#nct wish fanfics

[hakkkuu]

What kinks do you think nct wish legal line would have? And who would be more of a dom/sub/switch/neither?

Sion - size kink, discipline (punishment), role play

•he's definitely a dom🙇🏻‍♀️ i LOVE how he's such a sweet talker but it's just his way how to get you in bed with him..you would be all shy around him while he's secretly fucking you with his flirty eyes..his hands always on your waist and pulling you closer so you can feel his hard cock 😞 hes giving me jealous type vibes so he will be ready to punish you in bed and he will NOT apologize later🥱 fucking you until you cry and begging him to slow down, taking you from the back as hes holding your face down and ass up and thrusting in your mouth until he will shoot his load down your throat ruining your makeup..sweet boyfriend

Yushi - breeding, blindfolding, erotic asphyxiation (I need him to choke me)

•born to be sub😸 he would give dominant vibes in front of other people as he's always having some mean comments and jokes on you but once you get in bed he's obsessed with you being the "mean" one..blindfolded yushi having you sitting on his lap and ride him like a horse with your hands on his neck ughhh😩 he's 100% whiny and he likes when you jerk him off painfully until he cums so much and then you suck on his sensitive tip so he can cry out your name..when he's on top of you, you kind of "force" him to cum inside you and continue thrusting in you😁 he acts like he's not into it but he loves the sticky feeling on his dick when he's covered in a cum

Riku - handcuffs, spanking, DOMINANCE

•he's mostly dom BUT when he's really needy ESPECIALLY in the morning he loves being sub..so basically kind of switch? honestly he's really simple (and hot😕)..put your hands behind your back, handcuffed, ass up, face down and the only thing you can do is take it and scream..in return you will get the best sex of your life🤷🏻‍♀️ he knows how to fuck and how to use his dick, and he knows how to hit your sweet spot..your face buried in the pillow screaming because the pleasure is too much to handle, your legs shaking but hes not stopping anytime soon..spanking you and massaging your clit ughh🥴 when he wakes up with morning hood the only thing he want you to do is give him a mind blowing blow job and play with his balls..holding your face down so he can thrust in your face and paint your face with his load

[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

[00127am]

YOU HAVE A NEW LIKE! select NCT members as hinge messages i've received 𓍯𓂃 all for shits & giggles! warnings cursing, yang's (14) mentions a kys joke, taeyong's second message (17) mentions blood

🧾 © 00127am 2O24

[markiemelon]

can i pls request some texts of wishies confessing their feelings to reader 🫶🫶💞

I loveeee this request! I hope you like how it turned outttt

🫧 nct wish confessing their feelings 🫧

nct wish fake texts!

༚ genre: fluff, crack

༚ pairings: nct wish x gn!reader

my lovely tag list: @wonbins-black-cat @taroddori @nctstarr @i03jae

(lmk if you wanna be added so you know when I post!)

[viasdreams]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

sion crushing on you after your debut !!

a/n: hello nct wish nation!! 🌟

fake text m.list ☁︎⋅

[cigsaftersuh]

— my forever only.

the beauty of married life; y/n and her husband, jaehyun, have been best friends since forever - upon their high school graduation, jaehyun fulfilled the promise he made all those years ago and proposed to his dandelion, his childhood best friend. now, newlyweds jaehyun and y/n discover the joys and surprises of married life with each other.

non-idol! husband! jaehyun x f! reader ( ｡ ◠‿◠ ｡ )

status: ongoing - updates everyday

genre: slice of life !!

-> the newlyweds

1. forever & more .ᐟ

2. un marriage .ᐟ

3. 10 piece combo .ᐟ

4. happy wife .ᐟ

5. da life .ᐟ

6. bullying .ᐟ

7. mrs l/n jeong .ᐟ - written

8. chef of the night .ᐟ - written

9. peeled shrimps .ᐟ

10. my home .ᐟ - written

11. perfect wife .ᐟ

12. dilligaf .ᐟ

13. ten hate page .ᐟ

14. married n one .ᐟ

15. backshots .ᐟ

16. fomo or homo .ᐟ

with love,

© cigsaftersuh

[yutasbellybuttonpiercing]

— POSTPONED — info

*sighs*, kinktober. what a fun excuse to actually finish all the fics i started and never finished... and start new ones... and just get motivated again. yippie! we could also call it recyletober. okay, sorry, that was so bad. anyway.

this time it's not gonna be as kink-oriented as last time... but that's okay! i just have some ideas that were brewing in my notes app and were not being attended to... also, as stated before, i am chronically addicted to character.ai. please don't download it or you will end up with 45h screentime a week JUST ON THAT APP. but it works great for inspo.... to not follow up on... until now!

also, this year we have multiple groups (3)! because hoshi (🤤) and riize have been all up in my business again. and yes, i started planning this at 5am.

also, yippie, i'm alive???

sorry, i love yapping. let's get to it:

october 1st: park wonbin (riize): read here!

october 7th: kwon soonyoung / hoshi (seventeen): read here!

october 10th: mark lee (nct 127/nct dream): pending...

october 13th: lee donghyuck / haechan (nct 127/nct dream): dick pic. thought it could be funny *shrugs*

october 16th: kim dongyoung / doyoung (nct 127) & huang renjun (nct dream): the most awkward threesome ever (?)

october 19th: wong yukhei / lucas (solo): "my ex broke up with me and i dare myself to fuck lucas" as aforementioned, it is my favorite concept. god, i love lucas so much i could die rn.

october 22nd: lee sohee & lee chanyoung / anton (riize): and they were roommates! canceled due to recent events

october 25th: huang renjun (nct dream): f-feet.. 😔 i'm so sorry...

october 28th: nakamoto yuta (nct 127): as a gender studies professor, he should really know better than to sleep with his student... but he will because this is my fic.

october 31st: lee jeno (nct dream): alpha! jeno... thank you, jeno, for ripping off your shirt on may 4th... and thank you anon for the ask... i started writing it right away and got distracted by depression. 💓

more infos tba! also, lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

taglist: @rjreins @meowniee @deezbin @ant-onie @ablackbtsstan @gacktsa

[hisbodycorpse]

☥ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ 迷失的灵魂

𝐂͟𝐥͟𝐚͟𝐮͟𝐬͟𝐭͟𝐫͟𝐨─┈┈ ⠀ ✣

[winwintea]

winwintea's super SEXY and COOL rec-list

author’s note ↬ i really need to start saving and liking half of the fics i read bc i end up not being able to find them again... a lot of these are smut (bc i am a whore sometimes) so mdni with those tagged with s!

last updated ↬ september 11th, 2024

𝐊𝐄𝐘 ↬

f — 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

a — 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

h — 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞/𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 

s— 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍/𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾

𝖭𝖢𝖳 𝖣𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖬

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐋𝐄𝐄 ↬

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 by @sehunniepotwrites ↳ disneyland au | f | 11.9k words 

There are so many ways your friend group could have chosen to celebrate your graduation from university but they chose the one way that fit their childlike antics most of all–going to Disneyland. With all the screams of joy and laughter filing the atmosphere, you see why people call it The Happiest Place on Earth. It’s where magic comes alive, hearts soar to the skies, and where dreams come true. With your dream job already lined up for you once you get back from this vacation, you wonder if your last and wildest fantasy–the one that carries Mark Lee endearingly close to your heart–will take flight. (But don’t worry; your best friends, with a little help of pixie dust, are determined to make it come alive by the end of night.)

perfection like literally. i love disney. so so so much.

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 by @yojeongin ↳ husband au | s | 19.5k words 

all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.

toxic as hell... i didn't know what to think of myself after this. but it's extremely well written.

𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨 by @hazyhae ↳ plug + stoner au | a, f, s | 14.4k words 

a high slip up cost you mark lee years ago, and you’ve spent years burying your memories of him ever since. the universe has other plans for you when your old friend starts a new career, smoking his way back into your life.

love love their work, even has a whole post dedicated to explaining weed basics 101 which i appreciate. A LOT

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 by @spiderm444rk↳ smau | f | ongoing

you, as the promising journalism student of NCUT, were more than willing to join the school magazine when you got offered. to your disappointment, the only section they let you have is the anonymous confessions one - which is mostly really, really boring. i mean, who even posts any cool confessions nowadays ? especially in a damn college magazine ? they only offered you the job no one else wanted. on the other hand, mark, a business student, was never more annoyed with the choice of his major. sure, business is cool and hopefully it’ll earn him money, but it’s not something he could really get into. he always wanted to do music. but after long considering, he chose business instead, to make sure he gets a real job in the future. and he doubts that choice was correct more and more every day. once the school band announces they’re looking for a new guitarist, he’s absolutely ready to apply until he reads the ‘music students only’ part. pissed off, he starts typing a message to the gc, but it ends up going to a different number - and you finally get to help some poor random stranger who confessed with something interesting.

sucker for mark lee and bands 😋😋

𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬 by @https-lvesick ↳ spiderman smau | a, f | ongoing

toronto has never been so chaotic, but things are working out since the spiders appeared to save the citizens. spiderman and silk are the city's biggest saviours and they count on them to keep them safe, even the police. but, aside from their big responsibilities, they’re just teenagers, trying to be themselves and keep their grades good, trying to have a social life and maybe a love life as successful as their superhero life. but… what’s easier to tell? that you have a crush on your best friend or that you’re a mutant superhero?

so so so so hyped for this since it started and excited for it still... a spiderman smau is just so good especially for mark <33

𝐇𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍 ↬

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 by @strrykais ↳ fantasy au + smau | f, a | ongoing

did you know that angels walk the earth before they get accepted into heaven, being tasked to watch over a human and complete their assignment. renjun was excited to finally have the chance to earn his wings, until he finds out his task is getting you to love life. a very depressed girl meets a very desperate boy, can they learn that maybe staying on earth isn't such a bad thing after all.

so hyped for this one actually even though it's the newest one on this list i think.

𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐭𝐰𝐨. 𝐭𝐞𝐧. by @zchl ↳ angsty little drabble | a | 1k words

(doesnt have a summary) renjun in the hospital, you're waiting for news.

literally broke me.

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 by @hwanchaesong ↳ exes to lovers | a, f | 1.1k words

[part of the after hours series] Y'all bring gravity to shame because even with its constant pull of 9.81 m/s^2, it still can't put your drunken pieces back together.

the series is so good check it out. this one is my fav though, it's just honestly a scenario i've never thought about before.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐎 ↬

𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 by @hazyhae ↳ fwb to lovers + plug!jeno | f, a, s | 4.7k words

jeno doesn't think he's ever felt this restless in his life. maybe he's been smoking a bad batch of flower, or maybe it's the fact that you haven't knocked on his door in over a month.

oh god. jeno isn't even one of my ults or wreckers but damn this hits the spot actually?

8 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 by @nanaxwii ↳ friends to lovers | f, a, | 1.3k words

Why do all good stories come to an end? Why don’t we try to make it work? It just takes 8 letters to fix it all, or does it…?

loving this one... it's filled with tooth rotting fluff that's so cute omg... i love them.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐂𝐊 ↬

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫 by @lyvhie ↳ established relationship | f | 2k words

you just want to show your boyfriend how important he is to you.

like the title it's literally so sweet... tooth-rotting fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 by @lqfiles ↳ smau | f | ongoing

after getting evicted out of your old place, you're left with no other choice but to look for a cheaper alternative. which is how you end up becoming neighbors with lee haechan, who has a passion for music and disturbing whatever peace and quiet there is. or in which you found yourself a very nice apartment, the only issue? your neighbor is your friend's somewhat ex-situationship who won't stop playing his guitar at 2 am in the night.

you will absolutely shit yourself reading this (in a good way dare i say?)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐧 by @diorcities ↳ ballet au | s, h | 20.9k words

docile bodies loaded with lethal venom and betrayals are commonplace in the prestigious academy, and you happen to be their new prey when you're given the starring role with the smooth seducer with the devil's carved grin that everyone desperately desires: haechan

probably the filthiest one on this list? read the tags before reading, might be too much. it's just extremely poetic...

𝐍𝐀 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍 ↬

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 by @polarisjisung ↳ fighter au | a, f | 2.7k words

it's routine— you patch up his wounds and watch them heal, he salts your wounds but doesn't stick around long enough to watch them grow.

i hate you for this hua (esp part 2) but i also love to drown in angst

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 by @markiemelon ↳ friends to lovers(?) au | f | idk lol

going over to jaem's house to crash a couple of times leads to something...

this was so sweet omg

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 by @polarisjisung ↳ enemies to lovers smau | f, a | ongoing

going ovevery college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easierer to jaem's house to crash a couple of times leads to something...

unfortunately i cannot put cherry flavored, but this is just as good. check it out!!!

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐄 ↬

𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧 by @lowkeychenle ↳ friends to lovers(?) au | s, f, a | 9k words

Chenle is everything you want--everything you need. Somehow, the thought of him manages to pull you back in even after you were free. Messy kisses, late night trysts, and him tracing the word 'mine' on your thigh--barely anything, so how could you possibly be guilty as sin? (based on Guilty As Sin? by Taylor Swift)

fucked me over so badly.

𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭! by @wonbin-truther ↳ idol smau | f | smau

idol chenle x idol reader try to avoid dating rumors

this was SOO FUNNY

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 by @lyvhie ↳ established relationship | s | 2.5k words

a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.

i fully choked the day i read this. had to take a breather omg 😵😵

𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞 by @mins-fins ↳ royalty au | f, a | 22.7k words

where crown prince zhong chenle, forced into a marriage with a woman he doesn't like and riddled with complicated feelings, finds solace in the palace's very own medic, you.

actually such a sucker for royalty fics... and chenle is so prince coded

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐲 by @aehyei ↳ parallel universe + time traveling au | f, a | 6.4k words

After a long day of stressful practice, Chenle finds himself in deep sleep on his bed and wakes up when a strange child that came from nowhere jumped on him—scaring him in the progress. To add to everything, the young idol learns that he just traveled to the future and is able to meet his future daughter. But will Chenle be able to be that great husband and father when he doesn’t even have a single clue on what’s going on?

one of my ABSOLUTE FAVORITES I HAVE EVER READ. if you're gonna read any of these read this.

𝐒𝐄𝐑Á 𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 by @galacticseonghwa ↳ biker smau | f, a, s | ongoing

your friends were all you needed, they were your brothers from another mother they loved to say. but that all went to shit after ricky dragged you to one of his motorbike sprints. who are you to say no when ricky's opponent claws his way into your inner circle and present himself as your dream man?

really really good and underrated... i love chenle can you tell...

𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 by @chenlesfavorite ↳ motorcyclist smau | f, a | ongoing

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

wdym this is ending soon... no way.... im gonna cry wtf

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 ↬

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 by @aehyei ↳ high school au | f | 7.2k words

You love stories. If anyone would ask, you’d rather live in it then wake up another day in a world where everyone’s having the love story you’ve been daydreaming about. Of course falling in love with your best friend never came across your mind so it was a bit of a mess when you realized Jisung didn’t only view you as a ‘friend’. 

so so so so sos sos cute omfghsdjsah

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐦 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 by @jirsungs ↳ college smau | f | completed

a story about a college student enjoying her life in school perfectly fine, until one of her friends drags the group along to watch their school's band perform. little did she know that day would be marked as the day her whole world turned upside down because of a particular, nonchalant, and difficult drummer boy. a drummer boy who spilled his entire drink on her brand new outfit at a party and never came back.

i actually binged this in a day bc it was so good

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 by @babbymochiiii ↳ discord call au (if you know where this is going...) | s | ??? words

you and jisung have discord date night, where things take a turn.

sorry guys im.. a little shameless sometimes...

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 ↬

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 by @jaysng ↳ friends to lovers | f | idk lol

jay and mute reader both seem to like each other, just when he thinks that his confession was a pure failure the reader does something surprising.

this was just so sweet i literally fell in love with him all over again

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 by @yeonzzzn ↳ zombie apocalypse au | f, h, a, s | 26.2k words

in the middle of the apocalypse, you and jay find each other in a situation of life and death, using the protection of each other to get to the next safe zone. unfortunately for the both of you, things take a turn once secrets get revealed and the fight for survival becomes greater.

probably one of my personal favorites on this list teehee. i love jay park.

𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐔𝐈 ↬

𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨 by @wheeboo ↳ dark + psychiatric facility au | f, a, h | 12.8k words

in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind.

literally had me gripping the edge of my seat as i read this

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐇𝐄𝐄 ↬

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 by @wonbin-truther ↳ influencers smau | f, a | ongoing

sohee was a well known streamer, having grown his fanbase over covid with the game minecraft and slowly branched into other games along with sponsorships and modeling offers. he was also well known for being your number one twitter fanboy, never missing one of your posts even if fashion wasn't his greatest interest. what happens when a modeling gig brings him face to face with you?

this was a really sweet smau omfg... and sohee streamer just makes so much sense...

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍 ↬

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 by @sehunniepot ↳ disneyland cast member au | f, a, h | 12.8k words

in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind.

if y'all have anything disney related send my way cause i'll literally eat it all up. JUST LIKE THIS ONE.

𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐃𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐔 ↬

𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝 by @slytherinshua ↳ established relationship | f | ~500 words

jealous riku over seiji from whisper of the heart

i need more riku content omfg. ALSO THIS IS PERFECT? ITS JUST A DRABBLE BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH?

SEND ME UR FICS SO I CAN READ THEM BTW !!!! i'll try to update this as often as i can... or maybe make more depending on the amount on here, but thank you all so much for the wonderful stories <33

[neocitycafe]

Home After the Holidays (Mark)

♡ genre: hot cocoa - fluff, sweet and steamy hehe; a bit smutty with too many thoughts; i guess "new year’s time pensive cheese" is a theme for me (here’s haechan’s version from last year) ✎ words: 2.1k ✓ summary/notes: busy idol husband Mark finally returns home :’) and you’ve missed each other. a trope that i love lots. @d-nghy-ck to bronwyn, here’s a slice of pensive cheese(cake), especially for you! this cafe would probably not be here if not for this first customer who came by and said hi! wishing you all the love in the world~

──────── °∘❉∘° ────────

It’s that awkward time in late January when you’re not sure whether it’s still socially appropriate to include “Happy New Year” in your greetings. Mark had told you not to come to the airport. The weather was frigid all week and it’d be way past midnight by the time he got out of customs, and then there was the long cab ride home.

But he missed you. 

Closing the front door gently, he looks down to find his old lace-ups where he usually left them, as if he were home this whole time. Your favorite pair is set neatly next to his, and a smaller set of shoes next to those. Ones with velcro and lights that he bought a couple months back, but it felt much longer ago so quickly. You’d replaced the original laces with neon green ones, and all of Mark’s teammates cooed at how cute that was. 

The lights are dimmed and Mark finds you on the couch in a pile of blankets, where you cozied up while waiting. His heart suddenly aches thinking of you with only a little cup of chamomile tea to warm yourself and get to bed. 

He had been so busy working lately, loving what he did, creating music, making crazy new connections, show after show, press conferences, collaborations. Had he done anything for you lately? His mind races.

From where you’d dozed off, you find Mark frozen by the door. After years of knowing him, you could see his raised brows and the running thoughts behind them. His lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes shifting to the side meant self-doubt. You want to erase those worries and pour love into all the spaces where he thought he was not enough. 

“I wanted to get you flowers.” His voice cracks and you get up to close the distance between you.

“Oh Mark... I have you now.” The cold from outside has clung on to his coat, but you ignore it and wrap your arms around him more tightly. “It’s the middle of the night, silly. I don’t need flowers.”

You feel him shake his head against you, “And I wanted to be home for the holidays,” he says with a bit of a whine. 

“You’re here now.”

Looking into his eyes, you brush the hair away from his forehead and peck him on the nose. The end of the year meant holiday tour stops, special shows, concerts, and awards nights. The holidays meant the opposite of holidays for entertainers like Mark. It meant he couldn’t really be with family until afterwards. He follows you into the kitchen where you set your mug in the sink. 

“Did you miss me?” You turn when he wraps his arms around you from behind. 

You’re momentarily caught off guard by his boyish smile and a pang of longing wells up, an emptiness in your chest that had been there behind your smiles when he had video called. The answer is a thousand times yes, but you bite back the truth in favor of not worrying him. You shake your head playfully. “I don’t have to. I get to see your features in our son’s face every day.”

Mark breaks into a grin that you can’t help but match. “Is he asleep?”

“Yeah, but he sure begged to stay up! He can be a little headstrong sometimes. Like someone.” You give Mark a long look and he pouts in response. “But he finally fell asleep a couple of hours ago.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being my home.”

“You’re sappy, Mark Lee.” Nonetheless, you’re more than willing when he tilts your head for a deeper kiss. He runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them to let him taste you. A familiar heat stirs in your belly, and you reach your hands up to tangle them in his hair and pull him closer. He groans into your mouth and presses you back into the kitchen counter. From this position, he places pressure where your bodies are connected, where you want it. He rocks against you once, twice, slowly, fluidly, and you pull him even closer. 

Mark’s hands knock into the stacked pots and pans behind you on the drying rack, and you’re grateful for your husband’s quick reflexes. He steadies a pan, preventing what would’ve been a huge clatter. You both freeze for a moment. 

“Easy, tiger,” you tease while throwing him a wink. “Or baby lion or cheetah or whatever small big cat you are.” 

He responds with a playful growl that is both adorable and sexy, his nose scrunching up. 

A delicious thrill runs through you as his gaze locks on you again. Knocking your legs apart and then lifting you onto the counter, Mark reminds you of how he wanted you everywhere when you were newlyweds. A tender bite between your neck and shoulder reminds you of how he wants you now. You make a mental note to call Jaemin for some babysitting this coming weekend, because you wouldn’t mind some more alone time like this. 

You tug on Mark’s hand and he knows what you mean. You slip off the counter and try not to trip over each other as you eagerly make your way to the bedroom. It’s a familiar but exhilarating path, like a choreography that your bodies move to automatically once the music starts playing.

When he finds a towel already laid out on the bed, he raises a seagull of a brow, and you can’t help but laugh. He teases, “Oooh, so you were prepared!”

You lean in to whisper in his ear, feeling cheeky and bold, “Well, my husband gets messy.”

The look in his eyes and how he kisses you next is the response you were hoping for. When you fall back into bed, it’s easy and slow. You take your time wriggling out of your clothes, and you laugh at his cute shimmy while pulling his jeans off. The both of you sigh in content when his body is above yours, skin to skin. 

Mark’s fingertips trail patterns along your sides, his left hand’s calluses from guitar playing are a little rough, but soothingly so. You map out the constellation connecting the mole on his neck, on his cheek, the tiny one on the corner of his mouth. He spends his time with his lips on your neck where you crave them, wet kisses with a slight bite that have you feeling hot all over and in want, and then you’re grateful they’re chasing paths over the crests and valleys of your body. 

Mark travels down until his face is settled between your thighs, his warm breath causing you to shiver in anticipation. He takes your hand and kisses your wrist, your palm, your fingertips, slowly and thoughtfully. He moves to do the same with your other hand. The love in his gaze staring up at you is too much for you to handle, so you close your eyes and lay your head back. And then he’s lacing your fingers together, holding your hands as his perfect mouth dives in eagerly. 

Mark isn’t shy about playing with your wetness and giving you what you crave. He laps at you with the intent of pushing you to the edge, like there’s nothing else he wants but for you to feel good, and you can’t help but arch up towards him. 

When he tires, he keeps stroking your clit with his fingers, keeping the contact consistent and insistent, and then switches back to working you with his tongue. He keeps going even when you cry out his name, your thighs close around his head, and your hips lift off the mattress as you succumb to the overwhelming pleasure.  

When he comes back up to face you, he’s surprised to find the tears falling down your cheeks and into your hair. You don’t notice it yourself until he starts worrying. 

“You okay? Did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head. “No, that was amazing.”

He rolls to his side and pulls you into his chest carefully. His eyes search your face.

The words are tumbling out before you can stop them: “I missed you. Mark… I missed you.”

You finally let yourself go.

Going to your son’s first winter concert at his school alone. You’d even saved a seat for Mark, but his filming schedule got delayed that evening. Opening holiday presents with Mark’s parents at their home, without him there. Counting down to the new year by yourself while his team celebrated their album of the year win. How you never wanted to burden him. How you understood his career and wanted to be his steady support, and yet... “I missed you so much.”

“You know you can tell me that. I’m not afraid of how you feel.” He pauses to dry your tears with gentle hands and a kiss on your cheek. “I want to know. I want to love you better.” He holds you tighter, as if capturing every bit of the emotion pouring out of you. It’s like Mark knew the exact words you needed to hear. While being laid bare and vulnerable, you feel safe and known, and now, ever grateful that your relationship is one you are both committed to growing and working out together. “Let’s talk more in the morning after some rest, yeah?”

“Thank you, Mark.” You gaze up into his shining eyes. 

“For what?”

“For being home.”

“Look who’s being cheesy now,” he teases back. 

You tug on him beneath the covers in response and Mark lets out a surprised moan. 

“Mmm, in the morning’s okay too… ah, babe. I mean, do you still want to make love now?”

You nod against his chest and laugh at his insistence on calling it lovemaking rather than sex or anything else. “Do you?”

He nods too and the boyish grin you love so much is back. You push at his shoulders and move so you’re seated above him, your thighs settled over his.

I love you, I love you, I love you. He seems to say, and you feel it in your soul. 

When you sink down onto him, you fill his presence with your closeness, as he fills yours with his. And it’s like the time and space between you disappears. All you hear is Mark, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he loses himself in loving you, and you him. He aids with your rhythm with his hands holding your hips, and then makes the switch so you’re under him. 

There’s the softness of the sheets, his lips, your fingertips, the moonlight shining in, the sound of rustling and sighs pulled from deep within. The flush of his cheeks, your parted lips, the thrum of beating hearts, and later, the patterns slowing steadily into dreams together.

──────── °∘❉∘° ────────

You’re gladly surprised by the warmth in your bed when you wake up in the morning. Mark kicked off his side of the covers in the middle of the night as usual, leaving a mountain of blankets on top of you, so you pull them up to cover his bare chest. You probably should have showered after last night, but it was too comfortable being cuddled up. Mark’s discarded shirt is closest, so you pull it on, mind reveling in everything for a moment: his scent, his return, his closeness, your shared love. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the bedroom door swinging open. Little hands, messy morning bed head, and eyes shining as they peer in. (You’d have to remind your son about knocking on the door again.)

He’s quick to spot the lump next to you under the blankets. “Dada!”

You smile and hold a finger to your lips. 

“Mm-hmm, yes dear, come here.” You sit up better and he clambers into your lap. “Shhh. He’s sleeping.”

His eyes are wide and he whispers rather loudly, “He’s snoring.” You cast a wistful gaze over the relaxed expression on Mark’s face, not knowing when the last time it was that he slept well. 

“Let’s let him sleep more.” You ready yourself to sneak out of bed. Your son was really getting too heavy to carry. He’s squirmy and ticklish, and of course he starts giggling almost immediately when you try to lift him, the sound bubbling out uncontrollably. Someone else you knew laughed just like that. You’re trying to get up quickly when you feel Mark’s arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Come back....”

The way he holds you tickles, and the added weight of your son makes you lose balance, so you fall back onto Mark’s chest, effectively making your family a little sandwich. Mark lets out a small grunt from the weight but he doesn’t really mind. His heart is as light as can be. His eyes are bright and his smile mischievous. He wriggles around and declares, “Love attack!!!”

There are lots of kisses and shared silliness, and you laugh until there are tears in the corners of your eyes, little crystals breathlessly kissed away too in the moment. 

—

"And at last, I open my arms wide again to give you warmth. I'll do anything to make it right. Those stars are shining on us. I'll cherish this moment, all of it, my baby. I’m gonna love you… Love doesn't come easy, girl, but loving you is easy.  Every day without you feels hollow. Because our memories refine even our imperfect moments into treasured times, I reflect, calling love a beauty."

[star-ism]

𖧷 ⋆ﾟ MISSION: MAKE YOU MINE ・ 前田 陸

pairing ・ riku x reader genre ・ strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, whipped warnings ・ harsh languages, oblivious people, idk shit about sports

ׅ ׄ synopsis 𓂃ㅤ high school basketball star riku becomes infatuated with his coach’s daughter, yn. ignoring his better judgment, he makes a risky plan to win her over, jeopardizing his place on the team and his relationship with his coach. playlist

or in which⠀⏆⠀ ۟ yn, often pursued but rarely interested, starts noticing riku’s desperate attempts to win her favor. intrigued by his determination, she begins to pursue him.

profiles .ﾟ ・ ❨ troy bolton clones ❩ ・ ❨ my truthers ❩

ooo. czennie this is for you

ooi. be who you are

©star-ism 2024 / do not steal, copy, or translate | tags open

[hakkkuu]

i just got into nct wish 🫠 and Sion’s so damn fine..he seems so warm and gentle and laughs fondly at his other younger members taking care of them… but i wonder if he’s going to be such a hot hard dom in bed. like i want him to pin me down with such aggression 😌

THAT'S WHAT I WAS THINKINGGG he's so soft and cute ughh always laughing so nicely and wearing his flirty smile together with the seductive gaze I'm so crazy for him😔 I feel like he will give you princess treatment and will shower you in compliments through the entire day but once the bedroom door closes..he's so dirty and kinky. Definitely LOVES it all messy especially blow job..pushing your head down until you gag and drool all over him filling your throat with his load. He will fuck you until HE'S satisfied and there's nothing stopping him

[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.

[slytherinshua]

TEXTS WITH BOYFRIEND YUSHI

genre. fluff. fake texts. a lil crack. warnings. none i think. pairing. yushi x reader. request. request by @haecien my pookie enjoy <33 sry it took a lil bit longer than i wanted. a/n. i love yushi i want to bite him.

↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyujs,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @talking-saxy

[wonymao]

ᯓ. ⊹ cuddles w/ yushi 𖹭 !!

cuddles and kisses with your boyfriend yushi who comes home late <3

a/n; wrote this last night (right after i wrote supernova love so might not be good either) not proofread

yushi x gn!reader

no cws!! fluff, sfw

wc: 789

11:38pm.

youre sitting on the couch in your living room, eariler today your boyfriend, yushi, had texted you saying hes flying back to korea after finishing up the last tour date in japan.

its been a while since youve last seen him, since youve last hugged him. you miss him.

watching tv waiting for yushi to come to your apartment. shouldnt he be here by now? he hasnt texted you since he told you he's boarding the plane, ehich was 7 hours ago. maybe hes still busy. when he comes back, you promise to yourself to make sure he feels loved.

as time slowly passes by, you begin to feel tired. normally you would be in bed sleeping at this time, but youre forcing yourself to stay up. to greet him. grabbing the blanket beside you, covering yourself and lifting your knees up to your chest, warpping your arms around your knees, you could almost fall alseep in this position. you decide to take a nap. the door is unlocked, so anyone could walk in at any moment, but you live in a safe area. the only person who woukd be walking in wohld be yushi.

slowly closing your eyes, falling alseep with the faint noise of the tv in the background.

feeling a pair of arms wrap around you has you slowly open your eyes. realizing its yushi, you lean into your boyfriend who is sitting besidd you on the couch. "what time is it?" you slur your words from being too tired. closing your eyes again.

"its 1:27am.. im sorry for being so late" yushi says, his voice barely above a whisper. kissing your forehead he lifts you up, princess style. like how a father would when they realize their kid is sleeping in the car, so their only choice is to carry them to their bed.

feeling comfortablr in your boyfriends arms you hold onto him, smiling. he brings you to your rooms, laying you down softly on your bed. covering you up in the sheets, then laying down beside you.

you turn to face yushi, wrapping your arms around his neck, while his hands find his way to your lower back.

"yushi, i missed you so much" tears welling up in your eyes

"i missed you too y/n" leaning in to kiss your cheek. you want to be closer to him. you hide your face in his chest, throwing your left leg over his legs. still not close enough.

the two of you staying in this position, eventually falling asleep in each others arms.

7:19am

waking up, the first thing you see is yushis beautiful face. how can a man look so perfect? how did you get so lucky to have him all to yourself. he must be so tired with his busy schedule.

not wanting to wake him up but still wanting to be closer to him, you inch your way towards him as you both move a lot in your sleep. pressing your hands and face up against his chest. yushi feeling this, slowly waking up.

"good morning" his morning voice. its been a while since youve heard it. looking up to him smiling "good morning handsome" pecking his lips.

yushi not liking how short that was, moves one of his hand to the back of your head and the other softly on your cheek, he brings your face closer to his. kissing you, a real kiss.

"its been a while since we've seen each other and all you give me is a weak peck?" yushi playfully teases

making eye contact with your boyfriend, you can feel your heart beating out of your chest.

he just brings you closer, going in for another kiss. laughing in between each kiss, he guides you on top of him. straddling him while hes still laying down. his hands run along your back, going no farther down then your lower back while still kissing you.

"i missed being like this, i love you y/n" yushi says releasjng his lips from yours, letting you lay down on top of him, arms holding you in place.

"i love you too yushi" you say kissing his neck once, staying in this position for a while. the both of you wanting to cherish this moment before you both have to get up and get ready for the day. before he leaves you for a while again. because hes an idol, your relationship has to be on the low. it pains you knowing youre in a relationship, but the public cant know that he belongs to you. and youre his. youll make sure to photograph this memory of yushi in your mind

[00127am]

tokuno yushi & gn! reader about an eventual, albeit reluctant, confession, embarrassingly head-over-heels yushi word count 1K words

AUGUST 13 83 degrees 📀 my heart by western kite

"you look pretty,"

the chatter of passing people from beneath your open window nearly consumes each syllable of his compliment, tone much too soft to be deciphered through the hustle and bustle of the city. a noise partnered with the all too familiar serenade of cicadas and the steady stop and go of traffic. the life all around you so loud that yushi, in all his gentle and tender words, is almost forgotten. washed away with the sudden strike of high tide, only to be resurrected by the lull in the surf and your significantly fine tuned hearing.

"yeah?" a question poised in the undertaking of an action as you pull your shirt from over your head, collar getting stuck on the angle of your chin. a problem solved as quickly as it had arisen with one harsh tug until the article of clothing is tossed absentmindedly onto the bed behind you.

he swallows softly, eyelashes fawning against his cheeks as his head tilts upon his shoulder. catlike eyes follow the curves of your naked spine, tracing over every muscle, every beauty mark, every imperfection and division. his answer is one made without thought, an immediate response that even he finds to be said much too instantaneously. "yeah,"

"thank you," you unbutton your jeans, shaking them off the bone of your hips with a few light steps and a yank at your beltloops. balancing on one foot as you slide them down your legs, kicking them off with a rightward snap of your ankle.

"have i ever told you that?"

you crouch down to one of your wardrobe drawers, sliding it open in a single, fluid motion. tongue caught in between your teeth as you sift through the clothing, fingertips slipping over the folded fabric once, twice, then three times over until you've successfully found the bottoms you've been searching for. "that i'm pretty?"

he nods, leaning against the doorframe as he watches you stand to your full height. a motion undertaken with little thought, one that he realizes you did not catch with the continued silence on your part. so instead, he offers you a hum of affirmation. one which stands out from the noise of your backdrop, a sound much too sweet too blend into anything else.

you pause, thinking for a moment before tugging on your pants. brows furrowed and nose scrunched as you button them, slender fingers dropping to the zipper. despite the thorough mundanity of the action, your red-haired counterpart gazes upon you as if you were dancing a pirouette la seconde. though, he supposes that he would watch paint dry if you were the one who had put it there. "i'm not sure,"

"well i do," he says, lips parted and tongue caught gently between them, expression tensed as if it were a matter of life or death, "think you're pretty, i mean,"

you laugh, eyes flicking upwards to meet his gaze. eyelashes upon eyebrows, the upwards curve of your lips obscured by the angle of your chin. your inflection is genuine, earnest. "so are you,"

despite the warmth which spreads throughout his chest at the register of your reply, your words are anything but. they're cool. refreshing and short-lived, like a breeze in the unrelenting gaze of the summer sun. one he wished would lay upon his skin for even a second longer, yearning for the chill which lays upon his spine and the sigh of relief which escapes his tongue.

swallowed in the heatwave of june, you're the only one who could make yushi freeze. and perhaps that's why his next words slip off his tongue with such ease, such an unconsciousness that he barely registers that he was the one who said them.

"i was in love with you last year,"

if you were at all startled by the sudden admission, you didn't show it. instead busying yourself with adorning your top chosen just a few moments prior. you're focused on straightening your shirt, attention unfocused on the boy in front of you. and for once, yushi's glad to not hold every ounce of your consideration. for if he did, if he was met by your gaze (the one which makes his heart drop to his knees) then he's positive he might explode.

your tone is nonchalant, an underlying hint of amusement evident in the ending intonation of your vowels. "really? did my failing grade in economics charm you?"

he shrugs, attempting to keep his tone every bit as casual as yours (it doesn't work, in fact, he sounds too much like a schoolboy with a crush for his replies to be considered anything but lovesick). "a bit,"

"glad it did something," you laugh, finally picking up your head to meet his gaze. a movement which encourages the sudden flight of a million and one butterflies, battering and banging against the walls of his stomach and sending his cheeks burning a shade of red most akin to his hair. "but now?"

yushi clears his throat, a last ditch effort for any sliver of composure (one which reaps no rewards). "what about now?"

arching your brow, you shoot him a incredulous look. as if what you were referring too was all but obvious (it was, but he's trying so desperately hard to wear an aloof facade despite the feeling of it unraveling with each and every glance in your direction). "you said last year. was in love. past tense,"

your words are spoken with a hint of haughtiness, a puffed up pride which sits upon your head like a golden crown. as if you had just gotten him to admit something you already knew and won the cat-and-mouse game which the two of you have been rattling between for the last year and a half. something that for all intents and purposes, you had. a trend which he was all but reluctant to continue. an unwillingness that lasts for just a fraction of a second. he huffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms in a show of faux annoyance. "i'm not giving you the satisfaction of using present tense,"

"but you would use it?"

"yeah," like the initial confession, the answer comes easy. slipping down from upon the tip of his tongue as smooth as honey. pooling in the roar of your heartbeat and resting upon the crimson blush of his cheeks. yushi's words are spoken with such an ease, such a natural lilt as if they are the only things in the world which he was ever meant to attest. "i would,"

🧾 © 00127AM 2024