Title: The Devil's Right Hand [Inspired by all the good girls go to hell by billie ellish] Riki was a demon born of shadow and sin. To the world, he was the cold-hearted mafia king, the man whose name made rivals choke on fear. He lived on control, blood, and loyalty forged in violence. No softness, no weakness until Y/N walked into his office. She wasn’t like the others. Assistants before her kept their heads down, never daring to look into his eyes. But Y/N did. Her gaze was sharp, daring, as if she wasn’t staring at a demon but at a man she refused to bow to. The first day, she dropped a stack of corrected files on his desk. “You should fire your accountant,” she said flatly. “He’s either sloppy or stupid. Probably both.” Riki’s eyes narrowed. No one spoke to him like that. “You have a sharp tongue,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Do you plan on keeping it?” Her lips curved into a smirk. “That depends. Do you plan on cutting it out?” Silence. Then, to her surprise, Riki laughed low, dangerous, amused. From that moment, she wasn’t just an assistant. She was a storm he couldn’t control, and he found himself craving it. He tested her constantly. Midnight errands. Dangerous meetings. Tasks that would break anyone else. But Y/N returned every time, chin tilted, fire in her eyes. One night, after a bloody deal gone wrong, he returned to the mansion with crimson staining his shirt. His men avoided his gaze, but Y/N stepped forward, calm as ever. She pulled out a cloth and dipped it in water, approaching him slowly. “You’re a mess,” she murmured, wiping blood from his jaw. His hand shot out, gripping her wrist, his voice low. “You’re not afraid?” She met his gaze, unwavering. “If I was afraid, I wouldn’t still be here.” Something dark and dangerous flickered in his chest. No one had ever spoken to him like that. No one had ever dared touch him with such steadiness.

Title: Crown of Ashes [HAPPY BDAY TO SEUNGMIN...Inspired by Night by Keshi] The night always carried weight when Seungmin walked into a room. His reputation preceded him.. the cold, calculated mafia boss who never flinched when the world bled around him. What they didn’t see was the way his hands shook when the gun smoke cleared, the way silence haunted him louder than gunfire. He hadn’t wanted this life. He was born into it, forced to wear the crown of violence, chained by loyalty and blood. And though he sat on the throne, his nights were filled with fractured memories faces he could never forget, ghosts clawing at his chest until sleep became another battlefield. That was when he met Y/N. She wasn’t delicate. She wasn’t afraid. She walked into the meeting room in heels sharp enough to kill, her suit pressed, her gaze sharper than the knives tucked beneath Seungmin’s table. She was everything people underestimated.. a badass businesswoman who had built empires with her bare hands, who knew how to slit throats with words before men could even draw their weapons. Seungmin hated that she didn’t flinch when their eyes met. Most people looked at him with fear. She looked at him like she was challenging him. > “You don’t scare me,” Y/N said, voice calm, as though she wasn’t standing across from one of the most dangerous men in the city. Seungmin’s jaw clenched. “Maybe you should be scared.” She tilted her head. “Or maybe you should stop pretending you’re the monster they all say you are." The words hit harder than any bullet ever had. Because she saw through him. Through the mask, through the blood, through the cold armor he wore every day. She saw the cracks in him, the man beneath the mafia boss the boy who had never been given a choice. And that terrified him more than anything.

Title: Bite Me Gently [Inspired by Lucid by Jeff satur] Yeonjun was the kind of boy mothers warned their daughters about. Handsome, sharp-tongued, and with a smile that could melt even the iciest heart, he carried the reputation of a shameless flirt. People whispered about his careless teasing, the way he made promises he never intended to keep, and the trail of broken hearts left behind him. But all of that changed the moment he met Y/N. Y/N was different. She didn’t blush at his flirtations or stumble over his casual winks. Instead, she met his charm with a steady, unreadable gaze. There was something about her mysterious, alluring, like a secret that begged to be uncovered. Yeonjun, who never once thought of love as anything more than a fleeting game, found himself captivated. What he didn’t know at first was that Y/N carried a truth far heavier than his teasing heart could imagine. She wasn’t like anyone else. She was a vampire. At first, Yeonjun thought it was a joke. But one evening, when the moonlight caught the glint of her fangs, he realized the danger wrapped inside the girl he adored. Most people would have run. But Yeonjun didn’t. Instead, he smiled in that infuriating, reckless way of his and said, “Figures. Only a vampire could make me fall this hard.” Loving Y/N wasn’t simple. Her world was cloaked in shadows, ruled by hunger and the constant battle against instincts she couldn’t always control. There were nights when her eyes would darken, her breath would grow shallow, and she wouldn’t even have to say a word. Yeonjun would notice the signs immediately. Without hesitation, without fear, he would simply press a carton of milk into her hands. He teased her about it “Better not bite me when you’ve got this, sweetheart”but deep down, it was his way of showing love. He never asked for explanations, never judged the struggle she lived with. Instead, he stayed quietly protecting her in the only way he knew.

Title: Ashes for a Fragile Heart [Inspired by Wrong by Chris grey] She moves like a threat and a promise at the same time Y/N, all angles and quiet violence, the kind of woman who carries a storm in the hollow of her wrist and a lighter in the back pocket of her jeans. People tell stories about her the way old sailors tell ghost stories: half awe, half warning. She is beautiful in the way danger is beautiful sudden, magnetic, impossible to look away from. Her kindness is transactional and rare; cruelty is an art she has practiced until its edges are sharp enough to cut mirror-bright reflections of herself. She laughs like a match struck on bone. If love is currency, she spends it in big, incendiary notes. "I’d burn it all,” she says once, and the way she says it makes you believe the city could be reduced to embers just to heat one small thing Sunoo. Sunoo is the opposite of her in every way that matters. He is a vase made of thin glass, delicate and often trembling; a child left too long in the rain. His voice slips like a secret: soft, dampened by sleep, and always with the echo of a plea. He cries easily at rain, at a stray dog’s gaze, at a line of a song that hangs like a question. The cruelty of the world sits heavy on his shoulders and he bears it as though the world were a puzzle he doesn’t know how to solve. One insult can flatten him like a sudden gust collapsing a paper boat. He smiles like someone who’s discovered a small miracle and is afriad to look away. They do not make sense on paper. She is ash and iron; he is water-coloured and say-too-much. Yet she keeps him close like contraband, like something sacred she can’t sell even if selling it would pay for a thousand burned bridges. There is a tenderness in her that rarities have: hidden, fierce, and dangerous to anyone who tries to map it. For him she is a soft lie and an honest threat. For her he is the only truth she allows herself to hold.

Title: Strength in the Heart [Inspired by My love will Remain by josh makazoo] Bang Chan had never known luxury. His life was a collection of patched-up clothes, worn-out shoes, and dreams too fragile to speak aloud. Money had always slipped through his fingers like water, but despite that, he never allowed bitterness to take root in his heart. People often whispered that poverty hardens a man, but in Chan’s case, it had polished him into something rare a gentleman who carried kindness like an inheritance. He held doors open, offered help without being asked, and wore his smile as if it were armor against the cruelty of the world. He never raised his voice. Even when insulted or underestimated, Chan bowed his head politely, answering cruelty with grace. But behind that quiet resilience was a heart that beat restlessly, a heart that belonged to someone who had no intention of accepting it. Y/N. Where Chan was warmth, Y/N was fire. She was the kind of person who didn’t need to demand respect it came to her naturally, trailing in her wake like shadows. She was fearless, sharp-tongued, and impossible to intimidate. While others might dream of soft romances, she dismissed the very idea with a scoff. “Love?” she would say, her voice like steel cutting through the air. “Love means weakness.” It wasn’t just a phrase to her it was a shield. A wall she had built around herself with bricks of defiance and iron gates of pride. To her, vulnerability was a cage, and she had spent too long fighting to be free to let anyone lock her down with feelings. She walked through the world untamed, her chin high, her smirk daring anyone to challenge her authority. And yet, against every rule she set for herself, her heart betrayed her. Because somewhere between Chan’s gentle persistence and his unfailing respect, she found herself faltering. His patience cracked the armor she swore was unbreakable...

Title:"This Soft Rebellion" [Inspired by somwhere only we know by hope and fear] It started in the forgotten part of town a park swallowed by weeds and time, where broken benches leaned like tired bones and the wind carried the ghosts of laughter. Sunoo liked it there. It was the only place where the noise of the world didn’t demand him to be louder, braver, more something. And then Y/N showed up. Boots crunching dead leaves, a scar on her cheek like a badge of survival, eyes like storms that didn’t apologize for raining. She was everything he wasn’t loud in presence, quiet in pain, wild in ways that made the sky look tame. “You always hide here?” she asked the first time, half a smirk on her lips. “You always invade sacred places?” he countered, a rare sharpness in his voice. That was the beginning. They met again. And again. Days blurred. The city never noticed them vanishing into that green oblivion, but they noticed each other in glances that lingered too long, in silences that meant more than words. Y/N talked about running. “I want to disappear,” she’d say. “Take a train, never look back.” Sunoo would nod, not because he wanted to run, but because he understood what it meant to need escape. He talked about feeling too much. “It hurts,” he’d whisper. “Everything does.” And Y/N, who’d built walls from pain, softened only for him. “Then don’t carry it alone,” she said. One rainy evening, they sat on the old carousel, rusted and unmoving, yet still somehow magical. She looked at him like he was the only gentle thing left in the world. He looked at her like she was the only one who could survive it. “I’m scared,” he said. “Of what?” “Of this. Of you. Of finally feeling safe.” Y/N didn’t flinch. She just held his hand, rough and delicate together. “You think I’m not scared too?” she asked “You think I don’t want to run the second I realize I care?” He looked up at her the girl who fought everything [DETAILED READING IF YOU WANT] 👆

"Crimson Glare" [inspired by gradient by josh makazoo] Y/N knew Hyunjin was wrong for her the second he looked at her like he already owned her. Not in the way boys flirt in the way wolves watch. Cautious. Calculated. Carnivorous They met in shadows, in the half-light of some underground bar where basslines hit harder than morals. He wore all black, jaw sharp like a warning. And when he smiled slow, deliberate it didn’t reach his eyes. But she followed him anyway. There was no soft beginning. No candlelit dates. No whispered promises. Just tension. Static. A stare that didn’t break. She told herself it was fascination. That’s what people did with danger, right? Stare at it until it burned holes in them. But Hyunjin was the kind of burn that felt good. He moved through the world like he had nothing to lose and everything to break. And somehow, she liked the way he looked at her like she was both. It was late, maybe 3AM. She showed up at his place after one of their fights red-eyed, makeup smudged, biting back whatever pride she had left. “I’m not your Fxxcking possession, Hyunjin,” she hissed, voice cracking. “You can’t keep doing this controlling, twisting” “You’re the one who came back.” That stopped her. He took a step forward, slow and predatory. She stepped back, spine hitting the cold brick wall of his apartment hallway. Her chest rose and fell, every breath daring him. “You want me to stop?” he murmured, voice low. “Say it.” Her lips parted but nothing came out. And that’s when his hand wrapped around her throat. Not tight. Not soft either. Just enough. Fingers cold, grip steady. His body pressed close, caging her in. The air shifted. Her heart slammed. “Say it,” he repeated eyes boring into hers, all storm and hunger and something darker. Y/N’s hands curled around his wrist not to pull away. Just to feel. “You don’t want me to stop,” he whispered, voice dragging like velvet over glass “You like it when I ruin you." [detailed reading] 👆

“Hotel Room 312 ” [Inspired by "Made Me a Man" – Jackson Wang BL] The rain hadn’t stopped in three days. Neither had Yoon-seok’s unease. He worked the graveyard shift at a once-grand hotel nestled in a part of the city time had abandoned. The building creaked with secrets. Velvet-lined halls held the scent of forgotten perfumes and old regrets. A place where things came to disappear lovers, money, sometimes people. Yoon-seok didn’t ask questions. He was good at that. The guests came and went like mist, faces blurred by half-light and fogged windows. Most never stayed more than a night. They never looked back. And neither did he. Until the night he arrived. Baek-ho. Tall. Pale. A silhouette cut from smoke. He stepped through the glass doors just after 3:12 a.m., soaked but unbothered. Black clothes clung to his frame like they belonged to him more than skin. He didn’t check in. Didn’t ask. He dropped a thick wad of bills on the counter and said only, “Room 312.” Yoon-seok hesitated. “We usually require ID” Baek-ho didn’t speak. He just looked at him. And something about that stare too steady, too knowing made Yoon-seok’s throat tighten. He handed him the key. Hands brushed, just slightly. Cold fingers. Warmer than expected. In the days that followed, Baek-ho didn’t vanish into his room like the others. He lingered. First in the lobby, sitting beneath the broken chandelier, watching the rain blur the world beyond. Then on the staircase between floors, still as a shadow. Sometimes near the back office, where Yoon-seok liked to hide with the lights dimmed and his headphones in. Baek-ho never knocked. Never spoke. But he was there. And Yoon-seok? He started watching back..to be continued..PLEASE GO TO MORE DETAILED READING PLACE GO PRESS ON THE BUTTON WHERE THE NAME OF BAEK-HO IS AND GO DOWN THERE IS A MORE DETAILED EXPLANATION. thank you.

Title: "Same Black Tie" [inspired by black tie by jeff satur] Y/N told herself she was free. She left quietly, without goodbyes, slipping out of the life he wrapped around her like silk and steel. No contact. No headlines. No trace. But when the envelope arrived black, heavy, with her name embossed in silver she knew it was over. There were no threats inside. Just an address. A date. And beneath it, in his handwriting: “I never stopped waiting.” She should’ve burned it. Instead, she got in the car. The penthouse was as cold and calculated as the man who ruled it. All glass and marble. It looked down on the city like a god. Lee Minho didn’t rise when she walked in. He didn’t need to. He was already winning. “I see exile humbled you,” he said simply. She didn’t answer. Her silence didn’t bother him. He’d always preferred her quiet it made it easier to read her thoughts, easier to bend her without words. Two years hadn’t changed him. Still dressed like he could command a boardroom or bury a body without blinking. Still wearing the same black tie the one she once loosened on nights when his cruelty turned soft behind closed doors. But that softness was gone now. If it had ever been real. “You had your fun playing free,” he said. “Now I’m done waiting.” He handed her a folder. Legal. Sealed. She didn’t open it. “You think I’d just come back because you asked?” she said. He didn’t answer. Because he knew. She had come back. And that was enough. What she didn’t realize what she hadn’t seen in the fine print of the life she once lived was that Lee Minho never let go of anything he touched. Not companies. Not power. Not her. And this time, he wasn’t going to let her walk out. Not without paying the full price.

Title:"Velvet Ruin" [inspired by ride or die by jeff Satur] The city never slept, but it always mourned. Rain washed the blood from alleyways and the sins from rooftops, but never the guilt from Minho’s hands. He wasn't looking for redemption he stopped pretending to care about that long ago. What he needed was silence. Stillness. A reason to stop running. He found her in the quiet. Y/N. She wasn’t the kind of beautiful that made heads turn. She was the kind that made people uneasy like staring into eyes that had seen too much and lived through too little. She worked the bar like she didn’t care if the world ended the next day. Maybe she hoped it would. Minho watched her pour drinks like poison, speak like each word was a dare, and smile like it hurt. He didn’t ask her name the first night. Didn’t need to. Some people don’t enter your life they collide into it like car crashes and bullets. They became a secret no one could afford. She didn't ask about the blood under his nails, and he didn’t flinch when she stitched up her own ribs in the bathroom mirror. Their love was never soft. It was desperate. Sharp-edged. Reckless. But in the madness, they made sense. Minho would die for her. He decided that before he even kissed her. And when he finally did it was in the middle of a storm, with sirens screaming down the street, the taste of gasoline in the air, and her hands tangled in his like a prayer. But love like theirs didn’t get a happy ending. It got warnings. Ultimatums. Bodies. Minho crossed the wrong man. The kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to cut throats. The kind of man Y/N used to work for. Secrets spilled. Blood followed. And just like that, the world started collapsing. They ran. They burned bridges and buried names. Every day was survival, every night a countdown. But in the chaos, they were alive more than they had ever been.

Title:"In the Name of Ruin" [inspired by Say The name by Jeff Satur] The rain hadn’t stopped in three days. Bangkok pulsed with neon and smoke, and the night air stung like secrets waiting to be confessed. Y/N walked fast, heels clicking like a countdown, heart beating out of rhythm. That’s when she saw him. Niki. Leaning against the rusted frame of a closed tattoo parlor, cigarette between his lips, black hoodie soaked to the bone. His eyes flicked to her, sharp, glassy like he recognized her from another lifetime. Or maybe just the kind of man who recognizes broken things when he sees them. “You always walk alone this late?” he asked, voice low like a cello in a funeral song.“Only when I don’t want to be found,” she replied. He smiled, slow and dangerous. “Too late.” That was the beginning. Y/N didn’t know what Niki did for a living. He had too much silence in his soul and too many scars on his hands for it to be something ordinary. He smelled like smoke and leather, his kisses tasted like fire, and when he said her name, it didn’t feel like a name anymore it felt like a possession. “Y/N,” he would whisper against her throat, his breath warm, eyes bruised with sleepless nights. “Don’t disappear on me.” “I should,” she whispered. “You’re not safe.” He chuckled, bitter and breathless. “Neither are you.” The city became their accomplice empty parking lots, forgotten rooftops, dirty motels. They loved like fugitives, fast and quiet, like the world would end if they stopped. Maybe it already had. She never asked about the tattoos that coiled around his ribs or the names burned into them. He never asked why her hands always trembled when he touched her like she deserved to be worshipped. But there were whispers. A girl before her. A fire. A death that was never solved. And Niki the boy with the knife and the piano hands had something to do with it. Still, Y/N stayed. Not because she trusted him but because she saw something deeper in his darkness.

Title:"Beautiful Ruin" [inspired by the machine by reed wonder] They say love is patient. That it waits. They're wrong. Love isn’t patient. It’s a hunger with a pretty face A storm with soft hands. I knew that the second I saw her Y/N She wasn’t doing anything special. Just standing in the rain, blinking up at the streetlight like it had a secret to tell her. Everyone else passed like ghosts, but not her. She was real. Bright Unaware. And mine. Not in some sweet fairytale way. No. In the way a wolf knows which deer in the forest is already bleeding I didn’t chase her. I didn’t need to. I watched. I waited. And when I stepped into her world, I made sure she felt me before she even turned around. Fear. Curiosity. Heat. She pretended she didn’t see me at first. I let her pretend. Some people like to believe they choose who they love. Let her have the illusion I didn’t flirt I didn’t play. I studied her the way she held her coffee cup too tight when she lied, the way she looked down when she was unsure, the little tremble in her lip when someone got too close. She thought I was beautiful. Good. I am. But beauty hides sharp things. And I’m not soft. I’m not sweet. I’m not the kind of man who asks, “Do you love me?” I look you in the eyes and say, “Prove it." The first time she tried to leave i almost laughed. Her hand shook on the doorknob. She looked back at me like she expected a fight. But I don’t fight for what’s already mine. “You’ll come back,” I said. And she did. Because there’s no version of her life where I don’t exist now. I live under her skin. I breathe between her thoughts. She told herself I was dangerous. She was right. But what scared her more was how much she wanted that danger. How much she wanted me. I don’t hurt her. Not unless she asks me to. And sometimes she does. With her eyes. With her silence. With the way she leans in when I’m angry, like she wants to see how far I’ll go. I love her. But I don’t love like other people.

Title: "Weakness" [Inspired by Belong To You by Josh Makazoo] Sunoo had always been sunshine sweet to the core, laughing with his whole body, twirling to music in public without a care. He wore oversized sweaters, bunny pins, and called everyone “cutie” with zero fear. Everyone adored him, but no one took him seriously. Y/N was the opposite. Cold. Sharp. She rarely smiled, and when she did it usually meant trouble. She walked through life with a don’t-touch-me energy that made people obey. She never started fights, but she always ended them. So when Sunoo walked straight into her on the first day of class, eyes wide and pink lips apologizing a hundred times, it was like watching a kitten crash into a lioness. People waited for her to bite. But she didn’t. She stared at him for a second blinked slowly and said, “Watch where you’re going fluffball" Then walked away Sunoo was enchanted. After that he kept showing up With candy Dumb jokes Tiny trinkets Always smiling always a little too close, always brave enough to poke at her ice At first she rolled her eyes Told him to go away Threatened him once with a pen to the neck He laughed “You wouldn’t hurt me” he said tilting his head “I’m your favorite” She should’ve slapped him Instead she turned away hiding the curve of her lips Damn it. He melted her without even trying Eventually they became inseparable her in all black and boots, him in pastels and plushie keychains walking down campus like the oddest couple in existence. She never said she liked him He never said she was scary But when he crawled into her lap and pout she’d sigh and stroke his hair And when someone looked at him the wrong way she was already cracking her knuckles Sunoo loved how safe he felt with her Y/N loved how soft she was with her When they were alone everything flipped Sometimes he’d whine cling to her melt under her touch like sugar But sometimes he'd pin her to the wall with a cheeky grin whisper things that made her knees weak.

Title: Let Me Burn With You [inspired by Let It Burn by Josh Makazoo] They met in the worst possible way at a party neither of them wanted to be at. Chan was drunk, furious, bleeding from his knuckles. Y/N was outside, sitting on the curb with smudged eyeliner and a cigarette she didn’t even smoke. He dropped beside her without a word, jaw tight, silence thick. She didn’t ask what happened. She just handed him the lighter. That’s how it started no games, no lies. Just damage and silence. From there, it spiraled. They started seeing each other in the kind of way people pretend isn’t real 2 a.m. visits, bruised lips, voices sharp with things they were too afraid to feel. They fought like lovers and kissed like enemies. It was never sweet. It was never safe. But it was honest. And somehow, honesty hurt worse. Now it was three months later. Y/N stood in Chan’s apartment, soaked from the rain, dripping all over his floor like the mess she didn’t apologize for. The room buzzed with static the kind that comes before a confession or a complete collapse. Chan stared at her from across the room. His chest rose and fell like he’d just run a mile. Or like he was trying not to cry. "You always show up when I’ve almost got it under control,” he said. She swallowed. “And you always open the door.” he laughed low, bitter. “I hate that you know that.” She stepped forward. “Then stop letting me in.” His eyes flicked up to meet hers, something breaking open behind them. the obsession rised and finally the moment came.