not happening,” he mutters, forcing her arm further back, keeping her off-balance.
while minju tries to pry him off, pushing and pulling, riki’s hands come in steady and precise, slipping between you and her grip, prying you free before she can react properly. “i’ve got her!”
behind them, sunghoon is there is seconds the moment you’re out of her hold, his hands immediately replacing riki’s— careful but urgent as he takes you from him.
your head falls weakly against his shoulders and his hand comes up to hold your face, ever so gentle and cautious. “stay with me,”
minju finally manages to twist slightly, trying to break free again. “do you even know what you’re doing?” she snaps, her voice sharper amd edged with something frantic. “you’re ruining everything—”
but jay shoves her forward slightly, forcing her to lose balance again. “no,” he shoots back, “you did that all on your own,”
riki kicks the scalpel farther down the hallway, out of reach before looking at sunghoon. “sunoo said he’s calling security,”
sunghoon just nods mindlessly, her entire focus on you. in a swift movement, he picks up in his arms with ease, carrying you down the hallway with steps fast but careful, like he is carrying something fragile.
all he cares about right now is getting you treated.
behind him, minju tries to struggle to get out of jay’s hold once again before she gives up, knowing you are gone now...for better.
within minutes, security filters through along with a few hospital staff, some horrified and others in disbelief. gasps and curses fill the hallway as one of the female security officer cuffs minju’s hand.
“i guess we’re done here,” jay exhales, already planning to leave. he does not want to spend another second here and become a subject of interrogation from anyone.
“no,” however, riki sighs, running his fingers through his hair as if gearing up for another around. “we have to find jungwon,”
from, malenaㅤFINALLY! i hope this is not a whole lot of nothing burger because i wrote this days apart .. big credits to my irl friend for helping me with some scenes i know she will never see this but my babie i love you :3
you, in danger, at the hospital— it made no sense. they know you as his friend, you drop by too often to see him for it to be a secret. someone would tell him if you were in danger.
the boys decide to meet at the hospital’s parking basement, and sunoo shuts the car door behind him before speaking. “so, do we just go inside and look for her?”
“well, obviously,” while riki is busy rolling his eyes, sunghoon is already marching towards the entrance as if he’s about to fight a battle of life and death. ( technically, he is. )
“i’ll look on the third floor,” jungwon’s feet lead him to the elevator before anyone could say anything.
he likes to think all of this is a misunderstanding. you cannot disappear into thin air, nor does anyone have some personal vendetta against you to harm you.
perhaps, you just passed out somewhere. anemia can do that, your iron levels were alarming anyway.
the elevator doors open and jungwon is greeted by a nurse, although too lost in thoughts to greet her back. the third floor is never too busy, not during the day and definitely not at night.
“dr. yang?” the nurse at the nurse station interrupts with her brows furrowed, as if seeing jungwon in the hospital at this time is no less than a miracle. “are you on the night shift?”
he deflects— tries to. “no, i— uh, i forgot something,”
“if it’s about the research, you could’ve asked minju. she is in the lab,” despite the smile on her face, her words leave a confused frown on his face.
what the hell is she doing here at this time?
jungwon has way too many problems to sit and think about why one if the nurses is always on the night shift after completing her day shift too. he has always told her to go home or take a day off but she never listens.
and maybe, it was never his place to judge her but something about it felt so wrong right now.
the over-head lights flicker once before casting long, sterile shadows on the floor, and with hurried steps, jungwon decides to check inside the lab first.
he slides the white door open, looking around for any sign if you frantically— it’s all empty. he doesn’t know why he is looking for you here. why the hell would you be in the lab?
he goes through the rooms, some empty some having just one or two patients hooked to monitors, getting treated for cancers. every second without your presence pulls his heart into a relentless rhythm.
for a second, jungwon thinks you aren’t in the hospital at all.
maybe, something happened to you on the way home ( as much as that worries him even more. ) just the thought of that scares him to his bones, and jungwon sprints towards the emergency exit for the quickest way out.
until his eyes land on the minor operation theater, closed and lights off— his department barely has any cases to deal with at this hour. you are definitely not here, but taking a look wouldn’t hurt, right?
with sweaty palms, he pushes the door open and his heart drops to the floor at the sight if you on the operation table with your hands restrained and amidst all stands just one person.
park minju.
quiet and still, back facing his horrified face flushed in fear and disbelief, as if this is just another part of her routine. the faint clink of metal echoes as she adjusts something on the tray beside her.
your face is pale under the harsh lighting, your lips parted slightly, your lashes resting too peacefully against your cheeks.
and he stands a few feet away, frozen in place, like if he moves too fast, the entire scene will shatter into something worse. his chest rises and falls unevenly, eyes locked on you—searching, begging for any sign of movement.
“what the hell did you do to her?” when he finally manages to speak, his voice is strained—tight, like it’s being forced through his throat.
“nothing yet, she’s just sedated,” and her words are soft and quiet, laced in a certain type of normalcy that makes jungwon’s skin crawl.
out of all the scenarios playing in his mind, nothing can possibly explain why you are here like this with minju. is this why you were hesitant to take your shots? or asked to meet him everytime?
“why?” words come out sharper this time, cutting through the air and finally, making her turn towards him.
her expression looks pure as always— no panic, no guilt, no urgency.
“research,” his stomach twists at how calm she is, like this is usual, everyday— like she has been doing this for months. “she is the most stable one so far,”
“what do you mean?” the words echo slightly against the wall, swallowed by the empty room.
“the trial, dr. yang,” trial...that leaves a sense of dread in his heart. “she responds to the serum well— minus a few side effects. i’m sure we can fix it,”
there is no trial, at least none that he knows of. minju has mentioned wanting to do one but he always dismissed it as a joke— she said it with the most innocent smiles.
her gaze flickers back to you— his heart drops— and then back to him. he doesn’t get it. the words don’t land properly. they hover somewhere just out of reach, like his brain is refusing to process them.
just the thought of this is making his blood run cold. and amidst all, only one question plagues his mind.
has she been doing this all along? worse, are— were— there more people aside from you?
jungwon moves then—finally breaking out of whatever paralysis had held him in place. two quick steps and he’s at your side. his hand hovers over you for a second, unsure where to touch, like he’s afraid you might break.
then gently—too gently for the storm inside him—he grips your wrist.
your skin is warm, your pulse is there, and jungwon feels alive, like he could breathe despite the weight on his chest.
“you’re sick in the head,” words full of vitriol fall off his lips and it’s almost unsettling how quiet minju is through all this.
“this research can be big, it can be a breakthrough—”
she insists, but he cuts her off immediately. “there are better ways to do a research—correct ways,”
and that causes a crack behind her ever so calm eyes. “like what? waiting for approval for clinical trial from the ethics committee who will never sign it?”
frankly, jungwon knew what he was getting into when he proposed the research. it’s a divided world out there, always treding on the edge of humans or vampires.
coexistence was fragile, some people carried generational hatred towards the supernaturals and some vampires put themselves above human lives. even the idea of conducting a research to improve human lives using vampire biology could create a huge conflict.
not that it made sense to jungwon or any of his colleagues, but there are always radical opposites who refuse to compromise.
so, he decided to keep it low, a secret only open to the ones he trusts. the research is a breakthrough, a revolution in medical science and he couldn’t be more eager to see it become big.
but to do this— he looks at you again— it’s everything jungwon has always stood against.
“i’m taking her,” in one swift move, his hands are on the restraints, pulling and hoping to break you free.
“we’re so close,” she mumbles, letting him take his time while she turns to the tray table and picks up the injection, pushing the plunger— a drop just enough to remove the air bubbles.
“there’s no we here, minju,” he turns to her frantically, eyes shot red with anger and tears threatening to fall. it’s just you and your sick games that she will never be a part of,”
“too bad,” she takes a step closer, shrugging. “she already is,”
her hand comes up to his neck and a needle drives in— a sharp sting. he inhales sharply and shoves her back, stumbling a few steps away from her, hand flying to where the needle pierced through his skin.
the heat spreads quickly over his skin, breath stuttering. the room tilts just slightly and his vision flickers. minju turns to undo your restraints and all the alarms go off in his brain.
“hey— get up,” his voice falters and knees buckle, hands frantically tapping and shaking your arm. heaviness settles in his limbs like his body is being filled with sand, and with a thud, he collapses on the cold, sterile floor.
the edges of his vision darken as he sees minju put you on a wheelchair next. he forces himself to speak but words fail him. she puts on a mask over her mouth and nose before pushing you out of the operation theater— and then he goes out completely.
a whiff of antiseptic infiltrates your lungs before you wake up in a daze— eyes blurry with a headache that feels like someone just shot you in the head.
streaks if white light reach your eyes like a sting, making you flinch, your lashes squeezing shut before you force them open again.
everything spins.
you don’t even know where you are— well, it’s certainly not the laboratory where she sedated you probably what feels like hours ago.
the room swims into view in fragments—light, shadow, the edge of a metal table, something overturned on the floor. it takes a moment for everything to settle into place, but even then, nothing feels right. the air smells sharp, sterile, like antiseptic soaked into every surface
you expect to be bound, chained, but to your surprise, you’re simply on a stretcher in what seems like a big diagnostic room— not like that’s of any use. your limbs feel heavy and loose, you can’t fight even if you wanted to.
despite it all, you try to move, and a sharp sting shoots up your forearm. you whip your head to your left and see a IV administered on the back of your palm.
your breath stutters as panic creeps in, slow and suffocating, then you pull it out carelessly before attempting to get off the stretcher, weak and dizzy.
when you swing your legs over the side, your feet barely meet the floor before your knees threaten to buckle. there’s no strength in them— just trembling, unstable weight that feels like it could give out at any second.
still, you push and stand up, a hand flies to the nearest table for support. the sound of steel against the floor makes you flinch when you accidentally drop a tray.
your eyes fall upon the slightly open door and hope flickers— small, weak and fragile, but it is there.
just a few more steps.
all you have to do is get out to the hallway. someone will notice you after that, right? there has to be someone around who isn’t crazy.
you take a few more steps, using the walls for support. your head buzzes with pain with every step you take forward— then the door closes in front of you.
“you shouldn’t be getting up,” minju’s voice is oddly full of concern for someone who is the reason why you are like this. just the faux worry and saccharine words make you want to puke.
you notice the way she looks at you— not angry, but definitely not impressed either. for the first time since you’ve met her, you find those beautiful, doe eyes scary.
“let me go...” the words scrape out of your throat, more breath than sound. you grab her arm to push her away, but your arms tremble, strength failing almost instantly.
“that’s stupid,” she moves to the table and grabs something— a syringe— and your chest feels heavy again.
she removes the packaging and gives it a few empty pumps before picking up a vial. you take a few steps back and stumble against a metal stool, immediately falling on the cold floor.
the liquid fills the syringe swiftly, pale yellow, exactly like the ones she used to give you, and then she gives the barrel a few taps to get the air bubbles out.
you scramble back on the floor as she steps closer to you, heart thumping aginst your chest. it’s almost unbelievable— how does no one know she is here doing all this?
your eyes meet hers when she crouches in front of you, her hand reaching out to grip your arms. you try to push— really do— but whatever she gave you earlier to put you out still hasn’t worn off your system.
“jungwon...” when his name falls off your lips, hushed and trembling, she scoffs as if mocking your desperation.
“he won’t come,” and your eyes tear up at the implications behind those words. “in fact, no one is coming to save you,” before you could protest, she pushes the needle into your arm— and you collapse on the floor again.
“did you find her?” jay’s voice cuts through the phone and sunghoon runs his fingers through his hair frantically.
“no, she’s not here,” he had been looking around on the ground floor ever since they arrived. he went up to the vip wards to heeseung when the later said he saw you only, only for it to be a patient’s relative.
sunghoon pauses when he hears someone else on the other side of the phone— something about you not being on the terrace and in the canteen either— it takes him a few moments to guess that the voice belongs to riki.
“what about jungwon?” the name feels a little foreign on sunghoon’s tongue— almost bitter. he knows that there is a huge chance jungwon is not behind this, but he still cannot bring himself to look at him in a different light.
on the other side of the line, jay frowns in doubt. “has anyone even contacted him? he isn’t picking up my calls,”
“mine either,” sunghoon sighs, and somewhere near jay, riki also mentions the same observation. one time could be a mistake and maybe, jungwon didn’t want to answer sunghoon’s call for personal reasons.
but thrice marks and alert and while jay says he will get in touch with everyone to ask if anyone has heard from jungwon, sunghoon runs to take the elevator to the third floor.
( riki jokes about having to find yet another person and calls jungwon a bum, but sunghoon chooses to ignore that. )
the seconds drag, each one stretching thinner than the last, his reflection staring back at him from the metal doors—jaw clenched, eyes sharper than they should be.
when the doors slide open with a chime, an unsettling silence greets him. something is so wrong and it’s on the third floor, he can feel it i his bones.
there’s an empty nurse station— maybe the person on shift went to use the restroom. his steps are fast and echoing down the corridor as he scans everything— doors, corners, shadows. the lab—
he pushes the door open without wasting any more time, voice sharper than intended. “jungwon?”
when he gets no answer, his chest tightens and he turns immediately, heading back out and mind racing with every possibility, each worse than the previous one.
at some point, sunghoon decides to look through all the floors himself, wanting to believe nothing but what his eyes see.
when the elevator takes too long, he runs to take the nearest emergency stairs to the floor above. taking the stairs two at a time, his movements are faster now, urgency bleeding into every step.
upon reaching the fourth floor, he repeats the same— checking past every door and corner. this floor is a little more livelier than the one below, and something about that tells sunghoon that you aren’t here.
he takes the stairs to the floor above, feeling himself going crazy with every second that goes without seeing you.
when sunghoon pushes the door open to the fifth floor, he is met him darker and quieter hallways with overhead signs— USG to the right, MRI and X-ray up ahead, and then a muffled screech of metal against the tiles reaches his ears.
his eyes sweep quickly to the direction of the sound and there it is— CT scan room, door ajar, faint streaks of light streaming through the gap kn between.
sunghoon feels it before he even reaches the door— the kind of silence that presses in, wrong in a way he can’t ignore. his steps slow just slightly as he approaches, eyes flicking over to the door handle before be pushes the door open.
minju turns instantly.
the sound of the door hitting the wall is sharp, abrupt, and for the first time since any of this began— she looks surprised.
she straightens quickly from where she’d been crouched, her hand still hovering near the tray beside her, eyes narrowing as they land on him while his scan around for you—
and there you are— half limp on the floor struggling to keep your eyes open. sunghoon couldn’t even think before his feet lead him to tour side.
minju stands up to block him, her face slowly morphing into what looks like panic and annoyance. “this floor is restricted—”
but sunghoon doesn’t wait for her to finish. his hand comes up to grab her arm and shoves her aside with enough force that makes her stumble back. “move!”
he’s past her in an instant and then he sees you, half conscious and barely moving and suddenly, everything else disappears.
he’s at your side immediately, dropping to his knees beside you, one hand sliding under your shoulder and the other coming up to your face, turning it gently toward him. “look at me, please,”
your eyes flutter open through a familiar feeling— the same one you had every time she gave you those shots, just ten times worse this time.
“it’s okay,” his voice is softer than ever, holding you securely as your body sags against him when he tries to lift you. “i’ve got you,”
behind him, minju recovers fast.
her surprise is gone just as soon as it came, now replaced with something sharper as her gaze shifts between you and him. “you shouldn’t be here,”
sunghoon ignores her completely, his focus entirely on you as he holds you in his arms. “can you speak?”
minju’s eyes narrow.
“you need to leave,” her words are firmer now as she grabs something from the tray before stepping closer.
still no response— his entire focus is on your well-being— and that’s when she decides. her hand moves quickly— quick and precise— the metal flashes under the dim light.
she lunges fast but sunghoon has always been faster— humans are slow, after all. he moves instinctively, pulling you closer to his chest— he turns, the scalpel slicing through the empty space where he had been just seconds ago.
a bare miss.
she almost freezes at his reaction time. that was...out of ordinary. her grip tightens around the scalpel, determined to not miss this time. “you’re making a mistake,”
her tone is sharp, patience running thin with every second that he spends in this room being a hindrance. sunghoon turns away from you almost hesitantly before facing him. “that makes the two of us,”
and that’s it, that was the line.
she moves again, this time more aggressively with the blade coming down directed straight at his eye but sunghoon dodges cleanly, shifting his weight with unnatural precision, turning his body just enough to avoid the strike.
the blade grazes his cheek, not deep but just enough to cause a little cut. he wipes the blood with the back of his hand as she speaks, stunned. “what are you?”
minju doesn’t really wait for a response, already striking again with more force. his free hand catches her wrist mid-attack, stopping her completely. the force of it halts her movement instantly and her grip falters for the first time.
the scalpel slips from her hand— his grip was definitely going to cause a bruise on the wrist, but she hits his pelvis with her knees and the force knocks the air out of him, making him stumble back with a groan.
sunghoon doesn’t get time to recover before minju picks up the scalpel and forces you to stand up with an arm around your neck from behind, the other pointing the instrument directly at your neck. “i told you you’re making a mistake,”
your head rolls weakly against her shoulder, breath faint, barely there. the scalpel glints in the corner of your eyes and your stomach churns in fear.
sunghoon takes a step ahead. “don’t—”
“stop,” her voice cuts through sharply and the scalpel presses against your throat, cold and sharp.
your breath stutters weakly at the sensation, a faint, broken sound leaving your lips. “...hoon…” you whisper, barely conscious.
he tries to step again, but minju presses the blade against your neck, your eyes prickling with tears. you are in danger while sunghoon feels like he is closer to death than he has ever been.
“step back,” minju says, her tone calm—but edged now, “slowly,” the blade presses just slightly deeper— not enough to break skin, but enough to make the threat clear.
and for the first time, he hesitates, feelings helpless and disarmed all of a sudden while you are looking at him through blurry eyes, begging for help.
minju watches him carefully as if she is calculating his every movement and breath. once he’s far back enough from the door, she starts moving, dragging you with her, step by step, closer to the door.
“you’re making this worse—” he attempts to speak, or divert her, but the blade presses again and his mouth falls shut again. her hand shifts, reaching for the handle while still holding you in place, using your body as a shield between her and him.
she’s almost out, a wicked grin on her lips as if showcasing her victory. but the door opens and she straight into them— riki and jay— too sudden for her to move away.
sunghoon takes a breath of relief when he sees the two of them already standing there, looking like they just ran a mile.
the second minju crosses the threshold, jay’s hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist— the one holding the scalpel— and twists it hard. a sharp clatter echoes as the blade slips from her fingers, skidding across the floor.
she jerks against jay’s hold, trying to wrench her arm free, but his grip only tightens, locking her in place. “let go!”
jay doesn’t flinch, keeping her away from you “yeah, that’s not happening,” he mutters, forcing her arm further back, keeping her off-balance.
while minju tries to pry him off, pushing and pulling, riki’s hands come in steady and precise, slipping between you and her grip, prying you free before she can react properly. “i’ve got her!”
behind them, sunghoon is there is seconds the moment you’re out of her hold, his hands immediately replacing riki’s— careful but urgent as he takes you from him.
your head falls weakly against his shoulders and his hand comes up to hold your face, ever so gentle and cautious. “stay with me,”
minju finally manages to twist slightly, trying to break free again. “do you even know what you’re doing?” she snaps, her voice sharper amd edged with something frantic. “you’re ruining everything—”
but jay shoves her forward slightly, forcing her to lose balance again. “no,” he shoots back, “you did that all on your own,”
riki kicks the scalpel farther down the hallway, out of reach before looking at sunghoon. “sunoo said he’s calling security,”
sunghoon just nods mindlessly, her entire focus on you. in a swift movement, he picks up in his arms with ease, carrying you down the hallway with steps fast but careful, like he is carrying something fragile.
all he cares about right now is getting you treated.
behind him, minju tries to struggle to get out of jay’s hold once again before she gives up, knowing you are gone now...for better.
within minutes, security filters through along with a few hospital staff, some horrified and others in disbelief. gasps and curses fill the hallway as one of the female security officer cuffs minju’s hand.
“i guess we’re done here,” jay exhales, already planning to leave. he does not want to spend another second here and become a subject of interrogation from anyone.
“no,” however, riki sighs, running his fingers through his hair as if gearing up for another around. “we have to find jungwon,”
from, malenaㅤFINALLY! i hope this is not a whole lot of nothing burger because i wrote this days apart .. big credits to my irl friend for helping me with some scenes i know she will never see this but my babie i love you :3
you, in danger, at the hospital— it made no sense. they know you as his friend, you drop by too often to see him for it to be a secret. someone would tell him if you were in danger.
the boys decide to meet at the hospital’s parking basement, and sunoo shuts the car door behind him before speaking. “so, do we just go inside and look for her?”
“well, obviously,” while riki is busy rolling his eyes, sunghoon is already marching towards the entrance as if he’s about to fight a battle of life and death. ( technically, he is. )
“i’ll look on the third floor,” jungwon’s feet lead him to the elevator before anyone could say anything.
he likes to think all of this is a misunderstanding. you cannot disappear into thin air, nor does anyone have some personal vendetta against you to harm you.
perhaps, you just passed out somewhere. anemia can do that, your iron levels were alarming anyway.
the elevator doors open and jungwon is greeted by a nurse, although too lost in thoughts to greet her back. the third floor is never too busy, not during the day and definitely not at night.
“dr. yang?” the nurse at the nurse station interrupts with her brows furrowed, as if seeing jungwon in the hospital at this time is no less than a miracle. “are you on the night shift?”
he deflects— tries to. “no, i— uh, i forgot something,”
“if it’s about the research, you could’ve asked minju. she is in the lab,” despite the smile on her face, her words leave a confused frown on his face.
what the hell is she doing here at this time?
jungwon has way too many problems to sit and think about why one if the nurses is always on the night shift after completing her day shift too. he has always told her to go home or take a day off but she never listens.
and maybe, it was never his place to judge her but something about it felt so wrong right now.
the over-head lights flicker once before casting long, sterile shadows on the floor, and with hurried steps, jungwon decides to check inside the lab first.
he slides the white door open, looking around for any sign if you frantically— it’s all empty. he doesn’t know why he is looking for you here. why the hell would you be in the lab?
he goes through the rooms, some empty some having just one or two patients hooked to monitors, getting treated for cancers. every second without your presence pulls his heart into a relentless rhythm.
for a second, jungwon thinks you aren’t in the hospital at all.
maybe, something happened to you on the way home ( as much as that worries him even more. ) just the thought of that scares him to his bones, and jungwon sprints towards the emergency exit for the quickest way out.
until his eyes land on the minor operation theater, closed and lights off— his department barely has any cases to deal with at this hour. you are definitely not here, but taking a look wouldn’t hurt, right?
with sweaty palms, he pushes the door open and his heart drops to the floor at the sight if you on the operation table with your hands restrained and amidst all stands just one person.
park minju.
quiet and still, back facing his horrified face flushed in fear and disbelief, as if this is just another part of her routine. the faint clink of metal echoes as she adjusts something on the tray beside her.
your face is pale under the harsh lighting, your lips parted slightly, your lashes resting too peacefully against your cheeks.
and he stands a few feet away, frozen in place, like if he moves too fast, the entire scene will shatter into something worse. his chest rises and falls unevenly, eyes locked on you—searching, begging for any sign of movement.
“what the hell did you do to her?” when he finally manages to speak, his voice is strained—tight, like it’s being forced through his throat.
“nothing yet, she’s just sedated,” and her words are soft and quiet, laced in a certain type of normalcy that makes jungwon’s skin crawl.
out of all the scenarios playing in his mind, nothing can possibly explain why you are here like this with minju. is this why you were hesitant to take your shots? or asked to meet him everytime?
“why?” words come out sharper this time, cutting through the air and finally, making her turn towards him.
her expression looks pure as always— no panic, no guilt, no urgency.
“research,” his stomach twists at how calm she is, like this is usual, everyday— like she has been doing this for months. “she is the most stable one so far,”
“what do you mean?” the words echo slightly against the wall, swallowed by the empty room.
“the trial, dr. yang,” trial...that leaves a sense of dread in his heart. “she responds to the serum well— minus a few side effects. i’m sure we can fix it,”
there is no trial, at least none that he knows of. minju has mentioned wanting to do one but he always dismissed it as a joke— she said it with the most innocent smiles.
her gaze flickers back to you— his heart drops— and then back to him. he doesn’t get it. the words don’t land properly. they hover somewhere just out of reach, like his brain is refusing to process them.
just the thought of this is making his blood run cold. and amidst all, only one question plagues his mind.
has she been doing this all along? worse, are— were— there more people aside from you?
jungwon moves then—finally breaking out of whatever paralysis had held him in place. two quick steps and he’s at your side. his hand hovers over you for a second, unsure where to touch, like he’s afraid you might break.
then gently—too gently for the storm inside him—he grips your wrist.
your skin is warm, your pulse is there, and jungwon feels alive, like he could breathe despite the weight on his chest.
“you’re sick in the head,” words full of vitriol fall off his lips and it’s almost unsettling how quiet minju is through all this.
“this research can be big, it can be a breakthrough—”
she insists, but he cuts her off immediately. “there are better ways to do a research—correct ways,”
and that causes a crack behind her ever so calm eyes. “like what? waiting for approval for clinical trial from the ethics committee who will never sign it?”
frankly, jungwon knew what he was getting into when he proposed the research. it’s a divided world out there, always treding on the edge of humans or vampires.
coexistence was fragile, some people carried generational hatred towards the supernaturals and some vampires put themselves above human lives. even the idea of conducting a research to improve human lives using vampire biology could create a huge conflict.
not that it made sense to jungwon or any of his colleagues, but there are always radical opposites who refuse to compromise.
so, he decided to keep it low, a secret only open to the ones he trusts. the research is a breakthrough, a revolution in medical science and he couldn’t be more eager to see it become big.
but to do this— he looks at you again— it’s everything jungwon has always stood against.
“i’m taking her,” in one swift move, his hands are on the restraints, pulling and hoping to break you free.
“we’re so close,” she mumbles, letting him take his time while she turns to the tray table and picks up the injection, pushing the plunger— a drop just enough to remove the air bubbles.
“there’s no we here, minju,” he turns to her frantically, eyes shot red with anger and tears threatening to fall. it’s just you and your sick games that she will never be a part of,”
“too bad,” she takes a step closer, shrugging. “she already is,”
her hand comes up to his neck and a needle drives in— a sharp sting. he inhales sharply and shoves her back, stumbling a few steps away from her, hand flying to where the needle pierced through his skin.
the heat spreads quickly over his skin, breath stuttering. the room tilts just slightly and his vision flickers. minju turns to undo your restraints and all the alarms go off in his brain.
“hey— get up,” his voice falters and knees buckle, hands frantically tapping and shaking your arm. heaviness settles in his limbs like his body is being filled with sand, and with a thud, he collapses on the cold, sterile floor.
the edges of his vision darken as he sees minju put you on a wheelchair next. he forces himself to speak but words fail him. she puts on a mask over her mouth and nose before pushing you out of the operation theater— and then he goes out completely.
a whiff of antiseptic infiltrates your lungs before you wake up in a daze— eyes blurry with a headache that feels like someone just shot you in the head.
streaks if white light reach your eyes like a sting, making you flinch, your lashes squeezing shut before you force them open again.
everything spins.
you don’t even know where you are— well, it’s certainly not the laboratory where she sedated you probably what feels like hours ago.
the room swims into view in fragments—light, shadow, the edge of a metal table, something overturned on the floor. it takes a moment for everything to settle into place, but even then, nothing feels right. the air smells sharp, sterile, like antiseptic soaked into every surface
you expect to be bound, chained, but to your surprise, you’re simply on a stretcher in what seems like a big diagnostic room— not like that’s of any use. your limbs feel heavy and loose, you can’t fight even if you wanted to.
despite it all, you try to move, and a sharp sting shoots up your forearm. you whip your head to your left and see a IV administered on the back of your palm.
your breath stutters as panic creeps in, slow and suffocating, then you pull it out carelessly before attempting to get off the stretcher, weak and dizzy.
when you swing your legs over the side, your feet barely meet the floor before your knees threaten to buckle. there’s no strength in them— just trembling, unstable weight that feels like it could give out at any second.
still, you push and stand up, a hand flies to the nearest table for support. the sound of steel against the floor makes you flinch when you accidentally drop a tray.
your eyes fall upon the slightly open door and hope flickers— small, weak and fragile, but it is there.
just a few more steps.
all you have to do is get out to the hallway. someone will notice you after that, right? there has to be someone around who isn’t crazy.
you take a few more steps, using the walls for support. your head buzzes with pain with every step you take forward— then the door closes in front of you.
“you shouldn’t be getting up,” minju’s voice is oddly full of concern for someone who is the reason why you are like this. just the faux worry and saccharine words make you want to puke.
you notice the way she looks at you— not angry, but definitely not impressed either. for the first time since you’ve met her, you find those beautiful, doe eyes scary.
“let me go...” the words scrape out of your throat, more breath than sound. you grab her arm to push her away, but your arms tremble, strength failing almost instantly.
“that’s stupid,” she moves to the table and grabs something— a syringe— and your chest feels heavy again.
she removes the packaging and gives it a few empty pumps before picking up a vial. you take a few steps back and stumble against a metal stool, immediately falling on the cold floor.
the liquid fills the syringe swiftly, pale yellow, exactly like the ones she used to give you, and then she gives the barrel a few taps to get the air bubbles out.
you scramble back on the floor as she steps closer to you, heart thumping aginst your chest. it’s almost unbelievable— how does no one know she is here doing all this?
your eyes meet hers when she crouches in front of you, her hand reaching out to grip your arms. you try to push— really do— but whatever she gave you earlier to put you out still hasn’t worn off your system.
“jungwon...” when his name falls off your lips, hushed and trembling, she scoffs as if mocking your desperation.
“he won’t come,” and your eyes tear up at the implications behind those words. “in fact, no one is coming to save you,” before you could protest, she pushes the needle into your arm— and you collapse on the floor again.
“did you find her?” jay’s voice cuts through the phone and sunghoon runs his fingers through his hair frantically.
“no, she’s not here,” he had been looking around on the ground floor ever since they arrived. he went up to the vip wards to heeseung when the later said he saw you only, only for it to be a patient’s relative.
sunghoon pauses when he hears someone else on the other side of the phone— something about you not being on the terrace and in the canteen either— it takes him a few moments to guess that the voice belongs to riki.
“what about jungwon?” the name feels a little foreign on sunghoon’s tongue— almost bitter. he knows that there is a huge chance jungwon is not behind this, but he still cannot bring himself to look at him in a different light.
on the other side of the line, jay frowns in doubt. “has anyone even contacted him? he isn’t picking up my calls,”
“mine either,” sunghoon sighs, and somewhere near jay, riki also mentions the same observation. one time could be a mistake and maybe, jungwon didn’t want to answer sunghoon’s call for personal reasons.
but thrice marks and alert and while jay says he will get in touch with everyone to ask if anyone has heard from jungwon, sunghoon runs to take the elevator to the third floor.
( riki jokes about having to find yet another person and calls jungwon a bum, but sunghoon chooses to ignore that. )
the seconds drag, each one stretching thinner than the last, his reflection staring back at him from the metal doors—jaw clenched, eyes sharper than they should be.
when the doors slide open with a chime, an unsettling silence greets him. something is so wrong and it’s on the third floor, he can feel it i his bones.
there’s an empty nurse station— maybe the person on shift went to use the restroom. his steps are fast and echoing down the corridor as he scans everything— doors, corners, shadows. the lab—
he pushes the door open without wasting any more time, voice sharper than intended. “jungwon?”
when he gets no answer, his chest tightens and he turns immediately, heading back out and mind racing with every possibility, each worse than the previous one.
at some point, sunghoon decides to look through all the floors himself, wanting to believe nothing but what his eyes see.
when the elevator takes too long, he runs to take the nearest emergency stairs to the floor above. taking the stairs two at a time, his movements are faster now, urgency bleeding into every step.
upon reaching the fourth floor, he repeats the same— checking past every door and corner. this floor is a little more livelier than the one below, and something about that tells sunghoon that you aren’t here.
he takes the stairs to the floor above, feeling himself going crazy with every second that goes without seeing you.
when sunghoon pushes the door open to the fifth floor, he is met him darker and quieter hallways with overhead signs— USG to the right, MRI and X-ray up ahead, and then a muffled screech of metal against the tiles reaches his ears.
his eyes sweep quickly to the direction of the sound and there it is— CT scan room, door ajar, faint streaks of light streaming through the gap kn between.
sunghoon feels it before he even reaches the door— the kind of silence that presses in, wrong in a way he can’t ignore. his steps slow just slightly as he approaches, eyes flicking over to the door handle before be pushes the door open.
minju turns instantly.
the sound of the door hitting the wall is sharp, abrupt, and for the first time since any of this began— she looks surprised.
she straightens quickly from where she’d been crouched, her hand still hovering near the tray beside her, eyes narrowing as they land on him while his scan around for you—
and there you are— half limp on the floor struggling to keep your eyes open. sunghoon couldn’t even think before his feet lead him to tour side.
minju stands up to block him, her face slowly morphing into what looks like panic and annoyance. “this floor is restricted—”
but sunghoon doesn’t wait for her to finish. his hand comes up to grab her arm and shoves her aside with enough force that makes her stumble back. “move!”
he’s past her in an instant and then he sees you, half conscious and barely moving and suddenly, everything else disappears.
he’s at your side immediately, dropping to his knees beside you, one hand sliding under your shoulder and the other coming up to your face, turning it gently toward him. “look at me, please,”
your eyes flutter open through a familiar feeling— the same one you had every time she gave you those shots, just ten times worse this time.
“it’s okay,” his voice is softer than ever, holding you securely as your body sags against him when he tries to lift you. “i’ve got you,”
behind him, minju recovers fast.
her surprise is gone just as soon as it came, now replaced with something sharper as her gaze shifts between you and him. “you shouldn’t be here,”
sunghoon ignores her completely, his focus entirely on you as he holds you in his arms. “can you speak?”
minju’s eyes narrow.
“you need to leave,” her words are firmer now as she grabs something from the tray before stepping closer.
still no response— his entire focus is on your well-being— and that’s when she decides. her hand moves quickly— quick and precise— the metal flashes under the dim light.
she lunges fast but sunghoon has always been faster— humans are slow, after all. he moves instinctively, pulling you closer to his chest— he turns, the scalpel slicing through the empty space where he had been just seconds ago.
a bare miss.
she almost freezes at his reaction time. that was...out of ordinary. her grip tightens around the scalpel, determined to not miss this time. “you’re making a mistake,”
her tone is sharp, patience running thin with every second that he spends in this room being a hindrance. sunghoon turns away from you almost hesitantly before facing him. “that makes the two of us,”
and that’s it, that was the line.
she moves again, this time more aggressively with the blade coming down directed straight at his eye but sunghoon dodges cleanly, shifting his weight with unnatural precision, turning his body just enough to avoid the strike.
the blade grazes his cheek, not deep but just enough to cause a little cut. he wipes the blood with the back of his hand as she speaks, stunned. “what are you?”
minju doesn’t really wait for a response, already striking again with more force. his free hand catches her wrist mid-attack, stopping her completely. the force of it halts her movement instantly and her grip falters for the first time.
the scalpel slips from her hand— his grip was definitely going to cause a bruise on the wrist, but she hits his pelvis with her knees and the force knocks the air out of him, making him stumble back with a groan.
sunghoon doesn’t get time to recover before minju picks up the scalpel and forces you to stand up with an arm around your neck from behind, the other pointing the instrument directly at your neck. “i told you you’re making a mistake,”
your head rolls weakly against her shoulder, breath faint, barely there. the scalpel glints in the corner of your eyes and your stomach churns in fear.
sunghoon takes a step ahead. “don’t—”
“stop,” her voice cuts through sharply and the scalpel presses against your throat, cold and sharp.
your breath stutters weakly at the sensation, a faint, broken sound leaving your lips. “...hoon…” you whisper, barely conscious.
he tries to step again, but minju presses the blade against your neck, your eyes prickling with tears. you are in danger while sunghoon feels like he is closer to death than he has ever been.
“step back,” minju says, her tone calm—but edged now, “slowly,” the blade presses just slightly deeper— not enough to break skin, but enough to make the threat clear.
and for the first time, he hesitates, feelings helpless and disarmed all of a sudden while you are looking at him through blurry eyes, begging for help.
minju watches him carefully as if she is calculating his every movement and breath. once he’s far back enough from the door, she starts moving, dragging you with her, step by step, closer to the door.
“you’re making this worse—” he attempts to speak, or divert her, but the blade presses again and his mouth falls shut again. her hand shifts, reaching for the handle while still holding you in place, using your body as a shield between her and him.
she’s almost out, a wicked grin on her lips as if showcasing her victory. but the door opens and she straight into them— riki and jay— too sudden for her to move away.
sunghoon takes a breath of relief when he sees the two of them already standing there, looking like they just ran a mile.
the second minju crosses the threshold, jay’s hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist— the one holding the scalpel— and twists it hard. a sharp clatter echoes as the blade slips from her fingers, skidding across the floor.
she jerks against jay’s hold, trying to wrench her arm free, but his grip only tightens, locking her in place. “let go!”
jay doesn’t flinch, keeping her away from you “yeah, that’s not happening,” he mutters, forcing her arm further back, keeping her off-balance.
while minju tries to pry him off, pushing and pulling, riki’s hands come in steady and precise, slipping between you and her grip, prying you free before she can react properly. “i’ve got her!”
behind them, sunghoon is there is seconds the moment you’re out of her hold, his hands immediately replacing riki’s— careful but urgent as he takes you from him.
your head falls weakly against his shoulders and his hand comes up to hold your face, ever so gentle and cautious. “stay with me,”
minju finally manages to twist slightly, trying to break free again. “do you even know what you’re doing?” she snaps, her voice sharper amd edged with something frantic. “you’re ruining everything—”
but jay shoves her forward slightly, forcing her to lose balance again. “no,” he shoots back, “you did that all on your own,”
riki kicks the scalpel farther down the hallway, out of reach before looking at sunghoon. “sunoo said he’s calling security,”
sunghoon just nods mindlessly, her entire focus on you. in a swift movement, he picks up in his arms with ease, carrying you down the hallway with steps fast but careful, like he is carrying something fragile.
all he cares about right now is getting you treated.
behind him, minju tries to struggle to get out of jay’s hold once again before she gives up, knowing you are gone now...for better.
within minutes, security filters through along with a few hospital staff, some horrified and others in disbelief. gasps and curses fill the hallway as one of the female security officer cuffs minju’s hand.
“i guess we’re done here,” jay exhales, already planning to leave. he does not want to spend another second here and become a subject of interrogation from anyone.
“no,” however, riki sighs, running his fingers through his hair as if gearing up for another around. “we have to find jungwon,”
from, malenaㅤFINALLY! i hope this is not a whole lot of nothing burger because i wrote this days apart .. big credits to my irl friend for helping me with some scenes i know she will never see this but my babie i love you :3
honey we're having fried shower and tub for dinner🥰
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