#nct 2018 fanfiction

[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.  

[sweetiesicheng]

jaehyun - day off

word count : 684

-

"no, yea, sounds good. yea, see you later. you too, bye.”

you woke up for the second time that morning when you heard your boyfriend talking. the conversation was already over when you realized it, and jaehyun hung up, putting his phone on the nightstand with a light thump.

"well?" you rolled over and hugged him, noticing that his tank top moved around in his body and was not correctly oriented.

"i have the day off,” he announced. you squeezed him tightly in response, "stop hugging me,” he demanded.

"i'm cold."

"baby, let me go shower. i'll be back in like ten minutes," jaehyun said while trying to get out of bed. "we're going to have to leave eventually for those dinner reservations tonight," he said and kissed your lips. "you know, you'd probably be less cold if you would wear a sweater instead of the tank top.”

"it's uncomfortable," you said and buried your head in his neck. "can we just stay in bed all day?" you asked.

"did you not just hear me about the dinner reservations?" jaehyun asked before sighing. "come here," he said and pulled you up to lay on his chest. "good morning." you started laughing. "what's so funny?" he asked.

"you're just now saying that to me? we've been awake for awhile now," you answered.

"so what? i'm not allowed to say it again? it's still morning, and technically you fell asleep, so i can say it again to you," jaehyun replied and kissed your forehead. "okay, shower time," he said and pushed you back onto your side of the bed.

"hey! i'm cold!" you whined as you tried to grab him, but jaehyun was too quick and got out of bed. "you suck.”

"let's make something to eat," jaehyun suggested as he walked into the bathroom. you heard the shower being turned on a few seconds after.

you curled up into a ball and almost fell back asleep while jaehyun took his shower. after a few minutes, you sat up and huffed out a sigh. jaehyun came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"you look cute," jaehyun said as he walked into the closet and grabbed clothes to change into.

"i am very cute," you said. "can you throw me a hoodie?" you asked him.

"mine or yours?" he asked.

"yours, of course," you replied. jaehyun grabbed a hoodie from a shelf and threw it at you. the hoodie landed on the edge of the bed and you reached over for it. you put the hoodie in and finally got out of bed.

you yawned and stood in the middle of the bedroom while jaehyun had changed into a t-shirt and grey sweats. he walked over to you and put your hands in his face while kissing your forehead.

"i think you could use some coffee," jaehyun chuckled. "i'll go cook us breakfast. you can go be your cute, sleepy self and put on a record or two on," he said and kissed your forehead again.

you just nodded and waddled out of the room while jaehyun followed you out. you went into the living room and sat in front of the record player that was on a small table. you went through a plastic box that held your shared vinyls and pulled out one of the records. you put the record on and turned the player on. music started playing while you heard sizzling from the kitchen.

after some time, jaehyun came out of the kitchen with some plates. "nice music choice," he commenter and walked back into the kitchen. he came out with a mug and you immediately took it into your hands.

"thank you, babe," you said and took a sip of coffee.

"that was actually my coffee," jaehyun said and walked back into the kitchen. he came back with another mug and another plate. you sat with him in the couch and took another sip.

"love you," you said to him.

"love you too, baby," he replied before leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

[fillinforlater]

what's your kpop journey ? (how you got into it, your first groups and biased, your opinion on kpop before etc.)

Thank you for the ask, my tired brain will try it's best to talk about how what when happened and yeah... let's go

Early Phase (2012-2016)

Basically me knowing that Psy exists because of Gangnam Style and later Gentleman. Young me really enjoyed those songs, but there was no real connection to korea or the idea/culture of kpop.

Then my sister introduced me to the song Tomorrow by BTS but because I was in my anime phase at the time, I just put it in my anime playlist. I fucking loved the song tho lol.

No bias, no real opinion either lol.

BLACKPINK Phase (2018-2019)

I don't really know how but I found Blackpink and started to vibe with their songs and style, which got really enhanced by their dance of DDU-DU DDU-DU on Just Dance 2019, which i played a lot. I got into them a bit more and my sister (who was a kpop fan behind my back basically kek) showed me Monster of EXO and Don't Wanna Cry of SEVENTEEN.

I was deinitely not a kpop fan, hell, I had no real clue about the culture or other groups or the fact that BTS, who I had one random song of was currently on and unprecedented rise. Everything was set in place, but I was still only danving to D4 lol

Lisa is my bias, though I dunno what that is yet lol. I like Blackpink, but the concept of kpop was not yet really in my mind.

Covid-Lockdown Phase (March 2020-May 2020)

This was the void. There was nothing to do, nothing thag mattered. All responsibilities were on hold. Time to watch vids my siblings to pass the time.

What are they watching? Asian men I do not understand? Looks... fun! With every day, every video, every song I add to my playlist I fall deeper into this glorious hole that is kpop. Like a sponge, I suck up all the content until I am this weird multistan with no sense of direction but the unbridled want to know more and to listen to more.

Blackpink, then BTS, then Twice, the it was already basically everyone else. Kpop filled my time with more fun than everything else could have. Life, strangely, was perfect. During a fucking lockdown, I reached a peek that continued.

My favorite group is BTS by a HUUUGE margin, my bias is switching between Lisa, Jin and Dahyun.

Deeper Into the Hole (June 2020-March 2021)

I add more groups to the list I like. KARD, Red Velvet, Mamamoo, EXO, NCT, SEVENTEEN, Everglow, aespa, TXT, ATEEZ... it never seems to stop. New releases left and right filling my mind to the point were even drastic changes in life cannot shake me up. I'm still falling, reaching deeper for more.

I find songs that I love to death. Answer by ATEEZ especially has me with adrenaline on every listen. It is about now that I find it not that difficult to remember names of members and that I see some (especially) female idols as very pretty.

BTS best group, Dahyun best girl.

K-Pop-Fan (April 2021-August 2021)

Basically yeah. Multistan that had commited to IZ*ONE last second because they were more than just good... they were literally the greatest girl group ever... though I have yet to realize it.

My life is going quite well, I have fun, I don't get tired of this genre that id more than music. It's stupid game shows, funny compilations, memes, stupid takes and pretty people. Around this time I get a bit spicy, reading fanfiction, dumb W*ttp*d stuff with crazy stories until...

Smut. Fuck, since when were TWICE this hot???

But this WP stuff is quite cringey... so I looked around and found Tumblr. First was Peach, then ddeun and then... Levi.

BTS best group, TWICE a close second, Dahyun best girl, Nayeon and Minju were in the hunt.

Smite, Smut and Smusic (September 2021-March 2022)

I messaged Levi (basically just a fanboy letter lol) and he encouraged me to try writing myself. The last time I wrote creatively was 2016, so I really doubted that I could pull something off.

About a week later, I'm in this server with all these cool smut writers and yeah... everything went crazy lol. My life was different and so was my kpop life. The visual effect of idols grew exponentionally, from very high to absurd, yet I still found myself finding beauty and attractiveness in other people around me. I dunno how to explain it lol.

I was writing, listening and also chatting with these new amazing friends that helped me navigate through what were difficult times while also being incredibly talented. My hobby of kpop now turned to another hobby with a new group of friends which grew to great importance in this phase.

BTS an inch before IZ*ONE, Minju easily my new ult.

That's my life (April 2022-now???)

A lot of stuff happened in this time frame but my attitude towards kpop, this community, writing or idols hasn't changrd too drastically. I saw my first concert, that was awesome. IVE rocks my world, other 4th gen groups fight their way to my heart, while I still really love older stuff.

I reach thousands of followers, find new insanely pretty and hot idols, write way too many fucking stories about fucking lol. I listen to almost everything, kpop is still my No. 1 hobby, yet it never overtook my whole personality.

BTS-IZ*ONE-IVE, Minju remains No. 1 but I love so many other idols, especially Yujin and Gaeul.

If you read all this, thank you, have a nice day!

[starillusion13]

ISN’T THIS SURPRISING THAT HE WAS THE REASON I GOT INTO THIS FANFICTION WORLD AND I HAVE READ ALL NCT FANFICS EVERYWHERE SINCE 2018…but I HAVENT WRITTEN A SINGLE FIC ON HIM…HE IS MY ULTIMATE OF THE ULTIMATES…THERE IS NOT A SINGLE FIC ON HIM😭🥀

LEE TAEYONG IS MARRIED TO ME…real real…🌱💚

If you don’t believe me then you can ask Yuta🤠

[elfdastiel91]

Guess I should introduce myself :)

Hello I'm Dastiel! I've been a K-Pop fan since 2012. First group I got into was SHINee. Then slowly it became my whole world, I am Korean-American, my mother was born and raised for 6 years in Korea before moving to the US.

I am a multistan, but Super Junior is where my heart lies. They are my ultimate bias group, Leeteuk being my ultimate bias. He is the best freaking leader not only Super Junior could ask for but K-Pop as a whole could ask for. This man has given so much to this industry. And has gone through so much heartbreak and pain and yet still he perseveres. As you can tell I am completely devoted to him so I will not tolerate any hate.

Some of the other groups I am a fan of...(there's a lot ;)) and my bias or biases if i have more than one

SHINee (Minho and Taemin)

Big Bang (Taeyang)

Block B (Taeil)

iKon (Jay and June)

GOT7 (AmeriThaiKong, Mark Tuan, BamBam, and Jackson Wang)

BTS (Kim SeokJin)

EXO (Sehun and Suho)

NCT (mainly 127) (Johnny and Jaehyun)

Seventeen (still trying to get the members correct lol don't know why it is taking me so long!) (Vernon)

Ateez (Jongho)

Twice (Momo)

AESPA (Winter)

Red Velvet (all of them honestly)

BlackPink (Rose)

Stray Kids (Felix)

Wanna One (Daniel)

Monsta X (Hyungwon and I.M)

Pentagon (Jinho, Hui, and Wooseok)

I think that is all for right now, I have a whole list of K-Pop artists I need to get into.

I have been writing K-Pop fanfictions since about summer of 2018. I write mostly dark fanfics but occasionally smut as well. If you want to follow me and read any of my fics here's a link but please be mindful of the tags!

[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™

[peachymhaechan]

“Wait... You’re the Little Voice Inside My Head?”

Genre: fluff, soulmate! au; you can hear your soulmate’s thoughts, which isn’t always the best thing

Pairing: Lucas X gender neutral reader

Warnings: cussing, you will have a cavity by the end of this it’s too damn sWEEt

A/N: wong yukhei can stay in his mcfreakin lane:)) okay:)) this hurt me to write he truly did make his way up my bias list and I am .? okay,, I guess this is what we are doing

ever since you were little, you always heard voices inside your head

those voices being 1. you, and 2. a little boy you had never heard out loud in your life

the first time you heard him was when you were four, playing with an imaginary friend in your room

I wonder what Mommy is making for dinner, you thought and lo and behold

I want my mommy to make something without vegetables!

uhhhhhhhhh .?

that was not your voice

but you being a four year old with an imaginary friend, you were like “cool I guess, sometimes it be that way” 

at dinner you brought it up to your parents, but of course they passed it off as your imaginary friends

I mean,, lets be real

you were little and ran around the house all day talking to your imaginary friends, so that was the logical explanation in that situation

that was only the first incident you had with the boy speaking in your head

and lemme just say, as y’all got older, it only got wilder

you only knew that he heard what you thought for one reason

he’d always, and I mean ALWAYS

respond

one time in elementary school, your class was taking a math test and you had no fuckin clue what was going on

uhhhhhhh what the frick is 8 times 9 divided by 2 plus 4???

don’t worry tho, your mystery boy came in clutch

40! The answer is 40! his little voice chimed, saving your ass and being the reason you scraped by with a b

as time went on, you heard him more and more, and occasionally yall would have full conversations

only when you got older did you realize

shit dawg, this is my soulmate

once you hit middle school, you finally sat your parents down and basically said

that imaginary friend that would talk in my head when I was little hasn’t gone away and im pretty sure that’s my soulmate quirk

of course your parents were like. oh ? worm ? 

you explained to them the whole thing tho

“ive had legitimate conversations with him before, he hears some of my thoughts and I hear his. I can’t really control what all he hears, though, and neither can he, so it’s very weird to hear things out of context.” 

the entire time your parents sat there, both confused and happy

on one hand, they didn’t fully understand how it all worked, 

and on the other, they were proud because their lil baby was all grown up, talking to their soulmate!! moving towards the second part of their life !!

from that moment, your quirk progressed even more

you started to talk to him more and more, and he heard more and more of your thoughts

it was odd, really, because everybody has thoughts that make them guilty

you know, thoughts that can embarrass you for even thinking them?? 

not because they’re dumb (although let’s be real, everyone has their fair share of dumb thoughts), 

but because you know they’re mean:/

one night you were up thinking that,

thinking: you probably hate me…. all of my thoughts are so mean and harmful, and it brings me shame to know that I can be so vile to people without even meaning to. I’m sorry…. I wouldn’t blame you for hating me. 

for some reason, your mystery boy was awake (bitch go tf to sleep it’s three in the damn morning) and he responded

hey, two things…. 1. you’re such a dumbass, and 2. it’s not your thoughts that matter, but how you react to them afterward. the fact that you think your thoughts can come off as mean show that you care, and that you’re not as shitty of a person that you think you are. 

listen,,, we all know lucas ain’t always that deep but we can pretend for this au ok

you sat there in complete shock and then he went, anyways you adorable idiot, go to sleep, you have finals in the morning. 

from that night on, you talked to him more and more

had a bad day? lucas would know all about it as soon as you got home

lucas did something embarrassing while out in public? you’d hear about it while in public as he tried not to spontaneously combust

you will never believe what I just did…. the barista told me to have a good day and I said “you’re welcome”

of course you laughed,,, that dumbass is supposed to be your soulmate ?? 

how

but you told him chill dude, everyone says shit like that sometimes, it happens to the best of us 

he was with you during your cringey phases (as you were with him during his) 

he was there the first time you had your heart broken

your friends all told you not to date the popular basketball player, but you said yeet I guess and well

lucas consoled you as you cried, not over that boy but over yourself for thinking something like that could work

“I don’t know why I even tried. He isn’t you, and he never will be. Hell, I don’t even know your damn name but I know we fit together more than that guy and I ever could.” 

that night was the first night you learned his name, wong yukhei, or lucas as his friends called him

“My name is Wong Yukhei, but my friends call me Lucas. And I’m sorry some guy treated you like shit. You don’t deserve to be treated like that, you deserve the whole world. I wish I knew who you were, where you were, so I can finally meet you and tell you everything I never told you.”

and that was the first night he learned your name 

“y/n, my name is y/n, and I know we are going to meet soon. I just know it. I can feel it.” 

and you were kind of right ??

it all depends on what your definition of soon is tbh

bc that whole sappy convo took place in your junior year of high school

and y’all met in college !!

it was high key odd and not at all how either of you planned to meet, tho

it was your first week at college, and you were nervous af

parents? gone. responsibilities? crippling. adulting? expected. 

you finished moving in a while ago, and by then had met your not so pleasant roommate 

let’s just say uhhhhhh this roommate had been a complete and utter dickhead

so you threw on some shoes, grabbed your laptop and wallet, and went to the library on campus

after all, it was only the first week, there shouldn't be too many

you walked in and the first thing you saw was someone crying and saying “FUCK SCHOOL” 

naturally you were like, “bitch me too. tf?” 

but decided to not say that to that kid so you quickly skrrted the fuck out there (yote, if you will)

as you dipped real quick, you went through your options in your head

coffee? target? dorms? 

coffee seemed like your best bet, so you hauled your ass to the campus café 

as soon as the door opened, stress melted from your mind

i’ll drink to that, bro

the place was not too busy, it was during the middle of the day so people were either asleep or busy

there wasn't a line so you walked up to the person working at the register 

“shit fuck what should I order from this coffee place??” 

“mountain dew with two shots of espresso” - the ever so helpful Wong Yukhei

“okay what the fuck??” 

“lemme get uhhhhhhh iced coffee I guess,” you said, paying and waiting for your drink

while waiting, you went and grabbed a straw, and out of the corner of your eye you spotted a fuckin. GiAnt enter the establishment

he seemed goofy tho,,, so u were like. ok. cool. pop off, I guess. 

you couldn’t hear him speak, but inside your head you heard, “Iced coffee.” 

“yeah, what about it? I already ordered it, you’re a little late.” 

he did not respond which had you going ?? miss keisha, miss keisha, oh my fucking god she fucking dead !

you patiently waited for your cold bean juice while the guy paid and literally stumbled right by your feet to get a straw for himself

before you could ask if the Clumsy Giant was okay, the barista called out, “ Y/N!” 

you went to pick up the drink, and felt two eyes drilling holes in the back of your head

naturally, you turned around like. ? we got beef? 

but found the actually kinda cute boy staring at you in shock

“What?” you sheepishly asked, not sure if you had something on your face or if something was genuinely wrong, which would explain why that weirdo stared dead at you 

???

“Y/N.... y-your name is Y/N?” he asked, and his voice clicked right away

fuck, dude

you already knew the answer, 

you could recognize that voice anywhere

but you still wanted to ask and make sure you are not dreaming

however, before you could ask, 

the barista called out his name

“Lucas!” 

f u c k, dude

“Wong Yukhei?” 

“Y/N L/N?” 

you two both broke out into a grin upon hearing the other say your name out loud

yall clung to each other, wrapping the other in a huge hug

meanwhile, the barista was standing behind the counter, waiting for lucas to grab his drink like :/ i’ll wait!

“this is touching, and all.... but can you please grab your coffee?” 

“THAT IS MY SOULMATE!” lucas announced, obviously giddy at finding you

and tbh, you were feeling it, too

yall sat down at a little table and for a while, just stared at the person sitting across from the other

then, “I’m glad I met you.” 

“Me, too,” he agreed

and thus the start of a relationship with pretty much no communication issues ever, 

mostly due to the fact that there were no secrets 

not that either of you minded, because lets face it

you two had souls that were reflections from one another, and you can’t hide a secret from yourself so why would you hide a secret from him? 

[peachy-beomie]

Fellas, is it Gay to Kiss The Homies? <TEN-CENTRIC>

Genre: Light Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Kunten (Qian Kun x Ten Lee) and implied (Ten x Everyone) [ALL SHIPS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PLATONIC]

Word Count: 1455

Warnings: Fluff overdose, might give you diabetes /t

Synopsis: Ten just really likes kisses and he wants to give them to his friends. That’s it.

A/N: I wrote this wanting it to be Platonic!Kunten but tbh it may have gotten away from me a little bit so believe what you want ig

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30021543

Ten has always been overly affectionate. In the eyes of Weishennies, Winwin and Yangyang bear the brunt of it. On variety shows and lives Ten can sometimes be found floating around one of his two didis or entirely attached to them. It’s become a joke among fans and members, the way Ten calls Yangyang baby while the maknae responds with countless protests and whines. But something fans are unaware of is that off-camera, the Thai male’s affection extends to all the members. Ten is known to demand touches from most any friend in reach. Even Kun, despite the pairs’ constant bickering. The WayV members have grown used to Ten’s insatiable need to hold and be held. There’s a silent understanding between the 7 roommates. All the boys know that comforting Ten is just more of a physical thing. Each member understands, and some have even become fond of the actions. Most surprisingly Winwin. Though he seems like a total skinship anti, he’s all smiles whenever Ten envelopes him in a hug. 

For the endless love and acceptance of his bandmates, Ten feels so incredibly blessed. But even in such a wonderful situation, there are things Ten can’t have. And lines he dare not cross.

To Ten, there’s nothing inherently romantic or sexual about his lingering touches. To him, spooning with his friends is his way of showing platonic affection. Obviously some things are reserved for romantic/sexual partners: making out and things of the like. But the lines between friendship and partnership are far thinner to him than most. He hasn’t told his friends about his affinity for kisses, having only recently come to terms with it himself. All through his life he’s had these fleeting urges to kiss his friends, and he’d always passed them off as intrusive thoughts. But lately, these urges have become more persistent. When his members are especially kind to him, he feels his attention float briefly to their lips, wishing to give them a small peck. It’s always a peck. A forehead kiss, eskimo, cheek, knuckle, nose; always something innocent. A mere grazing of lips to skin. No matter how innocent the intent or the action, Ten can’t help but feel completely and utterly ashamed. 

Friends aren’t supposed to want to kiss each other, he chides to himself. The dancer already feels like enough of a bother asking to cuddle and hold hands, he fears that by taking the extra step, he’ll lose all 6 of them entirely. So he pushes these feelings deep down, and continues on, hoping the others don’t notice his worry. 

Unfortunately for Ten, Kun prides himself on being in tune with his members’ emotions. Kun first realizes something is wrong during one of the group’s rare off days. He and Ten had opted to stay home, the younger practically BEGGING him to continue watching Doctor Who with him. The two eldest boys have been watching it together for a couple months, and have already plowed through 2 seasons (that’s quite impressive considering how packed their schedules are). Since it’s nearly impossible to refuse Ten anything, Kun finds himself lazing the day away on the couch, carding his fingers through the soft brown locks strewn across his lap.

“Fuck. Everything,” Ten says after they finish the season 2 finale. “Whoever made this episode is a monster.”

Kun giggles, leaning down to wipe stray tears from Ten’s cheeks. “You knew it had to end eventually Tennie.” 

“YEAH BUT THAT WAS SO M E A N!” Ten removes his head from Kun’s lap as the older laughs harder. “It’s not funny!” The Thai man pouts, only eliciting more laughter. 

“Aw you poor thing,” Kun teases, pushing himself off the couch and holding a expectant hand out to the pouting brunette. “C’mon you big baby. Let me make you something to cheer you up.”

Never one to turn down free food, Ten trudges to the kitchen and sits down at the table while his ge gets to work. Ten watches Kun work for 15 minutes before turning to the table and placing a bowl of noodles in front of Ten. The younger looks up at the singer then, an almost indecipherable look on his face. In those few seconds of silence, Kun sees hesitation in Ten’s eyes, an uncharacteristic moment of pause. It’s like Ten wants to do something but he’s restraining himself. Then all too quickly, the look is gone. Ten thanks Kun for the meal before scarfing it down. 

Kun doesn’t bring it up then, or when he sees the same look directed at Hendery the next night while they’re playing Monopoly. He waits a week before finally confronting the boy, having seen the same hesitant gaze 5 or more times by now.

He decided to confront him after their biweekly Just Dance tournament. Kun and Ten were on a team together and kicking everyone else’s asses. After winning their 4th consecutive battle they’d hugged victoriously. When they pulled back, Ten had “the look” written all over his face. And without warning, he pecked Kun on the nose.

Oh.

Ten stood straight in horror, he didn’t even give Kun a chance to say anything before bolting out of the room. The 5 other members followed him with eyes full of worry and concern. They’re only semi-placated with Kun’s promise of “I’ll talk to him.”

Kun opened the door to Ten and Hendery’s shared room to see Ten facing the wall dejectedly, curled tightly into his blankets. The older made sure he moved softly and quietly, not wanting to spook the boy. He sat himself on the bed across from Ten’s huddled figure, not missing the other boy’s flinch. Kun lays down behind the boy, wrapping his arms around his middle.

“I’m not mad Yongqin, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Kun uses Ten’s Mandarin name, knowing the younger loves the way it rolls off his tongue. “I just want to understand, ok?” The older rubs soothing circles on Ten’s arm with his finger.

“I’m sorry,” Ten whispers, almost imperceptibly quiet. 

“Qinqin I told you there’s nothing to be s--”

“No but I am sorry,” Ten says, turning himself in Kun’s hold to face the older, but still not making eye contact. “I-I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I could tell it was bothering you.” Kun says, raising the eyebrow of the dancer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kun confirms. “So do you have a crush on me?”

“Not at all,” Ten says honestly. He fiddles with his fingers between their parallel chests rather than meet Kun’s gaze. “I just… hhh I don’t know how to begin to explain it.”

“Take your time.” Kun assures which Ten is exceedingly grateful for. Kun has always been patient and level-headed that way.

“It’s kinda like… you know how you hug your friends? To show them you care about them?” Kun nods easily. “Well, for me… kissing is kinda equivalent to a hug with a friend. It’s just...my way of showing affection I guess,” Kun nods again, taking in every word Ten says. “It became apparent a few months ago. But I didn’t want to bother you guys with it, so I kept quiet. And I know it’s weird and it’s really no big deal if you don’t want to I can--”

“Ten.”

“Yeah, It’s too much isn’t it? Can we just pretend this never happened? I’m really sor--”

“Ten.”

“Look Kun don’t worry about it. It’s really fine. I just want to--”

“Yongqin.”

Ten finally ceases his baseless ranting. Kun rubs up and down the boy’s upper arms.

“Ten it’s fine. I never said I disliked it. If platonic kisses are something you want… something you need,” Kun smiles lightly. “Then I don’t see a problem with that.”

This time Ten actually does look Kun in the eye, cat-like eyes wide with disbelief. “What?”

“Just explain to me what you need Yongqin,” Kun whispers understandingly, and for some reason it makes Ten blush a little. “I’m all ears.”

Ten was left completely dumbfounded. He had just proposed something… crazy.... and yet Kun isn’t running. He doesn’t seem weirded out, or scared, or disgusted. He’s still there. 

“U-um…” Ten starts. “Just… small ones, I guess. Like cheek, nose, knuckles, forehead, hair, that kind of stuff,” Kun processes all this again. “A-and pecks on the lips are nice sometimes… i-if that’s not too much.”

Kun shakes his head and smiles, “Sounds good to me!” And to punctuate it, he places a small kiss on Ten’s forehead, setting the boy’s cheeks aflame once more. 

“T-Thanks,” He says genuinely.

“Of course Tenten,” The older contemplates giving him another kiss for assurance, but he decides that he shouldn’t overwhelm Ten too much just yet. “Anything for you.”

KUNTEN PIC OF THE DAY:

I call this one: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[imgucciking]

Protect me

Inspired by this

Pairing: Idol! Jisung X Badass! Reader 

Genre: Angst, fluff if you squint 

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Cursing! Might trigger some people!

A/N: My first NCT work, my second tumblr work. The YouTube video, it isn't too much inspiration. Just that he said he has no friends at school. And my fanfic brain got triggered. But seriously though, it was so sad that he said he has no friends, but he said it while he was smiling TT 

When Jisung first heard that he was to go to school now, he was very stoked. He wanted to make some new friends, party sometimes and have the time of his life. Unfortunately, school wasn't what he expected it to be. It was like there was a hierachy built, keeping the popular students up the top and allowed to do whatever they wanted.

The middle ones kept to themselves, and had a small group of loyal friends with each other. They were tightly knit and it would be impossible join them. But then there were the ones who suffered the most. The lower ones. Most of them wre nerds, some of them were just people who unfortunately transferred to this school.

Some of them were the ones that the top popular students were jealous of. Jisung didn't know which sub category he was a part of but he definetly knew that he was a part of the bottom. It wasn't a good life, getting slammed against lockers, getting locked in the bathroom, or maybe just shoving him. 

But he didn't want to tell anyone about this. The teachers knew that the students bullied people, and yet they turned blind eye to it. Of course, he could just tell anyone of his NCT hyungs, but he wanted to be seen as a man, not as a small child. So, he kept quiet. 

Until it got too much.

3 of them had teamed up and locked him in the top floor of the school, where the janitor only visited a month, so no way for her to save him. He started banging on the door, hoping someone would hear it and come save him. His wishes, thankfully were fullfilled. 

You visited the rooftop daily, and this time wasn't going to be an exception. When you heard all the banging, you immediately went there to try and save whoever was stuck inside. You saw the 3 sticks placed right under the door to prevent anyone from coming out. You removed the sticks and opened the door.

Inside stood Jisung, his eyes shiny with tears. Boys don't cry, boys don't cry, boys don't cry he chanted in his head. He looked up to see whoever his saviour was, wanting to thank them. He saw you. Of course he recogonized you. You were the only one to break the hyrachy of top, middle and the bottom.

You didn't fit in anyone of them. The bullies had tried to bully you, you bullied them back. You poured orange juice on the head of the daughter of the principal of the school. Nobody dared to mess with you after then and everybody left you alone. At first, even Jisung was scared of you.

I mean, who wouldn't? You dressed in black, you had all black things, you sat at the backseat of your class, you had loads of doodles that looked like tattoos all over your body, and some even said you smoked! But he didn't know that none of that stuff was true.

He did know now though. From that day onwards, you had become friends. You weren't cold as they all called you to be, infact you were a really soft and shy person. But your demeniour changes when somebody bullies him. You stand up for him, and send them away. Jisung was really thankful he found a friend he could spend the rest of his school days with.

Until that one fateful day. You were absent today and Jisung was worried on how you were doing and what was wrong. It didn't cross his mind once that the bullies might try to have a go at him because you weren't there. In the end of the last period they came. Jisung had packed all the things he needed in his bag and was ready to go.

But they were there to stop his path. One of the biggers ones grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him into one of the cleaning rooms. "Huhh.. Your girlfriend not here to protect you?" He looked up in confusion. "G-Girlfriend? I don't have a girlfriend?!" The one that stood in the front sneered.

"Then what do you call that bitch? what was her name again, jake?" He turns to one of the boys he has standing behind him. "Y/N. Y/N L/N" The leader/ one in the middle smirked. "Ah yes. L/N. She poured her juice over my girlfriend. Time to get revenge, don't you think, boys?"

Jisung looked on in fear as Jake brought forward a a big bottle of banana milk. The leader removed the lid, and poured the entire thing over Jisung. Wet. Smelly. Disgusting. Ugly. He couldn't do anything. His hand was held by one of the men behind him. All he could do was stand on as they poured the milk on him. 

Once they were done, all of them smirked at their work. "Disgusting weakling, needs a girl to protect him. Lets go boys" And all of them left him alone in the janitors closet as he stood, silent tears streaming down his face. He quickly wiped his face and got out a change of cloths from his bag.

He changed his clothes in the bathroom and walked out to the car waiting outside for him. All the while, their words repeated themselves like a broken record in his head. 

"Disgusting Weakling, needs a girl to protect him"

"Disgusting Weakling, needs a girl to protect him"

"Disgusting Weakling, needs a girl to protect him"

"Disgusting Weakling, needs a girl to protect him"

"Disgusting Weakling, needs a girl to protect him"

"Disgusting Weakling, needs a girl to protect him"

"Disgusting Weakling, needs a girl to protect him"

"Disgusting Weakling, needs a girl to protect him"

"Disgusting Weakling, needs a girl to protect him"

"Disgusting Weakling, needs a girl to protect him"

The next day you came to school, all healthy and recovered from the small cold you had gotten a few days ago. You skipped up to Jisung. However he had a aloof expression on his face. You frowned. He was normally never like this. He always greeted you with a smile. What was wrong?

"Hey Jisung!" You said, standing in front of him. He avoided your gaze and swerved around you, continueing to walk to his class. You speed up to him. "What's wrong? Tell me! Is there something wrong? You know you can-"

"JUST SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY!"

The whole halway turned around to watch in shock. Jisung was never the type of person to shout at anyone. "O-Ok..." You walk away from him, your steps slow as a part of your hearts yearns for him to stop you and apologize. When you don't feel him coming, you break off in a sprint, running the opposite direction from your class. 

Behind you, Jisung watched you with sad eyes. Then, he turned to all the people staring at him. "DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU AS WELL?! MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUISNESS!"

They all turned around. 

He found you on the rooftop that evening, your knees pulled up to your chest as you hugged yourself. As soon as you spotted him out of the corner of your eye, you pull yourself even closer to yourself. Jisung winces at the effect he had on you. He comes and sits beside you, a resonable distance away. 

"I'm sorry for yelling in the morning...." You turn your back to him, childishly. He smiles at your attitude. He inches closer, and closer and closer, before gently placing his hands on your shoulders. When you don't flinch away, he turns you around. 

"I'm sorry. Yesterday I was bullied.. They called me weak because I always had you beside me to protect me.."

Your eyebrows crease when you hear this. "Are you ok? Are you hurt anywhere?" He laughs. "No, I'm okay!"

Your head lay on his lap. The pair of you had talked about totally random stuff the past hour and now the sun was about to set. Jisung watched you on his lap, the sunlight casting a beautiful glow on your face. His eyes landed on your lips, the soft layers of muscle. Unconsciouslly, he found himself leaning in and pressing his lips onto yours. 

You were shocked for a minute, before you responded to the kiss. It was sweet, innocent and childlike even. Once you broke apart, both of your lips were red as so were your cheeks. "I-I've liked you for a long time... Would you want to be my girlfriend?" 

"Of course"

[ahgasescenarios]

Shameless Gawking Pt. 2- Johnny stylist!au

Word count: 1k

Genre: smut

Plot summary: When you’re hired to style NCT127’s new comeback, you find yourself a little too attracted to infamous Johnny. What will he do when he catches on to how much you’ve been staring at him all day?

  Previously…

A hand dragged you into one of the stalls and you voiced your surprise.

“Jesus Christ, Mark was that necess-“

You interrupted yourself when you saw, not Mark, but Johnny standing before you. Your brows contorted into the signature look of bewilderment.

“Johnny?”

“You see, (Y/N) you’ve been sending me here all alone all day, I thought it was about time you’d join me.”

“What are you-“

“Oh come on, don’t you think I’ve noticed you eye-fucking me all day? You’re not exactly subtle, sweetheart.”

You looked down nervously, you had been caught red-handed. He lifted your chin, that cocky smirk making a comeback on his lips.

“I didn’t say I minded, did I?”

You were frozen on the spot.

“Answer when I’m talking to you, kitten.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Now, now what am I going to do with you? Shamelessly gawking at me like that when all my members can see…”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. He was enjoying every second of this.

“That deserves some punishment, wouldn’t you agree?” He pulled you towards him, squeezing your ass. Your breath was caught somewhere in your throat and your mind was clouded by a fog of emotions; you had not expected this. But you couldn’t say you didn’t like it, this is exactly where your mind had been hinting to all day.

  _________________________________________________________

You were at a loss for words. Was this really happening or were the two Redbulls you had downed earlier to stay awake finally kicking in? Regardless, you had no idea what was happening, but you weren’t hating the idea of playing along.

“Yes, Johnny.”

“Good girl.” He smirked. “Is this what you wanted hmmm? For me to fuck you right here so all my members can hear how good I make you feel? Was that what you had in mind, (Y/N)?”

Hearing such lewd language coming from the man of your dreams elicited some desires buried deep inside which had remained dormant for much too long. You could already feel how badly you wanted him, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Remembering his previous warning, you spoke up.

“Are you that confident?” You challenged.

“Oh, (Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N), what am I going to do with you, kitten?” His eyes bore into yours as he scolded you, eyes glistening with lust.

He finally brought his lips to yours in a burning, breathless kiss. Your head was spinning by the time he broke away, merely moving his target to your neck. His lips found your sweet spot, sucking and nipping at the skin. You caged your lip in between your teeth, desperately trying to avoid any sounds from spewing out. Johnny noticed this and ran his thumb along your lip so your teeth would let go. A moan slipped out, adding fuel to Johnny’s ever-growing ego.

Johnny shifted his attention to your lips, initiating a full-blown make-out session. You weren’t one to complain, the man was a hell of a good kisser. You tugged at the sleeve of the vinyl jacket you had assigned to him and he got the hint, tossing it to the side of the “room”. You were glad that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, it had been quite a useful wardrobe choice if you may so yourself. Your teeth trapped your lip once more as you drank in the sight before you. You couldn’t get enough of him and Johnny sensed this, his trademark smirk returning to its home.

“Now, now, kitten, are you just gonna stand there gawking or are we going to have some real fun?” He threw your way. You licked your lips in anticipation and took off your clothes.

“Someone’s eager.” He was a cocky bastard. But you couldn’t care less at the moment, after all- girls had needs too.

“Oh, shut up.”

And you fulfilled your own request, pulling Johnny’s face to yours and connecting your lips once more. The tension in the air was more than palpable and you had been patient enough. You wanted him and you wanted him now. His lips traveled to your exposed breasts, teasing your nipples until you were squirming under his touch.

“Johnny, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me already.” You breathed out, blatantly impatient by now. He had his fun, now you wanted the real deal.

“Alright love, whatever you say.”

His eyes never left yours as he took off his pants slowly, way too slowly for your liking and finally, his boxers. His erection sprung free from its constraints and you were almost salivating at the sight. Damn his ego, you needed him bad.

“Are you ready for me though?”

His fingers traveled to your heat and the wetness on his fingers sufficiently answered his query.

“You’re sure about this right?” His gaze suddenly turned soft and you nodded (a little too) enthusiastically.

“Just remember you asked for it.” With his cocky demeanor back, he practically slammed into you earning a whimper from you. He was stretching your walls so deliciously; you already knew he hadn’t been lying early. He gave you a few seconds to adjust before he started thrusting in and out of you at a ruthless pace. You were overwhelmed in the best way possible.

  “Are they-” Mark’s eyes widened when he heard your loud moaning from the other room. The rest of the group looked at each other with disgust translating from their eyes.

“Oh god, I wish I could unhear that,” Taeyong whined.

“Quick, let’s get out of here before it gets worse,” Taeil suggested. Everyone agreed.

“So much for no more trauma…” Yuta sighed, following in suit.

  Johnny’s speed had your head spinning until he stopped altogether. You pouted.

“Turn around baby, I wanna take you from behind.”

You raised your eyebrows but obeyed and laid your hands on the wall for support. You cursed his initiative once he was inside you, this stretch felt so much better than before. One of his hands laid on the small of your back, holding you down while the other reached between your bodies for your clitoris. You yelped once his finger landed on the spot and he took this as a sign that he was doing it right.

“Fuck Johnny-“ He got the message loud and clear, and soon thereafter you came all over him, your walls clenching around his already pulsating shaft. He hissed at the new tightness, his movements becoming sloppy as he reached his high himself. It took you both a moment to recover, bodies pearled with beads of sweat. You didn’t know if it would be okay to hug him so you settled for staying in your corner, turning to look at him.

“Come here.” He beckoned you forward and graced you with a kiss. “That was amazing.” His arms wrapped around your smaller frame afterward, holding you close.

“I’m curious though, why did you decide to leave me shirtless for the music video?”

A blush crept up on your already reddened face as you mustered up an answer.

“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you shirtless?”

He chuckled a warm, peaceful sound.

“Well you did much more than just see, am I right?” His playful nature shone through his words, etching a cheeky grin from you.

“About that, um, I don’t know if you think this was a mistake and it’s totally cool if you don’t want to-“

“(Y/N). I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t want to get to know you okay? I guess my instincts just got the better of me.” He laughed. “How about I take you on a date? With clothes on this time.”

“I’d like that.”

 A/N: the much-awaited smut part of this scenario is finally revealed, surprise!! Jk but I do hope y’all enjoyed this, I love me some Johnny smut. And thank you so much for the love and support on the first part, it really made my day 😊 I’ll be trying to write one scenario per week from now on so don’t be shy to leave any requests in my inbox. thank u!!

 masterlist

[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.

[hypados]

♡ imortal

◜dia 06 03 20, capa teste para uso pessoal — caso se inspire, por favor me credite.

[sweetiesicheng]

kun - late night

word count : 1,034

not only is it a new year, but it’s our lovely wayv leader’s birthday. happy kun day ! (go stream phantom)

-

"okay, all done," you said to yourself and walked out of the cafe. you locked the door with your key and put the keys in your bag.

oh, i should pick up some dinner. yea, i'm not going to kun's tonight.

you started walking to a convenience store that was at the other end of the street. as you walked, your phone rang.

you took your phone out of your bag and pressed it against your ear, "hello?" you answered.

"y/n?" you recognized kun's voice.

"oh, hi. what's up?" you asked.

"are you home yet?" he asked.

"i just left. i'm going to pick up some dinner right now actually," you answered.

"it's late, babe. you shouldn't walk all of the way home by yourself. how about you spend the night here?" he suggested.

"all of a sudden? i'd feel bad," you said to him.

"you can wear my clothes. i just don't want you walking all the way to your place this late."

you smiled, "okay," you said. "i'll be there soon."

"don't buy dinner. i'm about to cook dinner for everyone," kun said to you. "okay?"

you hummed in response. "i won't. see you soon."

"bye bye."

you hung up and immediately started walking to kun's dorm. luckily for you, it was near by and it only took a few minutes to walk to.

you reached the dorm and let yourself in with your key. as you closed the door behind you, a familiar puppy ran up to you.

"oh, hello bella," you crouched down and pet the pup. "how are you today? did you have a good day?" you asked and smiled at her, giving her some love.

"bella! i thought you loved daddy more!" lucas whined as he appeared in the doorway. bella ran back to lucas. "hey y/n."

"hi." you took your shoes off and slipped on some slippers and walked into the dorm. you saw winwin and hendery in the living room playing a video game. you went into the kitchen, where kun was cooking and ten was bothering him.

"get away from me," kun arrogantly spoke in mandarin.

"give me your love!" ten exclaimed, earning a grunt from the leader.

"be nice to your kids, babe," you laughed and both of them looked at you.

"get this weirdo off of me," kun said and ten immediately got away from him. "now you leave me alone?" he questioned.

"well, since y/n is here, i need to make sure my own kids are okay," ten said. "hey y/n," he said as he walked past you.

"hi," you said to ten. then, you went up to kun and hugged him from behind, "hi handsome."

"hi beautiful," he turned around and kissed you. "go change. i grabbed you clothes to change into, they're on the bed."

"okay," you gave him another kiss before leaving. you saw ten, xiaojun, lucas, and yangyang playing with their pets in hendery and ten's room as you walked to kun's room. you walked in and locked the door.

you put your bag on the desk and changed into the t-shirt and shorts that kun let you wear. you tied your hair up and unlocked the door before sitting on the bed. you checked your phone to make sure no one needed you and left your phone on kun's bed before walking out of the room.

"bella! come back here!" xiaojun shouted and the pup came up to you again.

"bella, i thought you loved us more!" yangyang spoke in disappointment.

"cause she's sick of you guys. i'm surprised they haven't tried to run away from here," you said while walking into the room with bella in your arms. you sat down on the floor next to ten and bella stayed in your lap.

"leon, sit," ten said to the cat, who was trying to eat a treat.

"leon and louis are cats, not dogs," you comments as you watched while petting bella.

"guys! come out and eat!" you heard kun shout. bella jumped out of your lap as you stood up. you left the room with the guys following you and went into the kitchen. "y/n, can you grab that bowl?" kun pointed to the counter, where a bowl of steaming food was sitting.

"yea, where should i put it?" you asked him.

"anywhere, it doesn’t matter,” he replied.

"okie," you grabbed a bowl from the counter and put it onto the table.

all of the guys scrambled around in the kitchen, and you sat down next to winwin.

"stop moving, let me put this on the table," kun said to xiaojun. he put a plate of food onto the table. "okay, let's eat."

"thanks for cooking, kun ge," hendery said to the leader.

"yea, thanks," yangyang spoke up. "y/n, can you pass me that?" he pointed to a plate.

"yea," you stood up and passed a plate to ten, who passed it to yangyang. you sat down and started eating. "this is yummy," you mentioned and grabbed some more food before it was taken away by everyone else.

"thank god kun can cook. we'd be screwed if he couldn't," lucas said while chewing.

-

dinner quickly ended and you tried to help clean up, but kun told you to go relax in his room. you went to his shared room and got ready for bed.

"you guys are annoying," you heard kun speak as he walked into the room. he locked the door behind him, "i live with a bunch of weirdos."

"that isn't the first time you've said that," you laughed and put your phone down on his nightstand.

kun laid down and hugged you, "don't leave work late again."

"i know, i know," you said to him and hugged him back. "thank you for letting me stay here," you said and kissed his cheek. "i love you."

"i love you too," kun said and kissed your forehead.

"hey! let us in!"

"kun ge!"

"you need to stop locking them out," you said to kun as yangyang and xiaojun knocked on the door.

"they'll get over it," kun said while draping the blanket over the two of you.

[yoursinfulurges]

Wayv is nct.

[softsan]

nct mafia au (aesthetic)

these are ideas for a fanfic series. *no guarantee i’ll write all of them. who are you most looking forward too? [masterlist]

Taeyong

highly respected and feared.

known to be cold and ruthless.

mafia kingpin of the north.

has a dark tragic past that has come back to haunt him.

position: boss /leader

read me - (pt.1)

Taeil

usually calm and collected.

acts as a voice of reason for his crew.

don’t threaten what he holds dear, he’ll still destroy you.

recently been keeping tabs on a cute but determined detective.

position: adviser/consigliere

read me - (pt.1)

Johnny

easy-going and friendly demeanor.

people tend to underestimate his abilities.

can’t help to be drawn to a young bubbly artist.

a bad habit of pushing away the people he cares about.

position: sniper/long-range shooter.

read me - (pt.1)

Yuta

rough childhood that he barely managed to escape from.

holds a grudge on the people that have inflicted him harm.

curious about a mysterious woman and her secret past.

wants to be loved.

position: cleaner/assassin

read me - (pt.1)

Kun

rarely gets his hand's dirty.

likes to intimidate with money and blackmail.

deals with all the crew’s business ventures.

fond of his clueless and naive assistant.

position: underboss/business face

read me - (pt.1)

Doyoung

has a soft spot for people, often gives second chances.

stuck in an arranged marriage to his high profiled wife.

detests the idea of being tied down to a stranger.

realizes too late, that not all good things last forever.

position: lieutenant/gun specialist

read me - (pt.1)

Ten

ran away from his wealthy, loveless upbringing.

considered dead by the rest of the world.

surprised to see an old face, laughing and smiling at a carnival.

refuses to admit his old identity even if it hurts him to do so.  

position: lieutenant/body combat specialist

read me - (pt.1)

Jaehyun

calm and laid back.

doesn’t like being caught off guard.

chameleon at changing identities.

ruffled by a woman who unintentionally ruined his latest mission.

position: lieutenant/retrieval specialist

read me - (pt.1)

Winwin

doesn’t often interact with people outside his crew.

particular about stranger skinship.

injured his hands in an explosion gone wrong.

take off guard by a kind and caring nurse with his best interest.

position: chemist/drug specialist

read me (pt.1)

Jungwoo

precious and the perfect gentlemen.

known for his reliability and loyalty.

talented at acting and getting people to do things for him.

protective of a fearful woman who sought his help.

position: grifter/charming distraction

read me - (pt.1)

Lucas

easily bored when he’s not working on a mission.

confident in his abilities.

great strength and a fearsome fighter.

intrigued by a fierce woman that managed to overpower him

position: all-round fighter/training lieutenant

read me - (pt.1)

Mark

talented and a fast learner.

the youngest to be promoted to lieutenant.

bodyguard for an outcasted daughter from a high profiled family.

conflicted by his growing affection for her.

position: lieutenant/security specialist

read me - (pt.1)

Renjun

known for his agility and dance-like movements.

doesn’t usually fight unless he has too.

is frightening when his happy demeanor disappears.

drawn to the cute kindergarten assistant he met at a coffee shop.

position: high ranking soldier/escape specialist

read me: (pt.1)

Jeno

sometimes takes missions too far.

likes to surprise his enemies.

impressed by the ice cream employee that pulled out a taser.

terrified for her safety.

position: high ranking soldier/enforcer

read me - (pt.1)

Haechan

literal sunshine.

doesn’t often go out in the field.

protective his crew.

after a mission has gone wrong, he holds a calm kitchen-hand hostage.

position: weapon designer/technology expert

read me - (pt.1)

Jaemin

works directly under jaehyun.

extremely committed to missions.

after nearly drowning a women helps to pull him from the depths.

feels indebted and does everything to improve her world.

position: high ranking soldier/retrieval specialist

read me - (pt.1)

Xiaojun

working on arming his crew with weapons 

thankful for their new leader

plays a dangerous game with a hired assassin 

fatal love comes with deadly consequences 

position: southside lieutenant/gun specialist 

read me - (pt.1)

Hendery

in charge of clearing their new territory 

passionate at getting rid of enemies in his city 

kidnaps a secretive drug dealer who is extremely clever

a little black book uncovers the dark truth and grim reality

position: southside lieutenant/security specialist 

read me - (pt.1)

YangYang

unexpectedly clever but sometimes quite random

is ruffled by the clumsy science major 

a true test of loyalty comes 

the most innocent of souls can bring about blood and betrayal

position: southside lieutenant/strategist

read me - (pt.1)