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Contains: Crack, fluff, sexual content (MDNI). Giselle (Aespa), Manon(Katseye), Yunjin(Le serrafim) ,Wonyoung (Ive), OT7 enhypen. Mentions of Drugs (alcohol) , nudes, Scandals, hate trains, heartbreak, cheating(I DO NOT CONDONE).
Synopsis: Its Christmas time and y/n from the group SOULMII is hosting a Christmas variety show called 'Christmas Pajamicles with y/n/n. For 25 days of december she invites many different idols on to the show. What happens when The new episode drops and fans see that there is some type of chemistry lingering throughout the video, How will the fans react...will they be mad or will they be excited to see new "friendships" come alive.
SYNOPSIS. weeks after the incident at his race, heeseung still hasn't made a move on you, so why not put him in a position where he has to make a move ?
pairing. racer!heeseung x f!reader wc. 00k tw. kissing , hee is down bad genre. fluff ( CATALOGUE )
you try to ignore him, really, you do. but heeseung makes it impossible. every time you think you've found a moment to yourself, there he is—leaning too close, his voice a low murmur in your ear, his presence like a gravity you can't escape.
like when you're fixing a few settings on the car, crouched by the rear wheels in the dimly lit garage. you hear him before you see him, the sound of his boots against the concrete, and then suddenly, he's next to you.
"you need help?" he asks, but the way he's leaning down, peering over your shoulder, it feels less like an offer and more like an intrusion. "i've got it," you reply, your voice steady despite the way your hands tremble slightly as you work.
but he doesn't back off. instead, he crouches beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the faint scent of his cologne sending your senses into overdrive.
"you sure? looks like you're struggling." his tone is teasing, but there's something in his voice—a low, husky note—that makes your stomach flip.
"i'm fine," you snap, your frustration masking the way your pulse races.
but then his hand covers yours, stopping your movements as he leans in even closer. "let me help," he says, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper.
you freeze, your breath hitching as his fingers curl over yours, guiding your hand as if you suddenly forgot how to do your job. the proximity is unbearable, his body so close you can feel the heat radiating from him, and you hate the way your heart races, the way your skin burns under his touch.
the tension only escalates when the team organizes a party to celebrate a recent win. the air is thick with music and laughter, the dim lighting casting a golden glow over the room. you tell yourself you'll stay in the corner, nursing your drink and avoiding heeseung, but of course, he finds you.
"you're awfully quiet tonight," he remarks, leaning against the bar beside you. "just tired, “ you say, avoiding his gaze.
but he doesn't let up. "you know, if you keep acting like this, people are gonna start thinking i did something to you," he teases, his tone light but his eyes sharp, searching yours for a reaction.
"you did," you mutter under your breath, though you're not sure he hears you.
and then you see her—some girl from the team, laughing at something heeseung says, her hand lingering a little too long on his arm. you know it's none of your business, but the sight of them together ignites something in you, a sharp pang of jealousy that you can't ignore.
fine, two can play that game.
you spot someone across the room—a guy you vaguely recognize, another driver from a different team. he's tall, good-looking, and more than willing to entertain you when you approach him with a coy smile.
"hey," you say, tilting your head just enough to let your hair fall over your shoulder, your smile sweet but calculated. "i don't think we've met."
the guy's response is immediate, his interest obvious as he leans closer, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back as he talks. you don't hear a word he says—you're too focused on the weight of heeseung's gaze burning into you from across the room.
it works.
heeseung's jaw tightens, his grip on his drink white-knuckled as he watches you laugh at something the guy says, your hand brushing against his arm. the tension in the room shifts, the air between you and heeseung crackling like a live wire despite the distance.
before you know it, he's there, stepping between you and the other guy with a look that could cut glass.
"can i borrow her for a second?" heeseung doesn't wait for an answer, his hand closing around your wrist as he pulls you away from the crowd. "what the hell are you doing?" you snap, wrenching your arm free once you're out of earshot.
"me? what the hell are you doing?" he fires back, his voice low but filled with barely restrained anger.
"talking to someone," you retort, crossing your arms over your chest. "why do you care?"
heeseung steps closer, his gaze intense, his voice dropping even lower. "because i do," he says, the words sharp and raw, cutting through the space between you.
your breath catches, the air around you thick with tension as heeseung's eyes lock onto yours. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the weight of everything unspoken hanging heavy in the air. "you're unbelievable," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and something else you can't quite name.
"and you drive me insane," he mutters, his voice rough, his eyes dark as they flicker to your lips. the moment stretches, charged and electric, and then suddenly, it snaps.
heeseung steps back, running a hand through his hair as he exhales sharply. "forget it," he mutters, his voice tight. "do whatever you want."
but as he turns to leave, you grab his arm, your resolve crumbling under the weight of everything you've been trying to deny.
"wait," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
he pauses, his back to you, and for a moment, you think he won't turn around. but then he does, his eyes meeting yours, and the vulnerability there takes your breath away.
you don't even realize you're holding onto his arm until his gaze drops to where your hand grips his sleeve. heat rises to your cheeks, but you can't bring yourself to let go. not yet.
"i..." your voice falters as you try to form a coherent sentence, but the weight of his stare makes it impossible to think straight. heeseung tilts his head, his usual cocky smirk replaced with something softer, almost hesitant. "you what?"
"i just..." you exhale sharply, frustrated with yourself. why does he always have this effect on you? "i need to say something."
heeseung's brows raise slightly, but he doesn't interrupt. instead, he takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming as he waits for you to continue. the words are on the tip of your tongue, but they're stuck, tangled up with your pride and your fear. your grip on his sleeve tightens as you look down, avoiding his gaze.
"you've been driving me crazy," you finally blurt out, your voice barely above a whisper. "ever since... ever since that day. i can't stop thinking about you, and it's so frustrating because i don't even like you—"
"don't lie to me," heeseung interrupts, his voice low and steady.
your head snaps up, your eyes meeting his. there's no smugness in his expression now, no teasing grin. just raw intensity, like he's daring you to deny it. "i'm not lying," you argue, but your voice wavers, betraying you.
heeseung takes another step forward, closing the gap between you until you're practically backed against the wall. his hands come up to rest on either side of your head, trapping you in place as his eyes bore into yours.
"then why are you shaking?" he asks softly, his tone almost gentle.
your breath hitches, and you curse yourself for the way your body betrays you—your racing heart, your trembling hands, the heat flooding your cheeks. "because you're annoying," you manage to say, though it comes out weak and unconvincing.
heeseung's lips twitch, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through. "annoying, huh?"
"yes," you snap, trying to regain some semblance of control. "you're arrogant, and reckless, and you always—"
your words die in your throat as he leans in, his face so close you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. "and yet," he murmurs, his voice barely audible, "you're still here."
your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest, the air between you crackling with tension. his gaze drops to your lips, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. "heeseung," you whisper, but you're not even sure what you're about to say.
his eyes flicker back to yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. when he finds none, he closes the remaining distance, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most tentative kiss. it's over too quickly, barely more than a fleeting touch, but it's enough to leave you breathless, your mind spinning.
heeseung pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. "say it," he murmurs, his voice so soft it almost breaks you. "say what?" you ask, your voice shaking.
"that you feel it too," he replies, his eyes searching yours.
and you do. you feel it in the way your heart races, in the way your entire body seems to lean into him, drawn to him like a magnet.
"i..." you hesitate, the words catching in your throat.
heeseung waits, his patience surprising as he watches you with an intensity that makes your knees weak. finally, you let out a shaky breath, your walls crumbling as you admit the truth. "i do."
a slow, almost disbelieving smile spreads across his face, and before you can say anything else, he's kissing you again. this time, there's nothing tentative about it—it's deep, consuming, and leaves no room for doubt.
you lose yourself in him, in the way his hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer, in the way his lips move against yours like they were made to fit together. when you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads still pressed together as you try to catch your breath.
"you're impossible," you murmur, but there's no heat behind your words, only a lingering sense of awe.
"and you're stubborn," he counters, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.
you roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile that breaks through. "we're a mess."
"maybe," he agrees, his grin widening. "but we're our mess."
and for the first time in what feels like forever, you don't feel the need to argue. instead, you lean into him, letting yourself fall into the chaos that is heeseung.
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“My Greatest Prize” Yandere Idol Sunoo x Idol Reader
Summary: Yandere idol Sunoo has always been obsessed with you, a fellow idol he believes is too pure and overworked for the harsh entertainment industry. After attending a fan meeting where a simple touch and a giggle convince him that you chose him, Sunoo decides to take matters into his own hands. Using his resources, he kidnaps you, bringing you to a beautifully decorated home designed for the two of you. As he showers you with affection, gifts, and promises of a perfect life, you realize you’re trapped in a carefully constructed fantasy where Sunoo believes you belong to him—and only him.
• Mild Threats of Harm (Implied if the reader resists too much)
• Loss of Autonomy/Freedom
The blinding stage lights, the roar of the crowd, the synchronized choreography—you were everything Sunoo had ever dreamed of. The way you smiled, the way you twirled, the way your eyes sparkled when you interacted with fans—he had watched every performance, memorized every lyric you sang, and analyzed every subtle movement you made. You weren’t just an idol to him. You were his.
Of course, Sunoo himself was a top-tier idol, adored worldwide, but none of his fans compared to you. No one else made his heart race the way you did. No one else made him feel so alive. He had spent months collecting your photocards, attending your concerts whenever he could slip away from his own grueling schedule, and watching your fancams on repeat late into the night.
But it wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough.
Then came the fan-meeting. A rare opportunity for him to be this close to you. Sunoo pulled every string, paid any price, and used every connection to secure a front-row seat. When the moment finally arrived, and he was seated at the signing table across from you, he felt his heart pound violently in his chest.
You smiled at him, eyes bright and welcoming. Too bright. Too kind. It was dangerous for you to be this beautiful—so perfect—so oblivious to the dangers lurking in the shadows of the industry.
“Sunoo! It’s such an honor to meet you!” you chirped, clearly recognizing him. Of course, you did. He was famous, after all.
His lips curled into a sweet smile, masking the possessive hunger clawing at his insides. “The honor is mine. I’ve been your fan for a long time.”
Your cheeks flushed at his words, and you giggled—an innocent, fleeting sound. But to Sunoo, it was a siren song, a spell that solidified his decision.
He had to take you.
He had to save you from this cruel, exhausting industry. From fans who didn’t deserve you. From managers who overworked you. From a world that didn’t understand that you belonged to him.
And then it happened. The moment that sealed your fate.
You reached out to take his album to sign, and as you did, your fingers brushed against his. Instead of pulling away, you hesitated for just a second too long, tilting your head cutely. “Oh! Your hands are so soft, Sunoo!” you giggled. “I think I’m jealous.”
It was a simple, harmless comment, but to Sunoo, it was the final push. His fingers tingled where they had touched yours, a jolt of electricity shooting up his arm and straight to his brain.
You had chosen him.
In your own innocent way, you had given yourself to him.
Sunoo’s smile widened as he gazed at you, his mind already spiraling into obsession. He imagined you locked away somewhere safe—far away from prying eyes, away from the suffocating demands of fame. Just you and him, where no one could ever take you away.
As you scribbled your autograph, blissfully unaware of the dark thoughts swirling in his mind, Sunoo tilted his head. “You’re really something special, you know that?” he murmured.
You looked up at him, slightly flustered. “Oh, um—thank you, Sunoo. That means a lot!”
He chuckled softly, but his eyes gleamed with something far more sinister than adoration.
Soon, he thought.
Very soon, you would realize that you were meant to be his greatest prize.
That night, Sunoo could hardly contain himself. He replayed the fan-meeting over and over in his mind—the way your fingers had lingered on his, the way you had giggled at his touch, the way you had said his name so sweetly. It wasn’t just fanservice. No, it couldn’t be. He knew how idols worked, how they smiled for everyone but meant nothing.
But with him… it was different.
It had to be different.
Lying in bed, he scrolled through the pictures taken of you that day, screenshots from fan cams, clips of your soft voice calling him “Sunoo.” His fingers curled around his phone as his breathing grew heavier. His mind was racing, his heart pounding.
You’re too precious for them. Too kind. Too trusting.
Did you even realize how many people were watching you, obsessing over you? How many disgusting fans thought they could have you? How many men fantasized about you, lusted after you?
The thought sent rage surging through his veins. No. No one else could have you. No one else deserved you.
Only him.
And so, Sunoo devised his plan.
—
The next few weeks passed in a blur. Sunoo had connections—being a top idol meant he had access to places others could only dream of. He learned everything. Your schedule, your dorm security, the paths you took home after late-night rehearsals. He even bribed one of your staff members to slip him your personal number, though he never intended to use it. No, he wasn’t some desperate, pathetic fan who would simply text you and hope for your attention.
He was above that.
He was going to take what was his.
And then, the perfect opportunity arose.
A grueling practice schedule had left you exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open as you left the company building late at night. No staff members, no security—just you, heading toward your car alone.
Too easy.
Too perfect.
Sunoo struck quickly. A cloth doused in chloroform, a firm yet gentle hold, and you were unconscious in his arms before you even had a chance to process what was happening.
He held you close for a moment, feeling the warmth of your body, inhaling the faint scent of your perfume. His heart pounded in exhilaration. Finally. Finally, you were his.
Carefully, he carried you into the car he had prepared, laying you down in the backseat. His fingers brushed your cheek as he admired your sleeping face.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft with adoration. “I’m going to take such good care of you.”
—
When you woke up, your head was pounding. Everything was hazy, your body heavy as if weighed down by exhaustion. You tried to move, but your wrists were bound, tied delicately with silk ribbons—soft, but secure.
Panic surged through you. Where were you? What had happened?
Then, a familiar voice hummed softly in the dimly lit room.
“You’re awake,” Sunoo cooed, sitting nearby with an eerily sweet smile. “I was starting to get worried.”
Your breath hitched. Sunoo? What was he doing here? And why—why were you tied up?
“Sunoo…?” Your voice was weak, confused. “W-what’s going on?”
He tilted his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Shhh, don’t be scared. I know things must be overwhelming right now, but trust me—I’m doing this for us.”
Your pulse quickened. For us?
“You work so hard,” he continued, reaching out to brush your hair back gently. “You give so much to your fans. But none of them love you the way I do. None of them understand you the way I do.”
Tears pricked at your eyes as reality set in. This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t some weird prank. This was real.
“Sunoo, please—”
His smile faltered slightly, and for a split second, something dark flickered in his expression.
“Don’t beg,” he whispered, his voice almost hurt. “You don’t need to. I’m going to take care of you. Protect you. You won’t have to exhaust yourself anymore, won’t have to deal with screaming fans or sleepless nights.”
He leaned in, his face mere inches from yours. “You’re mine now.”
Your body trembled as silent tears rolled down your cheeks.
Sunoo simply sighed, wiping them away with his thumb, his expression softening once more.
“You’ll understand soon,” he promised. “You’ll see how much better life is when you belong to me.”
And with that, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, humming the melody of your latest song—a song that, from now on, you would only ever sing for him.
Your body stiffened at the soft press of Sunoo’s lips against your forehead. Every nerve in your body screamed at you to fight, to struggle—but what good would it do? You were bound, trapped in an unfamiliar room with an idol so beloved by the world… yet terrifying in the way his eyes gleamed with pure possession.
Sunoo pulled away, tilting his head as he studied your face, as if searching for something. “Still scared?” he murmured, his fingers trailing gently down your cheek. “I know this is a lot, but you’ll adjust. You’re strong.”
You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “Sunoo… you don’t have to do this,” you whispered, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I—I’ll keep seeing you at fan-meetings, okay? You don’t have to—”
A giggle. Soft, sweet, yet dripping with something sinister.
“Oh, but that’s not enough,” he interrupted, pouting slightly. “Those fan-meetings… they were torture. Having to share you with them. Watching you smile at everyone when I knew deep down you were meant for me.” His eyes darkened. “And then, that moment… when you touched my hand. When you looked at me like I was special.”
His fingers suddenly curled under your chin, lifting your face so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.
“That’s when I knew,” he whispered, a dreamy smile playing on his lips. “You chose me.”
Your breath hitched. “No, Sunoo, that wasn’t—”
His grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you shut up. “Shhh,” he hushed. “I know what you’re thinking. That I’m crazy. That this is wrong.” He sighed dramatically, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “But love isn’t always easy, you know? Sometimes… you have to take what’s yours before the world ruins it.”
Your heartbeat thundered in your ears.
You had to get out.
You had to make him see how wrong this was.
Taking a shaky breath, you tried a different approach. “If you love me,” you said carefully, “then let me go. Love isn’t about trapping someone, Sunoo. It’s about making them happy.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, blinking. Then—
Laughter. Soft at first, then growing into something uncontrollable, a melodic yet eerie sound that sent chills down your spine.
“Oh, you’re so cute,” he giggled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Trying to use idol logic on me. I’ve heard it all before—love and freedom and happiness.” His smile dropped in an instant. “But do you really think you’re happy out there?”
You tensed.
“You barely sleep,” he continued, voice dropping to a whisper. “You push yourself to exhaustion, force yourself to be perfect for an industry that doesn’t care about you.” He leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “But I care. I love you enough to take you away from all that.”
You clenched your fists. “You’re delusional.”
Sunoo didn’t react the way you expected. No anger, no frustration—just a quiet chuckle as he pulled back and cupped your cheek.
“You’re tired,” he sighed, almost sympathetically. “That’s okay. You’ll see the truth soon.”
His fingers trailed down to the silk ribbons around your wrists. With slow, deliberate movements, he untied them, letting them fall loose.
Your breath hitched. Was he… letting you go?
Then—
Soft hands gripped your wrists before you could react, pulling them up to his chest. You could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palms.
“Do you feel that?” he murmured, his eyes searching yours. “That’s for you. It always has been.”
Your stomach twisted in fear.
“Now,” he continued, smiling sweetly, “since you’re free to move… why don’t we start our new life together?”
The implication was clear.
You weren’t free. Not really. He had only untied you because he wanted you to willingly accept this—to accept him.
And that was even more terrifying.
Because Sunoo wasn’t just a yandere idol obsessed with you.
He was patient.
And he would do whatever it took to make you his.
Your hands trembled against Sunoo’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your fingertips. His eyes, warm yet unsettlingly intense, locked onto yours as if he were daring you to pull away.
But you couldn’t. Not yet. Not when you had no idea what he would do next.
Sunoo sighed dreamily, intertwining your fingers with his. “See?” he whispered. “This feels right, doesn’t it?”
You forced yourself to nod, playing along. “Y-Yeah… it’s just… a lot to process.”
His face lit up, as if he were thrilled by your words. “I understand! I really do.” His grip on your hands tightened slightly. “That’s why I’ll give you time. I won’t rush you, love.”
Love.
The word sent ice through your veins.
“But,” he added, tilting his head cutely, “I also know you’ll come to understand me soon enough.”
You swallowed hard, searching for something—anything—that could help you. The room was dimly lit, cozy even, with plush blankets, candles, and even posters of you neatly arranged on the walls. It would have been flattering if it weren’t horrifying.
Think.
How do you escape an obsessed idol who believes he’s saving you?
Sunoo reached for something beside the bed—a tray with a steaming bowl of soup and a glass of water. “You must be starving,” he murmured, picking up the spoon and gently blowing on it. “I made this for you myself. Open up.”
You hesitated, staring at the spoonful of soup he was holding up to your lips.
His eyes darkened slightly. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
Your stomach twisted. You didn’t, of course. But right now, trust was the only thing keeping him calm.
So, you forced yourself to part your lips, allowing him to feed you. The soup was warm, comforting even, but the situation made it impossible to enjoy.
Sunoo smiled in satisfaction. “Good girl.”
You fought the urge to shudder.
As he continued feeding you, an idea formed in your mind.
If Sunoo was truly convinced you’d come to love him, then the best way to gain his trust… was to make him believe it.
So, you forced a small, shy smile. “You’re really… taking care of me.”
His face lit up, pure joy radiating from him. “Of course I am! That’s what love is, after all.”
You nodded slowly. “I just… I think I need time to adjust. Everything happened so fast.”
His fingers traced the edge of the spoon thoughtfully. “I told you, love, I’ll be patient. But…” He leaned in slightly, his gaze piercing. “You won’t try to leave me, will you?”
Your breath caught in your throat.
This was a test.
If you answered wrong, you didn’t know what he would do.
So, you lowered your gaze, feigning hesitation before whispering, “No… I won’t.”
A soft gasp left Sunoo’s lips, his expression melting into pure adoration. “I knew you understood,” he breathed, reaching out to cradle your face.
You held still, heart pounding as his fingers gently traced your skin.
“Tomorrow,” he murmured, “I’ll show you more of our new home. You’ll see how perfect life will be when it’s just us.”
You forced a smile, though your stomach churned in fear.
The next morning, Sunoo woke you with a gentle shake, his face beaming with excitement. “Good morning, love,” he cooed, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Today’s a special day. You get to see our home properly.”
You forced a sleepy smile, hiding the anxiety twisting in your stomach. You had no idea where you were or how far away from anyone who could help, but you had to stay calm. Stay smart.
Sunoo helped you out of bed, guiding you by the hand like a lovesick boyfriend eager to show off his new life with you. As he led you through the house, you couldn’t help but be surprised—it was beautiful.
The walls were painted in soft pastel colors, adorned with framed photos of nature, art, and—you gulped—pictures of you. Some were official posters from your idol group, others were candid shots from fan meetings, and some… some looked like they were taken without you knowing.
“Do you like it?” Sunoo asked eagerly, watching your reaction. “I made sure everything matched both of our aesthetics.”
It was true. The furniture was cozy yet stylish, with plush cushions, soft blankets, and shelves full of cute trinkets. A scent of vanilla and fresh flowers lingered in the air, making the home feel oddly comforting despite the circumstances.
“I…” You hesitated, forcing yourself to nod. “It’s… really nice.”
Sunoo beamed, squeezing your hand. “I knew you’d love it!”
Then, he led you down a hallway and stopped in front of a door. “This,” he said softly, “is my favorite place.”
He pushed the door open, revealing a bedroom that was clearly yours and his.
Your breath caught.
The room was decorated with everything that made your heart flutter—your favorite colors, your favorite plushies, even small details you had only ever mentioned in passing during interviews. The bed was big, layered with soft blankets, and there were fairy lights draped along the walls.
Sunoo pulled you inside, sitting you down on the bed as he knelt in front of you. “This is our room,” he whispered, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Where we’ll sleep together, wake up together, be together.”
Your pulse quickened, but you forced yourself to keep up the act. “It’s… beautiful,” you murmured.
Sunoo’s eyes softened with pure adoration. “I knew you’d think so.”
Then, he stood up, taking your hand once again as he led you to another door. This one, he hesitated before opening. “And this,” he said with a smile, “is where you’ll stay when I’m out.”
Your stomach dropped as he opened the door, revealing a cozy yet unmistakably secure room.
Inside, there was everything you loved—a bookshelf filled with your favorite books, a television set up with all the shows and movies you adored, a vanity with your favorite skincare products, and a plush couch surrounded by pillows and blankets. A small kitchenette was tucked in the corner with snacks and drinks neatly arranged.
It was perfect.
Too perfect.
Your fingers curled into your palm as you realized what this truly was.
A gilded cage.
Sunoo squeezed your hand. “I know it might seem extreme,” he admitted, watching your face carefully. “But I have to keep you safe. The world is cruel, and you’re too precious for it.”
You swallowed hard, glancing toward the door. “And… when you leave?”
Sunoo tilted his head, giving you a sweet yet knowing smile. “The door will be locked, of course.”
Your heart clenched.
“But,” he added, lifting your chin with a finger, “I made sure you’d be comfortable. I love you too much to let you be unhappy, even when I’m gone.”
You nodded slowly, masking the panic beneath your expression.
Because now you knew two things.
1. Sunoo truly believed this was love.
2. If you wanted to escape, it had to be before he locked you inside.
Smiling softly, you looked up at him. “Thank you, Sunoo,” you whispered, forcing warmth into your voice. “For thinking of me.”
His eyes widened slightly, and then—
He melted.
“Oh, love,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. “You’re already starting to understand, aren’t you?”
You rested your head against his shoulder, hiding the fear in your eyes.
You had to escape.
And you had to do it soon.
Sunoo held you close, his arms wrapped around you in a way that felt both comforting and suffocating. You could feel the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he sighed happily.
“You’re already starting to understand,” he murmured, stroking your hair. “I knew you would. You’re so smart, so perfect for me.”
Your pulse pounded in your ears as you forced yourself to relax against him. You had to keep up the act—to make him believe you were slowly accepting this life.
Then, he pulled back slightly, looking down at you with expectant eyes. “But…” His voice was soft, teasing. “A real ‘thank you’ would be nice.”
Your stomach twisted.
Sunoo tilted his head, pouting cutely. “I went through all this trouble to make sure you’re happy, love. I think I deserve a little something in return, don’t you?”
You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. “W-What do you mean?”
His eyes twinkled as he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin. “Just a little kiss,” he whispered. “Nothing too much. Just… something to show me you really mean it.”
Your breath hitched.
Sunoo was testing you.
If you refused, he might start to doubt your act. He might decide you weren’t ready to have this much freedom.
But if you did what he wanted…
Could you really go through with it?
His fingers slid down to your chin, tilting your face up toward his. “I’ll wait,” he hummed, his voice light and playful, but there was something dark beneath it—something possessive.
Think, think.
Slowly, you forced a small smile. “You’re right,” you murmured, making your voice as soft and sweet as you could. “You do deserve a thank you.”
Sunoo’s breath hitched slightly, his eyes widening in surprise.
Then, ever so gently, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
His grip on your chin tightened just slightly, his body going completely still. The moment stretched on, thick with tension.
Then—
A shuddered breath left his lips. His free hand came up to cover the spot where you had kissed him, his cheeks dusted pink, his eyes wide with something that looked dangerously close to obsession.
“…Oh,” he whispered, almost in disbelief. “You really…”
His fingers trembled slightly as he touched his cheek, as if trying to make sure the moment had really happened. Then, slowly, he looked back at you, his lips parting in a dreamy, lovesick smile.
“My love,” he breathed. “You really love me, don’t you?”
You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest.
Sunoo’s hands slid down to grip your waist, pulling you closer. “Say it,” he whispered. “Say you love me.”
Your throat went dry.
He was waiting.
Expecting.
And if you didn’t say it—
You looked up into his wide, adoring eyes, your stomach twisting.
“I… I love you, Sunoo.”
The second the words left your lips, a shaky gasp escaped him.
Then—before you could react—his arms wrapped around you tight, pulling you flush against his chest.
“I knew it,” he whispered, almost delirious with joy. “I knew it.”
Your body was stiff in his embrace, but you forced yourself to relax.
Because now, Sunoo trusted you.
Now, he believed you wanted to stay.
And now, you had a real chance to escape.
The days that followed were surreal. Living with Sunoo was like walking a tightrope—you had to smile, nod, and act like you were slowly falling in love with him, all while searching for an opportunity to escape.
Sunoo, in return, treated you like a delicate doll, someone precious and irreplaceable. He made sure you were always comfortable, always taken care of.
Morning Routine
Each morning, he would wake you with a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good morning, love,” he’d coo, stroking your hair. “Did you sleep well?”
You’d nod sleepily, knowing he expected you to be soft and affectionate with him now. “Mhm… thanks to you.”
His face would light up at that, his arms wrapping around you. “Of course! I’ll always take care of you.”
Breakfast was always homemade. Sunoo was a perfectionist when it came to taking care of you—he made sure your meals were balanced, that you had your favorite drinks, that everything was plated beautifully.
Sometimes, he’d insist on feeding you. “Just one bite,” he’d plead, pouting in that way that made it impossible to say no.
So, you’d let him. Because saying yes kept him happy. Saying yes meant he wouldn’t suspect anything.
Daytime Routine
While Sunoo was home, he wanted you by his side at all times.
“Where are you going?” he’d ask if you so much as stood up without him.
“The bathroom,” you’d answer with a small smile.
He’d hum in understanding but still watch you until you returned, as if afraid you’d disappear the moment he looked away.
When he had a free day, he spent every second with you—watching movies, playing games, even singing duets with you. Those moments were the hardest because, if this were a normal relationship, it would’ve been… nice.
But it wasn’t.
Because you weren’t free.
And when Sunoo did have schedules? That’s when things changed.
The Locked Room
Before he left, Sunoo would guide you gently into your room—the one filled with all your favorite things.
“I’ll be back soon, love,” he’d murmur, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “You’ll be safe here, okay?”
And then—
Click.
The door would lock behind him.
No matter how beautiful the room was, how thoughtful the details were, the moment you heard that lock, it became a prison.
You spent those hours testing the windows (sealed shut), looking for anything you could use to fight back (nothing sharp, nothing heavy enough to break the door), and waiting.
Waiting for your chance.
Nighttime Routine
When Sunoo returned home, he always looked exhausted—but the second he saw you, his face would light up as if you were the only thing keeping him going.
“I missed you,” he’d sigh, wrapping his arms around you. “Did you miss me too?”
“Yes,” you’d whisper, because that’s what he needed to hear.
He’d smile, pleased, before pulling you into the bedroom—the one you both shared.
At first, you had expected him to push boundaries, to force something more than hugs and forehead kisses. But he didn’t.
He was patient.
He’d simply hold you close in bed, your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around you in a way that made escape impossible.
“I love you so much,” he’d whisper into your ear. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
And every night, you’d lie awake long after he fell asleep, staring at the ceiling.
Planning.
Waiting.
Because sooner or later, you would escape.
And you had to do it before Sunoo’s patience ran out.
The days continued, blending into a carefully crafted routine of soft smiles, gentle words, and stolen moments where you planned your escape.
But there was something else—something unexpected.
You had started to learn how to control Sunoo.
It wasn’t just about keeping him happy anymore. It was about making him trust you so completely that he wouldn’t see it coming when you finally made your move.
And so, you started giving him more of what he wanted.
More affection. More warmth. More love.
Being Sweet to Him
You started to touch him more—reaching for his hand first, leaning into his hugs, playing with his fingers absentmindedly as if you truly enjoyed his presence.
At first, Sunoo had been shocked, his wide eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
And when he found none—when you smiled at him with something that looked like real adoration—his expression had crumbled into something soft and needy.
“You’re finally starting to love me,” he whispered one night, holding your hand against his chest. “Aren’t you?”
You had gazed at him through your lashes, tilting your head as if shy about admitting it.
“I think… maybe,” you murmured.
And that was all he needed to hear.
Sunoo had practically melted, pulling you into a tight embrace. “I knew it,” he whispered, voice trembling with happiness. “I knew you would.”
After that, things became easier.
He let you move around the house more freely, no longer questioning your every step. He started leaving you alone for short periods without locking the door, trusting that you wouldn’t run.
And that was when you started writing the song.
The Song for Sunoo
At first, it had been something to keep your mind occupied—lyrics scribbled in the small notebook he had given you, melody humming in your throat late at night when he was asleep beside you.
But as the days passed, the song became something more.
It was a lullaby. A love song. Something for him.
The lyrics were delicate, filled with words he wanted to hear. About how you had been lost before him. How he was the one who made you feel safe. How you were falling for him, bit by bit, day by day.
Every time you worked on it, your heart pounded. Because this—this was the final piece.
If you played it for him at the right moment…
If you got him so wrapped up in his emotions that he fully let his guard down…
That could be your chance.
And so, you waited.
Carefully. Patiently.
For the perfect moment to break free.
The days passed, and by now, you knew Sunoo’s routine like the back of your hand.
You knew what time he left for work, how long he was usually gone, and—most importantly—when he felt comfortable enough to leave the house unlocked.
But more than that, you had perfected your role.
You weren’t just playing along anymore—you were making Sunoo believe you belonged here.
And it was working.
The Bouquet
One evening, Sunoo came home with something different.
A massive bouquet of pastel roses, baby’s breath, and delicate lilies—each flower carefully arranged in soft, romantic colors.
Your breath caught in genuine surprise as he stepped through the door, holding it out to you with an excited, almost shy expression.
“For you,” he murmured, watching your reaction closely. “I saw them and thought of you.”
For a moment, you just stared, touched despite yourself.
Because this—this was the Sunoo the world saw. Sweet, thoughtful, eager to make you smile.
And if you had met him under normal circumstances, maybe you would’ve fallen for him.
But this wasn’t love. This was possession.
Still, you let your face soften, taking the bouquet carefully. “Sunoo… they’re beautiful.”
His breath hitched. “You like them?”
You looked up at him, smiling warmly. “I love them.”
His entire expression melted into something so soft, so full of devotion that it almost scared you. “I just wanted to make you happy,” he murmured, stepping closer, his hands brushing against your waist. “I want to give you everything.”
You looked down at the flowers, twirling one gently between your fingers before an idea struck you.
This is the perfect moment to push things further.
So, you lifted your gaze and bit your lip as if hesitant. “…If you really want to give me something,” you murmured, “can I ask for something small?”
You hesitated, playing the part perfectly. “I… want to cook dinner for you.”
His brows lifted in surprise. “Dinner?”
You nodded, clutching the bouquet a little tighter. “You always take care of me. I want to take care of you too.”
Sunoo exhaled sharply, as if your words had completely overwhelmed him.
Then—
“Of course,” he breathed, reaching up to cradle your face. “Of course, love. You can cook anything you want.”
You smiled sweetly, leaning into his touch.
Because now, you had exactly what you needed.
That night, after you asked to cook dinner, Sunoo could barely contain his excitement.
His eyes sparkled as he tilted his head, brushing his fingers along your wrist. “What do you want to make, love?”
You forced a soft smile, pretending to be completely at ease. “Something special,” you hummed. “Maybe a dish from home? Something warm and comforting.”
Sunoo practically beamed. “Then I’ll get all the ingredients for you!”
Your heart clenched slightly.
Because even though you had expected it, hearing him confirm that you wouldn’t be the one shopping still stung.
It was another reminder that—no matter how sweet and loving he acted—you weren’t free.
But you didn’t let it show.
Instead, you giggled lightly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re too good to me, Sunoo.”
His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at you, completely entranced. Then, his fingers curled around yours, holding your hand tightly.
“I’d do anything for you.”
You only smiled in response, even as a cold shiver ran down your spine.
While Sunoo Was Gone
The moment he left for the store, you let out a shaky breath.
This was the first time in a while that you were completely alone in the house—outside of the locked room.
You could try to run.
You could grab something—anything—and smash a window.
But no.
You had already decided.
You had to be smart.
If you ran now, Sunoo would find you. He was obsessed, possessive, and most importantly—he was careful. He would have prepared for that possibility.
But if you waited… if you made him let his guard down completely…
That was when you would win.
So, instead, you spent the time setting the dining table.
You found the cutest decorations Sunoo had around the house, setting up soft candles, pastel tableware, and even folding the napkins into little hearts.
It had to be perfect.
Because tonight was the night you would seal his trust.
Cooking Together
When Sunoo returned, he carried the grocery bags like they were gifts from heaven.
“I got everything you wanted!” he said happily, placing them on the counter.
You clapped your hands together, smiling warmly. “Thank you, Sunoo! Now, let’s make something delicious together.”
His eyes widened slightly. “Together?”
You nodded, giggling softly. “Of course! I want you to taste it while I cook. You are the guest of honor, after all.”
Sunoo looked so utterly lovesick at that moment that it almost hurt to look at him.
“Okay,” he whispered, stepping closer, as if he was already intoxicated by the idea of cooking with you.
As you started preparing the food, you made sure to involve him in little ways—asking him to hand you ingredients, letting him stir the sauce, and, most importantly—letting him taste.
At one point, you scooped up a spoonful of the dish and held it up to him. “Here,” you said sweetly. “Try it.”
Sunoo’s lips parted slightly, eyes locked onto you. Slowly, he leaned in, letting you feed him directly from the spoon.
The second the flavor hit his tongue, he let out a pleased little hum. “Mmh… this is amazing.”
You giggled, wiping a stray drop from the corner of his lips with your thumb. “I’m glad you like it.”
Sunoo’s breath hitched.
And in that moment, you knew—
He was falling even deeper.
The Dinner & The Song
Once everything was ready, you brought the food to the table, watching as Sunoo’s eyes widened at the beautiful setup.
“You did all this?” he asked softly, looking at the candles, the delicate decorations, the effort you had put in.
You nodded, smiling at him as you pulled out his chair. “Only the best for you.”
Sunoo practically melted, sitting down as he watched you with pure adoration.
As you both ate, you kept the conversation light, giggling at his jokes, pretending to be so happy that he was here with you.
Then, once the plates were mostly empty, you took a breath and looked at him.
“…Sunoo?”
He immediately straightened. “Yes, love?”
You hesitated, biting your lip shyly. “I… I wrote something for you.”
Sunoo’s eyes widened, his entire body freezing. “You… what?”
You fidgeted slightly. “I wrote a song. For you.”
For a moment, he didn’t move.
Then—slowly—his hands clenched into fists on his lap.
“Can I hear it?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded. “But… I need a guitar.”
Sunoo shot up from his chair so fast that you barely had time to react. “Wait here,” he said breathlessly, rushing off without another word.
A few minutes later, he returned with the most beautiful acoustic guitar you had ever seen.
“I bought this a while ago,” he admitted, cheeks dusted pink. “I thought… maybe one day you’d want to sing for me.”
Your stomach twisted.
Because he had been planning for everything.
But you forced your emotions down, instead reaching for the guitar with wide, sparkling eyes. “It’s perfect, Sunoo.”
And then, with one last breath—
You started playing.
The melody was soft, delicate, and filled with every word he wanted to hear.
How he had saved you. How you had been lost before him. How, slowly, day by day, you were falling for him.
You kept your voice gentle, your eyes meeting his at just the right moments, as if you truly meant every word.
And as the song went on, you watched Sunoo’s entire body shatter.
His lips trembled. His eyes glistened. His fingers twitched as if aching to reach for you.
And by the time you strummed the final note—
A single tear slipped down his cheek.
You set the guitar down, smiling up at him sweetly. “Do you like it?”
Sunoo let out a shaky breath, hands coming up to cradle his face as if overwhelmed.
Then—
He let out a small, breathless laugh.
“I love you,” he whispered.
And this time—
He believed you loved him too.
The days that followed your intimate dinner were clouded with the warmth of Sunoo’s adoration. He couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop holding you close. The bond between you two had solidified in a way that you knew had him completely entranced. He would text you throughout the day just to check in, bringing you small gifts and surprising you with sweet gestures that made it clear how much he valued your relationship.
But as much as you appreciated his love—his care—every moment of tenderness served a purpose. You were building trust, drawing him deeper into your web, all while keeping your emotions in check.
Cuddles and Kisses
The evenings were always the most intimate. After dinner, you two would sit on the couch, his arms draped around you as you leaned against him, basking in the safety he offered. Sunoo was affectionate to the point of clinginess, but you didn’t mind; it helped you play your role. He would stroke your hair, press soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, and sometimes, even on your lips. His kisses were slow and sweet, each one a reaffirmation of his obsession.
“Stay with me forever,” he’d murmur, his voice filled with sincerity. “I don’t want anyone else.”
You would smile, a gentle nod, and say something reassuring to keep him happy. “Of course, Sunoo. I want to stay with you forever too.”
It was a delicate balance of making him feel loved while keeping the ultimate goal of escape in mind. The tension between being trapped and pretending you were slowly falling for him was growing harder to control. But every kiss, every sweet word, every moment of intimacy—it was all part of the plan.
A Proposal of “Realness”
A few days later, something unexpected happened. Sunoo had just returned from one of his busy schedules. As soon as he entered the door, his tired expression softened the moment he saw you, sitting casually on the couch, playing with your phone.
He walked over to you, slipping his arms around you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I missed you,” he whispered. “I wish I could spend more time with you.”
You turned in his embrace to face him, your heart skipping a beat. His gaze was so intense, his need for you so palpable. “I missed you too, Sunoo,” you said softly, allowing him to pull you in for a deep kiss.
As he pulled away, still holding you close, he smiled at you, his eyes glimmering with love. “I’ve been thinking…” he began, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “We’ve been together for so long now, and I know we’re happy. I want to make our relationship official… to the world.”
Your heart skipped a beat. You had anticipated this moment eventually—him wanting to share your bond publicly, to claim you as his for everyone to see.
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” you said, keeping your voice soft but filled with sincerity.
Sunoo’s eyes widened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze. “Really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You want that too?”
You nodded, your smile sweet and gentle, but laced with a hint of something darker. “I want the world to see us together, Sunoo. I want them to know how much we love each other.”
He pulled you closer, kissing your forehead tenderly. “I can’t wait for that day,” he said with a soft sigh, as if he could already picture it in his mind. “We’ll make it official, and everyone will see how perfect we are for each other.”
But then you added, with a carefully measured amount of emotion, “And… I want to produce that song I wrote for you. I think it’s the perfect way to show our love to the world. It’s a symbol of everything we’ve been through together.”
Sunoo’s eyes brightened, and he beamed at you. “You want to release it?” he asked, his voice filled with wonder and pride.
“Yes,” you replied. “Let’s make it our song, Sunoo. A song for us.”
His grin grew wider, and without missing a beat, he pressed another passionate kiss to your lips. “It’ll be perfect. I want to make your dream come true, love. I want to show the world how special we are.”
Your heart sank for a second, but you pushed the feeling aside. You had him right where you wanted him. The world would believe the facade, and soon—when the moment was perfect—you would break free.
But for now, you had him exactly where you needed him.
You would make him trust you even more, and when the time was right, you’d escape.
And in the meantime, you’d make that song—a beautiful, love-filled track that would bind him to you even tighter.u
You walked into the agency’s office with a sense of dread slowly creeping over you. It had been days since you’d made your decision to speak up about Sunoo’s obsession, and the weight of it was starting to feel almost unbearable. You had been too controlled in this situation, too careful. But now, you were taking the step to address it head-on.
You needed to talk to them, to make them understand what was happening behind the scenes, to make them see that what was going on with Sunoo wasn’t just a normal relationship—it was something dangerous, something that would eventually tear you apart.
You had planned to tell them everything—how Sunoo had become obsessed, how his affection felt more like control than love, how his actions had begun to confine you in ways that were no longer just concerning, but terrifying. But, of course, you knew that the agency had their own agenda. Their reputation, their brand—those were the things that came first, not your well-being.
The Meeting Begins
The conference room was sterile and cold, the bright lights hanging above casting shadows that felt much more ominous than comforting. Your manager sat at the head of the table, his usual stern expression only making the situation feel even more tense. Two other executives sat beside him, watching you expectantly.
“You wanted to speak with us?” Your manager’s voice was sharp, professional. There was a hint of curiosity in his tone, but also something else—a small amount of impatience, like this was something he didn’t particularly want to deal with.
You took a breath, trying to steady your nerves. You had to be strong for this. “Yes,” you started. “It’s about Sunoo—our relationship.”
At the mention of Sunoo’s name, you saw their expressions shift slightly. The mention of a relationship involving a popular idol like him was certainly bound to get their attention. Your manager leaned forward, tapping his fingers against the table, the others remaining silent as they waited for you to continue.
“He’s—he’s not just my boyfriend,” you began, choosing your words carefully. “It’s been becoming something much more than that. He’s obsessed, controlling, and it’s been affecting everything. My freedom, my peace of mind. I don’t know what to do anymore. I think… I think I need help.”
The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. You met the eyes of your manager, but his face remained unreadable. After a long moment, he cleared his throat and spoke again, this time his voice colder.
“We’re aware of your… relationship with Sunoo.” He said the word ‘relationship’ with an air of detachment, as if he were talking about something much more clinical than a personal connection. “And while we understand your concerns, there are a few things you should keep in mind.”
You felt your heart race, a sinking feeling in your stomach.
“The relationship is good for your image. It boosts your visibility—both for you and for Sunoo. We’ve seen how the fans respond to this,” he continued. “It’s creating buzz, and buzz means attention. Attention means popularity.”
You clenched your fists in your lap. “But it’s not healthy,” you protested, your voice shaking. “He’s controlling me. He’s obsessed with me. I can’t even leave the house without him being right there. It’s… it’s not right.”
Your manager didn’t flinch. “You’re an idol, and idols make sacrifices. The public image is important. The fans love seeing a connection like this, and frankly, it’s doing wonders for your career. This type of publicity won’t last forever, but it’s building your reputation. Whether you like it or not, the relationship with Sunoo is an asset.”
One of the executives sitting to the side chimed in, “And let’s not forget that his status is also helping you. You’re in a position that most idols dream of. People are paying attention to you, and they’ll continue to do so as long as you stay with him. The fact that this relationship is generating so much interest? That’s a good thing, not something you should be upset about.”
You felt the room closing in, your body stiffening with anger and frustration. This wasn’t about your happiness. This wasn’t about your safety. It was about the agency’s profit, their control, their image. They didn’t care about you.
“You don’t get it,” you said, your voice now more forceful, though it trembled slightly with emotion. “This isn’t real. Sunoo… he’s not just my boyfriend. He’s controlling every aspect of my life. I need to get out of this, but you’re telling me that the only thing that matters is the image we’re presenting to the public.”
Another executive’s voice cut in, more insistent. “Exactly. Your image is everything. You don’t have the luxury of walking away from this. If you stay, this could be your opportunity to rise higher. If you leave…”
They let the words hang in the air, their meaning clear. If you walked away, you were out.
