Her. Her. Her. It was always her. In the glittering chaos of the K-pop world, Jaeyun and Bang Chan are stars orbiting the same sun - too close to avoid collision, too prideful to admit the gravity pulling them together. Once rivals, now friends, their every interaction is a tightrope of lingering glances and sharp words, interviews filled with polite smiles masking something far messier beneath. Behind the scenes, it's different. The tension between them crackles like static - years of unresolved feelings, jealousy, and what-ifs simmering under perfect stage personas. Every accidental brush of fingers, every afterparty glance, feels like a countdown to something inevitable. They're fire and gasoline, all quiet fury and stolen moments behind locked doors. But passion this intense always demands a price. Secrets. Regret. The kind of ache that doesn't fade when the lights go down. As the line blurs between hate and desire, Jaeyun and Bang Chan are forced to ask themselves: are they destroying each other, or finally setting themselves free? A Bangchan x reader ff! Complete. ꨄ angst+fluff+smut. slowburn. HIGHEST RANKINGS: #9 - stay #19 - kpopimagines #2 - jypnation 🥈 #80 - ynstories #15 - kpopfanfic #5 - bangchan #124 - kpop #26 - tension #70 - hyunjin #41 - chan #18 - kpopff #32 - han #1 - changbin 🥇 #56 - jeongin #134 - seungmin #1 - leeknow 🥇 #8 - bangchanff

「 ⩩ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 Hana, a doctor who saves lives, is forced into the arms of Heeseung, a merciless mafia hitman who takes them. When their worlds collide, blood and fate intertwine. Yet fate is cruel, and now she stands in front of him-a beauty in the hands of a beast, a healer trapped with a killer. 」 ══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════ "Do you want to live?" His voice was almost a whisper now, dangerous, loaded with the weight of the question. Hana's throat felt tight, every word a struggle to force out. "I... I do..." she breathed, the words barely escaping her lips. The cold metal against her skin was the only thing she could focus on, and it was the only thing that was keeping her from losing herself completely. But she didn't give in. Not yet. Heeseung didn't move for a long time, his eyes never leaving her face. He didn't lower the gun, but his hand didn't shake, his resolve unwavering. "If you want to live," he murmured, his voice low and almost distant, "then you'll have to prove it to me, doctor." Her pulse raced, but she nodded, her gaze steady. "I'll do whatever it takes." Then, without warning, he moved toward her. His voice, low and velvety, broke the silence, his words cutting through the tension like a blade. "Then marry me."