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MASTERLIST | BLACK READER FICS
Loving you's a sweet, sweet symphony. That all of heaven and earth join to sing. My heart trembles at the sound. - Joy Oladokun
REQUESTED ATEEZ S/O YOUTUBE LIVE STREAMER
7 Summers | BADA LEE X BLK FEM READER
summary: you remember when you Bada fell in love 7 summers ago.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, I think I'm writing fanfics once a month now? Okay maybe not. But this lovely story is based on my favorite country song, 7 summers by Morgan Wallen. Lyrics are worked into the fic.
You remember the summer of 2018, how the air felt different in South Carolina—thick with the smell of crawdads boiling, sunscreen warming on skin, beer fizzing over bottle lips, weed curling into the night. And love, lingering in the heat.
That summer, you fell in love. Slow. Then fast. Then it stopped—like someone pressed pause.
You remember her in the backseat of the Jeep when you climbed in—a soft smile, an even softer face. You remember how the sun traced the outline of her jaw, and the thick salt breeze whipping her hair into her face.
“Bada.” she said with her hand out.
“Y-Y/n” You shake her hand. You both had stared at each other, hands still together.
There was that quiet moment that pressed down on you both for a few seconds. The kind of moment where you could see a life with her—like eating Domino’s pizza in your shabby little apartment on late Saturday nights, the static of the radio playing some Lana Del Rey song that made you realize you were actually gay. And then it’s her warm sweet laughter that felt like home, almost close to forever, but never quite.
You remember the song that played in the Jeep that summer—'I Like It' by Cardi B, Bad Bunny, and J Balvin. You remember Bada leaning toward you, her shoulder softly pressed into yours. She told you something—something about wanting to get in further south, where summers lasted all year ‘round—something about wanting to really live, wanting a break from life to finally breathe.
You had said something but couldn’t really remember what, over the loud music that sank into your chest, then your bones—maybe it had been something like “Me too,” or “I get it, though.”
You wonder where she is now—If she actually went further South like she wanted to. You wonder if she got a big ring on her hand right now. Maybe a baby or couple by now.
But when summer always comes around, you find yourself wondering if she's drinking, thinking about you—the girl from Jacksonville, Florida.
You knew better. You both knew better, but you two said forever in the warm ocean waters beneath the burning South Carolina sun.
And that was seven summers of Coke and Southern comfort.
You and Bada were dumb or just younger? Who knows.
Back then, Bada loved the river—just lazily floating on the calm waters, skin tanned, cheeks a little sunburned. You remember drinking a sixer with her to cool down, floating next to her, sunglasses on, staring up at the endless blue sky. Back then, love came easy; it wasn’t as gritty as the kind of love you were used to getting. Bada reminded you of something—something like your favorite song on the radio, turned all the way up, feeling the lyrics in your soul while barefoot dancing across in kitchen at 3 am.
And sometimes, when you're alone and thinking of her, you wonder if it ever makes her sad—knowing that was seven summers ago.
Final Note: I may do a part 2 where Y/n and Bada meet again. Still deciding. 😭
Reblogged
MASTERLIST | BLACK READER FICS
Loving you's a sweet, sweet symphony. That all of heaven and earth join to sing. My heart trembles at the sound. - Joy Oladokun
REQUESTED ATEEZ S/O YOUTUBE LIVE STREAMER
Gave my MASTERLIST a new theme after my favorite song sweet symphony.
Reblogged
HAPPY EVER AFTER YOU | non! idol Namjoon x Black! fem reader.
Summary: relationships don't end happily ever after.
Themes: Regret and lost love.
Author's Note: finally getting back into writing fics. This story switches between Namjoon and Y/n's Pov given little glimpses into their heads. This story is based on the song HAPPY EVER AFTER YOU by MacKenzie Porter & Jake Etheridge. The lyrics are worked into the fiction.
NAMJOON
He stared at the old box of Black Paul Malls cigarettes. When he dated you, he stopped smoking because you hated the nicotine smell, and you wouldn’t stop reminding him of the early death he’d follow if he kept smoking. Namjoon could finally smoke them now since you're gone—no more shit from you about them.
Now you're on his mind like his favorite song, and he’s got half a mind to call you up tonight. Your number is still saved in his phone, with the same contact photo he took himself of you smiling when he first told you, "I love you." And your contact name brings "Peony," like the flower. Namjoon had always compared your beauty to flowers.
There’s a little more room in Namjoon’s chest now that he's no longer carrying you with him.
Then there's the fist-size mark in his bedroom wall. He doesn't like thinking about that night, when things got too heated, too true, too ugly for both of you.
There’s the tattoo he got of your name on his wrist. It felt like a landline still connected to you somehow. Namjoon remembered how you'd kiss the tattoo—your lips pressing to his wrist, feeling his warmth and light pulse. The way you'd linger with your lips against his skin, as if saying, "This’ll be the last time." And it was.
Now, Namjoon has half a mind to probably cover up that old tattoo.
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
Y/N
You got a hole in your chest the size of Texas. You always blamed Namjoon for everything—it was just easier that way. No accountability on your part, so you wanted to blame him for that massive black hole that sucked all your happiness into it.
On your wall still hung a picture of you and Namjoon. Tennessee, 2023. You weren’t sure why you kept it. Why you hadn’t torn it from your wall and ripped it into tiny little pieces like you both were—little pieces of nothingness.
You were a story you told yourself until your face was in the blue.
It hurts.
You got a new blue Chevy in your front yard under the dogwood where you and Namjoon’s names were carved. You'd sometimes run your fingers over it. And your pride's parked in the same spot, said it’ll be there till you move it.
You both got words you said still ringing out. And somewhere under the dead body of your relationship, love pooled underneath like blood. It’s too late to say I love you now.
There are the memories you and Namjoon both had, walking around your homes like ghosts. They never turn you both loose.
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
My request are open to BTS x Blk fem reader and Blk Male reader fics. I don't take smut requests sorry.
I was so happy with this piece and it flopped 🥴
CARDIGAN | RIIZE WONBIN X BLACK FEM READER
summary: you're just his old cardigan.
Author's Note: I wrote this last year and it's been sitting in my draft FOREVER because I didn't think it was good enough and I hated it so much, but after rereading it I fell in love with this little piece of writing.
As he departed in late August, an overwhelming sense of impending doom enveloped you that day. The months of June to August now felt like a wisp of ethereal recollections, fading away into the recesses of your mind. During that time, you existed in a vibrant realm, where love pulsated in every breath you took, where every heartbeat echoed in its presence.
"What is love to you?" You asked as you both walked along the seawall.
With your arms spread wide, you balanced on the concrete beam wall. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. The tides below softly ebb and flow. Wonbin would closely observe your every move with caution.
"I don't know." He shrugged, The fabric of his shirt slipped off his shoulder, revealing a glimpse of his sun-kissed skin.
And you remember thinking how you wanted to kiss him where the sun had kissed him.
I don't know. Little lies were buried in his words you couldn't see then. He did know, but love had hurt him and love had marred him, turning him into a boy who couldn't believe you thought he was good enough for love because the girls before you tore his world apart, so love was a painful thing that made him hate himself.
And then he asked, "Have you ever been in love, y/n?"
You remember stopping on the seawall, feeling a rush of emotions as your arms hung limp by your side, and your gaze fixated on the dark-haired boy, his silhouette bathed in the warm glow of the evening sun.
You remember wanting to say, "I have. With you." But it was stupid. So, so, so stupid. You tuck the word love under your tongue.
The wafting of summer; the salty ocean air, suntan lotion, and beer reminded you then that Wonbin was just a summer love. One which you would never fully confess to. One which his cousin Anton would tease you over the phone by saying: He's your boy. One where you smile until your cheeks hurt cause Wonbin called you pretty.
You remember that one Taylor Swift song cardigan: when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed you put me on and said I was your favorite.
You would be that tattered cardigan with moth holes with a comforting smell that'll remind him of a time when he could breathe easily for once when his world wasn't so suffocating.
But for Wobin, you would become a faded memory of a long-forgotten song. One he wouldn't listen to again until he heard it on the radio years later and turned it up getting pulled back into a time when you and he kissed for the first time under the shaded palm trees in his cousin's Anton backyard.
Little pieces of you and Wobin would be woven into every verse of that long-forgotten song that was you and him.
HAPPY EVER AFTER YOU | non! idol Namjoon x Black! fem reader.
Summary: relationships don't end happily ever after.
Themes: Regret and lost love.
Author's Note: finally getting back into writing fics. This story switches between Namjoon and Y/n's Pov given little glimpses into their heads. This story is based on the song HAPPY EVER AFTER YOU by MacKenzie Porter & Jake Etheridge. The lyrics are worked into the fiction.
NAMJOON
He stared at the old box of Black Paul Malls cigarettes. When he dated you, he stopped smoking because you hated the nicotine smell, and you wouldn’t stop reminding him of the early death he’d follow if he kept smoking. Namjoon could finally smoke them now since you're gone—no more shit from you about them.
Now you're on his mind like his favorite song, and he’s got half a mind to call you up tonight. Your number is still saved in his phone, with the same contact photo he took himself of you smiling when he first told you, "I love you." And your contact name brings "Peony," like the flower. Namjoon had always compared your beauty to flowers.
There’s a little more room in Namjoon’s chest now that he's no longer carrying you with him.
Then there's the fist-size mark in his bedroom wall. He doesn't like thinking about that night, when things got too heated, too true, too ugly for both of you.
There’s the tattoo he got of your name on his wrist. It felt like a landline still connected to you somehow. Namjoon remembered how you'd kiss the tattoo—your lips pressing to his wrist, feeling his warmth and light pulse. The way you'd linger with your lips against his skin, as if saying, "This’ll be the last time." And it was.
Now, Namjoon has half a mind to probably cover up that old tattoo.
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
Y/N
You got a hole in your chest the size of Texas. You always blamed Namjoon for everything—it was just easier that way. No accountability on your part, so you wanted to blame him for that massive black hole that sucked all your happiness into it.
On your wall still hung a picture of you and Namjoon. Tennessee, 2023. You weren’t sure why you kept it. Why you hadn’t torn it from your wall and ripped it into tiny little pieces like you both were—little pieces of nothingness.
You were a story you told yourself until your face was in the blue.
It hurts.
You got a new blue Chevy in your front yard under the dogwood where you and Namjoon’s names were carved. You'd sometimes run your fingers over it. And your pride's parked in the same spot, said it’ll be there till you move it.
You both got words you said still ringing out. And somewhere under the dead body of your relationship, love pooled underneath like blood. It’s too late to say I love you now.
There are the memories you and Namjoon both had, walking around your homes like ghosts. They never turn you both loose.
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
My request are open to BTS x Blk fem reader and Blk Male reader fics. I don't take smut requests sorry.
Reblogged
Friends to lovers because THE STREETS NEED DAT!!!!😫 (me. I need dat. Expeditiously.) All Fluff! Blk Fem!Reader🫶🏾
Neighbor!Mingi who moved in next door to you over a year ago, and your first impression of him being him knocking on your door to introduce himself, SURE, but also to shazam the song you had playing on your TV.
Neighbor!Mingi who you got close to quick cause he’s just a cool guy. Weird? sure. A loser? Oh, absolutely. And you know what? Hell yeah.
Neighbor!Mingi who will enter your apartment through your fire escape window because “It makes life more exciting.” So whenever you host movie night you keep the window cracked so he doesn’t have to knock.
Neighbor!Mingi who will probably sleep through his alarms, so you wake him up so he’s not late for the subway to work (he misses it, you gotta drive him🥴).
Neighbor!Mingi who goes grocery shopping for HIS apartment but likes to cook in YOUR kitchen???? Then take the cooked food back to his apartment????? He shares and does the dishes, but damn?!?!??
Neighbor!Mingi who you force to watch all seasons of “Girlfriends”, “Living Single”, & “A Different World” with you, which wasn’t really forced cause he locks in on the drama quick. “The pizza guy is he-” “Wait! Wait! Dwayne is gonna crash Whitley’s wedding!”
Neighbor!Mingi who’ll rush over to kill a bug for you in an instant, BUT! He won’t leave unless you pay him in food or snacks. Every fucking time.
Neighbor!Mingi who keeps your company on wash day and will purposely take all day doing an intricate skincare routine out of solidarity.
Neighbor!Mingi who will hang out on your shared fire escape with burgers on Valentine’s Day because you both went on dates and they were terrible so now you have to debrief each other on your respective horror stories.
Neighbor!Mingi who buys two of everything so you can have one for your place as well.
Neighbor!Mingi who you invite to run errands with you because it got to a point where him just showing up at your window every now and again wasn’t enough.
Neighbor!Mingi who got drunk with you one night and got teary eyed hearing you sing your heart out to “Love and War” by Tamar Braxton.
Neighbor!Mingi who saw movers at your apartment and got sad that you were moving, so he wrote you a letter and left it on your fire escape window sill….
on a windy night….so it blew away…...🤦🏾♀️
Neighbor!Mingi who you actively watched attempt to pull off the sneaky letter delivery, and fail miserably in real time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that night so you just wait until you see him again.
Neighbor!Mingi who is relieved once you explain that the movers were at your place because you’re getting in a whole new living room set and needed to remove your old one…but embarrassed after you admit seeing the whole mail thing go down.
Neighbor!Mingi who thinks “Fuck it, if not now then when?” and confesses to you. And you smile and laugh because FINALLY. You thought YOU were gonna have to do a cryptic confession and that probably would’ve been worse or 3x more embarrassing.😭
Neighbor!Mingi who, now, doesn’t need a valid reason to just show up at your apartment. And neither do you!
Neighbor!Mingi who rubbed off on you BAD so now you enter his place through the fire escape window at 6am on Saturday mornings to finish sleeping in while hogging 75% of the blankets, and there’s nothing he can do about it💁🏾♀️.
Neighbor!Mingi who’ll try to repair or diy things around your place so you don’t have to pay to have it fixed (but he lowkey sucks so you end up having to get it fixed regardless, BUT he pays for it because girlfriend privileges🫶🏾✨)
Neighbor!Mingi that invites his and your friends over for game nights only to jokingly send them home when you’re both getting collectively smoked. Yes, he still preps food and snacks in your kitchen just to bring it next door.
Neighbor!Mingi who leaves little remnants of his at your place. An extra toothbrush here, a sweater and a pair of shoes there. Also has a silk pillowcase on the bed for you at his place.
Neighbor!Mingi who you kinda don’t want to be your neighbor anymore.
Neighbor!Mingi that you propose should become Roommate!Mingi once his lease is up at the end of the year, and he kisses you before you can even finish the suggestion.
Neighbor!Mingi that just so happens to be an amazing boyfriend and will be one hell of a roomie!❣️
⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ Hope you liked it! Lemme know your thoughts🫶🏾 ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹
⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹.Masterlist.⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹
⋆˙⟡♡₊˚⊹.Blacktiny Writers Hub.⊹˚₊♡⟡˙⋆
This was the cutest thing I've ever read 😭😭. Lmao my favorite bit was the letter part. 😭😭 Really made my day to see something so wholesome.
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zu8her-deactivated20250223
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 part.2
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨♡୧︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
I will be periodically updating the list. PLEASE, PLEASE recommend your favourite BLACK AUTHORS, more importantly smaller creators (less than 1000 followers for instance) and authors that write for thick to chubby black readers and DARK SKIN black girls <3 part.1 part.2 part.3
Thank you so so so so much for the mention!!!
you look so good in love | Mingi x Blk male reader.
Author's Note: this is just a little drabble. Sorry for any mistakes.
It was the way love looked on you that Mingi stayed in awe, drinking you in. How love made you seem to look different in the right lighting when it's hitting you at an angle. You looked so good in love. Mingi's eyes trailed along the edges of your face. He wanted to show you how good love looked on you, how pretty it was. How soft it was. Love was his favorite thing on you. Mingi pulls you in by your waist as he gazed in your eyes. “Y/n,” he'd said. “I never knew how beautiful love can look on a person.”
Reblogged
thinking about gun play with seonghwa and how his eyes widen in surprise when you moan at the slightest bit of pressure from his gun pressing against your clit. he moves the gun away for a second before he presses it against your clit again, this time with a little bit more pressure. he keeps doing this until you stop him with a hand on his wrist and tell him to stop teasing you. of course this only makes him want to do it even more and you can see it in the way he smiles at you. but surprisingly he listens to you and instead starts to move it between your slick folds. you’re embarrassingly wet despite him barely doing anything and he comments on this.
“what a fucking whore,” seonghwa tuts. “i didn’t take you for someone who’d be into this kind of thing. look at how messy you’re getting it.”
you look downwards as seonghwa briefly pulls the gun away from your folds. sure enough, the muzzle is glistening with your arousal. seonghwa doesn’t say it out loud, but the slick of your wetness covering his gun turned him on in ways he didn’t think was possible. hell, he’s been turned on ever since you opened your mouth and practically begged to do all of this. you two have done a lot of nasty things together, but this? this one took the cake. this was downright filthy and the both of you knew it.
without so much as another word, seonghwa slides the gun in between your wet folds once more. you feel your pussy clenching and unclenching with every movement and it’s taking everything in you to not scream at seonghwa to just fuck you already. from the wet sounds your pussy was already making and how it steadily dripped onto bedsheets below you it was obvious that you were more than ready. what else was there left to do?
“seonghwa, please just fuck me already–” you start to whine, but you cut yourself off with a sharp inhale.
seonghwa grins up at you as he circles the muzzle around your hole, taking pleasure in seeing your pussy clench around nothing. here you are laying in front of him with your legs spread wide and pussy dripping onto his expensive sheets waiting to get fucked by a gun—his gun to be exact. he thinks back to how you eyed it with excitement earlier and didn’t stop not even once to ask if there were any bullets in it. he made sure to empty it beforehand, but the fact that you didn’t ask because you were too busy thinking about being stuffed makes him laugh.
you two are definitely going to hell after this.
“i shouldn’t be asking since you’re already a mess…” seonghwa says. “but, are you ready, baby?”
you nod so fast that it makes seonghwa laugh again. for a second it seems like you’re about to laugh, too, but the feeling of cool metal and your pussy being stretched stops you. you let out a gasp then a moan.
“oh, my god,” you breathe out at the same time seonghwa says, “oh, fuck.”
you both watch as he slowly pushes the gun further inside of you, wet noises immediately filling both of your ears. you can’t speak; all you can do is gasp and moan and whimper at the unfamiliar feeling. you’re not sure how to put it into words. you just feel full. so fucking full.
your eyes flicker to seonghwa for a brief moment. you watch as he stares at the sight before him with an intense gaze, lips parting as he lets out his own moan. he’s more enamored by this whole thing than you are now. you watch him for a while longer until he glances up at you, eyes blown wide with lust.
“can i go faster? please?” he asks. the tone of his voice is low, but there’s a hint of desperation in it.
“is that what you want?” you ask.
“yes,” seonghwa says as he slightly pushes the gun in even further. “wanna see your pretty little pussy get stretched out, baby.”
you nod before letting out another moan and bucking your hips forward. seonghwa leans forward and presses a few kisses to either side of your thighs before he presses one just above your throbbing clit. for a second you consider asking him to eat you out and fuck you with the gun at the same time, but decide against it. you have the rest of the night to do whatever you want to anyways.
They way I ate this up. SEONGHWA with a gun...first off is hot... They way he wanna see your pussy get stretched...stfu yooo 😏😮💨
6:30 | SAN X BLK FEM READER
Imagine you're doing San's makeup, just for the fun of it. You sitting on his lap facing him. You lining his lips with a lip liner. San's hands on your waist, his fingers softly digging into you. San staring at you with this cute, almost begging glint in his pretty brown eyes. San pouted making you mess up the lip liner just a bit. San holds you steady on his lap. Now you apply your favorite lipstick to his lips. San can be greedy sometimes when it comes to you. He kisses you with an urgency, smudge traces of lipsticks on your bare lips.
ATEEZ REACTIONS TO THEIR S/O WITH TATTOO SLEEVES.
Requested
Author's Note: It was on my to-do list! Finally, I'm getting to your request. I hope you like it. Sorry if it isn't the best. I haven't written reactions in a while.
Sidenote: I just finished this in a rush so I could finally get your request out. Sorry, it took me a while to get to it. I hope you still enjoy your request and thank you for always requesting with me. 🥺
SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES.
YEOSANG: He would be shocked. He hadn't seen you in months due to him being on tour. So when he sees you again and sees the colorful ink sleeve on both your arms he doesn't know what to really say at first. You talked to him before about getting a tattoo. A tramp stamp. But he never imagined he would see you with sleeves. He honestly likes it though. He'll smile at you and say, “The tattoos actually add to your hotness.”
JONGHO: He's been with you before to get tattoos, like your back one and thigh one. When he comes back from tour he's speechless seeing your new set of ink on both arms, all black designs. He would admire your new ink for a good minute. “I like it.” he would say. “It looks good on you, y/n.”
YUNHO: He was happy to you again after the world tour with Ateez. Always lots of Facetiming and falling asleep on the phone with each other. So seeing you in person, and being able to hold you again felt nice after months of being apart. You wanted to surprise your boyfriend with your new sleeves, and when you finally showed him he was left saying, “Woah.” and “You're a baddie.”
WOOYOUNG: This man when he sees your sleeves for the first time, he's hyping you up like any good boyfriend would do by saying things like, “Babe, you look badass.” and “Let me take you out so I can show you and your sleeves off.”
MINGI: He'd gasp when he first saw your tattoo sleeves. Like it's not a bad gasp but more of a surprise one. He'll check them, admiring the work your tattoo artist did. He would say something like that, “Is it okay to say you're a bad bitch?” and “The sleeves really do look good on you, baby.”
SEONGHWA: When you show him your sleeves, he's very impressed, smiling and geeking out over the art on your arms. He would say something like, “I fear you ate with these, princess.” and “Damn, you make them look so good.”
SAN: His reaction to your sleeves would be, “Woah, you actually got them done?” he'd look at them closely, telling you what he liked and how the ink complimented your skin very well. He'd probably say something else like, “Okay now I'm jealous. Should I get one?”
HONGJOONG: When he first sees your tattoo sleeves he's in shock, just staring. Because damn you did look good with the tattoo sleeves. He would say something like, “I can't wait to kiss them.” and “You look good, Y/n, baby.”
Reblogged
zu8her-deactivated20250223
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨♡୧︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿
I will be periodically updating the list. PLEASE, PLEASE recommend your favourite BLACK AUTHORS, more importantly smaller creators (less than 1000 followers for instance) and authors that write for thick to chubby black readers and DARK SKIN black girls <3
@brownsugarbaybee @melanated-writersblock @unique-high @pocminiseries @jungwonsblkgf @nirvanawrites111 @verytalented @m1ngkis @spicymelanin @prettygirl-gabi
I rarely read on here but these writers mentioned deserve attention 🤗
Note : I don't personally write x black reader because not everyone looks the same so I write strictly a black female oc instead !
Oh, wow thank you so much for the mention!!!
SLOW DANCE | BANG CHAN X BLK FEM READER
Author's Note: based on the song slow dance by John Legend.
The lights dim softly, casting long shadows across the empty dance studio. You're not sure how you ended up here, alone with him, Bang Chan—leader, perfectionist, and, tonight, a man caught between the tension of music and silence. His eyes meet yours, warm but questioning, as if asking for permission to break the distance between you.
"Just one dance," he murmurs, his voice low and coaxing, a sound that wraps around you like a whisper of the music still lingering in the air. It's the kind of voice you don't deny.
He extends his hand, palm up, waiting for you to take it. The moment feels surreal, like a scene lifted from a romance drama, with time slowing down as you try to catch your breath. You're aware of the flutter in your chest, the hesitance in your fingertips, but then you reach for him, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.
The music is slow, a heartbeat that matches the rhythm of your pulse. As he pulls you closer, every movement feels measured, deliberate. His hand rests on the small of your back, firm but gentle, guiding you as you sway together. It’s not a complicated dance—there are no grand flourishes, no practiced steps—just the two of you, moving in unison, as if the world outside has faded into nothingness.
“Do you hear that?” he asks quietly, his breath brushing against your ear. His smile is almost shy, like he's sharing a secret only you two understand. “It’s like the song was meant for this moment.”
You nod, too lost in the warmth of his presence to speak. Your heart swells with every step, as if you’ve been waiting for this moment without knowing it.
His gaze stays locked on yours, a mix of intensity and softness that steals your breath. You’ve seen him on stage countless times—fierce, commanding—but this is different. This is Bang Chan as you’ve never seen him before: vulnerable, unguarded, like he’s showing you a piece of himself he’s never revealed to anyone.
The song draws to a close, but neither of you stop moving. You stay in the rhythm of the moment, letting the silence between notes speak louder than words ever could. His forehead presses lightly against yours, and you realize that, in this stolen moment, you’ve crossed a line you can’t come back from. But you don’t mind. Not when it feels this right.
“Let’s stay like this a little longer,” he whispers, his voice barely above a breath.
You smile, feeling the soft tug of his hand, and you know—this slow dance isn’t over yet.