#nct 2018 angst

[keehomania]

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

mark is a boob guy he told me himself!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧.*

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

[milkhwi]

Casino Nights - Gambler! Chenle

Summary: Gambling and more gambling, that’s all that mattered to Chenle. The probability of him winning was always high until one day you showed up and decided to change that and his life, too.

genre: gambler! chenle x  gambler! reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: illegal gambling & swearing probably not proof read enough

a/n: originally was supposed to be a bulleted scenario but honestly,, think this came out better idk anything about gambling dont do it kids- also it’s been in my draft since 2020 omg..4 years yeah last fic ever probably i’ve retired from my good old days. idk if anyone will read this but i’m proud :3 also my longest fic of my entire career who else cheered!

masterlist。

—

Dies being rolled, cards being shuffled, chips being placed, and bets being made. The casino was always full of gamblers- especially on a Saturday night. The casino was like a second home for Chenle. Every Saturday he would be there- gambling. Chenle, only being an eighteen year old, wasn’t allowed to enter a casino. Reason: age. Of course, it was no secret that gambling at that age was illegal. But Chenle was an exception. He knows how to gamble. In fact, he’s very good at it. The only reason he was allowed in the first place was because he’s rich. Being rich was an advantage to him. He put down exactly $10 million on the line- to which of course, anyone would accept if it was that amount of money. To make things worse, he was going to gamble against one of the best known gamblers. “If I win, I’ll be allowed to gamble and get twice the amount I’m betting. Alright?” Chenle said, with no tone in his voice.

Chenle’s opponent chuckled and smirked at him, “Alright kid, it’s a bet.”

Not long after, the best gambler out there was not only dethroned by an eighteen year old, but exactly 20 million in debt. Chenle chuckled slightly, “You were really that confident, huh?” His opponent gulped, he knew this was something so embarrassing that it would even haunt him in his dreams, “You cheated, didn’t you? Let’s go again, I’ll prove you wrong.” Chenle pretended to think about it, then nodded, betting down $30 million this time.

“Watch me close if you really think I’m cheating.” Everyone watching the game taking place was already sweating. Not long after, they were neck to neck- this made Chenle’s opponent laugh, relieved about the fact that he had a higher chance of winning, but since misfortune was on his side, Chenle won.

50 million in debt.

Suddenly his opponent stood up to say something, but immediately fell to his feet. Shaking at the realization. Chenle leaned towards him- towering him, “Wanna go again? Want to try proving me wrong again?” He said as his eyes darkened.

Everyone was shocked. How could someone so young be so deadly?

From that day on, Chenle became the youngest gambler. No one really opposed the idea of him becoming a gambler- especially at the gambling den and if they did, Chenle would ask them to play a few games.

Chenle did gambling as a hobby. For fun. No one really knew how he was so good at gambling. “He’s rich so he was probably taught in order to bring money to the house” or “What do you expect? It probably runs in the fucking family.”

The truth is, the first time Chenle gambled, he was at stake of losing everything. He wasn’t driven by money. He only gambled because he wanted to see how easy it was to see someone else defeated. He didn’t use his emotions- he used logic. After that, surprisingly- he didn’t get addicted to gambling like many do. Luckily, his parents weren’t aware of what he did in his spare time and they didn’t really care, either. 

His parents only cared that when he finally turned 21, he would take over the company- or when his dad retired and handed him the company. Chenle was completely fine with that but wanted to have a hobby that was amusing to the eye.

Once he got home back from gambling at an ungodly hour, he headed to his room. There was a golden envelope with his name written in calligraphy. He turned his head slightly, murmuring a slight “huh?” and opened the envelope. His eyes turned wide at the contents of the letter. He was invited to go to the most important event of the year, held once a year, the talk of the year- NCT, something anyone would die to attend. The only thing that went through his head was how much money he would make if he would gamble with the rich people attending the event.

-

“You’re gonna have to attend, alright?” His mother said, taking another sip from her coffee.

“I know. It’s next week, right?”

“Yes, so after your meetings and lunch go and get your suit tailored.” She smiled, and grabbed her bag heading out the door.

Chenle sighed, at the sight of the empty house and how alone he was in the morning. Once he finished his breakfast he headed out to his meetings.

-

The day finally arrived and his mood was going downhill. ‘It had to be on a saturday, didn’t it?’ Chenle rolled his eyes, knowing he won’t be able to go to the casino. He silently sat in the dining room waiting for his father to finish going through documents inside his office. “Your father is ready to see you.” His mother said, opening the door to the office, making Chenle stand up and head inside.

His father glanced at him and then back at his computer and continued typing. Chenle walked over to his father’s desk, causing him to stop typing and clasped his hands, “I heard your friends are also going to the event.” Chenle noded, a barely audible ‘yes’ coming out of his mouth.

“Well, besides that, put out some good words for the company and try to get us as many new customers you can.”

“Yes, father.”

Chenle’s head swayed back and forth, making his eyes flutter shut at the soft jazz music playing in the background while people talked amongst themselves. As his head was about to fall to the table, Jisung smacks the back of his head, causing him to jolt awake. Jisung laughs and says, “At this rate, you might as well go home.” 

Chenle looks at his watch and sighs, “It hasn’t even been an hour.” 

Jeno sits next to him and says, “Did your father tell you to promote his company?” 

“Yeah- like always.” 

Suddenly, two plates of food were placed in front of him, “While you’re at it, you should eat lots of food!” Jaemin grabbed one plate and started digging in. 

“He’s not wrong. We’re all probably gonna be stuck here for the rest of the night.” Renjun said, trying to grab food out of Jaemin’s plate. 

Chenle checks his watch again, realizing only two minutes have passed, sighing. He looked around trying to come up with a plan on how to leave without anyone noticing in order to go to the casino. He stands up waving slightly, “Anyways, I’ll catch you guys later.” 

“Where are you going?” Donghyuck says, his mouth stuffed with food.

“It’s a saturday.” 

All of them collectively sigh at Chenle- knowing he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to do, but allowed him to do it anyways since they were all friends.

Chenle wandered around aimlessly around the building. Trying to find an exit that was not the front door seemed harder than he thought. At times he got distracted at how many people he had to greet or how the lights oozed an unexplainable aura. He goes up the flight of stairs trying to see if there was a way out. As he looks around, he stops and gazes at you- because of how dark it is, he doesn’t recognize who you are.  But all he knows is, he has never seen you before at these past parties. Even though a lot of people attend, he knows everyone by memory. He continues going up the stairs trying to get a closer look at you, trying not to lose sight of you either. He shakes his head, thinking about how he should find an exit instead. 

About two hours later, he enters the gambling den and a familiar smell lingers around causing him to smile. It has only been a week but he already missed the sounds of the slots and the ambient music playing in the background. As he was walking to the furthest part of the den, he noticed how many people were causing a commotion around a table of blackjack. There you were. Betting with some random old rich man. Chenle shook his head lightly, sighing at the fact that you most likely have lost- if not thousands by now. He signals towards a dealer near your table and shifts his eyes towards you, asking what you were doing here. 

“They’ve been here for an hour. And they’ve won all their games already.”

His ears perked up to that new piece of information. All games won? Chenle loves a challenge. As he walks towards your table, watching you win. He reaches his hand out, “Let’s play a simple game of poker, shall we? I heard you’re pretty good for the hour you’ve already been here.”

“You’re not afraid to lose?” You say scanning Chenle’s face.

“Absolutely not, I have faith in myself.” 

You were in his territory after all, why would he be afraid? Especially if he’s never seen you around. So he put all his chips to bet. 

“Already? But it’s just the first game” You furrowed your eyebrows debating whether to believe if he was really good at this game. 

“One game is all I need.” Chenle said, as he sat down. 

You smirked, realizing how confident he sounded, you placed all your chips down, too. 

And so, the game began with the dealer handing both of you 7 cards. People were already gathering around the both of you. Watching and waiting for this weird tension to be cut. With your poker faces on, the game began, rotating from one another. 

“Raise” You said, causing Chenle to look up from his cards again. Although Chenle looked unaffected from the outside, he was confused, why would you raise again? Was your hand actually that much better than his? Or were you just bluffing? His hand wasn’t all that good, but he needed to win. He always wins. But this game seemed to feel like it was taking too long. 

“Raise, too” Not wanting to back down, Chenle was determined to win. He never felt like he was going to lose against you. Maybe you had a one hour win streak, but he was about to break it. 

Full house. A tie. Everyone started murmuring around the table. A tie? Against the infamous Chenle? Even Chenle looked slightly upset at this. But even this had a solution, he had the highest kind of a full house, automatically winning. 

“Congrats, I’m Y/n by the way. New to the area, heard the rumors, and I guess they were true! Let’s do this again next time, shall we?” Before Chenle could speak, you were heading out, and he was too stunned at the fact that he almost lost a game to some newbie.

“The Zhong Chenle.. almost lost?” Haechan said, bursting out in laughter. Jisung and Jaemin seemed to hold in their laughter in order to not hurt his ego, but hearing Heachans contagious laugh, they couldn’t hold it in.

“Guys stop laughing, this should come off as surprising instead. I mean, a newbie? And a tie at that?” Mark said, while also trying not to laugh. Jeno shook his head, looking at the ground, not wanting to add fuel to the fire.

“I lost my mind that night. I don’t know what to feel.” Chenle sighed, still astonished by what happened almost a week ago.

“Are you gonna go tonight?” Jeno asked, out of curiosity.

“Take us with you this time! I wanna see you get your ass kicked!” Renjun hit Chenle’s shoulder playfully.

He sighed and nodded, “Fine, just don’t say anything stupid.”

Night fall came, which meant gambling night! Chenle brought the boys and was looking around to see if you would show up again. And so, you did.

You walked up to Chenle, tapping him on his soldier, innocently smiling, “Hi! I sure hope you weren’t too hung up on last week’s match” To that remark, Chenle felt his neck burn up, out of embarrassment. The boys looked at him, their jaws almost dropping. They didn’t expect that to be the way the night was starting, but it was probably going to go downhill from that. 

-

After a few games, that Chenle obviously won. Your interest in him peaked, you were the same age as him after all, and wanted to know what made him more special than the rest. But your ultimate goal was to win a game against him in less than 5 months. This caused you to show up to the den even on the days Chenle never showed up for. But of course, he found out a week after, so he started showing up more, just to see what you were up to. It was strange, really. Both of you were gamblers, but the fact that he felt a connection with you since he tied a game with you was what kept him wondering. The fact that you kept coming and blowing up thousands of dollars just to play with him was also strange. You were a good gambler, keeping Chenle invested in your games. And so, you would meet outside of the gambling den, during the daytime to eat lunch or even dinner. He learned your hobbies, besides gambling all your money away and learned you were an exchange student with rich parents in the other side of the earth that would send you pocket money every weekend to treat yourself. Of course, they didn’t know you were blowing it off to some games every weekend, as long as you kept it hidden and kept a low profile, everything would be fine. 

Chenle felt like the closest person you’ve met in your life. You cherished your friendship with him, but after realizing it’s been 4 months since you’ve known him, you felt a strange sensation of wanting to be even closer to him. And you didn’t know if he felt the same. You didn’t want to risk it anyways. The fact that you managed to figure out how to beat him after 8 weeks of gambling with him and keeping up an act to let him win was something you didn’t wanna tell him. But you were going home for the summer soon and wanted to know if you were even coming back. So you decided to wait 2 more weeks and win against him officially. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving soon.” Chenle said, sitting down at your usual table. 

“And I’m spending my last days at the casino, how funny is it?” You smiled feeling a sense of competitiveness rush up. “By the way, can I pick the game?”

Chenle nodded realizing they haven’t played a few certain games in a while. And one of them was poker.  “Poker it is.” 

As always, people were dying to see Chenle play against anyone, knowing he would win. But this time you weren’t gonna hesitate. As the dealer handed you  cards, you realized you had to win no matter what.

A straight flush. Everyone cheered around you. Chenle seemed to have gotten the second highest hand out of the deck, and there was no way your bluff was going to work against him. So, you showed your cards. A royal flush. The highest hand. Everyone stood quiet. Even Chenle couldn’t believe his eyes. He clapped, slowly causing everyone around you to cheer, “I knew you could do it, I always believed you.” 

As if it was the adrenaline or the amount of people around you, you suddenly spoke and said “Chenle, I like you”

People took this as a cue and fled to different directions, not wanting to know what was going to happen next. Chenle’s eyes widened slightly and chuckled lightly, “I like you too, so come back as soon as you can”

- 

That summer, Chenle would finally take over the company, which meant he would stop gambling if he didn’t wanna risk the future of the company. And you were working under your parent’s company but managed to land a sweet deal with Chenle’s company while his father still ran it and was allowed to work back with Chenle. 

Taking trips to Sin City was something you adored with Chenle. The faces of other gamblers were priceless when you or him managed to win flawlessly, and with no “record” of ever gambling before. You hardly ever lost any money, so it was only ever done for fun. 

“Chenle, I want to tell you something..” 

“Go on”

“I figured out how to beat you and let you win multiple times afterwards.”

“Oh, it clicked to me the first time we met, I think I got lucky the first time we met.” 

“Wait- really?”

“Yeah, but I was also really lucky that we met that night, I mean what were the odds?” Chenle says, planting a kiss on your lips gently, causing both of you to reminisce about the first time you met.  

[venusorbits]

GODDAMN SUPERSTAR

SYPNOSIS ︴How you become an iconic and legendary idol in the kpop industry, with your booming fame, charm, undeniable talent and strong presence. It's no surprise that you're catching eyes everywhere you step in. The path of stardom, was not the easiest but the blood, sweat and tears, you gave for this was worth it.

CONTENTS ︴idolverse!, idol kpop reader industry, fluff, kpop industry being terrible and toxic, sasaeng, dispatch, angst, hate comments and everything that's terrible and annoying that comes being in the kpop industry.

PAIRING ︴Eventually Johnny of NCT x K-Pop Soloist! reader

TAGLIST ︴@vapingcandy @pinkladybugs-world @rosabella1009 @sadisticfries​ @oceanic-jupiter-sea @itskpopular @alixnsuperstxr  if you want to be tagged on send me an ask.

NOTE: This is still an 'x Reader fic' technically but, I have to make a name the person, to make it easier for me to write about. I will try not to mention the name I gave the you/oc so, you can still indulge in it. But, there will be occasions when I will have to write it out! Thank you!

아프로디테 🪻 SNS 🪻 CRACK EDIT 🪻 YOUTUBE 🪻

FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS 🪻 DATING HISTORY 🪻IDOL FANBOYS OF DITE 🪻 IDOL FANGIRLS OF DITE 🪻 IDOL INTERACTIONS 🪻 FAN INTERACTIONS 🪻

( ♡ ) ━━━━━ LINEUP OF THE ERAS

TRACK LIST ONE ≡;- ꒰ ° PRE-DEBUT | UNKNOWN ꒱

TRACK LIST TWO ≡;- ꒰ ° DEBUT ERA | 2011 ꒱

TRACK LIST THREE ≡;- ꒰ ° GOOD RIDDANCE ERA | 2012 ꒱

TRACK LIST FOUR ≡;- ꒰ ° TIL LOVE CAME TO KILL US ERA | 2014 ꒱

TRACK LIST FIVE ≡;- ꒰ ° LIE TO ME ERA | 2015 ꒱

TRACK LIST SIX ≡;- ꒰ ° THE REAPER ERA | 2016 ꒱

TRACK LIST SEVEN ≡;- ꒰ ° ?? ERA | 2017 ꒱

TRACK LIST EIGHT ≡;- ꒰ ° REPUTATION ERA | 2018 ꒱

TRACK LIST NINE ≡;- ꒰ ° GOD HELP ME, I'M TRYING ERA | 2019 ꒱

TRACK LIST TEN ≡;- ꒰ ° YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN KID ERA | 2020 ꒱

TRACK LIST ELEVEN ≡;- ꒰ ° ?? ERA | 2021 ꒱

TRACK LIST TWELVE ≡;- ꒰ ° DIVINE WOMAN ERA | 2022 ꒱

TRACK LIST THIRTEEN ≡;- ꒰ ° ?? ERA | 2023 ꒱

[zreamy]

WIP master post.

last update: oct 2 2024.

note: titles, descriptions, est word count etc are all tentative! i'll probably update this post weekly if i remember..

sun keeps rising (like it tends to do)

pairing: jay park x fem!reader

summary: being the mum friend is rewarding, if not a little tricky—you would know. it wouldn't hurt to let someone look after you for once, would it? (OR SOMETHING ???)

genres: summer au, (mostly) strangers to lovers, smut, fluff, angst (sorry !!!)

warnings: minors dni, extremely self-serving nct jaemin mentions, tbh the angst is p mild you'll be fine, light self-sabotage, possible inaccuracies regarding the cooking process..

est word count: 38k (i really hope im wrong tbh i failed maths so really hoping im wrong guys lmao)

current word count: 36k

est post date: we will be lucky to see this summer au by the end of october .. no promises tbh SORRYYYYYY

dear jake sim.. (or something........)

pairing: sim jake x fem!reader

summary: okay i don't actually know BUT THERE'S A LOVE LETTER !!! uhm.. to all the boys i've loved before (2018) x i hope this doesn't find you (2024) except there's only one letter .. i'll get back to you on this tbh..

genre: fluff, college au, strangers to lovers..

warnings: none for now !!! it's sfw though yay <333

est word count: .. let's say 7k

current word count: 1k

est post date: .. let's say one day !

[yushi-ni]

about me!!!!!

hiii ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 🧚🏼‍♀️ i am nini (22) nice to meet you!!!!! i stan nct wish and i am yushi biased but tbh i love all of them SO MUCH so at times i wonder who is actually my bias oopsie daisies hihi

anyhoes, this blog is all about nct wish ⭐️⭐️⭐️ i write for all the members, no 18+ things for the maknaes. please feel free to send in requests, ideas or questions about things you want to see. i try to upload as much as i can so definitely interact with my work so i can try and improve my writing as well!!!!

i also like other groups so if you want to request something from another group - idol that's also ok!!! i will try to write fun things for you. 💌 some other groups i like;

&team - treasure - boynextdoor - nct dream & 127 - riize

i am open to write nsfw - smut content as well to a certain extent. no harmful things or anything involving minors!!!! i write fluff - angst etc etc SO FEEL FREE TO REQUEST ANYTHING TO YOUR LIKING!!!! 🩵

i have been a kpop stan since 2016 and back in the days i used to ult ikon. i genuinely miss 3rd generation kpop era so much but i am also loving this new wave of recent releases. ngl i just LOVE wishies bright and cute concept. my second ever kpop group was nct dream and jisung was my ult bias for years!!!! so i am so happy with our wishies now!!! ⭐️🎀✨ i used to ult treasure from 2018 - 2023 and biased asahi. i also recently got into &team and i think my fav is harua. safe to say i do have a type in men hehehehe 🫧🧚🏼‍♀️🩵

i graduated and work as a professional dancer - hiphop based so at times i get absolutely flushed out by work but that's ok. i am very grateful to be able to work in this field. i love to bake and go for walkies with my friends. and some other random things i like; sunsets - daisies - ducks - journaling - lemon flavored pastries - bread - the color yellow hihi i could go on and on but if you have any questions please feel free to send them in!! ☁️

THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORK!!! i really appreciate it and i genuinely hope you enjoy it!!! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ 🧚🏼‍♀️🎀

[vampzity]

get to kηow me!

welcome to my blog! here’s some highlighted info!

navigation!

—✫ home | main master list | requests + guides | taglist | bias tag

basic info!

—✫ i go by vampy or manda

—✫ she/her, pan, infp, multistan, 03 liner, afrolatino, my fav colors are red & black!

—✫ i’m an aries! my bday is april 19; 🌙: sagittarius, ⬆️: capricorn

—✫ ult groups: bts, twice, ateez, zb1, skz

—✫ ult biases: jimin, momo, wooyoung, seok matthew & bangchan! i have a bias tag at the top that includes my bias wreckers :))

—✫ i don’t just listen to kpop, i also listen to alternative, r&b, and rock music! my fav artists: ariana grande, mitski, sleeping w/ sirens & the weeknd! i got into kpop late 2018!

—✫ some other groups/solotists i listen to: aespa, piwon, txt, dreamcatcher, nct, exo, shinee, red velvet, chungha, sunmi, xikers, gfriend and, more!

about my blog + disclaimers!

—✫ i DO NOT follow back ageless blogs!

—✫ this is a mixed content blog! i do not mind minor interactions as i do post sfw content or have many ideas for them!

—✫ however with that, i also post nsfw & mature content! minors should be mindful of this as i will include tags & warnings (such as 18+ and MDNI) to let you know! that being said, I DO NOT tolerate minor interactions on these kinds of posts!

—✫ i normally use fem or gn terms, i will always specify which. i usually use fem for smuts! i write ateez x reader. I WILL NOT write member x member content as this makes me personally ucomfy to do. please do not request for it!

—✫ i may write for other groups soon, but i’ve currently been drawn to writing skz! :)

—✫ my master list has a tag guide to go off of, as i will have a tag labeled next to each fic link. the tags are as follows below:

(!): angst (+): fluff (=): suggestive (^): trigger warning (*): smut

—✫ my requests are open! i’ll try to get to them as i tend to get busy, but don’t be afraid to ask or leave requests for me :)

—✫ i currently only write for ateez! but i may be open to other groups in the future :3

—✫ please follow the rules above! i’m not responsible for your actions if you choose to read something i clearly put MDNI tags for.

rules to go by!

—✫ i do not tolerate any form of bullying. this includes homophobia, sexism, racism, transphobia or anything under the umbrella.

—✫ my disclaimers! please look out and watch for them as i specified them for a reason! they will be labeled on content, in my rules AND on my masterlist so there’s no reason why it gets missed!

—✫ please be mindful that I am a full time student while working part time! i’ll try to make as much time for writing as i can however, it’s not always guaranteed.

[aris-c0rner]

beautiful deception || preface.

𝐏 𝐑 𝐄 𝐅 𝐀 𝐂 𝐄 :

At a glance, the Tuesday that changed your life started out as nothing more than an ordinary early autumn morning. The leaves were painted gold while they held on dearly to the trees, the birds were beginning to cross overhead towards warmer climates, and there was only a faint chill in the breeze when it swept gently through the streets. Everything was calm, and everything was familiar. Even your walk along the outskirts of downtown Pyongston was the same as it always was; you passed by the same houses and complexes as you'd passed the morning before, the scenery a constant on your way to the local college.

The only thing that was different on that fateful Tuesday morning was the bullet that ripped through your shoulder in the middle of a run-down convenience store.

∞♛∞♛∞

𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐑 𝐀 𝐂 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 :

❍ Mark Lee: black hair (think regular era) mysterious, quirky, intelligent and quick witted; favorite color is blue, likes fall, and has the dorkiest laugh. mark lee is the jack of all trades, ace member, third in command, & backup mission head.

❍ Song Y/N: welcome to your story! for fic purposes, you are a med student in the fictional town of pyongston, south korea, completing a degree to work in the big shot hospitals. you are considered as a goody two-shoes student, never seen without a book; you’re a quick thinker, with a very logical mind and high intelligence. your fatal flaw is your curiosity and inquisitive nature, which puts you in some pretty dangerous situations. you’ve not got many friends, you prefer to stick to yourself (this also for the purpose of plot, as having many friends would raise suspicion lol.) your strengths will be revealed later.

∞♛∞♛∞

𝐓 𝐇 𝐄  1 2 7  𝐆 𝐀 𝐍 𝐆 :

❍Lee Taeyong: gang leader, main planning coordinator, main fighter ❍ Moon Taeil: tech, hacking and engineering, general support ❍ Dong Sicheng (WinWin): gunslinger, training head, combat fighter ❍ Nakamoto Yuta: combat fighter, communications lead, security detail ❍ Johnny Seo: missions leader, skilled weaponry, planning team head ❍ Lee Haechan: explosives & mechanics, auto, getaway driver ❍ Jung Jaehyun: media coverage, smoothtalking, negotiations master ❍ Kim Doyoung: covert operations, stealth missions transport, scouter — the rest of the characters will be introduced later. ∞♛∞♛∞

𝐈 𝐍 𝐅 𝐎 :

❏Setting: fictional town of Pyongston, South Korea ❏Time: around present day, but i left out ages and all that because it’s been years since i started this and i just cannot keep up with them all. ❏Genre: fanfiction; found family, lots of action, angst, fluffy romance, slow burn ish, obviously this is a gang au, features all of nct (ot21, nct 2018); heaps of plot but i balanced it out with lots of cuteness so don't be intimidated ❏Pairing: y/n × mark lee; no love triangles bc love triangles suck booty!! ❏Other notes: all events in this book are a production of my imagination, so I apologize if there are any coincidental similarities to real life. please contact me if you believe this book to be copying other works. also, if you've come across a fic extremely similar to this on wattpad, then don't worry bc i wrote that one as well. i just switched it over to tumblr because of the target audience (also reader inserts are way more fun).

༄ read at your own discretion- there won't be any smut in this book, but there is some potentially mature stuff because nct is hot; also contains cussing, gang-related crime, violence, and minor bloodshed, as well as some graphic content that is flagged with markers throughout the fic. please don't interact if you aren't comfy with the material within! xoxo, ari™

[amarylliest]

A brief introduction about me

𖹭 Welcome to my digital sanctuary 𖹭

Hello, there! Thank you so much for stopping by. It's such a pleasure to have you around here. Since you've taken the time to visit, let's dive into the introductions so you can get to know me better.

I go by the name Narcissa Amaryllis, you can address me with Narcissa, Cissa, or any nickname that popped off in your mind, as long as it’s appropriate to call. I already at legal age, and I use she/her pronouns. I'm a Sagittarian and ISFJ-T person!

𖹭 Interest 𖹭

K-pop groups: fromis_9, iKON, IVE, BOYNEXTDOOR, NewJeans, æspa. I'm also a casual listener for several groups such as SEVENTEEN, Red Velvet, NCT, Kiss of Life, etc.

Musician: Besides the K-pop groups that I've mentioned above, I also enjoy listening to some musicians with various music genres. Let's say, NIKI, Olivia Rodrigo, Sabrina Carpenter, LAUV, LANY, Honne, suggi, Dept, keshi, Lee Hi, Dean, IU, and AKMU. As for Indonesian singers, I like to listen to Tulus, Hivi!, MALIQ & D'Essentials, Juicy Luicy, Tiara Andini, Afgan, Sheila On 7, Realuty Club, etc.

Movies: I'm a big fan of rom-com and angst movies, such as More Than Blue (2018) and many Thai rom-com movies. I also enjoy crime, thriller, and sci-fi movies, but horror and gore are a BIG no for me.

Drama or series: Besides movies, I also enjoy watching Asian dramas and Western series. I can watch any genre of drama, from slice of life to thriller. My all-time favorite series are First Love (2022), Reply 1988 (2015), and Mouse (2021).

𖹭 Important notes 𖹭

More...

Retrospring

Letterboxd

RP accounts

[aclowntiny]

No worries; I’m super okay with being called gurl, bro, dude, dudette, chick, or chicklet. I’m a heterosexual female, but have grown up around people who call everyone dude or bro, so it’s not something I see as offensive or derogatory.

I absolutely feel the same that a LOT of people request the hardcore angst. Like salivating for it. Every time I see those, I wonder how someone would crave a story that will emotionally shred them. *shake my head* Definitely not my cuppa.

I do have to tell you that my sister, who happens to be my housemate and unfortunate set of ears when I vent about stories I’ve come across that’ve been complete train wrecks, is so freaking ecstatic that you write good, fluffy stories. She gave a sigh of relief and said something along the lines of ‘Sweet Baby in the manger, it’s about time!’

Ugh to casual dating. I’m an all in or nothing kinda gal. If I don’t see a future in it, I won’t even begin it, so why waste my time. I literally had previous coworkers (and supervisor) throw anything with a Y-chrome my way (unrequested, might I add) because they couldn’t wrap their heads around the fact that I wasn’t desperate for a free meal or wanting to sow some wild oats.

Who’re your biases and when did you enter the realm of K-Pop?

~ 🧸

Ok cool! I feel like some people are really sensitive to any remotely related terms so I like to check 😅 I don't care either myself lolol

Oh same, just saw someone I follow posting about their followers or moots or something wanting angst so bad & I was like literally does not compute??? So glad your sister enjoys/approves too 😁 that's how I feel when I find the type of writing I wanna see too hehe

Right? I think it's so weird how people 'talk' for weeks before they date like they basically just date but call it talking about dating??? To see if they work together but what's the difference??? If I date someone, it's to be their gf so if they don't want that, it's a no 💁🏻‍♀️ no friends with benefits or one night stands in stories or real life here! Sow wild oats...that's even attempting to flirt for this nerd 😂🤓

2018 was my first exposure via BTS, 2019 was when the obsession period started & I took a break for almost all of 2022 because it was getting a bit too much of a literal idol not a fandom for me (I was saying things like x group got me through a hard time when that's not my belief, stanning at various levels almost 20 groups), but now I'm back with more healthy enjoyment & a smaller list of groups! Biases of the groups I'm still active with are as follows! (there's a few ggs I love, but I've always been a little less active with ggs tbh)

Ateez: Hongjoong (bias), Jongho (bias wrecker)

Seventeen: Seungkwan (bias), Hoshi (bias wrecker)

Enhypen: Jay

Treasure: Hyunsuk

P1Harmony: Jiung

NCT: Haechan, Yuta, Ten, Hendery, Yangyang, Mark (what that's still only like a quarter of them 😂)

Verivery: Yongseung

Stray Kids: all of 3Racha are fighting for me hard tbh

Ults: Hongjoong, Seungkwan, Hyunsuk

So...yeah hehe! Still a decent-sized list but hey, much better than 20!

[a-cup-of-kpop21]

Unrealistic Love: About Them

Part 1

So a lot of people like Unrealistic Love so far so here is some stuff about Y/N and her friends' social media posts and what they major in at college.

The Majors:

Y/N - Art Major

Kun - Culinary Arts Major

Jungwoo - Acting Major

Xiao Jun - Literature Major

Ten - Fashion Major

Chen Le - Music Major

~ Admin V

[keehomania]

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

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

✧ WC: 15.8K

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

✧*. 18+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧*.

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

[writers-leir]

Wildfire

location: a graveyard time: midnight concept: if your first boyfriend died over a year ago, then how is he standing in front of you right now? characters: human!reader, undead!boyfriend!kun, necromancer!bestfriend!ten genres: angst + romance word count: 2,177 trigger warnings: like one swear word, depression talks + themes, mentions of attempted suicide, dark humor, read at own discretion summary: He has a runny nose, his eyes are puffy and red, and he has tear streaks running down his face, but you don’t think he’s ever looked as handsome as he did now, recently dug out of the ground.  or In which you haven’t seen Kun in almost two years, and didn’t want him to go.

A/N: written for @softestscoups‘s NCT Halloween Fic Fest, credits for prompts go to her. this is my first time writing in this style so i hope it’s good

When your best friend dragged you to the graveyard in the dead of the night, you were less than happy. Ten didn’t hide when he was going to…execute his job, but he typically didn’t mind if you decided to sit out and stay back at your apartment to wait. Especially after the accident eighteen months ago, you preferred to stay away from the cemetery. You refused to go even when they lowered his body down into the grave, and you refused to go see it after the ceremony (despite his family and friends trying to convince you to go visit him. They gave up a few months later).

The second the clock struck midnight, Ten was dragging you out of bed. You didn’t question the mud and dirt on the ends of his trousers, but you did question why he would wake you up at such a time. He hadn’t given you an answer, telling you to get dressed warmly instead and meet him outside.

Eighteen months ago, Ten had moved into the empty room beside yours. You kept the spare room empty, one of his friends would always drink too much, and end up being unable to get home safely, taking the guest room instead. Three days later, when you woke up crying and screaming for your dead boyfriend, Ten had rushed into your room to calm you down and never left. The spare bedroom continued to be empty for the next eighteen months, which brings us back to where we were.

You couldn’t bring yourself to throw out Kun’s things, instead deciding to donate half your clothes so you could fit his sweaters into your drawers, giving Ten his old space. You pulled out one of his red hoodies and tugged it on. It was still too big on you, the sleeves dangling loosely over your hands. You breathe deeply and almost trick yourself into believing that his scent still clung to the old fabric.

Ten doesn’t tell you where he’s driving to, and you don’t ask. You’ve stopped caring about whatever attempts Ten made to cheer you up. You should have been worried, really. Ten’s attempts at cheering you up never involved making you leave the apartment. He was too scared of eliciting any kind of negative reaction from you, considering how in the recent months you’ve been more like a wildfire than a human version of Eeyore. Just a few weeks ago, you had screamed at him for knocking on your door to tell you dinner was ready before breaking down.

“What are you thinking about?” Ten’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you jolt in shock. You turn your head quickly, looking away from Ten and instead staring out the window.

“Nothing.” You see Ten turn his head towards you, obviously not believing you, but he doesn’t press you further. You decide to change the subject. “Where are we going anyways?”

“The cemetery.” He anticipated your reaction. Of course he did, he knew you better than you knew yourself. So when you reached for your seatbelt, he grabbed your wrist with his free hand. You tugged against his grip.

“No! Ten, let me go!” You’re screaming at him, thrashing wildly to get him to release his grip on your arm. Ten doesn’t let go, keeping his eyes on the road, and soon your screams turn to cries, to sobs. Minutes later he lets go of your wrist, watching from the corner of his eyes as you curl up into your seat, sobs shaking throughout your body. He notices that you’ve lost even more weight and sighs. When was the last time you actually ate at the table? He couldn’t remember. In fact, he could count on one hand the number of times he’s seen you eat in the past eighteen months.

“I don’t want to go there. Please don’t make me go there.” Ten pulls the car over, setting it to park. You raise your head, hopeful that he would agree. The look on his face says otherwise.

“It’s been eighteen months. I’m not telling you to get over him, but what you’re doing isn’t healthy. When was the last time you interacted with anyone other than me?” You turn away, not wanting to see the disappointment on his face.

“He was all I had.” You know what you said was selfish. Ten had been there for you whenever you needed him for the past eighteen months, and even before then. You weren’t being fair to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to apologize. When Ten doesn’t answer, you glance at him. He’s smiling but you can see the hurt in his eyes, yet you still find yourself unable to apologize.

“I know. That’s why I’m going to take you to see him now.” He starts the car again, turning back onto the road to continue on towards the cemetery.

“If you’re going to kill me, wouldn’t it have been easier to just let me starve to death in my own room?” He doesn’t answer. You look out the window, noticing that you’ve already arrived. The old arch entrance of the cemetery looks no less intimidating at night than it does during the day, but the fog certainly gave the graveyard a much more chilling vibe.

You step out of the car when Ten opens the door, but you don’t move any more than that. How could you just enter the place that your dead boyfriend was buried at without wanting to throw up?

“Are you ready to see him?” No, you weren’t ready, and you didn’t think you’d ever be ready. Could you really face him, knowing that had Ten not stuck by your side this entire time, you’d be buried here right next to him? Ten doesn’t wait for an answer, taking your hand in his and pulling you along.

You didn’t know what you expected when Ten said he was going to take you to see Kun, but you really should have known better, considering what he did for a living. You see the dirt pile before you see the figure, but you don’t need to look at it or the gravestone to realize what your best friend has done.

Ten stops walking when he feels you tug on his hand, your heels digging into the ground to prevent him from taking you any closer. You’re staring straight ahead towards the grave, but Ten isn’t sure if you were really looking.

“Please tell me you didn’t,” you start talking, but the look on Ten’s face is enough of an answer for you. “Ten, tell me you did not bring him back to life!” You manage to free your hand this time and with an unexpected shove, Ten stumbles onto the ground. You kneel down in front of him and grab at his collar. “What innocent soul did you exchange? Tell me, who did you kill for this?”

“I’ve told you this before, I’d let the whole world burn if it meant seeing you smile again.” You hadn’t realized you’d started crying until Ten reaches an arm up and wipes at your cheeks. He looks sad, sadder than he’s ever been before, and you finally realize how much he’s been affected by the accident.

“My love, are you okay?” It’s his voice, there’s no mistake, but it’s not him. Kun’s been dead for eighteen months. He died in a hit and run. He died in your arms.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you jerk away. His hand was warm as if he hadn’t been buried six feet under just hours ago. He sounded like Kun, but he wasn’t Kun. He wasn’t Kun because Kun had died eighteen months ago. You watched him die, unable to do anything.

But he was there. He was kneeling in front of you, his eyes clouded. You weren’t sure if it was from sadness or from having been dead mere hours ago, and you didn’t want to know.

“You’re dead. You bled out two years ago. You’re dead! You’re not alive!” You could see Kun visibly flinch with every word that you spat out of your mouth. You could see his hands trembling as they froze in their path towards you. It’s only when he lets out a choked sob that you finally look at his face.

“I know, I’m sorry. I promised that I would stay by you, and I couldn’t keep it. I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you.” He has a runny nose, his eyes are puffy and red, and he has tear streaks running down his face, but you don’t think he’s ever looked as handsome as he did now, recently dug out of the ground.

You reach up and grab his shaking hands with your own equally trembling hands. He stops his rambling and stares at you, waiting for you to talk. When you open your mouth, you’re shocked, and embarrassed, by the choked sob that escapes. Kun laughs out loud seconds later, a guttural laugh that you haven’t heard in two years. He doesn’t stop and soon you join him, not bothering to stifle your laughs.

You aren’t sure how long you sat in the dirt laughing, but by the time you stop your stomach is in pain, and you have tears spilling from your eyes. Kun’s sat down on the ground in front of you, your hands clasped tightly in his. He gives an experimental tug and when you don’t recoil, he pulls you towards him, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

“Ten told me about everything. When was the last time you laughed?” You could remember the day exactly. It was the April of the year he had died. Two years ago. As if he could read your mind, Kun hums. “You’ve lost so much weight, I’m surprised you haven’t starved yet.” It’s a little bit morbid, but you laugh anyway.

The two of you don’t talk for the rest of the night, not even when Ten comes back to take you both back to the apartment. He disappears once you’ve turned on the lights, leaving you to take care of Kun. You help him out of his clothes, and into the bath to scrub off the dried mud and dirt sticking to his hair and skin. By the time he’s changed back into his old clothes (you notice that he still fits his sweaters perfectly, and wonder if Ten had been planning on bringing him back since the beginning), the clock on your wall tells you that it’s already five in the morning.

“Is there anything to eat? I haven’t eaten in months and I’m starving.” As he says this, Kun walks into the corner of the table and as if he hadn’t felt anything, continues on towards the kitchen. You pretend not to notice.

The two of you ate instant noodle in silence, neither of you sure of what to talk about. What were you to say to someone you hadn’t seen in two years? Kun eats slowly, just as he always did whenever you ate meals together. You can barely stomach half the bowl but you force it down anyways, wanting to extend the time you had with him, even by just a second.

You sit on the couch between Kun’s legs, your back pressed against his chest, and your hands idly playing with his. The sky outside has started to turn towards a lighter blue, your living room beginning to become illuminated by the rising sun.

“How long are you going to stay?” This wasn’t permanent, you knew that. Ten’s powers had limits, and he wouldn’t be able to keep Kun with you without the proper sacrifices. You definitely didn’t want innocent people to die so that you could be selfish for another few months, but now that Kun was here, with you, you were willing to let the world burn to stay with him.

“However long you need me to.” Kun knows that his time is limited, but he also knew that Ten didn’t give two shits about anyone but you and that meant he would be willing to burn the world down for you.

“What if I never stop needing you?”

It’s such a simple question, yet Kun can’t think of an answer. What if you never stop needing him? It was obvious, he’d stay with you forever. But could he really do that? Could he continue breaking the laws of nature for you?

When Kun doesn’t answer, you realize what you had asked of him. Who were you to ask him to defy the natural powers for you, a single mortal being? You are about to take back the question when you feel his arms tighten around your waist, and you smile. The sun peeks through the buildings, reflecting off the glass of the tall glass structure beside your apartment. If you squinted, you could almost trick yourself into seeing a wildfire.

“Then I’ll stay with you forever.”

[bba-sae]

And In The End

PAIRING: Jaehyun/Reader

GENRE: Greek!AU + angst +fluff

WORD COUNT: 6.2K

SUMMARY: "My heart shall wither away with you.”

Authors note: S/O to everyone I left waiting for this series to FUCKINGGGGG STAAARRRTTTTT. I’m sorry. I suck, no excuse. But ooowweeeee look at that. I’m not sure when the others will be done but I do have other NCT/Seventeen Aus in the works. I’ll probably release a new AU in a few days, depending on how inspired I feel. Anyways, enjoy this???!!! Or don’t, I won’t force you, just don’t hate me pls lol

“You are not supposed to be here.” You say in a whisper, your voice almost being caught in your throat when you lay eyes on the intruder. You hold a candle to his face, the light seeming to dim against his bright smile. 

A boy sits nonchalantly on a table, his beauty threatening the most bewitching scenes that seem to fade in his presence. He shines brightly in the dullness that fills your life and a single breath is held in your throat. He juggles three figs between his hands, a smile emphasizing the plump bow of his lip. Jaehyun.

You see it in the way he sits, his limbs arranging themselves with such grace, they could not have been that of anyone else. His black hair falls cleanly upon his head though he runs his fingers through it rather sloppily. Despite his sheer handsomeness, he seems unaware of this dizzying yet intriguing effect he has on you. 

The boy drops two figs onto the table, taking the one in his left to the dagger that he pulls with his right. His hand expertly slices the fruit in one flick, and he takes the fruit to his mouth with one bite. You watch the juice drip off the corners of his mouth down his chin, his hand raises to wipe the side of his face. His eyes catch yours when he does, forcing you to shoot your gaze to the floor immediately. A loud chuckle emits from the pit of his stomach, the sound erupting a strange feeling of contentment through you. 

“You remember me.” He says with a smile, flicking his tongue to capture the rest of his food. You roll your eyes and pull your garments closer to you. The cold air of night seemed to scrape against the surface of your skin but dissipated with every step you took closer to the peculiar boy.

Though he claims to have shared the same age as yourself, he seems to exude a sort of unearthly wonder. You questioned him profusely when he confided to you that he was eleven the last time he visited.

“Of course I remember you, thief.” You set the candle on the table and take a seat beside him. Your legs cross in front of you, hands resting neatly in your lap. Jaehyun turns to you, his knees press against yours and he leans in with a frown. The boy never had a sense of personal space.

He seems betrayed when he speaks, his disappointment seeping through his words, “A thief? But you said I could visit. You even promised to leave me those figs.”

You laugh at this, a breathy laugh that makes Jaehyun pause for a moment. He’s heard a thousand laughs before, but none seem to ring through his body quite like that. He takes a second to refocus on your voice when you start, “I don’t really mean you are a thief. I was playing with you Jaehyun. Don’t you tease your friends?”

He chokes on his breath, a stutter forming instead of words. His eyes widen and his hands rush to wrap around yours.  You furrow your eyebrows as you attempt to retract your hands, but they are locked tight in his grasp. “We’re friends?”

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug as if the statement means nothing. But to Jaehyun, it is everything he has waited for. He smiles widely with glee, his eyes squinting into crescents. You shake your head at his childish excitement and wiggle yourself out of the little space Jaehyun leaves you. You stand again, grabbing the candle in your small hand. 

“But you barely know me? How do you decide these kinds of things?”

“That’s not true. I know a lot of things about you.” You begin walking around the table, hand grabbing the fabric of your gown. Your eyes focus on your feet that pad lightly against the ground. Jaehyun’s body spins and twists to follow your figure, unable to speak as he watches your peculiar actions, “I know you like figs, you told me that the last time I saw you. I know your parents are probably not very kind to you, because if they were you wouldn’t have to sneak in here to feast. Perhaps you are the son of a servant? But that wouldn’t make sense because you are so very,” You pause, trying to put a word to your thoughts. The boy rests his elbow on the table as he watches you take a seat again on the table's surface.

 He looks up at you, his eyes appearing bigger as he raises his eyebrows, “So very?”

“Foreign?” You tap your chin once, twice, before shaking your head, “Unlike anyone I’ve met?,” Your eyes close for a moment before it hits you and you snap your fingers in delight, “Unearthly.” 

Jaehyun scoffs, only realizing how exaggerated it sounds when it echoes through the room. He shakes his head vigorously before standing up and swatting his hand left and right. You laugh at his strange gestures. 

Your fit of giggles stops Jaehyun in his tracks and his hands fall to his sides. His stillness contrasts with your jovial movements as you hold your stomach in laughter. “I was only teasing again. Jaehyun, you have many things to learn.”

He sighs in relief, no longer surprised by your interest in him. The two of you spend the rest of the night talking, sharing stories of your days. He convinces you to stay until the first light of day and you hesitantly agree. 

When Jaehyun speaks of his own family, after hearing the extensive chronicles of your own, he doesn’t have much to say. His father never talks to him much, only forcing him to do his bidding when he’s occupied with other women. He relays to you that he has a sister and a mother, but that was all he has to share.

But before you can pry more, a single ray of sunlight illuminates a section of your face through the crack of a wall. You squint in its brightness, blinded by the intense amount light that floods the room suddenly. A burst of light obstructs your vision entirely and when you gain a sense of sight once more, Jaehyun is gone. You look around, only then feeling the weight of sleep threaten your composure. It is only a few short minutes until you give up, bidding him a goodbye under your breath. 

When Jaehyun hears you whisper his name, the light that illuminates the room glows with an unearthly brilliance but you don’t stay long enough to see.

Jaehyun and you become close within the next times he visits. You find comfort in his presence when you become lonely and you begin anxiously awaiting his visits. But after the six months, you no longer find him dining in your kitchen in the late hours. He is gone without another word, and his memory becomes that of an old childhood friend.

The next time you see Jaehyun, you feel his warm hands first. Your body lies beneath the olive tree that adorns the center of your family’s garden. You are three years older now, the gentle curves of your body hugged by the soft cloth of your dress. The torrid air of summer hugs your frame, the sweat collecting between your skin as you lay your forearm upon your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed, finding peace within the serene sound of leaves rustling in the tender winds.

As you feel your consciousness fading into a wisp of slumber, you are pulled awake when you feel a hand graze the side of your face. Your eyes shoot open and your hand is quick to grab the culprit, preventing him from moving closer. Your vision clears, and a pair of familiar eyes stare down at you. You blink once, twice, three times to focus on his features, hand still holding his. He lets out a faint laugh, sounding more like a sigh than anything else. 

“You’re rather strong, for a queen.” He jokes, earning a scoff from you. You are taken aback, however, knowing that the news of your betrothal was strictly confidential. Only your family knew of it. You sit up to meet his gaze, your hair messy and unkempt from lying on the ground. He sits back and rests his arm on his knee. 

Three years does not feel as long as it is until you notice how he’s grown. Jaehyun, now 16, still has his youthful glow that radiates his figure, but the years seem to have been kind to him. His features have become more defined, and his frame is taller. You notice his muscles, more toned than his prepubescent physique. Yet it was not the body of a common boy who helped his father with handy work, his body was that of a warrior. One that spent years training, training for a reason you were unsure of.

You shake your head and wave your arms as if pushing his words away. “I am not a queen.”

“Yet,” He says slyly, and you roll your eyes. He leans in, and tilts his head up slightly to look down at you with raised eyebrows, a knowing smile painted on his lips, “You are not a queen yet.”

“I am betrothed, I am not married. Many things can happen between now and then.” You trail off as you speak, distracting yourself with your hands. You intertwine your fingers together, hugging your hands tightly until your knuckles turn white. 

Jaehyun frowns, tilting his head in curiosity, “It sounds as if you don’t wish to be married to this man.”

“I don’t.” You say bluntly and meet his eyes. You don’t know why he’s smiling, and perhaps he doesn’t know either. But when you stare into his brown orbs, you feel a rush of relief flow through his features. He sighs, and he hopes you don’t notice the way his fists unclench. He’s heard everything he wants to hear but he goes on.

“And why is that?” 

You shrug, looking up at the sky for a moment. The rays of sun seem brighter, a pattern you have begun to expect with Jaehyun. “I don’t want to be nothing.”

“What do you mean by that?” He questions, eyebrows furrowing.

“I will be married. I will be his queen. I will be showered with riches. But I will not be loved. He will not love me, because he paid for me. But he will pretend to love me, for a moment. And I will feel important, for a moment.  Then in a few weeks, I will be nothing to him. I am not a token to be slept with and cast aside when one decides to seek other women. I don’t want to be nothing,” Your hands finally unclench and you begin to feel the blood rush through them. You look back to Jaehyun to check if he’s still listening and you are surprised how intently he watches you, “I want to be something, I want to be everything to the man I choose to love. I want them to choose me, every day.”

Jaehyun is silent when you finish and you believe he might laugh at your hopeless desires. You’re ready to hide yourself in embarrassment for pouring your heart out to someone you haven’t seen in so long, but for some reason, nothing ever felt more right. 

“I think I can help you with that.” He mumbles and you tilt your head to question him. 

“And how is that?”

“My father tells me that when I live up to my potential, I’ll be able to choose my wife, any woman in the land will marry me.” You let out a loud laugh and shake your head. You swing your legs to the side and rest your hand on the ground. Though you laugh, Jaehyun remains serious and you cough to clear the air.

“So?” You ask, and Jaehyun’s hands find yours. You don’t know why, but you soften at his touch and you allow him to proceed, though you know you shouldn’t. 

“I’ll choose you.” He whispers as if the words were meant for you. You feel his breath fan your face, only then noticing how close the two of you are.

When you answer, your voice is as inaudible as his. It is hesitant and soft and you believe you wouldn't be unable to speak any louder. “And if I say no?”

“You won’t be able to resist. I’ll save you a thousand times over.” His thumbs circle the back of your hands, and you feel as if Jaehyun did not come back to you with the intention to remain a friend. You felt his presence becoming imprinted on your very being, unable to forget him. You only hope he will not leave again. 

“What if I’m in no danger? What if I’m in no need of saving?”

He leans in, close enough to feel your breath mix with his, but he stops himself short of feeling the sweet touch of your lips, opting to lean back with a smile. He watches as your eyes flutter close in a split second as if awaiting a kiss, only to shoot open once again, “Then I’ll hope that you choose me too.”

“You’re a what?” you question. Your quarters are lit dimly by the blue hues of moonlight, yet they still seem too bright around Jaehyun. It is only a few nights since he has last seen you, but he couldn’t stay away from you much longer.  

Jaehyun leans against a wall, his gaze focuses on his hand that twists under the moonlight. It’s as if he’s trying to manipulate it or trying to soak it up. You cough once to get his attention again and he looks up at you. You’re sitting on your bed, your blankets held tightly to your body. The air is cold around you, and you shiver in the sudden chill that runs through your room. Jaehyun’s lips tighten into a slight smile and he closes the distance between you two even more. You already feel the warm flowing towards you.

“A god, haven’t you seen one?” He says it so casually as if it’s nothing. His voice is deeper, more confident than when you were eleven. 

You shake your head in disbelief, “You must be horribly misinformed, Gods do not walk among the humans. Gods hate humans.” Jaehyun shrugs, the ordeal not weighing on him as much as it weighs on you. You squint your eyes at him, still trying to understand what was happening. 

“But I am here, and I’m standing with you. Are you not human either? A muse, a siren perhaps?”

You let out an offended laugh, looking up at the ceiling to sort out your thoughts. When you look back at him, you meet his gaze with a glare, clenching your fist tighter. “You want me to believe you and you’re already comparing me to a siren? Is that how I come across to you?” 

Jaehyun sustains his eyes contact as he crawls onto your bed. The weight shifts to his side and the proximity becomes dangerously evident. Even in the darkness, you are beginning to scan his features clearly, his dazzling eyes leaving you breathless. “Beautiful, a sickeningly sweet voice, you could be the death of me if I got a little too close.” He finishes the last word as if it’s a challenge. One eyebrow raises before he’s only a few inches away from you. When he sits, he’s already grabbing your arm, pulling you into his lap to close the gap. Your hands instinctively rest on his shoulders and his own snake around your waist. He shrugs, “It’s an easy mistake to make.” 

You scoff at his actions, pushing a finger into his chest, “Maybe you are a God. If you were the god of shamelessly advancing on uninterested women.”

“Uninterested? I think not.” He says this with a squeeze to your hips, as if reminding you of your rather compromisable position, “But I’m willing to add more titles to my name.” 

“Aren’t gods supposed to,” you trail off, being thrown off by the way he looks at you. You lose yourself in his smile, as he giddily watches you speak. You refocus and continue, “have more decency?” 

He laughs as he always does and retorts, “My father is Zeus, I have a thousand siblings, who have a thousand lovers themselves. Please tell me about my indecency for wanting to be with one woman who has mesmerized me since I was young?” 

Your hands run down the sides of his face, examining the curves and details of his features. You ponder the fact that he may be a god, for no mortal could possibly be this beautiful. 

“Prove it.” You whisper, instantly being greeted by a sudden burst of light. It is the same as when you were 11, every time Jaehyun would depart from your presence. Yet this time it is smaller, a powerful thing that explodes from the boy’s hand. He closes his fist to extinguish it. A quiet gasp leaves your parted lips, and Jaehyun watches you intently for a reaction. “God of light. I knew it.” You say with a smile, hand snaking around to touch the nape of his neck. 

It is in that moment, something maybe you’ve been waiting for when he returned to you when he finally kisses you. His lips are soft but are eager to feel yours. He’s been waiting to tell you this, he has wanted to tell you for years. He doesn’t know exactly why he tells you on this night, perhaps he hopes to sway you toward him more. As if you really did have a choice in the end. The kiss is chaste and you pull away before he can will you towards his desires even more. You shake your head as his face recedes and he looks at you confused. 

“I cannot do this. I cannot let you sway me like this.”  You remove yourself from his grasp, sitting back into your original place. Jaehyun’s expression is hurt, his crestfallen features breaking your heart painfully so.

He turns away from you, hands supporting his weight as they press against your bed behind him. His legs hang off the edge, the curve of his back hunched more than it should. He looked defeated, a pitiful laugh ripping from his throat. “My apologies, I must have been mistaken in thinking you felt the same way about me.”

“You aren’t mistaken. Do not convince yourself that your feelings are not returned.”

“Then why,” His voice is loud, anger manifesting in the pit of his stomach. He stands and his feet press hard against the floor. His sudden burst surprises you, and he takes note of this. Before he acts, he takes another second to calm himself, “Then why can’t you?” His voice breaks off into a cry. He’s desperate at this point. Everything about the way he holds himself shows that he’s broken without you, and you yearn to mend the pieces together.

“You are a god. I am a betrothed mortal. Everything about that doesn’t make sense. Gods do not marry mortals, gods impregnate mortals, leaving them to hopelessly cling to their child as the only piece of someone they loved. Gods wed goddesses.” At this, Jaehyun shakes his head in disagreement, though you believe you cannot be convinced otherwise. “For as long as you are a god, you will be meant to do godly things, things that I cannot be a part of. You will love me, and you will leave and you will discover the true beauties of the world,

“The entire world is quite literally, in the palm of your hand. You said it yourself, any woman will want you,” You rise from your place on the bed, walking to him slowly. It doesn’t occur to you that your ill-fitting garments to hide yourself from him, but it does not matter to you, “So am I supposed to sit here and wait for you? Wait while you go off, sleeping with beautiful women, forgetting about me, until I become just the mother of your demigod of a child?” 

His breath becomes still as he ponders your words. His gaze doesn’t fall back to you though you want to look at him, but he speaks, “Yes, I will leave and yes you will have to wait for me. But you are terribly mistaken, my love.” He looks at you again, and you feel yourself release the breath you’ve been holding. His hand cups the side of your face, causing you to lean into his touch for more, “There is not another being in all of existence that may take my heart away from you. It is yours to keep, to do as you wish, until I come home to you. The mere thought of you is forever ingrained in me, no god may do anything about it.”

You kiss the inside of his wrist, eyes trained on him as he intently watches you, “And when I wither away like dust?” He leans in a little closer with a gentle smile, assuring your rapidly beating pulse.

“My heart shall wither away with you.”

“And my betrothal?” You ask, still concerned about your own future. He takes your other hand in his, kissing it softly, as he always does. He guides your hand to wrap behind his neck, a gesture that pulls you closer to his body. 

“I will find a way, I promise you.” His claim is confident, and you can’t see yourself to doubt him in any way. 

You laugh to lighten the mood, unable to hide your own giddy smile from his sweet words, “A promise from a god? I suppose I must expect you to keep your word then?”

“That is, so long as you keep yours.” He drops his hand from your face, opting to snake the around your waist. His hands run up your spin, lightly traces the curve of your body. “To choose me.”

You scoff at this, teasing him for the sake of habit, “Now I don’t believe I’ve said anything of the sort.”

He kisses you again, careful that you will not pull away. Instead, you return the kiss, pushing your body against him as if there was any more space for you to take up. This time, it is him that pulls away, with a mischievous smile painted across his swollen lips, ”Your actions have said enough.”

Jaehyun visits most nights, spending his time feeling your welcoming touch in the quiet hum of night. His arms wrap tightly around your waist, pulling your back against his body. You hum quietly and turn your body to face him with a sleepy smile. It’s been some time since you’ve accepted your feelings, years you’ve spent watching the beautiful boy in front of you grow. You examine his face for a moment, his chiseled features more prominent than ever. He was no longer the young boy with a naïve smile, you suppose you’ve changed too.

“You look more like a god.” You look up at him, scanning his features in the moonlight. You find your stare lingering for a little too long, a little too close, and a little too obvious because when Jaehyun leans in he laughs in complete delight. His laugh is breathy and sweet, and you cannot stop yourself from smiling. 

He stares at you too, and a moment passes when the two of you say nothing. His eyes sway up and down your face, his expression doing nothing to hide his interest. He looks down at your hands, which at the moment were unsure of where to be. He quickly grasps your hand loosely, intertwining your fingers before looking up at you again. 

“Because of my godly good looks?” He smiles slyly and kisses your hand. It’s quick but there is a warmth that surges through your veins from the same spot. He keeps your hand close enough to his lips so that you may feel the smile that blooms on his face. You roll your eyes, pulling your hand away from his grasp, and sit up from your bed with a pout. 

“You do not act like a god though.” You say jokingly. Jaehyun follows suit, sitting up to place his hands on your shoulder and kiss the nape of your neck. 

“And if we were to act the part we were given, you would be in another man’s bed, and I would be rampaging on the mortals who allowed it.”

You look at him doubtingly, eyes squinted as you lean closer and closer to him, “You wouldn’t dare.”

He closes the gap to a minuscule amount of space. You can feel his breath as he exhales in a breathy laugh that’s comforting in all the ways you knew, “I would if it means I have you.” He leans in to steal another kiss but you pull back to dodge his advance. His look is one of betrayal, a childish pout threatening your composure.

“If you’ll go to such lengths, why have you not stopped my betrothal already. It’s been years. My parents do not wish to have an unmarried 20-year-old. If I had not stalled I would have been bearing a child already.”

Jaehyun frowns at this, the reality of the situation never something he would like to think of. If it were up to him, he would steal you away in the dark of night, and live his days on tending to everything you need in a secluded paradise that was meant for you. But he is a god, and though the power he holds is incredible, everything cannot be up to his desires. 

“I’m trying.” He says curtly, not wanting to talk about the subject. You roll your eyes at this, losing tolerance and patience. 

“Are you?” You question and Jaehyun abruptly turns to you.

“I’ve talked to my father about you, my sister too.” His voice becomes spiteful, but not to you. As if he’s directing his words to the very people he speaks of. You watch his fists clench in disdain and you run your own hand over his in comfort.

“And what do they have to say?” 

“My sister hates mortals.”

You laugh, already knowing this. Gods and goddess did not care for mortals. They were only burdens, pawns of entertainment they may sway and manipulate for their own pleasure. You had no place by Jaehyun, you knew this. When you nod solemnly, Jaehyun goes on, tearing his gaze away from you to the view outside. He watches the starlight pour into the room, wondering how the Gods could create such beautiful things yet have souls as ugly as they are.  

“She wants me to discard of you.” He says and your lips purse. When he turns to you again, his hand raises to your face pulling you in for a kiss. But this did not feel like it was for you. It was meant to send a sign, to show the gods above and below that he wouldn’t stop. When he pulls away your breathless and your skin is hot from his touch. He draws himself away from you with a boyish smile and devious intentions,“I don’t take orders from my sister.” He kisses you again, except with enough force to push you onto your back.

You want to give in, every piece of you does. But when you open your eyes, you are pulled back to the reality of the situation, “But your father? Surely you are obligated to take orders from him.”

“He believes I’m making the biggest mistake any God could make.” He says quickly, before falling into you again. He hopes you don’t catch the way he emphasizes the word “god”. The way he says it with such mischief, it’s impossible to believe he doesn’t have anything planned. But he lies to you, kisses you sweetly to sway you away from the prospect because he knows what you would say. But he wants you too much, he won’t even let you get in the way of it.  

Jaehyun requests an appearance with his father with a plan of action. He will ask him to relinquish his godly status, to strip him of his title, so he may be with you in peace. He expects the reaction he gets, Zeus assuming he’s gone mad. He does not expect his most lethal sibling to be in attendance as well, however. He knows she is there for a reason, and he is sick just thinking of it. 

“Father, Jaehyun loves the humans now. How shameful.” Jaehyun’s sister says in a shrill voice. Gown dragging against the floor. Her voice was sharp, soaked in gasoline and lit a flame to every syllable that passed her lips. Her eyes were vehement, unfaltering even to the strongest warriors. If his father was the single most terrifying in the world, his sister was the second. For she lacked the mercy that many Gods held. She was ruthless in every sense of the word, he could not fathom what she would do to you if she was given the chance. She was a force that was not to be reckoned with, for dire consequence lie ahead if one dared. 

His father stands firmly in front of the young god. His air of calmness brings everything but. He shook the earth with a single breath, his words causing more calamity in its path. “No, Jaehyun loves only one. And perhaps that will be a far bigger mistake.” He replies, his gaze not tearing from his son’s eyes. Jaehyun takes a deep breath, not making the effort to interject, “You realize what you’re giving up, boy. You, a god of light, a god that many gods cannot dream to imitate, want to give all of that up. For a girl?” 

Jaehyun answers with a firm, yes, earning an offended scoff from his sister. His father, however, brings the world to silence with a fist to the wall beside him. Jaehyun’s surprised it doesn’t break beneath his hand, he must have been holding back-he thinks. 

“You are immortal. You will find thousands of women like her. You have the rest of the world to see, she is only a measly part of that. When she grows old and weary, you will not love her anymore, she will be noth-“

“Do not speak of her like that.” The way he says it makes even his sister hesitate. The sheer power that is projected through his words is frightening. His eyes burn with a fire so black, the heat that radiates is lethal. They did not know he could hold such passion, manipulate the tension within the room to the point that it’s suffocating. “I will never live another day of my life without loving her. She is a part of me now, spiting her, you are spiting me. You said it yourself father, I have acquitted much power within myself.”

His father doesn’t say a word for a moment and Jaehyun decides he rather he openly showed his wrath. Because the look that Jaehyun is given is one of pure evil. One that has been stripped of mercy, leaving pour souls dead and buried and rolling through their graves in pain. The look sends regret through Jaehyun in a split second, his breath being stuck in his throat for long he thinks he has forgotten how to in the first place. 

“Even the greatest of gods need to be put in their place.”

When Jaehyun returns to the mortal world, he is broken and beaten. He stumbles into your palace, pushing past servants in a frantic hurry. He falls to his knees, trying to bear the excruciating pain he feels from his father’s hands. Though immortal, he feels as though he might die, and when he thinks of what could possibly happen to you he really thinks he will. For he will take any pain in the world, twice over, every day of his long-lived life, but if your life was jeopardy he doesn’t believe he’ll make it. 

His sudden desire to find you erupts as he watches his sister leave the site in the midst of his punishment with a mischievous grin painted on her face. Her eyes make way to his head between a banister and the grip of his father, dripping with malignant intentions, and a hand raises to wave goodbye to him delicately. It is the same eyes he sees walk past him now, leaving your quarters. They are just as sharp, as lethal as he has always known. But he doesn’t linger long enough to say because soon as he comprehends the weight of the situation before him, he is rushing into your room. 

Though Jaehyun has lived years, upon years of war, of violence, he believes he will never see a sight as terrifying as what’s before him. You lie on your bed, gasping for air, the flowing cloth of your gown becoming soaked in rivers of crimson. A cry escapes Jaehyun’s throat as he runs to your side. He feels himself losing focus, his head dizzying by the second. He lifts you onto his lap, trying to press his hand against the wounds on your body. 

“Would you still choose me?” The way your voice falters with an exhausted push through your chest tears apart his entire resolve. His body shakes as he holds you, tears he didn’t know he could produce falling onto your face. His hand brushes the sweat-soaked strands of hair out of your face, a futile attempt to take away a piece of the discomfort. He begins with an aggressive nod of his head, eyes focusing on your face to keep his attention on the lower half of your body. He didn’t want to see how serious it really was, he didn’t want to know how slim your chances were becoming. 

“Of course, but I suppose you’ve known my choice for a while now.” You smile at this, the pain becoming so lasting, you almost feel numb to it. Jaehyun wonders how you could remain so bright despite the circumstance but he decides that it is precisely why he had loved you so fast and so relentlessly. Your hand meets his where it lays on your cheek and you use all of your power to squeeze it gently.

“So I get to choose then?” You ask, voice getting so faint he must lean in to decipher your words. 

“Yes, you do get to choose.” His voice trembles, teeth pulling his bottom lip in a tight grip. You look away from his face to think for a moment, a quiet hum escaping your lips. He coughs to regain your attention; eyes training themselves back on the beautiful boy that you’ll lose far too soon. You occupy yourself with memorizing the lines of his face, the curve of his lip; the feather-light lashes that brush against his cheekbones. You want to know his face in death, you want his to be the face you’ll greet mere seconds from now, “should I be concerned about your choice?”

You laugh with a shake of your head, your senses becoming duller than you remember. The edges of your vision fade to charcoal blur, yet the fear you once held dissolves into content of where you were.

“No. “ You reply bluntly, aware of the very small window left before you, “I already chose, a decade ago.” Your eyes flutter shut in a helpless attempt to stay conscious, to stay present for him.  He brings both hands to your face frantically, whispering a line of frantic pleas for time. You swear you hear him utter his father's name on a whim to save you. You feel yourself open your eyes once more, “I chose you when we were eleven, I chose you every day I had you, I’ll choose you in death until you come back to me.” 

Jaehyun lets out an exasperated sob as he watches your eyes shut for the last time, and he curses the very core of the earth he walks in. Your body goes limp in his arms yet he continuous to hug you in hopes to feel your arms tighten around him. His voice becomes an incomprehensible string of screams, the bloodcurdling nature informing the rest of the servants who wait outside in fear of what just occurred before them. 

He stays until the crowd dissipates and he’s left with the agonizingly quiet air you have left. His knees bleed a dark crimson from the hours he has spent kneeling on the ground. His voice is coarse, any sign of life escaping as well. The world disappears around him. The ground, the sky, the greenery that lines the edges of your walls, fade into an excruciating oblivion. For when you died, everything that was beautiful and sweet died with you. A conspicuous reminder of the hole you so stubbornly left within the young warrior. 

When you died, Jaehyun dies with you, and in the end, he wonders if it were for the better.

It is the warm spring of your sixteenth year when you find a peculiar boy picking off bites from your father's crop. A boy your age, and radiates a burst of light that illuminated in your presence. He bites from a fig, juice dripping down his face sloppily, but he wipes it off with a smile. 

The way he looks at you hurts, though you aren’t sure why. He looks at you like he’s been waiting for you, and he exhales like he’s been holding his breath until this very moment. He looks as if he’s been searching, searching every day of his life, and he has finally found what he lost. He looks at you and a sudden rush of emotion pushes through you. You do not know what to feel, and you do not know if you want to cry from complete happiness or overwhelming despair. But you’re crying and you do not know why, and this boy in front of you does not look the least bit surprised.

You wipe a tear from your face as you catch your breath and collect yourself. “Do I know you?”

He shines brightly in the dullness that fills your life and a single breath is held in your throat. He moves closer to you with the same smile, one that breaks in you into a million pieces, scatters for him to pick up. And by the way he looks at you, you know he will.

“I am just a friend.”

[dream-chaser]

firsts don't last | ❀

a/n: not proofread! but please do enjoy c: this chapter doesn’t really have angst nor (physically) you yet. this might have at least three parts (if not more) so there.

genre: angst ❀ additional: lgbtq+ (f/m, f/f, m/m) main pairing/s: mark x reader, jaemin x reader side/minor pairing/s: donghyuck x female oc, renjun x jeno, chenle x jisung, female oc x female oc words: 2k story summary: It’s been two years ever since the ‘weird girl’ left to go abroad. This year, she comes back with a new friend and a whole new ‘glo up’ that makes those who spoke badly of her swallow back their words. Jaemin isn’t one of them but his friends are, before her arrival they make a bet.

parts: part 1 | part 2 | part 3

part 1 summary: News spread around and amongst the students of NHS and the neighborhood that the ‘weird girl’ is coming back, another is that there will be a new student. Unbeknownst to them, the so-called ‘weird girl’ and new student are best friends.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Hey, have you heard that-” Donghyuck cuts his girlfriend off, “The weird girl who left two years ago is coming back? Yeah you told us a bunch of times already.”

His girlfriend – well, not really his girlfriend – Jung Seohyun, rolled her eyes, “Okay yeah that, but there’s going to be a new student too.”

At this, Donghyuck perks up a little bit, “Really now?”

“Is it a guy?” Jeno queries, “We need a new addition to our group.”

Jaemin joins the conversation, nodding, “Although I think either Hyuck or Jeno would scare him off.” Earning a laugh from Jeno and Seohyun, Donghyuck glares for a moment before smiling.

“It’s the truth! Jen might scare the poor guy off by excessive flirting and Hyuck can be the first impression Hyuck and easily make him regret coming over.” Jaemin remarks, ending with a derp face and shrug. Jeno laughs at this, completely agreeing as Donghyuck only shrugs, not really minding.

Seohyun pats Donghyuck’s head, “He’s not that bad.”

“Aww, Seohyun is affectionate, there’s no crowd to show for.” Jeno teases, pointing at the hand resting on Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“Hey! I can be affectionate if I want to be. Hyuck and I may be ‘dating’ for reputation purposes but he’s an overall nice guy.” She defends.

That was the first time a small smile ghosted on his face, a smile caused by Seohyun.

Two days later, the four are in Jaemin’s backyard and talking about how they’ll get the new kid to join their little group.

“What if the new student will be a girl, then?” Seohyun asks as Donghyuck shrugs, “Then I guess Jaemin has a chance of getting a girlfriend and you’ll have a girl best friend.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes at this, he wasn’t really interested in getting a girlfriend unless he actually finds someone who could spark interest. So far, there wasn’t.

A thought crosses Jeno’s mind and laughs, “What if the new student turns out to be the weird girl after all?” At that, a jacket flies to his face, “No way, they’ll be two separate people.”

“Well what if they turn out to be friends? What if the new guy is as weird or even weirder than she is?” Jeno challenges, “Well goodbye to him then.” She shudders.

Jaemin’s eyebrow quirks as he questions his friends, “What made earn the title of ‘weird girl’ anyway?”

Seohyun dramatically gasps and clutches her chest for more effect, “Jaemin, why is that a question?” The questioned boy just shrugs in reply, “I don’t see why you guys called her a weird girl? Is it because she looks weird, is that it?”

“Her glasses make her look ugly, plus her braces and how she styles her hair. And God, have you seen her fashion ‘taste’? It’s nonexistent!” She exclaims as he tries to remember the times he saw her walk out the house across his, if she was wearing something unusual. He doesn’t seem to remember if there was an instance. If you haven’t realized yet, they’re neighbors.

Jaemin’s face scrunches, “I don’t remember her wearing anything remotely unconventional or eccentric? Is it just how she looks?” This time, it was Seohyun’s turn to scrunch her face, “The hell Jaemin? You got a thing for her or something?”

“No, I don’t. I just don’t see your point of calling her a weird girl just because she wears clothes that aren’t branded or in trend like you, or because she wears glasses and braces and styles her hair to something you find weird, or simply because you don’t like her for some reason. Dare I say I bet you two never even shared a full conversation with each other.” He expounds, “Besides, I’m sure she has better brains and grades than all of us combined.”

At this, Jeno and Donghyuck doesn’t really mind the fact that they just got indirectly called stupid, nor the fact that she calls said girl ‘weird’, they only really just joined her for some reason, Jaemin never actually joined in that though. On the other hand, Seohyun is fuming, “Did you just call me stupid?”

“And a little tactless, yeah.” He answers in an indifferent tone. The female brunette looks like she’s about to explode of annoyance. Jaemin only adds a little fuel to the fire, “I mean, in my perspective, it’s not very valid of one to call another ‘weird’ just because they simply don’t fit their standards. If anything, you’re the kind of the weird one for even starting that up upon some shallow rationale. It’s not like she ate paper or picks her nose and eats boogers.”

“I mean, I doubt she does. Neither of us know remotely anything about her. You only spread the most ridiculously spurious rumors. And for what gain? What kind of reward do you bag from it? The best rumor maker of all time?” He spits, “I don’t know what your problem is with her, or any other opposing person you seem to have the smallest amount of disliking for, but get your nose out of their business and rid shit from your mouth, it’s not your ass, Jung.”

All the three of them gawk at Jaemin in disbelief but for different reasons. Before the angered girl could pounce onto him, a familiar voice calls for Jaemin, “Jaemin dear! Please come inside and do me a favor.”

He stands up, “You guys can stay here or come along. Hyuck, help your little girlfriend sort herself out. She’s more shallow than a three feet kid’s pool.”

With that, he turns on his heel to head back inside the house, his friends not following.

This was the first time Jaemin and Seohyun had fought in front of their friends.

“Jaemin dear, please bring these pastries to the Lee family who just moved across beside the Y/L/N’s house. Plus, I heard one of their son’s the new student who’s around your age as well. Invite them over for our dinner too, okay?” His mom requests as he nods obediently and takes the tray of pastries.

Jaemin walks out the door. Immediately, Jaemin spots the moving truck about to leave. Then he looks both ways of the street before making his way to the house across by the left side.

Once he arrives by the front door, he rings the bell, “Hi there! I live across the block and would like to offer you some snacks for a warm welcome.” Jaemin says as a male voice replies through the intercom, “Oh I see. Hold on for a moment!”

The door buzzes and a tall and lean figure with pink hair greets him with a grin, “Come in.” He urges as he lets the younger boy walk in their house, “Mom, we have a guest.”

Moments later, a woman walks out what Jaemin assumes as the kitchen with a warm smile, “Hi Mrs. Lee, I’m Na Jaemin from the family who lives across from here. My mom made these pastries as a welcome.” He reciprocates the warm smile as he hands out the tray, the older woman happily taking it, “How thoughtful.”

“We’re also inviting you over for dinner at seven if you’d like to join us.” Jaemin adds, “Of course, dear. Thank you for this.” The sweet woman replies, making Jaemin smile like a kid, “No problem Mrs. Lee.”

“Hm,” the pink-haired figure hums, “How old are you, Jaemin?” Jaemin is taken aback at this question, “I’m born on the 13th of August 2000.”

“Where do you study?” He inquires again, “Neo High School.”

“Son, you’re creeping the poor boy out.” His mother laughs from the kitchen as he laughs as well, rubbing his nape awkwardly, “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Jaemin replies, chuckling softly. A hand extends towards him, “I’m Lee Taeyong, born July 1st of 1995 and new student of Neo University.”

Before either Jaemin or Taeyong could utter another word, Jaemin’s had phone started to ring, “I’m sorry, excuse me for a moment.” Taeyong kindly nods at him. Jaemin stands up to exit by the front door to answer the call.

“What?” Jaemin answers exasperatedly, it was Seohyun who was calling.

He hears a sigh, already knowing she’s annoyed again, “Listen, I just want to know if you met the new kid yet.”

“No, not yet. Hold your horses Seohyun.” He jeers, getting more and more annoyed with every passing second that he hears her voice.

He could practically sense her rolling her eyes, “Whatever, just come back now. Your mom’s looking for you already.” And with that, the call was ended.

He walks back in the house to bid goodbye, “My apologies, my mother’s calling me already. We’ll see you during dinner right?”

“Of course, dear. See you later!” Mrs. Lee exclaims, poking her head out from the kitchen, “Catch you later, Jaemin.” Taeyong waves.

The younger boy curtly bows before taking his leave, “Have a nice rest of the day!”

And that was how he met two out of four of the Lee family.

Once the boy leaves and is out of earshot, the youngest Lee pokes his head out from the staircase, “Coast is clear?” He asks as his brother pretends to chuck a slipper at him, “You little noodlehead!”

The youngest laughs as he descends down the stairs, “Sorry, I didn’t really feel in the mood to meet some new boy already.” Their mother playfully scoffs, “Well you should be in the mood now, you only helped lifting one box so I’m going to need you to find a convenience store to buy some snacks and drinks.”

“Mom!” He whines in complaint, “It’s just a few, I’m sure there’s one nearby. You can ask the neighbors for directions.” She suggests. Taeyong is quick to add, “The Jaemin kid I just met seems nice, if he’s outside you can ask him.”

The boy is reluctant, but he can’t really decline so he just shrugs, “Okay.” He simply responds as his brother hands him money, “You know our exactly what to buy.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He playfully sticks his tongue out at his elder brother, “Go!”

He laughs a little as he opens their door to head outside. Once he closes it and turns to face the street, he sees a small group of friends that seemed around his age, three boys and a girl. He was debating with himself whether or not he should ask them for directions. He ended up settling to just look for a convenience store himself.

But the group not so far away from him had other plans, he internally panics a little as in his peripheral vision he sees them approaching his direction. He halts his step when he hears a somewhat familiar voice say, “Hey wait up!”

He turns on his heel slowly, only the slightest bit anxious, “Hi?”

One of them, Jeno, laughs at his timidity “Cute.” He mutters to himself as Donghyuck elbows him from his left side, clearly hearing what he just muttered to himself.

“You’re one of the Lees right?” The one with the somewhat familiar voice asked as he nodded. An arm was extended towards him, “I’m Na Jaemin, your neighbor from across.”

He shakes it lightly, “Nice to meet you.”

The girl between the orange and black haired boys stepped out to introduce herself to the new boy.

“And I’m Jung Seohyun, pleasure to meet you.” She seemed a little excited and the latter smiled awkwardly.

“I’m her boyfriend, Lee Donghyuck.” The orange haired boy introduced, giving off a certain intimidating aura.

The black haired boy next to Donghyuck gave off a smile, his eyes crinkling a little as well, “I’m Lee Jeno!”

“He’s not my brother by the way.” Donghyuck adds as the other three chuckle, the new boy joining in as well but an awkward and uncertain tone laced with it.

“You need directions for somewhere?” Jaemin queries carefully and the other nods before responding, “Yeah, actually. Convenience store.”

The girl – Seohyun, nods a little too enthusiastically, “Oh great, we were just heading there! You can come with.”

“Thank you.” he nods thankfully, he felt a light punch by his right shoulder, it was Jeno. “Don’t be so nervous around us, we don’t bite.”

The latter lets out a genuine chuckle at this, “My apologies.”

Jaemin shrugs, “No sweat.” Donghyuck adds in, “What’s your name by the way?”

“Mark Lee.”

And that was the first time they meet Mark Lee.

[saebaragi]

why can't i be them?

[junjungsunwoo]

<< 6:57p.m>>

(Ignore the fact that this was actually posted in the middle of the night)

-> Jaehyun x reader (ft. Taeyong)

-> 0.597

-> Angst

-> @geniejunn, @kvydence

-> @knet-bakery @supermwritersnet @k-dinernet @kpop-script @foreverkpop-net​

-> main masterlist | nct main masterlist | nct 127 masterlist

You and Jaehyun stood as you both watched your kids play on the swings, watching them as they take turns pushing each other while laughing in joy.

The family of four all had smiles on their faces, as the women picks up the small boy and placed him on the swing he wanted to get on, while the man does the same for the little girl.

The family of four all had smiles on their faces, as the women picks up the small boy and placed him on the swing he wanted to get on, while the man does the same for the little girl.

The family of four all had smiles on their faces, as the women picks up the small boy and placed him on the swing he wanted to get on, while the man does the same for the little girl.

Laughter and giggles could be heard as the family had fun in their own world, not minding anyone or anything else.

“That could’ve been us.” Jaehyun says for the first time since he’s met you here coincidentally, his eyes now focused on you.

“It could have been,” you told him as you start to get your stuff that was laid out in the bench table next to where you stood. “it would’ve been. If only you didn’t…” you hesitate to continue. What he did years ago never healed, it still had hurt you to this very day.

Picking up all of your stuff, you begin to walk over to your child as you feel Jaehyun pull you back by your wrist.

“Please,” he begs you, “please- let me try again.” His eyes teary, and his lips trembling.

You shake his hold off, and you began to walk even faster towards your child as you see your boyfriend Taeyong standing near his car waiting for you.

As you were leaving the park, you let your son run to his soon-to-be step-father. You feel a hand grabbing onto your wrist again, this time it’s grip stronger, harder to break through.

“He’s my child too, I’m his father!” Crystal tears were now running down his face, as he begs you one more time. “Please, let me just try again. Please- I love you so much-“ you cut his sentence off.

“If you had really loved me,” you paused, taking in deep breaths before continuing, “then you never should’ve cheated on me with my best friend and got her pregnant too.” Tears were gathering up in your eyes as well now, as you once again breaks through his hold on you, and you walk away- wiping your tears with the back of your hand, and never looking back to see the man you once loved- a man you still love, heartbroken, crying and a girl you once thought you could trust behind him- holding onto his child while glaring holes onto your back.

As you reached your boyfriend’s car, he kisses you on the forehead. You wrap your arms around him as you peek thought the back window and you see you son sound asleep in his own seat. You lay your head in his chest as he gave you words of encouragement, telling you how proud he was that you could face Jaehyun again, after all the pain he’s caused you.

“I love you,” you told him, “I love you, and I’m sorry.” You cry in his arms.

Tears began to run down Taeyong’s face as well when he hears your words. He knows exactly why you are apologizing-

You loved him, you loved Taeyong. But nothing could ever replace the love you had for Jaehyun.

@ junjungsunwoo, all rights reserved.