Kpop Sickfics and Hurtfics Part 2

Nightmares (Yeonjun)

The lights had barely dimmed when Yeonjun’s mind was still spinning from the high of the performance. He stood backstage for a moment, heart racing, trying to let the residual excitement ebb away. His skin was still warm from the stage lights, and he could hear the distant echo of fans cheering, their energy still vibrating through the air. The applause was still ringing in his ears, and though his muscles ached from the demanding choreography, his spirit soared.

Yet, despite all the adrenaline pulsing through his veins, Yeonjun felt the familiar pull of exhaustion settling in his chest, a feeling that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second. His body yearned for rest, but his mind refused to quiet. He tried to ignore the fatigue and pushed himself through the motions, gathering his belongings before heading back to the tour bus. He could hear the laughter of the other members around him, their voices a comforting hum in the background.

But as the others joked and talked about their post-performance plans, Yeonjun felt a subtle sense of unease—something was off, though he couldn’t quite place it. A shiver ran down his spine. It wasn’t the usual post-concert exhaustion; this felt different. It wasn’t just physical; it was as if his very soul was unsettled. He glanced at the window, noticing the stillness of the night outside. There were no stars, only an overcast sky, as if the world itself had pressed the pause button.

“Hyung, you okay?” Beomgyu asked, his voice breaking through Yeonjun’s thoughts.

“Yeah, just tired,” Yeonjun replied, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry about me.”

The younger boy gave him a skeptical look but let it go, and Yeonjun appreciated it. He didn’t want to burden the others, not with everything they were juggling. But the feeling wouldn’t leave him. There was a weight pressing down on his chest, not physical, but emotional. It wasn’t just the exhaustion from the performance—it was something deeper, something he couldn’t explain.

Once back at the hotel, Yeonjun retreated to his room. He dropped his things near the door, too exhausted to bother with organizing. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a bedside lamp. The curtains were drawn, and the bed looked almost inviting, though Yeonjun had a feeling he wouldn’t find rest so easily.

He tried to push the unease aside and climbed into bed. The cool sheets felt good against his warm skin, but his body was restless. As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts drifted. He thought about the concert, the fans, his members. It had been a successful night, but the tension remained, gnawing at the back of his mind. The exhaustion was heavy in his limbs, but his mind was still alert, buzzing with a quiet hum of anxiety.

He let his eyes flutter shut, trying to settle into sleep. But the moment he did, the room felt different. The shadows seemed to stretch across the corners of the room, bending in unnatural ways. Yeonjun opened his eyes, but there was nothing. The room was exactly as it had been.

The feeling of unease only grew stronger.

A cold chill brushed against his neck, causing his muscles to tighten involuntarily. He shivered. It wasn’t the air conditioning; it felt like something else, something unsettling. Yeonjun dismissed it as just the strange sensation that came with being in an unfamiliar place. But still, he couldn’t shake the feeling. He rolled over in bed, trying to get comfortable. His body ached from the performance, his bones heavy with the weight of exhaustion. His eyelids were growing heavier, his mind drifting toward the familiar pull of sleep.

As he began to drift into the haze of slumber, he felt it—a sudden pressure on his chest. A weight, like something heavy was pressing down on him, pinning him to the bed. Yeonjun gasped, his eyes snapping open. His heart pounded in his chest, and he tried to move, to sit up, but his body refused to obey. His arms felt stiff, unresponsive, like they were made of stone. His legs were trapped beneath an invisible force, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as he struggled to inhale.