Super Junior Fanfiction

With mixed feelings, Jillian Moore goes to the casting of the new season of "The Super Model" to investigate the case of a missing girl behind the scenes. Before she knows it, she stumbles into a turbulent whirlpool of glamour, ambition and shady dealings. When, to make matters worse, she falls in love and has to shimmy from one lie to the next, her life seems to come completely apart at the seams ...

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"

Guns, katanas, arrows, bows, bullets, and strings were her ideal instrument of choice. While the youth her age was in a classroom studying, she was busy raising a child and training to be an assassin. Albeit having it rough almost all her life, she was a cheerful secretary to one of the most eligible bachelor CEO in town by day and a deadly assassin by night. Things were going smoothly for a while until she fell for the CEO. Xander was a man known for his charm and his wealth. Women loved his physique and wealth. Men were jealous of his gains in life. ................ Gunshots rang in the once peacefully chaotic room: A tremendous change from the blazing and super hype partying atmosphere to a battlefield. Alexander got lost in his mind for a few minutes. Shortly after, the nightmare from the past took the reign over his conscious mind. The momentary lapse in focus almost cost him his life: as a bullet came flying towards him. "Nooo...." came a familiar feminine voice running towards his form and then .....

Charlotte is a resident doctor with the body and dreams of a model. She is in a cat and rat relationship with billionaire business man Ontario who has a crush on her since like forever. Charlotte had a huge crush for mega super star, Jake Reid but Jake turns out to an arrogant clean freak. Will there be a love triangle?....

Five years ago, my junior made a mistake in the experiment, resulting in an explosion in the lab. In an effort to save my childhood friend, Andrew, I suffered severe burns to one side of my face and was falsely accused as the culprit. Just like that, I became the target of everyone's anger. Only Andrew stood by me, promising, "I love you for who you are, not your appearance. I'll always be there to protect you." But on our wedding day, he vanished without a trace. My mother, suffering from heart disease and barely clinging to life, wanted to see Andrew. When I asked him to come, he replied impatiently, "Are you using such a lame excuse to meet me? Don't you have any shame? Every time I look at your face, I feel disgusting." I pleaded desperately, but he calmly hung up. "Do you think I'm your servant? You can't just summon me whenever you want. Just because you saved me once doesn't mean you can blackmail me for life." My mother died without peace. The junior who slandered me back then later posted a photo on social media, showing a man lifting her effortlessly. Their poses were intimate, highlighting the underlying affection. Her captions read: [It's all his fault for tiring me out during the day. I almost missed out on this beautiful ocean. When you're in love, all is clear to see. I mentioned wanting to go to Belmar Island, and he flew me around the world for it.] I was utterly heartbroken, so I texted him: [Let's break up…]

~Did she cut her wedding gown off? What the heck! How could she turn it to that? ~ ~ What's going on with her? Why is she in sneakers? ~ ~What's she holding behind her ~ My ears listened to their whispers as I stood at the doorstep about to enter the hall. My gaze fell on my soon-to-be husband waiting for me by the alter and I chuckled remembering everything. Well, yes, I shortened my most beautiful wedding gown to a short gown that reaches above my knees and also on sneakers instead of heels, but then, this feeling is different; I've never felt this way my entire life. I'm supposed to be feeling rage boiling through my veins, anger, fury, accompanied with pains, and screams but that's not the case. Right now, I'm feeling super excited. Without delaying it any longer, I revealed the KRISS Vector gun I had been hiding behind me, and their facial expressions were joy-giving. I burst into laughter before releasing the fire on them. Wondering the kind of bride I am? I am Elora, the bride who went on a killing spree on her wedding day.

I don't inform Hunter Nabb when I'm bitten by a rabid dog in the late stages of my pregnancy. Instead, I call the police. Why? Because he got into an accident when he hurried to me in my past life. It killed his junior. He was depressed for a day but quickly bounced back. He cared for me until I recovered. I thought the rumors of amorosity between him and his junior was just a figment of my imagination. However, the day I gave birth, he locked me in a cage, allowing a rabid dog to attack me and the baby. He looked down at me imperiously, his tone cold and ruthless. "You can trick everyone, but not me. Would a dog have bitten you if you hadn't provoked it? Do you know you killed Willow with your dirty tricks? She was pregnant with my child when she died!" When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to when the rabid dog bites me.

My name is Christian Thompson, and once upon a time, I was the best striker in European football. That was until he came along—Ashford Ryder, young and carefree, 10 years my junior and the new shining star. I hate him. At least that's what I tell myself. Not just because he's taken my spot, but because he's everything I've struggled all my life to be, and not to be. He's vibrant, he's happy, and the worst of all, he's openly gay. I'm not homophobic, quite the opposite—I've lived in the closet all my life. All my life, I've had to hide who I am to please the people around me. European football hasn't always been this accepting of gay men, and I'd squeezed myself into a box to fit in with what they wanted of me. It isn’t that hard when you think about my family who'd rather disown me than have an openly gay son. So imagine how I feel when the world decides to be more accommodating to people like Ashford Ryder when they shoved me in a box. It's not so easy to hate the happy-go-lucky striker, when he does everything to get close to me, despite my insistent hatred for him. He's like a thorn in my side—a hot, sexy, blonde, 5ft9 thorn I can't stop thinking about. But when one day I lose my cool around the popular striker and land myself in bad press, I end up needing his help. It's supposed to be easy. Spend some time with Ashford Ryder, and show our fans that we can work together—it's what I need to do to save my career. But no one tells you how hard it is to hate someone you spend every waking hour dreaming about.

I quit and dipped. City threw a parade. Only Jenna Blake—my oh-so-gifted junior who claimed she could "see through killers' eyes"—lost it. At her celebration banquet, she went full drama queen: "I owe everything to Kate Mercer. Please, bring her back!" I laughed. Cold. Not happening. Last time around, I was the hotshot detective. But every clue I found? She dropped it first like she read my mind. People started saying I was washed. So I went all in—three months, no sleep, cracked a massive trafficking ring. Led the raid myself. She beat me there. Again. Place was cleaned out. Boom. She's the city's golden girl. I'm the clown with no game. Pressure got ugly. My head snapped. I died chasing the last scumbag. Then—bam. I woke up. Same day. Raid morning. Round two.

The Revoltoir Household is a very wealthy household. It has everything every noble wished for. Wealth? Power? They have it all. That house produced a lot of legends in the Empire. Little did they know, that house is the most despicable house of all. All because of the secret Tradition that is also known as Bataille De Survie. The 5 geniuses of the current generation of this house got super close. As they don't want to fight and kill each other, they decided to make a plan to overthrow their father and to make one of them be the new Grand Duke and to put a stop to their horrible tradition. Will they pull it off? or will they all die protecting one another?