[daily3racha]

CHANGBIN — RECORD OF THE YEAR @ THE FACT MUSIC AWARDS

[theneverendingwaterfall]

Man plays a dangerous game

[kpopkurves]

Velvet Sin

Themes: Dark Romance | Obsession | Possessive | Power Play | NSFW Themes (Implied)

Pairing Bang Chan x Reader/YN

Part 1 of ???

⸻

The air was thick suffocating with heat and hunger, laced with the kind of silence that screamed. The only light came from the flicker of candles dripping wax down antique holders, and the slow, steady inhale of the man leaning against the wall like sin dressed in black.

Bang Chan.

He didn’t speak. Just watched you.

Eyes dark. Patient. Consuming.

He had that look again like he was deciding whether to kiss you or destroy you. Maybe both.

“You were late,” he finally said, voice gravel and silk, low enough to make your stomach knot.

“I had to-”

“Don’t lie to me.” His tone was sharp, a blade cloaked in velvet.

You flinched before you could stop yourself. That always amused him. You were brave with everyone else, but not with him. Not when his control could unravel you with just a glance.

Chan pushed off the wall and stalked toward you with the kind of slow, calculated steps that made your breath catch. There was something predatory in the way he moved like he already owned every inch of you, and was just deciding how to remind you.

“You think I don’t see the way they look at you?” he murmured, circling you. “The way you look back? Like I wouldn’t notice. Like you forgot who your fucking soul belongs to.”

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t talk. Not until I say you can.”

His gloved fingers slid beneath your jaw, tilting your chin up until your eyes met his. There was heat there, yes but also danger. Obsession.

“I should keep you here,” he whispered. “Hidden. Locked in this room. Where no one else can look at you. Touch you. Tempt you.”

You trembled, not from fear but from the weight of wanting that too much.

He leaned in, nose brushing yours, lips just barely grazing. “You don’t belong to the world, {Y/N}. You belong to me.”

“I’m not yours,” you whispered, weakly because even you didn’t believe it anymore.

He chuckled, dark and low. “Oh sweetheart. That lie doesn’t even sound good in your mouth.”

His hand slid down your throat to your chest, resting flat over your heartbeat. “This? It beats for me. Every thud is a reminder of who owns you. I don’t just want your body. I want your mind. Your fear. Your loyalty. I want the broken parts too.”

You felt dizzy drunk on him, on the way his presence swallowed every thought.

Chan’s lips ghosted along your ear. “Say it,” he demanded. “Say who you belong to.”

You closed your eyes. The fight in you had long since burned to ash.

“I belong to you.”

His lips curved against your skin. “That’s my good girl.”

Then he kissed you hard, consuming, dangerous. The kind of kiss that didn’t ask permission, the kind that marked. Claimed. Seared itself into your soul.

And when he pulled back, breathless and wild-eyed, he said the words that would stay with you long after the lights went out.

“I’ll ruin every version of you that doesn’t belong to me.”

And deep down, you wanted him to.

You left in the middle of the night.

No goodbye. No note. Just silence, like it might erase the hold he had on you. Your footsteps echoed down the marble hallway, each one heavier than the last, like your body already knew this wasn’t real. That you couldn’t outrun him.

But you had to try.

Because Chan was consuming you thought by thought, breath by breath. He didn’t just love you. He possessed you. And that kind of love… it was lethal.

For three weeks, you stayed gone. A new city. A new number. You stopped looking over your shoulder, stopped checking every black car that passed. Almost convinced yourself that you were free.

Until tonight.

The knock on the door was slow methodical. You knew it before you opened it. Knew it in your bones. Your heart tried to climb out of your chest as you turned the knob.

He was standing there, drenched in midnight and fury.

Bang Chan. Unbothered. Dangerous. Home.

“You really thought you could leave me?” he asked, voice calm in a way that made your blood run cold.

“I had to,” you whispered. “You were suffocating me.”

He stepped inside without permission, closing the door behind him with a click that sounded like a lock on a cage.

“Suffocating you?” he repeated, stepping closer until your back hit the wall. “No, baby. I breathed for you. I gave you everything. And you threw it away.”

“You controlled everything-”

“Because you’re mine.” His hands slammed against the wall on either side of your head. “I know your darkness. I know what you crave. Don’t pretend you didn’t love being ruined by me.”

Your breath hitched. Because he was right.

You missed the chaos. The obsession. The way he made you feel like the center of the universe even if the gravity was killing you.

His voice dropped, low and dangerous. “You think you can live without me? You think I won’t tear the world apart to keep you?”

His hand found your wrist, dragging it up and pressing your palm against his chest. His heart pounded beneath your touch fast, wild, angry.

“This is what you did to me. You left me bleeding for you. Every second you were gone, I wanted to burn the world down.”

“You don’t own me, Chan.”

He laughed a low, unhinged sound. “No? Then why did you open the door?”

Silence.

You hated how right he was.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he whispered, brushing his lips against your ear. “You don’t want freedom. You want me. The chaos. The control. The way I bend you to my will and make you beg for more.”

Your body betrayed you, leaning in desperate, weak.

“You’ll run again,” he murmured, voice dripping with dark affection. “But you’ll always come back. Because no one else knows how to love the broken, filthy parts of you like I do. No one else will worship your ruin like I do.”

He kissed you then brutal, claiming, the kind of kiss that pulled you under and didn’t let go. You moaned against his mouth, hating how much you needed him. Hating how good it felt to be wanted this violently.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was low and final.

“There’s no way out, {Y/N}. You’re mine. In this life, and the next.”

And in the sickest part of your soul the one he’d carved his name into you knew he was right.

You never really left.

[kpopkurves]

Sweet Like Sin

Theme: Smut, NSFW, forbidden love

Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader/YN

_____

The scent of honey and heat filled the air, mingling with the low thrum of music as Mingi knelt between your thighs, shirt gone, hair messy from your fingers. His mouth was wet and swollen, glistening with the gold he’d licked from your skin, and his eyes those damn eyes were pure hunger.

He looked wrecked.

And you hadn’t even touched him yet.

“You taste like you were made to ruin me,” he muttered, dragging his tongue along your inner thigh, slow enough to make your toes curl. His voice rasped in your chest like gravel and silk. “I’ve dreamed of this. You… laid out like this. All soft. All mine.”

You whimpered, reaching down to tug at his hair, but he caught your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand.

“Nuh-uh, baby. You don’t get to rush this. I’ve waited too fucking long.”

His free hand dipped between your legs, two fingers spreading you open as he stared, mesmerized.

“Dripping already? That sweet little mouth says ‘please’ once and your pussy’s begging too?” He chuckled low, almost in disbelief. “You’re filthier than I thought.”

And then he dove in.

His mouth was hot wet, possessive, and starving.

He licked like he meant it. Like he needed it to survive.

Every drag of his tongue had your back arching, hips bucking, but his grip was iron on your thighs. His nose brushed your clit as he sucked your folds in his mouth, sloppily, greedily like a man eating his last meal.

The honey made it messy. Sweet. Sticky. Erotic beyond belief.

You were shaking in minutes.

“Mingi-fuck-I’m gonna-”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, lips slick, chin shining. “You gonna cum already, pretty girl?”

You nodded desperately.

His smirk turned downright dangerous. “Not yet.”

He pulled away completely. You almost cried.

“You think I’m letting you finish without me inside you?” he growled, standing and unbuckling his jeans in one smooth, practiced motion. His cock sprang free, heavy, thick, leaking for you.

And fuck he was huge.

He saw the way your eyes widened. “Scared?”

“No,” you whispered, breathless. “Want it.”

“Oh, I know you do,” he said, guiding himself to your entrance, teasing your folds with the blunt head. “Your pussy’s literally begging for me.”

And then he pushed in.

Slow. Deep. Stretching you inch by inch.

Your moan was punched from your lungs, head falling back as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours.

Mingi stilled.

“Holy fuck. You feel… perfect.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, breathing hard, voice trembling now. “I knew it. I knew no one else could ever feel like this. That it had to be you.”

You blinked up at him, heart pounding.

His next thrust knocked the air from your lungs sharp, deep, and full of desperation. “You hear me?” he groaned. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you.”

Another thrust. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

“And now I’m gonna fuck you until you understand just how deep that shit goes.”

—————-

He was still inside you deep and pulsing his confession echoing between your bodies like a prayer.

“I’m in love with you,” he’d said, voice thick with lust and truth.

You could barely breathe. Not with the way he filled you. Not with the weight of those words. And certainly not with the way he started to move again slow at first, then deeper, harder, every stroke dragging against that sweet, swollen spot inside you that had you clenching around him like a vice.

“Fuck, just like that,” he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder. “You’re so tight… you were made for me, weren’t you?”

Your nails dug into his back, leaving angry red lines, but he loved it. Growled for it. Thrust harder.

“You keep squeezing me like that and I’ll cum too fast,” he warned, pulling back just enough to look down at you. His hair was falling into his eyes, skin slick, jaw tight. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

He pulled out completely and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness, but before you could beg, he flipped you over and dragged you onto your knees, ass up, cheek pressed to the pillow.

“You’re gonna take it all again, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Every inch. Every drop. Until it’s leaking out of you.”

And he slammed back in.

You cried out. He didn’t stop.

This time, he didn’t hold back. He was pounding into you now unrelenting, feral, hips snapping against yours with the sound of skin slapping skin, the sweet stick of honey still clinging to both your bodies like sin.

His hand wrapped around your throat, lifting you slightly, his lips brushing your ear. “You feel that? That’s how much I love you, baby. Deep. Violent. Real.”

Your body was burning pleasure so high it bordered pain, but it was everything. Over and over, he hit that spot inside you that made your eyes roll back, thighs shaking, mouth open in a silent scream.

“Mingi-please-I can’t-” you sobbed, overwhelmed, wrecked.

“Yes, you can,” he growled. “You’ll take it again. You’ll cum again. I want you ruined for everyone but me.”

He reached between your legs and rubbed your clit in tight, fast circles, lips at your ear. “Cum, sweetheart. All over me. I want it messy.”

And you did.

Your orgasm ripped through you, violent and wet. Your legs gave out, body spasming around his cock as he fucked you through it, still rubbing your clit, still praising you through gritted teeth.

“That’s it. So good for me. So fucking perfect.”

But Mingi wasn’t finished.

He pulled out with a hiss, flipped you back onto your back, and slid down between your thighs.

“Too much,” you breathed, squirming but he pinned you, smirking.

“Not even close.”

And then his mouth was on you again.

He licked you through your orgasm, and into another one his tongue merciless, slow and steady, alternating between soft sucks and hard flicks of your clit until you were crying from overstimulation.

“*Mingi-please-*I need a break-”

“You’ll get one after one more,” he murmured against your soaked cunt. “Give me one more, baby. I know you can.”

And you did.

You shattered.

And when he slid back in, riding the aftershocks, whispering “I love you, I love you, I fucking love you” it wasn’t just sex anymore.

It was everything.

—————-

The room smelled like sex and honey and heat.

Your body was trembling, slick with sweat and love, and you barely registered Mingi moving his touch was so gentle now. A complete contrast from the man who had you sobbing into the pillows moments ago.

“Hey…” he whispered, brushing damp strands from your face as you blinked up at him. “Still with me?”

You nodded weakly.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then your jaw. “Good. You did so fucking well for me, baby.”

His voice was honey itself now thick, sweet, and slow.

He rose from the couch and disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm towel. You winced as he gently spread your legs again, and his expression immediately softened.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, crouching between your thighs. “Just let me take care of you.”

The warm towel touched your skin, carefully wiping away the stickiness of honey and cum. He was so attentive, so patient making sure you were clean, comfortable, seen. When he was done, he pressed a kiss to your knee, then rested his cheek there for a beat, just breathing you in.

“I love this version of you,” you whispered, fingers brushing through his hair.

He looked up at you. “What version is that?”

“The one that’s not scared to feel.”

Mingi climbed back up beside you, pulling you into his arms, your body curling against his naturally. His hands traced up your spine, lazy and soft, like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“I wasn’t scared to feel,” he murmured against your hair. “I was scared to lose.”

You blinked up at him.

“I’ve wanted you since the first time I heard you laugh,” he confessed. “And I told myself I’d keep it casual. But then you started staying longer. Looking at me different. Wearing my hoodies like they belonged to you.”

You smiled into his chest. “They do.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, squeezing you tighter. “Yeah, they do.”

You laid there in silence for a while, his fingers trailing lazy shapes on your back. The tension from earlier had melted into something quieter now warmer. Safer.

And then his hand moved down, gripping your thigh and sliding it over his hip.

“Mingi,” you warned softly, laughing.

“I know,” he whispered. “But I need to feel you again. Just once more.”

His kiss was slow this time, deep and careful as he rolled you onto your back, settling between your legs. His body was still warm, but his urgency had softened into something reverent.

He slid back inside you like he belonged there.

No rush. No force.

Just the stretch. The heat. The connection.

You both gasped at the sensation.

“Still so tight,” he moaned. “Even after everything…”

His pace was languid now loving. His hips rolled into you with rhythm and depth, each stroke a worship, every kiss to your lips and jaw and throat full of things words couldn’t say.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered into your ear.

“I always was.”

His movements faltered for a second hitched. And then he kissed you so deep it made you ache, his body pressing flush against yours as he came again, whispering your name like a vow.

—————-

Morning came slow.

Golden light streamed through the cracked blinds, casting soft stripes across the sheets tangled around your bare legs. Your body was sore in all the right ways thighs aching, lips swollen, hips bruised where Mingi had held you like you were the last good thing in the world.

You stretched, wincing a little, and felt his hand skim across your stomach under the blanket.

“Mm,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. “Still here.”

You turned to look at him. He was propped up on one elbow, shirtless, hair a chaotic mess, pillow lines on his cheek.

“You thought I’d sneak out?” you teased, voice raspy.

He shrugged. “I’ve had dreams like last night before. Wouldn’t be the first time I woke up disappointed.”

You reached out and traced a lazy line down his chest. “This was real, Mingi.”

“I know,” he whispered, catching your hand and kissing your knuckles. “I just don’t want to wake up one day and realize I imagined you.”

You bit your lip, watching him. There was something in his eyes vulnerability, raw and soft, that cracked you wide open.

“You won’t,” you whispered. “I’m here.”

A long beat passed. Then he smiled, eyes dipping to your neck.

“You’re also covered in me.”

You laughed, hand flying to your throat where the faintest bruise sat just above your collarbone.

“Oh my god.”

“And lower,” he added, grinning as he pulled the blanket back. “Thighs. Hips. Right here” he ran a thumb over a bite mark near your waist “that one was on purpose.”

You shoved him. “You’re disgusting.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” you admitted without hesitation.

He rolled on top of you, caging you in with his body but keeping his weight off. His smile softened.

“So… what now?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Was that a one-time thing? Friends with benefits? A sex dream we pretend didn’t happen?”

You paused. He was serious.

“Or,” he said, voice a little quieter, “are you mine now?”

Your heart stuttered.

“I’ve always been yours, Mingi.”

His smile turned downright radiant like the sun decided to live in his face. He leaned down and kissed you slow, deep, like he finally had permission to kiss you for the rest of his life.

And then~

Ring. Ring.

You both froze.

The sound cut through the room like a siren your phone, somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes on the floor.

You groaned. “Ignore it.”

But it kept ringing.

And then Mingi’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. Twice. Then three times.

“Shit,” he muttered, rolling off you and grabbing it.

His eyes scanned the screen, and the color drained from his face.

You sat up slowly. “What is it?”

He swallowed.

“Dispatch,” he said flatly.

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“They’re… already posting.” He turned the phone toward you.

A blurry photo. Two silhouettes.

Your legs around his waist. The jar of honey on the nightstand. His face in your neck.

The caption:

“Is this ATEEZ’s Mingi in a compromising position? Fans speculate who the mystery woman might be…”

Your blood ran cold.

“Mingi…” you whispered.

But his gaze stayed locked on the screen.

Then slowly, he looked at you, jaw clenched—but not in anger. He took your hand, squeezing tight.

“I’m not hiding you.”

—————-

The internet was already burning by the time you opened your phone.

#MingiCaught

#WhoIsHoneyGirl

#ATEEZMingi trended number one worldwide. The grainy image the two of you locked in that honey-slicked, toe-curling embrace was splashed across fan accounts, gossip forums, even K-pop news outlets. Blurred. Deniable. But not really.

And that damn honey jar?

Front and center.

You stared at it, sitting innocent on the nightstand in the background like a witness to your sins.

Mingi paced the room, one hand gripping the back of his neck, the other holding his phone while it wouldn’t stop buzzing.

Call after call.

Manager. Label rep. Seonghwa. Yunho.

“Are you okay?” you asked, sitting up, wrapped in his hoodie.

He stopped pacing.

“I’m fine.” His voice was tense. Controlled. But his jaw ticked. “They’re freaking out. Trying to figure out how to spin this.”

You hesitated. “Do you… want to spin this?”

His eyes snapped to you.

“No.” It came out like a growl. He crossed the room in two steps and dropped to his knees in front of you, gripping your hands. “I’m not walking this back. I meant what I said.”

You blinked. “About what?”

“About loving you.” His voice cracked. “I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen. I’m not going to pretend you don’t matter. You’re not some secret I’m ashamed of, {Y/N}.”

Your breath caught.

“Mingi…”

He pressed his forehead to your knees.

“They told me to keep my image clean. To avoid distractions. That being with someone like you would complicate everything.” He looked up, voice low and rough. “You’re not a complication. You’re the only thing that’s felt real.”

The words hit deep. Raw. Unfiltered.

You cupped his face. “You’re sure?”

“I’d do it again,” he said. “I’d post the photo myself if it meant claiming you in front of the whole damn world.”

You kissed him then. Hard. Messy. Needy.

Because how could you not?

—————

Hours later, you were curled on his couch again, now in sweats, phones off, the world outside a blur.

Until~

A ding.

Mingi’s iPad lit up on the counter with a notification from a K-pop gossip account.

He groaned. “Should I even look?”

You laughed. “Too late, I’m already opening it.”

And there it was.

A meme.

Split screen.

Left: The blurry Dispatch photo of you and Mingi.

Right: A zoomed-in, high contrast, heavily filtered shot of the honey jar.

The caption?

“Not the honey being the real star of the scandal.”

#HoneyGate

#HoneyGirlRevealed

#SweetLikeSin

You burst out laughing.

“Oh my god. The internet thinks I’m ‘Honey Girl.’”

Mingi smirked, leaning over to read the comments aloud.

“She got him moaning with honey?? Babe what’s in that jar??”

“ATEEZ’s next concept better involve bees.”

“I’m not even mad. She earned that man.”

“Protect Honey Girl at all costs.”

He turned to you, eyes full of something fierce and tender all at once.

“They’re right.”

“About what?”

“You earned me,” he said. “You own me.”

Your heart flipped, and suddenly he was kissing you again, slow and deep, hands already slipping under your shirt.

“You ready for round… what are we on now?” he whispered against your lips.

“Seven,” you breathed. “If we count the kitchen.”

“Oh, we’re counting everything.”

————

The company’s statement dropped before noon.

“The individual in the photo is not confirmed to be Mingi. ATEEZ’s members are currently focusing on their group schedule. We ask fans to refrain from speculation.”

It was vague. Cold. Corporate.

Mingi stared at it on his phone, unimpressed.

“Cowards,” he muttered.

You leaned over, reading the comments under the official post.

“So it’s Mingi.”

“Focusing on schedules while focusing on her thighs.”

“Let him live!”

“Honey Girl deserves her flowers.”

Still, not everyone was kind.

Your socials were a war zone DMs flooded with heart emojis and death threats in equal measure. People picked apart your photos, your body, your identity, trying to unmask you fully. Some claimed you didn’t deserve him. Others said you were perfect for him.

Mingi watched you scroll, and something in his jaw twitched.

He walked over, snatched the phone from your hands, and tossed it onto the bed.

“Enough,” he said. “You’re not doing that.”

You blinked. “Mingi-”

“No one gets to make you feel small for loving me,” he growled. “Especially not behind a screen. Let them talk. Let them guess. They don’t get to define what this is.”

Before you could respond, the doorbell rang.

Mingi frowned. “Stay here.”

You watched him pad shirtless down the hallway, broad shoulders tense. A few moments later, low voices echoed. Then~

“Yo. You weren’t answering your phone.”

It was San.

He stepped into the apartment like he’d done it a hundred times but this time, he stopped when he saw you.

Your face flushed, remembering the Dispatch photo. The honey jar. The way Mingi had.

San nodded slowly. “So it was you.”

You looked away. “Yeah. Sorry if we-”

“Girl, don’t apologize.” He smirked, tossing Mingi a look. “I knew something was up when this man started humming love songs in the studio.”

Mingi groaned. “Don’t start.”

San held up a hand. “I’m not here to lecture. I’m here to tell you the guys know… and honestly? We’re just happy he’s smiling again.”

Your heart swelled.

“I’m glad,” you said softly.

San leaned in like he was sharing a secret. “Also… that jar’s legendary now. There’s fanart.”

“FANART?” you and Mingi shouted at the same time.

San nodded. “And merch. I bought a mug that says ‘Spread Me Like Honey.’”

Mingi almost choked on air. You buried your face in a pillow, dying of secondhand shame and laughter.

⸻

Later that night, after San left and your laughter died down, Mingi curled up next to you, phone in hand.

He opened VLive.

“Mingi,” you said, wide-eyed. “Are you seriously going live right now?”

He grinned. “You’ll see.”

The screen lit up. Thousands flooded in.

ATEEZ_MINGI has started a live.

“Hey, everyone,” he said, voice low and warm. “Mingi here. Just wanted to check in… and clear some things up.”

You tensed behind him, heart racing.

He looked directly into the camera.

“Yes. That photo? That’s me. And yes before you ask she’s real.”

The chat exploded.

OMG

HE SAID SHE’S REAL

MINGI CONFIRMED

HONEY GIRL RISE

Mingi smiled.

“I won’t say her name. Not yet. Not until she’s ready. But I’ll say this she makes me laugh. She makes me better. And if loving her costs me everything… I’ll still choose her.”

You stared at him, breath gone.

He ended the live with a simple line:

“She’s not just my girl. She’s my muse.”

——————

It wasn’t a five-star hotel.

It was better.

A remote, private onsen in the mountains, hidden under layers of mist and tradition. The kind of place that didn’t ask questions, that didn’t have Wi-Fi, and most importantly didn’t have cameras.

The ride there was quiet.

Not awkward.

Just… thick with unspoken thoughts.

He drove. You watched him. Sunglasses on. Jaw tight. Fingers tapping the steering wheel like he was building up to something.

He didn’t say what.

Not yet.

⸻

The room was minimalist. Tatami mats, soft futon, a wooden deck that opened directly to a steaming, open-air spring. You exhaled slowly, trying to push away the tension that had lived between your shoulder blades ever since the VLive.

Mingi stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You’re quiet,” he said.

You leaned back into him. “So are you.”

“I’m thinking.”

“About?”

He didn’t answer. Just nuzzled your neck.

The heat of his breath against your skin made you shiver. The way he kissed the spot under your jaw made you moan.

His fingers slipped under your shirt. Traced your sides. Teased the swell of your hips.

“Get in with me,” he whispered.

⸻

The water was hot. Almost too hot. But the steam clung to your skin like a lover, and Mingi?

Mingi was something else entirely.

He sat across from you, submerged to the waist, muscles glistening, eyes dark. He hadn’t touched you yet, not fully but you could feel him. Like gravity. Like sin.

“Come here,” he said.

You shook your head, teasing. “You come here.”

His gaze dropped to your mouth, and when he crossed the water to you, it was slow. Purposeful. Like a predator who already knew the kill was his.

“You keep making me chase,” he said, gripping your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. “But I like the hunt.”

Your breath hitched as he pressed up against you under the water, already hard.

His lips found your shoulder. “You taste better than honey.”

You gasped. “Mingi-”

“Say it,” he rasped. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you love me.”

Your heart thudded.

“I-”

But then he was kissing you, deep and possessive. The kind of kiss that made your toes curl and your knees weak, even when they were already under water.

And when he lifted you slightly lined himself up and pushed in slowly, carefully, watching your face the entire time you broke.

“I love you,” you whispered. “I love you, Mingi.”

He groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You rocked together slowly, steam curling around you, water lapping softly at your bodies. It wasn’t frantic like before. It wasn’t messy or rushed. It was worship.

He held you like you were everything.

Because to him, you were.

⸻

After, you lay wrapped in a towel and his arms, the spring now quiet behind you.

He looked at you like he could finally breathe.

“I was scared,” he admitted. “That I’d lose everything if I had you. But now… I’m scared of losing you.”

You turned toward him, brushing your fingers through his damp hair.

“You’re not losing me,” you said. “You never even gave me a chance to run.”

[kpopkurves]

Desperation & Devotion

Theme: Smut, NSFW, Sub!San, Edging

Pairing: Choi San x Reader/ YN

⸻

The room is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the soft glow of the bedside lamp. San is sprawled on the mattress, his wrists bound to the headboard with silky red ties, his chest heaving with every labored breath. His dark eyes are glassy, desperation dripping from every part of him as he tugs against his restraints, muscles flexing under the warm light. A thin sheen of sweat clings to his flushed skin, his lips parted as he pants, completely at your mercy.

“Please, {Y/N},” he whimpers, his voice rough and needy. His body trembles as you drag your fingers down his torso, tracing every dip and ridge of his toned abdomen. His cock is painfully hard, twitching with every teasing touch, glistening with precum that dribbles from the flushed tip. His thighs tense as he tries to rut up, seeking any kind of friction, but you press a firm hand against his hip, keeping him in place.

“Ah-ah,” you murmur, your tone laced with amusement. “Be good, San.”

A strangled moan escapes his parted lips as you grip him at the base, giving him a slow, torturous stroke that makes his back arch off the bed. His breath comes in short gasps, his fingers curling into fists above him as he bites his lower lip, trying to hold himself together. You can see the way his muscles tense under your touch, every fiber of his being wound up so tight he looks like he might snap.

“You’ve been begging so prettily,” you hum, flicking your thumb over his sensitive slit, spreading the slickness across his aching length. “But I think you can beg even better.”

San lets out a broken whimper, his head lolling back against the pillows. His skin is burning under your touch, his entire body hypersensitive from the prolonged teasing. “I—I can’t,” he pants, his voice shaking. “I need you… please, I need to cum, I can’t take it anymore.”

You tilt your head, feigning consideration. “Mmm, I don’t know,” you tease, giving him another slow pump before pulling your hand away completely. San groans in frustration, his hips bucking up into nothing, desperate for your touch. The way his face contorts in need, his brows furrowed, his lips trembling—it’s a sight that sends a thrill straight to your core.

“Fuck, no,” he cries, his voice cracking. “Please, don’t stop—I’ll be good, I promise, just let me cum.” His desperation is intoxicating, his body completely at your mercy, squirming and shaking as he struggles against the pleasure you keep dangling just out of reach.

Smirking, you trail your lips down his torso, placing feather-light kisses along his overheated skin. You pause at his hips, your breath ghosting over his straining length, watching the way he shudders beneath you. “You look so pretty when you’re desperate, Sannie,” you murmur, licking a teasing stripe up the side of his cock. His entire body jolts, a wrecked sob falling from his lips as he shudders violently, his thighs trembling from the sheer overstimulation.

“Please,” he gasps, his voice raw and pleading. “Please, {Y/N}, I’ll do anything—just let me cum, I’m begging you.” His eyes, glazed over with lust and desperation, lock onto yours, pleading and vulnerable. You can feel the way his body trembles, right on the edge, aching for release.

Your lips curve into a satisfied smile as you finally wrap your fingers around him again, stroking him with purpose, faster this time. His breath hitches, his entire body tensing as he lets out a strangled moan.

“That’s it, baby,” you purr. “Cum for me.”

And with a sharp, broken cry, San finally unravels, his release spilling over your fingers as he shudders violently beneath you, his entire body wracked with pleasure so intense it leaves him boneless. His head falls back against the pillows, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to catch his breath, completely wrecked. His body twitches with the aftershocks, his thighs weak and trembling, his lips still parted as soft whimpers escape him.

You press a lingering kiss to his jaw, whispering against his flushed skin, “Good boy.” The way his breath hitches at your praise makes you grin, knowing you’re far from finished with him.

[kpopkurves]

Sin & Surrender

Theme: Smut, NSFW,

Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader/YN

The energy in the room was electric, the afterglow of ATEEZ’s latest comeback win still thrumming in Mingi’s veins. The celebration had been loud, full of cheers, toasts, and the kind of exhilaration that came from seeing months of grueling effort pay off. But now, the real celebration was about to begin.

He had waited all night, feeling the weight of his hunger for you press against his self-control. Every lingering touch, every stolen glance had fueled the fire in his gut. And now, finally, you were here, pressed against the cool walls of his hotel room, looking up at him with wide, wanting eyes.

"You’re so good for me, baby," Mingi murmured, his voice low and raspy as he dragged his hands down your sides, his fingers digging into the plush of your hips. "Always waiting so patiently. Always knowing who you belong to."

His praise sent a shiver down your spine, but it was quickly followed by the sharp sting of his teeth sinking into the soft skin of your shoulder. You gasped, the sensation a wicked blend of pain and pleasure. Mingi pulled back, his lips curling into a smirk as he traced the fresh mark with his tongue, soothing the bite.

"That’s one," he hummed, gripping your chin between his fingers, making you hold his gaze. "And I’m not done."

He didn't let you make it to the bed right away. No, that would be too easy. His hands were on you the moment the door shut, pressing you against the hard wood, his hips flush against yours as he devoured your mouth. His tongue was demanding, his hands rough as they slid under your clothes, pushing fabric aside as if it offended him. The first time he took you, it was against the wall, your legs wrapped tight around his waist as he drove into you with an intensity that left you breathless.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his lips dragging down your throat, leaving a trail of heat. "So tight—like you were made for me."

Your moans were music to his ears, spurring him on as he rocked into you, his grip unrelenting. His fingers dug into your skin, branding you in a way that went beyond the bruises he was leaving behind. When he finally let you come undone around him, your nails raking down his back as you screamed his name, he held you close, whispering praises into your ear.

But he wasn’t done.

He carried you to the bathroom next, setting you on the cool marble countertop, the mirror fogging from the heat of your bodies. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart as he knelt before you, his dark eyes locking onto yours with unrelenting intensity.

"So fucking pretty when you're wrecked for me," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your heated skin before his mouth descended, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs. He bit down, sucking deep bruises into the sensitive flesh, making sure you’d feel him long after tonight.

He took his time there, teasing, his tongue flicking and curling in sinful patterns, his fingers pressing deep as he worked you open. Your head fell back, a broken sob of pleasure spilling from your lips as he groaned against you, lost in the taste of you.

"You’re dripping for me, baby," he murmured against your slick skin, his tongue dragging up in a slow, torturous stroke. "So greedy. You want more? Say it."

"Mingi, please—" your voice was wrecked, needy, desperate.

He smirked, gripping your hips to keep you from squirming. "That’s my girl."

He pushed you past the edge with devastating precision, watching as your body trembled, the pleasure too intense to contain. His hands never stopped, keeping you open for him, making you take it even when you thought you couldn’t.

When he finally rose, his lips glistening, his expression was nothing short of ravenous. "Not done with you yet, baby," he whispered, turning you around to face the mirror, his chest pressing against your back. His hands gripped your hips, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he slid into you again, this time slow and deep, forcing you to watch the way he unraveled you.

"Look at yourself," he demanded, his voice thick with desire. "Look at how perfect you are for me. Taking me so well. Letting me ruin you."

Each thrust was brutal, claiming, his grip unrelenting as he bent you to his will. Your moans mixed with his, the wet sound of your bodies colliding filling the air. He pressed a hand to your throat, tilting your head back to whisper filth into your ear, his other hand sneaking between your thighs to push you over the edge once more.

By the time you finally reached the bed, your body was a masterpiece of his devotion—red marks, bruises, and the lingering burn of his touch everywhere he had claimed you. He hovered over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "One more time, baby. I need to see you fall apart for me again."

And he didn’t stop—not until your body was trembling, drenched in sweat, covered in love bites and bruises, each one a permanent reminder of this night. Of him. Of how completely and utterly you belonged to Song Mingi.

[kpopkurves]

A Love Like Ours

Theme: Fluff, Cuteness, Wholesome

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader/ Y/N

___

The first thing {Y/N} noticed upon waking was the smell of freshly brewed coffee drifting through the apartment. The second was the empty space beside them, the lingering warmth of Jongho’s body still imprinted on the sheets.

They groaned, burrowing into the comforter before realizing they couldn’t afford to waste time. Duty called—literally. As a nurse, {Y/N} had early shifts to get to, and judging by the soft humming from the kitchen, Jongho was already up, enjoying his slow morning before his schedules began.

Dragging themselves out of bed, {Y/N} shuffled toward the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. There he was, standing by the counter, stirring his coffee with his head slightly tilted as he scrolled through his phone. His dark hair was still a little messy, his oversized hoodie making him look even cozier than usual.

Without thinking, {Y/N} wrapped their arms around his waist from behind, pressing their cheek against his back. “Mmm… warm.”

Jongho chuckled, setting his phone down to rest his hand over theirs. “Morning to you too, sleepyhead.”

{Y/N} sighed dramatically. “I don’t wanna go to work. Let’s just stay here all day.”

“As much as I love that idea,” he said, turning around in their arms to face them, “I don’t think your patients or my manager would be too happy.”

{Y/N} pouted. “Why must the world be so cruel?”

Jongho laughed, shaking his head before gently tapping their nose. “Come on, I’ll make you breakfast while you get ready.”

— ✧ —

Even as {Y/N} got dressed, Jongho made sure they had everything they needed—a packed lunch, their favorite coffee in a to-go cup, and a lingering kiss on their forehead before they walked out the door.

“Text me when you get a break,” he said, holding the door open for them.

“Only if you text me first,” they teased.

Jongho smirked. “We both know I will.”

And he did.

The moment {Y/N} got a chance to check their phone between rounds, there was already a message waiting for them.

Jongho 🦁: How’s my favorite nurse doing?

{Y/N}: Tired already 😩

Jongho 🦁: Should’ve let me kidnap you and keep you in bed all day

{Y/N}: Wow, first thing in the morning and you’re already being clingy?

Jongho 🦁: You’re one to talk. Who was the one cuddling me like a koala this morning?

{Y/N}: Bold of you to assume I won’t do it again when I get home

Jongho 🦁: Not assuming. I’m hoping.

{Y/N} grinned at their phone, shaking their head. He always knew how to make their day a little brighter.

— ✧ —

Later that afternoon, as {Y/N} sat in the break room sipping on some tea, they remembered Jongho had a full day of schedules. Knowing how he and the rest of ATEEZ barely had time to eat, they decided to order them lunch.

After placing the order, they sent a quick message.

{Y/N}: Lunch is on me today. Don’t forget to eat, superstar.

Jongho replied almost immediately.

Jongho 🦁: Wait, you ordered us food?

{Y/N}: Of course. You’re busy, and I know how you get when you’re focused. Eat well, okay?

Jongho 🦁: You’re actually the best. Like, actually.

{Y/N}: I know 😌

Jongho 🦁: The guys are saying they love you. I’m starting to feel jealous.

{Y/N}: Tell them I accept their love but that you’re my favorite 😉

Jongho 🦁: Good answer. I’d fight them for you.

{Y/N}: Just eat your lunch, you big softie.

Jongho sent a picture of his food, a thumbs-up, and a caption: Eating like a king thanks to my queen.

Shaking their head at his antics, {Y/N} couldn’t help but feel warm inside. No matter how chaotic their schedules were, no matter how many hours passed, these little moments of sweetness made everything worth it.

Later That Night…

The moment {Y/N} stepped into the apartment after a long shift, exhaustion hit them like a wave. But before they could even sigh, warm arms wrapped around them, pulling them into a firm embrace.

Jongho rested his chin atop their head, rocking them gently from side to side. “Welcome home, my love.”

{Y/N} melted into his embrace, sighing. “I missed you.”

Jongho tightened his arms around them. “I missed you more.”

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, basking in the comfort of being home together.

“You tired?” he asked softly, brushing his lips against their temple.

“Completely.”

“Then let’s get you comfortable.” He led them to the couch, where he already had a fluffy blanket waiting. He helped them out of their work clothes, replacing them with one of his hoodies, which smelled like him. Once they were settled, he pulled them into his lap, letting them curl up against him.

“Better?” he murmured, running his fingers through their hair.

{Y/N} hummed in approval, pressing a kiss to his neck. “You take such good care of me.”

Jongho tilted their chin up, his eyes shining with warmth. “You take care of me too. Ordering food for me and the guys? You didn’t have to, but you did. You always think about me even when you’re busy.”

“Well, of course,” {Y/N} said sleepily. “You’re my person.”

Jongho cupped their cheek, his thumb stroking their skin gently. “And you’re mine.”

Then, with all the love in the world, he kissed them—slow, sweet, and deep.

And just like that, all the exhaustion melted away.

Because no matter how tiring their days were, as long as they had each other, they’d always be home.

[kpopkurves]

Love in Harmony

A Jeong Yunho x Idol!{Y/N}

Theme: Cute, Romance, Pining

SN: the lyrics are all original by me,

The recording studio was bathed in soft golden light, the only sounds in the room coming from the faint hum of the equipment and the quiet rustling of lyric sheets. But the loudest thing of all was the unspoken tension sitting between Jeong Yunho and {Y/N}.

They had always been close, some may say best friends, confidants, each other’s biggest cheerleaders. But somewhere along the way, amid the long nights in the practice room and the stolen moments backstage, the lines blurred.

They never spoke about it.

Never acknowledged the way their eyes lingered too long or the way their laughter came softer when it was just the two of them.

And now, standing side by side, singing a love song together, those feelings felt impossible to ignore.

—————-

Yunho adjusted his headphones, clearing his throat as he snuck a glance at {Y/N}. They were skimming the lyrics, their brows slightly furrowed in concentration.

Adorable.

He had seen that same expression countless times before, but it never failed to make his heart stutter.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

{Y/N} looked up, meeting his gaze. For a second, neither of them moved.

“Yeah,” they finally breathed, though their pulse betrayed them.

As the track began, the soft piano melody filling the studio, {Y/N} took a steadying breath and leaned into the mic.

[Verse 1 – {Y/N}]

When the stars align, I find you in the night

Every whisper in the wind, it calls your name

Even when the world fades into black and white

You’re the color in my heart, a burning flame

Yunho felt his breath catch in his throat.

He had heard them sing a hundred times before, but tonight, their voice carried something different, something delicate and longing, like the lyrics were meant for someone.

Meant for him?

No. He was reading too much into it.

…Right?

He swallowed, his fingers curling against the lyric sheet as he tried to shake the thought. But when {Y/N} glanced at him between lines, their eyes soft, almost searching, he felt his heart betray him all over again.

Then it was his turn.

[Verse 2 – Yunho]

No matter how far, I’ll always find my way

Through the echoes of time, I hear you call my name

Even in silence, you are my only sound

I’d chase forever just to turn around

{Y/N} felt everything shift.

Yunho’s voice had always been warm, steady, a voice that could melt away any fear or doubt. But now, as he sang, there was something so achingly tender about it that they had to grip their sleeve just to keep themselves grounded.

Oh no. Oh no.

Their chest tightened, a blush creeping up their neck as they tried to focus on the lyrics instead of the way his gaze flickered toward them, like he was singing to them.

Like this wasn’t just a song.

The producer signaled, it was time for the chorus.

They leaned into their mics, their voices about to blend in perfect harmony.

[Chorus – Both]

Oh, even if the world falls apart

I’ll hold you close inside my heart

Through every storm, through every fight

Love will lead us back to light

Their voices wrapped around each other like a confession neither of them was ready to make. Every note felt like a touch, every lyric a heartbeat.

And God, Yunho was looking at them again his gaze softer now, hesitant, but so, so full of something that it made their breath hitch.

When the song ended, a thick silence filled the space.

Yunho pulled his headphones down, rubbing the back of his neck as his ears burned pink.

“You, uh… you sounded amazing,” he murmured, his voice a little lower than before.

{Y/N} let out a soft laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear. “I could say the same to you.”

Yunho hesitated for a second before speaking again. “You really felt the lyrics.”

Something in his tone made {Y/N}’s stomach flip.

Their fingers curled into their sleeves as they tried to play it cool. “I mean… it’s a love song, right? Gotta make it convincing.”

Yunho smiled at that, but there was something unspoken in his eyes, something hovering at the edge of every stolen glance and every almost-confession they never voiced.

Yeah.

Convincing.

Then why did it feel so incredibly, undeniably real?

[kpopkurves]

A Story Of Us

Park Seonghwa x Reader

Theme- Cute, Romance, Fluff

⸻

It was a quiet evening in the city, the kind of night where everything felt suspended in time, and the world seemed to slow down. You sat on the balcony of your apartment, gazing at the stars that decorated the night sky like diamonds. The soft rustling of the leaves in the trees below and the distant hum of the city were the only sounds accompanying your thoughts.

You and Seonghwa had been together for over a year now, and each moment with him felt like a dream you never wanted to wake up from. His love was a constant source of warmth, like the sun breaking through the darkest clouds, and you couldn’t help but smile whenever you thought about how your story had started.

_______

It all began when you first met Seonghwa. He was everything you hadn’t expected, and yet everything you needed. The chemistry between the two of you was instant. It wasn’t love at first sight, not the kind people talk about in fairy tales, but it was something even more magical. It was a connection that formed without words, a feeling that settled deep in your chest like the softest melody. You couldn’t describe it, but you both felt it.

One evening, after one of his concerts, you found yourself standing backstage, watching Seonghwa laugh with the members of ATEEZ. His laughter was like a gentle breeze, calm and soothing, yet full of life. You had always admired him from afar, but tonight something felt different.

He noticed you standing there, watching him, and without missing a beat, he excused himself and walked toward you. There was no hesitation in his steps, only the quiet confidence that he was about to change the course of your night.

“Hey, you’ve been standing there for a while,” he said, his smile warm and inviting. “Are you lost?”

You shook your head, feeling a little nervous but at ease in his presence. “I’m not lost… I just didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Interrupt what?” he laughed, his voice low and smooth. “If anything, I’m the one interrupting your peace.”

And that was the start of something beautiful.

—————-

As time passed, the bond between you grew deeper. You spent hours together, wandering the streets of Seoul, enjoying simple moments, like sharing ice cream on a warm summer afternoon or getting caught in the rain, laughing as you ran for cover. Each moment with Seonghwa felt like it was straight out of a storybook, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine how real it could feel.

One evening, you sat together by the Han River, the city lights twinkling in the distance, and he took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing over your skin. The moment was perfect, and the melody of a song playing from his phone seemed to echo the feelings in your heart.

“Je te promets, je t’écrirai des poèmes” (I promise you, I will write you poems)

He looked at you, eyes filled with sincerity and love. You could see the emotion in his gaze, the depth of what he felt for you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice steady yet full of emotion. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re my story, my beginning and end. You make everything feel right.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart racing as the words left his lips. It was the moment you had both been waiting for, a moment that felt like it had been written in the stars.

——————-

The days that followed were filled with laughter and stolen kisses. You would stay up late talking about everything and nothing, sharing your dreams, your fears, and your hopes for the future. Seonghwa was your best friend, your confidant, and your greatest love. The world outside could be chaotic, but in his arms, you felt like you had everything you needed.

One day, as you sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, Seonghwa took your hand and gently pulled you closer. The music from his playlist filled the room, the familiar sound of Indila’s Love Story beginning to play.

“C’était écrit, c’était écrit, notre histoire” (It was written, it was written, our story)

Seonghwa gazed at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You know,” he began, “I’ve always believed in fate. I think our love was written in the stars, just like this song.”

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “You really believe that?”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yes, because the moment I met you, everything clicked. You’re my story, Y/N. And I can’t imagine writing it without you.”

The world outside faded away as you leaned in and kissed him, the kiss tender and filled with promises of forever.

You both knew that no matter what came your way, you would face it together. Your love was built on understanding, laughter, and quiet moments like these moments that spoke louder than words.

And as the song continued to play, you couldn’t help but agree with the lyrics, “C’était écrit, notre histoire.” (It was written, our story.)

—————-

Epilogue

Years later, you stood side by side, bundled up in cozy coats as the soft, cold winter air kissed your cheeks. Flurries of light snow fell gently around you, dotting your hair and shoulders like little crystals. The city was quiet, its usual noise muffled by the thick blanket of snow that had covered everything. You gazed up at Seonghwa, whose breath misted in the cool air, his eyes sparkling with a love that still felt as fresh as the first snow of the season.

Seonghwa smiled, his eyes full of affection as he squeezed your hand, the warmth of his touch in contrast to the crisp winter chill. You stood on the balcony of your apartment, wrapped in each other’s presence.

“Y/N,” Seonghwa began, his voice playful but tender, “You know, I think we need to settle this once and for all.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparkling in your eyes. “Settle what?”

A mischievous grin tugged at his lips. “A snowball fight.” He casually picked up a snowball, rolling it in his hand with a smirk. “Prepare yourself.”

Before you could even react, he threw the snowball at you, hitting your arm with a soft thud. You gasped in mock surprise, immediately scooping up some snow and throwing it back at him.

“Oh, it’s on,” you laughed, your heart racing as you and Seonghwa playfully tossed snowballs at each other. The snowflakes swirling around you only added to the magic of the moment, everything about it felt so… right.

The two of you laughed as Seonghwa dodged another snowball, only for his foot to slip on the icy ground, causing him to tumble toward you. You both collapsed in a heap of snow, giggling uncontrollably as he playfully tried to pin you down.

“I’ve got you now,” Seonghwa chuckled, his face inches from yours.

“You wish,” you teased, before he suddenly stopped, the playful grin slowly fading into something softer. He gazed at you with such warmth, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the streetlights and the snowflakes that danced around you both.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice suddenly serious yet tender, “You’re the love of my life. I can’t imagine a future without you by my side. I want to make sure that every single moment we have, no matter how small, is as special as this one.” He took your hand, pulling out a small velvet box from his coat pocket.

The box opened, revealing a delicate ring that shimmered like the snowflakes around you. Your breath caught in your throat as he spoke again, his voice shaky with emotion.

“Will you marry me? Will you be my forever?”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, your heart overflowing with love. You nodded without hesitation, your voice barely above a whisper, “Yes, Seonghwa. A thousand times, yes.”

He slid the ring onto your finger, his hands trembling as he did, before pulling you into a gentle kiss. The cold winter air surrounded you, but in his arms, you were warm. Every snowflake that landed on your skin felt like a blessing.

As you pulled away, Seonghwa smiled, his forehead resting against yours. “Our love was written in the stars, Y/N. And now, our story will never end.”

You smiled, your heart soaring as you hugged him tightly. The world seemed to stop, the snow falling gently around you both as if nature itself was celebrating this new chapter in your love story.

And as you kissed him again, with the snow falling softly around you, you knew, this was only the beginning.

[kpopkurves]

Say You’ll Stay, Even If You Can’t.

Kang YeoSang x Reader

Themes- Angst, Hurt

—

The rain was merciless, hitting the pavement in sheets as if the sky itself was grieving. You stood there, soaked to the bone, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you stared at Yeosang, his face unreadable under the flickering glow of the streetlamp.

“Say something…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm.

His jaw tensed. His eyes, those eyes that once looked at you like you were his whole world avoided yours.

“There’s nothing left to say, {Y/N}.”

A sob clawed its way up your throat, but you swallowed it, refusing to break in front of him. “Nothing left to say?” You let out a bitter laugh, tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. “After everything, Yeosang? After all the nights we stayed up dreaming of a future, our future?”

He finally looked at you then, and it was like the air was ripped from your lungs. His eyes were rimmed red, wet, but filled with that horrible finality that made your heart splinter.

“You don’t understand-”

“Then make me understand!” you cried, taking a step closer. “Please. Please, please don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”

Yeosang ran a shaky hand through his drenched hair, the weight of his own emotions pressing down on him. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, {Y/N}.” His voice cracked, and you felt your knees weaken.

“Then stay. If you don’t want to hurt me, just stay. We can fix this whatever this is, we can fix it. I can’t” your voice broke, “I can’t lose you.”

“You don’t get it,” he said, almost a whisper, “I’m already ruining you. Every time I look at you, I see how much you’re breaking because of me. I thought I could protect you, but all I’ve done is cause you pain.”

“No, no” you reached for him, but he stepped back. Like your touch burned.

“I love you,” he said so softly it was almost a breath, “but I can’t be the reason you cry yourself to sleep anymore.”

Your heart shattered. “Yeosang, please, please don’t do this,” you begged, the desperation in your voice echoing in the empty street. “Please, please don’t let me love you if you’re just going to leave. If you’re going to break me….. please don’t do this to me.”

His hands clenched into fists, as if fighting himself, fighting every instinct to pull you into his arms and never let go. “I want to be the one you deserve… but I’m not. I’m not him.”

“You are!” You sobbed, stepping closer again. “You are everything I want!”

He shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks now, invisible in the rain but so painfully obvious in his trembling voice. “I can’t be. Not if it means watching you hurt because of me.”

“Please,” you whispered one last time, reaching out with a trembling hand, voice raw and broken, “Please, please, please…”

But Yeosang , your Yeosang turned away, walking into the night as though each step didn’t rip both your hearts apart.

And as you crumpled to the ground, hands covering your face, the storm screamed with you, the only witness to your breaking heart.

[kpopkurves]

Where The Lights Fade

Choi San x Reader

Theme- Angst(?), Hurt Comfort,

Requests are Opened!

—

The city lights flickered like dying stars, and you stood there arms wrapped around yourself, shivering more from the weight in your chest than from the cold. You swore you wouldn’t call him again. You swore this was the last time you’d let him make you feel like this.

But when your phone lit up with his name, you answered anyway.

“Hey… I’m sorry,” San’s voice came through, rough and tired. “Something came up. I can’t make it tonight.”

Your heart cracked in that same old way it had been for months now.

“Of course you can’t,” you whispered, biting the inside of your cheek to hold back the tears. “It’s fine, San.”

“Baby, don’t say it like that. You know I’d be there if I could”

“Would you?” you cut him off, voice trembling. “Because lately, it feels like I’m always here… waiting for you to show up.”

Silence. Heavy, suffocating silence.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, and you could hear it the breaking in his voice. “I’m trying.”

“Maybe love isn’t enough if we can’t even live it,” you whispered.

And before he could answer, you hung up, letting the tears spill freely this time.

———————

Months passed. Months of you throwing yourself into your art, chasing every opportunity like you were running from the memories of him. You told yourself you were over it over him.

Until that night.

Until you opened Twitter, expecting to see trending memes or a new ATEEZ comeback, but instead, it was his name.

“Choi San’s Health Scare Shocks Fans: Idol Quietly Battling Chronic Illness.”

Your hands went numb. The phone slipped from your fingers, clattering against the floor as your heart dropped to your stomach.

“No… no, no, no.”

You hadn’t known. You hadn’t known.

All those nights he left you waiting, all the times he pushed you away it wasn’t because he didn’t love you. It was because he was hurting, alone, thinking he was protecting you.

——————

You didn’t even remember how you got to the hospital. You burst into his room, chest heaving, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The hospital room smelled like clean linen and something sterile but you barely noticed that. All you could see was San, lying in that bed, looking so much smaller than the version of him you remembered.

It had taken everything in you not to fall apart when you first walked in, but now, sitting by his side, holding his hand in both of yours, you couldn’t stop staring.

“You lost weight,” you whispered, trying to joke, but your voice cracked at the edges.

San smiled weakly, squeezing your hand.

“You’re still beautiful,” he whispered back, and that made the tears you’d been holding in finally spill over.

“Stop,” you said shakily, laughing through the tears. “You’re supposed to let me be mad at you.”

“I know,” he chuckled softly. “But I missed you too much to let you yell at me.”

Your thumb traced soft circles on the back of his hand as you looked at him, memorizing every feature like you were terrified to forget.

“Why didn’t you tell me, San?”

He looked down, ashamed.

“Because I couldn’t stand the thought of you giving up everything you were working for… because of me,” he murmured. “You were finally getting recognized. I didn’t want to be the reason you stopped flying.”

“You idiot,” you whispered, voice thick with tears. “I would’ve given it all up. I would’ve given you everything.”

San’s eyes glistened as he looked back at you.

“I know, baby,” he said softly. “That’s why I couldn’t let you.”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his.

“You didn’t have to protect me from loving you.”

“I was trying to protect you from hurting like this.”

“Too late,” you breathed out, your lips brushing his.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes closing as if he couldn’t bear to see your pain.

“Don’t be. Just… let me stay. Please.”

“Okay,” he breathed, and for the first time in months, you both just existed in each other’s arms, like no time had passed.

—————

The Soft Days

The next few days were quiet but beautiful in their own way. You brought your sketchbook and paints, sitting by his bed as he watched you work.

“Paint me,” he said one afternoon, grinning tiredly.

“You’re already in every one of my paintings,” you smiled, dipping your brush into color.

“Paint me now, though. Like this,” he insisted.

So you did. You painted him as he was fragile but still so beautiful. You made sure to capture the softness in his gaze when he looked at you.

Sometimes he’d fall asleep while you painted, his hand still holding yours like he was afraid to let go. You’d watch his chest rise and fall, praying that it always would.

At night, when the nurses dimmed the lights, you’d crawl into the narrow bed beside him, careful not to hurt him. He’d wrap his arms around you, his body weaker but his embrace still so warm, and you’d lay like that for hours.

“I missed holding you like this,” he’d whisper against your hair.

“Then hold me forever,” you’d reply, pretending you didn’t know forever was slipping away.

—————-

The Final Sunrise

The night before you were set to leave for your international gallery debut the dream you’d both talked about for years San asked you to wake him up early.

“I want to watch the sunrise with you. One last time,” he said softly.

You almost told him not to say “last,” but the lump in your throat was too big to speak around.

So as dawn broke, casting soft gold through the hospital window, you sat with him on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a blanket. His head rested on your shoulder, and you leaned your head on his.

“You always loved sunrises,” you whispered, blinking back tears.

“Because you love them,” he murmured, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You promised we’d see a thousand more,” you whispered.

“Maybe… in another life,” he said softly.

The light warmed his pale skin, and for a moment, he looked just like he used to radiant, full of life.

“If we were stars,” he murmured, “maybe we’d burn at the same time in another sky.”

You turned to him, tears falling freely now, and kissed him as the sun rose higher, burning the sky in shades of pink and gold.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I love you more,” he replied, voice soft but sure.

“You better wait for me in that sky,” you said, smiling through your tears.

“Always,” he promised.

—————-

The Painting Reveal

Months later, you stood in a massive gallery filled with strangers, but all you could think about was him.

Your art lined every wall, but one painting stood alone, bathed in soft, focused light.

It was him, sitting in that hospital bed, sunlight pouring over him, eyes closed as if he were dreaming of a better world.

The press and art critics whispered about the piece, but you blocked them out, your heart pounding in your chest.

A small plaque beneath it read:

“Where the Light Fades.”

For the boy who taught me how to love in silence.

As you stood there, staring up at the boy you’d loved and lost, you felt a soft breeze swirl around you — gentle, familiar.

You closed your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips, as if he were standing there beside you, whispering:

“I’m here.”

And as the room around you faded into a blur, you whispered back:

“I see you, Sannie. Always.”

[kpopkurves]

Bleeding Out for You

You weren’t supposed to be here.

At least, that’s what Hongjoong would say if he saw you standing in the doorway, watching him fall apart. But you couldn’t stay away not when you knew he was on the edge of losing himself.

The room reeked of burnt wood and something metallic blood, you realized. The faint glow of a swinging lamp illuminated the chaos: broken glass, splintered furniture, and Hongjoong standing at the center of it all, chest heaving, his bandaged eye glaring into nothing. His hand was soaked in crimson, dripping like a slow, painful clock ticking away his sanity.

You stepped in, swallowing down your fear, “Hongjoong…”

He froze at the sound of your voice, his back tensing, jaw clenching.

“I told you not to come here,” he said lowly, dangerous and sharp, as if every word cost him.

“I had to.” You took a step closer. “I can’t just sit back and watch you destroy yourself.”

He turned slowly, and when his good eye met yours, something in your chest twisted. He looked… ruined. His usual confidence had melted into raw fury and torment.

“I’m not the man you think I am, Y/N.” His voice was rough, almost a growl. “I’m not someone you can save.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me,” you shot back, though your heart was pounding against your ribs.

His eyes darkened, a smirk twisting his lips but without warmth. “You really don’t know what I’ve done, do you?”

“Then tell me,” you challenged, moving until you were only a breath away from him. “Tell me everything, Joong. Let me be the one who stays.”

His hand shot out suddenly, grabbing your wrist with just enough force to make you flinch. But behind the act, you saw the desperation the way his fingers trembled against your skin.

“I’ve hurt people,” he whispered, leaning close until his forehead almost touched yours. “I’ve done things for power, for revenge. Things that would make you run if you knew.”

Your heart ached as you reached up with your free hand, cupping his cheek fingers brushing the edges of the bandage covering his eye. “But you didn’t hurt me.”

He let out a breathless laugh, but it was bitter. “Not yet.”

“Then don’t,” you whispered, voice soft but unwavering. “Let me be here. Let me help you before you fall so far you can’t come back.”

The mask he wore shattered then, eyes glossing over, his hold on your wrist loosening as he leaned into your touch.

“Why do you love me?” His voice was hoarse, broken. “When all I do is ruin everything I touch?”

You let your hand slide to his neck, feeling the rapid pulse under his skin. “Because I see the man underneath it all the one who fights so hard he’s bleeding for it.”

His breath caught, and for a moment, vulnerability flickered across his face.

“Stay, then,” he finally whispered, voice raw. “But if you stay, Y/N… there’s no going back.”

“I’m not leaving you, Joong.”

That was all it took.

He surged forward, crashing his lips to yours in a kiss that was rough and desperate tasting of pain and longing. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if he was afraid you’d vanish.

Your fingers slid under his jacket, feeling the scars and tension that ran deeper than skin. And when he pulled away, just enough to press his forehead to yours, his breathing ragged, you knew you’d never seen him like this before.

“You’ll be mine,” he murmured darkly, voice laced with dangerous devotion. “No one else will ever touch you, Y/N. I’ll burn the world before I let them take you from me.”

His words should’ve scared you. But instead, they wrapped around you like a promise as dark as it was beautiful.

“And you’ll be mine,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Even if I have to fight the darkness in you myself.”

A twisted smile curved his lips, but this time, there was a spark of something softer beneath.

“Then we’ll burn together,” he said, and when he kissed you again, it was slow, claiming, and full of all the things he couldn’t say.

Because in the end, you weren’t afraid of his darkness.

You were willing to drown in it as long as it was with him.

———————-

[kpopkurves]

BTS React To You Calling Him ‘Husband’

———————-

RM (Namjoon) — The Flustered but Smooth Friend

You’re filming a “Book Recommendations” vlog and casually say,

“So, I’m here with my husband, Namjoon, to help me pick some books.”

Namjoon blinks, looks at you sideways like, “Husband?!” and lets out a soft chuckle.

“Since when did I get promoted from friend to husband? Should I be worried or honored?”

You smirk, “Depends… do you wanna be worried or honored?”

He laughs but runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered.

“Guess I’ll take honored… but you better be careful throwing that word around. People might start believing it… and maybe I wouldn’t mind if they did.”

The way he glances at you over his glasses? Yeah, you’re both blushing by the end of the video.

———————-

Jin — The Dramatic Flirt with a Hint of Realness

Filming a “Cooking Challenge,” you say,

“Today, my husband Jin is gonna teach me how to cook something edible.”

Jin gasps, holding a spoon to his chest like he’s been shot.

“Husband?! You’ve been keeping secrets from me? Shouldn’t I be the first to know?!”

You laugh, “Well, you’re finding out now, so congrats?”

He grins and leans in close: “If I’m your husband, then I’m expecting wifey privileges. Like… first taste of whatever you make. And maybe a kiss as a reward if it’s good?”

You blink, laughing nervously, but Jin just smiles like he’s dead serious.

“What? Friends can joke… right?” he teases, but there’s a look in his eyes like he wants to know if you actually mean it.

—————————

Suga (Yoongi) — Chill but Secretly Flustered

Recording a late-night “Lo-fi Vibes” playlist video and you say,

“Hanging out with my husband Yoongi tonight.”

Yoongi side-eyes you, unimpressed but smirking: “Husband? Really? That what we’re doing now?”

You smirk back, “What? Don’t like the sound of it?”

He shrugs, “Didn’t say that. Just caught me off guard.”

He leans back in his chair, glancing at you from under his lashes.

“If I’m your husband, you’re gonna have to start treating me better. Like, where’s my coffee? Where’s my cuddles?”

You snort, “You want cuddles now?”

“If I’m husband status, yeah. That’s the rule, right?” he says with a half-smile and now it’s awkward and cute because neither of you knows if you’re still joking.

———————

J-Hope (Hobi) — Loud, Flirty, and Lowkey Testing the Waters

Filming a “Dance Challenge” when you say,

“Here with my husband, Hobi. Let’s see if he can keep up with me.”

He FREEZES, wide-eyed. “Husband?! YAH! Since when?!”

You laugh, “I mean… you wanna be?”

He laughs loud but you see that moment of “wait, what if?” cross his face.

“If I’m your husband, you’re definitely in trouble because I’m winning every argument including this dance battle.”

Then he steps closer, smirking: “But you know… I could get used to you calling me that.”

And suddenly, you’re blushing too much to keep dancing properly.

——————-

Jimin — Sweet Flirt, but Playfully Teasing You

Recording a “Couple Yoga Challenge” (as friends, of course), you say,

“I brought my husband Jimin to help me out today.”

Jimin’s whole face lights up, giggling,

“Ohhhh, husband? I didn’t know we skipped the whole dating part. Bold of you!”

You grin, “Well, I figured we’re close enough.”

He leans in way too close, smirking: “Yeah? You wanna make it official or just for the video?”

You pause, speechless, and he laughs again,

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you think about it. But now that you’ve said it, don’t be surprised if I start calling you wifey.”

The rest of the video, he keeps calling you “wife” just to make you blush.

——————

V (Taehyung) — Playful but Lowkey Serious

Doing a “Fashion Haul” video, you say,

“So, I’m here with my husband, Taehyung, to rate these outfits.”

Taehyung tilts his head, smiling like he’s plotting something:

“Husband? Hmm… I didn’t know we were telling people our secret.”

You laugh, “Secret? Since when?”

He steps closer, pretending to whisper but making sure the mic catches it: “Since I decided I don’t wanna be just friends anymore.”

You stare at him, shocked, and he grins: “Kidding. Or not. Depends on you.”

Cue you both laughing but secretly thinking about it way too hard.

—————

Jungkook — Shy Bunny Who Flirts Back

Filming a “Gamer Night” vlog and you casually say,

“Playing with my husband, Jungkook.”

Jungkook IMMEDIATELY chokes on his drink.

“H-Husband?!” He hides his face in his hoodie, laughing hard.

“When did that happen?!”

You smirk, “Right now. You objecting?”

He peeks out from his hoodie, smiling shyly: “No… I mean… depends. Are you serious?”

You’re caught off guard now. “I mean… I could be.”

He bites his lip, glancing at you: “Say it again. I wanna hear it one more time.”

When you say it again, he just grins to himself and shakes his head, “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

—————

[kpopkurves]

Déjà Vu

The night pressed against the windows, the city outside buzzing with a distant hum, but inside your apartment, everything felt still. Too still. The only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock and the soft shuffle of pages as you mindlessly flipped through a book you weren’t even reading.

You had been trying to distract yourself all evening, but it wasn’t working. Not when your thoughts kept drifting back to him.

Then~

A knock. Slow. Deliberate.

Your pulse stuttered. You already knew who it was.

For a moment, you hesitated. You could pretend not to be home, ignore the way your heart betrayed you with its erratic rhythm, pretend that his presence didn’t send a shiver down your spine. But the choice was never really yours, was it?

With a deep breath, you opened the door.

Wooyoung stood there, bathed in the dim glow of the city lights. He looked dangerous not in the way of threats or violence, but in the way he unraveled you with just a look.

Dressed in all black, his blazer hung open over a fitted shirt, and silver chains glinted against his collarbone. His earrings caught the faint light, swaying slightly as he tilted his head, eyes scanning you like he was trying to memorize every detail.

“Hey, stranger,” he murmured, voice smooth, deep, and edged with something unreadable.

Your throat felt dry. “You shouldn’t be here.”

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, but there was no amusement in his eyes. “Since when do we care about ‘should’?”

He stepped inside before you could say anything else, brushing past you like he belonged there. Maybe he did.

The scent of his cologne deep musk, a hint of spice, something undeniably him wrapped around you, pulling you under like a tide. You swallowed hard, shutting the door behind him even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You turned to see him leaning against the bookshelf, arms crossed, watching you with the kind of intensity that made it impossible to breathe.

“I’ve been busy,” you lied, trying to sound unaffected.

Wooyoung chuckled, shaking his head as if you were amusing. “Liar.”

The air between you was charged, thick with something unspoken something you both refused to name. A song played faintly from your speaker, a familiar melody you hadn’t realized was on.

Then, his voice cut through the quiet.

“I know you get déjà vu.”

Your stomach twisted.

He wasn’t just talking about the song.

You did. You did get déjà vu every time he showed up like this. Every time he stood too close, his presence setting your skin on fire. Every time you swore you were done with him, only for him to pull you right back in.

You exhaled slowly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “What do you want, Wooyoung?”

His expression softened, just a little. “You.”

Your breath hitched.

It would be so easy to close this space between you. To reach out and tangle your fingers in his hair, to press your lips against his and lose yourself in the feeling you swore you wouldn’t give into again.

He must have sensed your hesitation because he took a step forward, his voice quieter now. “Tell me to leave, and I will.”

Your fingers curled at your sides. The right thing to do was to tell him to walk away. To break the cycle.

But the right thing had never felt as good as this.

So instead, in a voice barely above a whisper, you said, “Stay.”

Wooyoung’s smirk faded, replaced by something raw. Something real.

And as he closed the space between you, fingers brushing against yours like a silent question, you knew

This wasn’t just déjà vu.

It was inevitable.

[kpopkurves]

Set The Scene

The rain poured, drenching you both in its artificial downpour, but neither of you moved. Neither of you looked away.

Zahra Carter stood frozen, her chest rising and falling as she stared up at Joonwoo, her full lips parted as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

Joonwoo’s eyes bore into hers, unreadable yet filled with something that made her pulse quicken. His hands twitched at his sides, like he was holding himself back from doing something reckless.

“I’m not running,” Zahra said, voice barely above a whisper.

Joonwoo shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “Then stop acting like you don’t feel it.” His voice was rough, desperate. “Stop pretending you don’t want this as much as I do.”

Imani swallowed, her jaw tightening as she forced herself to stay firm. “It doesn’t matter.”

But Joonwoo stepped even closer, so close she could feel the heat radiating off him despite the cold rain.

“It does to me,” he murmured.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t in the script.

But the moment his lips met hers, the world outside of them disappeared.

Imani stiffened for half a second before melting against him, her hands gripping the soaked fabric of his shirt as his fingers curled around the back of her neck. The kiss was desperate, unspoken words spilling into the way he moved against her, like he had been holding himself back for far too long.

A sharp inhale echoed across the set, and then~

“CUT!”

The director’s voice was almost drowned out by the collective gasps from the crew. The moment shattered, and {Y/N} pulled back, breathless, blinking up at Mingi in shock.

His eyes were locked on you, searching, waiting.

{Y/N} barely registered the murmurs around you crew members whispering, the director calling for a break because all you could focus on was the way Mingi was still looking at you.

Then, before you could react, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you off set, away from the curious stares.

“Mingi, what the hell was that?” you hissed once you were out of earshot, your heart still hammering.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I justm I couldn’t stop myself.” His eyes met yours, softer now, vulnerable. “Tell me I was wrong. Tell me you didn’t feel it too.”

Your throat went dry.

You should’ve been mad. You should’ve called him out for going off script. But instead, all you could think about was the way his lips had felt against yours.

The silence stretched between you, thick with all the things neither of you had said.

Mingi let out a quiet chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “I knew it.” He rubbed the back of his neck before looking at you again, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips. “Let’s get dinner sometime.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“Dinner,” he repeated, his gaze never leaving yours. “Just us. No cameras, no scripts. Just you and me.”

You should’ve said no.

But you didn’t want to.

“…Okay,” you whispered.

Mingi’s smile widened, relief washing over his features. “Good.” He stepped back, still grinning. “Now, let’s go finish that scene before the director kills me.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but as you followed him back to set, one thought echoed in your mind.

This wasn’t just acting anymore.

Reactions and Scenario requests are back open! I’m writing for many different fandoms!

[whitepeopletwitter]

[number-1-deaf-clint-barton-stan]

it’s been two years, but i think that an icon like her deserves to be known about by more people.

her name was freddie oversteegen and she, at the age of fourteen, along with her older sister truus who was 16 and their friend johanna “hannie” schaft who was 19, was a part of the netherlands most famous all female resistance cell which was dedicated to fighting the nazis and dutch traitors.

among other things, they are known to have blown up bridges and railroads, smuggled jewish children from concentration camps and, as the tweet mentions, seducing nazis and then shooting them with guns that they had hidden in their bike baskets. freddie is quoted as having said that they “had to do it.” and that it was a “necessary evil, killing those who betrayed good people.”

though freddie and her sister truus were both lucky and survived the war, hannie schaft wasn’t. at the age of 24, hannie was caught and around three weeks later was executed by nazis, only 18 days before the netherlands were eventually liberated. she was shot with one only wounding her, and, before the final shot, hannie is quoted as having told the executioners: ik schiet beter, which translates to “i shoot better.”

though she didn’t survive, hannie is recognized as a national icon and a face of the dutch resistance, with her story even being retold in a movie from 1981 called “the girl with the red hair.” along with this, truus also founded the national hannie schaft foundation in 1992, on which freddie served as a board member.

freddie, at the time of her death, was 92 years old and the last surviving member of the resistance cell, with truus having died two years earlier at the age of 92.

though these women and all that they did played an important part in the dutch resistance, they are often overlooked in history outside of the netherlands. it’s important that they are remembered and that their work to save people isn’t forgotten. it’s incredible what they did, especially given how young they were, and they deserve more recognition than what they’ve gotten.

[lameness-with-a-hint-of-sarcasm]

“I shoot better” Holy shit an icon

[randxmthxughts]

thinking about

[azaleaniath]

Ok but him???? He can ruin me 🤭