#✘ 【 wayv angst 】

[chenlesfavorite]

NIGHT RIDER, zhong chenle

working night shifts 24/7 at the convenience store while also supporting your boyfriend’s obsession with watching motorcyclists race is not easy, but little did you know that one of the bikers that he loves soon gets involved with you.

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— pairing: motorcyclist!chenle x fem!reader

— genres: social media au (smau), written, slowburn, angsty-ish, fluff, strangers to enemies to lovers (except they're not really enemies.. they just can't stand each other)

— extra: y/n is dating jaehyun (from boynextdoor) but they break up, jaehyun is kinda toxic, chenle is a lil shithead, probably inaccurate descriptions of motorcycle racing, y/n and chenle are crackheads when together

— warnings: lots of death jokes, profanity, everything in this story is pure fiction and not an actual depiction of how they act!!

— playlist: Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys | devil in a red dress - EIGHTYEIGHTWAV | eyes don't lie - Isabel LaRosa | HEARTBEAT - Isabel LaRosa | COLD BLOODED - Chris Grey | Rude Boy - Rihanna | OHMAMI - Chase Atlantic, Maggie Lindemann | Te Quiero - KISS OF LIFE

— authors note: my 2nd smau!! this one will be pretty different from got my ion you and hopefully better 🤭 i’m super excited for this one ngl..

— status: finished

— taglist: closed

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profiles 1 | profiles 2

1. fuckass job and bf worries

2. 40 dollars?!

3. kicked out (half smau/half written)

4. easy forgiveness

5. victim of bad boyfriendism

6. where’s the apology?

7. a fool in love

8. he’s a sim now!

9. scary stares

10. surprise dinner (fully written)

11. sensing something... ah yes, jaemrina

12. the long awaited breakup

13. living life to the fullest and fuck chenle!

14. or maybe… don’t fuck chenle?

15. bad energy and mewing

16. the witch is coming

17. good job, genius!

18. the race (fully written)

19. nightmare wishes

20. is it the end of the world?

21. apologies are in order… oh and you’re not that bad

22. single and ready to mingle

23. yuta, the rizzler

24. yes, a date is happening!

25. stood up (half smau/half written)

26. we’ll forget about it… right? (half smau/half written)

27. hooked by why don’t we vibes

28. prince sugarplums the 5th

29. she’s not my lovergirl! / he’s not my man!

30. who want backshots?

31. his true feelings (half smau/half written)

32. send help… or maybe don’t?

33. ho is u coo?

34. find her asap

35. king of racing (fully written)

36. nothing more than a bad decision

37. no deep meaning behind it

38. oddly specific lyrics

39. jaemrina sailed!

40. talk to me, please

41. hate you & miss you

42. mission get cheny/n to make up

43. mission accomplished (fully written)

44. our sims are getting married 100%

45. my angel

— end —

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[10byten]

Last night, I imagined Jaehyun telling everyone just how deeply in love he is with his girlfriend. The way he’d talk about what makes her so special in his eyes, how she’s this perfect mix of chaos and calm that he can’t get enough of. How she’s not just someone he loves—she’s the reason everything makes sense. And that’s it. Just Jaehyun, utterly smitten, trying to put into words what feels impossible to explain.

Jaehyun finally told the guys about you. The way you live in his head, rent-free. The way everything feels a little too quiet when you’re not there. He tried to keep you to himself, but he couldn’t anymore—not when you’re all he thinks about.

-

“Wait, can you say that again?” Mark’s eyes widen like a cartoon character caught mid-thought. The boys are all gathered around the living room table.

Jaehyun had called what they jokingly refer to as an “emergency assembly” to drop the bombshell: there’s someone in his life now, and he’s planning to move in with them. It’s time, apparently, to finally introduce them to his friends.

“I mean, I don’t know, you’ve been hyping this girl up for so long, and we still haven’t seen her. At this point, I’m starting to think she’s a figment of your imagination,” Johnny teases, leaning back in his chair.

“Ha. Ha.” Jaehyun deadpans, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I know I’ve been talking about her for a while, and yeah, none of you have met her yet.”

“And we don’t want to meet her,” Jungwoo says, dramatically crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

“Don’t listen to him, hyung. We’re dying to meet your ghost girlfriend. Like, is this some ‘Ghost’ movie situation where only you can see her, or is she gonna appear if we summon her with a medium?”

Jaehyun throws a pillow straight at his younger friend’s face.

“She’s real,” he insists, his voice softer near the end as if embarrassed. “I just... didn’t want to share her. I wanted to keep her to myself for a while.”

“Oh, you were scared we’d steal your girl, huh, Jung?” Doyoung smirks.

Jaehyun snorts, shaking his head with a calm confidence. “Not a chance, Kim. She’s not into innocent little boys like you.”

Doyoung pulls a face, his mock outrage making everyone laugh.

“Well, I’m happy for you, man,” Taeyong says sincerely. “We’re all excited to meet her.”

“So, tell us—what’s so amazing about her?” Haechan leans forward, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

Jaehyun’s gaze drops to the table, a thoughtful look washing over his face. Then his eyes light up, and a soft smile stretches across his lips.

“She has this... effect on me. When she’s not around, it’s like this itch I can’t scratch, and nothing feels right until she’s back. She’s got this way of making everything in my life just... easier. She makes me feel like even the stuff that doesn’t make sense is still okay, like it all fits somehow. Sometimes, it feels like she controls the weather—my weather—and I think maybe she does. At least in my world.”

He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy laugh. “Honestly, even I start to wonder if she’s a mirage. She must be made of some kind of magic, though, right? Because who else could do that to someone? Every time I’m with her, I feel a little more drunk on her. It’s weird, but I finally get that saying about having someone under your skin.”

The room falls silent. The guys are all staring at him, wide-eyed and stunned.

“And of course,” Jaehyun adds with a sheepish grin, “she’s gorgeous, sweet, sexy, brilliant, and funny.”

Haechan is the first to recover. “Hold up—what happened to the emotionally unavailable, zero-feelings Jaehyun we know? This guy’s a clone. We need to file a missing person report.”

“Shut up, idiot. It’s called being in love,” Yuta says, rolling his eyes. “You might figure that out one day if your brain ever grows up.”

“I know this doesn’t sound like me, but—”

“But it proves you’re really in love,” Yuta cuts in.

Jaehyun blushes and nods, unable to hide his smile.

“So, when do we get to meet this ‘delicious creature’ of yours?” Johnny asks, grinning like he’s not about to let it go.

-

“Hey, love. Where are you?”

You slip off your shoes the moment you walk into the apartment, already eager to see him. When Jaehyun spots you, his face lights up, and the book he was holding is instantly forgotten as he crosses the room to pull you into his arms. He lifts you slightly, and you laugh, wrapping your arms around him.

“Hello, love of my life.”

“Hello, you.” You kiss him softly.

“How was your day?” he asks, just like he always does.

“Intense. And yours?” you murmur, your fingers threading through his hair.

“Long without you. Fun with the guys,” he says, stealing a quick kiss.

“Oh yeah? What did you guys do?”

He looks at you deeply, his eyes full of warmth. “Talked. About stuff. About you.”

You tilt your head, feeling a mix of flattery and slight embarrassment.

“They’re coming for dinner tomorrow,” he says casually, brushing his lips against your cheek. “To finally meet you. Is that okay?”

“I’m okay with anything that involves you or the people you care about,” you reply between kisses.

Jaehyun groans softly against your lips. “You have to be unreal. Always saying the perfect thing.”

“Then I guess this is one beautiful illusion we’re living together.”

“It definitely is. babe”

-

Part 2

[keehomania]

mark + big tits!reader i feel like mark would go crazy over big tits 🤭🤭

mark is a boob guy he told me himself!

MARK LEE really did love you with his entire heart. he did everything a good boyfriend was supposed to do; he made you laugh, he treated you to brunch and dinner, he spoiled you whenever he got the chance, he made you his muse for his music, and he was never afraid to show his love openly. you were just as good to him; you laughed at all his terrible jokes, you cooked for him, made sure he felt safe enough to open up to you, and consoled him whenever he did open up. you had both steadied a bridge and crossed it without any problems.

almost, actually. see, mark had an issue of his own. unbeknownst to you, he had been battling some thoughts of his own that, for the first time in forever, he was too scared to share with you. it had to do with the way your tits were outlined and accentuated, no matter what you wore. the first time he took notice of it was when you had gone out to lunch with him and his friends. he was aware you were blessed with a bigger chest, but he really did his best to look anywhere else but there. it wasn’t until he caught jaehyun taking peeks, his gaze lingering longer than necessary on the top of your cleavage. you were oblivious, but not mark. ever since then, it was a chore to focus on anything else.

you didn’t bother dressing modestly around the house, why would you? you sported a pair of shorts and a loose, short tank top as you cooked and vacuumed. mark was sprawled out on the sofa, his eyes focused on the television, though he really didn't care for whatever shitty soap opera was currently on. it wasn’t until you came by the table to clean up, guiding the vacuum across the floor as you did so. mark couldn’t peel his eyes off you, his gaze glued to you as you bent over to reach every crack and crevice. his breath hitched in his throat as the straps of your top spilled down your shoulders, revealing a good half of your bare, huge tits. they moved with every persistent nudge of yours as you continued to work, bending down further to reach the corners. as you did so, your top went with you, spilling further down your shoulders until your nipples were peaking, the mounds of flesh now completely visible to mark.

he couldn’t ignore the way his dick hardened in his shorts, and he was completely sure you would notice and think of him as the world’s biggest creep, but he couldn’t control himself. all he wanted to do was turn the fucking vacuum off and pin you to the couch, make an even bigger mess all over your tits, than the one you were currently cleaning. you had straightened yourself and met his eyes with an oblivious smile. turning the vacuum off, you asked him sweetly, “what’s wrong, baby? everything okay?”

something inside him had overgrown the shame he had been nurturing, something dark that had to do with the ache in his cock and the sudden seriousness in his eyes. “come here,” he said, his tone low and steady. your smile faltered, thinking you had done something to piss him off, but you knew better than to question him when he seemed so serious. “what’s wrong?” you asked with a frown as you reached his spot on the sofa, towering over him as he straightened his back.

he didn’t say anything immediately, he just spread his legs out and leaned back. you didn’t catch his drift until your gaze followed his movements, stopping upin reaching the very evident tent in his shorts, resting against his thigh. you weren’t too sure what had done it for him, but you didn’t care. you had done something to make him horny and the raw sight of him so needy went past your eyes and straight to your core.

“come here,” he repeated, his voice just as low. he gestured towards his lap, patting his bare thighs for you to make yourself comfortable. with shaky legs, you obliged, planting your palms on his shoulders and letting him wrap his arms around your bare waist to adjust you some more. you felt it the second you sat down, the weight of his hard cock pressing into your shorts. no matter how clothed you were, you felt every bit of the hardness resting against your clit.

your fingers trembled around his shoulders, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to keep yourself fron reacting just yet. “you feel that?” he purred, his hungry eyes boring into yours. “you feel how hard you’re making me?” you could only nod quietly, trying hard to fight back against the warmth that soread through your panties, dampening them just enough for mark to notice, a smirk gracing his lips. you had never seen him so focused, so serious. the sheer weight of his gaze mixed with the way he traced circles on your hips was enough to break you.

“can you do something for me?” he asked, his voice slightly softer than before. you nodded in response. of course, you thought, anything for him. “take your top off for me, yeah?”

the request caught you completely off guard. there was nothing strange about it, but you had expected something more demanding. to suck his dick, get him off, or even get straight to fucking, but mark wasn’t like that. you knew better, so you obliged, pulling up the hem of your tank top and sliding it over your arms as he watched you, his gaze content and sinful. you tossed the top aside, leaning back as you allowed him to take you in with his eyes, giving him exactly what he wanted. you felt embarrassed, your elbows coming up to cover yourself, but mark was faster than you.

his hands wrapped themselves around your wrists, pulling your arms away from your chest. “don't even think about it,” he murmured, the tone of his voice enough for your arms to drop. you studied the way his eyes lit up at the sight of your bare tits, your nipples hardening under the weight of his gaze.

“i really tried to control myself, i really did,” he admitted softly. as he did so, he pulled you in closer, a gasp passing your lips as he pushed your hair to one side, giving him complete access to your neck. you arched into the feeling of his lips grazing your skin, teeth sinking into the flesh only for his tongue to caress the same spot seconds later. your tits, plump and heavy, grazed his forearms you did so. “but i can’t anymore, i’m really sorry.” you gasped as his lips travelled south, his tongue dancing over your collarbone, tinged with sweat and perfume.

“you should’ve just—fuck, told me,” you rasped out through a moan as he continued. you were so unaware of his hidden infatuation and, in fact, displeased that he hadn’t brought it up sooner. his hands attached themselves to your tits, a soft moan of relief passing his lips as he kneaded the flesh of your tits. “told you what?” he taunted as he brought his lips down around one of your nipples. “that i can’t get enough of your boobs, is that it?”

you were too caught up in the feeling of it to respond, your only reply a soft, strangled moan as your fingers tugged at his hair, bringing him further into the valley of your tits before pushing them together around his nose. he moaned, taking in the sweet scent as he probed at the thick flesh, tugging and squeezing the mounds around his face as his tongue explored the surface. “so fucking big,” he rasped as he lifted his head ever so slightly, enough for you to see the drool that glistened on his chin, before coming back down with a shake of his head. “they’re so fucking big.”

spit coated your boobs as he took one into his mouth, even though he knew he couldn't fit it all in, his other hand groping your other boob as tears filled your eyes. it had to have been some sick combination of pleasure and embarrassment, pure heat engulfing your cunt through your shorts as he sucked on your tit. he looked up at you, his eyes rimmed with hunger as he practically ate away at your boob. “get me off with them, yeah? that okay?” the request was enough to make you tremble, barely able to nod as the thought of him, so desperate and needy, fucking your tits raw clouded your mind.

you watched as he pulled his shorts down, his hard cock springing free from his boxers. it was already glistening with precum, and he didn’t even bother to stroke it before he watched you lay flat on the couch as he pushed the base of his dick against the soft mounds of your tits. “yeah, like that, come on, baby,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to rock his hips back and forth, your boobs jiggling with every thrust. you could feel the warmth of his cock, the wetness of his spit and precum mixing together, creating a sticky mess on your chest. it drove you insane, creating an even stickier mess between your thighs. it was all about the wild look on his face as he watched the way your boobs took his entire length in, the way his free hand toyed with your left tit, pulling at the nipple and squishing it against the skin of his cock as he rutted his hips slowly. the tip of his dick hit your chin and you couldn’t help but open your mouth, letting your tongue wrap around his head and take it in between your teeth as his shaft twitched between your boobs.

his groans grew louder as he picked up the pace, his hips slapping against your chest with every thrust. your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you felt the pressure build in your own core, his dick sliding along the underside of your chin as your tongue swirled around the tip. “fuck, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum all over your tits,” he warned you, his voice tight with need. you nodded, eager for it, feeling your own orgasm building as you watched his face scrunch up in ecstasy. your hands found their way to his hips, urging him faster, pushing him closer to the edge. you could feel the pulse of his cock, the way it grew stiffer and stiffer against your skin.

with a guttural moan, he came, spurts of hot cum painting your chest and neck as his tip left your mouth and twitched against your boobs. he thrusted forward once more just to feel the warm flesh, still spurting, and you watched with wide eyes as ropes of his seed shot out, landing on your chest and stomach. you looked up at him, panting, your chest heaving with every breath as your own climax hit you like a wave, your legs squeezing together as your muscles tightened and released in a symphony of pleasure.

mark’s eyes never left yours, the sight of his cum on your skin driving him wild. he leaned in, licking the creamy liquid off your neck before grabbing your hand and guiding it to his hardening member. “don’t get tired on me, baby. who said we were done?” he whispered, his voice husky with satisfaction.

✧.*

a/n: thank you to whoever requested this!! if you don’t like how it turned out lmk and i’ll redo it babe

[diaphamin]

stranger. — mark lee 𝜗𝜚

in which mark lee attempts to text his ex girlfriend, not knowing her number was switched over to you.

part four, read part one or five at the bottom.

yapamin: WHY THE MAN ON THE MIC SOUND A LIL SEXY.. to everyone who thought y/n was his ex why must yall be evil 💔 but maybe there is a major plot twist coming soon.. we will never know… feel free to be more evil in my asks i lauvvv it

as always my babies i loveeee uuuuuuu ♡

[read part one here] — [read part five here]

[strrykais]

1-800-hot-n-fun [xiao dejun]

what could be more annoying than neighbors, unfortunately its your number neighbor. xiao dejun just wanted to talk to someone new, its not his fault he was on top.

nct masterlist

permanent taglist : @thatsatricky1 @jungaji @totheseok @mystverse @goldenmellow @skysole

[viasdreams]

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

meeting xiaojun’s parents for the first time

⊹ read part 2 here !!

a/n: ik his parents high-five when they see his face cuz GOD DAMN !!!!

fake text m.list ☁︎⋅

[tyongty]

I could be a better boyfriend — jaehyun ff . (MASTERLIST) lowercase intended

( synopsis ) you’re a new girl all over again. entering your freshman year of college with clean slate, finally confident in yourself. but, of course, the world always has a way of bringing us down… unexpectedly, your middle school bully, jeong jaehyun reappears into your life. but, this time instead tormenting you physically hes doing it emotionally.

pairing(s) : nerd!reader x frat!jaehyun, nerd!reader x nct members

content : mature language, toxic ass relationship icl, university!au, badboy x goodgirl & bully -> lover trope :( features other idols !

type : smau (still w/ alot of writing ofc)

genre : angst, fluff, smut

status : starting soon !

intro —

y/n & friends : locked

nct members : locked

teaser : locked

chapters —

1 . .

2 . .

3 . .

4 . .

5 . .

© tyongty 2024

[blue-jisungs]

[ 7:40pm ] for the first time ever, you were ready before your boyfriend. you had a date planned and since you started putting on your makeup and clothes earlier, and dejun was scrolling on tiktok, you somehow were dressed head to toe whereas he was hurriedly putting on his tie.

“i never thought such a miracle would happen” you chuckled, deciding to help him. the reservation was for 8pm and it was nearly 7:40pm. add a 10 minute ride… yeah, you were on a tight schedule.

“can you pass me my watch? it should be somewhere in the drawer” he hummed, fingers nervously fixing the tie. maybe he shouldn’t put it on in a rush in the first place.

then he froze and in the same time he saw your silhouette in the mirror.

dejun whipped his head around and jumped to the drawer that you opened to reach for his watch. he totally forgot the thing was there too.

“are you serious?” you breathed out, your eyes finally tearing away from the velvety box. you looked at him, fear in his ebony irises. you laughed and smacked his arm, handing him the watch. “hide it better next time, idiot”

his heart was racing so fast, mentally cursing his own stupidity. how could he forget he hid the engagement ring there?

“come on, it’s not like you’ll propose today. let’s go, we’ll be late” you teased and pecked the corner of his lips, leaving the room. you tried to keep your cool but dejun could see the excitement in your features.

smiling foolishly to himself, he only shook his head and closed the drawer. he’ll hide it in a better spot once he comes back home.

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@slytherinshua ,, @haecien ,, @eternalgyu

[wayvchip]

cute dates with boyfriend!wayv

kun invites you over to his apartment to cook dinner and have a relaxing wine night. except maybe it wasn't that relaxing since you both turn it into a tipsy masterchef cooking competition. although you are quite intimidated by his cooking skills, you don't let that stop you from trying your best (which wasn't very good). kun, being the nicest guy ever, lets you win. the winner chooses the loser's punishment. you make him wear an embarrassing apron that says "kiss the cook but don't touch the buns" kun complies and prays the pictures you took of him on your phone never end up in yangyang's hands, or else he would never hear the end of it.

ten loves volunteering at the animal shelter, especially a shelter with lots of cats who need extra love and attention. you and ten spend the whole day playing with the cats, feeding them, cleaning out their cages, and brushing their fur. he almost wants to adopt yet another cat or two or three, but you gently remind him this isn't in real life neko atsume so he cannot collect all the cats in the world (unfortunately). ten's eyes soften when he sees you cuddling a senior kitty and he can't help but think to himself he wants to raise many cats with you in the future.

winwin would take you to the beach on a sunny day to enjoy the light breeze and salty air until the sun sets. you notice how he doesn't even try to hide the fact that he is checking you out. winwin compliments you endlessly and gives you one of his jackets to cover up because he hates the thought of other people staring at you. throughout the day, you help each other reapply sunscreen, and you giggle whenever he struggles to squeeze the tube that barely has any sunscreen left, because it sounds exactly like someone after they eat taco bell. during moments he thinks you aren't looking, winwin manages to find a pretty pearly white seashell among the billions of grains of sand and gives it to you.

xiaojun would invite you over to his place and you guys spend the whole time building legos and geeking out over the newest flower and plant lego sets. he starts sweating when your hand accidentally touches his hand while reaching for the same lego piece, even though you guys are literally dating. silly ahh boy. after you both finish building the set in one sitting, xiaojun makes you one of his famous oreo mug cakes, and he makes sure to lightly blow on the spoonful of batter to cool it down before feeding it to you and watching you eat it (he is so whipped for you)

hendery would take you to a hong kong style cafe. it's cozy and cute, and has lots of history behind how the shop came to be what it is today. you have trouble deciding what to order since you are unfamiliar with cantonese food but hendery excitedly explains each dish in detail just for you. once you decide what to get, hendery orders for you in cantonese, which makes you fall in love with him all over again. his eyes light up when you show interest in learning a few canto phrases and he feels his heart melt a little when you repeat after his words and ask if your pronounciation was okay.

yangyang loves going to the arcade section in the amusement park. the bright, colorful lights, silly circus music, and sound effects from the machines makes him feel like he's reliving his childhood again. yangyang tries to show off his claw machine skills because he wants to impress you. he literally tries so hard and finally wins a plushie for you after his like eleventh attempt. while yangyang is rambling on about how the "claw machine was rigged" and how "it wasn't a skill issue" on his part, you give him a quick kiss on the cheek, which makes him shut up immediately and start blushing furiously.

[nyizg]

I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN I LOVE HAECHAN 𝓲 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.

[meiideryz]

how wayv's first kiss with you would be like

pairing: wayv x reader

kun

after a romantic dinner. he drives you home from taking you to your date with him at a fancy dinner he had arranged, wanting you to show how he really loves you and would want to take the relationship into the next step. he walks you to the front porch of your house, standing near the doorstep. before he says goodbye, he says how much he enjoyed the date, and you say the same. there is a still sound of silence of him staring at you. then, he leans in to capture your lips to his. the rhythm of your mouths moving against each other is slow, but good enough for the both of you to feel the butterflies in your stomachs. he smiles at you when you pull away, and then his hand reached for your own, kissing the back of your palm before he leaves the neighborhood. kun will never forget such a memorable moment.

ten

during a game of spin the bottle. at first he laughs, staring at the empty wine bottle landing in your direction. with the rest of the players anticipating, he isn't afraid to back out. he hates being called a coward. he makes no hesitation before smashing his lips against yours. there's still the taste of alcohol both of you consumed just moments ago. besides the liquor, he also feels drunk with the way he keeps pressing his lips deeper and his tongue swiping on your bottom lip as a permission for more access. ten merely forgets the audience watching him, focusing entirely to make you feel good and pleased. when he pulls away, he gets a good view of your lips, smeared and coated with his own saliva, and lipstick smudged from the corners of your mouth. seeing you in that state gives him a satisfied look on his face, a smug creeping up from his lips.

winwin

saying goodbye to him. sicheng is given the opportunity to finally pursue the passion he loves, but it hurts him to know that he needs to leave where he already finds and calls home—you. both of you stand before the pane glass doorframes of the airport, sicheng's hand holds onto the handle of his luggage, while the other never leaves yours. it's all going too fast. the grip on your hand tightens. you notice the way he's trying to hold to his emotions, how hard he's trying to stifle his sobs. he feels you return the same tightness on his hand, assuring him that everything will be fine. a hand slowly creeps up to gently touch his already stained cheeks. he's going to miss you, so much. sicheng's hand clasps around the hand where you touch him, pulling it down. and there, you feel his plump lips on yours. it's trembling, and of course, it's sad. you don't tell him to stay through your reciprocation, but instead, it tells him to go, to chase what he loves.

xiaojun

acting out a kiss scene. it's the first rehearsal of the play the casts are going to act in, including the two of you. it's no surprise when both of you find out to be the leads of the play. dejun thinks that it will go as smoothly as possible, given the fact that the two of you are comfortable with each other of everything, and you think so too. as all of you are reading the script, the director reminds you of the kiss scenes, so when the actual practice came, dejun tells himself that the kiss is and only for professional purposes. he composes himself before standing in front of you with a smile. you say your lines, enunciating them word for word with feelings to embody the character as he does the same. his hands reaches for your own just like what it says on the script, and wasting no time, he plants a kiss on your lips. you don't move, but he feels his stomach doing the somersaults. all he can think about at this very moment is your soft lips, your grip on his hand tightens, your eyelashes tickling his cheeks—then it's all gone when you pull away. looking at each other for a few seconds, a sudden fit of laughter bursts out from the two of you. both of you suppress your giggles when the director yells, telling you and dejun to stop laughing and concentrate on the script.

hendery

out of curiosity. he stares at you with a surprised expression on his face after hearing you ask how a kiss feels like. it's not like he doesn't know how to kiss someone as he had gained experiences from previous relationships, and clearly this was your first. his mind go dizzy when you ask him to kiss you. he isn't sure if it's only his mind playing him, but with a couple slaps across his face, it's not a dream. before kissing you, hendery makes sure to ask if you're still okay with the idea, never forgetting to seek for your consent. with a hand on your neck and the other to cup your cheek, your lips are on his. the lingering touch of your hands on his chest traveling around his neck causes him to smile in between the kiss. he also makes sure that you're satisfied with the kiss he shares with you, in a way that will make you feel good and relieve to know that you just had the best first kiss ever given by your own friend. hendery can't seem to sleep the following nights, replaying the scene over and over again, as he starts to fall in love with you.

yangyang

in the heat of the moment. he understands why you're mad at him for completely ruining your date with a person you recently talked to. yangyang warns you over again that the guy isn't good for you, that his background isn't something that's worth to be with. he watches you pace around the room, telling him that he has no right to deny a relationship you want to have, telling him that he should mind his own business. he couldn't do that. he knows what's best for you because he cares for your happiness. if it weren't for him, you will be trapped in a toxic unbearable relationship that might emotionally and mentally break you. what he wants for you to realize that there is one who could actually treat and love you better—him. yangyang grabs you by the shoulders, snapping you out. you break free from his tight grip, wanting to turn around and leave the room. that is until you feel his hand tug your arm back to face him as he finally smashes his lips against yours. the kiss is nowhere near sweet and full of passion. it's rough, lips smacking against each other, teeth scraping the skin and muscle of your tongues, and short hot breaths filling the quiet room. he's angry, you're angry, but neither of you pull away.

©MEIIDERYZ 2024. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[chenlesfavorite]

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NIGHT RIDER : chapter 45 — my angel

back — masterlist

! author’s note : and here we are! the end… I can’t believe it’s actually over guys, feels like I started posting it just yesterday wow 😭 im gonna miss this smau so bad it’s genuinely my fav i’ve written so far 🥹 thank you to everyone who went thru this journey with me, and thank you for reading it 🫶 i hope you’ll tune into the next smau, where [-] wants y/n to match his and hers heart 🤭

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[10byten]

Meeting Jaehyun’s friend

So here's part 2 of this publication ! The dinner with the rest of 127 and how you manage to charm them all over the course of one evening. I hope you’ll enjoy it. 💘

As soon as Jaehyun steps into the apartment, he’s hit by the most delicious smell teasing his senses. In the living room, a table filled with Italian dishes catches his eye. You’re standing in the kitchen, carefully spreading lemon glaze over a cake. He can’t resist. He slips an arm around your waist and pulls you close, hugging you from behind. You tilt your head slightly, giving him access to your neck, and he starts placing soft kisses along your skin.

“You’re incredible. What is all this?” “I wanted to do something nice for you… and make sure your friends eat well tonight.” He chuckles, looking at the food. “I’m worried they’ll start coming over too often after this.” You laugh, “Would that be such a bad thing?” In one swift move, he spins you around to face him, a playful glint in his eye. “Hmm, yeah, actually. That would be a problem. I wouldn’t get enough alone time with you.” He leans in, kissing you deeply, savoring your lips as if it’s been years instead of just a day apart. His hands wander lower.

“Mm-mm,” you murmur against his lips, breaking the moment, “your friends are literally going to be here in one minute.” “I’m starting to regret inviting them. Who even needs friends, anyway?” “That’s a great question. We could just pretend no one’s home. Let them get bored of ringing the bell.” Jaehyun groans dramatically, pressing his forehead against yours. “This is exactly why you’re dangerous. You’re always so perfect.”

Before he can pull you in for another kiss, the doorbell rings. You laugh softly, escaping his arms, leaving him pouting like a kid. He trails behind you as you open the door, his gaze still glued to you, stars in his eyes.

The night kicks off better than anyone could’ve imagined.

The boys are all immediately charmed. They compliment your cooking nonstop, their plates barely staying full for longer than a minute.

“I have to admit, I had my doubts when we got to the door earlier,” Haechan jokes. “For a second, I thought we’d open it to find Jaehyun standing there alone, and it’d finally be time to stage an intervention.” You raise an eyebrow, amused. “An intervention? For what?” “Well, we’ve heard a lot about you… like, a lot, and Jaehyun was so secretive about everything, we kinda started wondering if you were even real.”

“Oh, I see,” you tease. “Or maybe you’re all just crazy and have been talking to an empty chair this whole time.” The room erupts into laughter. Johnny raises his glass. “Damn, dude. Now I get it. She’s a keeper.”

Jaehyun grins, looking completely smitten. “You can bet I’m not letting her go.”

Yuta’s eyes light up when he realizes you know a bit of Japanese. You both slip into a quick conversation, leaving the rest of the group completely mesmerized.

“Uh, are we allowed to know what you two are saying?” Mark finally asks, looking between you and Yuta like he’s missing out on the most exclusive secret.

“Nothing all that exciting,” Taeyong replies for you, his tone a mix of intimidation and admiration as he glances at Jaehyun. “But, honestly? It’s impressive. Respect.”

Johnny leans back with a smirk, looking directly at you. “So let me get this straight—you cook, you’re funny, interesting, multilingual, and, no offense Jaehyun, you’re absolutely stunning. Are we sure he’s the one? I mean, if you ever start doubting or if things don’t work out, call me, yeah?”

You laugh, playing along. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the offer.”

Jaehyun shakes his head with a small laugh, his eyes softening as he leans down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Not even a chance I’d let that happen,” he murmurs, his voice firm but full of affection.

When you stand to grab dessert, the guys erupt into dramatic gestures of approval toward Jaehyun—thumbs up, silent cheers, all of it. You giggle, shaking your head as Taeyong gets up to help you clear the plates, following you to the kitchen.

“That’s really sweet, but you didn’t have to,” you say as he starts collecting dishes. “It’s the least I can do. I know what it’s like handling a big table like that.”

You laugh, teasing him. “Yeah, I guess you’re kind of the dad of a huge family.” He nods, chuckling. “But I can’t cook half as well as you. Honestly, I think you’ve stolen everyone’s hearts—and their stomachs—tonight.”

“Hmm, not sure I’ve won Jungwoo over yet, though.” Taeyong laughs softly. “Well, before you, it was him sharing a room with Jaehyun. Just a little case of jealousy—it’ll pass, don’t worry.”

In the living room, the guys can’t stop talking about you.“Where’d you even find her?” Mark asks, clearly amazed. “And do they have more in stock?” Johnny leans back, grinning. “Honestly, I get why you hid her from us for so long. If it were me, I’d move her to some remote cabin in the woods and never let anyone else see her.” Doyoung, never missing an opportunity to tease, smirks. “Dude, I hope you know she’s way too good for you.” Jaehyun just rolls his eyes, grinning smugly. “I knew she’d blow you guys away.”

Haechan squints dramatically. “Unless she’s secretly, like, an assassin or something. You know, using you as a cover story.” Jaehyun smirks. “She can use me for whatever she wants.” “Yup, there it is. You’re done for. Completely whipped and hopelessly in love,” Yuta laughs, shaking his head.

Jaehyun blushes slightly, his confidence slipping for just a moment. It’s obvious to everyone in the room just how head over heels he is for you.

You and Taeyong return to the table, carrying the cake and a stack of plates. The moment Jungwoo takes his first bite, his eyes widen, and he practically lights up.

“This is amazing! You have to tell me the recipe,” he gushes, showering you with compliments.

You smile, feeling a wave of pride. “I’d be happy to make another one just for you, Jungwoo.”

And with that, you’ve officially won over the last holdout at the table. Taeyong gives you a knowing wink, as if to say, Told you so. You grin back, proud of yourself.

Jaehyun, watching the whole thing, can’t help but marvel at you. Seeing you charm his friends so effortlessly makes his heart swell. Somehow, he feels like he’s falling even deeper in love with you—if that’s even possible.

As everyone moves to the living room to settle down with some tea, Jaehyun puts on a vinyl, letting soft music fill the air while the conversation flows. The guys start shuffling around, competing to make space for you to sit next to them, but Jaehyun steps in, cutting through their suggestions.

“You’ll be just fine right here.” His tone leaves no room for debate as he grabs your hand, guiding you gently. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you onto his lap.

You settle in willingly, your arms sliding around his shoulders as his arm tightens protectively around your waist. His hand rests firmly on your hip, just above your thighs, his touch possessive but comforting.

You’re too wrapped up in the conversation with the guys to notice, but Jaehyun doesn’t take his eyes off you for a second. Watching you laugh, hearing your voice, and feeling you this close—it’s driving him crazy.

The self-control he’s been clinging to all night in front of his friends is wearing thin. His thoughts drift to everything he’s been wanting to do since he got home. He leans into your neck, burying his face in your hair as he breathes in your familiar scent, the one that he’s absolutely addicted to. A wave of desire hits him, and you feel his hand tighten on your hip as the muscles in his thighs tense beneath you.

You know what that means—your man wants you, and he’s done hiding it.

Yuta, who knows Jaehyun better than anyone, doesn’t miss a thing. He notices the shift in Jaehyun’s mood, how his mind has clearly left the room and wandered to other plans for the evening. With a knowing smirk, Yuta takes charge.

“I think it’s time we head out,” he says, signaling the end of the night.

Johnny takes your hand and kisses it lightly. “Dear Y/n, I speak for all of us when I say—please, don’t break our Jae. We’ve never seen him like this with anyone.”

You smile at the heartfelt declaration, warmth spreading through you. Looking over at your boyfriend, you catch him walking toward you with that familiar look in his eyes. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing against you like a puppy craving attention.

All he’s waiting for is for the door to close so he can sweep you off to his room and make sure every bit of your focus is on him—and him only.

“I promise, I’ll do my best,” you tease, giving him a playful smile.

The guys thank you once more before heading out, leaving the two of you alone.

-

On the way back, the guys chat excitedly about you, sharing their individual impressions. They all gush about what they loved—how effortlessly you fit in with Jaehyun and how glad they feel that their friend found someone like you. There’s one, however, who stays quiet.

“Taeyong, what did you think of her?” Yuta asks, a playful curiosity in his voice.

“I agree with you guys,” Taeyong replies, his tone soft. “She’s... unique.” Guys keep talking on.

But Doyoung, ever observant, notices Taeyong’s distant expression—his eyes unfocused, as though lost in thought. He starts to wonder if maybe one of them has been a little more taken by you than the others.

For the rest of the night, and even the days that follow, Taeyong can’t get you out of his mind. He finds himself replaying your interactions. And in his head, the same words keep echoing: It’s just a crush. It’ll pass…

-

As soon as the door shuts, Jaehyun’s lips are on yours like he’s been starving for days. Between each kiss, he whispers, “Thank you, my love, for tonight.” When his lips trail down to your neck, you take the chance to reply.

“It was my pleasure. I really loved meeting the guys. I’m so happy you introduced me to them.” “Hmm, yeah, but now I’m worried they’ll want to see you way too often.” You laugh softly. “What, afraid you’ll have to share?”

That’s when he pulls back slightly, just enough to look you in the eye, his expression darkening in the most delicious way. He presses you gently against the wall, his voice dropping. “I don’t share. Not when it comes to you. You’re mine. Completely.”

Your knees practically give out at the serious tone in his voice. Everything about him in this moment—his gaze, his touch, his entire presence—screams love and desire.

“I’m afraid you’ve made me selfish,” he murmurs, brushing his lips along your jawline. “And maybe a little too possessive.” You shiver at his words, at the heat they stir in you. “I’m sorry for that.” “Don’t be.” His voice is low and rough now. “But you’re gonna have to deal with it.”

“I think I can manage,” you whisper back, breathless. “Good,” he growls softly, lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

In no time, he’s carrying you to the bedroom, intent on showing you exactly how grateful he is for tonight—and how much he adores every little thing about you.

-

[keehomania]

Mark with big tits reader was craaazyy good 😵‍💫 what about mark with insecure reader bc she has tiny bitty titty (me)✌️

this is not a love story — mark lee (마크 리)

✧ WC: 15.8K

✧ SYN: you’ve never known love, no matter how much you believed you did. maybe it was never fated for you to cross paths, maybe it was never really there.

✧*. 18+

if there was anything you refused to allow yourself to believe in, it was a happy ending. taking things for granted seemed to come easy for humans, you thought. or rather, you knew, because you were a part of the majority. times were simpler when you were blissfully unaware. back then, you were just blissful, unaware of just how complicated life would get after those trial years.

you got your happy ending, you lived it until you turned fourteen, ready for a cruel beginning. it was easy to take the simple things for granted, and if you could turn back time, the first thing you would do is make sure to cherish it all. cherish staying up an hour past your bedtime, cuddled up with your mother, watching whatever show she had turned on. you didn’t care at the time, you didn't care for her midday soap operas or her nightly detective shows, but it was different now. now, you would give anything to watch just one more episode, curled up in her lap. you would give anything to get up early and get ready for school with your mother’s makeup, even though you hated going. you would give anything to watch cinderella one more time, to believe that happy endings really did exist.

your makeshift happy ending came to its final act when you turned fifteen. you had moved from busan to seoul just a few years back, and you were unable to adapt. a new school, new friends and a new way of life was awaitng you, but you had no idea how to make peace with it. it wasn’t too hard the first few years, all you had to do was keep to yourself. the thought of it was what kept you away from the other students, away from their cliques and personal politics, kept your grades steady and you to yourself. you were never in the eye of the storm, nobody had a reason to pick on you. like many other things, you had taken the peace for granted.

most of it started when you were fifteen, your own hormones teaming up against you. nothing had changed—not the silence, not the way those around you acted. nothing changed except your approach; you felt insignificant, like nothing you said or did mattered. you noticed the attention fall on the other girls from your class, the way nearly every boy was fond of them, showered them with praise. everything you had deemed irrelevant before had come back and hit you like a ton of bricks. why did nobody bother to give you that kind of attention? were you that ugly? was puberty doing everybody but you justice?

those kind of thoughts had started to flood your mind, seeping into every crack and crevice of your attention and ultimately stealing it from the things that really mattered. you started to focus more on your physical appearance, waking up an hour too early just to touch yourself up. you wanted to turn yourself into someone you knew you weren’t, to live somebody else's life just to feel better about yourself. everybody questioned the sudden change, no matter how little of important you deemed yourself. why was your hair straightened? had your lashes grown overnight? what was with the skimpy clothes? in a way, it was effective. more people had started talking to you, even if it was small talk. it made you feel good, but you knew you could do better.

you had traded what would later be a piece of your soul in exchange for temporary security. you entered your first real relationship that same year—it wasn’t real, it lasted five months. to a fifteen year-old girl with less than no experience, it was real. it was real when you held hands, kissed, when you lied to your parents to see him—even if it was for just twenty minutes, when he made you feel like you were the most important girl in the world. it was just as real to you when you had started smoking, drinking, doing all the things you swore not to do with him. it didn’t count if it was with him, right?

it became real when reality hit you like a physical blow to your stomach. ultimately, you had lost your virginity to him in a way that was so sudden, you knew in your head that it wasn’t love, but you weren’t thinking with your head. not when you wore your heart on your sleeve so proudly. it didn’t seem like a big deal to you, you didn’t even like it all that much. you just wanted to feel the love you so badly chased after, even if it only lasted five minutes. you told your friend all about it the next day, but you were so worked up and eager to share the news that you had forgotten just how much the kids your aged liked to blabber, and it was exactly what he did. you didn’t realize just how fast the news had spread, you didn’t register the dirty looks and condescending stares for a good while, until you had to.

the news of your distasteful encounter had reached the staff. the principal, the secretary, and the guidance counselor. when you were called into her office, you didn't know what it was you were expecting. the office itself put you off—white, sleek walls, a tidy desk, three chairs alligned perfectly to the side, and the sharp, pungent stench of medical supplies. everything about it made your stomach twist with fear, even though you didn’t know what it was that you were so afraid of. the silence only put you off further, but then, she finally cut through it. the sole start was just to ask you basic questions—how were you doing? have you been experiencing any issues lately? what was your life like at home, any concerns? it was meant to make you comfortable, to spread your soul open and go after its most tainted parts, but it only made you more queasy.

you wished the small talk had lasted longer, because you were absolutely unprepared for what followed. when she asked you if it was true that you had lost your virginity, you felt your world turn upside down. you were sure she had seen the way your face paled and heard the way your heart thumped in your ears, you were positive. your throat had started to close up and your lips grew chapped, no matter how many times you ran your tongue over them. in the end, you had to admit it, there was absolutely no way out of it. you had finished your confession with what worried you the most, begging her to honor the counselor code and to keep your parents uninformed. she promised to keep it a secret, but never intended on taking it to her grave.

in all fairness, you were fifteen. it wasn’t morally right to lie to you, but lying to your parents about such a situation would've been even worse. your mother threw a fit, broke down in the worst way possible and cried herself to sleep three nights in a row. your father had shut down—he was never mad, he was just disappointed. your mother had gone off like a time bomb waiting to explode, and she finally did. she exploded in a way that made you feel like you were the epitome of everything wrong with the world, and in a way that made her feel like she was the reason for it. you had blamed her for taking advantage of your future for so long, for forcing you to move with her just because she wanted to—because she longed for her city even if you liked yours better. you didn't think you resented her for it, even though she knew you did. she made peace with it, with the fact that you had both found a way to put a strain on your relationship.

your boyfriend was the first to break things off with you, even though you were the one instructed to do so. you had no intention of doing it, telling him all about what happened and his response being something generic and typical for a boy his age—you’d find a way out of it, he'd stay by your side, he’d wait as long as possible for you. you didn’t know it then but when you looked back at it, you felt like a fool. none of his promises were fulfilled, and you were left with a void in your heart for the first time in your life. it was a void you had filled with cheap cigarettes, shots of groccery store tequila, red hair dye and an absolute punch to your youth.

you were sixteen by then, and you had lost any and all touch with reality. the void in your soul was blocked by going to parties you swore you would never come across, befriending the hosts even though you knew they were shitty people, expanding your circle of friends you knew hated you deep down—but you didn’t care. it was a phase that took a toll on you and your reputation. during that phase, you had gotten yourself entangled in two more relationships. they were short-lived, shorter than your first one, but you didn’t wanna be alone. if you weren't with your friends or drinking, you wanted to feel loved. even if you knew it was temporary. you had given yourself up two more times to feel the love you thought you deserved, even though it wasn’t love. it didn’t faze you until people started talking about it, again.

this would happen four more times. four more times would you give yourself up to four different people you thought loved you. maybe some of them did, you didn’t know anymore. you had stopped believing in it a long time ago, you had stopped chasing the happy ending you thought awaited you. maybe you struggles weren’t all for nothing, you hoped, maybe the sun was hidden behind the clouds, but it wasn't. the sun had fallen and it was dark, and your only source of light was what was familiar. it wasn’t a good kind of familiar, no matter how useful the light seemed. it was a blinding kind of light and it, too, would succumb to the darkness at some point.

the cycle repeated itself four times, but you were too numb to realize just how bad it had gotten. the only time you had fallen in love during the whole ordeal was with the fourth guy. you were seventeen at the time, and he was a year younger than you. anybody listening would’ve assumed it was your shot at a happy ending, that it was everything you’ve ever wanted, and it almost was. almost. you were out with your friend and her boyfriend, and he had insisted on going to one of the many bars in town, but your friend was reluctant. you had been texting a guy at the time and, though it was rather casual, he happened to be in the same bar. it was the only reason you agreed, promising her you’d be there for just a bit. the guy you had been texting wasn’t too eager to see you, thinking it was too soon, but it all changed when you walked in. as corny as it was, it was the truth. he hadn’t expected you to be so pretty, so charming and so gentle with him. you barely noticed him at first—when you walked into the bar, the first thing you felt was the stench of medical equipment in the bathroom assaulting your nostrils.

despite the rough start, it was a relationship that blossomed into something that was as beautiful as a foxglove. it came in different shades, patterns and shapes, but it was beautiful. it was beautiful when you took a glance at it, even a good stare. it was beautiful when you embraced it, even for a long while, but it was just as deadly if you held onto it for too long. that was exactly what you did. you held onto it until you had nothing to hold onto anymore, until the stem had snapped and the petals danced in the air. the petals were all that was left, but even they showed no mercy. he had broken it off after six months, claiming to have done it because you were dishonest with him about how many people you had slept with prior to him, but you knew that it wasn't true. you knew he had just gotten bored of you.

your breaking point came just after, and you grieved him far longer than you should have. eight months proceeding the split had been spent drinking, pondering and making a fool out of yourself—all because of a man. it made you spiral, shift and it was the sole reason you fell apart. nothing mattered anymore, not even the people that made it their mission to turn your the intimate details about your life into a public spectacle. you let yourself fall apart with nothing to catch you but your own too arms, and even they weren’t enough to carry the weight of your burdens. had you ever known love? what was the point of feeling the warmth of a home if it was built with cards? you hadn’t known love, and you were sure you never would.

you started to take yourself seriously when you turned eighteen. the people hated you, all the people your age. they all knew you based on the mistakes you had made, the most intricate details of your life that you prayed would never come to light, and the poor decisions on your behalf. your name had become such a taboo topic that you had detached yourself from the rest of the city. you spent a summer away in japan with your uncle, searching for a way to put your mind at ease. upon coming back, you were quick and pleased to discover that everybody had forgotten about you. you were no longer relevant, your scandals were no longer interesting to talk about. it was something that one of your exes, kim dongyoung, assured you that it was as if people has forgotten about you entirely. despite having a rough split with him, one that was entirely your fault, you remained friends with him, and he was good to you.

your final year of high school came to a peaceful and successful close. all of your time was devoted to your classes and extracurriculars, and nobody said a word about it. you had assumed tens of thousands of derogatory words would roll off their tongues, at least behind your back, but there was nothing. once again, you didn't matter, and you couldn't have been happier about it. you graduated as best as you could, and absolutely everything had changed, but you didn’t feel at ease. you didn't feel like you would get your happy ending, no matter how well you were doing.

the pressure that once felt distant was now inescapable, crushing you under its weight. you thought the relief would come after graduation, that somehow this looming sense of duty would evaporate as you took the next logical step—studying law, following in the footsteps your family had silently mapped out for you. but instead, the silence from everyone around you only added to your disquiet. the silence wasn’t praise, it wasn’t encouragement, it was indifference. you had worked so hard for nothing more than a polite smile, a generic “congratulations.” no one cared.

that was when the contract came in—a modeling gig, of all things. It was meant to be temporary, a short detour from the expected path. you figured it would be easy. why wouldn’t it be? pose for a few pictures, walk down a runway. In and out, no mess. you’d take some time, maybe earn a little money before heading to law school like you had always planned. you signed your name on the dotted line, not fully realizing what it meant. suddenly, you were in it—korea’s newest face, the nation’s ‘princess.’ the transformation wasn’t gradual; it was like waking up in someone else’s body. one minute you were a student, scandalous, spat on. the next, you were everywhere. billboards, magazines, flashing cameras. thhe whole country seemed to know your name, and for the first time, you felt like you existed.

but existence always came at a price. at first, it was small sacrifices. a skipped meal here, an extra workout there. you told yourself it was temporary, just until the next shoot, just until the next campaign. soon, celery and ice cubes became your daily staples, the only things you allowed yourself to consume. the emptiness inside you wasn’t just hunger anymore—it was something deeper, more insidious. your reflection in the mirror grew sharper, more defined, as if every pound you shed stripped away another layer of who you used to be.

the people around you noticed the changes, but not in the way you expected. the criticisms came, not from the people who mattered to you, but from strangers. overweight men with sagging bellies, women who would never fit into the clothes you wore—they all felt entitled to say something. a comment about your posture, the way your hips didn’t quite match their idea of perfection, how your eyes looked too tired. their words clung to you like grease, seeping into every pore until you began to believe them. but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t stop. the insults only fueled you, driving you to work harder, push further, just to prove them wrong.

there were moments when you wanted to quit, when the exhaustion from endless workouts and starvation weighed you down so heavily that you felt your bones might snap under the strain. there were nights when you stared at the ceiling, wondering if you had made the right choice, if modeling had been easier than law—or if this was just another cage, more gilded but no less suffocating. yet, despite it all, something began to shift. it started with the way people looked at you. at first, you didn’t notice. you were too busy hiding your exhaustion behind perfect makeup, too focused on pretending that everything was fine. but then, you began to see it—the looks that weren’t pitying, weren’t dismissive. people weren’t looking at you like they used to, with that thin layer of contempt, the way they had in school. it wasn’t hatred anymore. this time, when they looked at you, it was admiration.

the way their eyes lingered on you wasn’t like before. It was different—soft, almost reverent. you could feel it in the way they stood a little straighter when you walked into a room, the way conversations quieted, as if your mere presence demanded attention. you started to recognize that look. it was the one you had given others, the untouchable, the perfect. they didn’t see you as human anymore, but as something beyond that. they saw perfection, or the closest thing to it that they could grasp.

it felt good. addictively good. the power that came with their admiration, their respect, it washed over you like a warm current, and you couldn’t deny how much you craved it. it filled the hollow places inside you that no amount of food or rest could fix. you had always wanted to be seen, to matter, and now you did. it didn’t matter if you were starving. it didn’t matter if you felt like you were falling apart behind the scenes. as long as they looked at you like that, it was worth it, wasn’t it? you had become korea’s ‘princess,’ but deep down, you knew. the crown was heavy, and it wasn’t yours to keep forever. you just didn’t know how long you could carry it.

the studio was a cavernous space, its high ceilings disappearing into soft shadows cast by the industrial lighting rigged above. a haze of white light bathed the room, diffusing over every surface, amplifying the sharpness of the scene in front of you. rows of expensive cameras clicked in perfect rhythm, each shutter a drumbeat to your performance. the set was minimal—sleek, modern, monochrome—a backdrop of muted grays and blacks that made your crimson gown blaze like fire.

you were the centerpiece, draped in a figure-hugging satin dress that pooled dramatically around your feet. the fabric clung to every curve, shimmering under the lights with every subtle movement. a slit ran high up your thigh, a calculated element of the designer’s vision. the neckline dipped just enough to tease, but not to scandalize. everything was deliberate, down to the last stitch. you had become a canvas, an embodiment of elegance, allure, and untouchable sophistication.

“alright, beautiful, chin up. yes, just like that,” the photographer’s voice echoed, smooth and precise. his name was han minseok, and he had a reputation for bringing out the best in his models. his praise came easy, but you knew better than to let it sink in too deep. you held your pose, lifting your chin slightly, eyes half-lidded as you stared down the lens with calculated indifference. “perfect, darling,” minseok murmured. the camera clicked again, rapid-fire. “you’re nailing it. hold it right there—perfect!”

your manager, jeong jaehyun, stood off to the side, arms crossed, observing the shoot with an approving smile. his eyes followed every movement you made, calculating, critiquing, but also proud. he knew how to push you, knew exactly how far you could go before breaking. and today, you were flawless. you could feel his approval radiating from him without him needing to say a word. you shifted your weight slightly, allowing the dress to catch the light in a new way. the faintest smirk tugged at your lips—a hint of danger, a whisper of seduction. you manqged to embody the theme of the shoot effortlessly. minseok lowered the camera, grinning wide. “that’s a wrap. fantastic work as always.”

jaehyun approached you, his smile soft but pleased. he handed you a bottle of water, and you accepted it with a gracious nod, twisting the cap off to take a slow sip. the cold liquid hit your parched throat, refreshing but momentarily distracting. when you looked back at him, you noticed it—the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes today. there was a sadness, a shadow lingering behind his usually confident demeanor. “jaehyun,” you said softly, eyebrows furrowing. “what’s wrong?”

his smile wavered. “sit down for a second,” he said, gesturing toward one of the nearby makeup chairs. your heart skipped a beat, a subtle prickle of worry crawling up your spine. you did as he asked, sitting gingerly, suddenly aware of the hum of the studio around you—the muffled conversations, the clinking of equipment being packed away, the janitor scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the floor in the corner. the sharp smell of cleaning chemicals stung your nostrils, cutting through the faint scent of hairspray still lingering in the air. you tried to ignore it, forcing your attention back to jaehyun.

“what’s going on?” you asked, your voice low and uneasy. he hesitated, a brief flicker of discomfort crossing his features before he spoke. “i’m being relocated. back to connecticut. it’s for a while—maybe a few months.”

you blinked, the words sinking in like a slow, cold weight. “what?” your voice came out quieter than you intended. he saw the look on your face, and he immediately stepped forward, taking your hands into his, his grip firm but comforting. “i’ll be back,” he assured you, his tone gentle. “you’ll be fine, better than fine. you’re doing better than ever.”

the disappointment hit you like a punch to the chest, sharp and unexpected. “i can’t do it without you,” you whispered, your voice almost breaking. he shook his head, his expression softening even more. “it’s not me, it’s you. i’m the one who can’t do this without you.”

his words should have been comforting, but they only deepened the sense of dread coiling in your stomach. jaehyun had been with you since the beginning, guiding you through every high and low, through every mistake and every victory. the thought of him not being there, even for a little while, made the ground beneath your feet feel unsteady. he paused for a moment, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles before he continued. “you’ll have someone new. a friend of mine, just as experienced as me. i trust him completely.” you frowned, skeptical. “who?”

“you’ll meet him tonight,” he said, offering a small smile. “the whole team is going out for drinks, and he’ll be there.” you nodded, though the knot of anxiety in your chest tightened. even with his reassurances, the idea of working with someone new didn’t sit well with you. the trust you had in him wasn’t something that could be replaced so easily. sensing your unease, jaehyun leaned down, wrapping you in a hug. his arms were warm, familiar, grounding. “you’ll always be a star,” he murmured against your ear, his voice low and comforting. “with or without me.”

you hated how much those words hurt. hated how much you had allowed yourself to rely on him. it wasn’t supposed to be this way. you weren’t supposed to get attached—not to anyone. but history had a cruel way of repeating itself, didn’t it? all you ever did was get attached. you didn’t trust yourself to say anything, so you nodded silently, letting him hold you for a moment longer before he pulled away, his hand squeezing yours one last time. he gave you a final smile—sad, but reassuring—before he turned and walked toward the door, leaving you alone with the weight of his absence already settling over you, even if he hadn’t left you yet. they all left, why was it so shocking that his turn had come?

your apartment was a modern contradiction—beautiful, sleek, but hollow. the wide windows let in a gentle glow from the streetlights outside, casting long shadows against the pristine white walls. it was elegant, like something out of a design magazine, all clean lines and expensive furniture. the kind of place that should have felt like home but never quite did. every corner was curated, from the marble countertops to the velvet sectional sofa that sat untouched most days. everything looked perfect, yet the emptiness inside you felt sharper here, in this space that was too big for just one person.

your parents hadn’t been to your apartment, hadn’t seen this life you had built for yourself. not that they cared to. you hadn’t spoken to them in months, not since they’d made it clear that your choice to model, rather than pursue law, was unforgivable. their silence hung over you like a cloud, heavy and oppressive, yet familiar. you were used to being left behind. your father’s words still echoed in your head, dismissive and final, “you’re wasting your potential.” your mother hadn’t said anything at all—her disapproval was cold, passive, like she had washed her hands of you.

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, hands delicately applying makeup with a precision you had perfected over the years. the foundation smoothed over your skin, covering every flaw, creating the illusion of perfection you’d mastered long ago. the emptiness in your chest collided with the fullness of your apartment—so much space, so little meaning. it felt like you had filled your life with things, with a career that demanded all of you, and yet somehow you remained empty inside, hollowed out by the silence from the people who should have cared the most. your hands moved almost mechanically as you styled your hair, pulling it into loose waves that fell over your shoulders in soft, effortless curls. your outfit for the night was simple but striking—an off-the-shoulder black dress that hugged your frame, the fabric slinking around your body like it was made for you. it was elegant, understated, but you knew it would turn heads. you always turned heads.

as you stepped out of your apartment and into the waiting car, you felt a strange sense of detachment. the city lights blurred outside the tinted windows, a constant stream of life and movement, yet you felt removed from it all. the car ride to the bar was short, but the knot of anxiety in your stomach twisted tighter with each passing minute. you weren’t sure what tonight would bring, but something told you things were about to change. jaehyun was supposed to meet you, introduce you to your new manager. the thought made you feel uneasy.

when the car pulled up to the bar, you were immediately greeted by the flash of cameras. it never ceased to unnerve you, the sudden explosion of light, the shouts from photographers who called your name like they knew you. you squinted against the brightness, stepping out of the car as gracefully as you could manage, though the onslaught of attention left you feeling exposed, vulnerable. you half-expected jaehyun to come out and handle the situation, to shield you like he always did, but he didn’t. the door to the bar opened, and for a brief moment, you thought it was him. but it wasn’t.

instead, a man appeared, a bit shorter than jaehyun but striking in his own way. he wore a leather jacket rather than jaehyun’s usual denim, the dark material catching the light in a way that made him look almost dangerous. his jawline was sharper, more distinct, and his dark hair was swept down in front, framing his forehead. his eyes met yours, and there was something in the way he looked at you—something unreadable, intense. he didn’t say a word as he approached, discarding his jacket and spreading it open to shield you from the cameras. his movements were smooth, confident, as he draped the jacket over your shoulders and guided you inside. the warmth of the leather was a stark contrast to the cold, clinical detachment you’d felt all evening.

“who are you?” you asked, your voice soft but firm, laced with confusion. his eyes stayed locked on yours, his gaze steady, unreadable. “mark lee,” he said, his tone calm, measured. he paused, and for a moment, you thought he might say more, but instead, he let the silence hang between you. then, as if deciding to answer the question you hadn’t asked, he added, “i’m your new manager. didn’t jaehyun tell you?”

your heart sank slightly, the pieces falling into place—he was the one jaehyun had spoken about. mark studied your face as though he were trying to read you, to understand something you hadn’t yet said. a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, almost amused by your reaction. “it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said softly. you blinked, unsure of how to respond. the words you spoke felt disconnected from the thoughts in your mind. “the pleasure’s all mine,” you mumbled, though the uncertainty in your voice betrayed you.

mark’s gaze lingered a second longer before he turned, leading you further inside, away from the flashes of the cameras. the air inside the bar was warmer, thick with the chatter of people and the clinking of glasses, but you couldn’t shake the strange feeling that had settled in your chest. even as he guided you to a table, the leather of his jacket still draped over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was shifting beneath your feet. and you weren’t sure you liked it.

the bar was vaguely lit, the low hum of conversation blending with the soft clink of glasses. a few members of the team were already gathered around a table near the back, the familiar faces of the makeup artist, the stylist, and the photographer who had been on set earlier. they greeted you with warm smiles and the easy familiarity of people who had spent long hours together under bright studio lights. it was strange how these people had become your family of sorts, even if it wasn’t a family you had chosen.

jaehyun spotted you first, standing up with that easy grin of his, arms already open for a hug. “there she is,” he murmured, pulling you in tightly. his embrace was warm and comforting, but the knowledge that this might be one of the last times he’d be there for you made it bittersweet. “have you met your new manager yet?” he asked as he released you, his eyes glancing over at mark, who stood just a few steps behind you.

you nodded, unsure of what to say, the words getting caught somewhere between your mind and your mouth. you could still feel the weight of mark’s jacket on your shoulders, the leather warm against your skin, grounding you as you stood between the two men. you wanted to say something that sounded more certain, but you were scared of how it might come out—scared it might sound like you didn’t want this. mark stepped forward, a casual confidence in his movements. “she ran into a bit of paparazzi trouble outside,” he said with a slight chuckle, as if it was nothing new.

jaehyun clapped him on the back, laughing. “always on duty, huh? you must have eyes everywhere.” mark grinned, his laugh coming easy. “you have no idea.”

he pulled out a chair for you, the gesture small but thoughtful, as he motioned for you to sit between him and jaehyun. as you lowered yourself into the seat, your eyes met his for a moment, and there was something in the way he smiled at you that eased the tension in your chest just a little bit. you settled in, the low buzz of the bar around you offering some comfort, though you still couldn’t shake the feeling of change looming in the air. the drinks came quickly—classic cocktails, neat whiskey, and bottles of soju. jaehyun was the first to raise his glass, and you followed suit. “i’m going to miss having soju while i’m away,” he said with a sigh, swirling the glass in his hand.

you clinked your glass against his, a smile tugging at your lips. “we’ll drink it in your honor.” he laughed, and as you turned to clink your glass with mark’s, your eyes met his again. he smiled back at you, that same easy warmth from earlier. for a second, you forgot about the looming goodbye, about the shift that was about to happen. you let yourself smile, feeling a strange sense of calm in the moment. the drinks were strong, stronger than you’d realized at first. the warmth of the alcohol spread through your chest, loosening the tightness in your muscles, and you allowed yourself to relax into the night. laughter flowed easily among the group, the conversation light and comfortable, even as the weight of jaehyun’s upcoming departure lingered on the edges.

but eventually, the night began to wind down. one by one, the team started to tap out, heading home with promises of seeing each other soon. jaehyun was the last to stand, his expression softening as he looked at you. “i’ve gotta head out. my flight’s tomorrow,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of the goodbye that neither of you wanted to say.

you stood with him, the alcohol making you feel just tipsy enough that the world seemed to blur a little around the edges. as you hugged him, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around you, and you realized just how much you were going to miss him. “mark will take good care of you,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. all you could do was nod, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. he pulled away, giving you one last look before turning to leave. you watched him go, the door closing behind him with a finality that made your heart sink.

you sat back down, the world feeling a little off-kilter now that jaehyun was gone. the noise of the bar seemed distant, the voices around you a dull hum. but then you felt a reassuring hand on your shoulder, and when you turned, you found mark looking at you, his expression gentle. “i know you aren’t thrilled about this,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. “but he’ll be back.”

you nodded, trying to steady the emotions swirling in your chest. “don’t be offended,” you said, your words a little slurred from the alcohol. “i must sound like an asshole. i’ve just known jay a long time.” mark laughed softly, shaking his head. “the models i work with are usually blunt and awful. you’re like a breath of fresh air.”

your heart fluttered at his words, though you weren’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or something else. either way, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, a blush you couldn’t quite control. “really?” you asked, your voice soft. he nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. “yeah. it’s hard to meet someone genuine like that.” it caught you off guard, the way he said it. he hadn’t called you hot or beautiful—the usual compliments that were thrown at you without much thought. he hadn’t treated you like you were something to admire from a distance, something polished and perfect. he thought you were genuine. nice, even. and for the first time in what felt like forever, something mattered other than how you looked.

mark stood outside the bar with you, his hand wrapped loosely around his phone as he called for a cab. the air was cool, the kind of breeze that bit at your skin just enough to remind you you’d had too much to drink. the world felt like it was swaying beneath you, the soft blur of neon lights and city sounds blending into the haze of alcohol that had settled deep into your bones. you barely noticed the cab pulling up, but mark did. he grimaced the moment he saw the driver, his jaw tightening as he clocked the smirk tugging at the corners of the man’s lips.

“stay here,” he murmured, his voice low as he helped you toward the back seat, his hand resting at the small of your back to steady you. the driver’s smirk grew as you stumbled slightly, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. mark’s patience snapped, his eyes narrowing into a glare that could cut through steel. Without a word, he climbed into the cab beside you, his presence filling the small space in an instant. the driver’s smirk faltered, his bravado crumbling under the weight of mark’s glare, and he turned his eyes to the road, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“how much has she had to drink?” the driver asked, his tone casual, though there was an undercurrent of something slimy beneath it, something that made mark’s blood boil. “you’re being paid to drive, not make small talk,” mark snapped, his voice sharp enough to make the driver flinch. silence fell over the cab, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional shuffle of the tires against the pavement. you, oblivious to the tension, rested your head back, your eyes fluttering closed as the night swirled around you. you were out of it, the world fading in and out, each moment blurred by the alcohol in your system. you didn’t notice the way mark was watching you, his gaze softening, his features smoothing as he made sure you were okay.

if you had been more aware, you might have seen it for yourself—something tender in the way he looked at you, something protective. it wasn’t the predatory gaze you had come to expect from men, the one that made you feel small and vulnerable, like something to be taken. no, this was different. this gaze made you feel watched over, cared for. like, for the first time, you weren’t alone. “you’re taking me home?” you slurred, your voice breaking through the fog as you turned to him, disrupting his thoughts. mark glanced down at you, his brow furrowing for a second before he nodded. “yeah,” he said softly, “gonna make sure you get there safely, then i’ll head back.”

you frowned, your eyes half-lidded as you tried to focus on him. “you’re being too nice,” you murmured, your words a little wobbly, childlike. he chuckled, the sound low and rich, a warmth that spread through your chest despite the alcohol’s numbing grip. “this is just the tip of the iceberg,” he replied, teasing but gentle. the cab pulled over in front of your building, the harsh overhead light inside flickering slightly as mark handed the driver his money, glaring one last time before slamming the door shut behind him. he helped you out, his arm around your waist as he guided you toward the entrance. you leaned into him, your steps unsteady, but his grip was firm, holding you upright, never letting you fall.

when you reached your apartment door, you fumbled for your keys, your fingers clumsy as they searched through your bag. you couldn’t find them, frustration bubbling up in your chest, but before you could say anything, he reached in and pulled the keys out for you. he unlocked the door, holding it open as you stumbled inside, expecting—fearing—that this was when things would change. this was when history would repeat itself, when he would become just like the others, just like every man who had ever taken advantage of you in your weakest moments. but it never happened.

instead, he pulled you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both firm and soft, his warmth seeping into your skin. the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of alcohol, filling your senses. there was no pressure in the way he held you, no expectation. just comfort. when he pulled away, he bent slightly at the knees, his eyes level with yours as he spoke, his voice soft but clear. “get some rest, okay?” he said, pausing as his gaze flickered over your face. “we have work tomorrow.”

you nodded, your body too tired, too heavy to respond with anything more. he gave you one final smile, that same smile that had put you at ease earlier in the night, and then he turned on his heel, walking away without looking back. you stood there in your apartment, the door closing softly behind him, your mind struggling to piece together what had just happened. you had expected a lot, but not this. not someone who cared without asking for anything in return. not someone who saw you for more than just how you looked.

the pounding in your head felt like it would split your skull in two. you groaned, dragging yourself upright, the weight of exhaustion heavy in your limbs. the throbbing didn’t let up as you stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in a futile attempt to chase away the hangover. the mirror reflected a face you barely recognized—dark circles under your eyes, skin pale and drawn. it was a far cry from the pristine, polished image you had to maintain in front of the cameras. right now, you were just tired. so tired.

you grabbed the bottle of painkillers from the medicine cabinet, shaking two pills into your hand and downing them with a gulp of water. the cold liquid soothed your dry throat, but it did little to chase away the hollow ache settling in your chest. you drank another glass, hoping it would make you feel less fragile, less breakable. your hands trembled as you set the glass down, the weight of the night before pressing on you, heavy and inescapable.

you wandered back to your bed, sinking into the comfort of the soft sheets, pulling them around you as if they could shield you from the world. but the world had already broken in. with a sigh, you reached for your phone, not ready but too curious to resist. you needed a distraction, something to pull you out of this haze. but as the screen lit up, you felt your stomach lurch. the first headline caught your eye, and the blood drained from your face as you read it.

your dark past—an anonymous ex airing out the ugly details of a relationship you thought you had buried years ago. the words stared back at you, cold and unforgiving, and each one cut deeper than the last. attention-seeking slut, slept her way through the scene and life itself. the accusations swirled around you, each one a dagger to the chest, every headline worse than the one before. it felt like the world was closing in, shrinking around you until there was nowhere left to hide.

you scrolled through the article, your hands shaking, your breath coming faster as the memories you had tried so hard to forget were dragged back into the light. this was worse than anything you could’ve imagined. you had been bracing yourself for the usual scandals—the kind of things models made headlines for. a wardrobe malfunction, a bad night out, maybe a ridiculous diet rumor. but this? this felt personal. too personal. and the worst part was, it was all out there, for everyone to see. you kept scrolling, hoping there was some way to stop the flood of accusations, but it didn’t stop. it never did. your heart pounded in your chest as the articles piled on, one after another, each one worse than the last. you reached the bottom of the page, bracing yourself for another wave of vitriol—but what you found was something different.

a response from your company. you froze, your breath catching in your throat as you saw the name attached to the statement—mark lee. your fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before you clicked. his words were like a lifeline, pulling you out of the darkness for just a second. “her past has nothing to do with her present, her career or her heart,” he had stated firmly. “anyone making defamatory statements will face legal action.”

it was a short, direct statement, but it hit you like a bolt of lightning. mark had acted fast—so fast that it stunned you. you hadn’t even had the chance to process what was happening, but he had already stepped in to protect you, to shield you from the fallout. your company hadn’t hung you out to dry. he hadn’t hung you out to dry. and it wasn’t even morning yet. you let the phone slip from your hand, your heart still racing, but for a different reason now. mark hadn’t just stood by and watched as your name got dragged through the mud. he had taken action, defended you without hesitation. the weight of last night’s events came rushing back—the way he’d walked you home, the way he had been so kind, so careful, without expecting anything in return. and now, this.

how had he managed to do it so quickly, without so much as a second thought? how had he known to step in before things got even worse? you didn’t know, but what you did know was that mark wasn’t like the others. he wasn’t just your new manager. he was someone who had your back. the room felt too quiet, too still, as you lay there, staring up at the ceiling. you couldn’t believe this was the impression you were leaving behind—a model being defended for her humanity rather than her appearance. a woman with someone in her corner, fighting for her, when she had never expected it.

you pulled the front door shut behind you, squinting at the early morning sun filtering through the leaves, casting soft dappled light across the pavement. you adjusted your sunglasses, preparing yourself for the day, your mind still tangled with the weight of the headlines and mark’s words from last night. but as you stepped down the front stairs, something caught your eye—a car parked just a few feet away. the sleek black paint gleamed under the sunlight, and as your eyes adjusted, you saw him. mark, leaning casually against the hood, a small, gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips. “you look like you could use a ride,” he said, his voice carrying over the stillness of the morning.

your heart fluttered, the ease in his tone making the heaviness in your chest feel a little lighter. was it possible for someone to be this kind, this genuine, without asking for anything in return? you hesitated for a moment, still unsure, still caught in the confusion of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. “are you sure?” you asked, trying to mask the uncertainty in your voice. mark rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, but that smile never wavered. “just get in,” he said, moving to the passenger side and pulling the door open for you. he gestured toward the seat, a playful look in his eyes, like he couldn’t understand why you were hesitating.

you gave in, sliding into the car, letting the plush leather seat envelop you. the inside was immaculate—black leather, clean lines, the scent of something warm and subtle, maybe sandalwood, lingering in the air. it was the kind of car that screamed understated elegance, not the flashy, attention-grabbing kind you were used to seeing in this city. everything about it felt intentional, like mark himself, composed and thoughtful without ever needing to prove anything.

as he settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine, you kept your gaze forward, unable to meet his eyes. shame clung to you like a second skin, the weight of yesterday’s headlines still too fresh. but you could feel his eyes on you, watching you in that quiet, gentle way that made you feel both seen and safe. the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words, until mark’s voice broke through. “you saw, didn’t you?” his tone was soft, almost apologetic, like he wished you didn’t have to bear the weight of it.

you swallowed hard, your throat tight as you nodded. “thank you,” you murmured, surprising yourself with how much you meant it. “i’m sorry you had to see those comments.” he paused, pulling out of the driveway, his eyes flicking toward you for a moment before returning to the road. “i can’t believe you’re the one apologizing,” he said, his voice laced with disbelief.

you frowned, confused by his response. “you were the one who had to deal with it,” you said, your voice a little firmer now. “you had to read those comments, engage with them.” mark glanced at you again, just for a second, but there was something in his gaze—something that made your heart ache, though you couldn’t quite place why. “you’re the one they were talking about,” he said quietly, the weight of his words sinking into the air between you.

you bit your lip, the familiar shame rising in your chest. “they didn’t lie about much,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. mark’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “what do you mean?” your fingers fidgeted in your lap, the memories of your past flickering in your mind like painful old photographs. “i slept around when i was younger,” you said, the words tasting bitter as they left your mouth. “i was ashamed. thought i was being loved, but it was the opposite.”

the silence that followed felt deafening. you braced yourself, preparing for the inevitable—a lecture, a judgment, the same disgust you had faced so many times before. you could almost hear the harsh words before they even came, could feel the sting of the shame that would follow. but instead, what came was something else entirely. “so what?” mark asked, his tone matter-of-fact, as if it were the most inconsequential thing in the world. you blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “what?” you asked, your voice small, barely able to comprehend what you had just heard.

he shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “you live, you learn. you make mistakes and move on from them. what about it? why would i hate you for it instead of hunting down those assholes one by one?” you were shocked. completely and utterly floored. you had spent so long believing that your past made you disgusting, that no one could ever look at you the same if they knew. and yet here was mark, looking at you like none of it mattered—like none of it could ever change how he saw you.

“you don’t think i’m disgusting?” you asked, your voice breaking just a little, your heart in your throat. he let out a dry laugh, the kind that held no real humor, only disbelief. “i could never think that about you,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around you like a balm. the tears that had been threatening to spill over finally broke free, but this time they weren’t out of shame. for the first time in a long time, they were tears of relief. a small smile broke through the sadness, and you turned your head to the window, letting the tears fall in silence, feeling something you hadn’t felt in years.

mark’s presence felt like a shield as the crowd of paparazzi closed in around you, their cameras flashing incessantly. you could feel their hands tugging at your sleeves, jostling to get closer, to snap that perfect shot. their voices were a blur, shouting questions, making demands, their lights blinding you through your sunglasses. you froze, feeling trapped in the chaos, your breath catching in your throat.

but he was there, right beside you, his body tense and protective. his arm wrapped around you, and with a low, dangerous tone, he snapped, “back off.” his patience seemed to have worn thin, and his words cut through the air like a knife. the paparazzi hesitated, a few taking a step back, but some were still relentless. mark didn’t falter. he shifted, his hand moving to shield your face from the barrage of cameras, guiding you firmly toward the studio door. no one was getting a glimpse of you—not today, not like this.

by the time you made it inside, your head was spinning, your heart pounding in your chest. you felt exposed, even though he had done everything he could to protect you. as the door clicked shut behind you, the noise from outside was silenced, leaving only the soft hum of the studio’s air conditioning and the quiet, comforting sound of mark’s breathing beside you. “thank you,” you murmured, your voice small, barely audible. his smile was soft, but it reached his eyes as he reached up, gently sliding your sunglasses to the top of your head. his fingers brushed your hair back, and then, with the same tenderness, he removed the mask from your face, revealing the features you’d hidden from the world. “look at you,” he said quietly, his voice warm, “so pretty.”

it was a compliment, but not the kind that made you feel objectified or cheapened. it wasn’t the kind of praise you’d grown accustomed to—words that were always laced with lust, with ulterior motives. this felt different. it felt sweet, genuine. you smiled, feeling the weight of the world lift just a little as you savored the softness of his touch. before you could respond, the director called you into the room. you walked together, side by side, mark never leaving your side. his hand hovered protectively at your back, tracing small, soothing circles that grounded you. the nerves that had gripped you so tightly just moments ago began to ease, the tension in your shoulders melting away with each gentle motion.

as you entered the room, the director didn’t waste any time. “so, about the scandal,” he began, his voice clinical, detached, like it was just another problem to solve. “we need to do damage control.” his gaze flickered between you and mark, and you could feel the weight of his scrutiny. “what do you have in mind?” mark asked, his voice calm, though you could sense the tension simmering beneath the surface.

the director’s next words were like a punch to the gut. “a blind date,” he said, his tone as if it were the most logical solution in the world. “with someone just as famous and prestigious. it’ll take the heat off the story.” your heart sank, your throat closing up. you wanted to object, to say something, anything, but your voice betrayed you. you couldn’t get the words out. why was it always like this? why did you always lose your voice when men made decisions about your life? why did you always fall first, always bend to their will?

but this time, mark spoke up for you. “no,” he said firmly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “she’s not gonna do that.” the director shot him a sharp glance, his brow furrowing in annoyance. “what makes you so sure?” he asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.

he scoffed, the warmth in his expression fading as his hand dropped from your back. “i’m her manager,” he said, his tone cold. “i’m not gonna let you pimp her out to the press over a scandal.” you blinked, stunned by his words. you tugged at his sleeve, trying to get him to stop, terrified that he was digging his own grave by standing up for you. you couldn’t bear the thought of him losing everything because of you, of him falling short just like everyone else had. but he didn’t budge. the director removed his glasses, staring him down. “watch your tone,” he warned, his voice low. “you’re only here because of jaehyun.”

mark smiled, but it wasn’t the warm, playful smile he usually gave you. it was something harder, more condescending, though when he looked at you, that hardness softened. “i’m not,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “i’m here because of her.” his words made your heart skip a beat, a smile tugging at your lips despite the tension in the room.

the director scoffed, clearly unimpressed. “is that so?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. when mark simply nodded in response, the director leaned back in his chair, considering for a moment before speaking again. “fine. then you’ll date her. make it convincing for the cameras.” shock washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless. your eyes widened, your mind reeling. date him? publicly? it was absurd, and yet you couldn’t find your voice to object. you were frozen in place, trying to process what had just been said.

the director dismissed you both with a wave of his hand, as though you were mere pawns in his game. as you left the room, you could feel the anger radiating off mark. not at you, never at you, but at the way the director had reduced you to a tool, something to be used for publicity. it made his blood boil, and you could see it in the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “i’m sorry,” he said as you walked down the hallway together, his voice low, filled with frustration.

you stopped, turning to face him. “you gotta stop apologizing,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his. “i’d rather be your fake girlfriend than anyone else’s.” his lips curved into a small, almost sad smile, but it wasn’t convincing. you could see the guilt still weighing on him, the anger still simmering beneath the surface. but he nodded, accepting your words, even if he couldn’t fully believe them himself. and despite everything, despite the absurdity of the situation, you couldn’t help but smile, too.

the photoshoot dawned bright and clear, the studio awash with sunlight that filtered through large, high windows. the space was a hive of activity, filled with the muted hum of chatter and the clinking of equipment. the walls were adorned with a pristine white backdrop that could be transformed into any setting the imagination could conjure. spotlights were carefully positioned to cast a flattering glow, creating a perfect balance between shadow and light.

you arrived once more feeling a mix of trepidation and anticipation. the scandal was still fresh, its edges raw and jagged, but you tried to set it aside, focusing on the task ahead. the concept for the shoot was a glamorous vintage look—a nostalgic nod to the old hollywood starlets, with a modern twist. the wardrobe was exquisite: a shimmering gown in deep emerald green that hugged your figure before flaring out into a dramatic skirt. the bodice was adorned with delicate beadwork that caught the light with every movement, creating a subtle sparkle that seemed to dance across your skin. your hair was styled in voluminous waves, cascading down your back with a glossy sheen. the makeup was equally flawless—classic winged eyeliner and a nude lip, complemented by a subtle, radiant glow on your cheeks. as you stepped in front of the camera, you felt the energy of the room shift. the crew's murmurs fell silent as they focused on their work, adjusting lights and angles to best capture the vision. mark was there, of course, standing just off to the side. his gaze was fixed on you, and in that moment, it felt as though he was the only person in the room who truly saw you.

the photographer directed you with practiced ease, calling for different poses and expressions. you moved fluidly, slipping into character with a grace that felt almost effortless. the camera clicked rhythmically, its shutter capturing each fleeting moment of your performance. you felt a growing confidence, bolstered by the soft, encouraging murmurs from the crew.

throughout it all, mark’s eyes never strayed from you. his gaze was unwavering, filled with a tenderness that spoke volumes. it wasn’t just that he was watching; he was absorbing, cherishing each glance, each expression. his eyes held a warmth that transcended mere admiration. there was a softness, a depth that suggested he saw something in you that went beyond the surface, beyond the glittering gown and the carefully applied makeup. as the photographer called for a brief break, he approached, his footsteps light, his expression a mix of admiration and something deeper.

he reached out, gently adjusting a stray strand of hair from your face with a touch that was both respectful and intimate. “you’re doing incredible,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm against the backdrop of the studio’s ambient noise. “you’ve got this natural grace about you.” his words were more than just praise; they were a recognition of your essence, of the way you moved and carried yourself. you could see it in his eyes—his admiration was palpable, sincere. it was a gaze that lingered with affection, with a hint of something that bordered on reverence.

the photographer resumed the shoot, and with each click of the camera, mark’s gaze followed, unwavering. there was no objectification in his stare, no hint of lust or superficial desire. instead, it was as though he was seeing you for who you truly were—a person who, despite the chaos and scandal, was captivating, beautiful, and worthy of admiration. there was someone who saw past the headlines and the flashing cameras, who saw you as more than just a face on a magazine cover.

when the session finally concluded, and you stepped away from the set, you felt a profound sense of relief and accomplishment. mark was there to offer you a genuine smile, one that spoke of pride and support. “you were amazing today,” he said, his voice laced with admiration. “i’m really proud of you.” you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you that had little to do with the shoot and everything to do with the way he looked at you.

“so, see you tomorrow?” he asked, his tone warm, laced with a hint of casual curiosity. you hesitated, a fleeting moment of uncertainty crossing your mind. “actually,” you began, “would you like to get lunch with me now? i mean, if you’re not too busy, of course.” you trailed off, feeling a pang of self-consciousness. “i don’t want to impose or sound desperate,” you added quickly, feeling the need to clarify.

mark’s smile widened, a reassuring glimmer in his eyes. “i’d love to,” he replied. “it’s no imposition at all. let’s go.” you felt a wave of relief wash over you as he guided you towards his car. outside, the sun was beginning its descent, casting a golden hue over the city streets. mark’s car—a sleek, black luxury sedan with tinted windows—stood out in the midst of the bustling parking lot. it had an understated elegance, the kind that spoke of both comfort and refinement. the interior was plush, with leather seats that exuded a sense of sophistication.

he opened the door for you and, once you were settled inside, slid into the driver’s seat with practiced ease. his movements were smooth and confident, and as he started the engine, you noticed his demeanor had shifted. he was more focused, more protective, shielding you from the cameras that lingered at the studio’s entrance. his eyes remained sharp, scanning the area to ensure you weren’t bothered.

the drive to the restaurant was marked by a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional hum of street traffic. mark took a scenic route, passing through tree-lined streets and past elegant boutiques, showcasing a side of the city that felt both serene and refined. you glanced at him occasionally, catching glimpses of his profile illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights.

eventually, you arrived at a spot tucked away in a quieter part of the city. its exterior was a blend of modern chic and classic charm, with large windows framed by delicate drapery and a welcoming sign that hinted at the warm atmosphere inside. mark escorted you in, and the hostess, recognizing him, offered a discreet nod and led you to a cozy corner table away from the prying eyes of the street. the restaurant exuded a quiet elegance—soft ambient lighting, tasteful decor featuring muted colors, and a faint, inviting aroma of gourmet dishes being prepared. as you settled into your seat, mark pulled out a chair for you with a courteous gesture, his attention never straying far from you.

over the course of the meal, the conversation flowed easily. his presence was soothing, and his attentive listening made you feel at ease. the menu offered a range of refined dishes, and you both opted for light, comforting fare—fresh salads, tender grilled fish, and a selection of artisanal bread. the food was delicious, but it was the company that truly made the experience special. as you ate, you found yourself opening up to mark in a way you hadn’t anticipated. “you know,” you began, your voice tentative but earnest, “i’ve been used all my life. it’s like people see me as something to exploit, and it’s only made them think less of me.”

mark’s eyes softened as he listened, his gaze attentive and caring. he didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to offer empty reassurances. instead, he simply took in your words, his expression reflecting a mix of empathy and understanding. “i’m sorry you’ve had to go through that,” he said quietly. “no one deserves to be treated that way.”

you felt a lump form in your throat as his words sank in. the vulnerability you had shared was met with genuine compassion, something you hadn’t expected. mark reached across the table, his hand extending to yours with a tender, reassuring touch. “use me,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “use me until you love yourself.”

you were stunned, the weight of his words leaving you momentarily speechless. the promise in his voice was profound, a gesture of support that went beyond mere words. you stared at him, trying to process the depth of his offer. but before you could respond, his hands enveloped yours in a gentle embrace. in that moment, you were acutely aware of the contrast between the performance you had to put on and the genuine connection you were experiencing. the touch of his hands, the way he stroked your fingers with a tenderness that was both comforting and intimate, spoke of something deeper. it was as though the boundaries of your staged relationship were dissolving, giving way to a reality that was more genuine than you had anticipated.

the conversation continued, but the focus shifted to lighter topics. you both shared stories and laughter, the tension of the earlier events seeming to melt away. mark’s presence was a balm, soothing your frayed nerves and providing a sense of security you hadn’t known you needed. as the meal came to an end, he paid the bill, his hand still holding yours as you walked out. the sun had set, and the city lights were beginning to twinkle, casting a warm glow over the streets. you were acutely aware of the contrast between the authenticity of your time with him and the world outside, which seemed to linger with its judgment and scrutiny.

when you reached his car, he opened the door for you once more, his touch gentle and respectful. as you settled back into the plush interior, you couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s events. the lines between your staged relationship and the genuine affection you felt were blurring, and while you knew that you were still performing for the cameras, the moments of sincerity you shared with him were undeniable.

as he drove you back to your house, the evening air outside was crisp, a gentle reminder that the day was drawing to a close. the glow of streetlights cast a warm, comforting light through the windows of the car, creating a cocoon of serenity around you both. the drive was quiet, filled with a comfortable silence that spoke volumes more than words could. when you arrived at your front door, he walked with you, his presence a steady comfort against the backdrop of your otherwise solitary home. the hallway was lit, adding a soft ambiance to the moment. he stopped at your door, his expression softening into a genuine smile as he wished you a good night.

but as he turned on his heel to leave, something inside you surged—a reluctance to let him go, a sudden, overwhelming desire for him to stay. “wait,” you called out, your voice barely above a whisper. “spend the night.”

mark paused, his demeanor shifting as he turned back towards you. the smile on his face faltered, and his gaze became serious, filled with a mixture of tenderness and something you couldn’t quite place. “i can’t do that,” he said softly, almost apologetically. your heart sank. Were you so off-putting to him? was he so disgusted by you that he couldn’t even stay? the thought pierced you, and you had to ask, “why?”

his eyes met yours, and despite the gentleness that still lingered, there was an undertone of something raw and sincere. “because,” he began, taking a step closer, “i don’t think i’ll be able to control myself if i do.”

the distance between you was minimal now, so close that you could almost feel the heat radiating off him. his proximity made your heart race, the thump in your chest loud enough that you thought he might hear it. you swallowed hard, struggling to understand why you felt this way, why he was so close yet seemingly so far. “there are no cameras,” you reminded him, your voice trembling slightly as you attempted to reassure him of the privacy you both had.

mark chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that made your breath catch. “i don’t care about the cameras,” he said, his voice a soothing murmur. “it’s not about that.” the weight of his words, the gentle touch, and the unspoken emotions that seemed to fill the space between you made you feel a sudden surge of vulnerability. you hated yourself for feeling so exposed, for being so willing to give in, to risk it all, and to let someone see you so completely.

in that vulnerable moment, driven by an impulse you couldn’t quite control, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips to his. it was a kiss filled with raw emotion, a desperate plea for connection. to your surprise, mark’s response wasn’t fueled by lust or urgency. Instead, his kiss was tender, patient, as though he was savoring every second. his hands cupped your face with a gentle care, his lips moving against yours with a softness that spoke of deep affection rather than fleeting desire.

when he finally pulled away, it was with a smile that seemed to reflect genuine fondness. “look at you,” he cooed, his fingers lightly ruffling your hair. “so cute.” you frowned slightly, still trying to process the unexpected tenderness. as he leaned against the doorway, his smile widening, you asked, “are you gonna leave?”

mark shook his head, his eyes gleaming with a playful warmth. “no way,” he murmured, his voice filled with determination. “someone has to make sure you get some rest.” the way he spoke, the care in his actions, almost felt surreal. it was as if the affection he showed was almost too good to be true. yet, as he stepped inside, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, you felt the house grow warmer, more inviting with his presence.

he watched you from the couch as you moved around the kitchen, preparing tea. the dim light from the overhead fixture cast a soft glow over you, highlighting the delicate way your hands trembled as you worked. he noticed how thin you looked, the hollowness of your cheeks and the way your clothes hung loosely on your frame. it made him wonder whether this was always the way you were or if it was a consequence of the relentless demands of your career.

“do you need help?” he asked, his voice filled with concern as he stood up and walked toward you. the distance between you seemed to shrink with every step he took. as he approached, he gently took hold of your wrists, guiding your hands to pour the boiling water over the tea bags. the warmth of the steam contrasted sharply with the coldness he felt in his chest as he observed your fragile state.

you turned to face him as you finished, giving him a soft, appreciative smile. “thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. he could see the tremors in your hands, which you tried to hide by gripping the mug tightly. “you’re shaking,” he said gently. “shouldn’t you eat more?”

a sad smile crossed your lips as you shrugged. “i should be eating less.” mark’s smile faded, and he set the mugs back on the table with a determined clink. the realization hit him hard, the idea that you were expected to adhere to a standard that demanded you to shrink, not only in size but in presence. it was unfathomable to him that someone as perfect as you should be subjected to such dehumanizing expectations.

“why did you take up such a job?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and concern. as you sipped your tea, you reflected on the question, your eyes distant as if searching for the right words. “everybody likes the surface,” you said, your smile fragile. “nobody cares about what goes beyond it. it’s always been like that, so i may as well get some money out of it.”

mark’s heart ached at the thought of you being reduced to eye candy, your worth dictated by your appearance rather than your true self. the notion that your life’s goal was to be admired rather than valued for who you were made him sick. “quit your job,” he said abruptly, the words escaping before he could fully process them. you looked at him in shock, the tea still hot on your tongue. “are you crazy?” you asked, incredulous.

he shook his head, his expression earnest but troubled. “quit your job,” he repeated. “you should be doing something you love instead of being everything you hate about yourself.” his words carried a raw truth that stung deeply. no one had ever told you to quit before; it had always been about encouragement, about pushing through. his opposition was startling because it was clear he saw you for more than just your looks, something no one else had done. it clicked for you then—mark was the only person who seemed to understand and care about the essence of who you were beyond the superficial.

“you mean it?” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of hope and disbelief. he didn’t answer with words but instead set his tea down and leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle kiss. the contact was so tender that it made your knees weak, tears threatening to spill over. it was a kiss devoid of urgency, filled with care and an earnest desire to comfort.

when he finally pulled away, his frown deepened at the sight of your tear-filled eyes. “how could anyone be cruel to you?” he murmured, his voice filled with sorrow. “so cruel that you cry at the slightest affection?”

your tears began to fall freely, unable to hold them back any longer. mark, seeing the depth of your pain, gathered you into his arms without hesitation. “don’t cry,” he whispered, though it was the exact thing that made you let go, burying your face in his chest as the tears flowed. he held you tightly, his arms a sanctuary from the world’s cruelties. cry, he thought, let it all out. as if sensing his silent encouragement, you did just that, clinging to him as you let your emotions pour out. for the first time, you felt truly cared for, not for how you looked but for who you were.

as you pulled back from him, your eyes still glistening with the remnants of tears, he reached up with his rough fingers to tenderly brush them away. his touch was surprisingly gentle, the contrast between the coarseness of his hands and the softness of his touch creating an intimacy that felt both intimate and profound. small, reassuring smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked at you, his gaze filled with an affection that was deeply comforting.

you leaned in to kiss him again, but this time, it was different. the kiss was infused with a hunger that transcended the need for love or the fear of loneliness. it was driven by a genuine feeling of being cherished, an intensity that came from truly feeling valued. the kiss full of passion, and you could hear the heavy breaths escaping from him, proof of the fervor that both of you were experiencing. despite the heat between you, mark pulled away, his face flushed, and his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“don’t,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, their closeness adding to the depth of his emotions. the word was almost a plea, a desperate attempt to maintain control despite the overwhelming feelings. you frowned, confused and yearning for more. “why?” you asked, your voice laced with vulnerability.

he shook his head, his fingers gently stroking your hair in a soothing motion. “i don’t wanna be like them,” he whispered. “i don’t wanna break you.”

the sincerity in his voice was audible, his hesitation evident in the way he caressed your hair. the thought of him being so considerate, so concerned about not causing you pain, only made you feel even more secure and cherished. you took a step back, but his fingers remained entangled in your hair, a subtle reminder of his presence and his care. “break me,” you encouraged softly, your eyes locked onto his. “i’m yours to break.”

the words hung in the air, laden with an openness that surprised even yourself. mark’s hesitation deepened. he was overwhelmed by your fragility, the softness in your eyes, and the way you looked at him with such trust. he didn’t want to cause you any harm, didn’t want you to feel used or sullied. “i don’t want you to feel used,” he admitted, his voice betraying his internal conflict. the tenderness in his voice and the way he looked at you with such genuine concern only made you feel more at ease. you didn’t respond verbally; instead, you kissed him again, your hands exploring the contours of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the fabric.

his resolve wavered as he felt the intensity of your touch. his initial urge to hold back dissolved as you made it difficult for him to resist. his arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap, never breaking the kiss. in his mind, he battled with the thought of being gentle versus the desire to give in fully to the moment. his struggle was open, yet he knew he could be gentle, that he could offer you the care and affection you deserved. his thoughts raced as he navigated this delicate balance, his love and concern for you making him want to be as gentle as possible while also embracing the passion that surged between you.

his hands moved from your hair to your shoulders, then down to your breasts, cupping the small mounds of flesh tenderly. you gasped into the kiss as his thumbs brushed over your sensitive nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. his touch grew bolder, kneading and caressing, as you arched into his palms, your desire growing more urgent. the fabric of your shirt was the only barrier, and it was clear that it wouldn’t be enough for much longer.

mark felt your urgency, and his own desire grew stronger. he broke the kiss to gaze into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or fear. all he saw was the same trust and need that had been there before. with trembling hands, he began to unbutton your shirt, one button at a time, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation was present, a heady mix of excitement and emotion that made your heart race. as he undid the last button, his eyes shamefully drifted to the sides of your shirt covering your bare breasts, but he didn’t have time to feel shame, not when he wanted you to feel loved.

his hands slid inside your shirt, pushing the fabric aside to expose your soft, perfect skin. he took a moment to just look, his breath hitching at the sight of your nipples, pebbled and begging for his touch. his eyes filled with tears, not of pain or regret, but of pure love and the depth of his feelings. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice cracking with emotion. you didn’t speak; instead, you leaned in to kiss him again, this time more urgently, your tongue dancing with his, as your hands found the hem of his shirt, eager to feel his bare chest against yours.

his own shirt was soon discarded, and you both sat there, breathing heavily, skin to skin. his strong hands continued to massage your breasts, his thumbs playing with your sensitive peaks, driving you wild with every touch. your own hands roamed over his shoulders, his arms, feeling the strength and warmth of his body. the connection between you was sickening, a silent conversation of love and lust that didn’t need words. “fuck,” you exhaled as his thumbs danced around your erect nipples, kneading the thin flesh of your breasts. you felt ashamed for a second, ashamed at the lack of what you had to offer him, at the dainty size of your breasts. you felt the need to cover up, to hide yourself from him, thinking it wouldn't be enough for him to enjoy. you crossed your arms over your small breasts, a shy look of embrassment in your face, but mark wasn’t having any of it.

his hands gently moved yours aside. “no, baby, don’t hide from me,” he whispered, his eyes filled with adoration. “you’re perfect. absolutely perfect. i love every inch of you, these too,” he said, tracing his fingers over your breasts again. his words were like a balm to your insecurities, a gentle caress to your ego. his warm mouth found one of your nipples, suckling it with surprising gentleness. the sensation was like a lightning bolt straight to your core, and you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. your hands found his hair, threading through the soft strands as he worked his magic on your breasts. the way he looked at you, like you were the most precious thing in the world, made you feel so cherished, so loved. you lacked what other girls could easily offer him, yet he didn’t seem to care.

his other hand found its way down your body, tracing the curve of your waist, over your hips, and down to the button of your pants. with a gentle tug, he encouraged you to lift your hips, allowing him to pull them off. you were now fully exposed to him, vulnerable in a way that was thrilling and terrifying all at once. his eyes took in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your bare pussy, glistening with arousal. he groaned, his own desire thick in the air. “so beautiful,” he murmured, his hand moving to touch you lightly.

his fingertips grazed your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. you moaned, unable to hold back the sound, your legs spreading wider to give him better access. he took his time, teasing and exploring, his touch as tender as if you were made of the most delicate glass. he parted your folds, his finger sliding in easily, feeling the slickness of your arousal. you were so wet for him, and the sight of his finger disappearing into you made him even harder. “you’re so ready for me, fuck, like you were made for me,” he said, his voice full of wonder.

his thumb continued to circle your clit as his finger began to move in and out, his pace increasing gradually. your hips rocked in sync with his movements, the pleasure building inside you like a crescendo. he watched your face, reading your every expression, ensuring that he was giving you exactly what you needed. his eyes never left yours, filled with a fierce love and protection that made your heart swell. you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your breath coming in short gasps, but he wasn’t done yet. he needed to feel you, to have you with him filling you up to the brim.

mark leaned back, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and slid them off. his cock, hard and demanding, sprang free, and you couldn’t help but stare. he was big, much bigger than you had anticipated, and the sight of him made you both nervous and incredibly turned on. he noticed your gaze and smirked slightly, a hint of pride flashing in his eyes. “aren’t scared, are you?” he asked playfully, his voice a seductive whisper.

you shook your head, trying to play it cool despite the nervousness that bubbled up inside you. “not at all,” you lied, your voice a little shaky. he chuckled, his hand moving to stroke himself slowly, the sight of his hand on his cock making your stomach flip. “you sure?” he questioned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. you nodded, your eyes locked onto his hand, watching the way his shaft grew even more as he touched himself. no matter how scared you were, you knew he would take care of you.

mark leaned in, his mouth capturing yours again, his kiss gentle yet filled with a burning need. you felt his hand move away from your pussy and the loss of his touch made you whine into the kiss. but the sound was soon muffled by his groan as he pulled away, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance. the tip of his dick was slick with precum, and you felt a thrill of anticipation as he pushed against you, just the tip teasing you. it had barely grazed your slit, yet you were soaking around him, the sight of it only clouding his mind even more.

his eyes searched yours for any sign of doubt, but all he saw was the same eagerness that reflected his own. with a deep breath, he pushed in, inch by inch, his big cock stretching you wider than you’ve ever been. it was a delicious pain, a sweet agony that you couldn’t get enough of. your nails dug into his shoulders as he filled you up, his gentle strokes becoming deeper, more insistent. your walls tightened around him, trying to hold onto his length as if afraid to let go. “you’re okay, baby, just hold on,” he encouraged softly as you whined, nails clawing at his skin.

his praise, his tenderness, it all felt so overwhelming that tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes. it was too much, too beautiful, and it hurt in the most exquisite way. you nodded, your breath hitching as he reached down to kiss you again, his tongue delving into your mouth as his cock pushed deeper into your pussy. your moans grew louder as he found a rhythm that had you writhing in his lap, your body moving with the gentle ebb and flow of his hips. “look at you, taking me so well,” he cooed at the sight of his cock tucked into the swell of your cunt, his fingers grazing the small creases of your breasts as you tightened around him.

his strokes grew more deliberate, his movements more powerful, yet never crossing the line into roughness. he was worried that his size might be too much for you, so he held back, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible without causing any discomfort. but you could feel the tension in his body, the restraint that was clear in every line of his face, the cords of his neck standing out as he held back. you didn’t want that; you wanted all of him, the beast that lurked beneath his tender exterior. “i can take it, break me, please,” you panted. his hands reached down, your hands wrapping around his, urging him to go deeper, to move faster.

his eyes searched yours, looking for confirmation, and what he saw there was all he needed. he let go of the last of his restraint, his hips moving with more force. your pussy stretched around his thick cock, the feeling of fullness making you dizzy. each thrust was met with a wet slap, the sound echoing in the quiet room, mingling with your cries of pleasure. your walls clenched around him, trying to hold onto him, to keep him deep inside you, to never let him go. his thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles that had you bucking your hips, trying to get closer, trying to get more. he was so sweet, his hair tickling your skin as he wrapped his tongue around your nipple, his tongue probing at the flesh. you wanted to feel insecure, but he was making it impossible.

his hand found yours again, his fingers interlocking with yours, as if to remind you that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. the connection was strong, and it only grew stronger with each passing moment. your orgasm was approaching like a freight train, and you could feel it building in the pit of your stomach. your breath grew shallower, your eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in the feeling of him inside you. his free hand was in your hair, tugging gently, his teeth grazing your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

his thrusts grew deeper, and the pressure on your g-spot was intense. you felt yourself tightening around him, your pussy gripping him like a vice. “cum for me, baby, cum on my cock,” he whispered in your ear, his voice a seductive rumble that sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body. the words alone were enough to send you over the edge, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. your body tensed, your pussy pulsing around him as you screamed out his name, your eyes squeezed shut, tears of joy streaming down your face.

his own orgasm was building, the feel of you tightening around him was too much. with one final, deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, groaning as he released his seed, filling you up without a single thought of protection. he watched as your body trembled with the aftershocks of your climax, his heart racing with the intensity of his own feelings. the sight of you, coming apart in his arms, was more than he could handle. his own eyes filled with tears, his love for you so overwhelming that he couldn’t help but cry with you.

he held you tightly as he pulled out, his cock still hard and glistening with your juices. his hand moved to stroke your hair, his eyes never leaving your face. “i love you,” he whispered, the words coming out in a choked sob. the weight of his emotions was palpable, and you felt your own heart swell in response. you leaned into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his cum leaking out of you, a testament to the intimacy you had just shared. “i love you too,” you whispered back, your frail fingers wiping away the tears that stained his cheeks.

there was no shame in it anymore. there were no cameras waiting to capture the moment, no witnesses. there was nobody but the two of you. there were no mocking looks or harsh words to battle your self-esteem, nothing to fuel your insecurities. he was as raw as you were, but he was stronger than you. he didn’t cry because of the sex, he cried because of the love. you weren't too sure about a happy ending just yet, but a beginning was more than you could’ve asked for.

✧*.

a/n: to the doll that requested, hope u know ur absolutely perfect no matter what. never let anybody’s subjective opinion or the standards perpetuated dictate how beautiful you are and how beautiful you should feel. this goes to anybody reading, because i know there’s too many of you scrolling through tiktok and thinking, “why cant i look like that?” or “why do i have hip dips, why doesn’t my ass looks like that, why does she look like that and i don’t?” i promise all of your insecurities are illusions purposely projected by the media to make you give into what they’re feeding you. no, starving yourself won’t make you beautiful. neither will overused lips fillers or heavy botox or that botched bbl. there’s nothing wrong with the way you look, there never was and there never will be. cherish every part of yourself, you never know who may be looking at you and wishing they had what you do.

[jaeminbunzz]

hi! what about texting dreamies after a fight?

nct dream texting you after an argument

hii i'm back I tried combining this request and another one I recieved asking for y/n to be stubborn and make them really angsty but turns out I'm very bad at being stubborn I'm sorry I hope you still like these

[yangqism]

we can't be friends | liu yangyang

actor!liu yangyang x actress!femreader

synopsis.yangyang is born to be a star, the kind of talent that lights up the screen. you, on the other hand, is a nepo baby who everyone believed got the lead role because of your family’s influence. he fought all these years to be the man that he is while you are still busy proving yourself to the populace. you believe you’re more than just your parents. he believes he’s less than without his fans. when your lives become intertwined, things get messy–one has never tasted consequences while the other lies awake at night, haunted by the thought of it.

genre. romance, angst

warnings. there's pretend kissing then there's real kissing where yangyang doesn't ask you, he just goes for it, i do not know the difference between drama and series so sorry <3

words. 8,812

eternal sunshine. masterlist

a/n. it gets better at the ending part so plZ just bear w me. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! I'm turning 20 this year lol feels so scary if you think about it but whatever

The universe is unfair, but Yangyang has learned to live with that. 

It was unfair that he always played second to someone else. The second male lead, the second-best choice, the second most important. But he was never really bothered about it. Not until you waltzed your way into the picture. 

You still remember it vividly. It was a Monday afternoon, the first read through with the cast of Eternal Sunshine–a week before filming. He was already sitting beside the chair assigned to you, practicing his lines diligently while you took a sip from your coffee you ordered to-go. 

You greeted him with a warm smile but he only replied with a small and rushed one. Sure, he was your second lead in the drama but during that time, he made you feel unwanted. But who are you kidding? Of course, you were everything he wasn’t supposed to want. You’re the female lead, the one who would be with the male lead in the end. The center of attention. Realistically, you’re a nepo baby whose life had been handed to her on a silver platter, complete with designer shoes and an unearned (still) spotlight. But God, did you wear it well.

Whereas Yangyang had to work his way up. Every step of his journey was carved out of his determination and long nights filled with self-doubt, management’s uncertainty, and the media’s scrutiny. He wasn’t handed anything the first time he breathed in the land of showbiz. Every opportunity, recognition, and spotlight he’s getting right now is because he persevered. 

That’s what made sitting next to you on that Monday afternoon so excruciating. 

While he did smile to your way in a rushed manner, he viewed you as a person far differently than other people did when they looked your way. You were effortless in his eyes. Effortless in a manner that he could never be. Even in the most mundane moments like you sipping on your coffee, standing up to bow to anyone who comes in the script room, scrolling through your phone–you carried yourself with an air of belonging, like you had been born to inhabit the world he had clawed his way into. 

And yet, it wasn’t jealousy that twisted his chest when he looked at you. Heck, it was something worse. 

No matter how much he tried to deny it, when your mouth opened to read the script, Yangyang knew exactly what you were capable of. You weren’t just a nepo baby or some random female lead that the crew casted. You were the kind of actress everyone aspires to be. And also the kind of person who could uproot everything he’d worked so hard to build.

You first met Yangyang at a press conference after an award show your parents were invited for and you were their plus one. The journalist decided to pick on you, asking you pressing questions regarding your status in the industry. 

“What do you feel that everyone’s calling you a nepo baby, Ms. Y/N?” Well, you almost wish the journalist hadn’t called you ‘Miss’ if his question was like that. 

You just smiled at him awkwardly, never giving in to their pressing questions about your relevance in the acting industry. Afterall, you believe you’re more than just your parents. Sure, they opened this path for you but you’re working hard to show to everyone that you deserve that spot. 

You never really paid attention to the young actor during that time but you saw him looking at you while you were being interrogated by the rude journalist. Your eyes met for a brief moment before he broke it to talk to another actor. 

At first, Yangyang didn’t feel bad for you during that time, considering how he thought you were an annoying actress, like what he had heard from rumors. 

“Miss Y/N, what’s with you today? You keep on failing the scene,” the director yells another disappointed ‘cut!’ after you fumbled your lines with a scene with Sicheng. “Let’s take 5!” 

“I’m sorry, Sicheng,” you gave an apologetic smile to the star actor but he just shrugged and went to his assistant to freshen up. 

If there was one thing you loved about working with Sicheng, it was because he doesn’t really care about where you came from or what you did to become his female lead. He’s just there for work. A bonus is that he treats you nicely, he’s just nonchalant at times. Especially when that pop star comes into the set. 

“You’re too stiff, Y/N,” the sudden voice from behind your back startled you. You whip around to see Yangyang leaning casually against a prop stand, arms crossed and an amused grin tugging at his lips. 

“Your body’s too tense, that’s why you keep messing up,” he points out, tilting his head. “I saw it when you were delivering your lines.”  

“Oh, Yangyang-sunbaenim! I see, I’ll try to deliver these lines as smoothly as possible,” you replied, giving him a small smile.

“Practice it to me.” 

“Huh?”

“Practice your line to me and I can give you feedback, dummy,” Yangyang reiterated, his tone filled with playful impatience.

“O-oh! Uhm…” You focus, taking a deep breath before looking directly into his eyes, “Lei… I don’t think you can understand me… I don’t think we’re… we’re…” Your voice falters right where it did before. You clench your jaw, trying to force the words out, but they just won’t come. 

Your shoulders drop as you let out a sigh of defeat, “I don’t think I can do this,” you admit, your voice barely a whisper but Yangyang heard it. 

“You think you can’t because you want Lei and Riko to be together. You’re so immersed in your role right now, Y/N,” Yangyang scolded, giving you a bottle of water from his staff. 

“This isn't real, Y/N. You need to separate work and your personal feelings. If you want Lei and Riko to be together, they will in the end. Just not in this scene. Get yourself together and wrap this scene up so we can all go home,” he reaches up, ruffling your hair like you’re a little kid on the set, and before you can even process what he did, he’s already walking away, hands shoved in his pockets heading straight to annoy Kun.

“Separate work and personal feelings, huh?” You muttered, staring at the water he gave you. His words echo in your mind, louder than the busy mumbles of the crew around you. Maybe what he said is true considering how you can’t bear to think that Lei, Sicheng’s character, and Riko, your character, will end their love escapade for a few episodes before rekindling again.

“Y/N, Sicheng, back on stage!” The director yelled, giving you a brief smile before instructing the cameraman. “Do your best.” 

You nod, tightening your grip on the water bottle before setting it aside. Your feet move automatically, carrying you toward the place you’ll be delivering your line in. As you’re heading to your place, you can feel Yangyang’s eyes on you. 

You looked in his direction and he already had his signature gummy smile plastered on his face, “Do your best,” he mimicked the director’s voice, making you giggle.

It was a week after the first shooting for Eternal Sunshine that the director called you in her office for an emergency revision for the later episodes. 

You were wearing your favorite faded jeans with a long sleeve and a coffee on your hand. At first, you thought it was just gonna be you and the director but a sleepy Yangyang came into her office like it’s his second home.

“Greetings, Yangyang!” The director annoyingly scolded him, throwing a pillow at him when he immediately latched himself onto the sofa. 

“Hello, noona. Hello, Y/N.” 

“I’m very sorry about him, Ms. Y/N,” his manager, Huang Renjun, apologized on behalf of the second male lead. “He just came from an overnight shooting with Mr. Qian Kun. The two of them had to shoot their scenes more than once because the rookie actor kept messing up and they didn’t want to be assholes on set.” 

“Hey! What about an apology for me?” The director playfully demanded even though she had known the reason for Yangyang’s behavior beforehand. The director was like family for Yangyang and Renjun. This isn’t the first project they did together hence they’re comfortable with each other.

“As he said, Kun-ge,” Yangyang mentioned the golden boy and the three immediately saw the flabbergasted reaction of the director. “Kun-ge, Kun-ge, Kun-ge, Kun-” Yangyang teased, his smile grew wider as the director’s face became more embarrassed before having enough of his ministries. 

“Enough, second lead!” The director sassed, “I called you here today because there’s a change in the storyline we’re going to record for tomorrow,” she started as her assistant gave you and Yangyang the copy of the revised script and concept for the shoot. 

As you skimmed the pages, you realized that you and Yangyang’s character will be in close proximity, fully giving justice to his second male lead role. “As you can see, Riko and Jun will be closer to each other after Lei’s and Riko’s fall out. Of course, this will be brief as the latter couple will get back together,” she explained. “I just want the both of you to prepare yourselves. I know that the both of you have the least interaction throughout this series but you need to prepare… like, prepare,” she emphasized before adjourning the meeting, leaving you dazed. 

“After reading this script, I think Riko will fall harder for Jun than Lei,” you joked, already feeling the pressure as you saw a scene where you and Yangyang had to kiss. 

“Will you?” Yangyang asked, his tone was interrogating. 

You tilted your head, confused with what he meant, “Will I what, sunbaenim?”

But he just shrugged, telling you to prepare for tomorrow before leaving the office.

The ride on the way home was unusually quiet. 

“What do you think of him?” Your manager, Chenle, asked you.

“Of who?”

“Of Yangyang.”

You tried to think about what to say for a moment, “Well, he’s nice to me.” 

“That’s it?” Chenle glanced at you through the rearview mirror, one brow arched. “Nice? He’s Yangyang, Y/N. Everyone I heard who worked with him can’t get him out of their heads after.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head against the window. “He’s good at what he does. Professional. Maybe those people can’t separate work from their personal lives or whatever.”

“Professional, huh?” You can hear the smirk from Chenle’s tone.

“Just stop overthinking things, Chenle,” You sighed, dumping all of your body weight on the car seat. “Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day with him so you better not make any weird comments like whatever this conversation is.” “There’s nothing weird with the conversation we’re having, Y/N.” Chenle retorted, “I’m just hoping you could come to your senses tomorrow and do your best as an actress. You still have a lot to prove in the industry.”

“I know that.”

It’s tiring, honestly. For you, it’s a never ending quest of ‘proving’ yourself to the industry, general public, and your own family. It’s sad to think about how as a child, everyone was looking forward to your acting debut but once you did, all the nepotism news bombarded your career hence, you’re now known as the ‘nepo’ baby. 

You used to think of it as a positive thing, you never forgot to thank your parents in every interview for this opportunity as an actress because you know, since as a kid, that this is the path meant for you. It’s like you’re honoring them every chance you have but the public deemed it as ‘rubbing your nepotism face’ every chance you get. 

In the end, this whole issue got out of hand and you don’t mention your parents as much as you used to, even coming as close to declining films where they are starring in or in affiliation with in fear of the nepotism thing getting even bigger. 

The next day on set had this heavy atmosphere not usually there when it’s you and Sicheng filming. You think it’s probably with the revised script that got everyone on their edge because the crew were everywhere, ensuring all of the props and sets are nice and perfect for your shoot. 

It was also during this time that you realized the scene you’re about to do. 

It’s the middle part of Riko and Jun’s relationship where they kiss because they realized they love each other, only for a short period of time, and it ought to feel magical or else people would believe that Riko’s still in love with Lei and is using Jun but in the script, Riko’s in love with Jun, even if it’s just for a brief period. 

The director deemed it easier for the both of you to finish the hard scenes first before the others so as to ensure smooth filming in the later days of the schedule, considering that Yangyang and other actors in this series also has other schedules. 

“Relax,” Yangyang’s voice broke through your thoughts as you couldn’t shake your nerves.

First day with Yangyang as your character’s lover and you’re already about to kiss. What’s there to not be nervous about? 

He was leaning against the makeup station, dressed amazingly by his stylist. You think of his presence as effortless but right now, there’s a glint of something in his eyes–quiet yet intense. 

“I’m trying, sunbae,” you replied, turning to face him.

He stepped closer to where you are, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “You’re overthinking it, Y/N. It’s just a scene. We’re professionals, remember?” 

You nodded, but your hands were still trembling slightly. Yangyang saw your state and sighed. “Nepo babies,” he teased as he shook his head before giving you again a bottle of water. “Take a sip, madam. It will make you feel better.”

“I’m sorry for feeling nervous, sunbae.” You apologized as you took a sip from the water he gave you. “It’s just that… it’s my first kissing scene ever and I’m not familiar with the grounds for kissing in a scene.” you admitted. 

Yangyang’s smile was wide and charming as he listened to your confession, “Don’t worry, sunbae will guide you.”

It was show time and the director called you and Yangyang in for a brief summary again. 

“Look,” Yangyang said to catch your attention, “Think of this scene as an important moment for Jun and Riko. They came from heartbreaks and found comfort from each other,” he gave you an advice, “It’s like their enlightenment scene where they kiss and suddenly, all is well.”

You stared at him, trying to gauge what he had just said. “I’ll do my best,” you said shyly, offering him a small smile before walking to the center.

“I know you will,” Yangyang replied, his gummy smile returning. 

“Okay, lovebirds for a glimpse,” the director called. Lovebirds for a glimpse is you and Yangyang’s new nickname on set because of this RikoJun scene you’re doing. “Kiss your way!” was all she said before giving the both of you the cue. 

As the scene began, you convinced yourself that this isn’t about you. This is about Riko finding love again after what happened with Lei. This is her first kiss with someone who comforted her. And with that, you found yourself more at ease. 

Yangyang’s character approached yours, his eyes showed vulnerability and it almost felt too real when his orbs directly looked into yours. The lines flowing out of his mouth smoothly, as if he meant them. 

And when the moment came, when Jun leaned in and Riko didn’t pull away, it was like the rest of the world disappeared. 

The kiss was soft, hesitant, and lingering–exactly as it was supposed to be. Yangyang held your head with such gentleness while your hands found their way to his back, trying to get him closer to your body. 

You know it’s just pretend kissing but part of you wished it was real with the way Yangyang was holding you and your proximity, his warmth made you feel small in a way that is not condescending. He made you feel safe. 

When the two of you break the kiss, your eyes meet again. This time, you definitely went out of character as you looked at him deeply, fully portraying Riko’s yearning for him. Her ‘I found you’ moment. 

“Cut!” The director yelled ecstatically. “That was such a good scene!” 

You thanked the director while your mind was still in a daze as Yangyang gave you a small, reassuring nod–as if saying that you did well. You couldn’t help but give the actor a smile in return. 

As the crew buzzed around you again, you caught Chenle’s gaze from the sidelines. He raised a brow, smirking at your direction as if he knew something you didn’t. 

And maybe, he did. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Between the countless takes, script changes, and the director’s endless feedback, you barely had time to process anything. Except when Yangyang was in the same room as yours. You admire how his presence seems to fill every corner, tugging at your attention no matter how hard you try to focus on anything else. 

By the time you wrapped up for the day, your body ached from exhaustion, and all you wanted was to crawl into bed. At this time, you thoroughly expected a grumpy Chenle waiting for you in your dressing room but you were taken aback with what you got instead.

It was Yangyang, leaning against the wall near your dressing room, scrolling through his phone like he’s your boyfriend waiting for you to finish your shoot… you mean, what?

You hesitated to greet him but he looked up at you before you could even decide.

“Y/N,” he greeted, “Chenle’s out with Renjun. Figured I’ll wait for you instead, considering how late it is now.”

“Oh,” you mentally cursed your manager, your inner monologues filled with ‘How dare he’ and ‘How could he’. “It’s fine, sunbae. I can manage on my own.” 

Yangyang slipped his phone into his pocket, standing up straight in the process. “No, nepo baby. You’re gonna be with me until you enter the backdoor of your apartment.” 

You’re too tired to decline a persistent Yangyang that you just nodded before heading to the parking lot. “Long day,” you sighed, leaning into the car seat of Renjun’s van. 

“Tell me about it,” he responded as he started driving. 

You glanced at him, surprised, “I almost forgot! Aren’t you supposed to be staying for the night shoot?”

“Nah, Kun’s taking over because of changes again. Figured the director would have also preferred it that way,” he laughed as his hands smoothly maneuvered the steering wheel. 

You giggled at his response, “Sounds about right.” 

The two of you drove in an awkward silence for a while, the cold air conditioning of the van touches your body, making you shiver. 

“So,” he said eventually, looking at you for a brief period in his rearview mirror. “How’d it feel? The scene, I mean.”

You bit your lip, avoiding his brief glances at your place. “I don’t know,” you started, “It felt different… I don’t think I can find the right words to describe it right now, really.” 

You try to brush off his question with a laugh but you know deep inside your heart that you couldn’t just tell him you wished that the kiss was real. That you wish there was something more and that his glances at you earlier meant something. 

“But your advice did help a lot!” You tried changing the topic which you think was effective after he gave you a smug chuckle in return. 

“Told you.”

There was something easy about talking to him like this, away from the cameras and the crew and everything.

While driving, Yangyang made sure to take all the precautions he needed so as to not get caught with you in his manager’s van. Sure, he’s being friendly and acting like a dependable sunbae to you but he can’t afford being caught in a scandal, not with you. 

When you reached your destination, he made sure to contact the security to ensure no one was there before letting you go. 

“Thanks for earlier, sunbae! I don’t think I would’ve gotten through it without your reassurance.” 

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment before giving you a soft smile. “You would’ve been fine, with or without my advice. Give yourself some credit.” 

You stood frozen in the middle of your apartment’s parking lot at the sudden compliment. “Anyway, Y/N, get some good rest as tomorrow will be just as crazy as today.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “You too, sunbae, you too.”

By the time you reached your unit, you were surprised to see Chenle’s outdoor shoes in the entryway. 

“Yangyang said you’re out with Renjun,” your face turned sour at the sight of Chenle chilling on your sofa. “What a bad manager you are!”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I left the restaurant earlier than Renjun.”

You didn’t mind what he said and went directly to your room to change. When you come back to your living room, he’s still in the same spot you left him a while ago. 

“What do you think of him now?” He asked again. This time, you already know who he was referring to. 

“He’s still fine and I still don’t understand why you’re doing this,” you rolled your eyes, joining him at your sofa. 

“He looks at you like you’re the lead of more than just the show, Y/N,” Chenle said slyly. 

“You’re overthinking things again, Chenle. Yangyang-sunbae is nice. I think we just have a good hoobae-sunbae relationship that’s why you’re acting like that,” you defended the actor. 

“I hope you’re right,” was all he said before placing all of his attention back to the television. 

At this point, you hope you’re right. 

It’s been a week since you spent time with Yangyang, filming the scenes for RikoJun and today, you guys are wrapping it all up–they’re gonna end their relationship and Lei will come back into the picture. 

“Missed me, Y/N?” Sicheng teased you. 

It’s also been a week since you last saw Sicheng, considering how busy he had gotten with his modelling gigs and sneaking out the pop star every night to his condominium. 

“You wish,” you retorted. 

“I heard you and Yangyang have a great chemistry,” he said again, his arms crossed to his chest.

“I like to think we do, too!” You gleefully replied, “His advice helped me a lot, especially during the heavy scenes we have together.”

Sicheng looked at you, “Mhm. I hope we still have that spark together after your time with him.”

Everyone on set was perplexed as to why Yangyang’s watching your scenes with Sicheng now, considering how he doesn’t have any upcoming shoots with you or with other actors of the drama today.

“Yang? Why are you here?” The director asked, completely puzzled to see the young man on set.

“Just wanna watch some of my colleagues, noona,” he showed off his gummy smile before proceeding to sit at the chair where the intern is supposed to sit. 

“Back off, Liu. The intern’s assigned there,” Hendery hissed, giving Yangyang a side eye before watching the younger one go away from the seat.

“Chill, Wong.” 

But Hendery didn’t give him any more attention, walking back to his van again to wait for the director’s orders. 

“Woah! What a tense situation you got there, Yang!” The director saw what happened, grinning ear to ear at Yangyang. 

“Shut up, noona. Why you gotta hire that man, anyways?”

“Well, he’s a good actor and he’s not rude to me,” 

“Whatever,” was all he said before looking for another seat to conquer.

After your shoot, you saw Yangyang outside your van, leaning against it while busying himself with his cellphone.

“Sunbae?” 

“Oh, Y/N. Already finished?” He asked, his eyes filled with joy as soon as he saw you in front of him. 

“Yeah. Why are you here, sunbae?” 

“N-nothing, Y/N. Have a great day.” 

You found it weird that Yangyang’s in front of your van yet left when you arrived but you didn’t divulge deep into the thought as your manager’s already waiting for you inside. 

“He was waiting for you,” Chenle told you the moment you sat on the leathered seat. “I thought he’s going to ask you out or something.”

“Please stop, Chenle. I know you like joking about stuff like that but he’s just a nice sunbae, that’s all!” 

“Drop the act, Y/N. I know you like him.”

This time, he’s right.

It started with the kiss scenes then the lovey-dovey shootings then came the drive-you-home extravaganza. Everything about Yangyang screams boyfriend for you. When he’d smile at you like you’re his most favorite thing in his world or when you’d be the only one he’d give techniques and advice on set, you knew what Chenle said about the man is right. 

At first, you were in-denial about it. Thinking that maybe you’re thinking this way about Yangyang because you can’t get your shit together and that you’re acting unprofessional. But, you know yourself. All this time, you are professional and diligent but his acts towards you aren't. 

Now, you’re here watching his character meet up with a new character the director added on a whim, saying something along the lines of ‘I’m sad Yangyang’s character didn’t have a partner.’

“Cut!” The director shouted, “That was a good run! Thank you, everyone!” 

The moment your eyes locked in with Yangyang, he immediately walked your way, not minding the new female character in his vicinity. 

“You were great out there,” you complimented. 

“Thanks,” he looked up before looking right into your eyes again, “But that’s just an act you know, what you saw earlier.”

“...I know?” You laughed. Of course, you know. You’re an actress for god’s sake!

“Just… saying,” he responded. “Anyways, are you free? Do you want to hangout with Sicheng and the rest?” 

You thought he’s about to ask you out on a date but Sicheng’s name flew out of his mouth and made your mood a bit down. 

“Sure, I’d love to,” you replied, opening your SMS app to message your manager about the said gathering.

You were about to sit beside Yangyang when the new actress beat you to it and told you to sit between Sicheng and Hendery. 

“It’s more fun if we sat beside our partners in the drama!” She suggested but you knew she just wanted to sit besides Yangyang. 

The table was tense, with the actress giving Yangyang a lot of food on his plate while you and the rest were quietly looking at the both of them. 

“I told Yangyang not to invite the newbie,” Hendery murmured. 

“Wouldn’t that be bad?” You asked, surprised he even talked to you. 

“So what? He could tell her I’m the one who suggested it.”

“That would be bad for you, then.”

“Everyone knows I’m bad. Much better for her to experience it sooner.’ 

You wanted to continue the conversation with Hendery more but he was clearly preoccupied with his ramen.

“That’s Hendery for you,” Sicheng smiled. “Here, get some of the beef I cooked.” 

“Thank you, Sicheng,” you thanked him as he put some cooked beef into your plate. 

From time to time, Yangyang kept on glancing at you while the new addition to the crew kept on pushing herself to the man. He was being uncomfortable because even though they rented a private section of this restaurant, rumors can still go and he can’t afford to have that. 

“He’s looking at you, Y/N,” Sicheng said, as if you hadn’t noticed it earlier. 

“I know, oppa. It feels weird.”

“Miss Y/N, you haven’t been touching your plate. Is everything alright?” Dejun asked rather loudly and everyone’s eyes on you now which made you feel small, especially when Yangyang’s gaze turned concerned. 

“Yes, Dejun-sunbae. I just feel full now,” you smiled at his direction which is a bit to the left whereas you were in the middle. 

“I’ll finish your food, Y/N. Give it to me,” Yangyang suddenly said, his right hand in your direction, waiting for you to give him your plate. 

“But–”

“Sicheng-ge, give me her plate,” you swear you could hear the newbie disagreeing with Yangyang but he didn’t mind.

Sicheng, being the biggest shipper of you and Yangyang, gladly followed the younger’s request. 

“Thank you, Yangyang-sunbae,” you said, eyes glinting with affection that everyone on the table didn’t miss. 

Of course, the both of you may not notice your deep fondness towards each other but everyone around you can feel it–they just don’t want to meddle with it. 

After everyone finished eating, you guys decided it would be better to part ways with each other and when the cast vanished into the busy streets of Seoul, you found yourself alone with Yangyang. 

“At last,” Yangyang jokingly said, nudging you playfully with his elbow while grinning from ear to ear. “At last, I can be with you alone!” 

Your heartbeat raced as you tried finding a reasonable response to him. “Don’t say that, sunbae!” 

“Why? Don’t you want to spend time with me?” 

“I like being with you, Yangyang-sunbae,” you responded, your tone was heartfelt but your execution was shy. 

Yangyang glanced at you for a while before forcing you to look back up at him, his fingers found your chin, racing it up so you could meet eye to eye. “I’ve been meaning to tell you this, Y/N.” 

“Mhm?” 

“You can stop calling me sunbae, you know,” he continued, “Just call me Yangyang, like everyone does.”

“But I don’t like calling you the way they do,” you argued, your lips forming a firm line. 

He just laughed at your stubbornness before ruffling your hair. 

“Okay, nepo baby. Just call me whatever you want,” he smiles at you genuinely, never getting tired of your little habits. 

“Okay, my dearest sunbae,” he laughs again this time but you truly meant what you had said. 

Sure, you might have other sunbae than him that you look up to and respect the most but none of them is Yangyang. None of them can make you feel the way he makes you feel. To you, he’s irreplaceable. 

Yangyang’s presence is a constant in your day as an actress. He’s always there, watching your scenes and cheering you on every chance he gets. He would also lean over your script, pointing out notes with an exaggerated seriousness that makes you not pay attention to him.

“You know, I could just ask the director,” you say, snatching the paper back.

“But I’m more fun,” he whines, leaning back with a pout. 

Then there are the quieter moments, like when you’re both reviewing scenes on his tablet, shoulder’s brushing as you sit close enough to share the screen. Or the way his hands would instinctively hand you a water bottle before you could even realize you’re thirsty. 

Or when he would always stay up late at night, waiting for you to wrap up your shoot before bidding you goodbye, watching you go inside your van before minding his own way home.

“Sunbae, you don’t have to wait for me everytime,” you say one evening as he lingers beside the director’s chair, watching you finish your last take for the day.

“And miss seeing you trip over your lines when you’re tired? No thanks,” he teased, flashing you a mischievous grin. 

You rolled your eyes at him, tossing a tissue towards his direction which he dodges with a dramatic flair. 

Moments like this have become the norm, not just to you but to everyone else. 

Everyone on set notices it. The way Yangyang’s eyes soften when he talks to you, the way your laughter is always louder in his presence. It’s in how he seems to move with you, like gravity itself pulls him into your orbit. 

“They’re so obvious,” the director complains jokingly. 

“Would you say anything, though?” Kun asked with a hushed tone, glancing at you both from across the room.

“Hell no.” 

To the crew, it’s an open secret that no one dares to talk about. To you and Yangyang, it’s just the way things are. 

And Chenle’s really worried for you.

You’re sitting in the dressing room, scrolling mindlessly on your phone while Chenle organizes your schedule for the following months. The buzzing voices and footsteps of the crew fades as you stand up for a while to close the door, creating a rare moment of peace and solitude in your otherwise hectic day, before sitting comfortably again. 

Chenle sets his laptop down on the table with a deliberate thud, breaking the comforting silence.

“We need to talk, Y/N,” he says, his tone filled with urgency.

You glance up, already sensing the shift in his usual sunny demeanor. “What is it this time?” You asked, trying to lift his mood up but it seems like your manager has no time for jokes or any of your ministrations. 

“It’s about Yangyang.”

You look at him puzzled, “What about him?” 

Chenle crossed his arms, his expression was stern. “Whatever’s going on between you two, it’s too much. Everyone on set sees it.” 

“So what if they do? People talk all the time,”you counter, feigning nonchalance, though your heartbeat races and you feel a knot tightening in your stomach. 

“This is serious, Y/N,” his tone now direct, “This isn’t just about people talking. You’re putting your reputation and his career at risk!” 

You roll your eyes at what he had said, leaning back in your chair. “Chenle, it’s not that serious. Even if something happens, my parents can fix it. They’ve done it before. Don’t worry.” 

“See? That’s exactly the problem Y/N,” he snaps, “You’re so used to your parents cleaning up after you that you don’t even see how dangerous this is for him,” you could tell his frustration is boiling over but you don’t seem to understand why he’s angry. “Sure, you can tell everyone how you’re so much more of your name or your parents. You can decline any movies or series with their name, but that action of yours. This action of yours is why people still think you’re a nepo baby.” 

Your eyebrows furrow, feeling confused. “I’m not doing anything wrong, Chenle. I’m sure Yangyang knows how to handle himself.”

“Does he?” Chenle laughs at your naivety. “Do you have any idea how hard he’s worked to get here? He doesn’t have the privilege of a safety net like you, Y/N,” he pauses for a moment, trying to catch his breath. “One scandal, one rumor, and everything he’s built is gone.”

You’re quiet for a moment. The weight of his words made you understand where he’s coming from but your response only deepened the rift. “Okay, fine. If it comes to that, I’ll handle it. My parents will definitely make sure nothing happens to him either. I’m sure of it.” 

Chenle was cynical after hearing what you have just said. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about who your parents can pay off. It’s about respect. Respect for his work, his sacrifices, his entire life!” 

Outside the door, Yangyang stands frozen, his hand stuck on the knob. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on you and Chenle’s conversation, he just wanted to hang out with you today but instead, he got to hear your careless and out of touch words, making his chest tighten. 

He hears Chenle’s voice lower, ultimately giving off the vibes that he’s intensely irritated at what you have said. “You’re so caught up in thinking everything will be fine because it always is for you. But for him? It’s not. And if you really care about him, you’d stop pretending this isn’t a big deal. Stop whatever is going on with you two, Y/N.” 

Yangyang doesn’t want to hear anymore of what you guys are talking about. His stomach churns as he walks away, Chenle’s words and your indifference playing over and over in his head.

The ride home was quiet but not the quiet you wanted to have with Chenle. You genuinely can’t understand why he’s so exasperated with you when you’re just telling the truth. You can’t seem to find the problem with your parents paying off tabloids and threatening news agencies to keep the rumors about you and Yangyang out of the public eye.

And maybe, just maybe, the reason why you can’t find the problem with what you have said is because you’d never truly had to worry about the consequences of your actions. For you, it was simple: if things went wrong, you had the means to make it right.

“Chenle,” you finally broke the silence, your voice softer now. “I didn’t mean to upset you earlier. I thought I was being practical, you know? Looking out for everyone… I don’t know. Maybe I’ve missed something.” 

Chenle’s hand tightened around the steering wheel of the van and you could see the tension in his shoulders. “It’s not just about you, Y/N,” he said, “It’s about Yangyang too. You have no idea how much risk he had put out on himself just so you could be close with him the way you are with him now. How he’d probably be in his bed every night, thinking when or where news would break out about you two but still continue to act like your lover day by day. You have no idea how much he’s risked for you and here you are, thinking everything can be handled with a few phone calls from your parents.” 

His words stung more now, the sharpness of them cutting through your confusion. You tried to open your mouth to speak but nothing came out. This time, you knew Chenle was right. You have no idea. 

“Do you really think this is just a game for him, Y/N?” Chenle continued, “I know, it’s partly my fault for letting him drive you home that night and for not giving you a heads up but I didn’t think it could go deeper. I didn’t think it could end up like this.”

“It’s not your fault, Chenle. I just… I just didn’t think of it like that,” you murmured, your voice almost too quiet for him to hear. “I just thought that… that it’s the way things work for me. I didn’t realize our situation could put him in a worse situation than me.” 

Chenle’s expression softened at your confession, “I know you didn’t. But that’s why I need you to start seeing it from his side. From his perspective. This isn’t about what you can fix or what you think you can get away with.”

Betrayed is an understatement of how Yangyang feels right now. Hearing Chenle’s frustration and your clueless words earlier made his heart twist uncomfortably. Just when he thought everything was okay. Just when he thought it was okay to let his guard down for you. You just had to let him feel different from you. 

“What are you going to do, Yang?” Renjun asked, sighing as he saw his talent leaning against the window of his car. He had heard about you and your manager’s dispute from Yangyang. The young man was already on the verge of crying when Renjun calmed him down, even just for a moment.

“I knew we shouldn’t have gone that far into whatever we had, ge.” 

“I’m sure Y/N had her reasons as to why she said those things, Yang,” Renjun tried to save you from Yangyang but he knew it’s no use. 

Knowing Yangyang, Renjun’s too sure that the boy will completely distance himself from you, considering how he just realized how dangerous it is for him to fall for someone like you. 

“No, ge. This has to stop. Whatever this is. Chenle’s right. Even if I hadn’t heard her talking with her manager, I can’t let things go that far, ge. I have a career to uphold,” Yangyang sighed, “What would the public think if they learned about us? It’s so scary.”

“You’re overthinking again. Try to talk things with her tomorrow, maybe it’ll clear your mind.”

Tomorrow came and Yangyang dreaded it the most. You, on the other hand, are oblivious to the fact that your potential significant other potentially heard your conflict with Chenle last night. 

“Yang-sunbae!” You greeted, still clueless. 

With you greeting him with a huge smile that could cure the world, Yangyang wished he hadn’t heard what you had said yesterday. Yangyang wished this could go on. Yangyang wished you guys were just ordinary people. 

“I heard your conversation with Chenle,” he wasted no time. Yangyang spoke to you with the coldest tone he could muster but his insides were shaking. 

“Hm?” You were confused. 

What conversation with Chenle? You thought. 

Oh. You realized. 

Oh.

“Must be nice for you, huh? To not be worried about your career because your parents can clean your mess up,” his words cut you like a knife. He swore to himself to become calm once you met him but Yangyang felt overwhelmed. 

“What are you-” you couldn’t even continue what you were about to say because he interrupted you again, his disappointment in you evident in his eyes.

“I like you, Y/N.”

Those were the words you hoped Yangyang would one day say to you but his tone wasn’t the way to put it. You felt no butterflies in your stomach because you know this is not the confession where the both of you would end up together. More like a confession where you’d end up alone. 

“I like you too, Yangyang-sunbae,” you try. You hoped that he would calm down. That this revelation of feelings would soothe him and make him realize that everything is okay. That he’d realize you’re ready to risk everything for him.

But deep down, you know you’re just a fool for even confessing. 

Yangyang shook his head, “I like you, Y/N,” he repeated, “But we should stop. Your manager is right. What we have right now shouldn’t continue. We’re not allowed to be like this,” his voice cracks at the end of his sentence. 

A confession and a closure at the same dialogue? Yangyang is the only one who could do that.

“Yang…” but he didn’t respond. You look at his figure walking out of the set. 

You cried at where he had left you. You look like a fool there, with the director coming at your direction, completely confused as to why Yangyang left so suddenly and why you were left there, sobbing. 

“No amount of public hate could make me hurt the way his words did,” you cry at the director’s shoulder. You were almost shaking. 

It was your first ever rejection you have received your whole life. Sure, some individuals do not accept you in this field but his rejection of you was personal. 

“Why’d you do that to her?” Yangyang found it surprising that Hendery was the one to ask him why. Out of all the people in the set, this young and rude man was the first one to ask him why. 

“She can’t understand me or my situation. She can never understand it,” Yangyang just replied as he brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply as smoke curled up in the air. 

“You should have known that from the start, considering she’s a product of nepotism,” Hendery replied. Him, too, lighting up his own cig. 

“She’s more than what the public thinks of her,” Yangyang argued, “But, I think I have overestimated her.” 

Yangyang didn’t mean to leave you crying, he felt hurt himself. When he saw you earlier, memories of yesterday flooded his mind, overwhelming him and causing him to say whatever came to mind in that moment.

He was terrified that he would become nothing once the news about you two broke. The thought of a dating scandal uprooting all the sacrifices he had made for his career filled him with dread. In truth, he was afraid of you.

From the first time he saw you at the read-throughs, he sensed something about you could destroy him. Still, he tried until all that remained was the painful realization that you couldn’t be with him.

Hendery didn’t respond to Yangyang anymore. Instead, he just stood there while Yangyang found himself sitting with his truth in silence, grappling with the weight of his emotions. It was just him, Hendery, and the unspoken fears that lingered between you two, a reminder of what could never be.

“I know this is bad timing but the editing team accidentally deleted a kissing scene from Riko and Jun and now–” the director was frantic, almost worried for you and Yangyang but Kun calmed her down.

“Breathe,” he said, patting the back of the director to soothe her.

“Thank you,” she smiled before continuing, “I need the two of you to get your act together and film this one, just one, scene again.”

Yangyang didn’t reply, as if he’s distracted with something. You, on the other hand, gave the director a small nod. 

It was the day after the confession-closure thing and you kinda accepted to yourself that while he has become wary with you, you’re still willing to accept him. Even if it takes a lifetime. 

“Good morning, sunbae!” You gave him your best, energetic smile but he just gave you a nod. 

“At least, he acknowledged you,” Sicheng’s makeup artist felt bad for you so she tried to cheer you up. 

“Okay, Y/N and Yangyang! Give us your best shot!” The director calls, you breathe deeply before looking straight into Yangyang’s, you mean, Jun’s eyes. 

Be professional, Y/N! You scold yourself.

Yangyang immediately dives into the kissing scene, leaving you no room to mentally prepare for it. 

The kiss was fierce and desperate. You feel as if you’re trying to consume each other, pouring all your unspoken words and pent-up feelings into this single moment.

Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling him closer as if afraid he might disappear. He responds by deepening the kiss, his hands gripping your waist tightly, grounding you both in this whirlwind of passion.

It’s as if you guys weren’t Riko and Jun. The pretend kiss was extremely intense, everyone on set felt that it was genuine than it was supposed to be. But the director liked it. 

“Cut!” The director shouted and Yangyang was quick enough to detach himself from you. “That was a good one-take!”

You weren’t able to respond because Yangyang was already leading you to a secluded place.

“Hey! Wait!” You try to make him stop, “The director’s not finished talking, sunbae.”

Once he deems it’s safe enough, he looks at you before sighing deeply. He leans into you, kissing you for real this time. 

Yangyang doesn’t know if this is your first kiss but you don’t care at all. You close your eyes, feeling the moment. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says, breathless.

“I should be the one apologizing, sunbae.”

Yangyang inhales, looking straight into your eyes, “It’s just… it’s just I’m afraid to disappoint them, Y/N. My fans. The public. I don’t like the way they’d paint me if we’re revealed.” 

“It’s okay, really. At least, you told me now,” you give him a half smile. 

In that instant, you realize how much you’re willing to risk for him. You were so easy to forgive him that you’d already forgotten what he had made you feel yesterday. But there’s this thought that has been eating you since then… that Yangyang’s not ready to risk what you’re ready to give him. 

“Look,” you were determined to make this right. “I know it’s complicated but–” 

He shakes his head harshly, cutting you off. “No, Y/N. You don’t understand this ‘complicated’ you’re talking about. I like you, Y/N. I genuinely, deeply fell for you but I can’t afford to risk my career or put you in danger of being even more hated by the general public.” 

“Yangyang-sunbae,” your voice was trembling but you still gave him a forced smile, “We can still be friends, you know?” You don’t want to be friends with him but if that’s the only way to keep him around, you’re willing. 

“No, Y/N. We can’t be friends.” 

“Why not?” You plead, desperate for him to explain whatever he has on his mind because he’s been puzzling you since earlier. 

“Because I like you more than friends do,” he admits, his voice betraying him again. 

The confession sends a rush of emotions through you, “So what does this mean for us?”

“It means…” He hesitates again, his brow furrowing, knowing that whatever comes out of his mouth next will change his relationship with you. “It means I have to lose you to protect you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the face. You want to scream that it’s not fair, that love shouldn’t come with conditions or sacrifices, but only a shaky breath left your lips.

“Yangyang-sunbae,” you say softly, stepping closer again despite the chasm between your desires and his fears. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like time stands still. In those gaze of his lies everything unspoken: the love that burns fiercely but is overpowered by his fear.

“I wish things were different,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

You reach out, fingers brushing against his hand, wishing for him to reconsider. But deep down, you know he’s already made up his mind.

“It’s premiere day!” The director gleamed. 

“Sicheng, you ready?” You ask your lead partner.

“Ask yourself first if you’re ready,” he replied. And he’s right about it, considering how this is the first time you’re going to see Yangyang again after your closure. 

The venue was filled with energy, cameras flashing from left to right, fans cheering for every cast member, and the buzz of excitement filling every corner of the room. You take a deep breath before diving in with Sicheng at the stage, reminding yourself of the work you had put into this series. 

The lights were blinding you and Sicheng and you can’t even hear the cheers of your fans with your heart thumping incredibly loud and fast. As you pose for photos, your eyes can’t help but wander to Yangyang. And when you did? Your heart almost dropped.

Yangyang looked dapper in his suit, standing with his partner in the drama as well as the other cast members. He catches your gaze for a second before continuing to smile at the cameras pointed at him. You can’t help but feel a pang in your chest. 

You mean, what’s the point of looking that good if there’s a distance between the both of you?

After the dashing and successful premiere of Eternal Sunshine, you find yourself at the after-party where only the crew and the cast were invited. 

The atmosphere was celebratory, filled with laughter and clinking of glasses. Heck, you even heard someone say that this drama is going to be a hit and that you deeply hope. But your mind wanders to Yangyang, sitting at the side with Hendery, exchanging small talks with the man every once in a while. 

You don’t know what came to you at that exact moment but you can’t help yourself. Your feet found its way towards an unsuspecting Yangyang. 

You first greeted Hendery, who even though feels the atmosphere didn’t need his presence there, didn’t give a single care and continued to eat. 

“Y/N,” Yangyang greeted you first.

“Hey,” you smile softly at him before leaning to his level, whispering, “I just want you to know that I’ll wait for your love, Yang.” 

It was the first time Yangyang had heard you call him without honorifics, making him flustered and shocked. He was about to respond to you but you shushed him, walking towards the area where the director is to talk with her. 

You know that there’s no need for further explanation because deep down inside, you're resolute: you’ll absolutely wait for his love. You like this man deeply, more than words can explain, and no matter how long it takes you're willing to endure it all for him.

COMING UP NEXT. “Yeah, but it’s so weird because you can feel the tension and I think it’d be even weirder now because they’re wrapping up the first season and Ten has to get the interesting bits while the makeup artist has to make sure Sicheng is the interesting bit.”