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zorange13 · 2 days ago

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— love island, enhypen edition

enha as the islanders x afab reader (hyung line).

will post maknae line soon (let me know if y'all want it!!)

warnings/content. suggestive content, got WAYYY carried away with jake’s part, slowburn, reality tv au, YEARNINGGG, romantic competition, half-cheating, angst, light e2l, swearing, jealousy, insecurity, drama-heavy (duh)

lightly proofread, i did NOT sleep to write this lmao.

word count: 7.2k

inspired by the aot edition from @rynfiles, pls check them out!!

Heeseung 이희승

def a smooth ass talker, so charismatic

such a heartthrob

would be a fan favorite at first

an OG and would partner up with whoever he wants

also prob have a kiss by the end of the first episode

knows he’s hot and would honestly use that to his advantage to get to know everyone, esp in early days

genuinely so funny and would be one of the guys that gets along well with both the boys and girls

however, he would be a lil bit of a fuckboy, but he would feel so bad about it after watching the show back at the end.

being a libra, hee is naturally (and sometimes unintentionally) very flirty to the point where a girl might think she is being led on. even if he’s just trying to be nice.

cue one of the girls saying, “idk like heeseung and i just seem to have a good connection.”

10 minutes later he’s tonguing down another girl.

so him and his first pairing would just end in a pretty messy situation

fans start to not fw him

he would be in couples and stay throughout the whole show just because he’s good tv.

he’d be on the chopping block a few times but would somehow the producers would find something to save him (rob cough cough)

fans love to hate him

but wouldn’t truly fall head over heels until about week 3 and really hit it off with a girl. no one else matters to him at that point

you’d be a bombshell (duh)

but by the time casa amor comes around and he wants to close things off, the girls would be gone by that point

he’d be fuming

but then when the casa girls come, he’d be like ‘nah, i miss my girl’

but his head would be slightly turned by one of them

maybe a kiss or two, heavy petting unfortunately

but then when the girls are sent the video of what the boys have been doing…

best believe heeseung would get his ass handed to him at the recoupling

wouldn’t be able to look at you, once he sees the look in your eyes was when it hit him.

he wouldn’t bring anyone back though!!

you would put a pillow between them

fans kinda hate him at this point, like bro is public enemy #1

but he would do anything to win you back

i’m talking on HIS KNEES, yearning !!

a clip on tiktok would go viral of him for that

“if i have to show you why you’re the one for me, i’ll do it again. over and over again until you want me. i don’t care what it takes. i can’t let you go.”

fans would swoon, then hate themselves for liking him again (real asf)

kordell and serena coded as far as the casa situation

days of nice gestures until you felt you wanted him to stop

he would (try to) make you breakfast and bring it up to the beauty room; giving you a kiss on the side of your head as he left. saying “i know you like your eggs scrambled and your coffee light and sweet”

it would prob taste terrible it’s the thought that counts

the girls would giggle after he got far enough from the door, but you didn’t pay much mind

making you cheese toasties in the middle of the day when he “just so happens” to hear that you’re hungry.

after days of groveling, you cave when he enlists jay and jake to help him make your favorite food for candlelit dinner by the beach.

“i know i fucked up, i know that i hurt you badly. but please, if you give me this chance to prove that i’m not just some asshole, i will be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“boyfriend?”

“boyfriend.”

would have the hideaway for the night

would def make use of the toys in there

can see y’all being in the final 4

final date is horseback riding and dinner at one of the luxury resorts in fiji

his finale speech would send twitter in a spiral

“i came in here not expecting anything from this, just a fun time. just a free vacation and beautiful women. i seriously thought that i was on my way out because i had burnt all of my bridges. but when you showed up, i just—” sighs, trying not to let himself get choked up. “I knew you were so out of my league. even now you are, i felt like a guy like me didn’t deserve a woman like you. you’re not scared to call me out on my bullshit, you make me laugh, you made me earn you. despite all of the bullshit i put you through, you extended grace and there’s nothing more i could ask for from you and that will be the last time i ever ask you to extend me that much. but that look in your eye told me everything that i needed to know. watching that clip of you cry in the girl’s arms during movie night was all that i needed to know that i will never in my life, do anything to make someone i love feel like that ever again. you’re it for me, and no matter what happens tonight, win or lose; i’m a winner because I get to walk out with you.”

“love?”

“love.”

would have the whole villa in TEARS

reformed fuckboy™ + the queen who tamed him = they don’t even need to win

runners-up!!

Jay 박종성

the most chill one there tbh

og and would pair with who he liked

but they would burn out not from drama, but they realized there was a lack of chemistry

wouldn’t stir much drama but WOULD PULL for sure

he knew what he signed up for of course but is more of slow burner

he doesn’t like to entertain someone he isn’t interested in if he knew there was someone else he might like more

if his heart isn’t in it, he’s not gonna waste your time or his own

so he’d just be honest and the girls would love him for that

grows close with a lot of them and even offers advice when needed

blunt, but transparent and the fans like him

such a breath of fresh air from all of the weird, sneaky boys

the type that you would def know if he liked you

would somehow end up making out with one of the bombshells in soul ties, they couple up

the chef™

is always the one helping out with dinner

the girls always ask him to make them something because they know he’d never say no

isn’t the life of the party but is never a buzz kill

knows how to have fun and will always be there to have a good laugh.

would fizzle out with that bombshell

“you’re cool and so gorgeous. i just don’t feel anything deeper and i’m sorry.”

bombshell would be understanding not take it personally, she’s more into heeseung anyway lmao

kinda goes on aimlessly

would end up kissing one of the og girls (you) during a challenge in week 2 and holy shit

he liked it a lot more than he’d expect

wouldn’t know how to handle it and would feel like shit

i mean it’s only week 2 but weeks here feel like months

so technically, everyone’s been dating for 2 months !!

would talk to jake and would eventually just approach you about it. better to live with no regrets

“hey, can i pull you for a chat?” he says to you as you’re lounging on one of the day beds.

“of course,” you stood up and he ruffled your hair with a smile as y’all walked to one of the swinging benches.

“so remember when we kissed earlier? in the challenge?”

“yeah? i’m sure i’d remember who i kissed.”

oh…he liked this girl for real now

your own couple wouldn’t be too solid either seeing as it was so early but not

still wanted to be respectful though !!

nonetheless you end up recoupling and that guy gets sent home

sad to see a friend of his go home but very happy that he could love on his girl openly now

so head over heels, still makes the girls food because he’s a gentleman

but he brings you full on meals!! steaks, ribs, chicken (fried, baked, grilled, doesn’t matter !!! your wish is his command) the most they were getting out of him was a cheese toastie, they’ll be lucky if they get a piece of meat on it

you would def have a ‘my man, my man’ attitude after that which he lowkey loved

the girls made jokes about how they lost their personal chef and would start hassling their men to cook for them

you left a note on your mirror for him before you dipped for casa.

“i’m not the best at goodbyes, but i didn’t want to leave without saying something. thank you for being so good to me, for being real with me, and for making me feel like i matter here. i know things aren’t always easy to say, but i’m happy with you. i hope you’re doing okay while i’m gone, and i’ll be thinking about you. can’t wait to come back to you.

p.s. the food’s not the same without you here.”

then left a kiss in his favorite lipstick of yours on the mirror next to the note

he was irritated at no goodbye but tried to maintain some sort of sanity

after all the guys all filed out of the beauty room, he kissed the mark you left on the mirror and considered that his parting kiss

grab the note to put it in his pocket and keep by his bed to look at

he also saw you left the lipstick right on the vanity so he took that too

TWITTER WOULD SPIRAL !!!

the casa girls came and they came with the heat let me tell you

but he didn’t give in no no no

though he WAS tempted

he was chatting by the firepit with one of the casa girls and she leaned in to kiss him

he ALMOST fumbled

but he was solid, the plastic component of your lipstick in his back pocket a reminder of who was gonna be waiting for him on the other side

gently shoots the girl down for giving her the wrong impression, “i’m sorry if it seemed like anything else but i miss my girl and i just don’t think kisses outside of challenges are appropriate.”

very respectful

but the girl does not take too kindly to it

he doesn’t care because he likes you

he’s not trippin because like…can she fight? lmao

makes it back to the villa in one piece !!

is running back to you

fidgeting at the firepit because didn’t want to stand there to wait for y’all to officially full on be a couple again

kissing you down when he gets to you

making everyone hold their hearts at the cuteness

closes off with you that night and are the first ones to get in the hideaway !!

everyone voted you guys to go

you wore this amazing baby blue lingerie and he almost lost it

he put you in them fuzzy pink handcuffs that night

everything is smooth sailing

in the final 4

final date is dinner on a yacht then jet skiing on the sunset

then at the finale he would also give a speech that is so cute but so him!!

“i’m not good at words but that’s not an excuse to give a subpar speech because you deserve more than that. you have been so solid and wonderful through this whole experience. i never expected after 2 weeks it’d be me and you but i’m glad we got to harvest a friendship first.” He blushed, looking away from you as you laughed and gave him his time to simmer down. “i’d fall in love with you in any universe. the same way how i’d cook you anything you’d ask me to because you simply deserve it. you deserve to be treated like royalty and you know with me, i’m gonna deliver. you don’t have to lift a finger. you don’t have to worry about anything. not money, not my loyalty, my honesty. you came here to get the man you deserve and i’m here to give you that, baby.” would lift your hand to kiss it as he asked, “will you let me be your boyfriend?”

twitter meltdown—simple as that.

the producers picked good men this season…

y’all won and split—well actually, he gave you all of the prize money !!

every. last. dime.

there’s nothing other to describe him as perfect—he was patient, didn’t hoe around, had intentions and pursued you when it mattered the most.

ofc he’s the fan favorite and y’all are talked about online for forever as one of the best couples to come out of love island

Jake 심재윤

one of the sweetest guys there like seriously

cinnamon roll™

another og

it’s physically impossible to hate him

fans are swooning because they’ve never seen this many hot guys on love island at once

especially when all of them are heartthrobs and have so much potential

jakey is so beloved by the guys because he’s just…a bro

BUT HE GIVES GREAT ADVICE and is pretty chill

also knows how to have fun and is usually the one (besides heeseung) to like initiate a game or something fun to do

the villa can get boring when y’all are just sitting around all day

as for the girls, he gets along very well

he knows he’s good-looking but he doesn’t do too much

that accent gets them

very humble

all of the girls have wanted a piece of him at one point and quite frankly none of them were his type ???

“hey…bro…” he’d say to them, as he sat down with them during chats

so the girls just stayed his friend and didn’t want to embarrass themselves further

went through a depressive period for a few weeks

coupling with girls just to stay alive

until a bombshell, you,—came in.

he legit had all of the guys come to the firepit so he could tell them you were off limits

they listened, except for one

that bastard

some drama arose as there was gonna be a recoupling that sent one of the guys home

this only further incentivized jake to pursue you harder

“hey, can i steal you for chat?” he approaches you as you sat in the kitchen talking to the other guy

he didn’t feel bad, as you said “of course,” he made sure to give the guy a sly look as he placed his arm around your waist as you followed him up to soul ties.

fans loved him even more now: “ok jakey going after what he wants!!!!” “nah ngl if a cinnamon roll looked at me like that i’d self eliminate fr lmao” “well he said she was off limits *shrug emoji*” “he can’t even be mad at jake like he hasn’t had not one connection the whole time. let him get the girl he wants !!”

he knew he couldn’t sit on his ass and wait for you to come naturally

as he got to know you, he realized you were like him

a hot geek!!

you loved math and science just like him

you were always correcting people

and somehow you loved the same shows and movies

it’s like you’re him, just the girl version!!

needless to say, he falls fast and hard

he knew how to cook pretty well, so he would make you breakfast every morning

hot chocolate, with big marshmallows and a waffle

all made from scratch of course!! he took some pointers from jay ;)

the other guy continued to pursue you, to which he encouraged you

he knew what he was there for but who was he to limit you to one connection?

“i’m here for you and i know what i want. but i’m also never gonna tell you to put me above you; if you feel you want to explore then go handle that.” he told you as you settled in between his legs, back against his chest on one of the daybeds. you had your eyes shut as you leaned your head on his shoulder as gently caressed your leg with one hand and your arm with another. relishing in the serenity of the feeling and the waves crashing against each other.

this is right when you knew you weren’t going anywhere

fans also ate this up: “i just need someone to hold me like jake holds her and i’ll be ok, i promise” “i would let him do the most unspeakable things to me, Lord forgive me” “just give me 3 minutes.”

was some part of him anxious as hell? absolutely, but he meant what he said

it was up to you, either way someone was going home

so when you got a text later that afternoon, you read it aloud to everyone (basically screaming it but it’s ok)

“it’s almost decision time! you must decide where your heart lies. tonight, you will choose who you want to couple up with, and one guy will be sent home. solve for x and see where you end up! #toobadsosad #makingupforlosttime #gotmyanglesonyou”

you flustered at the reminders of the conversations you and jake were having

but it was funny nonetheless

that night at the firepit, you had never see jake so distraught

he spaced out which he like never does but now it was time for you to make your choice

you stood up in your heels, almost shaking but maintaining composure

“i would like to couple up with this boy because he has been so amazing and consistent since my time here.” jake listened to you intently as you spoke, hopefully trying to pick up on something that could indicate that you’d pick him.

“we also get along really well and i feel that in the short time that i’ve been here, we’ve been able to get on pretty well. i know that if we have a chance to further this connection, then something great will be able to come from it.”

ok, he was getting hopeful

“we bond over so many things, and i feel like we mirror each other. people say that it’s hard to be with someone that’s just like you. however, studies show that 89% of couples share the same values and similarities, making them successful and at a lower rate of divorce.”

your fellow islanders laughed at your random, yet endearing factoid

jake just tilted his head as he stared at you lovingly, “that’s my girl,” he whispered to himself

“so the boy i’d like to couple up with is…”

fingers crossed

surprise. “jake.” you said with a bright smile on your face.

jake wanted to run to you and kiss you until his last dying breath

BUT he had some sort of couth

he dapped up the guy that he was standing by, he didn’t want to because he felt he was an asshole but still. respect.

then he walked over to you with the brightest smile in the world and hugged you so tight you almost complained but you let him have his moment. “you’re so amazing, baby. you’re mine now,” his whispered into your ear. the mic just barely picked it up.

he pulled back and gave you the gentlest kiss you’ve felt in your life, that you barely even felt

viral moment

it was hard to watch the guy pack his stuff

yes, he knows that he got you now but after coming to his senses in a way, the guy just wanted to find love the same way they all did

they ended up having a conversation before he left and they squashed the beef

later that night, you and jake showered together

made sure to lock the door, there was like 8 other bathrooms in this big ass house

the others could use another one

BUT it was nothing freaky deaky

just gentle, intimate

you detangled and washed his hair for him

granted it was very hard to keep his hands off of you

just this perfect body in front of him in this big ass shower where he had ample room to do what he wanted

but he kept it cute, only letting his hands slide south when you let him

but a little kiss didn’t hurt

his hand wrapped around your neck as pulled you to cover his lips with yours. the familiar taste of your lips sending jolts through his body. he groaned at the sensation as you followed. “should’ve done this at the firepit, right in front of that bastard. that way he would’ve known you were really mine all along.”

he left a lil hickey

nothing too crazy

y’all def did it in the bed with everybody there that night though

casa amor rolls around

y’all are doing good even before then

challenges were fun, vibes were on point!!

but just like the others, you bounce without a word. but you also left a note just like heeseung’s girl

“hi jakey !! i’m gonna be gone for a while but not to worry. distance makes the heart grow fonder. i trust you, and i hope you honor me while i’m away because i will do the same for you <3 p.s. i sprayed my perfume on our bed so if a bitch even tries to lie there she’ll be getting a piece of me. hugs and kisses xoxo !!”

he audibly laughed at your note, some tears threatening to escape him but quickly sucked it up

he missed you already, his baby

his little einstein

he tucked the note in his pocket for safe keeping

remember what i said before, the casa girls are coming in hot!!

and jake being the fun—and nice—guy he is, makes the girls feel welcome

until one of them pulls him for chat and he accepts

she came onto and him for some reason something came over him

to this day he can’t put his finger on if it was the excitement of a new face after seeing the same ones every single day for, what felt like, forever

or just lack of self control

maybe both

but he fucks her

when the guys found out they were jarred

even heeseung, the resident fuckboy™ wasn’t that wild

needless to say, jake has never felt more disgusted with himself

the support he amassed over the last few goes down the drain as this was one of the biggest twists of the season

i said hee became public enemy #1 before but no, jake was hated BAD!!!

fans were hurt themselves: “bro i feel so bad for y/n, she was everything and more and he just shit on her, fuck jake” “i really don’t believe in love anymore, this is wild” “imagine going thru ALL THAT with a girl that was made for you just to hook up with a random casa girl bc of a ‘minor slip up’ what a loser”

going back to the villa was…a journey to say the least

but when he got back you were smiling

hard

like…you couldn’t wait to see him

him, along with the boys were confused as they all thought that you’d seen what happened due to heeseung just getting heat

but no

you seemed to know nothing

and jake just played along, he didn’t bring anyone back and neither did you

“hello, my einstein,” he hugged you as he spun you around before gently placing you back on the wooden deck of the firepit.

the silence amongst the boys was deafening, there were already tensions due to heeseung’s situation, but the girls still tried to be happy for you and cheer you on. them clearly being oblivious to what really went down.

a few days passed and jake carried along as normal as he could, still consulting jay about this hole in chest called guilt that he couldn’t shake. he had to tell you.

until sunghoon’s girl got a text, she beckoned all of them to front

“islanders, it’s time for movie night! watch some exclusive clips from your time in the villa and casa amor! grab your seats and watch some dirty truths be unveiled. #nosecretshere #lightscameradrama”

everyone looked at each other with unsure looks, the boys getting glared and cold stares left and right.

you felt terrible, “i feel so bad, i know [heeseung’s girl] went through so much the last few days. i’d hate for her to have to almost relive it, you know?” you said to jake, to which he hugged you with a small ‘yeah’

everyone gathered around and it was time to pick which “movie” y’all wanted to watch

they chose ‘experiment gone wrong’

and that was when you saw it

jake tonguing down this girl, which stung, but ok this was during a challenge so nothing crazy

the next clip cut to them talking at the firepit and he was just giggling it up

then they kissed

which was more than enough to make your heart feel like it smashed into a million pieces

then the next clip was of them making out on yours and his shared bed

then he covered both of them with the comforter as the camera moved to a new angle where they threw their clothes onto the floor from beneath the sheets

then on the outside on the firepit right where they were, laid the note you left for him before you left

then it faded to black

the silence was deafening

the girl’s right by you sat in shock as you were all equally.

the first to break the silence was jungwon’s girl “so y’all knew?”

the boys were all looking down in shame

silence. crickets.

you wanted so badly to say something but your voice simply wouldn’t allow you

you just remember breaking down into jungwon’s girl’s arms as she rested her hand on your head, stroking your head to give you some consolation as the rest of the girl’s cursed them out.

jake just sat there, tears in his eyes as croaked out, “i didn’t mean to—”

“what didn’t mean to do what? she trusted you, we all did! y’all are some grimy ass people for not even letting one of us know. like you didn’t have to tell her. at least one of us and we could’ve done something!”

“jake you are such a piece of shit”

“i know,” he whimpered, leaning back into the couch

“if you’re capable of keeping some shit like that from her then you’re capable of anything.”

he knew what the girls were saying was true to some–well, a huge extent. but he wasn’t looking at them.

he was looking at you break down over something that he did out of pure tactlessness

the producers didn’t let you get up until the clips were done being shown but as soon as they were done, you sped walked right inside

knowing jake was hot on your tail

before you can ever get past even the middle of the yard space he catches up you

“y/n please,” he says, pleading. “i can explain,”

you looked at him, with nothing but pure pain and desolation, “explain what? your dick just somehow slipped inside her on accident?”

he shook his head, “baby—”

that was when you snapped, yelling at for the first time ever. “no! you lost the privilege to call me that! i’m nothing to you, do you hear me? nothing! you are a sick and twisted individual. nevermind the hooking up thing because a part of me expected it. men will be men, but for you to have days to tell me and you let me find out along with everyone else?”

“please, can we just talk about this somewhere else?” his voice cracked as he began to sob, not caring if all of your peers were watching

“you’re such a con artist, you made me believe you. made me believe that everything was fine and dandy between us and that i was like the one for you—”

“but you are, you are—” he grabbed his hair, pulling it from stress and frustration. “gosh, you are! i just fucked up—”

“i gave you my body, jake. does that not mean anything to you?”

he sobbed loudly, not even caring how he looked anymore. “yes! it means everything just please understand me!” he grabbed your shoulders to hopefully make you listen. “i fucked up. i know i’m a shitty person for doing that and i know i’m even shittier than lying to you like this and keeping you in the dark. but please trust me when i say that it was a mistake and will never happen again.”

“you’ve shown me who you are, jake. i’m taking it for what it is. you’ve made your choice and it wasn’t me.” you said, cold and distant

choking back sobs as he tries to reach for you again. “y/n, please. i’m begging you. don’t do this. i’ll do anything. i’ll make it right, just give me a chance.”

“fuck you, jake.”

jungwon’s girl ends up sleeping with you outside that night

jake cries himself to sleep, even though he could barely do that

the next day you were more angry than hurt

when he brought you breakfast, you threw it out the window right in front of face

you’re like 60% sure bits of the eggs ended up in the pool

everytime he tried to talk to you, you ignored him

if he asked to pull you for a chat while you speaking to someone, you continued talking as if he wasn’t standing there, literally begging you for a conversation

he was vapor to you and it wasn’t fun being like this but he needed to be punished

until one recoupling, he decides to self-eliminate

this rippled shock throughout the villa, even you

during his final speech, “i felt like i came here to find a connection. i did, and regardless of how it turned out, i’m so grateful for the time that i did get with that person. i know i did the most…distasteful things but i also know that forgiveness comes with time and it shouldn’t be on your terms.” he looked at you with longing eyes, “y/n, i love you,”

the L word in love island is like…unheard of almost like oh my god ??/?/?/ so your stomach was in knots

“and i will do anything to see you happy, baby, always. if that means being free from me than i’ll do it and i will let you have the experience you so rightfully deserve, so…that’s why i’d like to go home. i got what i came here for.”

there were definitely tears from everyone in the villa

jake had been everyone’s best friend so to see him go was hard

you and him exchanged longing glances and a gentle nod before he walked out and the ‘loves me not’ sign flashes

you ended up leaving the following week

you just wandered about aimlessly

bombshells came but none of them compared to jake

you were eliminated and was actually glad to go home and see your family after all these months

definitely sad because at this point, you spent so much time and gotten along well with everyone that they considered you an og at this point

but you left with your chest held high

but as soon as you got your phone back you saw you sat at a good 2M followers on instagram, which was like 1,999,900 million more than you came in here with.

you took a look at your dm’s and saw a familiar face text you:

“hey gorgeous,

i know you probably won’t see this for a while, but i couldn’t just leave things unsaid. i’ve spent so much time thinking about everything, and i know there’s no excuse for what i did. i messed up, badly. i hurt you, and i’ll never be able to fully fix that, no matter how much i wish i could. but i need you to know that i’m truly sorry. not just for what i did, but for letting you down in ways that went beyond just that moment.

i was selfish. i let my insecurities and confusion get the better of me, and in doing so, i betrayed your trust. i lied to you, and i let you believe things were okay when they weren’t. the worst part is, i knew better. i knew what i was doing was wrong, but i still did it. i don’t expect forgiveness from you, not after what i did, but i hope you can eventually find it in yourself to heal from this.

you deserve someone who values you and respects you, someone who sees you for who you truly are, not just in the moments when things are easy. i failed you in that regard. i let you down in front of everyone, and i’m sorry for that. but i want you to know that i will always think of you, and no matter what happens, you’ll always be important to me.

i don’t know if you’ll ever want to talk to me again, and honestly, i wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. i’m not asking for forgiveness, and i’m not asking for anything except that you take care of yourself, y/n. you deserve the world. and i’ll keep working on becoming someone better, even if it’s too late for us.

i hope that wherever you are, you’re finding peace and happiness. i’ll be here if you ever want to reach out, but i understand if you need time or if you don’t ever want to. just know i’m thinking of you, and i’ll always be rooting for you. i wouldn’t change a thing if it meant i got to experience the beauty that is you.

take care of yourself. you were more than everything to me. i love you einstein.

your jakey <3

ok that felt like a gut punch

you sat there, on your bed wondering your next move

then you got to typing

Sunghoon 박성훈

he’s for sure a bombshell

one of the bombshells that comes in the blind kissing challenges to confuse all of the girls

he’s had his eye on you for a while

so when he gets to kiss you, he’s more than prepared to rock your world

he takes his time with you as he runs a gentle finger down your lips to the valley of your breasts as he pulls you closer by your hips

then he pulled you in so your lips could meet his and it was up from there

everyone was so confused

“jake?” “nah that's not him”

“heeseung?” “nah he’s not as aggressive”

the boys were in complete shock, some of there were dying laughing

others bitter because he was kissing their girls lmaooo

when the girls took their blindfolds off, they were screaming in shock

you laughed something serious!!

but when you got a look at sunghoon, you were also very shook

he was…scarily beautiful, like he almost made you feel insecure lmao

but he couldn’t stop looking at you

you and the girls congregated after that to discuss details

“yo, he’s hot as fuck” “he’s gorgeous” “y’all don’t even know what to do with all that”

the fans were thrown. they were gagged.

TWITTER WAS SCREAMINGGG “#needthat”

the guys all whispered about him, impressed that he came in with such a bang

others, whose couples weren’t so steady in their couples were worried

but they saw how he kissed you

he wanted you

during the challenge where america weighs in on what they feel about them

he gets voted to be like the biggest fuckboy

which again, makes heeseung laugh because he was that was his thing™

everyone even voted him too, so to hear america’s thoughts made the girls think the world knew something they didn’t

but back to sunghoon

his feelings were a little hurt

he wasn’t sure if it was the way he looked that gave people that impression

but he never kissed any girls outside of challenges so it didn’t make much sense

sure he had his fun outside of the villa

but he knew that he was going to be on national television, so he did try to dial it back

you were very turned off by this

you admitted in the confessionals, “i’ve had my fair share of fuckboys. i even knew by coming here that i wasn’t exempt from them! so to be real, i’m not shocked. i mean look at him. i’d be hurt if he wasn’t sharing the fun with other people.”

he’s annoyed by it but doesn’t let it phase him

now onto you guys

at this point, you’re pretty solid in your original connection

sunghoon didn’t really gaf lmao

he was a bombshell, he wasn’t supposed to be peaceful

he had a talk with your connection in front of the guys

“i’m sorry but i’m here to step on toes and i really don’t care if you don’t like that. i’m not here to make friends.”

your connection nodded with a ‘challenge accepted’ type of smile

so let the games begin

he pursued you down

a solid week and a half of him and your partner fighting for you

until heeseung is bored one night and wants to play a game: truth or dare

“y/n, truth or dare”

now you knew better than to accept a dare from any of these hooligans, “truth.”

“do you think your connection is solid enough to survive me being here?” he leans forward, resting his head on his hands with a smile

wow

so you didn’t have anything to say

you literally plead the fifth

and that caused some drama and needless to say, you and your partner argued that night

“so, one guy just comes around and all of a sudden i’m not enough for you?”

“i never said that, you’re just insecure and plus it’s not that serious. this is love island. i came here for me, who are you to hinder me from my experience?”

he slept outside that night

sunghoon slept with a smile on his that night

the next morning, he asked around what you liked for breakfast and brought it to you while you were doing your makeup

you thanked him politely, not liking him for basically prophesying your couple’s misfortune

he knew what happened and was capitalizing off of it

fans easily saw this and thought the same, not entirely liking sunghoon and calling him a little bit of weirdo

“he’s hot but something about bro seems sketchy” “is he a witch or sumn??? does bro have crystals and sage in his suitcase??? wtf is going on” “i agree with the discourse but why am i kinda eating this up tho”

you were chatting with jay’s girl and then he pulls you for a chat, to which you agreed reluctantly “sure”

y’all went to the chairs by the beach. he sat on one and you sat across from him

“so? rough night?”

“do you have a problem with me?”

“no. i just want you.”

“you’re so weird, i mean i appreciate that you’re trying to be nice to me in your own sick way. but i don’t play games.”

he smiled, “i’m not playing with you, though. i just held up a mirror.”

“you’re serious?”

“think about it, i didn’t do anything. i just asked you one question and he did the rest.”

you resigned

ok he was right, i mean

your partner was bugging out because he was threatened by another man

“obviously i’ll leave you alone if you want me to but it won’t exactly help your situation.”

“you some type of mind reader or something?”

“i don’t need to read minds. i just need to pay attention. and i’ve been watching for a while. what i’m seeing isn’t really about me, it’s about what you’re not saying.”

fuck it

you stood up and walked toward to him as you straddled his hips

he smiled gently as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. and yours around his neck as you kissed officially

some of your fellow islanders were eavesdropping and and watching from behind the deck and they silently cheered

as you pulled back, “did i say enough?”

biting his lip, he nodded as he rested his hand on the back of your head. “yeah,” the other head rubbed your thighs on either side of him.

you pulled away from the kiss and the tension lingered but he kept his grip on your thigh. as if he was scared you’d pull away.

“what are you thinking, pretty girl?” his voice took on a new tone. that sarcastic, patronizing inflection long gone.

“i think you knew exactly what you were doing.” you laughed

he smiled, your laugh actually giving him butterflies “maybe,” the head that rested on your head moved to your cheek as he stroked it gently. “just want to make you feel wanted,”

your connection ended up getting eliminated at recoupling (womp womp)

since sunghoon came late, casa was only a week later

a part of him was excited to explore more options

you didn’t leave a note, which kinda stung

but there wasn’t anything to do about it so he just continued as normal

he kissed a few girls, brought one back :(

definitely pissed you off!!

lowkey he got your frustration but it’s only been a week!!

“it’s not like we’re married or anything, i’m just tryna explore my options.”

to which you understood, didn’t make the embarrassment any easier

you were so mad you didn’t bring a guy back either

fans felt validated that their suspicions were right “see??? i knew i wasn’t buggin. he’s a hoe.” “i get that it’s been a week but he could’ve been a little nicer about it like damn” “the audacity to chase her and put her other connection at risk when he could’ve just kept it cool?? he just wanted screen time fr” “this sounds crazy but not even heeseung is this bad” “he wants to be heeseung sooo baddd LMFAOO”

not hated, but not liked either

y’all fizzle out and he partners with the casa girl

you get eliminated at that recoupling

you guys hug before you leave and reconcile

no beef

no static

he’d def reach out after everything tho

#enhypen #niki x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader #kpop #heeseung #jungwon #jake sim #park jay #sunghoon #enhypen fics #enhypen au #sunoo #enha #kpop x black reader #kpop x reader #kpop fic #kpop fanfic

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celli-ohs · 2 days ago

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I Can't, I Have Rehearsal

pairing: socially awkward!park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff

synopsis: What happens when you get seated right next to the most handsome boy in your entire grade? Well you thought it'd be a great excuse to get to know him better, but the guy won't even talk to you! After a mishap in the science lab, you come to find out that Park Sunghoon, the cold-hearted prince of EN High, isn't in fact rude, he's just afraid of women.

before you read: character profiles

warnings: language, stalking mention, cooties, wild subplot(s), loser enhypen, rickrolling, bad april fools pranks

word count: 3.62k

taglist (open): @ancnymcnzjy , @frankenstein852

note: part 1 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.

Log 4: Monday - April 1st, 2024

“I’m gonna say it. Y/n has been getting on my nerves recently.”

Everyone snaps their necks to look at Riki like he’s just admitted to committing a crime.

“Excuse me?” Sunghoon is appalled. “That’s my friend!”

It’s been about a month since you and Sunghoon had begun his “girlducation” lessons (You named it, not him). And luckily he’s been faring well!

Everyone’s noticed how he’s more open and friendly, and just last week he was finally able to look his homeroom teacher in the eyes and have a full conversation (about how he’s failing Algebra 2).

Talking to his female classmates has gotten easier too. He can’t say much though, as he still gets nervous whenever the conversation gets too complex.

You’ve helped him make leaps and bounds regardless, and Sunghoon can proudly state you two are friends.

“Come on you guys, you know what I’m talking about,” Riki shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

“No. We don’t. What did she do to you?” Jongseong raises a brow. Riki groans, rubbing his face.

“Yeah, there’s no need to be angry at her.” Heesung adds.

“This is exactly why! You guys like her more than me, I’m being replaced!” Riki throws his hands up in the air.

“Uh, no duh we like her more,” Sunoo rolls his eyes. “She’s nicer, funnier, and she’s prettier.”

Riki gasps. “I can be pretty!” He crosses his arms. “I’m prettier than you!” This time Sunoo gasps. “You can’t say shit to me cause do you got some guy stalking you because he thinks your idol material? I think not bitch!”

“Stalker? Sunoo! I thought you got rid of that guy?!” Jaeyun pauses, now the attention is turned towards the younger boy.

“He’s been on my ass recently, he even knows my order at my favorite cafe.” He shrugs as if this isn’t a concerning matter.

“Oh that’s not…” Sunghoon makes a face, eyeing the others.

“That stupid Belift guy is so persistent. It’s like he doesn’t take no for an answer.” Sunoo sighs. They all look at each other, skeptical. "I’ll walk home with you today Sunoo,” Jungwon decides.

“Speaking of stalkers,” Jongseong clears his throat, turning to Riki. “You’re banned from my house.”

“What?” Heeseung squeaks out in shock.

“Oh, so you liked my April Fool’s prank?” Riki grins, dodging Jongseong’s fists. “You went and switched my alarm clock forward! I was on my way to Jungwon’s at 5am this morning,” Jongseong grumbles.

As the others laugh and praise Riki for his joke, Sunghoon laughs the hardest. “Maybe you should keep your clock that way, you won’t ever have to worry about your mom nagging you to leave on time anymore.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes. “Haha, very funny.”

“How did you even do that?” Jaeyun laughs. Riki waves him off, smiling proudly. “Just asked his mom if I could come over to change it really quick while he was at baseball yesterday.”

“My mom was in on it?!” Jongseong looks betrayed. The boys soon make their way inside their school building.

“I totally forgot today was April Fool’s! I should’ve planned something,” Heeseung laughs, opening his locker.

“Don’t worry, I’m just getting started, I’ve got something for all of you.” Riki sends them an ominous smile. “Heh, what do you mean?” Sunghoon tries to hide his fear with a smile.

“Nothing. Just think of today as karma for replacing me with Y/n,” Riki waves before he jogs down the hall, greeting his other friends.

“We never replaced you?!” Jungwon shouts at him, sounding worried. “Oh my god, I’m scared, what if I open my locker and there’s like a dead rat or something?” Sunoo whines.

“No, Riki’s not like that,” Heeseung shakes his head, before turning to the others. “Uh, right?”

“Last year he put ink on my glasses, so when I took them off I had lines all over my face and hands, no one said anything till lunch!” Sunghoon reminds the others.

“In middle school we shared a class, I fell asleep and he clipped a hair extension to the back of my head. No one told me I had a mullet until I got home and showered.” Jungwon recites, shuddering as his fingers ghost over the back of his neck.

“He gets bolder every year, and somehow he convinces people to help him. I think he’s bribing them somehow.” Jongseong concludes.

“What if I just skipped school today? Huh? Anyone wanna join me?” Jungwon tempts the others. “No! If I have to be here, so do you. Plus it’s unfair that only I got pranked so far.” Jongseong huffs.

“Don’t worry Heeseung,” Jaeyun comforts the oldest. “You’re new, Riki will probably go the easiest on you.”

Heeseung doesn’t look pleased by this. As his friends try to figure out a way they can prevent Riki’s chaos from unfolding, Sunghoon slinks off down the hall to a certain locker.

You stand with your back towards him, talking animatedly with your friend Taehyun. As Sunghoon approaches, he signals Taehyun to keep quiet with a finger to his mouth.

“Boo!” He grabs you by the shoulder, causing you to jump. “Ah! Sunghoon!” You huff, punching him lightly in the arm. “Don’t do that!” You smile nonetheless.

“April Fool’s,” Sunghoon grins. You wave him off, your fingers grazing his own. He feels his ears heat up.

“I’m gonna get you later. You better watch out.” You warn him, but Sunghoon only smiles, shaking his head.

Suddenly, Taehyun clears his throat, reminding the two of you that you weren’t alone. “I’m gonna find Hyuka, see you later.” He waves to the both of you before departing.

But before he turns around, Taehyun sends you a wink, causing you to stiffen up.

“What was that?” Sunghoon asks, eyes trained on the back of Taehyun’s head. “Huh? Nothing, let’s get to class.” You cough, pushing Sunghoon down the hall.

“You remembered to do your slides, right?” You ask Sunghoon as you two sit down in your seats. “Yeah, it wasn't that hard.” He nods.

Your history class has just finished a project, and today everyone will be presenting. It was a solo project, but you and Sunghoon helped each other out.

“You’ll be okay talking up there by yourself?” You worry. Sunghoon feels special to know that you of all people care about him. A few days ago you’d voiced your concern to him about his fear or public speaking (around women).

“I think so, I usually just look at Jaeyun.” Sunghoon admits, shrugging.

“Well if you need to, you could look at me.” You suddenly suggest. Sunghoon feels the heat from his ears spread to his cheeks. “O-Okay.” He nods, focusing on his desk.

Even after all his training, you somehow had a way with words that could cause Sunghoon to shut right up again.

Not just that, you still made him nervous, there were moments he found you too beautiful to even look in your direction.

Home room goes by like a breeze, and soon enough it’s time for history, and one by one students begin to present their topics in the front of class.

“Park Sunghoon.” Mr. Song calls out, and Sunghoon awkwardly stands up, grabbing his notes.

“Good luck!” You send him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Just that alone made him feel invincible.

With newfound confidence, Sunghoon strides to the front, pulling up his powerpoint on the history of soybeans. But when he turns to his fellow classmates, his ego disappears and he’s suddenly reminded of how many eyes were on him.

He begins to panic, his words stuck in his throat and his thoughts become sludge. Everyone was looking at him. Everyone was whispering.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Why is he taking so long?”

“Soybeans? That’s so boring.”

He can hear his teacher call out his name, asking him if he’s alright, but Sunghoon feels as if he’s been nailed to the ground, unable to move.

But as he focuses on his feet, he hears someone clear their throat loudly, his eyes shooting up.

You’re smiling. At him.

“You can do it!” You mouth, cheering him on. Suddenly it’s like he can breathe again. He can feel his body moving finally. All thanks to you of course.

“T-Today I’ll be talking about the history of soybeans in Korea.” Sunghoon announces suddenly, eyes trained on you.

You lean back into your seat, smile never disappearing as you listen intently.

“Where the hell is Riki?! I’m gonna kill him.” Jaeyun stomps over to the lunch table. Heeseung shrugs, mouth full of food.

“He’s not here, what happened?”

Jaeyun groans as he sits down, Sunghoon also taking his seat beside him. “He got Rickrolled.”

Jungwon snorts, choking on his food as he laughs. Jaeyun glares, picking at his lunch. “It’s not funny! He cost me my grade!”

“Pfft! Mr. Song docked you 10 points, you still have an A.” Sunghoon reminds him. The youngest of the bunch somehow got control of Jaeyun’s presentation, adding a bunch of memes into his slides.

“And ruined my 100 streak!” Jaeyun whines. “He won’t let me take any extra credit.” He sighs, letting his hunger take over as he shovels food into his face.

“Never gonna give you up! Never gonna let you down! Never gonna run around and desert you!” Riki sings and dances as he arrives at their table. He’s grinning from ear to ear, all the while Jaeyun glares mid-chew.

“Come on Jaeyun!” Riki nudges him. “Sing it with me! Never gonna make you cry-” He’s cut off when Jaeyun lunges at him, catching the boy in a headlock. “Nev-never gonna tell- a lie- ack!” Riki coughs as he continues to sing under Jaeyun’s grip.

“Shut up!” Jaeyun angrily sneers, just as Riki wriggles out of his arms. “Dude,” Riki is breathless. “Put on some deodorant or something! I almost died.” He gags.

“I’m seriously going to kill-”

Jongseong slams down his hand onto the table, making everyone jump.

“Uh, you good?” Jungwon eyes him. Jongseong zeroes in on him, his eyes ablaze. “No I am not good, Yang Jungwon.”

“Uh oh, cat fight,” Sunoo snickers to Sunghoon, earning a chuckle.

“Did I do something?” Jungwon eyes the others, before realizing Jongseong was only looking at him. “What do you think, Yang?!”

Jongseong suddenly digs into his pants pocket, and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, tossing it to the first year. Jungwon catches it with ease, unraveling it suspiciously.

“Oh my God.”

“What? What is it? Show me!” Sunoo snatches the paper, his eyes reading as fast as lightning before he lets out a yelp, covering his mouth as he gawks at Jungwon.

“You’re being dramatic,” Sunghoon finally grabs the paper, sharing it with Jaeyun as Heeseung leans over the table to peer.

The paper turns out to be a list, and it has various names on it, including Jongseong’s and Jungwon’s. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. That is until he reads the title.

“How could you go behind my back and run for Student Council?! You knew I was applying!” Jongseong shouts.

“I didn’t!” Jungwon holds his hands up in the air. “Dude I promise, I think there’s been a mistake, I never even applied to be nominated!”

Jongseong eyes him, but concedes, looking just as confused. “But that doesn’t make sense. You can’t not know you’re running- for Student Body President!”

“Yeah, and to think you’re only running for Treasurer,” Jaeyun jabs. He earns himself a kick to the shin from Jongseong.

Riki is the only one who laughs, though it lingers longer than it should have, prompting suspicion.

“What did you do?” Jungwon questions. The youngest is too busy hugging his sides as he cackles.

“Oh my God! I’m gonna piss myself, you should have seen your face!” Riki wheezes.

“Riki, what did you do?!” Jongseong demands. After a few minutes, the boy’s laughter subsides. “We nominated Jungwon cause he fell asleep in homeroom,” He giggles.

“What?! Riki be serious.”

“Okay,” Riki shrugs. “Technically, I nominated Jungwon, but then everyone else voted for him. I found out the announcements were the same day as April Fool’s and thought it’d be a sick prank.”

“Someone’s feeling sick alright, me, that’s who.” Jongseong sighs. Sunoo pats his arm out of sympathy.

“Jongseong, dude, no one’s gonna actually vote for Jungwon.” Riki scoffs. “What kind of idiot votes a first year as their president?”

“The same idiots who voted for him to be a nominee?” Heeseung reminds him. Riki pauses. “That’s beside the point! Don’t worry, this will all blow over when they see how incompetent he is.”

“Hey! I’m competent!” Jungwon huffs. “I just choose not to be!”

“Make that your slogan, and you might just lose!” Sunoo teases. Jungwon rolls his eyes, rubbing his face.

“Hey guys! I heard the great news, congratulations!” Your sweet voice brings sudden joy to Sunghoon as you greet them all.

“Y/n!” He suddenly shoves Jaeyun to the side to make space for you to sit, causing both him and Riki to topple over. He ignores their complaints as you squeeze yourself in right next to him.

You finally take a good look around the table once you’re settled in.

Sunoo mindlessly picks at his food, beside him Jungwon seems to be experiencing his first ever existential crisis. Jongseong has a vice grip on a very beaten up piece of paper and Heeseung is too busy eating to notice the tension as Jaeyun keeps muttering about his grades. And Riki is blatantly glaring daggers at you.

The only person who seems relatively happy is Sunghoon.

“You guys seem to be having a really, uh- interesting day so far.” You cough. “As if you know what it’s like to be interesting- Ow! Jaeyun elbowed me!” Riki tattles.

“And you deserve it.” Jongseong sneers.

“Tough crowd today,” You whisper to Sunghoon as the others begin to bicker. “Yeah, Riki’s been burning some bridges, lately” He nods.

“Oh? Should I be worried?” You eye the boy, who is in fact now glaring even harder. “No.” Sunghoon shakes his head, trying to remain calm as you lean closer to him. “Um, maybe actually? Yes. Yes you should.” He finally decides.

“Uh huh.” You nod warily. “Well anyways, I was just wondering how you guys plan to run your campaigns? I have some experience since I helped last year when Taehyun was Secretary, and now he’s running for Vice President.”

Jongseong sits up straight, putting on a presentable smile. “I plan on winning by showing my responsibility and care for the students here at EN-High.”

The table goes quiet.

“Was that AI? Sounded like something ChatGPT wrote,” Heeseung looks around. “What? No! I’m trying to sound professional.” Jongseong sighs.

“Well I plan to drop out, I didn’t even want to be nominated, but someone thinks it’s funny to prey on the innocent.” Jungwon stares right at Riki, who is busy scrolling through his phone uninterested.

“I saw an opportunity and I took it, can you blame me?” He shrugs. “Yes! Yes, I can!” Jungwon shouts.

“Okay, so it sounds like both of you are losing.” You mutter beneath your breath. “Look, word of advice: students really value honesty and the ability to be realistic. People like it when you tell the truth.” You explain.

“Didn’t Taehyun win last year because he did magic tricks instead of a speech?” Sunghoon frowns. “Oh! I remember him! He was so cool! How did he pull that chicken out of that hat?!” Heeseung asks excitedly.

“He did have a speech, he just did his magic tricks after.” You correct him. “Also it was a parrot, not a chicken.”

“What does magic have to do with being on the student council?” Sunoo asks, looking confused. “If I vote for Taehyun, can he magically fix my grade back to 100?” Jaeyun questions. “Do you think if I partner with Taehyun, I have a better chance of winning?” Jongseong turns to you.

You hold your hand up to silence them, before looking at each of them individually.

“Apparently more than you’d think.” You say to Sunoo, before shaking your head at Jaeyun. “No, just take the L.”

“And yes, but only if you’re okay with him doing the Sawing-In-Half trick on you during the debate.” You tell Jongseong, who looks pale now.

Before you can say any more, the warning bell rings, signaling lunch would be over in five minutes. “Alright, see you guys later,” You stand up, getting out of your seat. “Let me know if you need more advice.” You joke.

“I’ll see you in class?” Sunghoon asks, as if you two weren’t seatmates. You laugh, and teasingly pat his arm, causing his whole body to burn.

“Yeah, see you!” You wave, running off. He watches you as you return to your friends at your table across the cafeteria, his heart swelling.

“Oooh! Someone’s got a crush!” Sunoo suddenly giggles.

Sunghoon feels his stomach turn excitedly, his ears burning a bright red. “Shut up!” He mumbles, covering his face.

His friends begin to tease him, Sunghoon shakes his head furiously, though he peeks through his hands to glance at you once more.

When you laugh at something Kai says, he begins to wonder if his friends are on to something.

“Ta-da!”

You’re grinning as you flip your paper around to present to Sunghoon.

He looks up, blinks, then frowns.

“You like to eat stomachs?” He reads your calligraphy. “Huh? No, I like to eat pears.” You look at your paper yourself, confused.

Sunghoon begins to laugh, before standing up to walk around the table to your side. “You need to press down lightly on this character.” He instructs, leaning over you.

Instead of taking your brush like he usually did when he showed you the correct way, he grabbed your hand.

“L-Like this,” He stutters, leaning even closer to you as you allow him to guide you on the paper. Your hand is really small compared to his own, his fingers are almost half as long.

Your skin is soft and warm, he doesn't want to let go.

“Oh!” You suddenly exclaim, and he jumps back, releasing your hand.

“So that’s how you do it? Let me try again.” You begin to attempt again on your own. He watches over you as you try your best, all of your focus on your calligraphy.

He finds the way you scrunch your face up as you focus endearing, you’ve made a lot of progress.

Your reattempt is still not the best, but Sunghoon can admit this time he could actually read it. “You’re doing a lot better,” He says as he returns to his seat. “Really? I’ve been practicing at home,” You admit.

“You’ve been practicing?” Sunghoon repeats, surprised at your dedication. If he were being honest, he thought your interest in calligraphy was only confined to the old library.

“Yeah,” You smile, getting shy. “I want to show you my best.”

Oh.

The two of you keep eye contact as Sunghoon feels his face and ears begin to heat up. He was probably red all over from just that one compliment. Didn’t help that you looked gorgeous while staring at him.

“I-I think-uh- You’re doing a really good job so far.” He finally looks away, his nerves getting the best of him.

“Thank you.” You hum, smiling to yourself. “Oh, it’s already almost four, we should probably get going.” You say, and begin cleaning up.

The two of you quickly grab your stuff and sweep down the table before heading out.

Outside the sun is still bright, yet it’s lower in the sky than before. You both walk down the street, shoulder to shoulder. Every time you bump into each other, Sunghoon feels his heart race.

“Hey, want one?” You suddenly ask, opening your palm to reveal two pieces of creamy milk candy. The bright bunny logo catches his eye.

The idea of sharing candy with you is exhilarating to Sunghoon. Your sweet nature mimicked the sweetness of the candy awaiting before him.

“Thank you,” He smiles at you, letting his fingers graze your palm.

Together you two unwrap the candies, poppin them into your mouths. Sunghoon takes a bite and-

“What the fuck?!” You spit your candy back into its wrapper, face contorted in absolute disgust. Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to do the same, gagging as he does so.

“This is a crayon!” Sunghoon grimaces, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. “Where the hell did you get these?!”

You shake your head, trying to get the taste out of your mouth, but to no avail. “I don’t- I don’t remember I just- Riki handed some to me, and-”

“Wait,” Sunghoon interrupts you. “Riki gave you these?”

You nod, first confused, then realizing what he meant. “Oh my god I’m so stupid.” You groan. “I should have known when he randomly apologized to me, he even suggested I share them with you!”

“He’s always one step ahead,” Sunghoon glares into the distance. “Ugh I can’t get the taste out of my mouth!” You spit.

“I swallowed a little, will I die?” He worries, voicing his concern. “I need water- juice, I need something!” You look around for a vending machine.

“There! A Family Mart!” Sunghoon points down the road. He turns to you with an eager expression, holding his hand out to you.

“Come on, let’s go!” He urges. You hurriedly grab his hand, and the two of you run down the street, groans of disgust soon turning into giggles of excitement.

Sunghoon's lesson he learned today was that he doesn’t mind holding your hand. In fact, he likes it.

He likes you.

Log 3: Wednesday - March 6th, 2024 | Log 5: Wednesday - May 15th, 2024

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal masterlist | and scene! series masterlist | kpop masterlist

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72 notes · View notes

senazzzz · 3 days ago

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Ꮺ . . . ENHYPEN FOR WEVERSE MAGAZINE !!!

lee heeseung ,

park jongseong ,

sim jaeyun ,

yang jungwon ,

park sunghoon ,

kim sunoo ,

nishimura riki ,

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headlinxr · 3 days ago

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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 ─── 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠-𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

SYNOPSIS ! Sung-hoon is a renowned photographer who has managed to capture the essence of his models in a unique way, but his talent becomes his worst enemy. The moment he meets you, a young model whose beauty embodies his perfect vision of aesthetics, something dark ignites within him. What begins as an artistic fascination quickly transforms into a morbid obsession.

GENRE. non idol! au, f!reader, stalker x victim, obsession.

WARNINGS. stalking, Sung-hoon is weird, slight Stockholm syndrome.

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

The camera doesn't lie. Or at least, that's what Sung-hoon has believed for years, a truth he has carried with him in every step of his life. Through his lens, the world unfolds before him with absolute clarity, a universe reduced to lights and shadows, to shapes and textures, to a moment frozen in time that, according to him, reflects the immutable truth of existence. As a renowned photographer, Sung-hoon has achieved what few can: He has mastered his art with such skill that his images not only capture reality but also penetrate the very essence of his subjects, stripping their souls bare with almost surgical precision.

Each click of his camera is a sigh, a heartbeat, an attempt to capture the elusive. For him, photography is much more than a technical act; it is an unceasing quest for something deeper than a simple pose or a well-composed scene. In each photograph, Sung-hoon seeks to unravel the hidden essence of what he sees: that spark of vulnerability, that fragile beauty that lies behind everyday masks. The faces he photographs are not mere portraits, but windows to the truth, as if each image could decipher untold stories, repressed emotions, silenced fears. In his mastery of the interplay between light and shadow, he has found his most authentic voice, a visual language that allows him, with each shot, to transcend the limitations of the physical and touch the intangible.

He is a master in creating atmospheres, an alchemist of light who transforms the ordinary into something sublime. He knows that light, as elusive as life itself, has the power to reveal and conceal, to create depth in the superficial, and to give shape to what seems inert. For him, each shadow is a promise, and each flash of light, a revelation. In his hands, the camera becomes an almost divine instrument, capable of immortalizing moments that, in their transience, seem eternal. And yet, behind this unparalleled skill, there is a reality that Sung-hoon has refused for so long that he has come to forget it. His camera, which has been his most faithful companion, has also been his jailer.

Because while his art has elevated him to the pinnacle of recognition, it has condemned him to a solitary existence. The dedication he has put into his work, unwavering and absolute, has cost him much more than his time. He has sacrificed a personal life, a life he could never integrate with his vocation. He never had a partner who understood him, nor friends who shared his universe, nor family members who dared to call his attention outside of the studio. Love, friendship, human connections, seemed to him minor distractions in the face of the greatness of his photographic mission. In his mind, there was no room for anything other than visual perfection, the constant search for that transcendent image that could touch the very essence of life.

But while his world was being built through the lens, a subtle and silent darkness began to take shape within him. Each photo he took was a window to the outside, but at the same time, it closed the doors of his soul even more. The camera granted him the power to see and capture everything happening around him, but it denied him the ability to see what was happening in his own heart. In that space where shadows intertwine with light, where the ephemeral becomes eternal, Sung-hoon got lost. He became a distant observer, trapped in an endless cycle of images, but with no real contact with the life that existed beyond his lens. The loneliness he dragged along, hidden within the folds of his success, grew deeper, more overwhelming, until one day, he could no longer escape it.

As Sung-hoon's recognition grew, so did the shadow that loomed over his life. Fame, like a brilliant reflection, mirrored an image of success that the world applauded, but he felt increasingly disconnected, more alien to that applause, as if everything were part of a movie that was not his own. The galleries, the exhibitions, the critics' laudatory comments, the flashes capturing his moments of glory: none of it managed to penetrate the ice armor he had forged over the years. The camera, his tool of revelation, had made him an expert in the truth of others, but not in his own truth. And, despite being a creator of worlds, within himself lay a deep, unfathomable void that even the most powerful images could not fill.

In the stillness of his studio, surrounded by thousands of stories frozen on photographic paper, Sung-hoon found himself in a strange space, filled with foreign memories but empty of his own. The walls, adorned with his best works, offered him a vision of the world he had captured with meticulousness, but the images did not speak to him. Those faces, those gazes frozen in a second that seemed eternal, watched him with a fixity that overwhelmed him, as if judging him in their silence. The gestures he had halted in his journey through life now appeared to him as ghosts of a past he himself had lost. Each photograph was a masterpiece, yes, but also a cruel reminder that he had been a spectator in the lives of others, without truly participating in his own. The distance between him and his art had become an insurmountable abyss.

The studio lighting, which he had so expertly mastered when capturing the essence of others, now seemed distant and cold to him. The shadows he had used to build atmospheres in his photos now enveloped him like a mantle of darkness in his own life. His soul, which he had learned to sculpt in each image, slipped through his fingers like water, like a film unrolling before him, but which he could never touch. Sometimes, at the end of the day, when the last light of the day began to fade, he found himself in front of his photographs, in a silence that devoured him. A feeling of incompleteness overwhelmed him, as if his constant search in the eyes of others had been a way to evade his own face. Why, despite the fame, did he feel that something within him was slowly crumbling? The answer was not in the lens of his camera, but in the absence of a real connection with himself.

It was a typical work afternoon, without any preambles or announcements, when something inside him changed. While reviewing the photographs that would soon be part of his new exhibition, one in particular caught his attention. It was you, a young woman, with your gaze lost on the horizon, as if your thoughts floated beyond your body. In your expression, so laden with melancholy, Sung-hoon saw something he had never perceived before: His own reflection. The sorrow in your eyes, the fragility emanating from your face, the sadness seeping through your gestures, everything seemed so familiar. It was as if he himself, in his bewilderment and emptiness, had become you, trapped in a moment he couldn't let go of.

In that instant, the camera stopped being a simple tool to capture reality and transformed into a mirror. A mirror that reflected not only the image of its subject but also that of his own soul, slowly crumbling, invisible to the eyes of others. You were not just another subject in his photographic archive; you represented what he had left behind, what he had never been able to live. The melancholy of that image seeped into his very being, like an underground river that had finally found its way to the surface.

Sung-hoon was forced to confront the question he had been avoiding for so long: How many times, while observing others, had he seen his own emptiness reflected in their eyes? How many times had he searched in the gestures of his subjects for the humanity he had lost, as if he could find something of himself in the faces of others? Each photograph, he thought, had been a search to find what he had not been able to find in his own life. He had spent years chasing a truth that only existed in the shadows of his lens, without realizing that, in the process, he had stopped seeing the light within himself.

That night, when the studio lights went out and darkness began to fill the corners of the room, Sung-hoon found himself in front of the mirror. The reflection he saw there was not that of the renowned photographer, the man admired for his skill, for his unique vision. It was the face of a weary man, marked by years of sacrifices, of renunciations, of living in the world of images without ever daring to live in his own flesh. The dimness of the room was reflected in his eyes, filled with shadows, unfulfilled desires, lost affections. And as he looked at himself, he saw the traces of loneliness that he could no longer hide, the marks of a being who had been running for too long, without really knowing where to.

It was at that precise moment when something broke inside him. As if a window in your soul had opened, finally letting in the fresh and renewing air of introspection. The camera, which had been his refuge, his lifeline, his prison, ceased to be the only means of expression in his life. And for the first time in years, Sung-hoon began to wonder if it was possible to live outside the lens, if he could find a new way to connect with the world, to stop being a spectator and become a participant. Would he be able to find a life that was his own, without the mediation of the camera?

The search for truth in others had brought him there, to that breaking point. But now, something was beginning to take shape in his mind. Maybe the story he really needed to capture wasn't that of others, nor the image of a distant subject, but his own. The camera would no longer be his only way of seeing; perhaps the time had come to learn to look, for the first time, without filters.

Despite the internal storm that was tearing him apart, Sung-hoon found himself being pulled by an almost mechanical impulse towards the meeting he had with Jake. The appointment was marked in his agenda like a beacon guiding him towards a destiny he could not evade, a point in time that, no matter how much his soul screamed in resistance, he had to fulfill. In his mind, chaos reigned, a whirlwind of doubts and unease that rose like black clouds above him, so dense that he could barely see the light that once propelled him. Despite the years of success and recognition he had harvested in his career, an unfathomable void devoured his being. That void, which neither fame nor applause could fill, was his constant companion, his inseparable shadow. But still, he got up that morning, with a heaviness that crushed his shoulders, and headed to the café where he would meet Jake, his long-time companion, a man whose relationship with life was so different from his that he seemed from another world.

Jake had always been his counterpoint, his antithesis, and at the same time, his reflection. While Sung-hoon got lost in the dark depth of photography, searching for the soul of his subjects, Jake glided over the surface of life, finding beauty in simplicity and human connections with an ease that Sung-hoon had never experienced. Jake was a man who saw life in bright colors, with a cheerful disposition that contrasted with the photographer's somber and analytical gaze. For him, each encounter, each face was a story told without the need for capture, while Sung-hoon looked through the camera, searching for shadows and reflections, the invisible that could only be observed through the lens. But despite their differences, Jake was his companion, and that meeting was a bond that still maintained the appearance of normalcy in a world that was slipping through his fingers.

Upon arriving at the café, the feeling of unreality enveloped him strongly. The bustle of conversations, the sound of coffee being poured into cups, and the aroma that filled the air seemed like distant echoes to him, as if he were looking at the world from the distance of a photograph, frozen and distant. Each object in the place, each face that crossed his path, seemed like a lifeless painting, a static image that had nothing to offer him beyond its fleeting existence. Only the constant buzzing in his mind kept him anchored to that reality, but everything felt like a dream he hadn't chosen himself.

When Jake greeted him, his face lit up with that broad and contagious smile that had always been so bewildering to him. Sung-hoon looked at him, recognizing in him the unyielding energy that he so often wished to possess but never could. Next to Jake, there was a figure that seemed familiar, but he still couldn't put a name to it. A young woman, whose presence seemed to fill the space with a natural light that had nothing to do with the shadows Sung-hoon had grown accustomed to. It's you, your smile was so open and generous that it contrasted with the coldness surrounding Sung-hoon, like a ray of sunshine entering a gloomy room. Despite your apparent tranquility, your energy was so vibrant that it seemed to fill the air around you, flooding the room with a vitality that Sung-hoon felt was foreign.

—I'd like you to meet (Y/N)— said Jake, with a spark in his eyes that Sung-hoon couldn't ignore. —She's my new model and, well, also someone I've been dating lately.—

Sung-hoon nodded mechanically, unable to find words beyond polite formality. His mind, on the other hand, was already beginning to process the image of you. Something felt unsettling to him, as if your presence challenged the stillness he had sought in the photograph. When you extended your hand to him, your gesture was warm and filled with that energy that Sung-hoon had never understood, as natural and genuine as the air he breathed. Despite his attempts to maintain emotional distance, Sung-hoon, inside, was as tense as a wire, with his jaw clenched and his fingers closing around his hand with a rigidity he couldn't disguise. It was as if he were touching something that didn't belong to him, something he couldn't possess.

—(Y/N), it's a pleasure to meet you— he said, with his usual cold and calculated tone, but despite his control, a small crack opened in his voice, a slight tremor that betrayed the internal storm shaking his chest.

You looked at him with a smile that, although warm, never wavered. Your posture was relaxed, completely oblivious to the conflict raging within him. It was a sight that seemed out of place in Sung-hoon's world. In the photograph he had captured the day before, you had been a shadow of yourself, a figure breathing sadness, deep melancholy, as if the world had stopped offering something worthy of your gaze. He had captured that essence, that gaze lost on the horizon, that fragility that so attracted him, seeking in you what he himself felt was missing: A naked truth, almost painful, that could only be understood through a lens. But now, in front of him, stood a completely different woman. The melancholy he had imagined was replaced by a vibrant light, an energy that seemed so foreign to the image he had created in his mind. It was not the sad figure he had seen in his camera, but a beacon of joy, a warm glow that illuminated everything around him.

Sung-hoon, for a moment, was paralyzed, as if time had stopped. The figure of the young woman in front of him was not the same one he had captured. The reflection he had found in his camera, the sadness and depth he thought he understood, crumbled before his eyes. Reality was imposing itself with a force that bewildered him. This woman was not a shadow, not an emptiness; you were the very antithesis of what he had sought. Something twisted inside him, a mix of frustration and fascination, as if the image he had created, the one he had conceived through his lens, was being torn from his being.

Was that the same woman he had portrayed? Was it possible for a captured image to be so radically different from reality? Confusion overwhelmed him, frustration began to take shape, mingling with a strange feeling of jealousy, as if your life were a slap in the face to the truth he had tried to find in his work.

While the conversation continued between Jake and you, Sung-hoon remained silent, his gaze fixed on you, who now seemed an impossible enigma to decipher. Every word you spoke, every move you made, confirmed something he feared: The image he had built of you no longer existed, and he was unable to comprehend the real woman standing before him. The photograph, which had always been his refuge and his way of understanding the world, now betrayed him, crumbling in his hands.

With each breath, a small dark spark began to burn within his being. It was no longer about admiration, no longer just fascination. It was something deeper, something that awakened in him an even greater sense of emptiness. There was something he couldn't reach, something he had touched in his chamber but that now seemed to slip through his fingers, like the light he had tried so hard to seize.

And as his heart beat with growing anxiety, he realized something terrifying: Perhaps photography hadn't given him what he thought it had. Maybe what he needed to capture wasn't in the world he saw through the lens, but in the darkness that hid within him.

From that day on, something in Sung-hoon began to crumble like an old film that, exposed to light, starts to tear and disintegrate. His initial fascination with you, a light curiosity, an admiration fueled by the desire to capture your ephemeral beauty, slowly transformed into an excessive obsession. The lens of his camera, that object he had used for years to spy on the human soul, now took on a different weight, a dark power that seemed to dictate the rules of the relationship. He no longer saw you as a fleeting muse, but as an immaculate canvas, a virgin territory that had to be conquered over and over again. Each click of the shutter was not just a reminder of his technical prowess, but a twisted validation of his need to possess the image of you, to freeze it in a perpetual instant, to impose his will upon you. Each shot was a subtle, almost imperceptible affirmation that what he captured through his camera was his. In his mind, distorted by obsession, each shot reinforced the idea that his love, his devotion to you, was reciprocated, that his control over the image meant control over your being.

The first time Sung-hoon photographed you without your consent, it wasn't an accident; it was a chance disguised as an opportunity. You were sitting on the edge of a window, motionless, looking out at the garden as if the outside world were an extension of your thoughts. The soft afternoon light slipped through the curtains, illuminating your face with an almost celestial clarity. In that moment, Sung-hoon raised the camera instinctively, almost as if the gesture were an extension of his own being. There was no time to think about it, no space for reflection. It was a visceral impulse, a need to capture the image before it faded, as if your beauty were a flash of light that only he could capture, preserve, and, in his mind, possess. The sound of the shutter, so familiar, vibrated in his chest with an indescribable satisfaction, a shiver that ran down his spine. In that single second, something inside him broke even more. The image he was creating was not simply that of a beautiful woman, nor just another of his artistic photographs. It was an attempt to possess you, to trap you, to hold you in a space that he controlled. Through the lens, you became a static object, a being that, for him, no longer existed in the unpredictable flow of time, but in a capsule of light and shadow that only he could decode.

The camera, which had once been his tool to capture the essence of reality, began to transform into a channel to something much darker, a means to impose his will, to create his own distorted version of the truth. Thus, he began to photograph you compulsively, without rest. The sessions were no longer scheduled or agreed upon; they were driven by an uncontrollable impulse fueled by the need to see you in your purest, most fragmented, most his form. Sung-hoon was not just a photographer; he saw himself as a sculptor in the darkness, molding reality, shaping your figure with the precision of his lens, seeking perfection in every angle, in every light. He asked you to stay for an "improvised session," suggested poses with an apparent delicacy that disguised itself as professionalism, but in every gesture, every instruction, there was an insatiable need for control. The power of the camera, the ability to capture a moment in time, became a game of manipulation, a dance in which he was not only the director but the absolute creator.

Each image created was another step towards the achievement of his ideal, an ideal that distorted both your figure and reality itself. There was something perverse in the way he looked at you, a fascination that went beyond mere aesthetic pursuit. It was no longer just about capturing the beauty he had found in his other subjects; in you, he sought something more, something that belonged to him, a beauty he could hold in his power. And, like a painter who wants to capture the soul of his muse in every stroke, Sung-hoon aspired for that beauty to be his, only his, until it merged with his own vision. The camera was no longer just a medium; it had become an instrument of control, an artifact that, in his hands, could strip the woman of your humanity, transforming you into a frozen and manipulated image.

The sessions dragged on indefinitely, and you, although initially immersed in the fascination of art, began to feel increasingly uncomfortable. At first, you thought that Sung-hoon was simply an eccentric, a man trapped in his art, like those cursed geniuses of history who saw the world through a unique, distorted lens. You tried to convince yourself that your concerns were an overreaction, that you weren't seeing things clearly. But as the days went by, something inside you began to resist, as if a small alarm in your subconscious was going off. Every glance Sung-hoon directed at you, every moment he spent in front of the camera, made you feel as if his presence was constantly being analyzed, dissected, reduced to a series of visual formulas that he controlled at will. It was no longer just about capturing his image, but about taking possession of you. Each gesture, each instruction, felt like another strategy to strip you of your identity, to make it fit into the image he had created of you.

After one of those long sessions, you met with Jake to talk about what you had been feeling, even though the words seemed inadequate to describe the discomfort that was overwhelming you. You feared that by expressing myself, your feelings might seem excessive, melodramatic. However, something inside you told you that you couldn't ignore it any longer.

—Jake— you began, your voice wavering, —I'm not sure how to explain it, but... Sung-hoon is being weird with me. He is constantly taking pictures of me, but it's not just for work. Sometimes I feel like he isn't seeing the person I am, but rather an image he has created in his mind. It makes me feel… Uncomfortable. As if he were watching me to decipher something I can't control.—

Jake looked at you thoughtfully, but in his expression, there was something that suggested indifference. In his world, your image in Sung-hoon's camera was not just a portrait; it was an open door to fame. The name of Sung-hoon, so well-known, could be the key that launched your career. What better way to rise in the artistic world than to be under his lens?

—Come on, darling— he said with a confident smile. —Sung-hoon is eccentric, I know, but he's not doing anything wrong. You have to see this as an opportunity. Not everyone is lucky enough to be photographed by him. This could be just what you need to take the next step in your career.—

Despite Jake's reassuring words, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The discomfort you had started to feel with Sung-hoon persisted, growing with each session. Every time he looked at you through the lens, his eyes seemed not only to capture your image but to scrutinize, to penetrate deep within. In his mind, the photographs were not just images, they were not simply captures of a moment. They were symbols of his control, his power, his one-sided and uncontrollable love. In Sung-hoon's universe, each photograph was a declaration: I possess you, I have understood you, I have made you mine.

Meanwhile, Sung-hoon continued his obsessive collection of images. Each click of the shutter was another step towards the creation of a distorted version of you, a version that only he knew and that no one else could understand. In his mind, the photographs wove together like threads forming an invisible web, a space he controlled, where his impossible and unrequited love could live, eternal, beyond the truth.

As Sung-hoon's obsession deepened, his once contained and meticulous nature began to crumble slowly, like an hourglass whose grain of sand never ceased to fall. The darkness that surrounded him grew denser, like a thick fog that took over the room, the air, the space he occupied. Your perfection, so incandescent and ephemeral in its image, was no longer just your face, nor the curve of your body under the soft light of the sunset. No, you yourself had become the very essence of his vision, the focus to which Sung-hoon had dedicated every millimeter of his art. For him, you were no longer a woman; you were a symbol, a canvas yet to be painted, a mystery yet to be solved, and the camera, that extension of his being, was his only passport to that distorted world he had begun to build around you.

The photographer, trapped in his own twisted conception of love and beauty, no longer just captured the light that fell upon you like a brush caressing the canvas. He had become a sculptor of shadows, an architect of moments, a man trying to redraw reality to match the chaos that inhabited his mind. And while his lens rested upon you, his gaze went far beyond the visible, beyond the external appearance that so fascinated others. His eye, always trained to capture the raw and natural beauty of life, now dedicated itself to observing every crack in your soul, every fragment of vulnerability you tried to hide. His vision, once purely artistic, had become an act of possession.

Sung-hoon was not just a mere observer; he infiltrated, like a painter delving into the history of his muse before putting a single stroke on the canvas. He began to explore your intimacy with the same precision with which he composed a perfect shot. In every word you let slip unintentionally, in every sigh that was just for him, the photographer saw an opportunity to discover something new, something deeper. He knew you more than you could imagine. The cracks you had tried to cover with an impeccable facade were now his field of study. He knew of your fears, your dark memories, the scars you carried in your soul, those stories that, had it not been for Sung-hoon's meticulous patience, would have remained as secrets buried in time. He was not simply an observer, but a collector of broken memories, a gatherer of the fragments of your being that you had never shown to anyone.

In his daily interactions, his deep knowledge of your personal life slipped into the conversation with the subtlety of a sharp knife. In a casual comment, Sung-hoon inserted fragments of his private life, as if they were simple, unimportant observations. —I remember that time you mentioned your father, as if you were still seeking his approval— he said quietly one day, while adjusting the lights in the studio. —And that little corner in your apartment, where you keep the old letters... You always keep it closed, why is that?— Each word, each insinuation was like a fishing line cast into the wind, trapping you in an invisible net of your own past, a net that, although as fine as a thread, tightened over time until you could no longer move without being aware of Sung-hoon's constant watchfulness.

For him, it was not enough to capture the light that surrounded you; he had to seize your soul. With each shot, with each scene he asked to repeat, Sung-hoon was searching for something deeper: A distorted truth that only he could see, a facet of you that existed only in his mind. The camera, which had once been his tool to capture the essence of others, transformed into his chain of control, a tool of power that connected him to you, an invisible bond that kept you close, that kept you in his line of sight. And although you began to feel the pressure, the threat of the invisible, you couldn't escape. At first thinking that it was all part of Sung-hoon's eccentricity, his dedication to perfection. But soon, the truth became evident: you weren't being photographed; you were being observed, studied, dismantled piece by piece.

Sung-hoon never resorted to brute force or open threats. He was much more skilled than that. His control was not in strong words or confrontation; his power lay in subtlety, in silent gestures, in the whispers that accompanied each shot, in the way he manipulated the perception of reality through the lens of his camera. He didn't need to say it openly: He knew you were beginning to understand the extent of his influence. Each suggestion, each gesture of support, was imbued with a tacit expectation, the expectation that you would follow him, that you would continue playing your role in the image he had created. He offered you opportunities, but those opportunities were nothing more than carefully woven traps, designed to make you more dependent on him, to draw you even closer to the distorted picture of yourself.

And, like a photographer who discovers an imperfection in a seemingly perfect image, Sung-hoon begins to notice the cracks in your facade. Your smile, which had once been natural and carefree, was beginning to seem forced. Your responses, once so full of life, were now shorter, more evasive. The sparkle in your eyes, which I had captured so many times, was now subtly fading. For Sung-hoon, each of these moments was a revelation. He was not only seeing the woman you pretended to be, but he was also seeing the woman he had begun to shape in his mind, a creation that had no escape. The pressure, invisible but palpable, was his signature. In the tremor of an unspoken word, in the imperceptible shift in posture, Sung-hoon found what he had been searching for: Beauty in fragility, art in oppression, control in broken perfection.

Meanwhile, you began to feel trapped in your own image, a distorted reflection that Sung-hoon had created around you. He, the god of shadows and light, saw the truth behind the masks, and you could no longer hide what he wished to see. The worst part is that, in his mind, you were already part of his creation, a muse that only existed through him. In the web he had woven, you found yourself trapped, not knowing if the exit was an illusion or if the only way to escape was to become someone else, someone completely different from the image he had shaped. But, as always happened in photography, there was no turning back: The exposure had been made, and what remained was a fixed, unchangeable image that only he could understand.

As the days slid by slowly, like a movie advancing in slow motion under the relentless direction of fate, you began to perceive how the walls of your own world, once open and full of possibilities, were closing in, trapping you with a subtle but devastating force. It was as if you were trapped in a photograph that never stopped being taken, each moment immortalized, each gesture meticulously framed. Every word Sung-hoon uttered, every glance he cast, were no longer mere interactions; they were fragments of a story he had written without your permission, a tale in which you were trapped, like a porcelain figure in the lens of a photographer obsessed with capturing your essence, with no voice or vote over your own portrait. It was a story that had ceased to belong to you, a narrative from which you had become an unwilling spectator, watching yourself from a distance that stripped you of your humanity.

In his mind, the perception of time and reality began to blur like the light dissolving on the horizon, tinting everything around him with increasingly dense shadows. Before, your world had been clear, like a well-exposed photograph; but now everything seemed to be revealed through a dark filter, as if the image were taken with a defective lens that distorted colors and shapes. The man who had been, until then, your mentor and companion, began to reveal himself as a dark, twisted, and distant figure, whose influence had infiltrated her life with the subtlety of a rising tide. Sung-hoon, with his gaze fixed like that of a predator, had managed to weave his control over you in such a subtle and meticulous manner that, at times, you wondered if you had ever been free. Freedom, once a natural right, now seemed to You an illusion fading among the folds of a photograph that had been taken without her consent.

Sung-hoon had transformed every corner of your life into a stage where only he dictated the rules. In his mind, every scene had to be directed by him, and you were nothing more than the actress chosen to play a role you didn't know. At first, you had believed that his obsession with you was the passionate fervor of an artist who seeks, like a painter lost in the meticulous details of his muse, to capture every nuance of your essence. But soon you realized that the camera, that extension of the human eye in which he trusted blindly, had become a watchful eye, an unrelenting lens that not only captured your image but also disfigured you, twisted you, and reduced you to a distorted shadow. The light, that sublime element which once revealed beauty, had ceased to be your ally. Now, each ray of light seemed like a threat, a deadly trap in which you found yourself ensnared, trapped within the frame of a reality he had created for you.

Sung-hoon's camera was not simply a tool for creating art; it had evolved into a weapon of control. Each click, each capture, was an assertion of his dominance, a manifestation of his power over your life and identity. In his eyes, you were not a complete woman, but a canvas on which he could paint without your consent, a blank page that had to be molded according to his will. And the most devastating thing of all was that, at first, You had believed he saw you as you truly were, that his work as a photographer had allowed him to delve into the very essence of your being. But, over time, the truth began to slowly unveil itself, like an old layer of paint peeling away, revealing the cracks in the facade he had built. Sung-hoon didn't see you. He didn't understand you. I had reduced you to an image, a figure projected onto the wall, a puppet whose only mission was to fit into the distorted vision of your world.

However, something within you began to awaken. It was a small spark, almost imperceptible, like a glimmer in the darkness, but it grew with each passing day under Sung-hoon's control. The feeling of being trapped became increasingly unbearable, as if his room were an invisible prison, a glass cell that only reflected your own image, as if You were looking at yourself through a mirror that only returned your despair. Every time he looked at you, every word, every seemingly innocent gesture of affection, transformed into a symbol of his manipulation. The casual comments about his past, the insinuations about his darkest secrets, no longer seemed like simple observations; they became sharp knives buried in your skin, constantly reminding you that he knew your vulnerabilities, that he could destroy you if he wanted to.

Each day that passed under his dominion, you felt your freedom fading more and more, like a photograph that, as it develops, begins to dissolve in the water, losing its definition, its life, its color. The pressure that was once subtle had transformed into an unstoppable force, a rising tide that pushed you towards the unknown, towards the disintegration of your own identity. The camera, which had been your refuge, your art, your way of seeing the world, had now become your jailer. And Sung-hoon, the man you had admired, had transformed into the architect of your destiny, a god who shaped reality at his whim, playing with light and shadow like a puppeteer who manipulates humans to his will.

Like a lighthouse in the midst of the storm, the possibility of escape began to become clearer, though still vague. You knew you couldn't keep living trapped in the shadows that Sung-hoon had cast over you. The struggle to regain your freedom turned into a frantic race against time, a desperate sprint to prevent him from completely destroying the public image you had so carefully cultivated. You began to search for clues, to scrutinize the details, to look for the cracks in the perfect facade of your life that Sung-hoon had built. You were like a detective in your own life, unraveling the web of lies he had woven around you, with every word, every action of his turned into a clue about his hidden intentions.

As your thoughts organized themselves, You began to notice details that had previously gone unnoticed. The photo shoots, which once seemed like an artistic ritual, now revealed their true nature: A carefully designed strategy to keep you close, to continue controlling your image and, therefore, your life. The compliments I once considered sincere, the insinuations that seemed like flattery, the intense looks from Sung-hoon, were no longer mere displays of admiration. They had become tools of manipulation, like the light a photographer uses to highlight only the elements they want, the viewer to see, darkening everything else. The truth, like a film that has been exposed to the sun for too long, began to reveal itself with blinding clarity.

Sung-hoon, however, was not a man who could be disarmed so easily. In his mind, each interaction with you was another shot, another take that brought him closer to his ultimate goal: to possess you completely, to break you until only the perfect image he had forged in his mind remained. He knew you were starting to notice his control, but, like a photographer playing with light and shadow, he remained in the shadows, hidden, manipulating every piece of the puzzle without your seeing it. His power lay in the ability to make you feel vulnerable, to introduce thoughts into your mind that would leave You trapped in your own confusion, like a poison silently seeping into the current of your consciousness.

Time, that elusive abstraction that had always slipped through his fingers like fine sand, began to take on the texture of an impenetrable wall. The days, which once stretched like an endless chain of empty moments, now intertwined in a spiral of shadows that faded and dissolved into a whirlwind of uncertainty. Each attempt to flee, each fleeting glance towards an exit that became increasingly unattainable, evaporated with the swiftness with which shadows succumb to light, leaving behind only the sensation of emptiness. In the course of your silent resistance, you came to understand, with painful and dizzying clarity, that escaping from Sung-hoon was not a tangible option, not a viable alternative. Like photographic film that, when exposed to light for too long, develops prematurely, the fate of your actions was already marked, predestined. And as this truth settled in his chest like an unbearable weight, hopelessness began to wrap around his soul, as heavy and dense as the camera hanging from his neck, like an extension of his own being, relentless, like the presence of a specter.

The air, once light and breathable, became thick, like the tension-filled atmosphere inside a dark room, where harsh and cold lights create a palpable sense of claustrophobia. The flow of life, that incessant and turbulent river, seemed to have halted its course, gently moving you towards an abyss from which you could not escape. You no longer fought against the current. The tide of your destiny enveloped you, absorbing you with an almost hypnotic force, as if everything were in its place, as if everything were part of a carefully composed picture. Your resistance dissolved, like an image fading in the developer, when the chemical envelops you and erases the edges of what was once defined. The contours of his will blurred, softening, fading, until the unquenchable impulse for release that had burned in his chest extinguished, fading like the last light of day when the sun sinks below the horizon, leaving only the cold darkness that follows.

Sung-hoon, the man who had been your mentor, your companion, your torturer, and your savior, had taken on the form of a dark, almost mythical figure, a silhouette in which light and shadow merged into an incomplete portrait. Throughout your time together, you had believed you knew him, that you understood each of the intentions hidden behind his icy gaze, like the reflection on the calm surface of water disturbed by a stone falling without warning. But now, in the midst of the silence that surrounded you, you realized that you had been nothing more than a piece in a work that you could not fully comprehend. You were part of a photograph revealing itself before you, an image constructed by a photographer whose vision had transformed you into something even you didn't recognize. And yet, instead of rejecting that truth, something strange began to well up in your chest, like a subtle whisper, a spark of light filtering through a crack in the darkness. It wasn't love, at least not in its purest form, but it was something that resembled it, something more enigmatic and complex. It was a fatalistic acceptance, a kind of silent submission that was beginning to reshape your perception of Sung-hoon.

You had feared it before, that light emanating from his chamber, which you had believed revealed the truth behind the masks. That same light, which now trapped you like an invisible spider's web, kept your soul captive. The intensity of his gaze, that tireless observation that never seemed to leave you, had become the core of your anxiety, a focal point of unease that consumed you. But, as time passed and the concept of escape faded as quickly as shadows succumb to the first ray of sunlight, you began to see something different, something new. Like a photographer examining an image on their screen and realizing that what once seemed blurry is, in fact, a photograph with a disturbing and unique beauty, you began to perceive the complexity of Sung-hoon. The darkness that once terrified you now contained nuances you could not ignore. Each of his gestures, each word he uttered, each glance, contained a profound truth about his being, something that transcended mere manipulation. It was like a lens that distorts the world, but at the same time, captures a raw beauty, a beauty that was undeniable, though incomplete.

Sung-hoon, in his obsession with perfection, was not simply a man with selfish desires for control. His need to capture the essence of the world, of humanity itself, through his camera, was something more visceral, more profound. The photographer was not just an observer of the world; he molded it, took it in his hands like a sculptor shaping clay. And you, caught in that web he had woven around you, began to see, even to admire, that skill, that tireless drive to dominate nature through art. Sung-hoon's vision was not a desire for manipulation, but a primitive impulse, a need to freeze the essence of the moment into a pure image, albeit devoid of all compassion. Somehow, you felt a deep admiration for him, for his ability to distill the chaos of reality into something simpler, more comprehensible. Light and shadow, those two opposites, were no longer enemies in his world. Now they were your allies, and you found yourself trapped in a scene where you were not only the subject but also the spectator of your own existence.

Sung-hoon was not just a man. He was the architect of his world, the demiurge who wove reality around him, undoing and redoing the threads of fate with the same skill with which he adjusted the frame of a photograph. Somehow, you understood that his own complicity in that process had given him the power to transform you. Like an old photograph that, over time, fades and changes, your resistance to him began to crumble like a negative dissolving in water. You no longer saw him as a jailer, a monster who kept you trapped. Instead, you saw him as the creator of a world in which, despite yourself, you felt special, unique. Sung-hoon's control was no longer oppressive; instead, it became a reflection of his own essence, a control woven with almost artistic patience and precision.

That feeling was an amalgamation of fear, fascination, respect, and acceptance. You disliked him, yes, but at the same time, there was something about him that attracted you, something impossible to ignore, something that overflowed the surface of his being. The shadows that once surrounded you now illuminated the truth of your existence, and what once seemed like a prison, a space of despair, now became a refuge where your soul, marked and distorted by Sung-hoon's lens, found itself. The light and the darkness, the contrasts and the shadows, began to weave into a single thread, creating a new reality, a new identity.

Each shot from Sung-hoon's camera not only kept you under his control. It offered you a strange form of comfort. In each image he captured, you saw not only a distorted version of yourself but also a more authentic, more complete one. The light and shadow, which once disturbed you, now took on a new dimension, one in which you found acceptance, transformation. Somehow, you had learned to embrace the image that Sung-hoon had created of you, an imperfect, broken portrait, but essentially true. A portrait that, like humanity itself, reflected fragility, internal struggle, and the inevitable beauty of the struggle itself.

Sung-hoon hadn't destroyed your identity. He had transformed it. And, slowly, as you began to understand the depth of that transformation, you realized that you were no longer a victim of his control, but a work in progress, an image still taking shape under the relentless lens of a man whose art had learned to reveal the deepest essence of your being. Without being able to help it, your feelings towards him became a whirlwind of contradictory emotions, a spiral in which love and fear, submission and admiration intertwined, trapped in a portrait whose exposure was not yet complete. And, like a photograph that is yet to be fully developed, you found yourself trapped in the endless process of its own revelation.

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