#choi yoenjun oneshot

[gyu-tori]

Guard My Heart | C.YJ

Pairing: idol!yeonjun x bodyguard fem!reader Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, Comedy Warnings:: sasaeng encounter, mentions of a knife, might've missed something

Summary: Yeonjun was supposed to be just another assignment—another idol to guard, another job to do. But from the moment you meet, he makes it his personal mission to get under your skin. With his endless teasing, late-night antics, and shameless need for attention, he tests your patience at every turn. No matter how much you try to keep things professional, he just won’t let up. But somewhere between playful bickering, stolen snacks, and texts that definitely aren’t work-related, you start to wonder… Who’s really guarding who?

Word count: 6.3k

You expected your new assignment to be difficult.

After all, guarding a top idol—especially one as famous as Choi Yeonjun—was never going to be easy. Fans could be unpredictable, the media relentless, and sasaengs downright dangerous. But you had handled tough clients before. You were trained for this.

What you weren’t expecting was this.

Yeonjun, sitting across from you in the HYBE conference room, arms folded, lips pursed in barely concealed dissatisfaction. His bright red hair catches the fluorescent light, making him look even more dramatic as he narrows his eyes at you.

“This is a joke, right? This is my new bodyguard?” he asks, voice laced with amusement. His sharp eyes scan you from head to toe, analyzing, testing. His lips twitch like he’s holding back laughter. 

You don’t react.

“No offense,” he continues, looking you up and down. “But you’re... you know. Small.”

Still, you don’t react.

Yeonjun leans forward, elbows on the table, clearly testing. “Are you even qualified?”

You blink at him. “Try me.”

For a split second, surprise flashes across his face. Then, to your dismay, his lips curl into a grin.

“Oh, I like you already,” he muses, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You resist the urge to sigh. This is going to be a long assignment.

The manager clears his throat. “Choi Yeonjun, this is Y/N. She’ll be assigned to you for the duration of your solo promotions. Given the increase in sasaeng activity, HYBE has decided that personal security for solo schedules is a priority.”

“Right,” Yeonjun hums, leaning back. “So what, she’s gonna follow me around all the time?”

“Yes,” you reply before the manager can. “I’ll be present at all your schedules, guarding your exits, and ensuring your safety. I’ll also be stationed a few floors below your dorm for emergencies.”

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, looking almost impressed by your no-nonsense tone.

“So you’re really serious about this, huh?”

You don’t answer.

Yeonjun exhales, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. Let’s set some ground rules then, shall we?”

You nod, waiting.

“One,” he holds up a finger. “No invading my personal space.”

You blink. “That depends. If someone lunges at you, do you want me to ask for permission first?”

He chuckles. “Okay, fair. But if I want to, I don’t know, get some late-night food, you’re not gonna be a buzzkill about it, right?”

You meet his gaze. “For your safety, here’s how this is going to work,” you say, arms crossed as you brief him and his manager. “You will not go anywhere without me. No sneaking off, no last-minute changes in schedule, and absolutely no ditching security.”

Yeonjun hums thoughtfully, tilting his head. “So you’re basically my shadow now?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “You will contact me if anything feels off. Only if something feels wrong. Understood?”

He pouts dramatically. “No fun.”

“This isn’t about fun,” you reply, deadpan. “It’s about safety.”

His eyes gleam with mischief. “We’ll see.”

Yeonjun doesn’t waste any time.

The moment your official duties begin, he takes it upon himself to make them as insufferable as possible.

It starts small.

He walks too fast, then too slow.

You keep pace effortlessly, adjusting without complaint.

Then he fake trips.

You don’t react.

He catches himself—gracefully, of course—and glances at you expectantly, waiting for some sort of acknowledgment.

Nothing.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “You weren’t even gonna try to catch me?”

You adjust the earpiece in your ear, still walking. “If you fall and crack your head, I am not responsible.”

Yeonjun grins. “She speaks!”

You give him a sidelong glance. “Only when necessary.”

He grins. “Good to know.”

For the rest of the afternoon, he keeps trying.

He pretends to get lost inside the HYBE building, just to see if you’ll panic, you don’t.

He “accidentally” walks into the wrong dressing room before a shoot ,you yank him out by the hood.

He even tries to make you laugh by doing ridiculous dances in the hallway.

Nothing works. But he’s determined.

Later that night, you’re posted near the dorm elevator when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye.

You don’t have to turn your head to know exactly who it is.

Choi Yeonjun, dressed in all black like a wannabe spy, creeping toward the doors like he isn’t being completely obvious.

You wait until his finger hovers over the elevator button before speaking.

“If you press that button, I will escort you back to your dorm immediately.”

Yeonjun jumps slightly, spinning around.

“You are way too quiet,” he complains, clutching his chest dramatically.

You cross your arms. “And you are way too obvious.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “C’mon, miss bodyguard. I’m just getting snacks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Alone?”

His lips twitch. “Guess you’ll just have to come with me.”

You exhale through your nose, weighing your options. It’s not technically a high-risk situation. The building is secure. He’s wearing a mask and cap.

“…Fine.”

Yeonjun’s eyes light up like he’s just won the lottery.

Minutes later, you find yourselves on a rooftop, a plastic bag of snacks between you. The city glows below, the hum of distant traffic filling the silence.

For the first time since meeting him, Yeonjun isn’t talking.

And strangely, it isn’t uncomfortable.

You don’t say anything either, letting the quiet settle between you.

Eventually, Yeonjun breaks the silence with a hum of amusement.

“You know,” he muses, tearing open a bag of chips, “you don’t hate me as much as you pretend to.”

You glance at him. “I never said I hated you.”

He tilts his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. “No, but you try really hard to act like you don’t care.”

You don’t respond. Yeonjun doesn’t push.

After escorting him on his late night escapade and heading back to your respective dorms, your phone vibrates. 

Yeonjun: I kinda bought too many snacks, want some?You: Go to sleep.Yeonjun: A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would sufficeYou: No.Yeonjun: LiarrrrYou: Goodnight.

You stare at the screen for a moment before shaking your head, tossing the phone onto your nightstand.

This job is going to be exhausting.

The next few days, Yeonjun seems to make it his personal mission to get under your skin.

It starts with little things.

When walking ahead of you, he suddenly slows down—forcing you to either walk beside him or come to an awkward halt.

When you side-step to keep your usual position behind him, he mirrors you, making it obvious that he’s doing it on purpose.

You ignore it.

Then, he starts talking.

“Why are you always so serious?” he asks one morning on the way to a recording.

You don’t answer immediately.

“Why are you always talking?” you counter after a beat.

Yeonjun grins, as if pleased that you responded at all. “Because I want to know what makes you tick.”

You give him nothing.

He leans in slightly. “Are you secretly in love with me?”

You don’t even blink. “Are you secretly incapable of shutting up?”

Beomgyu, who’s been watching from the side, nearly chokes on his water.

Yeonjun gapes at you before breaking into a wide grin. “Oh, you’re good.”

You roll your eyes and walk ahead.

He follows, laughing to himself. He’s definitely going to crack you.

“Honestly, at this point, you two might as well just start dating,” Beomgyu teases one afternoon.

You’re in the practice room, watching the members rehearse.

Yeonjun, who’s taking a water break, wipes sweat from his brow and smirks. “Honey, what do you think?”

He looks right at you.

You meet his gaze with a deadpan expression. “Sure , but I get half your paycheck.”

Soobin spits out his drink.

Taehyun straight-up claps.

Beomgyu gasps in delight. “Wait—she’s kind of scary. I like her.”

Yeonjun… turns red.

“Oh my god,” Kai laughs, pointing. “He’s actually blushing.”

“Shut up,” Yeonjun grumbles, but the tips of his ears are undeniably pink.

Later that night, your phone vibrates.

Yeonjun: So do you want it in cash or bank transfer?You: Stop texting me.Yeonjun: That’s not a no.

You toss your phone aside.

This man is exhausting.

And yet, a tiny—dangerous—part of you is starting to find it entertaining.

It happens a few days later.

Yeonjun is mid-conversation with a staff member when he catches himself watching you.

The way you quietly scan the crowd at the filming site. The way your head tilts slightly when you’re focused. The way your fingers tap against your leg, subtle but rhythmic, like a habit.

Why am I noticing these things?

He shakes himself out of it, forcing himself back into the conversation.

It’s nothing.

Just curiosity.

Right?

It’s after a music show recording when it happens.

Another male idol—someone from another group—sidles up to you while you’re standing near the dressing room entrance.

“Hey, you’re Yeonjun’s bodyguard, right?” he asks, leaning in slightly. “That’s kinda cool.”

You don’t react. “Can I help you?”

The idol grins. “Just wondering if you’re off-duty later. Maybe we could—”

A hand lands on your shoulder.

Yeonjun.

“She’s with me,” he says smoothly, his arm sliding around you with practiced ease.

The idol blinks. “Oh. My bad, man—”

Yeonjun just smiles, a little too sharp. “No worries.”

The moment the guy walks away, you step out of Yeonjun’s grasp, crossing your arms.

“What was that?”

He shrugs. “Just making sure you weren’t uncomfortable.”

You study him for a moment before shaking your head. “You’re weird.”

Yeonjun just grins.

Later that night—

Yeonjun: I was pretty cool today, huh?You: No.Yeonjun: LiesssssYeonjun: Hey, random question…You: What?Yeonjun: If I was kidnapped, would you pay the ransom to rescue me?You: That depends. How much are they asking for?Yeonjun: ???You: If it’s less than my monthly salary, then no.Yeonjun: That’s so cold. I thought we were getting closer.You: This is a professional relationship.Yeonjun: I professionally think you have a nice face.You: Block.

Yeonjun laughs, tossing his phone onto his bed.

This is definitely going to be fun.

You should’ve seen it coming.

Yeonjun has been running on fumes for days—back-to-back schedules, late-night practices, barely any sleep. His body was bound to give out eventually.

Still, when you walk into the dorm and find him curled up on the couch like a half-dead sloth, it’s… unsettling.

“Are you dying?” you ask flatly, setting your bag down.

Yeonjun groans, burying his face deeper into the blanket draped over his head. “Feels like it.” His voice is hoarse, thick with congestion. “Can’t move. Just leave me here. Tell my fans I love them.”

You roll your eyes.

“Did you take medicine?”

A vague grunt.

“Did you eat?”

Another grunt.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I swear to god—”

He groans again, more dramatic this time. “I can’t eat. My throat hurts. I’m weak. Frail. Delicate.”

You sigh and disappear into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, you return with a steaming cup of tea and place it on the table in front of him. “Drink.”

Yeonjun cracks one eye open. “You made me tea?”

“I am contractually obligated to keep you alive,” you deadpan.

He smirks weakly. “You care about me.”

You shove the tea closer. “Drink it before I pour it on your head.”

Yeonjun chuckles but obeys, taking a slow sip. His eyes slip shut as he swallows. “Damn. That’s actually good.”

You cross your arms. “Maybe if you start listening to me like a good patient, you’ll recover faster.”

He peeks up at you with a lopsided grin. “You sound like my mom.”

Without missing a beat, you fire back, “Then start listening to me like a good son.”

For a moment, Yeonjun just blinks at you.

A slow, mischievous smirk spreads across his lips.

“Oooh,” he hums, voice teasing. “You have a mommy kink?”

You shove the tea back into his hands so fast he nearly spills it.

“Drink.”

He laughs through his coughs but does as he’s told.

Later when you leave his dorm, he’s already buzzing your phone.

Yeonjun: So when do I get more tea from my mommy? You: Never texting you again.

It starts as a joke.

You’re standing at the edge of the practice room, watching Yeonjun go through his choreography for an upcoming performance. He moves with effortless precision—fluid, controlled, and stupidly good at what he does.

After a final spin, he shoots you a look through the mirror.

“You should try it.”

You scoff. “I’m your bodyguard, not a backup dancer.”

Yeonjun grins, stepping toward you. “C’mon. Just one move. Super simple.”

“I don’t—”

Before you can finish, he’s grabbing your wrist, tugging you into the center of the room.

“Just follow my lead.”

You sigh, resigning yourself to whatever nonsense this is.

Yeonjun demonstrates a step, slow and exaggerated. “See? Easy.”

You copy him, mimicking his footwork.

He nods approvingly. “Not bad. Now a little faster.”

You repeat the move.

You step forward—directly onto his foot.

Hard.

“OW—” Yeonjun yelps, hopping on one leg. “You actually just—Ow, ow, ow—”

The other members, who had been stretching nearby, burst into laughter.

Beomgyu collapses onto the floor, wheezing. “Bro, she really took you out!”

Yeonjun glares at you, still clutching his foot. “That was personal. I felt it.”

You cross your arms. “I warned you.”

He exhales dramatically, shaking his head. “Okay. Maybe bodyguard work is more your thing.”

You smirk. “Told you.”

His constant texts of nonsense hadn’t stopped, they just got… more creative.

Yeonjun: If I get a paper cut, is that an emergency? You: No. Yeonjun: What if it’s a really bad one? You: Still no. Yeonjun: What if I have an emotional paper cut? You: Blocked. Yeonjun: 😭😭😭

You sigh, dropping your phone onto the table.

This is getting out of control.

Because it doesn’t feel like just a game anymore.

After a long event, you and Yeonjun sit in the company car, exhausted.

The city lights blur past the windows, the hum of the engine filling the silence.

Yeonjun exhales, tilting his head back.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” he murmurs.

You glance at him. “What is?”

“How you’re always here.”

Your fingers twitch slightly against your lap.

“It’s my job,” you say, more to yourself than to him.

“Yeah, but…” He turns his head, eyes settling on you. “It doesn’t feel like just that anymore.”

Your stomach twists. You don’t answer. And Yeonjun doesn’t push but the words linger between you, unspoken.

It happens during a late-night shoot.

The production team has been working for hours, filming Yeonjun’s new solo music video. He was filming a scene where he pours a bottle of water on himself, then proceeds to dance.

But the thing about water? It makes everything slippery.

You’re standing off to the side, scanning the area as Yeonjun films a take. He moves through the scene flawlessly, his body swaying to the beat, charisma practically dripping off him.

Then—

His foot slides.

It happens too fast. One second, he’s perfectly in sync with the music. The next, his balance wavers.

You react instinctively.

Before he can hit the slick ground, you step forward, grabbing his arm and pulling him upright.

Unfortunately, Yeonjun overcorrects.

Momentum carries him forward.

Directly into you.

The world slows as his body crashes into yours, and suddenly, you’re chest-to-chest.

You brace against the impact, hands gripping his shoulders to steady him. His arms instinctively wrap around your waist to keep himself from fully toppling over.

The set falls eerily silent.

It takes a second to register—how close your faces are, how your breaths mingle in the chilly night air, how you can feel the warmth of his hands even through your jacket.

Yeonjun blinks, looking dazed.

Then his gaze flickers down.

Your heart jumps.

There’s something different in his expression—less teasing, more intense.

The weight of it makes your throat go dry.

For a moment, neither of you move.

Neither of you speak.

“Uh…”

A voice breaks the tension.

Beomgyu.

You both snap out of it at the same time, stepping apart so fast it’s almost comical.

Beomgyu, who was standing a few feet away, only having arrived to support Yeonjun, raises an eyebrow. “So… should we leave you two alone, or—?”

“Shut up,” Yeonjun mutters, running a hand through his hair as if that will somehow erase what just happened.

You clear your throat. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun says, still looking a little dazed. Then he exhales a soft laugh. “Guess you really are my bodyguard.”

The teasing is forced. You can tell.

And the way he keeps sneaking glances at you for the rest of the night?

Yeah. You definitely didn’t imagine it.

The tension doesn’t fade.

Even after the shoot wraps, even after the crew starts packing up, even after Beomgyu finally stops wiggling his eyebrows at you from across the set.

You can still feel it.

It lingers in the way Yeonjun keeps glancing at you. The way his jaw tightens every time someone disrupts the silence stretching between you. The way his hands clench like he wants to say something but can’t.

You pretend not to notice.

But of course, Yeonjun doesn’t let things slide that easily.

“Y/N.”

You barely have time to react before he grabs your wrist, tugging you toward a secluded area behind the set. It’s quiet here, away from the lingering staff members and nosy bandmates.

You sigh, already knowing where this is going.

“Yeonjun—”

“What was that?” His voice is quiet but firm. “Back there.”

You fold your arms. “You slipped. I caught you. That’s it.”

He lets out a short laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah? Is that what we’re calling it?”

You don’t respond.

Yeonjun steps closer. Not too much, but enough that the air between you suddenly feels thinner. “Don’t act like you didn’t feel it.” His voice is lower now, more serious. “Because I know I did.”

Your breath catches.

Yeonjun isn’t teasing anymore. There’s no playful smirk, no mischievous glint in his eyes.

Just quiet intensity.

“I don’t know what this is,” he admits, running a hand through his damp hair. “But I know that it’s… something.”

You swallow hard.

“You don’t want to talk about it? Fine,” he continues. “But don’t pretend it’s not there.”

It’s dangerous—the way his words make your resolve crack, the way your heart betrays you by speeding up.

You know what he’s asking.

You know where this road leads.

And you can’t—

You step back.

“This isn’t a drama, Yeonjun,” you say quietly. “You have your career. I have a job to do.”

Yeonjun’s expression flickers—something unreadable, something almost hurt—but he masks it quickly.

For a long moment, he just looks at you.

Then he exhales, a bitter smile ghosting his lips. “Right.”

The word is simple.

But it stings.

You don’t wait for him to say anything else.

You turn and walk away, willing yourself not to look back.

Later that night, you lie in your bed, recalling the events that happened earlier. Yeonjun’s words haunt your mind. 

Buzz!

The sudden vibration brought you back to reality from your thoughts. You grab your phone and check it.

Yeonjun: Still awake? You: Go to sleep. Yeonjun: I meant what I said. I’m not letting this go.

You stare at your screen.

And for the first time, you’re not sure if you want him to.

Yeonjun sighs when he sees no response from you. He barely sleeps that night. Your words echo in his head, looping like a broken record.

"This isn’t a drama, Yeonjun. You have your career. I have a job to do."

But you didn’t deny it. You didn’t say he was wrong, and that’s enough to push him forward.

So the next morning, he does something reckless.

He walks straight into HYBE’s office and demands a meeting.

The higher-ups look at him with wary expressions, already sensing trouble.

“If this is about your bodyguard—” one of them starts, but Yeonjun cuts them off.

“I need to talk to you about Y/N.”

A long silence.

One of the executives sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Yeonjun—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Yeonjun interrupts, crossing his arms. “That it’s unprofessional. That it’s bad for my image. That fans see bodyguards as untouchable. That if this gets out, it could ruin things for both of us.”

He meets each of their gazes head-on.

“I don’t care.”

Another silence.

Someone clears their throat. “Yeonjun—”

“I don’t care if people get mad,” he continues firmly. “I don’t care if it costs me fans. I don’t care about any of that.”

The words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

“She’s not just my bodyguard.”

That gets their attention.

One of the higher-ups raises an eyebrow. “Then what is she?”

Yeonjun doesn’t hesitate.

“She’s someone I’m not willing to lose.”

A heavier silence fills the room.

The company doesn’t outright reject him.

But they don’t agree, either. “Yeonjun,” one of them says carefully, “you’re asking us to take a risk.”

He doesn’t waver. “Then take it.”

The executives exchange looks. “We’ll… consider it.”

That’s all he gets, but it’s enough. For now.

You start pulling away.

It’s subtle at first. Small, barely noticeable shifts in behavior.

You stop responding to his late-night texts. You keep conversations brief, strictly professional. You take extra steps to create distance, ensuring nothing about your relationship can be misinterpreted.

Yeonjun notices.

And he hates it.

But he doesn’t get the chance to fix it before everything goes wrong.

It’s late after a music show recording.

Yeonjun is heading out through a private parking lot exit, an area usually low-risk. Most of the security has already left with the other members, and only a few staff linger, packing up equipment.

You do your usual scan.

Everything looks fine.

Then—

Something feels off.

You can’t pinpoint why at first.

A figure near the exit, wearing a staff badge, carrying a clipboard. They look normal—like any other employee wrapping up for the night.

But then they shift, adjusting their sleeve.

That’s when you see it.

A flash of silver.

Knife.

Your body reacts before your mind fully registers it.

They lunge.

Straight for Yeonjun.

You shove him back—hard—causing him to stumble against the car.

The knife swings forward, slashing through the air—missing him but slicing into your arm instead.

Pain sears through you, hot and sharp.

But you don’t flinch.

The attacker lunges again, wild with desperation.

This time, you catch their wrist mid-swing, twisting sharply.

A strangled cry—then the distinct sound of metal clattering to the pavement.

Before they can react, you drive them back with brutal efficiency, slamming them against the car and pinning them down.

Security floods in seconds later, tackling the sasaeng to the ground.

But Yeonjun doesn’t see any of that.

His eyes are locked on you.

More specifically—

The blood dripping from your sleeve.

He’s in front of you in an instant, grabbing your arm.

His hands are shaking.

“Are you hurt?” His voice is rough, like he’s forcing the words out.

You glance at the wound. The cut is deep but not life-threatening.

“It’s nothing.”

Yeonjun’s grip tightens.

“You—” His voice cracks. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

Something about that fact seems to break him.

Because this is the moment he knows.

Knows that you care more about protecting him than yourself.

Knows that he can’t lose you.

Knows that this isn’t just one-sided anymore.

The world finds out.

You wake up to your phone buzzing non-stop. Texts, calls, notifications flooding in so fast you can’t keep up.

At first, you think it’s just company business.

Then you see the headlines.

“Yeonjun’s Bodyguard Takes Down Armed Attacker.”“Who Is the Woman Protecting Choi Yeonjun?”“Should an Idol’s Safety Rely on Someone Getting Hurt?”

Your stomach drops.

Someone must have leaked the security footage.

The video is everywhere—shared across social media, dissected by news sites, blowing up on forums. It’s grainy but clear enough to show exactly what happened.

The moment you shoved Yeonjun out of harm’s way. The flash of the knife. The way you barely hesitated before putting yourself between him and the attacker.

And most importantly—

Yeonjun’s expression when he saw you bleeding.

A mix of horror, panic, and something deeper.

Something that the entire world is analyzing now.

You scroll through the trending topics.

#YeonjunBodyguard#TXTProtectionFail#WhoIsShe#HYBEStatementWhen

Fans are in full meltdown mode.

Some are in awe.

“She took a KNIFE for him???”“That was straight out of an action movie. Who is this woman??”“I’ve never been more invested in a staff member before.”

Some are furious.

“How could security be this sloppy??”“Idols should not be relying on their bodyguards to get HURT.”“HYBE needs to do better.”

And, of course—

Some have already begun shipping you.

“Tell me I’m not the only one seeing the tension between them.”“The way Yeonjun looked at her?? I felt that.”“They have main couple in a k-drama energy. I’m sorry.”

You exhale sharply, locking your phone.

This is exactly what you didn’t want.

Your job isn’t to be in the spotlight. You were supposed to blend in, stay in the background, do your work without anyone noticing.

This?

This is a disaster.

You need air.

You slip away to the company rooftop, hoping for a moment of silence, away from the chaos.

The city sprawls out below, glittering under the night sky. It should be calming.

But all you can think about is the fallout.

The company will have to address this. They’ll want to “manage the narrative,” keep things from spiraling out of control.

They’ll probably pull you from Yeonjun’s security detail. Maybe even reassign you completely.

You should be relieved.

This is what you wanted, right?

Then why does it feel like a knot is tightening in your chest?

You don’t hear Yeonjun approach, but you feel his presence before he speaks.

“You saved me.”

His voice is soft, but there’s something raw underneath it.

You don’t turn. “It’s my job.”

“No.”

This time, it’s firmer.

You feel him step closer.

“That wasn’t just your job.”

Silence.

A heavy, suffocating silence.

Then—

“That’s the problem,” you admit quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t hesitate.”

The words linger in the air, heavier than you intended.

Because you know what they mean.

You weren’t just protecting an artist.

You were protecting him.

Not out of duty, not out of obligation—

But because you couldn’t not protect him.

You hear Yeonjun inhale sharply, like he’s about to say something.

You finally turn to face him.

His expression is unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes say everything.

There’s frustration. Worry. Relief.

And something else.

Something you’re terrified to acknowledge.

Yeonjun takes another step forward, closing the space between you.

“I don’t want to pretend this is nothing anymore.” His voice is quiet, but there’s a determination behind it that makes your stomach twist.

“Yeonjun…” You shake your head. “Your career…”

His jaw clenches.

“You think I care about that?”

You open your mouth, but he doesn’t let you speak.

“Do you know what went through my head when I saw you bleeding?” His voice is rough, like the words are being dragged out of him. “I didn’t care about the cameras. The fans. The company. I didn’t give a shit about any of it.”

He exhales sharply. “All I could think was, what if it was worse?”

“Then it would’ve been worse.”

“But what if I lost you?”

You stay silent. Something tightens in your chest.

“I know this isn’t just me.” Yeonjun’s voice softens slightly. “And I know you’re scared.”

His gaze flickers over your face, as if trying to read your thoughts.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he says, almost pleading.

You can’t.

You should.

But you can’t, because he’s right. You don’t answer and Yeonjun smiles. It’s soft. Triumphant.

Like he finally has the confirmation he’s been waiting for. His voice drops to a whisper. “Good.”

Because now? He’s not letting you go.

Yeonjun doesn’t wait.

The next morning, he storms into HYBE’s main office, eyes burning with determination. He doesn’t ask for a meeting. He demands one.

The executives barely have time to process before he’s seated at the head of the long conference table, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“If you want me to keep working, I need her here,” he says bluntly.

Silence.

The board members glance at one another, their expressions tense.

One of them sighs. “Yeonjun, we understand you’re in a difficult position, but—”

“My position isn’t difficult,” he interrupts. “It’s simple.”

His voice is calm, but there’s a weight behind it. A finality.

“You’re asking us to take a risk,” another executive says cautiously.

Yeonjun doesn’t blink. “Then take it.”

They hesitate.

“If dating rumors spread, it could damage your career.”

“Your image will take a hit.”

“Fans see bodyguards as untouchable. If this gets out, it could ruin things for both of you.”

Yeonjun exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Then we don’t let it get out.”

Another silence.

“Or,” he says, leaning forward, “we handle it together.”

For the first time, the executives actually seem to consider it.

And Yeonjun knows he’s winning.

The call comes in less than an hour later.

When you step into the private meeting room, you already know what’s coming.

The HR rep sitting across from you folds their hands neatly, expression unreadable.

“We’ve discussed the situation,” they say. “And there are two options.”

You nod, waiting.

“Option one: You transfer out of Yeonjun’s security detail. You remain with HYBE but will no longer have any contact with him.”

A clean break.

A professional solution.

A suffocating, miserable choice.

You swallow. “And option two?”

The HR rep exhales.

“You resign completely.”

Your stomach clenches.

Of course.

Keep your job but lose Yeonjun. Or leave everything.

They think they’ve backed you into a corner.

And maybe they have.

But before you can answer—

Before you can decide—

Yeonjun makes the decision for you.

You sit stiffly in the HR meeting room, hands folded in your lap, trying to keep your expression neutral.

The air is tense.

Across from you, two HR representatives sit with carefully blank expressions, as if they aren’t about to completely change your life.

“We understand that Yeonjun is insisting on keeping you around,” one of them says, adjusting their glasses. “But let’s be clear—this is an unprecedented situation.”

You nod once, waiting.

“It’s crucial that you maintain strict professionalism.”

“Understood.”

“Any slip-ups, any public incidents, any unprofessional behavior—” The HR rep folds their hands together. “And we’ll have to revisit this arrangement.”

Translation: One mistake, and you’re out.

You keep your face blank, but your stomach is in knots.

It’s not like you didn’t expect this. You knew there would be consequences, knew the company would want to keep control.

But hearing it laid out so coldly makes your throat feel tight.

“Do you have any questions?”

You open your mouth—to say no, to accept their terms, to pretend none of this is affecting you—

A knock on the door.

The HR reps frown slightly, glancing at each other. “Come in.”

The door cracks open.

And standing there, looking half-apologetic, half-panicked—

Is Soobin.

Your brows furrow. Soobin isn’t the type to interrupt meetings unless it’s serious.

He clears his throat, stepping inside. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, but…” His eyes flick to you. “You might want to see this.”

Your stomach twists.

“What is it?” one of the HR reps asks, unimpressed.

Soobin hesitates, then sighs and just turns his phone screen toward you.

And on it was a Weverse Live.

Yeonjun’s Weverse Live.

You blink.

He’s sitting there in their practice room, casually reading fan comments, TXT members lounging in the background.

And then—

A fan question pops up.

“Oppa, what do you think of your bodyguard? She was so cool!”

Your heart stops.

Because instead of dodging the question—

Instead of laughing it off—

Yeonjun smirks and reads it out loud.

And then, smoothly, “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. She's practically 99.9% my type.”

You sit there, frozen.

Completely. Frozen.

Soobin shifts awkwardly. “Yeah, so… uh… that just happened.”

The HR reps look deeply unamused.

You are going to kill him.

The next morning, HYBE holds an emergency meeting.

You already know what’s coming.

But this time, you don’t walk in alone.

Yeonjun is waiting for you outside the boardroom.

When he sees you approaching, he doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches you carefully, as if making sure you’re really here.

Then, he holds out his hand.

You hesitate. Not because you don’t want to take it, but because you know what it means. But then you remember—

“You’re not alone in it anymore.”

So, in front of the entire executive board, you take it.

The tension in the room is palpable when you step inside.

The executives take one look at your intertwined hands and exchange wary glances.

Someone clears their throat. “Yeonjun—”

But he cuts them off immediately. “I’ll save you the trouble of trying to decide for me.” His voice is calm. Unshakable. “I’ve thought about everything. The risks, the consequences, the backlash.”

His grip on your hand tightens slightly. “And I still choose her.”

Silence.

One of the higher-ups sighs, rubbing their temples.

“You understand what this could mean for your image, right?”

Yeonjun shrugs. “Then my image changes.”

The executives look at each other again, clearly unhappy.

“You’re really willing to risk it?” one of them asks.

Yeonjun tilts his head.

“I don’t see it as a risk.”

A longer pause.

After a heavy discussion, the company settles on a compromise.

They won’t announce the relationship, but they won’t force you apart either.

“Be discreet,” an executive warns.

Yeonjun grins. “Sure.”

The meeting ends.

And the second you step out of the boardroom, Yeonjun pulls you aside.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, voice softer now.

You let out a slow breath. “I think so.”

You’re exhausted. Emotionally drained, but also relieved.

Because after everything, you’re still here.

With him.

Yeonjun watches you carefully, eyes scanning your face for any hesitation. Any doubt.

And when he finds none, he moves.

Slowly, deliberately.

He lifts a hand, cupping your cheek.

Your heart stutters.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers.

You don’t and that’s all he needs.

Yeonjun leans in and kisses you.

It’s soft at first, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind.

But when you don’t pull away, when your hands grip his hoodie and pull him closer—

The hesitation vanishes.

Yeonjun tilts his head, deepening the kiss, his other arm wrapping firmly around your waist.

You feel the tension in his body—weeks, months of restraint finally breaking.

It’s intoxicating.

And for the first time since all of this started—

You let yourself want this.

Want him.

When you finally pull apart, Yeonjun rests his forehead against yours, grinning.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I think that was worth the risk.”

You huff out a laugh, breathless. “Shut up.”

Yeonjun just smirks and kisses you again.

Months later, things settle down.

There’s still speculation—fans aren’t stupid. Some of them have noticed the way Yeonjun smiles at his phone more often, the way he disappears at odd hours, the way he subtly glances at security whenever you’re near.

But there’s no official confirmation, and that’s exactly how HYBE wants it. Still, you and Yeonjun fall into an easy rhythm. Sneaky dates, teasing banter, late-night texts.

Yeonjun: So are we, like, officially dating? You: What do you think? Yeonjun: I think I love you. You: …Block. Yeonjun: Not a no… Y/N: HUH?? Y/N: NO Y/N: JUN NO Y/N: N O Y/N: I DIDN’T SAY YES Y/N: HELLO???

You see no response.

Your heart drops.

"He wouldn't actually—" No, he would. He absolutely would.

You don’t hesitate to sprint straight to the elevator, mashing the button to his floor.

You barge into the dorm without knocking.

“CHOI YEONJUN, YOUR ASS BETTER NOT BE—”

You freeze, slapping a hand over your mouth because there he is.

Sitting casually in his dorm.

On Weverse Live.

LIVE.

RIGHT NOW.

Yeonjun turns toward the camera, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh, perfect timing,” he says smoothly, as if he didn’t just commit career suicide.“My baby’s here.”

The chat… explodes.

“BABY?????” “who???” “HELLO EXCUSE ME?” “Who’s voice was that??” “WHO’S HE TALKING TO.”

You’re frozen in horror. Your mind is racing at a thousand miles per hour, probably even faster than the chat in his live.

Yeonjun, meanwhile, is as relaxed as ever. He waves you over. “C’mon, don’t be shy now. You were loud just a second ago.”

You stare at him like he’s lost his mind.

Because he has. This man is actually insane.

You lunge forward and smack his arm.

Yeonjun laughs. Actually laughs. “Kidding! Kidding! Relax, baby.”

He turns back to the camera, completely unbothered.

“She’s shy, guys. Let’s not scare her off.”

You cannot believe what is happening. You grab his phone and end the live immediately. Then you whirl it at him.

"WHAT. IS. WRONG. WITH. YOU."

Yeonjun just grins. “So, is this how you wanna soft-launch? Or should I post a couple pic?”

You throw a pillow at his face.

He dodges, laughing.

And despite everything—despite the chaos and absolute madness of the situation— You find yourself smiling.

Yeonjun catches it immediately. His expression softens, amusement melting into something sincere. He steps forward, reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“You’re stuck with me, you know?” he murmurs.

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, gaze gentle.

Your chest tightens. You exhale, shaking your head.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I like you.”

Yeonjun winks.

“I know.”

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: Just a smaller fic than usual since I've been busy with school so pls enjoy still teehee~ Not my best but I just wanted to put something out after being inactive. Thank you to my bb nina @apeachty for beta-reading this <3 Will definitely be writing something else longer soon~

Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @i-like-to-read-at-4am @imlonelydontsendhelp @ode2soob @pagelets @isjsnsjsn

[certified-ni-ki-lover]

“Oh love, don’t worry you don’t need him, I’m all you’ll ever need. In this life, the next & even in the afterlife.” (YANDERE)

TXT Taehyun Oneshot

Summary: You & your fiancé decided to go look for houses to buy & your fiancé stumbled upon a gorgeous house that was a little away from the busy city. You both decided to take a little road trip to go check it out but due to unfortunate circumstances, you would have to stay there for a while. But during this time you learned something very disturbing about the owner.

Word Count: 1230

TW: Mentions of abuse, blood, death, yandere behavior, & obsessive behavior

Disclaimer: This is all purely for entertainment purposes. I don't promote or support any Yandere behaviors

MASTERLIST

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .

You & your fiancé, Yeonjun had just gotten engaged a few months ago. You were planning on getting married next year after you got everything settled. So, you both were looking for a house right now & a few days ago when Yoenjun came back from work he said he had seen a beautiful house. It was old but had a lot of potential. & he assured you that once you were all done with all the repairs & redecoration it would be your dream home. Plus it was a great deal. So you both were packing so you could go down & check it out before you put in an offer.

When you reached the place, you could tell that the house was really old, & you couldn’t help but wonder why the owner wanted to sell it cause it looked like it had a lot of value to it. At least six times the price that was offered, minimum.

You both made your way in through the gate & were checking out the back of the house, where the garden was when it started raining heavily. So Yeonjun gave you his jacket & knocked on the door to get away from the rain. Yeonjun went to knock on the door but found it was open, so you went inside. You were met with someone sitting with their back towards you facing the fireplace. “& who might you be,” a cold voice asked. It sent shivers down your spine but you ignored it. “We’re the Chois, I talked to you over the phone about buying this house,” Yoenjun said. That’s when the man turned towards you, he observed every detail of your face, staring at you for a while. His face seemed very familiar to you but you swore you had never seen him before. “Ah yes,” I remember he said still not taking his eyes off you. His stare was slightly creeping you out so you held Yeonjun’s hand thighter. The stranger's gaze fell towards your intertwined hands & you could have sworn you saw a flame in them but they were so quick to go that Yeonjun didn’t even notice them.

After a quick tour around the house, Yeonjun fell in love with it & you liked it as well. But you the whole time you were here you had been having a severe case of déjà vu. Like you’ve been here before & seen this guy before, but no matter how hard you tried to remember you couldn’t & it was creeping you out.

“Well how did you like it” the owner asked his eyes looking directly into yours, still keeping a cold poker face. “Um it’s lovely” you replied looking away since the eye contact was making you uncomfortable. “Since it’s still raining with no sign of stopping time soon, I suggest you spend the night here, it’s much too dangerous to go back,” he said. You did not want to stay in this house with this man. He was creepy. But before you could object Yeonjun jumped in & agreed smiling. “Very well then,” he said “I’ll ask the butler to arrange two rooms for you” “Two?” you asked. “Yes,” he replied “I don’t think we’ll need two rooms, Yeonjun & I can just sleep together,” you said. You didn’t feel safe sleeping alone in this house so you wanted your fiancé beside you. “Certainly not,” he said sternly “Why not?” you asked slightly annoyed. “Cause that wouldn’t be acceptable” “Sweetheart, it’s fine, let’s not make him mad” Yeonjun whispered to you. “If you're done, we can head done for dinner now,” he said walking down the stairs.

Dinner was awkward, you didn’t dare start a conversation with him so to get rid of the uncomfortable silence Yeonjun started a conversation. “You know come to think of it we never got a chance to properly introduce ourselves,” he said laughing slightly. “I’m Choi Yeonjun & this is my beautiful fiancé Y/N,” he said smiling. “Kang Taehyun” he said.

You’ve heard that name before. This whole sense of déjà vu had been lasting you the whole day & it was starting to drive you crazy. You knew you’d never been here or ever had any interactions with this man before but then why did it all seem so familiar?

Pushing your thoughts away you went up to the room that was instructed by Taehyun & Yeonjun went to his which was all the way down the hall. You got into bed & the moment your head hit the pillow you slowly started to drift to sleep.

Suddenly around midnight you heard a scream & jolted awake. It was Yeonjun. Your heart started beating fast & you threw the covers off you & rushed to his room. You found him on the floor, with Taehyun above him with a knife that was dripping in blood. He had stabbed him in the stomach.

Your eyes went wide in shock. You started at Taehyun, who looked nothing like he did before. He had a psychotic look in his eye & a wide smile. “Hi love, nice of you to join us,” he said smiling towards you. “W-wh-why are you do-doing this?” you stammered, hands shaking & tears flowing down your cheeks. “BECAUSE OF YOU!” he screamed “Wh-what,” you asked. “Don’t you remember Y/N? You’re my wife” he said “I don’t know what you're talking about” “Yes you do,” he replied, his grip around Yeonjun’s neck getting tighter, “We’ve been married for 107 years Y/N” he said “That was until you thought you could get away from me & killed your self” he said glaring at you.

You were speechless. It all made sense now, why you felt this place was so familiar. Cause it was. You can remember everything now. How he killed all your family members. Brought you to this unknown place. Hide you away from civilization. Forced you to marry him. Abused you physically & mentally if you refused to do anything he asked. No matter how many times you had died before he had always managed to find you. This time was different it took him too long to find you. & when he did find you & saw that someone had taken you away, something that belonged to him, he couldn't let that happen. So here he was, getting rid of the problem. Yeonjun. It was because of him it took so long to find you. So many miserable lonely years he spent without you in his arms, all while someone else had you in their filthy arms. He couldn’t take it anymore. He just had to have you.

“Listen Taehyun,” you said, tears still coming from your eyes, “if you let Yeonjun go, I promise I’ll stay with you here for as long as you want” “Really” he asked with a wide smile that gave you goosebumps. “Yes,” you said trembling. “& you won’t ever leave me for this worthless piece of trash?” he asked “Never” you replied. “Very good then,” he said smiling, You smiled back at him. But then in a swift motion, he sliced his neck & Yeonjun’s lifeless body dropped done. You screamed & started sobbing. “Oh love, don’t worry you don’t need him, I’m all you’ll ever need. In this life, the next & even in the afterlife.”

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .

This took me so long to write😭but hope you enjoyed reading🖤

[gyuwari]

sparks

═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══

beomgyu x reader (ft ex!yeonjun)

this one hurt to write but i couldn’t get this thought out of my head

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

warnings: angst, sad but w/ happy ending :)

synopsis: you, yn, are a popular streamer who is famous for singing on lives. your (ex) boyfriend, yeonjun, broke your heart and while grieving your breakup you decide to perform a song you wrote for him.

insp: sparks by coldplay

wc: 900+

═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══

you set up your webcam. it was quite dark in your room, the only lighting was the white light from your screen reflecting off of your face.

your right hand found your mouse, hovering over the go live button. “do you really want to do this?” you mumbled to yourself. this could easily make everything worse.

it seemed as though everyone knew about your relationship with yeonjun, meaning everyone would know you wrote this song for him.

he couldn’t hurt you more though, right? you want- no you need him to know how he made you feel. but in the back of your head you knew, he wouldn’t care.

before you could talk (more like think) yourself out of it, you pressed the ‘go live’ button and waited a minute for people to join. in less than a minute you had thousands of viewers, spamming the chat with apologies from yeonjun’s behalf and wishes of good health.

you looked down at your guitar, a pained smile spread across your face. “thank you-“ you cleared your throat, as it had dried up a lot due to your nerves, “thank you for the kind messages. this song is called spark.” and without wasting another second, you began strumming your guitar.

“did i drive you away? i know what you’ll say. you say, ‘oh, sing one we know’”

“but i promise you this, i’ll always look out for you. yeah, that’s what i’ll do.”

“i say oh”

the tears you were trying to hold back began flowing down your cheeks, “i say oh,” your voice cracked.

“my heart is yours. it’s you that i hold on to. yeah, that’s what i do.”

“and i know, i was wrong. but i won’t let you down. oh yeah, yeah, yeah i will, yes, i will.”

“i said, oh.”

“i cry, oh.”

“yeah, i saw sparks. yeah, i saw sparks” it was getting harder to choke back your sobs, “and i saw sparks.”

“yeah, i saw sparks. sing it out.” you continued to strum your guitar, turning your head from your microphone hoping it didn’t pick up on your quiet cries.

once you had finished your song, you couldn’t stop your tears. “i- ‘m sorry.” it was as if you blacked out, the only thing heard was your heartbreakingly loud sobs. your guitar fell off of your lap with a thud.

you stood up and stumbled to your nightstand that housed all of the small presents yeonjun had gifted you over the past few months. framed pictures of you, flowers he had dried and pressed himself, a small clay bear he had sculpted, and though it seemed the most unimpressive of the lot, the origami fox he had folded for you during your first date.

your tears blurred your vision, but that didn’t matter. you angrily swiped your arm across the table, making everything fall and shatter to the floor. your knees buckled unable to hold yourself up, but before you could fall you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around you.

your head was shoved into their chest. you immediately knew who it was. “yn, my sweet yn.” beomgyu’s voice grounded you. your hands gripped his shirt for dear life. you couldn’t speak, when you tried only broken sobs escaped from your lips. “i know, i know. let it out angel, let it all out.” he slowly led you away from the mess on the floor.

you stood in the middle of your room, beomgyu supporting your weight as you leaned into him. he stroked your hair as you continued to cry. “i’m sorry beomgyu.” you sobbed, “i’m so sorry.”

“shh, don’t apologize angel. it’s alright now. i’m here with you.” it hurt to admit, but he was right.

maybe yeonjun meant what he said. maybe you really didn’t mean anything to him. you were just his toy until he got bored of you. he wanted to capture your heart, just to shatter it when he knew you were completely and utterly enamored with him.

but that isn’t all he did to you. he made you realize who was truly there for you. all of the friends he had introduced you to sided with him of course, but you still had your best friend by your side.

beomgyu tried to warn you about what kind of person yeonjun was. how he would find an innocent girl and string them along but you never listened to him. you truly thought you could change yeonjun for the better.

“i should’ve listened to you from the beginning.” you mumbled, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“yeah. you should’ve.” you scoffed, slapping his chest gently. a large grin found its way onto beomgyu’s face.

“shut up!” you giggled quietly.

“you know,” his hand cupped your face, tilting your head to look him in the eyes, “you should also listen to me when i say the perfect guy for you is right in front of you.”

your eyes widened in shock, “w-what..?” before you could question him further, he pressed his lips against yours. your eyes fluttered closed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

he pulled away, scanning your face trying to figure out what you were thinking. your hand found it’s way to your lips, touching them in disbelief. without another thought, you slammed your lips against his.

before you could fully enjoy your moment with beomgyu, you remember something, making you jump away from beomgyu horrified. “what? what’s wrong?” his brows were furrowed, thinking you were regretting kissing him.

you rushed to your computer, “i’m still live!”

.・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・.

a/n: wahhh it feels so good posting again :) this one has been in my drafts for so long!! i was going to make it an entire fic itself but i couldn't write the plot efficiently :( but i like how this one shot turned out :D i was gna keep it a sad ending but i couldn't do that to y'all esp since i abandoned you guys for months (sorry again!!)

i hope you enjoyed :)

!!tagging w song recs taglist, pls dm/send an ask to be removed/added from my perm taglist!!

taglist:

@soobin-chois @sulkii @hellosenn @bbeomies @letmeal0ne @theoskies @park-jimin97 @yeombin @princess-katara @squiishymeow @en-boyz @bettyschwallocksyee

[xylatox]

Guard My Heart | cyj

Another Rei fic, I'm going to scream AND it's Yeonjun, life doesn't get any better than this!!

I already love their first interaction like their dynamic is immediately wonderful.

You blink. “That depends. If someone lunges at you, do you want me to ask for permission first?”— I love how sassy reader is, she's so cute.

You adjust the earpiece in your ear, still walking. “If you fall and crack your head, I am not responsible.” — I laughed this caught me off guard 😭

He “accidentally” walks into the wrong dressing room before a shoot ,you yank him out by the hood.— I absolutely love this.

Im so in love with reader, I absolutely love her personality, it's like my favorite thing ever.

Also that entire moment with everyone where Gyu comments thet should be dating?? I love it, this makes me so happy.

Yeonjun: I professionally think you have a nice face.— WHAT IF I DIED. Also reader's response is so me, I have such a 0 tolerance for men irl it's kind of hilarious

Also I'm loving the progression, like despite reader's responses being the same deadpan way, we still see their relationship blossom, so slowly but it's endearing yknow.

Yeonjun steps closer. Not too much, but enough that the air between you suddenly feels thinner. “Don’t act like you didn’t feel it.” His voice is lower now, more serious. “Because I know I did.”— I'm going to scream

Also, the way Jjun fights for reader, from the moment he realize he had feelings, to the altercation with the sasaeng to the aftermath where he further shows his position on willing to risk everything for reader especially since she never denied having feelings, like I'll cry.

ALSO THE LIVE??? love that for him oh my god. The kiss im !!!! this feels so Yeonjun coded tho.

Also the second live??? omg😭 I absolutely loved this. I always love a Rei fic (even when you kill me with angst) and Jjun, I'm such a happy camper rn :))

Guard My Heart | C.YJ

Pairing: idol!yeonjun x bodyguard fem!reader Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, Comedy Warnings:: sasaeng encounter, mentions of a knife, might've missed something

Summary: Yeonjun was supposed to be just another assignment—another idol to guard, another job to do. But from the moment you meet, he makes it his personal mission to get under your skin. With his endless teasing, late-night antics, and shameless need for attention, he tests your patience at every turn. No matter how much you try to keep things professional, he just won’t let up. But somewhere between playful bickering, stolen snacks, and texts that definitely aren’t work-related, you start to wonder… Who’s really guarding who?

Word count: 6.3k

You expected your new assignment to be difficult.

After all, guarding a top idol—especially one as famous as Choi Yeonjun—was never going to be easy. Fans could be unpredictable, the media relentless, and sasaengs downright dangerous. But you had handled tough clients before. You were trained for this.

What you weren’t expecting was this.

Yeonjun, sitting across from you in the HYBE conference room, arms folded, lips pursed in barely concealed dissatisfaction. His bright red hair catches the fluorescent light, making him look even more dramatic as he narrows his eyes at you.

“This is a joke, right? This is my new bodyguard?” he asks, voice laced with amusement. His sharp eyes scan you from head to toe, analyzing, testing. His lips twitch like he’s holding back laughter. 

You don’t react.

“No offense,” he continues, looking you up and down. “But you’re... you know. Small.”

Still, you don’t react.

Yeonjun leans forward, elbows on the table, clearly testing. “Are you even qualified?”

You blink at him. “Try me.”

For a split second, surprise flashes across his face. Then, to your dismay, his lips curl into a grin.

“Oh, I like you already,” he muses, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You resist the urge to sigh. This is going to be a long assignment.

The manager clears his throat. “Choi Yeonjun, this is Y/N. She’ll be assigned to you for the duration of your solo promotions. Given the increase in sasaeng activity, HYBE has decided that personal security for solo schedules is a priority.”

“Right,” Yeonjun hums, leaning back. “So what, she’s gonna follow me around all the time?”

“Yes,” you reply before the manager can. “I’ll be present at all your schedules, guarding your exits, and ensuring your safety. I’ll also be stationed a few floors below your dorm for emergencies.”

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, looking almost impressed by your no-nonsense tone.

“So you’re really serious about this, huh?”

You don’t answer.

Yeonjun exhales, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. Let’s set some ground rules then, shall we?”

You nod, waiting.

“One,” he holds up a finger. “No invading my personal space.”

You blink. “That depends. If someone lunges at you, do you want me to ask for permission first?”

He chuckles. “Okay, fair. But if I want to, I don’t know, get some late-night food, you’re not gonna be a buzzkill about it, right?”

You meet his gaze. “For your safety, here’s how this is going to work,” you say, arms crossed as you brief him and his manager. “You will not go anywhere without me. No sneaking off, no last-minute changes in schedule, and absolutely no ditching security.”

Yeonjun hums thoughtfully, tilting his head. “So you’re basically my shadow now?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “You will contact me if anything feels off. Only if something feels wrong. Understood?”

He pouts dramatically. “No fun.”

“This isn’t about fun,” you reply, deadpan. “It’s about safety.”

His eyes gleam with mischief. “We’ll see.”

Yeonjun doesn’t waste any time.

The moment your official duties begin, he takes it upon himself to make them as insufferable as possible.

It starts small.

He walks too fast, then too slow.

You keep pace effortlessly, adjusting without complaint.

Then he fake trips.

You don’t react.

He catches himself—gracefully, of course—and glances at you expectantly, waiting for some sort of acknowledgment.

Nothing.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “You weren’t even gonna try to catch me?”

You adjust the earpiece in your ear, still walking. “If you fall and crack your head, I am not responsible.”

Yeonjun grins. “She speaks!”

You give him a sidelong glance. “Only when necessary.”

He grins. “Good to know.”

For the rest of the afternoon, he keeps trying.

He pretends to get lost inside the HYBE building, just to see if you’ll panic, you don’t.

He “accidentally” walks into the wrong dressing room before a shoot ,you yank him out by the hood.

He even tries to make you laugh by doing ridiculous dances in the hallway.

Nothing works. But he’s determined.

Later that night, you’re posted near the dorm elevator when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye.

You don’t have to turn your head to know exactly who it is.

Choi Yeonjun, dressed in all black like a wannabe spy, creeping toward the doors like he isn’t being completely obvious.

You wait until his finger hovers over the elevator button before speaking.

“If you press that button, I will escort you back to your dorm immediately.”

Yeonjun jumps slightly, spinning around.

“You are way too quiet,” he complains, clutching his chest dramatically.

You cross your arms. “And you are way too obvious.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “C’mon, miss bodyguard. I’m just getting snacks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Alone?”

His lips twitch. “Guess you’ll just have to come with me.”

You exhale through your nose, weighing your options. It’s not technically a high-risk situation. The building is secure. He’s wearing a mask and cap.

“…Fine.”

Yeonjun’s eyes light up like he’s just won the lottery.

Minutes later, you find yourselves on a rooftop, a plastic bag of snacks between you. The city glows below, the hum of distant traffic filling the silence.

For the first time since meeting him, Yeonjun isn’t talking.

And strangely, it isn’t uncomfortable.

You don’t say anything either, letting the quiet settle between you.

Eventually, Yeonjun breaks the silence with a hum of amusement.

“You know,” he muses, tearing open a bag of chips, “you don’t hate me as much as you pretend to.”

You glance at him. “I never said I hated you.”

He tilts his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. “No, but you try really hard to act like you don’t care.”

You don’t respond. Yeonjun doesn’t push.

After escorting him on his late night escapade and heading back to your respective dorms, your phone vibrates. 

Yeonjun: I kinda bought too many snacks, want some?You: Go to sleep.Yeonjun: A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would sufficeYou: No.Yeonjun: LiarrrrYou: Goodnight.

You stare at the screen for a moment before shaking your head, tossing the phone onto your nightstand.

This job is going to be exhausting.

The next few days, Yeonjun seems to make it his personal mission to get under your skin.

It starts with little things.

When walking ahead of you, he suddenly slows down—forcing you to either walk beside him or come to an awkward halt.

When you side-step to keep your usual position behind him, he mirrors you, making it obvious that he’s doing it on purpose.

You ignore it.

Then, he starts talking.

“Why are you always so serious?” he asks one morning on the way to a recording.

You don’t answer immediately.

“Why are you always talking?” you counter after a beat.

Yeonjun grins, as if pleased that you responded at all. “Because I want to know what makes you tick.”

You give him nothing.

He leans in slightly. “Are you secretly in love with me?”

You don’t even blink. “Are you secretly incapable of shutting up?”

Beomgyu, who’s been watching from the side, nearly chokes on his water.

Yeonjun gapes at you before breaking into a wide grin. “Oh, you’re good.”

You roll your eyes and walk ahead.

He follows, laughing to himself. He’s definitely going to crack you.

“Honestly, at this point, you two might as well just start dating,” Beomgyu teases one afternoon.

You’re in the practice room, watching the members rehearse.

Yeonjun, who’s taking a water break, wipes sweat from his brow and smirks. “Honey, what do you think?”

He looks right at you.

You meet his gaze with a deadpan expression. “Sure , but I get half your paycheck.”

Soobin spits out his drink.

Taehyun straight-up claps.

Beomgyu gasps in delight. “Wait—she’s kind of scary. I like her.”

Yeonjun… turns red.

“Oh my god,” Kai laughs, pointing. “He’s actually blushing.”

“Shut up,” Yeonjun grumbles, but the tips of his ears are undeniably pink.

Later that night, your phone vibrates.

Yeonjun: So do you want it in cash or bank transfer?You: Stop texting me.Yeonjun: That’s not a no.

You toss your phone aside.

This man is exhausting.

And yet, a tiny—dangerous—part of you is starting to find it entertaining.

It happens a few days later.

Yeonjun is mid-conversation with a staff member when he catches himself watching you.

The way you quietly scan the crowd at the filming site. The way your head tilts slightly when you’re focused. The way your fingers tap against your leg, subtle but rhythmic, like a habit.

Why am I noticing these things?

He shakes himself out of it, forcing himself back into the conversation.

It’s nothing.

Just curiosity.

Right?

It’s after a music show recording when it happens.

Another male idol—someone from another group—sidles up to you while you’re standing near the dressing room entrance.

“Hey, you’re Yeonjun’s bodyguard, right?” he asks, leaning in slightly. “That’s kinda cool.”

You don’t react. “Can I help you?”

The idol grins. “Just wondering if you’re off-duty later. Maybe we could—”

A hand lands on your shoulder.

Yeonjun.

“She’s with me,” he says smoothly, his arm sliding around you with practiced ease.

The idol blinks. “Oh. My bad, man—”

Yeonjun just smiles, a little too sharp. “No worries.”

The moment the guy walks away, you step out of Yeonjun’s grasp, crossing your arms.

“What was that?”

He shrugs. “Just making sure you weren’t uncomfortable.”

You study him for a moment before shaking your head. “You’re weird.”

Yeonjun just grins.

Later that night—

Yeonjun: I was pretty cool today, huh?You: No.Yeonjun: LiesssssYeonjun: Hey, random question…You: What?Yeonjun: If I was kidnapped, would you pay the ransom to rescue me?You: That depends. How much are they asking for?Yeonjun: ???You: If it’s less than my monthly salary, then no.Yeonjun: That’s so cold. I thought we were getting closer.You: This is a professional relationship.Yeonjun: I professionally think you have a nice face.You: Block.

Yeonjun laughs, tossing his phone onto his bed.

This is definitely going to be fun.

You should’ve seen it coming.

Yeonjun has been running on fumes for days—back-to-back schedules, late-night practices, barely any sleep. His body was bound to give out eventually.

Still, when you walk into the dorm and find him curled up on the couch like a half-dead sloth, it’s… unsettling.

“Are you dying?” you ask flatly, setting your bag down.

Yeonjun groans, burying his face deeper into the blanket draped over his head. “Feels like it.” His voice is hoarse, thick with congestion. “Can’t move. Just leave me here. Tell my fans I love them.”

You roll your eyes.

“Did you take medicine?”

A vague grunt.

“Did you eat?”

Another grunt.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I swear to god—”

He groans again, more dramatic this time. “I can’t eat. My throat hurts. I’m weak. Frail. Delicate.”

You sigh and disappear into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, you return with a steaming cup of tea and place it on the table in front of him. “Drink.”

Yeonjun cracks one eye open. “You made me tea?”

“I am contractually obligated to keep you alive,” you deadpan.

He smirks weakly. “You care about me.”

You shove the tea closer. “Drink it before I pour it on your head.”

Yeonjun chuckles but obeys, taking a slow sip. His eyes slip shut as he swallows. “Damn. That’s actually good.”

You cross your arms. “Maybe if you start listening to me like a good patient, you’ll recover faster.”

He peeks up at you with a lopsided grin. “You sound like my mom.”

Without missing a beat, you fire back, “Then start listening to me like a good son.”

For a moment, Yeonjun just blinks at you.

A slow, mischievous smirk spreads across his lips.

“Oooh,” he hums, voice teasing. “You have a mommy kink?”

You shove the tea back into his hands so fast he nearly spills it.

“Drink.”

He laughs through his coughs but does as he’s told.

Later when you leave his dorm, he’s already buzzing your phone.

Yeonjun: So when do I get more tea from my mommy? You: Never texting you again.

It starts as a joke.

You’re standing at the edge of the practice room, watching Yeonjun go through his choreography for an upcoming performance. He moves with effortless precision—fluid, controlled, and stupidly good at what he does.

After a final spin, he shoots you a look through the mirror.

“You should try it.”

You scoff. “I’m your bodyguard, not a backup dancer.”

Yeonjun grins, stepping toward you. “C’mon. Just one move. Super simple.”

“I don’t—”

Before you can finish, he’s grabbing your wrist, tugging you into the center of the room.

“Just follow my lead.”

You sigh, resigning yourself to whatever nonsense this is.

Yeonjun demonstrates a step, slow and exaggerated. “See? Easy.”

You copy him, mimicking his footwork.

He nods approvingly. “Not bad. Now a little faster.”

You repeat the move.

You step forward—directly onto his foot.

Hard.

“OW—” Yeonjun yelps, hopping on one leg. “You actually just—Ow, ow, ow—”

The other members, who had been stretching nearby, burst into laughter.

Beomgyu collapses onto the floor, wheezing. “Bro, she really took you out!”

Yeonjun glares at you, still clutching his foot. “That was personal. I felt it.”

You cross your arms. “I warned you.”

He exhales dramatically, shaking his head. “Okay. Maybe bodyguard work is more your thing.”

You smirk. “Told you.”

His constant texts of nonsense hadn’t stopped, they just got… more creative.

Yeonjun: If I get a paper cut, is that an emergency? You: No. Yeonjun: What if it’s a really bad one? You: Still no. Yeonjun: What if I have an emotional paper cut? You: Blocked. Yeonjun: 😭😭😭

You sigh, dropping your phone onto the table.

This is getting out of control.

Because it doesn’t feel like just a game anymore.

After a long event, you and Yeonjun sit in the company car, exhausted.

The city lights blur past the windows, the hum of the engine filling the silence.

Yeonjun exhales, tilting his head back.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” he murmurs.

You glance at him. “What is?”

“How you’re always here.”

Your fingers twitch slightly against your lap.

“It’s my job,” you say, more to yourself than to him.

“Yeah, but…” He turns his head, eyes settling on you. “It doesn’t feel like just that anymore.”

Your stomach twists. You don’t answer. And Yeonjun doesn’t push but the words linger between you, unspoken.

It happens during a late-night shoot.

The production team has been working for hours, filming Yeonjun’s new solo music video. He was filming a scene where he pours a bottle of water on himself, then proceeds to dance.

But the thing about water? It makes everything slippery.

You’re standing off to the side, scanning the area as Yeonjun films a take. He moves through the scene flawlessly, his body swaying to the beat, charisma practically dripping off him.

Then—

His foot slides.

It happens too fast. One second, he’s perfectly in sync with the music. The next, his balance wavers.

You react instinctively.

Before he can hit the slick ground, you step forward, grabbing his arm and pulling him upright.

Unfortunately, Yeonjun overcorrects.

Momentum carries him forward.

Directly into you.

The world slows as his body crashes into yours, and suddenly, you’re chest-to-chest.

You brace against the impact, hands gripping his shoulders to steady him. His arms instinctively wrap around your waist to keep himself from fully toppling over.

The set falls eerily silent.

It takes a second to register—how close your faces are, how your breaths mingle in the chilly night air, how you can feel the warmth of his hands even through your jacket.

Yeonjun blinks, looking dazed.

Then his gaze flickers down.

Your heart jumps.

There’s something different in his expression—less teasing, more intense.

The weight of it makes your throat go dry.

For a moment, neither of you move.

Neither of you speak.

“Uh…”

A voice breaks the tension.

Beomgyu.

You both snap out of it at the same time, stepping apart so fast it’s almost comical.

Beomgyu, who was standing a few feet away, only having arrived to support Yeonjun, raises an eyebrow. “So… should we leave you two alone, or—?”

“Shut up,” Yeonjun mutters, running a hand through his hair as if that will somehow erase what just happened.

You clear your throat. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun says, still looking a little dazed. Then he exhales a soft laugh. “Guess you really are my bodyguard.”

The teasing is forced. You can tell.

And the way he keeps sneaking glances at you for the rest of the night?

Yeah. You definitely didn’t imagine it.

The tension doesn’t fade.

Even after the shoot wraps, even after the crew starts packing up, even after Beomgyu finally stops wiggling his eyebrows at you from across the set.

You can still feel it.

It lingers in the way Yeonjun keeps glancing at you. The way his jaw tightens every time someone disrupts the silence stretching between you. The way his hands clench like he wants to say something but can’t.

You pretend not to notice.

But of course, Yeonjun doesn’t let things slide that easily.

“Y/N.”

You barely have time to react before he grabs your wrist, tugging you toward a secluded area behind the set. It’s quiet here, away from the lingering staff members and nosy bandmates.

You sigh, already knowing where this is going.

“Yeonjun—”

“What was that?” His voice is quiet but firm. “Back there.”

You fold your arms. “You slipped. I caught you. That’s it.”

He lets out a short laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah? Is that what we’re calling it?”

You don’t respond.

Yeonjun steps closer. Not too much, but enough that the air between you suddenly feels thinner. “Don’t act like you didn’t feel it.” His voice is lower now, more serious. “Because I know I did.”

Your breath catches.

Yeonjun isn’t teasing anymore. There’s no playful smirk, no mischievous glint in his eyes.

Just quiet intensity.

“I don’t know what this is,” he admits, running a hand through his damp hair. “But I know that it’s… something.”

You swallow hard.

“You don’t want to talk about it? Fine,” he continues. “But don’t pretend it’s not there.”

It’s dangerous—the way his words make your resolve crack, the way your heart betrays you by speeding up.

You know what he’s asking.

You know where this road leads.

And you can’t—

You step back.

“This isn’t a drama, Yeonjun,” you say quietly. “You have your career. I have a job to do.”

Yeonjun’s expression flickers—something unreadable, something almost hurt—but he masks it quickly.

For a long moment, he just looks at you.

Then he exhales, a bitter smile ghosting his lips. “Right.”

The word is simple.

But it stings.

You don’t wait for him to say anything else.

You turn and walk away, willing yourself not to look back.

Later that night, you lie in your bed, recalling the events that happened earlier. Yeonjun’s words haunt your mind. 

Buzz!

The sudden vibration brought you back to reality from your thoughts. You grab your phone and check it.

Yeonjun: Still awake? You: Go to sleep. Yeonjun: I meant what I said. I’m not letting this go.

You stare at your screen.

And for the first time, you’re not sure if you want him to.

Yeonjun sighs when he sees no response from you. He barely sleeps that night. Your words echo in his head, looping like a broken record.

"This isn’t a drama, Yeonjun. You have your career. I have a job to do."

But you didn’t deny it. You didn’t say he was wrong, and that’s enough to push him forward.

So the next morning, he does something reckless.

He walks straight into HYBE’s office and demands a meeting.

The higher-ups look at him with wary expressions, already sensing trouble.

“If this is about your bodyguard—” one of them starts, but Yeonjun cuts them off.

“I need to talk to you about Y/N.”

A long silence.

One of the executives sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Yeonjun—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Yeonjun interrupts, crossing his arms. “That it’s unprofessional. That it’s bad for my image. That fans see bodyguards as untouchable. That if this gets out, it could ruin things for both of us.”

He meets each of their gazes head-on.

“I don’t care.”

Another silence.

Someone clears their throat. “Yeonjun—”

“I don’t care if people get mad,” he continues firmly. “I don’t care if it costs me fans. I don’t care about any of that.”

The words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

“She’s not just my bodyguard.”

That gets their attention.

One of the higher-ups raises an eyebrow. “Then what is she?”

Yeonjun doesn’t hesitate.

“She’s someone I’m not willing to lose.”

A heavier silence fills the room.

The company doesn’t outright reject him.

But they don’t agree, either. “Yeonjun,” one of them says carefully, “you’re asking us to take a risk.”

He doesn’t waver. “Then take it.”

The executives exchange looks. “We’ll… consider it.”

That’s all he gets, but it’s enough. For now.

You start pulling away.

It’s subtle at first. Small, barely noticeable shifts in behavior.

You stop responding to his late-night texts. You keep conversations brief, strictly professional. You take extra steps to create distance, ensuring nothing about your relationship can be misinterpreted.

Yeonjun notices.

And he hates it.

But he doesn’t get the chance to fix it before everything goes wrong.

It’s late after a music show recording.

Yeonjun is heading out through a private parking lot exit, an area usually low-risk. Most of the security has already left with the other members, and only a few staff linger, packing up equipment.

You do your usual scan.

Everything looks fine.

Then—

Something feels off.

You can’t pinpoint why at first.

A figure near the exit, wearing a staff badge, carrying a clipboard. They look normal—like any other employee wrapping up for the night.

But then they shift, adjusting their sleeve.

That’s when you see it.

A flash of silver.

Knife.

Your body reacts before your mind fully registers it.

They lunge.

Straight for Yeonjun.

You shove him back—hard—causing him to stumble against the car.

The knife swings forward, slashing through the air—missing him but slicing into your arm instead.

Pain sears through you, hot and sharp.

But you don’t flinch.

The attacker lunges again, wild with desperation.

This time, you catch their wrist mid-swing, twisting sharply.

A strangled cry—then the distinct sound of metal clattering to the pavement.

Before they can react, you drive them back with brutal efficiency, slamming them against the car and pinning them down.

Security floods in seconds later, tackling the sasaeng to the ground.

But Yeonjun doesn’t see any of that.

His eyes are locked on you.

More specifically—

The blood dripping from your sleeve.

He’s in front of you in an instant, grabbing your arm.

His hands are shaking.

“Are you hurt?” His voice is rough, like he’s forcing the words out.

You glance at the wound. The cut is deep but not life-threatening.

“It’s nothing.”

Yeonjun’s grip tightens.

“You—” His voice cracks. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

Something about that fact seems to break him.

Because this is the moment he knows.

Knows that you care more about protecting him than yourself.

Knows that he can’t lose you.

Knows that this isn’t just one-sided anymore.

The world finds out.

You wake up to your phone buzzing non-stop. Texts, calls, notifications flooding in so fast you can’t keep up.

At first, you think it’s just company business.

Then you see the headlines.

“Yeonjun’s Bodyguard Takes Down Armed Attacker.”“Who Is the Woman Protecting Choi Yeonjun?”“Should an Idol’s Safety Rely on Someone Getting Hurt?”

Your stomach drops.

Someone must have leaked the security footage.

The video is everywhere—shared across social media, dissected by news sites, blowing up on forums. It’s grainy but clear enough to show exactly what happened.

The moment you shoved Yeonjun out of harm’s way. The flash of the knife. The way you barely hesitated before putting yourself between him and the attacker.

And most importantly—

Yeonjun’s expression when he saw you bleeding.

A mix of horror, panic, and something deeper.

Something that the entire world is analyzing now.

You scroll through the trending topics.

#YeonjunBodyguard#TXTProtectionFail#WhoIsShe#HYBEStatementWhen

Fans are in full meltdown mode.

Some are in awe.

“She took a KNIFE for him???”“That was straight out of an action movie. Who is this woman??”“I’ve never been more invested in a staff member before.”

Some are furious.

“How could security be this sloppy??”“Idols should not be relying on their bodyguards to get HURT.”“HYBE needs to do better.”

And, of course—

Some have already begun shipping you.

“Tell me I’m not the only one seeing the tension between them.”“The way Yeonjun looked at her?? I felt that.”“They have main couple in a k-drama energy. I’m sorry.”

You exhale sharply, locking your phone.

This is exactly what you didn’t want.

Your job isn’t to be in the spotlight. You were supposed to blend in, stay in the background, do your work without anyone noticing.

This?

This is a disaster.

You need air.

You slip away to the company rooftop, hoping for a moment of silence, away from the chaos.

The city sprawls out below, glittering under the night sky. It should be calming.

But all you can think about is the fallout.

The company will have to address this. They’ll want to “manage the narrative,” keep things from spiraling out of control.

They’ll probably pull you from Yeonjun’s security detail. Maybe even reassign you completely.

You should be relieved.

This is what you wanted, right?

Then why does it feel like a knot is tightening in your chest?

You don’t hear Yeonjun approach, but you feel his presence before he speaks.

“You saved me.”

His voice is soft, but there’s something raw underneath it.

You don’t turn. “It’s my job.”

“No.”

This time, it’s firmer.

You feel him step closer.

“That wasn’t just your job.”

Silence.

A heavy, suffocating silence.

Then—

“That’s the problem,” you admit quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t hesitate.”

The words linger in the air, heavier than you intended.

Because you know what they mean.

You weren’t just protecting an artist.

You were protecting him.

Not out of duty, not out of obligation—

But because you couldn’t not protect him.

You hear Yeonjun inhale sharply, like he’s about to say something.

You finally turn to face him.

His expression is unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes say everything.

There’s frustration. Worry. Relief.

And something else.

Something you’re terrified to acknowledge.

Yeonjun takes another step forward, closing the space between you.

“I don’t want to pretend this is nothing anymore.” His voice is quiet, but there’s a determination behind it that makes your stomach twist.

“Yeonjun…” You shake your head. “Your career…”

His jaw clenches.

“You think I care about that?”

You open your mouth, but he doesn’t let you speak.

“Do you know what went through my head when I saw you bleeding?” His voice is rough, like the words are being dragged out of him. “I didn’t care about the cameras. The fans. The company. I didn’t give a shit about any of it.”

He exhales sharply. “All I could think was, what if it was worse?”

“Then it would’ve been worse.”

“But what if I lost you?”

You stay silent. Something tightens in your chest.

“I know this isn’t just me.” Yeonjun’s voice softens slightly. “And I know you’re scared.”

His gaze flickers over your face, as if trying to read your thoughts.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he says, almost pleading.

You can’t.

You should.

But you can’t, because he’s right. You don’t answer and Yeonjun smiles. It’s soft. Triumphant.

Like he finally has the confirmation he’s been waiting for. His voice drops to a whisper. “Good.”

Because now? He’s not letting you go.

Yeonjun doesn’t wait.

The next morning, he storms into HYBE’s main office, eyes burning with determination. He doesn’t ask for a meeting. He demands one.

The executives barely have time to process before he’s seated at the head of the long conference table, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“If you want me to keep working, I need her here,” he says bluntly.

Silence.

The board members glance at one another, their expressions tense.

One of them sighs. “Yeonjun, we understand you’re in a difficult position, but—”

“My position isn’t difficult,” he interrupts. “It’s simple.”

His voice is calm, but there’s a weight behind it. A finality.

“You’re asking us to take a risk,” another executive says cautiously.

Yeonjun doesn’t blink. “Then take it.”

They hesitate.

“If dating rumors spread, it could damage your career.”

“Your image will take a hit.”

“Fans see bodyguards as untouchable. If this gets out, it could ruin things for both of you.”

Yeonjun exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Then we don’t let it get out.”

Another silence.

“Or,” he says, leaning forward, “we handle it together.”

For the first time, the executives actually seem to consider it.

And Yeonjun knows he’s winning.

The call comes in less than an hour later.

When you step into the private meeting room, you already know what’s coming.

The HR rep sitting across from you folds their hands neatly, expression unreadable.

“We’ve discussed the situation,” they say. “And there are two options.”

You nod, waiting.

“Option one: You transfer out of Yeonjun’s security detail. You remain with HYBE but will no longer have any contact with him.”

A clean break.

A professional solution.

A suffocating, miserable choice.

You swallow. “And option two?”

The HR rep exhales.

“You resign completely.”

Your stomach clenches.

Of course.

Keep your job but lose Yeonjun. Or leave everything.

They think they’ve backed you into a corner.

And maybe they have.

But before you can answer—

Before you can decide—

Yeonjun makes the decision for you.

You sit stiffly in the HR meeting room, hands folded in your lap, trying to keep your expression neutral.

The air is tense.

Across from you, two HR representatives sit with carefully blank expressions, as if they aren’t about to completely change your life.

“We understand that Yeonjun is insisting on keeping you around,” one of them says, adjusting their glasses. “But let’s be clear—this is an unprecedented situation.”

You nod once, waiting.

“It’s crucial that you maintain strict professionalism.”

“Understood.”

“Any slip-ups, any public incidents, any unprofessional behavior—” The HR rep folds their hands together. “And we’ll have to revisit this arrangement.”

Translation: One mistake, and you’re out.

You keep your face blank, but your stomach is in knots.

It’s not like you didn’t expect this. You knew there would be consequences, knew the company would want to keep control.

But hearing it laid out so coldly makes your throat feel tight.

“Do you have any questions?”

You open your mouth—to say no, to accept their terms, to pretend none of this is affecting you—

A knock on the door.

The HR reps frown slightly, glancing at each other. “Come in.”

The door cracks open.

And standing there, looking half-apologetic, half-panicked—

Is Soobin.

Your brows furrow. Soobin isn’t the type to interrupt meetings unless it’s serious.

He clears his throat, stepping inside. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, but…” His eyes flick to you. “You might want to see this.”

Your stomach twists.

“What is it?” one of the HR reps asks, unimpressed.

Soobin hesitates, then sighs and just turns his phone screen toward you.

And on it was a Weverse Live.

Yeonjun’s Weverse Live.

You blink.

He’s sitting there in their practice room, casually reading fan comments, TXT members lounging in the background.

And then—

A fan question pops up.

“Oppa, what do you think of your bodyguard? She was so cool!”

Your heart stops.

Because instead of dodging the question—

Instead of laughing it off—

Yeonjun smirks and reads it out loud.

And then, smoothly, “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. She's practically 99.9% my type.”

You sit there, frozen.

Completely. Frozen.

Soobin shifts awkwardly. “Yeah, so… uh… that just happened.”

The HR reps look deeply unamused.

You are going to kill him.

The next morning, HYBE holds an emergency meeting.

You already know what’s coming.

But this time, you don’t walk in alone.

Yeonjun is waiting for you outside the boardroom.

When he sees you approaching, he doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches you carefully, as if making sure you’re really here.

Then, he holds out his hand.

You hesitate. Not because you don’t want to take it, but because you know what it means. But then you remember—

“You’re not alone in it anymore.”

So, in front of the entire executive board, you take it.

The tension in the room is palpable when you step inside.

The executives take one look at your intertwined hands and exchange wary glances.

Someone clears their throat. “Yeonjun—”

But he cuts them off immediately. “I’ll save you the trouble of trying to decide for me.” His voice is calm. Unshakable. “I’ve thought about everything. The risks, the consequences, the backlash.”

His grip on your hand tightens slightly. “And I still choose her.”

Silence.

One of the higher-ups sighs, rubbing their temples.

“You understand what this could mean for your image, right?”

Yeonjun shrugs. “Then my image changes.”

The executives look at each other again, clearly unhappy.

“You’re really willing to risk it?” one of them asks.

Yeonjun tilts his head.

“I don’t see it as a risk.”

A longer pause.

After a heavy discussion, the company settles on a compromise.

They won’t announce the relationship, but they won’t force you apart either.

“Be discreet,” an executive warns.

Yeonjun grins. “Sure.”

The meeting ends.

And the second you step out of the boardroom, Yeonjun pulls you aside.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, voice softer now.

You let out a slow breath. “I think so.”

You’re exhausted. Emotionally drained, but also relieved.

Because after everything, you’re still here.

With him.

Yeonjun watches you carefully, eyes scanning your face for any hesitation. Any doubt.

And when he finds none, he moves.

Slowly, deliberately.

He lifts a hand, cupping your cheek.

Your heart stutters.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers.

You don’t and that’s all he needs.

Yeonjun leans in and kisses you.

It’s soft at first, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind.

But when you don’t pull away, when your hands grip his hoodie and pull him closer—

The hesitation vanishes.

Yeonjun tilts his head, deepening the kiss, his other arm wrapping firmly around your waist.

You feel the tension in his body—weeks, months of restraint finally breaking.

It’s intoxicating.

And for the first time since all of this started—

You let yourself want this.

Want him.

When you finally pull apart, Yeonjun rests his forehead against yours, grinning.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I think that was worth the risk.”

You huff out a laugh, breathless. “Shut up.”

Yeonjun just smirks and kisses you again.

Months later, things settle down.

There’s still speculation—fans aren’t stupid. Some of them have noticed the way Yeonjun smiles at his phone more often, the way he disappears at odd hours, the way he subtly glances at security whenever you’re near.

But there’s no official confirmation, and that’s exactly how HYBE wants it. Still, you and Yeonjun fall into an easy rhythm. Sneaky dates, teasing banter, late-night texts.

Yeonjun: So are we, like, officially dating? You: What do you think? Yeonjun: I think I love you. You: …Block. Yeonjun: Not a no… Y/N: HUH?? Y/N: NO Y/N: JUN NO Y/N: N O Y/N: I DIDN’T SAY YES Y/N: HELLO???

You see no response.

Your heart drops.

"He wouldn't actually—" No, he would. He absolutely would.

You don’t hesitate to sprint straight to the elevator, mashing the button to his floor.

You barge into the dorm without knocking.

“CHOI YEONJUN, YOUR ASS BETTER NOT BE—”

You freeze, slapping a hand over your mouth because there he is.

Sitting casually in his dorm.

On Weverse Live.

LIVE.

RIGHT NOW.

Yeonjun turns toward the camera, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh, perfect timing,” he says smoothly, as if he didn’t just commit career suicide.“My baby’s here.”

The chat… explodes.

“BABY?????” “who???” “HELLO EXCUSE ME?” “Who’s voice was that??” “WHO’S HE TALKING TO.”

You’re frozen in horror. Your mind is racing at a thousand miles per hour, probably even faster than the chat in his live.

Yeonjun, meanwhile, is as relaxed as ever. He waves you over. “C’mon, don’t be shy now. You were loud just a second ago.”

You stare at him like he’s lost his mind.

Because he has. This man is actually insane.

You lunge forward and smack his arm.

Yeonjun laughs. Actually laughs. “Kidding! Kidding! Relax, baby.”

He turns back to the camera, completely unbothered.

“She’s shy, guys. Let’s not scare her off.”

You cannot believe what is happening. You grab his phone and end the live immediately. Then you whirl it at him.

"WHAT. IS. WRONG. WITH. YOU."

Yeonjun just grins. “So, is this how you wanna soft-launch? Or should I post a couple pic?”

You throw a pillow at his face.

He dodges, laughing.

And despite everything—despite the chaos and absolute madness of the situation— You find yourself smiling.

Yeonjun catches it immediately. His expression softens, amusement melting into something sincere. He steps forward, reaching for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“You’re stuck with me, you know?” he murmurs.

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, gaze gentle.

Your chest tightens. You exhale, shaking your head.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I like you.”

Yeonjun winks.

“I know.”

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: Just a smaller fic than usual since I've been busy with school so pls enjoy still teehee~ Not my best but I just wanted to put something out after being inactive. Thank you to my bb nina @apeachty for beta-reading this <3 Will definitely be writing something else longer soon~

Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @i-like-to-read-at-4am @imlonelydontsendhelp @ode2soob @pagelets @isjsnsjsn