Mark Anastasio Tiktok の小説・ストーリー

Branded. Take that, Mark

"Yeah, Mark said not to blame me but I can't help it guys." "I will take care of myself and come back stronger. I am sorry once again I have to leave now I love you guys a lot. I will try and drop a selfie to every once in a while and some covers too I promise I won't disappear totally on you guys. I love you bye." He said and the live ended he wiped the few tears that had welled up in his eyes and looked up at Mark who was telling the team to be careful not to touch his legs in the process of parking up the instrument used for the live video.

"So, tell me your other name." "Marc." "Tony Marc?" I teased him. His laugh is so beautiful. My heart is just melting for him. "Marc Anthony." "Ah! Like the singer!" "Like the Roman General." "Whoa! Where is your Cleopatra?" He laughed again. Nick never laughs at anything i say. This kid thinks I'm funny. I pushed the dark mess of straight back hair back. "So, Nick likes you a lot but don't tell him I said so."

**Marcus (my brother):** elijah you cannot hack restaurants **Elijah:** and yet **Adrian:** ADRIA TEXT US I typed quickly, one eye on the door. **Me:** I'm fine. I'm in the bathroom. Dinner has been...different. **Sophia:** different how **Me:** He's been. Paying attention. **Adrian:** paying attention like a PR stunt or paying attention like an actual human being **Me:** I don't know yet. That's the problem. **Elijah:** the tiktok edits of you and kieran are at 800k views collectively by the way. someone made one called "the wrong husband" and it's at 400k alone.

I touched the mark on my neck,still a little dazed. Back when I thought my mate would only ever be Andrew,I never could have imagined being marked by someone else. Last night,after Austin's relentless persuasion,I'd agreed to let him mark me—so he'd have something to show his family. Austin studied the mark on my neck. "Let's go see my parents together.Otherwise my mom will keep thinking I'm making it all up." This marking felt strangely unreal. Three years ago,there'd been a grand wedding—all the ceremony and none of the substance.No mark.All of it had been a performance for an audience,a facade of happiness.

He is beautiful, his dark brown hair, his sharp jaw, his thin pink lips and his small nose. He is a perfect package. Too bad that perfection stops at the bedroom door. I sigh, slowly easing his arm away from my waist and sitting up. I turn the bedside lamp on and grab the pillow, placing it behind my back and leaning on the headboard. I grab my phone and decide to scroll through tiktok. After an hour or so, sleep finally comes for me. I wake up the next morning, stretching my hands as the memories of last night return. Mark isn't here. I check the time and see it's only 6 am. He is probably out jogging or working out.

I interrupted him directly, "No! I won't go back with you. This is my home. Also, I already have a mate. Stop bothering me." James abruptly looked at me, his pupils widening in shock. "What did you say?" Ryan strode over and took my hand calmly. The scent of his mark on me emanated undisguisedly. "Alpha, today is a big day in which Emma and I become mates. I won't hold your nonsense against you, but please leave our house immediately." James was stunned for a moment before answering, "This joke isn't funny at all." "I'm not joking, Alpha James. Ryan has marked me. We're mates now."

I hate this so much attention. “Deme, are you there?” Anastasia called out to me, forgetting that I’m still on the call. “Yes. I just can’t believe it.” “Believe it, girl, it’s the same inscription trending on the media.” She said, reminding me to tap on the link. And true to her words, it’s the same. Lots of comments and likes. “Four million likes? On I*******m? Just two hours ago?” “Yes, girl! Your man really outdid himself.”

It's not like he's some movie star or some freaking famous football star. "Trent Aston," He winks at me. "G****e me." ××××

"This is crazy. I don't even know you." "Your name is Ava." He said it softly, reverently. "Ava Marie Chen. You were born on June twenty-first, eighteen years ago. You have a birthmark on your right hip shaped like a crescent moon. When you were seven, you broke your arm falling out of a tree, and you cried more because you couldn't climb anymore than because it hurt." Tears were streaming down my face now, and I didn't even know why. "Stop. Please stop."