#Lookism dg

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: The Best at-

G/N. All my faves: Goo, Gun, Sammy, Jakey, Vin, Ryuhei, DG. Something cute and fluffy for this terrible day. Masterlists

Goo - The best at spoiling you

It's no surprise that whatever his little cupcake wants, his little cupcake gets.

He loves spending money at the best of times anyway. Whether buying something as a status symbol or just as a treat, the fact that he gets to spoil you too is an extra bonus.

Yeah he's hoarding wealth like he's a goddamn dragon, but he knows he can't take it with him.

So one word from you, or even a longing look, then you will get whatever your heart desires.

It doesn't just stop at material goods. Clothing, bags, skincare, cars, even a goddamn house. But you want a holiday? Here's the most luxurious of everything, first class, private jet, a villa. He's taking care of it, don't worry.

Oh, there's also some food you like?

It's not that he has feeder tendencies. It's just that if you say you like a particular snack or drink, he'll bulk buy it for you until you're literally sick of it.

Goo can and will spoil you. It makes him happy that he can do this for you, yknow. Why not let him.

Gun - The best at looking after you

It feels almost a shame that Gun isn't a househusband, because this man can take care of you like no-one's business.

Actually no, that's not right. Anything at all to do with you is HIS business.

You didn't realise he could be so servile, that he would be so content to just provide for and give to you.

Even your most obnoxious requests he would take on the chin with an eye roll and a huff of annoyance at most before doing what you want.

And that's for things you've asked for.

It's the little gestures that has become a part of your routine which really shows how much he loves you. Preparing your toothbrush in the mornings and just before bed. A cup of coffee just how you like it. Making sure the car is warm for you. Cooking up extra food for you even when you say you don't want any.

It's what makes him the sweetest (even if he is a demon with everyone else).

Samuel - The best at cuddling

Yes, this man exudes sex. Have you even seen his chest trying to burst out of his clothes?

And yes, sometimes your thoughts just get away from you as you rake your eyes over him.

Then when he catches you checking him out and gives you a smirk that shows he knows exactly what you're thinking of, don't worry he'll be happy to give you a demonstration later-

(Lord please have mercy on your soul.)

But it's actually the aftercare, the sweet touches, that Samuel really excels at.

The way he holds you, like he can't believe you're around and he doesn't want to let go, is what really pulls on your heartstrings.

He holds you and it's like you can breathe again, and whatever stress from your day drifts away as you press your body against his.

He touches you casually and intentionally. Like he can't get enough and wants you around forever.

Jake - The best at making you blush

Jake can be absolutely dirty and filthy when he wants, casually resting his hand on your lower back and whispering obscene things he wants to do with you later.

Your face blooms as indecent and very vivid, and very very explicit, thoughts cross your mind.

But of course that would make you blush. It's no surprise. It's also not something that Jake does often.

What he does do often, and what makes you blush, is actually very innocent.

Those winks of his, directed just to you, accompanied with a cheeky grin is enough to make you smile back even during your gloomiest moments.

You feel yourself flush at that little bit of attention given to you.

During his busiest days, when Jake catches your eye, regardless of his company, you'll get at the very least a soft smile. An acknowledgement that you're his most precious thing. Something to show everyone just how much you mean to him.

Your cheeks burn and you want to giggle and kick your legs every time.

Vin - The best relationship aesthetics

This is the person you go to for the best aesthetics. Although best is subjective.

Vin, this surprisingly sappy fool, loves matching outfits. Matching accessories. Matching whatever as long as it screams to the world that you're his.

Not that he would outright admit that he likes those stupid couple's t-shirts either, but expect sulking when you tell him that it's cringe. And eventually you will give in and wear it, because honestly? It's a bit cringe and a lot cute.

But the thing that makes Vin's heart skip a beat the most is you in his clothes. His cap, his hoodies. Even wearing his sunglasses for fun. He calls you a dork but finds you adorable.

Though his absolute fave? You in his Cheonliang Jacket.

(Better still when you return it, and his clothes smell like you.)

Ryuhei - The best at making time for you

He has absolutely no respect for work, or really anything that could take up his time when he could be spending it with you instead

Pretty much the opposite of Jake Kim in this respect, Ryuhei only has one priority. You.

Unfortunately this means that you must be the sensible one between the two of you. Ryuhei occasionally missing work to lie in bed all day with you is one thing, but when he daydreams about doing it for the next month then you have to snap him out of it.

At least this also means he will also come running whenever you want him to. Any time of the night, he will travel across the world at your word. Don't test him because he will absolutely do it.

The only downside is that when you do say goodbye for whatever reason, he looks like a kicked puppy.

DG - The best at...

You've seen him going at that lollipop. Man knows how to work that tongue.

[locomoqo]

switchin' them positions

ft. Gun Park, Goo Kim, & Diego Kang x reader [separate]

details: NSFW content, sub characters, p in v (gun's part), bondage + cockwarming (goo's part), handjob + orgasm denial (DG's part)

A/N: BOO!!!! drops bomb and runs (literally just smthing i came up with like..what if u make that hunk go sub..esp the big 3 ++ goo is the subbiest out of the 3 tbh)

ᯓ★—GUN

Gun’s back is pressed against the headboard, his dark eyes fixed on you. He’s already stripped down, his body tense beneath you as you straddle his hips, feeling the warmth of his dick pressing against your inner thighs. His hands rest on your waist, fingers tightening instinctively as you start to move, slowly rolling your hips, teasing him with every shift of your body.

“Let me,” he growls softly, his grip tightening as if he’s about to flip you over, take control like he always does. But you shake your head, pressing your palms against his chest, holding him down with a firm but gentle pressure. 

“Not tonight,” you say, your voice soft but insistent, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat under your fingers. “Tonight, you don’t get to be in charge.”

His eyes narrow, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t fight you—not yet. He’s too curious, too caught off guard by the way you’re looking at him, with a calm determination that he’s not used to. He doesn’t let go of your hips; his fingers dig into your skin, and you can feel the tension thrumming through him, the desire to flip the script, to take you down and make you beg for him.

“Just let me take care of you,” you murmur, leaning down to brush your lips over his, the kiss soft, lingering. You feel his body shudder beneath you, the barest hint of surrender, but he still watches you warily, as if he’s not sure he can trust himself to let go.

Slowly, you start to move, your hips moving against him, taking him inside you inch by inch. His breath hitches, and his sharp, predatory focus giving way to something softer. His hands twitch against your waist, but he stays where he is, allowing you to set the pace.

“Just relax, handsome," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you move, slow and unhurried, letting him feel every inch of the sweet walls of your pussy.

He makes a low, frustrated sound, his hands tightening again as if he’s about to take over, but you press him back down. Your fingers threading through his hair, tugging just enough to make him subtly gasp. “No,” you insist gently, but firmly. “You get to relax tonight. Relax.” You put emphasis on the last word.

He looks up at you, his breathing ragged, and you can see the war in his eyes—wanting to give in, but hating how exposed it makes him feel. But he doesn’t fight you, doesn’t try to take back control, and there’s something almost desperate in the way he watches you, as if he’s never felt this kind of weakness before. It's almost like he's turning into putty in your hands.

As you move, your pace quickening, you can feel the tension in him slowly unraveling. His fingers loosening their grip on your waist, his head falling back, exposing the column of his throat. God, the way your pussy just squeezed the life out of his cock felt good, he wouldn't admit it but letting you set the pace for once felt good.

You lean down, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, his neck, savoring the rare moment of intimacy as his body begins to respond to yours, his hips lifting to meet your movements.

“You’re doing so well,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear, and he shudders, his eyes fluttering shut as if he can’t bear to look at you while he’s like this—laid bare, completely exposed. There’s a rawness in the way he grips your thighs, his fingers trembling just slightly as he gives himself over to the moment, letting you take him to the edge.

Every sound he makes—every low, breathy moan, every ragged gasp—feels like a victory, each one more desperate than the last as he lets go of the control he’s always held so tightly. His muscles are tense beneath you, his breath hot and uneven as he watches you through half-lidded eyes, his jaw clenched with the effort of keeping himself in check.

Your words are soft, soothing, and you can see the way they hit him, the way his breath catches as he looks up at you, his gaze suddenly raw and open in a way you’ve never seen before. His hands slide up to your back, holding you close, and you can feel the way he trembles—just a little, just enough to let you know that you’ve cracked that icy exterior.

His moans grow just a tad bit louder, his control slipping further with each roll of your hips, his breaths coming faster, rougher. You feel his hips move up into you to try and meet your hips, his eyes squeezing shut, his grip on you tightening as he lets you take him apart piece by piece until he’s gasping your name, lost in a pleasure he can’t control.

When he finally shudders and falls apart beneath you, his seed painting your insides white, there’s no pretense left—just raw, unguarded emotion, his eyes glazed and unfocused, his body spent.

You stay like that for a moment, catching your breath, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath yours. He looks up at you, and for a second, you see the barest hint of a smile before he pulls you down into a fierce, hungry kiss, as if to reclaim some of the power he’d let slip away.

And maybe, just maybe, he’s okay with that.

ᯓ★—GOO

Goo should’ve known better. Maybe he wouldn’t have said yes if he’d realized things would end up here, or perhaps if he’d actually taken you seriously, the consequences wouldn’t have been so... brutal.

It started with a simple request—you wanted to switch things up in the bedroom. He laughed, entertained the thought, but never let you follow through, always brushing it off with a smirk and a smug, “Next time.” So, this time, you decided to make sure he’d regret that.

You pushed him down onto the bed, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss, and before he knew it, he heard it—the click of handcuffs locking his wrists above his head. His eyes widened as you pulled back, a sly smile playing on your lips.

“Alright then,” he chuckled, half-disbelieving. A playful, cocky grin spreading across his face. “Let’s see what you got, boss.”

You straddled his hips with an intensity that made that cockiness of his falter. For just a second, you caught that slight drop in his expression. “Stay,” you ordered, voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

He chuckled again, but there was a faint trace of uncertainty there now, a sliver of something almost like nerves.

“Oh, I’m so scared,” he mocked, but it sounded hollow, his confidence starting to crack.

You leaned close, your breath warm against his ear. “I mean it, Goo. You move, and this stops. Understand?”

You felt his body tense beneath you, the slightest catch in his breathing. He laughed, but it was softer, less certain. “O–Okay, whatever you say, sugar,” he muttered, voice slipping as he started to take you just a little more seriously.

You rewarded him with a slow, deliberate grind against his cock, feeling it harden beneath you as his breath hitched, his fingers twitching above his head, clearly aching to grab you but unable to.

“You’re gonna listen, right?” you teased, voice low, testing just how far you could push him.

“Yes,” he replied, but it wasn’t steady, the usual cocky edge blunted, replaced with a hint of submission.

“Good,” you murmured. You could feel the tension in his arms as he strained against the cuffs, testing his restraints but holding back, for now.

He could feel his cock twitching to be inside of you, but he could do nothing but watch as you grinded on his length. That smirk of his was slipping fast, the usual swagger replaced with something far more vulnerable.

“Still think this is funny?” you asked, pressing your hands down on his chest, pinning him harder. His eyes widened, and you watched as a bead of sweat formed on his brow, his cock pressing harder against you as he looked up, flushed, defiant, but beginning to crack.

Oh, who was he kidding? You looked so fucking hot like this. His dick was only getting harder by the second.

“N–No,” he admitted, voice breathy. He licked his lips, gaze locked on yours, his arrogance unraveling with each passing second.

You leaned in, slowly grinding on him. Each touch, each kiss was a slow burn, drawing out every last bit of his restraint. He started off with cocky retorts, but the longer you teased, denying him even the slightest touch, the more his smug façade crumbled.

His breath came in sharp gasps, smirks turning into bitten-back moans when you finally sank down onto his cock—agonizingly slow at that—and when he tried to lift his head to capture your lips, you pulled back, keeping him right on the edge.

Goo couldn’t handle this. Just when he thought you’d finally give him some release, you went completely still on top of him. No, no, he’d hold out—you’d move sooner or later, right?

But you didn’t. And now he was starting to feel cornered, his body aching for you to move. The way your cunt would give his dick a squeeze every now and then, the stillness so torturous he thought he might lose it.

“Please,” he murmured, voice stripped of all bravado, replaced with genuine need. His hips bucked against yours, wrists pulling desperately at the cuffs, eyes wide and pleading.

“What was that?” you asked, pretending not to hear, dragging your nails lightly down his chest, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“P-Please,” he repeated, louder this time, voice breaking, his face flushed as he looked up, wild-eyed and almost desperate. “Fuck, I—need you—”

You smirked, leaning down until your lips brushed against his, voice dipping into a low, teasing whisper. “Oh, now you’re begging? I thought you were the one in control.”

He let out a broken groan, head falling back as he tugged at the cuffs, his usual arrogance shattered. “Please,” he said again, voice raw, the word slipping out like a whimper, leaving him exposed to you.

You couldn’t help but grin, a thrill running through you as you saw him so undone, so needy—all because of you.

“Well,” you murmured, finally granting him a slow movement of your hips. The friction drawing a deep, shuddering moan from him. “Maybe I’ll give you what you want...as long as you keep being a good boy for me. Can you do that for me?” you purr at a tone that's so sweet yet razzing.

“Yes, yes-” he gasped, trembling beneath you, wide, desperate eyes locked onto yours, no trace of his usual swagger left. “I’ll be good. I promise. Just—please, just fuckin’ move.”

“Are you telling me what to do?” You ask, lifting an eyebrow at him with a small pout. He immediately shakes his head, “N–No, sugar, ‘m sorry–I just-”

Oh this was just too amusing.

ᯓ★—DG

Diego Kang, the level headed man. The one man circle, the legend of the first generation…the titles he’s earned could go on and on. Always exuding that calm confidence, that unshakable aura. But tonight, that was exactly what you aimed to break.

After all, he was still a man, wasn't he?

Your little movie date night with him is long forgotten by you as you shift closer, slipping your hand under the blanket, trailing your fingers over his thigh. You catch the briefest flicker of his eyes down to you, a faint question there, but he says nothing. Unfazed, as always.

Yet you don’t stop. Your hand slides further, pressing just a little harder, and when your fingers graze his cock through his sweats, you feel him tense ever so slightly. He doesn’t say a word, but there’s a slight exhale, barely audible, as he shifts in his seat.

You pull it out, touch feather-light as you ran your hand over the length of his cock, only teasing at first. He didn’t flinch, only looked down at you with that calm, unreadable gaze of his, like he was trying to figure out what game you were playing.

“You’re not going to get to me,” he murmured, that calm, even tone never wavering.

You smirked, looking up at him. “Is that so?”

Leaning forward, you wrapped your fingers around his cock, giving it a slow, torturous stroke from base to tip. He let out a measured breath, eyes narrowing as he tried to keep his expression neutral.

“Mmhm,” he replied, but there was the faintest tremor in his voice, just barely enough to let you know you were getting to him, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

Slowly, you ran your thumb over his slit, feeling his body tense under your touch. His jaw clenched, but he kept his eyes locked on the screen, refusing to let you see him slip.

“Nothing to say, hm?” you teased, keeping your strokes excruciatingly slow, keeping him right on the edge, but never giving him enough to tip over. The way your hand feels around his dick has him wanting more. More than this.

He could just imagine your pretty little lips wrapped around his thick cock or maybe even better—him sinking every single inch of him into you. He bites his lip, hands flexing at his sides.

It makes him swallow hard, adam’s apple bobbing as he forces himself to stay in control. “You’ll have to do better than that,” he replied, his voice tight but still steady.

Your fingers moved faster, stroking him with a little more pressure, watching his resolve waver, bit by bit. His breath hitched, his eyelids fluttering just slightly as he fought to keep his composure.

“Oh? So you don’t mind if I just… keep you here like this?” you murmured, voice laced with a teasing sweetness as you slowed your strokes, edging him right up to that breaking point before pulling back again.

His lips parted, and for a split second, you saw it—the faintest flicker of frustration in his eyes, a crack in that calm exterior. He let out a shaky breath, biting down on the inside of his cheek, clearly still fighting to stay composed.

“That’s... fine,” he managed, but his voice was strained, his hands clenching into fists at his sides now.

With a smirk, you leaned in, pressing your lips against his neck, littering the space with slow kisses. “I don’t think you can handle it,” you whispered against his skin. “In fact, I think you’re going to beg.”

His body tensed, and his breathing quickened, but he still wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of breaking. “I won’t,” he replied, though his voice had grown softer, barely above a whisper.

You laughed softly, moving your hand with a firmer stroke, watching as his cool demeanor slowly melted away, replaced by the raw need he could no longer hide.

“Let’s see,” you challenged, stroking him just a little faster. His gaze shifts down to his dick, looking furious at the constant denial of release. He could feel the tension build in his body as he struggled to hold onto what was left of his control.

Finally, a low, ragged moan escaped him, and he gave in. Those eyes hazy with desire as he whispered, barely audible, “Please…”

“Didn't hear you,” you teased, slowing your movements to a crawl, dragging out each stroke until he let out another shuddering breath.

“Please,” he repeated, his voice softer, almost pleading. His eyes met yours, the last of his composure slipping away as he gave in

You leaned back, smiling victoriously as he looked at you, expression shattered and vulnerable. It was everything you wanted, and you hadn’t even pushed him all the way over the edge yet.

“See?” you whispered, your fingers ghosting over his cock again, driving him right back to the brink. “I told you you’d beg.”

[waleriqww]

everyone's hair looks different in the new style don't tell me gun will come with long hair (just like his dad)

[sscarletvenus]

pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5

who up feeling really mentally ill rn

[amphitriteswife]

Would you love me if i was a worm?

The question made you pause your youtube video. You turned around and looked at Jeagyeon who was staring into your soul with slippers on and his legs crossed on your bed. His eyes held an almost scary type of ‘say yes.’ In them. Where did this question even come from? Was he going trough an insecure episode? ‘First of all, get those dawgs onto the floor. Second of all. No.’ Jaegyeon gasped loudly. He seemed genuinely surprised by your answer. He expected you to actually say yes, maybe even a cute little joke or a wholesome idea. Not a no. You can’t say no to him. He doesn’t accept no’s. ‘Excuse me?’ He asked you offended, his hand on his chest with narrowed eyes. A few gasps and scoffs could be heard as they left his mouth. The way he looked around as if someone had slapped him mixed with the genuine emotion of hurt was making you hold in your breath. ‘this is not funny! I am hurting.’ He stated bluntly while his eyes shot daggers at you. ‘Now you’re just being dramatic.’ ‘I’m going to die now because of you.’ Drama queen🙄

‘I would probably sit on you by accident.’ You told the blonde haired man, still facing your screen and not paying attention to him. Just until a second ago he was busy rummaging trough your stuff and asking stupid question. He was bored okay? And you not paying attention to him didn’t help either. He couldn’t help but be sulky, Yet your answer made him stop his sulkiness and frown instead. He couldn’t help but think for a moment…it’s not that bad to be honest. He did expect a better answer…but it could’ve been worse right? At least that’s what he hopes. Goo left your drawer full of messed up clothes alone and instead jumped on you, his head resting on your shoulder. He didn’t seem too sulky anymore and instead gave you a kiss on the cheek ‘well at least i’ll get to suffocate cause of your butt’ ‘that’s not-’ ‘I would love to die like that..not even jonggun can surpass that.’

‘No ew you’re gross and dirty then.’ The answer made James a little disheartened, he expected you to actually say yes, maybe with a kiss too. He would’ve done it. His face fell from a wholesome and romantic look to a deadpanned one, just for a second, a split second, you could see the hint of anger in his eyes before he smiled at you. It was a creepy smile. One that looked very happy and cheerful. Eyebrows raised, eyes closed and a rather wide smile, he only did that when he was putting up his idol image…or when he was super mad. It made you feel a little bad for him…’i’m sorry.’ ‘Don’t be. Your answer was honest.’ ‘No really i am sorry.’ ‘As i said, it’s okay i’m fine.’ ‘I was trying to be funny.’ ‘I know’ ‘please. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’ ‘I know…’ ‘…did i make you sad?’ ‘…..no….’ You could see him clench his jaw before he stood up and went to the balcony. He somehow forgot to either close the curtains or forgot that the balcony was made from see through glass. Because the next 10 minutes you could see him scream out his lungs and fight himself, both verbally and physically. It was pretty funny to see since you couldn’t hear anything because the glass was soundproof, only a tweaking pink james on the balcony.

That’s it yall thank yall for reading🫶

[kaiseinx]

imagine. (fem reader :((, sorry blud)

James lee as a boyfriend and Diego kang as a husband.

you may ask what's the difference? it's very different.

Being James lee girlfriend especially if you're shorter than him, your nickname is "shorty" (Indonesia kamu dipanggilnya "bocil" :P)

James lee is different than Diego kang, Diego kang surely have experience with woman, but James lee is not really. Sure he might have some fangirls but he's not interested in any romantic relationship.

he might like to be praised about his skill or looks, even if it's just a little detail about him that change and you notice, he'll be happy.

meanwhile Diego kang is used to praised. praised won't really affect him too much.

Diego kang is used to keep a good expression, while James lee not.

you can see if James is mad or annoyed by looking at his face, but if you look at Diego's face, it's neutral and hard to guess unless he lets his emotion control him and let his guard down then it's possible to read him by his face.

James likes sweet, he probably have a sweet tooth, meanwhile Diego have it too, just don't eat it too much to not have a scandal about his carrier as an idol by eating too much sweets.

James lee will tell everyone that you're his girlfriend (if he wants to, he can also keep your relationship a secret if he finds that it'll be a nuisance if anyone knows) Diego doesn't. he's keeping your relationship and him a secret. from the media, or anyone “close” to him. Only the people he really trust with his life knows about you.

the problem is, he never trust anyone with his life.

but both is not interested in children. James is because he wants to have a “perfect” body, while Diego is because children could get in his way on getting revenge on Charles Choi and might be a weakness to him.

James is fine with a partner who can't really fight. He doesn't have a problem with it. But Diego is not. he makes sure u can protect yourself and train you himself cause he didn't really trust anyone.

James lee is "wear anything you like, I can fight" but Diego kang is "I can fight but cover yourself up"

(u can walk in tank top and shorts with James lee but you gotta disguise yourself up with Diego cause of fangirls, fanboys, stalker, and such things).

[zaiisaii]

James Lee ✋☹️ Him in his stupidly cute pink hair acting unfazed to anything and everything as if he already see things coming long ago. The THINGSSSS I will sacrifice just to make him lose his cool and become a complete total mess 🗣🗣🗣

LOOKISM

⋆ — risks w/ .ᐟ ﹙james lee﹚ .

warning:: gender neu. reader , sub character & nsfw .

the best way to break him is to take risks.

he’s a famous idol. his pink hair catches lots of attention. who wouldn't be able to tell it was him by the way he sounds? his voice is magnificent and distinguishable and he is aware of it, so he has to hold it in.

“s...stop, not here...” james, or dg as he was famously known, whispers to you. you chuckle and shake your head. your hand slipping into your pocket to turn the vibrator on. his breath hitches, electricity shooting up his spine. he straightens up immediately.

a couple of heads turn to the masked man's tense body only to quickly turn away when he glares at them. james fixes his posture quickly, the usual calm and collected male always loses himself when taking risks.

he glances down to the tent in his pants. there's a patch of wetness leaking through. your eyes watch his expression.

not a single thought ran through his head.

you clicked your tongue and pushed him even further. he grits his teeth when he feels the vibrations heighten.

his eyebrows knit together in worry. his breathing is chopped yet quiet. he brings a hand up to fix his cap, pushing further down to hide his glossy eyes.

james is a hard one to break.

but little by little you can do it.

that being said now that you turned the volume up to the highest settings.

there's a soft vrrr emitting from inside his pants. over the loud crowd, no one but maybe you and him could hear. still, he was failing to keep his composure.

he almost curls into himself if you hadn't fixed his posture. this action only caused the toy inside him to directly kiss his prostate.

he jolts.

"get up," you say, a sly smile playing on your lips. james pulls at his pants subtly, they felt too tight... "if you collapse now, everyone will know."

his knees buckle, gaze flicking to the people around him. they sang along to a girl group's performance. james breath faltered when his eyes met yours, his ears were burning red and he looked so, so pathetic.

it was the most desperate you have ever seen him.

"please..." he begs. so quiet, the wind almost takes it. you tilt your head slightly. he whimpers, even louder this time. "p-please, please."

"what is it?"

he shivers, wiping his sweaty palms on his coat. he swallows the lump in his throat. "i don't want to finish here..."

"come on," you dragged out, your nimble fingers reaching for the hem of his coat. you pulled it down to hide the huge bulge in his pants. he's lucky his pants are dark.

"if you leave now, surely someone will be suspicious." you wave at his fans from afar, and it catches his attention. they cheer his name causing him to turn a darker shade of red. "hurry up."

james shakes his head, gasping through his mask. "n-not here, please. please (name)."

you don't pay any attention to it. he quickly grasps your hand, panting even louder for you to at least show him some mercy.

boom!

some stage props shoot out confetti concealing his every noise from everyone around the two of you.

a mewl escapes him as he shut his eyes tightly, a few tears slipping down his face. he spurts everything out, the patch of cum growing even more in his pants.

your smile widens, and you turn the vibrator off. he clenches around it with every inhale of breath, whimpering as quietly as he could.

he glares at you through his wet lashes.

"wasn't that hard, was it?"

[jamesleecult]

James lee x gn!reader : In case you come back one day.

The reader rants about their past relationships experience on a song comment section they recently listened to.

note: James kinda ooc(?), attempted to angst. I was planning to make it like the reader view, like their feelings then what happened(flashback or smthg idk) but I’m lazy. Not proof read, I’m bad. Reader kinda still hung up, if you squint enough I’m kinda listening to a sad song rn. Bold font for the typing and the italicized for flashback. (Plottwist dg wrote the song and saw the comment lol) with the help of Grammarly.

During the midnight hour, their finger danced across the keyboard, each keystroke echoing in the quiet room. Blending with the faint whirr of the glowing screen with melody’s in the background.

The sounds of the faint tapping on the keys stopped, few moments later - a sound of clicking can be heard as they began to typed again.

I've met it fresh and hot, it was years ago, yet it felt like yesterday. Actually, I've been walking so far that I can start again with someone else, but in my heart I secretly ask a question. Do I really still have a spot left for him?

In their distant and hazy memories, They shared soft whispers and laughter, the gentle breeze carrying their words like secrets through the air. With each stolen glance and faint smiles.

Or always ask myself that do I love the person in front of me equally to that person. Until now.

In the dimly lit ambiance of their favorite spot, he sat across from them- on the side, his demeanor cool and composed, concealing the turmoil within. They sensed a distance growing, a chill settling in the air.

“We need to talk,” he began, his voice steady, devoid of emotion, easily making their pulse quickened, a knot forming in the stomach.

"I met a lot of people, but in the end, no one can replace you." Right into the hook. I realized, I didn't intend to hurt the person infront of me.

“What’s wrong?”

I just want myself to try and start again, but now I understand that.

“This,” the red haired boy, he gestured subtly between them, “isn’t working anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

I did never stop loving or stop missing him at all.

Confusion etched across their face, so many questions left unanswered. He met their gaze, his eyes holding a depth they couldn’t fathom.

“I’m leaving.”

I wanna say something in case, even if I never get the chance to tell him.

“Leaving? Why?” Panic rising within them making their heart skipped a beat.

“I can’t stay,” the tall boy stated firmly, his tone unwavering. “It’s not safe for you.”

They searched his eyes for answers, finding only resolve. “Not safe? What are you talking about?—That’s not true. We love each other. We can work through whatever it is!”

I got so many questions that was never answered, you left with no room for me to ask further more. What’s happening? Did I do something wrong?

As they spoke, he looked away, sighing at their persistence. Unable to meet their gaze. “No, you don’t understand. I’m.. I’m dangerous.”

Their brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance. “What do you mean, dangerous?”

“I can’t explain” he said, his voice barely a whisper in disappointment. “But you need to trust me. You need to let me go.. there are things you don’t know about me. Things that could put you in danger if I stay.”

Their mind raced, trying to make sense of his words. “But I don’t understand. We are together, we love each other- why are you leaving me with just.. short explanations?”

Then you just disappeared for no reason. I couldn’t find you, as if you were gone.

“…farewell.”

And with that he just walked away, coldly stood up- leaving them sitting there, alone with nothing but unanswered questions and a heart heavy with sorrow.

I still have a spot left for you in my feelings, always will be the one for you, In case you come back one day.

After hours of uninterrupted typing, they finally halted, their hands hovering over the keyboard as they took a moment to gather their thoughts. Pressing the final key—

The soft click of the laptop lid echoing in the now silent room.

[wannaeatramyeon]

DG x Reader: Manager and their Idol

8.5k. G/N. Soft, colleagues to lover (guess I love this trope). Masterlists

You had imagined life as a K-Pop idol manager to be much more glamorous.

You pity your young naive self. The one that envisaged schmoozing with stars and rubbing elbows with the movers and shakers, and instead set you on this horrid, lacklustre path.

What you didn't expect was the amount of time playing driver. Carting that stupid pink haired brat around. Waiting on him hand and foot during shoots and interviews, and being at his beck and call.

You have saved his ass more times than you can recall, ran through scripts with him, practised his stupid dances and moves alongside, protected him from unhinged fans and reporters and scavengers.

And yet you can count on one hand the amount of times he has thanked you.

Actually no, it didn't require any hands because he has thanked you exactly zero times for all your early mornings and late nights and for going above and beyond your duty.

Out of desperation, you had asked your boss if you could manage someone else and the request was declined.

"DG has taken a liking to you," she said, tone impressed as if that was something you should be proud of.

"Great," your smile comes out as more of a grimace.

And goddamn, this agency was so stupidly prestigious and the benefits and perks here really are second to none. Just why did Diego fucking Kang have to be their top idol.

.

.

The first time you crossed the threshold into his building, greeting the reception security guard and entering his penthouse keycode like you had been let in on the world's greatest secret, you had tiptoed around like a child in a museum. After all, this was DG's residence. The DG!

You had ooh-ed and aah-ed at every little thing. 

Taking delight in seeing his interior design of choice, the type of candy that he snacks on, the shampoo and conditioner he uses, the way he organises his desk. This is the chair DG sits on to eat. This is the sofa DG lounges on to watch TV. This is the bed he sleeps in, the bath he uses, the toilet he-

Any wide eyed innocence and awe evaporated after your first week working together.

Today, you stab in the entry code and let the door shut with a bang. 

You set his now cold coffee order on the kitchen counter and rifle with practised fingers through his unopened mail to see if there is anything you should draw his immediate attention to. You pick up his discarded clothes from the floor (and for fuck's sake, this suit jacket was on loan) and make your way to his bedroom where tufts of pink hair peeks out from under the cover.

"Good morning," you announce, locating the remote to open the blinds and letting in some sunlight.

Bedsheets rustle behind you.

"Good morning Diego," you repeat and give one warning, "I hope you're decent." With that, you throw the covers back to find the scantily dressed idol glaring up at you.

You remember the days when this sight would have made you weak at the knees. Seeing him half naked, in the flesh, freshly woken up with bedhead and half lidded eyes. It's what most of Korea dreams of, including yourself once upon a time.

Now all you feel is extreme irritation.

"Good morning," you say for the third time, plastering on a saccharine smile that you know DG sees clearly through because it is insincere as hell to anyone with half a brain cell. You let the fakeness shine through anyway.

For a split second, DG frowns as his eyes drop to your lips and then he pretends everything is good. Smiling back prettily, sharp canines on show and stretching. Lifting his arms overhead, showing a good stretch of pecs and abs and the line of muscle in a V pointing like an arrow straight down to his-

You roll your eyes.

"You're late." You throw the covers back over him and stride back towards the door. "We should have left half an hour ago." You leave out the part where you had been waiting downstairs in the car and after an hour of no show and no anything, you stomped your way up to his home.

DG, sensing your mood, adds oil to the fire with a smirk, "Why didn't you wake me then?"

If that idiot bothered to look at his phone, he would see a number of missed calls and unread messages from you.

Whatever.

"Hurry up."

.

.

DG has come across many people like yourself over the years. All cute and bright eyed, way too soft.

He never gave you any special treatment, for better or worse, and assumed that you would eventually burn out or give up and move on to something more worthwhile.

Unfortunately, in a rare turn of events, he had miscalculated.

Of course most people would be starstruck, it's only natural. But he mistook your sincerity and kind smile for ignorance and missed your sharp, observing gaze, and astute mind.

He's impressed, and he really can't remember the last time he was impressed.

In a matter of days of working together, you had managed to cut through the bullshit and within the month got him more compliant and docile than anyone else ever has.

Which should be a huge fucking problem, and raising red flags all over DG's mind.

...Except-

What's really troubling him right now, as he sulks in the passenger seat and you in the driver's, is that you have developed some sort of resistance to his charms.

Maybe a part of him does actually miss the you who he formed the first impression of. Who looked at him in wonder, with the same admiration that everyone else did.

Now that he knows you, he hates that he had thought that initial admiration was insignificant and worthless.

.

.

DG has a stash of candy in the car.

Or more accurately, you keep a stash of candy next to him to a) Shut him up and b) Keep him tolerable.

If DG wasn't so aloof, the fact that he has an incurable sweet tooth (and probably cavities to prove it) would have made headlines as a cute K-Pop fact and likely garnered sponsorship and advertising deals with all sorts of confectionary brands.

You had only found out during your adventures as his manager, rifling through his kitchen drawers trying to find his goddamn phone that he misplaced and you stumbled upon his stash of candy.

It really was a disgusting amount, something you'd expect a gaggle of grade schoolers at Halloween to hoard, not Diego goddamn Kang.

And then you also found out if he's not quiet and haughty in the car, making the atmosphere awkward, he likes to comment on your driving.

Who even sits in the passenger seat next to their 'chauffeur' anyway? He complains about you braking too suddenly and not accelerating fast enough. How you drive like an 80 year old with cataracts, and you're too slow when the light changes to green.

The turn in your relationship happened when you snapped at him to shut the fuck up after losing the final shred of your sanity on a three hour drive.

DG, to your dismay, didn’t miraculously lose his hearing and turns to you as you silently berate yourself for voicing the quiet thoughts out loud.

Although, you're in the deep end now. You're gonna get fired anyway, so if he says anything else you might as well give him a flick on the forehead or a pinch or maybe a punch to the face-

Instead, he laughs.

It's nothing like the laugh you have heard on TV and in interviews. The rehearsed and manicured 'haha' or cool chuckle that suits his shiny persona. It's kinda goofy and a lot endearing.

What's even more endearing is the way he does actually shut the fuck up for the rest of the journey. You like him a lot more after that.

So. You digress.

The candy is a way to keep the sweet toothed maniac quiet. Even if it doesn't work, at least it's harder to make out what insults he's slinging with a lollipop rattling around his mouth.

However, he has never ever shared any with you. Any of the candy that you stock, and pay for.

(That you technically claim back on company expenses, but you're trying to be self righteous here.)

Ever.

In all the months of working with him, he gobbles away happily even if your stomach is growling and you refuse to take any yourself out of principle.

Until-

"Here."

"Huh?"

Taking advantage of your response and open mouth, DG leans into your personal space and feeds you some chewy strawberry something or another (which coincidentally are his least favourite), fingers lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second.

Three things happen in quick succession.

The burst of sugar hits your tongue.

You nearly choke.

You narrowly avoid swerving.

"Careful now," DG grins when you get the car and yourself under control, and glance at him with a scowl.

Good. That proves you're not completely immune to his charms.

.

.

That bastard has now taken it upon himself to feed you candy at every opportunity.

You wonder if he's doing some sort of Pavlov experiment. The sweetness trying to erase any sourness you feel towards him.

It sort of works, and you consider biting his fingers off one of these days.

You hear the crinkling of wrappers, one for him that he pops into his mouth, and one for you that he gives without asking.

You angle your head towards him, and his fingers graze your lips every time.

Neither of you comment on the change but the intimacy drives you a little crazy.

.

.

And DG too.

Because intimacy works both ways and damnit his little gesture to keep the pretty blush on your face has backfired.

The only form of intimacy he knows comes from discreet hookups and low key links. Not someone who is around day in, day out. Or anyone that goes deeper than one night stands and booty calls.

You're there, you're always there. Of course you are, you're his manager.

But today, he feels under the microscope with you standing a couple metres away and keen eyes watching the camera monitor.

It's a no nothing day. Standard schedule where he shoots a fragrance commercial and he exits a pool all wet and sultry, white t-shirt clinging to his muscled body.

Then another scene where he writhes around slightly on a sunbed and eye-fucks the camera.

How it sells a fragrance, he never knows. The mystery of showbiz.

"Cut! More powder!" The director shouts out, the crew springing into action and DG knows exactly why.

He feels strangely embarrassed and flustered, which has manifested into his cheeks being flushed, and god he can't even remember the last time he has been like this.

It’s out of character and he needs to get his head together.

As the make up artist hurriedly dabs on some foundation, you make your way over to him.

"Are you sick?" you ask, concerned and reaching out to feel his forehead with the back of your hand.

"I'm fine," He says, turning away from your attentiveness and staring at a point in the distance.

.

.

With most people, if DG wants them out of sight, they stay out of sight.

But as his manager, and a very competent one at that, it’s harder to get you to leave.

Not that DG wants you to either, don’t get him wrong. 

The only constants he has around him are people who want something from him. And yes, he knows you’re only in his company because you work with him. However, he really can’t doubt the concern he always sees in your eyes. The compassion and empathy even when he makes you want to scream and tear your hair out.

His standoffish demeanour is not new to anyone. It’s part of his appeal to be quite honest. 

Yet he feels bad over the next couple weeks as he turns it up to eleven and tries to create some distance. He registers the hurt on your face as he is extra short with his answers and behaviour.

.

.

Pandering to overinflated celebrity egos and the insane Korean work ethic often leads to after hour shoots and dinner delayed until past midnight.

Honestly, this wreaks havoc on your sleep schedule and your skin.

"Here." You retrieve DG's takeout from the paper bag.

A double portion of delicious fried chicken with a side of kimchi and pickles. It's a change of pace from what most idols order, yet he doesn't give two shits about calories or sodium intake and to add insult to injury, somehow manages to keep his trim figure.

You lament your soggy salad sitting at the bottom. As if it’s not sad enough right now - once you arrive home, the lettuce will be wilting and room temperature and you will eat it in your dimly lit apartment with nothing to keep you company except the sound of the TV.

DG notices you turning to leave his penthouse, and his mouth moves before his brain can.

"Aren't you staying?"

"What?" You double take at the question.

DG's company is usually worse than your lonely meal for one. 

He’s annoying and you frequently want to slap him, but how he has been with you lately has been troubling and you actually feel a sense of relief at his offer.

(You had wondered if you might have been getting sacked up until this moment.)

Nevertheless, in all your time working alongside, you have never had a proper meal one on one together. Nothing more than you driving with one hand and the other hastily shoving a burger into your mouth as he looks on in disgust.

You would have dwelled on this more, wondering what's changed, what’s happened, but then-

"I'll share." DG nudges the box towards you, and the delicious scent of deep fried, battered goodness wafts along with it it

All your misgivings and your salad is forgotten.

.

.

Almost.

No, you were wrong.

Eating with DG, without any distractions such as traffic to navigate or other boisterous colleagues around, is unnerving. Disarming.

His haughtiness remains, but how haughty can someone be when munching on a drumstick.

All frostiness from the past weeks melts away as you both eat your way through his chicken.

He’s talking more tonight than you have heard in a while.

You find him funny, and really quite bitchy. Which you did know all along except it's much funnier now his slanderous comments aren't directed at you.

And has he always looked at you with such a piercing gaze? So intensely focused on what you have to say. Even if you're just complaining about your boss, blurring your lines of professionalism, he gives you his full attention.

You really can't remember the last time you have been in each other's company like this. 

You loathe to admit that even with what an asshole he is, DG's shine hasn’t dulled enough for you that you don't understand the appeal.

.

.

Leaning forward, DG whispers into your ear.

To anyone else, it looks like an over-affectionate idol with their manager. If they could hear his words, "I'm going to kill you," they would think otherwise.

Ok, so this one is your fault.

The good times have to come to an end and maybe you should have been more careful with his pride and joy - some ridiculously overpriced and over-specced vehicle.

Taking advantage of the clear blue Seoul skies, the pink haired menace was the one who drove you today in his fancy imported sports car, but the speed limits and the rest of the traffic was not on his side.

Already running late, even for him, he parked somewhere convenient and illegal then passed you the keys, leaving you stranded on the sidewalk, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, as he strode off to meet his music producer and choreographer and left you to park his baby elsewhere.

Why he entrusted you with it, you're not sure.

You would have done it anyway though, because when else are you going to have an opportunity to drive a supercar, if your boss didn't call at that moment. Questioning your expenses and DG's schedule and confusing you about the fitting at a fashion house and hair styling appointment that you knew like the back of your hand but when someone is so confidently incorrect, you start to doubt yourself.

By the time you got off the phone after pacing up and down the street and checking and double checking DG's timetable, you finally make your way back to the car-

And see it in the middle of being compounded.

You had begged and pleaded with the two men who were having none of it and you left, tail between your legs, to beg and plead with the other man who you knew would also have none of it.

Damn, you hate it when you prove yourself right in these instances.

You know DG won't really kill you, but he will likely make your life hell for the next couple weeks.

.

.

A normal person being pissed off at you would probably result in the silent treatment until tempers cool down.

DG does the opposite. Sort of.

He takes pleasure in making things as awkward for you as possible, until you're squirming in your seat trying to stay professional, thinking about your job and your rent and your bills; or torn between wanting the ground to swallow you up.

Around other people, your boss, your colleagues, his colleagues, he sidles up to you all smiles and soft looks. Slips purposely into banmal, and then oopsy, pretends that he didn't mean to be so informal with you around others.

Gossip soon stirs about your and DG's close relationship, if there's something else going on. Only you can see the mischief in his eyes and the malice in his smile and you think about yanking him by the ear and demanding to know what he is playing at.

Alone, he denies any sort of miscreant behaviour. Barely listening to you complaining and snapping at him. Ending with him outright ignoring you and you fume even harder.

This time, you're not sure the punishment even fits the crime. 

Any guilt soon dissipates when his car is returned in perfect condition within a couple days but his performance lasts for weeks.

.

.

Teasing you has always been fun for DG - when your cheeks dust angrily with pink and your eyes burn with fire.

The equivalent of a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails in the school yard.

.

.

Meetings with HNH Group usually do not involve you. If it does, at most you are waiting in the car.

Luckily, there are also an assortment of cafes and restaurants within a stone's throw and it gives you some time to debrief and catch a breather from following DG's hectic schedule.

The downside is you're never sure if a two hour meeting will be condensed to fifteen minutes or if a quick catch up with Charles Choi and other Executives turns into an all nighter.

There's been days where you have ordered a meal, then had to abandon it with a sigh and a longing look as you spot DG striding out of the building looking pissed off that you're not already there, or stayed in the vehicle with the engine running and your stomach rumbling as short appointments overshoot.

Maybe this is another consequence from DG being petty and irate with you for getting his car towed - you're left snoozing at the steering wheel of your runaround, the idol standard-issue luxury minivan, waiting for his return.

It's far too late in the evening for anywhere to be open, only the fluorescent lights of convenience stores and glare of the HNH logo illuminates the streets.

DG opens the sliding door, climbs into the back and slams it hard enough to jerk you awake and rattle the entire van.

He’s sitting by himself in the back, which is odd enough in itself.

As you blink away the dregs of sleep, in the rearview mirror, you notice the stiffness in his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw. His eyes stare vacantly out the window. DG is clearly upset about something, enough to crack through his aloof veneer.

"Are you ok?" You don't get a response, not even a passing glance.

Obviously something has gone wrong with the HNH Group meeting and the stress has manifested.

You wrack your brains thinking of something that might cheer up this asshole and you think of the only thing that improves your mood when you're on the verge of a breakdown.

(Usually due to the aforementioned asshole in your current presence). 

"Tteokbokki and beer?" You offer. It’s past your bedtime but a sulky DG for the rest of the week will also ruin your week too.

DG briefly looks at you before going back to staring at the window. It’s not a no.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night. 

At your favourite late night hole-in-the-wall, you eat far more tteokbokki than DG. On second thoughts, you don’t remember him eating any at all. You’re talking and downing beers to fill the silence, trying to perk up this silly celebrity. Loose lipped and spilling far more details than you would if you were sober, with him seated opposite and sipping on a soda. 

As the night ticks along, he thaws and a small smile settles on his face watching you gesticulate and ramble about your life.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night-

With DG driving, piggybacking you up to your apartment, and tucking you into bed.

.

.

DG can’t stop thinking of the weight of you on his back, arms slung over his shoulders, legs at his waist and his hands gripping your thighs.

You slurring drunkenly into his ear as he climbs the stairs in your building. It’s mostly nonsense. He can’t make out your words but remembers your breath tickling his skin.

And when he wraps your duvet around you, the brief moment of lucidity in your eyes as you look at him, softer than you ever have, you tell him, “Thanks Diego.”

Diego.

.

.

Nothing changes between the two of you after this. Not really.

You still find him an enormous thorn in your side. Incredibly stuck up and haughty and you continue to want to throttle him on a weekly basis but you are immensely grateful for him not leaving you a passed out heap on the sidewalk.

You’re in the middle of chastising him once again, dragging him out of bed as he is running late and being an absolute dick about it. Taking it easy as if he has all the time in the world. 

Well of course he does. He’s not the one that will be getting an earful from your boss or on the receiving end of the production crew’s complaints, as if trying to manhandle and cart this manchild around is easy.

“Diego Kang, I swear to fucking god-”

"James." He says, interrupting you as he picks out and pulls an eye-wateringly expensive jumper over his head.

"What?"

"Call me James when it's just us.” He checks out his outfit in the mirror, seemingly satisfied with it, before moving onto his hair. “James Lee. That's my real name."

DG, or James Lee, keeps his eyes on his reflection. Inspecting his non-existent roots, styling his fringe to make it fall just so and applying a liberal amount of hair product.

Nonchalant and casual even as he offers something desperately personal about himself.

"James," you say, trying out the sound for yourself. A name that seems at odds with his loud K-Pop shell but you imagine a time before the fame and the celebrity and the pink hair and it somehow fits.

"James," you repeat, and receive a small smile in return. Then it drops as you add, “If you don’t get your ass in the car in the next five minutes I will kill you.”

.

.

“James,” you think to yourself before you drift off to sleep that night. 

How peculiar.

“James, James, James.”

.

.

Celebrities these days are multi-hyphenates.

DG is an Idol-CEO-Actor, or at least trying to add the last one onto his resume. On looks alone, he would have already gotten his foot through the door. Add on his reputation and popularity, he is drowning in offers.

What you personally dislike more with K-dramas scenes though, is how long things take. How much it revolves around other actors and their managers whereas DG being in the studio or filming a music video is pretty much all him.

This K-drama is supposed to be the next big thing. 

With the biggest names attached, including DG who is making a cameo. The cameo that was also scheduled to be filmed five hours ago but you have both just been lurking in his dressing room since.

Along with some measly snacks and refreshments, which the crew has been kind enough to provide. 

However, the snacks are all but gone (thanks to you) and the refreshments are dwindling and there is no end in sight.

DG, or James, as you have started to call him in your head, is on his phone. He’s always on his phone. Scrolling through news articles, responding to important emails and messages.

There’s only so much news or celebrity gossip you can take. You have exhausted your own social media feeds and you have spent far too much money on your gacha games and the guilt has set in.

You twiddle your thumbs on the sofa next to him as he takes no notice of your presence and you decide to rest your eyes. 

Why not anyway? DG doesn’t need anything right now, work won’t be interrupting you, and there’s nothing for you to do. Just for a minute or five. Until someone from the production team knocks on the door and announces that it’s time for his scene.

DG side-eyes you when he notices your breath start to slow and deepen. Falling asleep on the job, really?

Then you let out a snore before smacking your lips together a couple times and he holds back a snort. He reasons that he should let you have some time to rest. After all, you’re the one that drives him around, his life is in your hands everyday and tiredness kills.

He’s on his phone for a few more minutes, reading through more emails on PTJ Entertainment and out of the corner of his eye he notices you drooping.

Body slowly slumping to slouch over him, until your head makes contact with his shoulder and you’re snoozing happily on your newfound pillow.

It’s equal parts inappropriate and cute.

Ugh, DG is 99% sure you’re drooling on him and the wardrobe department isn’t going to be happy when he returns the outfit.

Either way, that’s not going to be his problem. He adjusts minutely, makes it just a touch more comfortable for you and continues to scroll.

.

.

You wake up to a wetness by your mouth, and to your horror, DG smirking down at you.

.

.

Despite none of this being your fault, you apologise to everyone about having to reschedule DG’s music video shoot due to the previous day’s K-drama delays.

To your relief, the music video goes swimmingly and without a hitch, and the production is wrapped up on time. 

You’ll happily bet that his new song will go straight to No.1. If not, then at least the sensual music video will guarantee DG remains top of mind for weeks. 

You’re updating your boss and even she seems to be pleased.

"This is just work." DG interrupts as you're mid call.

You look up at him, brows furrowed.

Holding your hand to your phone to mute the speaker, you whisper, "I know."

"Good," and he walks away leaving you as confused as ever.

It's not the first time you have seen him shoot an MV, which thank the heavens is so much more efficient than bloody k-dramas, and also not the first time that there's been scenes that emulate an intimate moment. Lips nearly brushing together. Hands roaming bodies under fake rain.

Even if DG notices that you're watching the scene, eyes glazed over and bored, he still felt the urge to explain to you that there's nothing between you and the leading lady in the video.

Once out of sight of everyone, he facepalms himself for his ridiculousness.

.

.

You’re right, and you absolutely love it when you’re right.

The song goes straight to No.1 and holds that position for weeks, fending off competition from boy bands and girl groups and other solo artists. Apparently it’s going to be the song of the summer.

The music video also breaks records for being the most watched within 24 hours.

DG only reviews it once for post-production checks and finds it just fine.

There’s something he can’t quite put his finger on that seems off with it.

He wonders what it would look like if it was you starring opposite him.

.

.

“Where on earth is he?” You grit your teeth and grip harder onto the umbrella that is threatening to be swept away by the wind.

And another thing with being DG’s manager: it’s fine if he’s late but not if it’s you.

(Although to be fair, this instance of him being late is likely due to this particular music producer he’s meeting with enjoying the sound of his own voice.)

You were running late exactly one time in the past, during the first couple days of managing him, when the skies opened and drenched the earth. 

Heavens forbid DG’s perfect, beautiful, flawless hair is ruined by the rain. 

It’s not like he looked like a drowned rat. The paparazzi caught him in a wet t-shirt, fabric clinging to his abs and his pink hair slicked back stylishly. Even the goddamn raindrops were running fashionably down his high cheekbones and dripping off his pout.

For the next week, the tabloids and internet forums went wild with how hot he looked. 

(Who knows, maybe that was the inspiration for his fragrance commercial.)

Nevertheless, DG was displeased and it made its way back to your boss how displeased he was.

Ever since, you have been the unfortunate soul waiting in all manners of weather for him. Rain storms, blistering sun, freezing snow.

Today, it’s your favourite. Rain. You shiver against the elements trying to take shelter under the building entrance canopy, the wind whipping the downpour every which way and you’re getting soaked regardless of how you angle your umbrella.

“Hurry up, DG.”

You check the time over and over. He would be early to his next appointment if he exited the building now. 

…On time.

…On time if the traffic was in your favour.

…Late, but not terribly so.

…Fashionably late.

… Late enough to piss everyone off in the room.

Shit. Just as you begin to fret, wondering if something has happened to him-

Clicks and flashes from cameras alert you to his royal highness finally making an appearance, ready to exit the studio and making his way over to the car.

He materialises by your side, and you mutter a familiar phrase to him. 

“You’re late.” 

It’s a mantra you’re tired of repeating, but he relishes if the amused grin is any indication.

Without a word, he takes off his trench coat and drapes it around your shoulders. His right hand covers yours over the umbrella handle, left wrapping around your waist as he guides you through the throng of reporters and fans.

“What are you doing?” You hiss under your breath. 

You can imagine the optics now from the papers and your boss. It looks… Well. Not terrible but not the best.

“You’re soaked,” is all DG provides, accompanied with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 

He opens the driver’s door for you before he climbs into the passenger’s side.

.

.

Thank goodness for your gift of the gab.

He’s being a gentleman, you tell everyone that would listen. Isn’t this what Korea wants? An idol with manners and who looks after everyone? Is empathetic and caring?

Think how well it would resonate with the female demographic, who wants a boyfriend like this! The older boomer demographic, who thinks none of the young ‘uns have any manners anymore!

Your boss isn’t convinced until the advertising offers for umbrella companies roll in.

.

.

Truth be told, DG doesn’t know what possessed him to do that. Especially in front of cameras.

Though, it’s not like he could just let you get even more drenched could he? You’re standing there, looking pitiful and he was just going to let you hold the umbrella over him when he should be the one taking care of you-

Hold on.

DG frowns at himself.

Damn.

.

.

James Lee has never looked after anyone besides himself. You need to look after yourself if you are to survive this dog eat dog world. To make it atop the Pre-Generation, the First Generation and now the Second.

He had unfathomably high expectations of himself (that he managed to achieve) and low expectations for relationships (that hadn’t been proven wrong yet).

People have flitted in and out of the chapters of his life, no-one staying around for long. Definitely no-one staying around long enough to know him, for him to grow comfortable with. 

Perhaps it has been the forced closeness that has caused him to let his guard down. Cabin fever, in a sense.

But James Lee, Diego Kang, has himself also been around long enough to know there’s more to you and he wants more of you.

.

.

Finding reasons to spend time together isn’t difficult. Actually, finding reasons to spend time apart would be much harder.

You both get on with your jobs and your duties, even as the closeness grows day by day.

And every time when you’re alone and you call him James, his heart grows fonder.

.

.

Out of all the seats available in his apartment, James lounges next to you, long legs draping over yours.

It's another night in together.

These seem to be happening with increasing frequency. DG at least used to keep up appearances, networking with his fellow celebrities.

Parties where you used to look at him with distaste as starlets surrounded him, award shows that he couldn't care less about as you hung around in the background.

Now he prefers to stay in with you, using work as a thin excuse. Studying lyrics that he has already memorised, going over dances that are long ingrained in him.

"You're not going to her party?" You ask, you were sure this fan-favourite and DG were an item or had history. At the very least, the who's who of the industry always attended her gatherings.

"No," his eyes continue roving over the lines.

Then when you thought the conversation was done, he looks over the top of his paper, eyes sparkling with playfulness, "I prefer being here with you."

Oh. Your breath catches in your throat.

You think you might never breathe normally again.

.

.

No, that’s a lie. Any opportunities for rose-tinted glasses has long passed by. You both know each other too well for that.

You breathe perfectly fine. Actually, this morning you are taking deep breaths to try and centre yourself. 

It’s not working. 

“You’re always fucking late,” you snap, giving in to your anger.

Sometimes you think it is your fault for not watching over DG 24/7. That instead of going back home, you should just live with him so you can shake him awake when he is supposed to get up instead of when he wants to.

And does it hurt him to look the least bit contrite at making your life a misery? 

Why does he have to look so smug with a lollipop stick hanging out his mouth? Seriously, between all the rushing around this morning, when did he find time to look for goddamn candy?

“For fuck’s sake, James.” You’re speed walking towards his front door, looking at the Maps app on your phone and miss his smile at you snarling his name. 

You’re already running behind and every route to the recording studio is red due to roadworks or an accident or just plain ol’ congestion. “Shit!”

Your finger jabs at the elevator button multiple times.

“It’s not going to get there any quicker if you do that,” DG speaks lowly into your ear and you get the urge to pinch him.

Instead of prodding some more at the button, you turn around and prod him in the chest.

“You’re going to get me fired one of these days,” You growl. “It’s fine for you, Diego goddamn Kang, the star who is pretty much untouchable. I’m not. I’m replaceable. There’s a million people who would take my job-”

DG snatches your hand, holds it still. “You’re not replaceable.” Then adds with an infuriating grin, “So what if we’re late.”

The minivan is skipped, and his answer to your problem is his other pride and joy. A motorbike that looks far too aggressive and a complete death trap.

“I’m not getting on that,” you say as DG hands you leathers that materialised from god-knows-where and a spare helmet.

“Fine,” he says, shrugging and throwing a leg over. “I don’t think your boss will be happy.”

“Fuck!”

.

.

If this was any other situation, you would be acutely aware of yourself pressed up against DG’s back. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Except all you can focus on is that you’re going to fucking die. You think you might be screaming.

“Stop screaming!” His disembodied voice calls out. Oh. Turns out you are.

For some reason, DG had thought the helmets with built in speakers and mic would be better for communication. Fun, even. Frankly, you’re just giving him a headache.

(Not to mention the fact that he bought a spare helmet at all. And leathers that he thought would be exactly your size.

He had never rode with anyone before and you certainly had never expressed any interest. Yet he passed by a motorcycle store when he had rare time to spare, and visited on a whim.

If he dwelled on this anymore, DG is sure his headache would turn into a full blown migraine.)

Later that night, when the ringing in his ears finally subside, he will still think about the way you held him.

.

.

When public opinion is on your side, then that’s fantastic. Amazing. You tend to get away with all sorts of things.

When it’s not, the truth can become muddied and there’s mental gymnastics from all sides painting you as the villain.

Fortunately, public opinion generally works in DG’s favour, especially in the case of his stalker who got sentenced for more jail time than if she was harassing a normal person, but not long enough to account for all the distress she has caused.

Such is the criminal justice system.

Her date of release looms large and near. DG, despite his talent and fighting prowess, realises certain traumas can’t be erased.

He grows on edge. Skittish. Snaps at any and everything. It’s noted by journalists. Other managers gives you questioning looks

You don’t miss his change in demeanour. To you, the reason behind it is obvious. 

You’ve heard about this case, everyone has. It dominated headlines for almost a month: the crazy sasaeng fan who believed herself to be DG’s girlfriend before moving onto another poor soul and was finally arrested.

As he spirals, nothing you do or say to him manages to get more than a nod or a frown. You try to offer that she had fixated on someone else before she was arrested, hoping that was a small consolation to him. And though he managed a weak smile, the black cloud still hangs over him.

In the end, you pack your bags and arrive at DG’s one evening. Instead of letting yourself in like you usually would, you ring the buzzer, smile into the door camera and tell him “It’s me!”

The door swings open to reveal DG looking perplexed (and worse for wear). Head tilting, curious and inquisitive when he sees your suitcase and carrier bags full of snacks.

“I’m staying for a while.”

“According to who?”

You barge past him anyway with a grin.

.

.

The date of his stalker’s release arrives and passes without drama.

You miss your home comforts but it makes you happy to see DG’s mood genuinely improve as the days go on.

The luxurious oversized mattress, fancy spa shower, and jacuzzi bathtub also helps to make your stay a bit more bearable.

Not to mention each morning DG actually cooks breakfast for you. Turns out he’s not bad at all at playing a househusband, and it’s also maddening how he manages to get up each day before you when he hasn’t got any place to be.

“Thanks James,” you say, when he presents you with a home cooked meal and his smile grows a bit more each day.

.

.

Peace doesn’t last.

Blurry photos of you both leaving and entering DG’s apartment at all hours of the day and night make the front page of certain news sites.

Headlines scream with leading questions. 

“Relationship beyond Manager and Idol?”

“How a Manager seduced their Idol.” 

“Who is this mystery person that has tamed DG?”

Why anyone deemed it newsworthy is beyond you. You’ve been to his apartment a million times. 

Yes, you suppose the closeness of DG and yourself in the photos can look a little suspect. 

In this particular one, it looks like you have your hand caressing his chest when in actual fact you were shoving him away for a dismissive comment he made.

And the other photo, of his hand on your wrist, was actually him dragging you away when he spotted a herd of fans in the distance.

More pictures unveil themselves.

A snapshot of you driving and DG feeding you candy.

You and DG, whispering intimately in your ear as his supercar is being towed away in the background.

You red faced and drunk as DG piggybacks you outside your building.

His jacket wrapped around you, hand on your waist and angling the umbrella over you.

Him smiling down at you (ok, you admit that you didn’t realise how soft that looks to other people.)

Finally an exceptionally pixelated image of you both on his bike, that could be anyone really.

Unfortunately, your opinion is in the minority as the articles are inundated with comments and furious, tearful fans shrieking that their idol is betraying them. 

Simply unhinged.

.

.

The speculation grows. You’re damned if you do deny anything, damned if you don’t. Your talent agency puts out an official statement.

To your ire, the statement is ‘no comment’ rather than anything more definitive. You glare at James when you find out, suspecting he has something to do with this.

He gives you a shrug, and a familiar look of mischief.

To his credit, he doesn’t leave you completely to fend for yourself. You stay off social media for your sanity, and when the paparazzi hounds you, he's the one with his arm around you, cutting a path through the crowd and shielding you.

It adds fuel to the fire. Does nothing to help your case. 

Still, you can’t help feeling safe and secure with his hand guiding you - holding onto your waist, round your shoulder, or simply - 

Your hand in his.

.

.

Outside of the conference room, where DG is wrapping up a press release for his newest album and nothing else, a reporter slinks out and approaches you.

You’re used to being on the other side of the conversation. Part of the staff, herding DG through camera flashes and questions being thrown at him though there was always some sort of camaraderie. Both parties just trying to do their job with deadlines and targets to hit.

This time you just feel a weariness as you see this person making a beeline towards you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They say, holding out their hand for a shake which you take with reluctance.

“Hi.”

A voice recorder is thrusted into your face, and you automatically take a step back. “Hope you don’t mind, but I just have a couple questions for you.”

“Um...”

“There’s been lots of sightings of you and DG together-”

You open your mouth to argue-

“Can you confirm your relationship with him?”

A vacant smile settles onto your face. It’s a practised expression where you follow all the cues to be polite and professional even as internally you wish to be anywhere but here. “I’m his manager.”

“Are you two together? Romantically?”

“I’m his manager.” You repeat through gritted teeth, and you’re surprised to hear your voice calm and collected.

“Is that a no? Or-”

“What even is this question?” You scoff, ignoring the way your cheeks heat, and refusing to partake in this circus a moment longer. “This is over.”

You manage to at least catch them looking apologetic, before you stride off into a corner to take a deep breath.

.

.

DG, much more adept and experienced at fending off questions, had finished the conference early and caught the entire exchange, watching you both with a bemused look.

Walking towards you with quiet, measured footsteps, his hand settles onto your lower back as he murmurs your name.

He bites back a laugh at your small, startled jolt.

DG tilts his head to signal ‘this way’. You give him a look but follow him regardless. Trailing behind, moving far away from other prying eyes. 

Up a flight of stairs, through multiple fire doors, turning left then right then another right then maybe a left. It doesn’t matter. You’re hopefully lost and decide to just put your faith in this wretched idol.

He finally seems to find what he’s looking for as he reaches an empty corridor; stopping mid-step and you collide into his back.

“Ack!” You exclaim, hitting the solid wall of muscle.

He lets out a huff of laughter and whirls around to face you, noting how cute your look of surprise is.

How strange though, that this is his current position. But is it really unexpected that the person that has been by his side for months has finally worked their way into his heart and has somehow learned to read him when no-one else could?

If he really thinks about it, yes actually, it is unexpected. No-one else has managed to grow close to him before. As James Lee, as Diego Kang. Birds of a feather or opposites attract or everything in between, no-one has got him like you do. 

There’s still so much more to tell and show you but… First things first.

Fidgeting, you shift your weight from one foot to another, growing self-conscious waiting for DG to talk, only to find him staring intently at your face. Impatient, you give in and speak first.

“What is it?”

“...”

“Diego-”

“James.” He cuts in abruptly, “It’s just us right now. Please.”

You blink in shock at the please and correct yourself at his insistence, lowering your voice so it doesn’t echo down the empty hallway. “James, are you ok?”

“Better than ever,” he says, a smirk now pulling at his lips.

You register his change in mood and narrow your eyes, wondering where this is going. “Why are we here?”

“When the reporter asked if we were together, you said you’re my manager.”

“I am your manager.”

“But you are interested in me.”

It’s not a question. DG, no James, says it like a fact and there’s no doubt in your mind or his. You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. Open it once more-

What.

You feel some cogs in your brain misfiring and all you can manage is a feeble, “Huh?”

“You told them you’re my manager, but didn’t say no to being with me.”

“...”

“So. What do you think?”

“Of what?”

“Us.”

“You like me. Tell me that I’m wrong.”

You take a step back. “...”

Another step. “...”

“Tell me you don’t want this.”

And your back hits the wall with an oomph.

DG slaps his hand on the wall beside your head, bends at the waist and leans his weight forward until he’s eye level with you. “Tell me and I promise I’ll stop.”

“...”

You’re cornered and he searches your face for a response.“Y/N?”

“...”

Fuck. Fuck!

How on earth are you supposed to respond when he looks at you like this. When his face is millimetres from yours and his breath is on your skin and his dark eyes pierces into your soul, pupils blown deliciously wide.

With his stupid pink hair and his fringe flopping, framing his face and his high cheekbones.

The stupid canines of his poking out that gives him so much character and is so hot it hurts when he flashes it accompanied with an arched brow and an arrogant smile.

His stupid pout and his stupid lips, that you know is constantly moisturised with a fancy overpriced lip balm to make it look kissable for the cameras.

And Jesus Christ, you hate to admit it but they do. They 100% do because somewhere in the back of your brain you always knew they look kissable but it has been often clouded by just simply how annoying and bratty you found him.

Except right now you don’t find him annoying or bratty at all.

Even as he’s confessing his feelings with complete confidence, no unease, no anxiety or doubts, because he always had a way of worming under your skin and he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

Damn it all.

“Kiss me,” you tell James, and he isn’t surprised at all by your reaction, face lighting up at your confirmation.

He shifts. 

Hand coming up to cup your cheek. He rubs his thumb twice over your skin, savouring you any way he can before tilting your face towards his. His lips at first brushes against your forehead. Leaves a trail down your nose, peppers both cheeks and then your chin. 

He draws back once, takes in your sweet face and gives you a smile so soft it makes your heart hurt.

Then finally, after wanting this for so long, presses his lips against yours.

Diego Kang, James Lee, tastes like candy and sugar.

[locomoqo]

hello!! i love your writing <3 may i request a red hair era james lee x reader nsfw? perhaps a highschool rival romance? the idea’s been eating at my brain nonstop and askjdghdfak it’s so good and i think you’d do it justice

fine line

— james lee x reader

details: NSFW under the cut, fem bodied reader, fingering, teasing, edging, public (?) sex, james is a teasing asshole

A/N: i hope i got it right huhu, enjoyyy!! <33

In the dimly lit corners of the school library, you and James sat next to each other, pretending to study. The air between you two was tense, though not for the reasons anyone might assume. To the casual observer, it seemed like another academic showdown—two rivals buried in textbooks, locked in the usual battle of who could outsmart the other. But beneath the surface, something much more dangerous was at play.

What had started as a harmless competition had evolved into late-night study sessions, lingering glances, and stolen touches. You’d both been walking a fine line for weeks now. It began with innocent bets on who would be distracted first, spiraling into a silent game of seeing who could push the other further without breaking. Each challenge, each daring touch, made it harder to remember where the line had once been.

James sat next to you, his eyes scanning his textbook while you fidgeted with your pen. But under the table, his hand rested not-so-innocently on your knee. The game had begun again.

You shot him a side glance, raising an eyebrow. He met your gaze with a smirk, as if daring you to react. His fingers, light and casual at first, slowly began to move upward. It was subtle, but it was enough to make you aware of every inch between his hand and the growing heat between your thighs.

“Focus,” he whispered, his voice low but teasing, never glancing up from his book. “You’re here to study, remember?”

You bit your lip, trying to keep your composure. “I am focused,” you replied, though your voice was weaker than you’d hoped, betraying the flutter in your stomach. “Besides, isn’t it supposed to be ‘we’?” you add. His fingers inched higher, resting just above your knee now, and your breath caught in your throat. You cast a quick glance around the library, relieved that no one seemed to notice the tension between you and James.

“Schematic differences,” he murmured, his hand creeping farther up your thigh. His touch was feather-light, teasing, but it was impossible to ignore the growing tension in your body. You shifted in your seat, fighting the rush of heat spreading through you. 

You weren’t going to lose—not to him, not like this. You straightened your back, pretending to focus on the textbook in front of you, though the words blurred together. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” you muttered, trying to sound more composed than you felt.

James chuckled softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “You talk a big game, but we both know you’re not going to stop me.”

His hand slid farther up your thigh, dangerously close to the point that made your breath hitch. You squeezed your legs together, but not enough to stop him.

Your heart raced, the challenge clear between you. How far could you let this go? How long could you pretend to be indifferent before you broke? Your fingers gripped the edge of the table, nails digging into the wood as James’ fingers ventured higher, just inches from the point of no return.

“You’re awfully confident,” you breathed, your voice barely audible. “But you forget, I’m stubborn.”

“Yeah?” His voice dropped lower, a darker edge creeping into his tone, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then prove it.”

His fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, so close that it made your entire body tense. You wanted to push him away, to stop the game before you lost control—but you didn’t. You liked this—the rush, the thrill of being so close to breaking the unspoken rules between you two, and the challenge of seeing who would crack first.

His hand stilled, fingers hovering just beneath the hem of your skirt, brushing teasingly against your clothed core. He finally looked up from his book, meeting your gaze with those piercing eyes that always made your heart skip. His expression dared you to stop him.

You should stop him. Instead, your hand drifted under the table, fingers grazing his wrist—not to push him away, but to hold him there. A smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned forward slightly.

“You’re terrible at this game,” you whispered, your voice laced with challenge.

James grinned, leaning forward until your faces were inches apart. His fingers pressed harder against your core. “Am I?” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. His hand remained, his fingers hovering just where you wanted them, the heat between you two intensifying. “I think I’m winning,” he added softly, his gaze flickering to your lips. “You’re practically dripping.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers moved, rubbing the tips of his fingers against you through your panties. You bit down on your lip to stifle the gasp that nearly escaped, trying to focus on the book in front of you. “You’re getting cocky,” you muttered, eyes fluttering shut for a second as his touch sent shivers down your spine.

“Maybe,” he hummed, his tone smug, “but I don’t think you’ll be able to get one over on me this time.” His fingers pressed against you harder, his thumb pushing your panties to the side. You clenched your jaw, legs instinctively squeezing together, but James spread his hand out to prevent you from closing your legs entirely. “Focus now,” he teased, sliding his fingers between your folds.

“I wasn’t distracted,” you breathed out, brows furrowing as the heat built inside you. The words on the page became nothing more than a blur, your hand shakily writing nonsense across your notes. “Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he whispered, slipping a finger inside you. Your breath caught, and your hand tightened around his sleeve, your body betraying you as you tried to keep quiet.

“Want me to stop?” His breath brushed against your ear, his voice sending a jolt through you. You should nod, should tell him to stop, but instead, you shook your head. His grin widened as he slipped in another finger, curling them inside you. You almost jolted in place, only barely managing to offer an apologetic smile to the people who glanced your way.

James’ grin didn’t waver as he continued, keeping a steady rhythm between your legs. The slick squelching sound of his fingers moving inside you was embarrassing, but you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch, your breath shaky with each exhale.

When your walls tightened around his fingers, a sign that you were teetering on the edge of release, James suddenly pulled his hand away, leaving you empty and frustrated. You shot him a glare, but he just shrugged and licked his fingers clean with a wicked grin.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, leaning back. “We’re supposed to be studying, aren’t we?” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, now it’s we? Fine. I’ll just have to beat you at this game next time.”

[rorlokiswifey]

💚🩷 ~Pink and green haired characters~ 🩷💚

[sscarletvenus]

when the brainrot actually is rotting your brain...

[amphitriteswife]

Onlyfans hc’s

Source: Lookism

Warnings: 18+ content below! And the word ‘moist.’

Character: DG/ James Lee

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.

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.

@yue-yolk

🍬DG would remain anonymous and would rather use a fake name from his earlier name and kpop star name. This is because his manager…and fangirls would probably cause a ruckus.

🍬because of the fact he could get caught and his fans as a idol (his fans are crazy okay? We saw the stalker girl) he would be more focused on self pleasure and masturbation. He would avoid doing it with another person as much as possible.

🍬He has his hair down there dyed the same color as the hair on his head, it’s not all that bushy and personally keept it trimmed or shaves it off, but if his viewers are fond of more body hair he doesn’t mind it …he would have to dye it a more frequently though

🍬 will not wear underwear. He likes to film the lower part of his stomach and let you see the print on it. It’s already canon that he’s huge so it’s a snake down there. He’ll wear tight pants or presses it against his stomach to make it more visible.

🍬 He would make ASMR videos too, mostly about erotic scenarios or just moaning and groaning. Sometimes, maybe sometimes you can hear him self pleasure in the background if it adds to the scenario, to make it more realistic ofcourse

🍬lots of pictures. He likes pictures in his bed or the shower, but most of them are to tease and will make you come back for more. He’ll have pictures of him laying down on his silky sheets, one hand pulling a piece of the sheet so that you can’t see the part you just so desperately want to see, the best thing you’ll get is a print or outline. It might be better to use your imagination with it.

🍬 He’ll also post videos his workouts, lifting weights, going on runs….it’s just a normal activity right? Except for the fact that his clothing is incredibly tight…no underwear on? And even the angle of the camera is pointed to the most valuable part of his body…is he sweating more than usual?

🍬 POV videos are a must! His face still won’t be visible, but his body will be on display. And dont worry, it’s in multiple positions. He’ll be whatever you want, how loud, what clothes, if you even want him to wear some. His followers are his priority ofcourse. He might even do ‘specials’

🍬 If you’re willing to pay a heavy fee. And i mean a very HEAVY fee, he might reveal his face to you. But be careful, he’s rich remember? So if it’s leaked he’ll find his way to deny it and make sure it’s not going to ruin his reputation. But you will get sued. Even if its anonymous.

🍬 PRAISE. THIS. MAN. IN. THE. COMMENTS. He might just let you upgrade to premium and make special content just for you. Don’t say standard things, make him think you’re worthy. He’s an idol who has seen lots of desperation from others, show him you’re not just some horny fan. (We are-)

🍬 If it comes to a point that his hands can’t help him with stimulation, or that his fans want to see something different: he’ll use toys. It’s not something he does often, but he’ll make sure you never saw anything like it. Most of them are a wide range of pink and sometimes even red. He’ll have them rhinestoned too.

🍬 This man spent and will spend more on different kinds of things that might help with his content. They’re the most luxurious things you can get in that department. Handcuffs? Firm yet comfortable and doesn’t irritate the skin. Rope? It’s the most strongest, yet softest silk you’ll ever lay your eyes on. Vibrator? It’s pink with Swarovski rhinestones as well as his initials on it if you paid to be a premium member.

🍬 roleplay is something he’ll certainly do if he makes videos or erotic sounds. There is a limit though to what he’ll do, he has no problem with most roleplays. But step-cest or actually irl cest is not something he will do. He’ll already stated that before amd has no problems to ban ppl from the chat for even bringing it up

🍬Lowkey rubs his body in oil. Like it wouldn’t be over the top as if he stood in the rain naked or something, but more…moist? He would flex his muscles a lot though. Praise his muscles cause their great.

🍬 he blurs out his butt. Don’t ask him why. He’s scared ppl will do something with it okay? (Even though his dick is on display he’s still scared for his butt.) his butt is masculine and square since he trains his body. It not fluffy or jiggly 😔

🍬 He will not suck okay? He’ll do anything you ask. Use a vibrator. Be submissive, hell even degrading but you will not catch man gobbling on a dildo. He will not. Not ever. Not in a life time. Nada.

🍬 someone in the comments said that his hair had the same color of a pink dildo and he started crying because he actually thought about it and became insecure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s all pookies😔🙏 might do jaegyeon na next or make a pt2

[janghyungf]

These two are divorcing but I can't focus when Gun LOOKS THIS GOOD

[https-oxy]

They took away DG's pink hair and his whimsy

[hyusolk]

yes i did