#tory with a y

[boundless11]

Wow, someone really went out of their way to write all that… only to deactivate and run away? Impressive dedication, but if you’re going to spew all that hate, at least have the guts to stick around for a civilised conversation. I was ready to have a big kid dialogue—leave the expletives, insults and rage at the door and we could’ve talked like adults. But I guess some people prefer to audition for ‘Troll Olympics’ gold. Let me know if you ever decide to try again… respectfully this time.

[saintsir4n]

I actually like fic on Wattpad, you’re probably one of the few authors I come across that portrays Sam correctly. Majority of the authors on their either hate or portray her way out of character. I was reading one book on their I really liked but couldn’t help but notice how the authors oc was clearly bias towards Tory because they were similar, and Tory did some bad shit to the oc (held a knife to her neck) but the oc would always deflect but as soon as Sam makes one mistake the oc treats Sam as though she’s her enemy. And I’m just like what.

Thank you so much, in the beginning i was worried that i was writing her incorrectly, especially with her scenes with cameron. I actually like sam a lot more since i rewatched the show. I find her interesting, her development is good and her character is more and more understanding as the time passes.

I’m not shocked about the biases people write with especially when writing a CK fic. Although, many people write the most outlandish stuff and make sam the villain.

[bbielski14]

thinking about rewatching all of ck.

what’s new 🤷‍♀️

[augustinapril]

Y/n: Hey, you wanna know a secret?

Daniel: No.

Y/n: Okay.

Daniel:

Daniel: Do you smell smoke?

Y/n: The secret is that the dojo is on fire.

[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

[torivegaondrugs]

[introvertidocronico]

[ironinc]

My Dearest Situationship.ᝰ.ᐟ (Pt 1)

Tony Stark x F!Black Reader.  (Smut/NSFW)

˗ˏˋ You and Tony are in a passionate yet confusing relationship, with him longing for something more serious and you cherishing your independent lifestyle. When you're together, the spark is undeniable, but when apart, you each lead your own lives. He envisions settling down with someone like you, but you question where your relationship stands. How will this whirlwind romance unfold between two individuals with differing expectations?

⤷ Oneshot, smut so here’s the warning! Lowkey sugar daddy, sex occurs twice, yearning and romance of course~

⤷ A/N: I fear I’m obsessed with writing things for tony. I just can’t not have a good idea for the plot!!!

⤷ Word count: 4,658

⤷ Special song to add spice: Make It To The Morning by Partynextdoor.

ᥫ᭡

The penthouse was quiet, save for the low hum of the city below. Too quiet. The kind of silence that made you hyper-aware of your own breathing, your own heartbeat. You leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the glittering skyline, but all you could think about was him. Tony Stark. He had this uncanny ability to occupy your thoughts even when he wasn’t there. And tonight, he wasn’t. Not physically, anyway.

You swirled the wine in your glass, the deep red liquid catching the dim light. It was his favorite. Some ridiculously expensive vintage he insisted on stocking for you. For me, you corrected yourself. 

Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? A carefully curated arrangement where he provided… everything. The clothes, the jewelry, the apartment. But what did he get in return? Your presence? Your affection? Or something more elusive, something neither of you could quite define?

The sound of a key turning in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t turn around, not yet. You knew it was him. Only he would barge in unannounced as if he owned the place. Technically, he did.

“Still up?” His voice was smooth, confident, and just a little teasing. “Waiting for me?”

You finally turned, your gaze meeting his as he stepped into the room. Tony Stark. The man who could make your pulse race with just a glance. He was dressed impeccably, as always—a tailored suit that fit him like a second skin, the faintest hint of stubble shadowing his jaw. His eyes, though. Those were what got you every time. Dark, intense, and filled with a hunger that matched your own.

“Not waiting,” you lied, taking a sip of your wine. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He smirked, loosening his tie as he approached. “Liar.”

The word hung in the air between you, charged with the tension that always seemed to exist whenever you were together. It was electric, undeniable. You felt it in the way your breath hitched when he stopped just inches away, in the way his cologne wrapped around you like a second skin.

“You don’t have to lie to me beautiful he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “I know you missed me.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “Confident, aren’t we?”

“Always.” He took the glass from your hand, setting it aside without breaking eye contact. 

“But I’m not the one who’s been pacing all night, am I?”

Damn him. Damn him for seeing right through you. You wanted to argue, to push back, but the intensity of his gaze left you speechless. Instead, you swallowed hard, feeling the heat of his body so close to yours. Too close. Not close enough.

Tony reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, but it sent a shiver down your spine nonetheless. “Why do you fight it so much?” he asked softly. “This thing between us. It’s real, and you know it.”

You shook your head, stepping back slightly. “It’s complicated.”

“Only because you make it that way.” His hand dropped, but his gaze never wavered. “I’m offering you everything, ____. All of me. But you keep holding back. Why?”

Because you’re scared, and not being independent would be something new for you. The thought flashed through your mind unbidden, but you didn’t say it aloud. Couldn’t. Admitting that would mean admitting how much he meant to you, how deeply he’d already gotten under your skin. And that was dangerous. Terrifying.

Instead, you deflected. “You’re used to getting whatever you want, aren’t you?”

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Usually. But you’re different. You’ve always been different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “Flattery won’t work on me, Tony.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to flatter you, then.” He closed the distance between you again, his hands settling on your hips. “I’m trying to show you what you mean to me. What we could be.”

His touch was firm, and grounding, but it only heightened the buzzing in your veins. You wanted to pull away, to preserve the distance you so desperately clung to, but your body betrayed you, leaning into him instead. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his breath warm against your skin.

“Let me in, ____. Just once. Let me show you.”

The words were a plea, a promise, and a challenge all rolled into one. And they broke you. Whatever walls you’d built, whatever defenses you’d erected, they crumbled in that moment. You looked up at him, your resolve faltering, and nodded.

That was all the invitation he needed.

Tony’s mouth crashed onto yours, fierce and demanding, as if he’d been holding back for far too long. You responded in kind, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. There was no hesitation, no pretense. Justraw, unbridled desire.

He backed you toward the bedroom, his hands roaming over your body with practiced ease. Every touch, every caress, was deliberate, designed to unravel you piece by piece. By the time he pushed open the door, your dress was already pooling at your feet, leaving you bare before him.

Your breath hitched as his eyes raked over you, dark and hungry. “Beautiful,” he breathed, the word barely audible but dripping with sincerity.

You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also… powerful. Like you held him in the palm of your hand, even as he claimed you with his gaze. He stepped closer, his fingers tracing a path down your arm, sending shivers skittering across your skin.

“Tony…” Your voice was soft and uncertain, but he silenced you with another kiss. This one was slower, sweeter, as if he was savoring the taste of you.

When he pulled back, his expression was serious. “Tell me what you want, ____.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. What did you want? Him? Yes, always. But more than that? That was the question you’d been avoiding.

“I want… you,” you whispered finally, the admission tearing free before you could stop it. “All of you.”

A flicker of triumph crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by something softer, more tender. “You’ve got me,” he said simply. “Now and always.”

The words should have scared you. They did scare you, deep down. But in that moment, all you could focus on was the feel of his hands on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours. He laid you down on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was memorizing every inch of you.

His lips trailed down your neck, planting soft kisses along the way until they found your collarbone. You gasped as he nipped gently, his tongue soothing the sting. “So sensitive,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Every touch, every word, was deliberate, calculated to drive you wild. And it worked. By the time his hands slid lower, you were already trembling, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps.

“Tony, please…”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” His voice was low and rough, but there was a tenderness there that made your chest ache. “Tell me.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to beg, but then his fingers brushed against you, and all coherent thought fled. You arched into his touch, a moan escaping your lips as he teased and tormented you, drawing out sensations you hadn’t even known were possible.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, his thumb circling slowly. “Let go for me.”

And you did. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms. He held you through it, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, murmuring words you were too overwhelmed to process.

When the last tremor subsided, you looked up at him, your vision still hazy. His expression was one of pure adoration, and it made your heart ache in ways you weren’t ready to examine.

“My turn,” he said huskily, his hands moving to his belt. You watched, transfixed, as he undressed, revealing the taut muscles and perfect skin beneath. When he joined you on the bed, you could feel the heat radiating off him, tempting you closer.

His hands roamed over your body, rekindling the fire he’d just stoked. You gasped as he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. “Are you ready for me, Y/N?”

You nodded, unable to form words. He positioned himself above you, his eyes locked onto yours, full of intensity and something deeper. Something that made your heart pound even harder.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered, his voice rough with need.

You nodded again, biting your lip as he entered you slowly, giving you time to adjust. It was overwhelming, the sensation of being so completely connected to him. But it was also perfect.

As he began to move, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Each thrust was deliberate, drawing out gasps and moans that echoed through the room. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he responded with a groan, burying his face in your neck.

The rhythm increased, becoming more urgent, more desperate. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as waves of pleasure built once more. 

Without a word he stopped you from moving, flipping you around flat on your stomach. He grabbed your hips and pulled them up. Helping you arch your back. He teases you for a second. Using your wetness to tease you with just his tip.

“Tony, don’t tease me—”

With a swift move, he inserted every inch of him, without letting you re-adjust. His strong hands rested on your waist. Controlling your movements he brought your ass to meet his thrusts. His moans were low and so attractive. It added to everything you were feeling. 

In this position, you could really feel all of him. It was toe-curling. (BAHHSHHSHA) 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged, his voice strained. “I’ve got you.”

And just like that, you shattered again, crying out as ecstasy consumed you. He followed soon after, his body tensing before collapsing beside you, both of you breathless and spent.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the steady rhythm of your breathing, slowly syncing as you lay tangled together. Finally, Tony broke the silence, his voice soft but firm.

“We can’t keep doing this, Y/N.” He stood up and went to the dresser. Getting himself something to put on and gettingyou one of his shirts to wear plus some pajama shorts. He gave it to you and then sat beside you. 

Your stomach dropped at what he said. You thanked him for the clothes and put them on. “What do you mean?” 

He turned to face you, his expression serious. “I mean… I’m tired of pretending this is casual. I want more. With you.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. More. It’s what you’d been secretly longing for, even as you denied it. But now that it was out there, hanging between you…

“Tony…”

Tony’s eyes held yours, unwavering, as if he could see straight through the walls you’d built around yourself. The weight of his words pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. More. It wasn’t just a word—it was a promise, a demand, a fear all rolled into one. You swallowed hard, your voice trembling as you finally spoke.

You hesitated, your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides. “I don’t know if I can give you what you want. I’m not… I’m not built for this. For us.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he took a step closer, his presence overwhelming in the best way. “Why not?” he asked, his voice low and steady. “What’s holding you back?”

You looked away, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m scared,” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Scared of losing myself. Scared of depending on someone else. Scared of getting hurt. And scared to not be independent.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Tony reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if you were something precious. “Look at me,” he said softly, and you did, your eyes meeting his once more. “You’re not going to lose yourself with me. I don’t want to take anything from you. I want to give you more—more of me, more of us. And as for getting hurt…” He paused, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “I’ll never let that happen. Not if I can help it.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the edges of your fear. But still, the doubt lingered. “You say that now, but what happens when I’m not enough? When you realize I can’t give you everything you need?”

Tony’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You already are enough. You’ve always been enough. And I’m not asking for everything—I’m just asking for a chance. A chance to show you that we can be something real.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the sincerity in his voice breaking down your defenses. “Tony…”

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “Not unless you tell me to. And even then, I might not listen.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, unexpected but welcome. “Stubborn,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“Guilty,” he replied, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, fleeting kiss. “But I’m also serious. I meant what I said earlier. I want to take care of you, ___. In every way, shape, and form. Let me. Please.”

His gaze was so intense, so full of raw emotion, that it was impossible to look away. “I don’t know if I can,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Tony’s hand slid down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to his. “You don’t have to know right now,” he said. “All I’m asking is that you trust me. Trust us. Let’s figure it out together, one step at a time.”

Your heart raced, the walls around it crumbling with each word he spoke. “You’re not making this easy,” you said, your voice trembling.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Good. I wasn’t trying to.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as his words sank in. One step at a time. He was right. You don’t have to have all the answers right now. All you had to do was take the first step. And maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.

When you opened your eyes again, Tony was still there, waiting patiently, his gaze never leaving yours. “Okay,” you said softly, the word leaving your lips like a confession. “One step at a time.”

A smile spread across his face, bright and genuine, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Thank you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “You won’t regret this.”

You buried your face in his chest, his heartbeat steady against your cheek. “I hope you’re right,” you whispered.

“I am,” he said, his fingers gently trailing up and down your back. “And to prove it…” He pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Let me take you out. A real date. No business, no distractions. Just you and me.”

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “A date? Are you sure you remember how to do that?”

Tony laughed, the sound rich and full. “I might be a little rusty, but I’m sure I can manage. Besides, it’s you—you make everything easy.”

Flutters filled your stomach. He had a way of making you feel seen, and cherished, and not just physically. It was in the way he talked to you, how he held your gaze, how he seemed to understand you without having to say a word.

“Tomorrow night,” he said, his voice firm but soft. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Dress for whatever you want—fancy, casual, it doesn’t matter. Just be ready for me.”

“Understood,” you replied, feeling the warmth of his words sink into your skin.

Slowly, his hand drifted to the small of your back, and he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your ear.

 “Good. Now,” he whispered, his tone dropping into something deeper, more intimate. 

“It’s late,” he murmured against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, “and I’m not done with you yet.”

His palms slid down your sides, trailing heat everywhere they touched until his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pajama bottoms and tugged gently. “Take these off for me,” he said, his voice husky as he took a step back, just far enough to give you space but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t disagree. Slowly, you slid your shorts down your legs, kicking them aside, leaving only his thin t-shirt covering you. The look in his eyes darkened as his gaze traveled down your body, his lips parting slightly, his jaw tensing. He let out a low exhale, and your stomach tightened in anticipation.

He strode forward, the intensity in his eyes making your heart pound, and he slipped his hands under the hem of the shirt, fingers brushing against the softness of your thighs as it fell over your body. His eyes roamed your bare skin, making you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet utterly desired. His fingers trailed up your sides, sliding the fabric up, inch by inch, and you raised your arms, letting him pull the shirt over your head.

Tony’s breath caught as he took you in, his gaze lingering as his hands began to explore, trailing lightly over your skin. His fingers brushed your shoulders, tracing the curve of your collarbone, and then he leaned in, his lips following the path his hands had taken. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, the words sending a shiver down your spine. His hand moved down your back, his fingers trailing lightly, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

He pulled you closer, his body flush against yours, his erection pressing against your hip. Your breath hitched as he moved his mouth to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, making your knees weaken. His hand slid down to your thigh, gripping it firmly as he pulled you even closer. “You feel so good,” he breathed, his voice deep and rough. “So fucking good.”

His hands moved over your body, stroking and caressing you, exploring every inch of skin he could find. He kissed along your shoulder, his lips traveling up to your neck again, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. His hand cupped your ass, squeezing it gently before sliding down to your thigh again, pulling your leg up to wrap around his hip.

Tony’s breath was heavy against your neck as he kissed and nibbled at the sensitive skin there. His hands moved over your body, his touch firm but gentle, making you shiver and moan. His erection pressed against you, hard and insistent, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Tony,” you breathed, his name a plea and a prayer as your fingers fisted in his shirt. He leaned back, his hands framing your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, and his eyes locked with yours. His gaze was intense, almost unrelenting, but it wasn’t forceful. It was… possessive, but in a way that made your chest tighten and your breath hitch in your throat.

He leaned in, his lips feathering against yours, and you melted into him, your body softening as you kissed him back. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you moaned softly as you kissed him deeper, your hands sliding down his chest and gripping the hem of his shirt. You pulled it up, breaking the kiss as you tugged it over his head and tossed it aside. His bare chest was warm and solid against yours, his skin smooth and taut over the muscles beneath.

Tony’s hands slid down to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he walked you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. He didn’t push you down. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, his breath warm on your skin, and murmured, “Lie back.”

Your heart raced as you followed his command, lying back on the bed, your legs bent and your feet flat on the mattress. He knelt down, his hands wrapping around your knees to spread your legs apart. You let out a shaky breath as his head dipped between your thighs, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside. His tongue flicked out, teasing you, and your back arched as a shiver ran through you, a soft moan escaping your lips. His hands slid up your thighs, squeezing them gently before moving down to grip your hips again. His tongue moved faster, flicking over you, and your body trembled as pleasure built inside you.

Tony’s mouth moved lower, his tongue sliding between your folds, and you gasped, one hand gripping the sheets as the other reached down to tangle in his hair. His mouth pressed against you, his tongue flicking over your clit, and you cried out, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. His hands moved up to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you moan as your body writhed beneath him.

“Tony,” you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, your hips grinding against his mouth as the pressure built inside you, your body trembling with need as he teased and pleasured you. His eyes lifted to yours, and he smirked, his lips glistening with your arousal.

“I like hearing my name on your lips,” he said, his voice low and husky, his breath warm against your skin. “Say it again.”

“Tony,” you whispered again, your voice trembling with need as his tongue worked its magic between your thighs. His name hung in the air like a promise, and he groaned against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure coursing through your body. He pulled back slightly, his darkened eyes locking onto yours, and you could see the hunger there, raw and unrelenting.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice low and gravelly, his breath fanning over your slick flesh.

“Tony,” you moaned louder this time, your hips lifting off the bed as if to chase his mouth. His grip on your thighs tightened, and he chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your inner thigh before returning to their delicious task. His tongue swirled around your clit, teasing, and flicking, and you gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair as you arched into him. The room was filled with the sounds of your combined breaths and the wet, intimate noises of his mouth on you, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You were teetering on the brink, your body coiled tight with tension, when Tony suddenly pulled away. You whimpered at the loss, your eyes flying open to meet his. He smirked, his lips glistening, and climbed up your body, his hands sliding under you to grip your ass as he positioned himself over you. His cock brushed against your entrance, and you shuddered, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I want to feel you.”

His words sent a jolt of heat through you, but before you could respond, he shifted his weight, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. You straddled his waist, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of him, and he gazed up at you, his dark eyes full of something you couldn’t quite name.

“Take what you want,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. His hands slid up your thighs, his thumbs brushing over your hip bones, and you felt a surge of power, of control, that made your breath hitch.

You leaned forward, your hands resting on his chest as you positioned yourself over him. His cock pressed against you, and you sank down slowly, inch by excruciating inch until you were fully seated on him. Tony’s head fell back, a groan tearing from his throat, and his hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough, and you smiled faintly, moving your hips experimentally. His breath hitched, and you did it again, harder this time, relishing the way his eyes fluttered closed and his jaw clenched.

“You feel so good,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you began to move, rocking your hips against him. His hands moved to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, and you gasped, your movements growing more urgent.

Tony’s eyes opened, and he watched you intently, his gaze burning into yours as you rode him. His hands slid down to your hips, guiding your movements, and you let him take control, surrendering to the rhythm he set. His thrusts grew deeper, more insistent, and you cried out, your nails scraping against his chest as pleasure built inside you.

���Don’t hold back baby,” he urged, his voice rough and demanding, and you obeyed, your body convulsing around him as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Tony swore under his breath, his hips slamming into yours as he chased his ownrelease, and moments later, he followed you over the edge, his fingers digging into your skin as he came with a guttural groan.

You collapsed against him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and you listened to the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your ear. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence broken only by the sound of your breathing.

When Tony finally stirred, his hand brushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle. “Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, and you nodded, curling into his side as exhaustion washed over you. His fingers trailed down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you sighed contentedly, your eyes drifting shut.

But as you lay there, your mind began to wander, the blissful haze of afterglow giving way to thoughts you’d been trying to ignore. Tony’s hand stilled on your arm, and you glanced up at him, finding his eyes already on you.

“What is it?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly. His thumb brushed over your cheek, and you hesitated, unsure how to voice the feelings swirling inside you.

“I just…” you began, biting your lip as you searched for the right words. “What are we doing, Tony?”

His expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hand, his thumb sweeping over your lower lip. “We’re figuring it out,” he said quietly. “One step at a time.”

You wanted to believe him, to trust that this could work, and you kinda did, but it lingered in the back of your mind. Before you could say anything else, Tony leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss that left you breathless. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and you closed your eyes, savoring the closeness.

“Get some sleep beautiful,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. You nodded, smiling at the compliment and too tired to argue, and snuggled closer to him, letting the warmth of his body lull you into a restless sleep.

ON MY SOUL, ON MY GRANNY THIS HAD ME GEEKED OUT GAHHHHSHH. ESPECIALLY THIS EDIT WITH IT V 

(Credits: Robertsdesert on TikTok)

I hope you all like this one. Trying new story ideas and this will also have a part two soon, since it was requested 🤍

༘⋆ Part two awaits you now... ⋆˙⟡

[holyprncess]

thinking about boyfriend! sanji who randomly gets horny from just looking at you half of the time. it would be small things that turn him on too.. like the way your shoulder look in your new tube top. or the way your ass looks when you bend over to grab a pan for him in the kitchen. or just seeing you apply lipgloss on your plump lips hes instantly thinking about how your clear glossed lips look around his cock. or how they part when he fucks you or eats you out 5 different times to hell. pulls you in the bathroom or into a abandoned space on the ship where no one will see you. he's automatically begging you to let him experience the heavenly feeling of eating your hot cunt or for you to even bless him with the pleasure of your pillowy lips even touching his tip. idk i just like sanji

[minsheart]

꒰ 1 AM TEXTS WITH HAN

pairings: boyfriend han jisung x reader genre: mostly crack, lowkey fluff screenshots: 9

© minsheart, 2024

[builtbybrokenbells]

The seven deadly sins, also known as the capital vices or cardinal sins, is a grouping and classification of vices within Christian teachings.

According to the standard list, they are pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth, which are contrary to the seven heavenly virtues.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 120k | FINISHED

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (lots), angst, fluff, fwb, loss of a parent, grief, abusive/toxic relationships, jealousy, cheating, unrequited love, smoking, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

DISCLAIMER: I do not know Greta Van Fleet or any of the members personally. This is all fiction and I will never claim otherwise. I attempt to keep all of my work 100% original, so please do not steal or take credit for my writing. As of right now, I aim to get chapters out on weekends, but it is not guaranteed as I do have a full time job and other responsibilities to attend to. Please be patient and kind to me. Do not mind any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes, as I am the sole writer/editor for my blog and do miss things sometimes.

LUST | teaser

GLUTTONY | teaser

GREED | teaser

SLOTH | teaser

PRIDE

ENVY | teaser

WRATH | teaser | teaser 2

JACOB THOMAS KISZKA

CAPITAL VIRTUES

TAGLIST: if you would like to be added to the Capital Vices taglist, please feel free to send me an ask, pm me, or respond on this or one of the above chapters. if i do not respond, it is because the replies on my posts will only allow me to reply with my main account. i promise i will see it, and if i happen to miss you, don’t be scared to ask again!

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: I am incredibly grateful for all of the support, likes, reblogs and kind comments I receive from all of you. I would be nothing without your support, and I do take the time to read and appreciate every reply and message, even if I don’t respond. Thank you so much for all you do, and I sincerely hope that you enjoy this story as much as I do 🫶🏻

all things capital vices:

playlist: spotify | apple music

moodboards:

moods, outfits, and other things

[boundless11]

👆🏻💯

So because Sam has nice things... she can't win the sekai taikai?! That's the dumbest shit l've heard from tory fans. Sam deserves to win because she's a great fighter and has been beat down and underestimated. She lost out on the all valley because of Silver, the sekai taikai will help her know she can win on her own accord and allow her closure. Sam had to learn that she wouldn’t always get what she wanted, and she did, multiple times. She also had to realise how life isn’t always black and white. I think her arc would be complete if she wins — even though the leaks might not back that but honestly she deserves a win. I’m tired of fans thinking she’s not great when she is. She just isn’t the underdog and that triggers a lot of people for some reason.

[coco-and-creame]

girls night with Tori. You’re painting each others nails and doing each others hair and giggling and gossiping. And when you shyly admit to her that you’ve never been able to cum before, well, how can she not take that as a challenge.

I like how you think anon~

The Giver

Content: title from Chappell Roan’s new song; making out; titty sucking; fingering; cunnilingus; squirting; possessiveness.

“You what?”

Tori’s incredulous voice cuts through the room and the sound of Chappell Roan singing that comes from the portable speaker. You’re blushing, ears uncomfortably red, and you pick idly at the dried nail polish that messily got on your fingers. When Tori brings a finger under your chin to tilt your gaze back up to her, butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“I’ve… I’ve never cum.”

“Not even when you…?”

“Especially not then. I don’t know, my head has never been in the right space. Never felt good or…well, right.”

You’re violently embarrassed — even more so from the way she’s looking at you right now with such pity. But in a flash, the pity morphs into something… different. Something shiny and hungry and your heartbeat quickens as you watch the pink tip of her tongue slide out to wet her lips.

“I could do it,” she says, straightening her shoulders in confidence. “If that, uh, interests you.”

If that interests you? You’ve only been pining for the tall Norwegian for months now, aching to turn these girl’s nights you’ve been having into something more. Suddenly your mind is flooded with images of lips and tongues, deft fingers, and warm giggles. Somehow your flush deepens, spreading across your chest and Tori’s sharp gaze follows its path.

“Y-yeah. I’d like that. Please.”

The final word is barely out of your mouth and she’s already crawling towards you on her hands and knees.

“Lie down and get comfortable,” Tori murmurs, the cherry Coke on her breath ghosting over your lips. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” you ask softly as you lean back onto the pile of pillows. She straddles you in a heartbeat and runs a black-painted fingernail down the side of your cheek.

“But first I have to warm you up.” Tori leans down and brushes her lips over your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks. “Nice and slow. I want you dripping for me.”

Your gasp is cut off when she slides her lips against yours and, feeling bold, you thread your hand through her blonde hair and pull her close. It doesn’t take long before you feel Tori’s hot tongue seeking entrance which you eagerly grant. As your tongues and teeth meet, Tori drags a lazy hand up your torso and slowly pries the strap of your tank top down, along with the front of the shirt. When she pulls back to look at your exposed breasts you whine at the loss of her mouth. Idly she thumbs over your nipple, stiffening it before giving it a playful sharp pinch. You yelp slightly, hips bucking against her and she smiles before returning to your mouth once more. As your kisses get wetter, deeper, hungrier, Tori continues to toy with your hardened nipple, cupping and squeezing the weight of your breast in her palm. When you whimper against her mouth and nudge her nose with yours she laughs, low and sultry.

“Have to tell me what you want, engel,” she teases, pulling back. She doesn't know why it took the two of you this long to get here but fuck she's happy you made it. Your pupils are blown and your lips swollen as you look up at her with adoration.

“S-suck.”

Tori tsks, knowing you can do better than that. Taking a deep breath you let out a soft whimper.

“Suck my tits, please.”

Tori coos at you, her sweet girl who knows how to ask so nicely even without being told. When her mouth descends on your breast she brings her lips together and blows a stream of cold air on the bud. The result is well worth it from the gasp that comes out of you and the tight little circles your hips make against her. When she flicks her tongue against you, you whine once more, hand returning to its place buried in her hair. Delightedly she takes your nipple into her hot mouth and sucks, smiling against your soft skin when you breathe her name like a prayer. Tori continues to lave her tongue along your breasts, running the muscle over every bump and valley. She could do this for hours — part of her is curious if she can make you cum just from this — but her mouth isn’t quite where she wants to be yet. When she pulls away from your chest, delightfully swollen from her ministrations, you very nearly cry out.

“Easy, engel,” Tori purrs, sliding down to place a kiss on the curve of your belly. “Plenty of time for that later. I’ve got a job to do, remember?”

“Mmmm, please Tori. Want to feel you.”

With a throb from between her own thighs, Tori regrets not having her strap on her right now so she could stuff you full of her. Instead she contents herself with sliding your sleep shorts and underwear off your hips and down your legs. When you’re finally exposed you slowly spread your legs for her, delighting in the way her gaze darkens at the sight of you. Pretty little curls on a thick mound and below that… Tori gently reaches down to spread you apart and when your slick begins to drip on the carpet below you she nearly goes feral.

“Hmm,” she says, settling between your legs and pressing sweet little open-mouth kisses to the inside of your thigh. “Pretty.”

“Yeah?” you breathe, and she can hear the smile on your face.

“Mmhmm,” she murmurs while nosing the curls. “All pretty and pink and sopping wet just for me.”

You make a noise somewhere in between a laugh of incredulity and a moan and when she spreads you open and slowly drags her tongue through your folds, you cry out.

“Fuck, Tori!”

Tori places a kiss to your mound and looks up at you with devilish eyes. “Only just getting started, honning.”

Before you can say anything else she’s on you, tongue splitting you open. She doesn’t touch your clit, not right away, instead content to tease at its hood while you twist in her grip. Briefly, she abandons it and slides down to your entrance where your slick accumulates for her pleasure. When she abruptly slides her tongue into your entrance, you shout her name. Slowly she begins to fuck you with her tongue as her fingers put a bruising grip on your hips.

“So good, Tori, fuck.”

She chuckles against your cunt and the vibrations make your hips buck sharply against her. Tori pulls away but brings a finger to your hole to tease at it as she looks up at you.

“Think I can do more than make you cum, babyjente,” she muses as she toys with your cunt. “Think I can do much better than that.”

“Yeah?” You’re desperately trying to regain your composure but as Tori’s long finger begins to slide into you your voice wavers.

“Think I’ll ruin you,” Tori says simply, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Think when I’m done with you no one’s fingers, tongue, strap, or cock will be good enough for you.”

You laugh, high pitched and exaltant, and look down at the woman between your legs. Her hair is mussed, her eyes wild. You barely even notice that she’s slipped a second finger inside you and buried them knuckle-deep until her stare makes you clench around her. Tori grins, wide and sharp at that as she slowly begins pistoning the digits in and out of you. The noises coming from your cunt are lewd and delightful, causing Tori to chuckle as you writhe under her touch. Suddenly, she lowers her lips back to you and when she circles and sucks your clit into her mouth, you buck against her hand taking her even deeper.

“That’s it, engel,” Tori breathes, watching you slowly come undone beneath her touch. “You’re doing so well. I think you can take three now, hmm?”

Your nod is frantic, back arched and hips grinding into her. When she slips a third long finger into your cunt, the stretch is delicious. She returns to your clit and with a smooth gesture, crooks her fingers inside of you to brush against that sweet spongy spot. Little lights dance in your vision as she ruthlessly sucks at your clit and massages that spot inside you. You can feel something coming, feel the pressure in your hips that slides off your spine and tightens your muscles. The pace at which her fingers and mouth move are unreal, determined to get you off. And get you off she does. With a high pitched, mounting moan your hips twitch violently against her mouth, your cries echoing in the small living room. You feel as if your heart and lungs are going to burst forth from your ribcage as wave after wave of warm pleasure crashes down upon you. You’re not sure how long it takes you to come back into your body by when you do, Tori is still between your legs grinning like a cat that got the canary. All of a sudden you’re aware of the sopping wet warmth that has settled in between your legs and how much of it is on Tori’s beautiful face.

“I - I did that?”

Tori laughs, high and sweet, as she licks her fingers clean one by one.

“You sure did, baby. Such a good girl, squirting for me and everything. I told you I’d do it.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, flopping back down onto the pillows. Abandoning the space in between your legs she joins you up top and regards you with a smug, yet fond, grin.

“Tori… that was…”

“Hmm?”

“Wow. I’d let you keep me as a pet if it meant I got that out of it.”

The words come out of your mouth before you realize what you’re actually saying and Tori pulls back to look at you.

“Don’t say that, søthet,” she breathes, hand ghosting over the curves of your body. “Don’t get my hopes up like that.”

“Get your hopes up like what?” you ask, eyes trained on the ceiling. “I meant it.”

It takes Tori two minutes to stand and scoop you up in her arms, heading towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

“Hope you don’t have anything planned the next few days,” Tori says conversationally as she takes you down the hallway to her door, “because I have no intention of letting you leave.”

When she tosses you on her bed, a shriek of delight squeaks out of you.

Fuck, you loved girls night.

[augustinapril]

COBRA KAI TWEETS

cw: Nothing other than Miguel and Hawk lowkey having a bromance. if you guys want a part to just lmk!! <3

[gyu-tori]

The Great Valentine Heist | C.BG

A PRE-VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL

Pairing: highschooler!beomgyu x fem!reader Genre: FLUFF and Comedy

Summary: On Valentine’s Day, Beomgyu hatches a plan to steal a box of chocolates from your locker, sparked by a bit of jealousy. But as his scheme unravels in a whirlwind of chaotic mishaps, including a mix-up with the chocolates and a series of awkward excuses, he’s forced to come clean about his true intentions.

What started as a silly heist ends up revealing more than he bargained for—perhaps even something sweet that wasn’t part of the plan.

Word count: 5.2k

It was the usual chaos at the school courtyard, buzzing with the energy of Valentine’s Day. Students scurried around, exchanging chocolates, roses, and sweet nothings like their lives depended on it. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and the frantic clatter of school bags as the students walked by, some wearing bright smiles, others clinging to their best friends, desperately trying to hide their nerves and uncertainty about whether they would receive anything in return.

Among them, you sat quietly on one of the benches near the school garden, staring blankly at the half-eaten sandwich in your hands. Valentine’s Day wasn’t really your thing. It wasn’t that you hated the holiday; you just didn’t see the point in putting too much stock in it. Besides, you were more than content to go about your day as usual—until Beomgyu showed up, of course.

You were midway through taking a bite when Beomgyu suddenly slid into the seat next to you, all wide eyes and the kind of grin that made it clear he was plotting something. You barely had a chance to glance up before he was already leaning in, getting way too close for comfort, his head tilting as if he were studying you like you were some kind of rare specimen.

“So,” Beomgyu began, his voice light, teasing, “did you get any chocolates today?” He raised an eyebrow as if daring you to answer. “Or are you still too intimidating for anyone to dare?”

You glanced at him from over the edge of your sandwich, the same exasperated look that you always wore when he popped up. You swallowed your food with the grace of someone who had long grown used to Beomgyu’s antics, before responding with a deadpan expression. “Sure, Gyu. I’m just so terrifying that no one’s brave enough to offer me any. That must be it.”

Beomgyu chuckled, shaking his head, the playful gleam in his eyes only sharpening. He leaned back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, and gave you an exaggerated once-over. “Yeah, right. I bet they’re all too scared to talk to you. It’s not like anyone would want to give chocolates to someone as intimidating as you.”

You rolled your eyes again, suppressing the urge to sigh. “If only you knew how much of a relief that is,” you muttered, looking out at the students milling about, most of them caught up in their own holiday dramas. “I’d rather not deal with all the clichés and awkward exchanges.”

“You’re just bitter ‘cause no one gave you any chocolates,” Beomgyu teased, nudging you with his elbow. His tone was mocking, but you could tell there was an underlying hint of something else, something more familiar to you now—an odd mixture of jealousy and competitiveness.

“Sure, that’s exactly it,” you deadpanned, though you couldn’t suppress the ghost of a smirk. “Because I’m so desperate for chocolates, I just can’t stand it.” You leaned back on the bench, unbothered. “Maybe you should try a little harder next time. You know, if you really want to get in the Valentine’s spirit.”

Beomgyu pouted dramatically, a mock-sad expression overtaking his usual cocky grin. “Oh, I try. Trust me. But you don’t know how hard it is when everyone around you is just too blind to see my charm.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “Right. You’re ‘charming,’ all right.”

Before you could continue the banter, you heard a familiar sigh next to you. Soobin had appeared, his presence immediately making the air feel a little less chaotic. The subtle tension in the air shifted, as if everything in the world was a little more put-together when Soobin was around. He leaned casually against the bench, shaking his head as he looked from Beomgyu to you.

“You’re really doing this again, huh?” Soobin’s voice was laced with fond exasperation, his arms crossing in a way that made it clear he’d heard this exact conversation countless times before.

“Oh, come on, Bin,” Beomgyu grinned, clearly enjoying the attention. “It’s Valentine’s Day. People should know better than to try to resist my charm.” He struck a ridiculous pose, complete with finger guns aimed at an imaginary crowd. “I’m the perfect Valentine’s package.”

Soobin sighed again, a long and deeply audible sigh that seemed to come from the very core of his being. “If only the rest of the school agreed with you.”

“Right? They just don’t understand what they’re missing,” Beomgyu whined dramatically, tilting his head back and pretending to stare at the sky in pure anguish. “It’s so unfair. I’m charming, I’m funny, I have looks, and yet here I am, still single. What more do they want?”

“So, what’s your plan for today then?” Soobin asked, clearly not caring to entertain Beomgyu’s long-winded monologue on how society had failed to recognize his greatness. “You just gonna keep complaining, or are you gonna do something about it?”

“I’ve got a plan,” Beomgyu said, with all the certainty of someone who had no idea what he was about to get himself into. “You’ll see.”

You could feel the familiar sense of dread settle into your chest. Beomgyu’s ‘plans’ were always a disaster waiting to happen, and you had no desire to be dragged into whatever he had in mind. In fact, you were far too busy for his antics. You were preparing a small surprise of your own—a box of chocolates you had carefully made for someone special. It wasn’t much, but it felt meaningful. However, you couldn’t help but doubt that this person would actually accept your gesture. You knew better than to expect much from them.

Before you could lose yourself in your thoughts, Minjeong waved from across the courtyard. You waved back and made your way over to her, your mind still lingering on the chocolates.

“So,” Minjeong said as she joined you, her voice light with curiosity, “how’s the Valentine’s Day prep going?”

You smiled faintly, feeling a small flutter in your chest. “Nothing too big. I’ve got some chocolates ready. For someone special.” You didn’t offer more, letting the words hang in the air. You didn’t need to explain more. Minjeong understood.

Beomgyu, of course, overheard your mention of chocolates, and his eyes immediately lit up like a kid in a candy store. You didn’t need to see him to know he was already planning something. You heard him lean closer to Soobin, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“You’re telling me,” Beomgyu began, practically purring with excitement, “that (Y/N) has chocolates for someone special? This is too good to ignore.” He suddenly sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing with a gleam of mischief. “I think it’s time for... The Great Valentine Heist.”

Soobin’s expression darkened instantly. “The Great Valentine Heist?” he repeated, a note of dread in his voice. “That sounds like it’s going to end in disaster.”

Beomgyu’s grin only widened. “Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen?” he said with an exaggerated shrug, the air of a man who thought he had everything under control. “I’m just ‘borrowing’ Y/N’s chocolates for a little while. They’ll never even know.”

Soobin shook his head slowly, as if mentally preparing himself for the inevitable fallout. “This is a terrible idea,” he muttered, though it was clear his protests would go ignored. “You never learn.”

Beomgyu just laughed, all too confident. “Have a little faith in me. When have my plans ever gone wrong?”

Soobin, without missing a beat, began counting on his fingers. “Let’s see... You almost set fire to the science lab during last year’s prank. You sent an entire class’s worth of flowers to the wrong room last month, and don’t even get me started on the dance debacle with the sprinklers.” Soobin shook his head, his voice tinged with a touch of disbelief. “You think this is going to work?”

“Don’t worry, Bin,” Beomgyu called over his shoulder. “It’s The Great Valentine Heist—how could it possibly go wrong?”

Soobin just sighed, resigned to the fact that this would, without a doubt, end terribly.

The day had arrived for Beomgyu’s most ambitious plan yet: The Great Valentine Heist. He was buzzing with excitement, practically bouncing on his heels as he caught sight of Soobin leaning against the lockers, a sigh already escaping his lips.

"Soobin!" Beomgyu called out, his voice filled with that over-the-top enthusiasm he reserved for his most ridiculous schemes. "I need you to help me with something huge today."

Soobin's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable but full of dread. “What now, Gyu? This can’t possibly be anything good.”

“Relax!” Beomgyu waved his hand dismissively. “This is going to be a piece of cake. Just a little heist I’m planning, that’s all.”

Soobin sighed again, already feeling the weight of Beomgyu's plans crashing down on him. “And what exactly am I supposed to do this time?”

“I need you to be my distraction ninja,” Beomgyu said, leaning in dramatically as if unveiling some grand strategy.

Soobin blinked. “A what?”

“A distraction ninja!” Beomgyu repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re going to cause a scene so ridiculous that everyone’s attention will be completely taken off me. I’ll slip in, grab the chocolates, and be out of there before anyone knows what happened.”

Soobin let out a tired groan. “And you want me to do this because… why?”

Beomgyu grinned. “Because, my friend, I need someone who can make the whole school stop and stare. Something loud. Something no one can ignore.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Like, sneeze on purpose?”

“Exactly!” Beomgyu said, clapping his hands together. “Go big or go home!”

“I’m going to regret this,” Soobin muttered under his breath, but he knew there was no getting out of it now.

The plan was set. Beomgyu’s eyes were gleaming with confidence as he prepared to execute what was sure to be a disaster in the making.

As you stood by your locker, carefully sorting through your things, you were completely oblivious to the chaotic scene unfolding around you. But then, you heard it: an over-the-top sneeze that echoed down the hallway.

“ACHOO!”

The sound was exaggerated, like a performance, followed by loud, drawn-out coughing. You paused, your eyes darting toward the sound just in time to see Soobin stumbling into view. His face was contorted into a mock expression of agony, his body lurching as if he were about to collapse any second.

You groaned inwardly but couldn’t help watching as Soobin dramatically lurched forward, clutching his chest. “I’m... dying,” he muttered between over-the-top coughs, his voice rising to an almost theatrical pitch.

You crossed your arms, leaning against your locker with a slight smile tugging at your lips. Soobin’s antics were ridiculous, and yet, you found it hard to ignore. You shook your head, muttering to yourself, “Is this really what he’s come to?”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu had already started his approach. The commotion from Soobin’s dramatic performance had everyone’s attention on him, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

As Soobin continued to act out his fake illness, Beomgyu darted toward your locker with the same sneaky air of someone trying to pull off an elaborate heist. His fingers trembled with anticipation as he fumbled with your locker combination. The adrenaline surged in his veins—he had to hurry before the distraction wore off.

But the lock wouldn’t budge.

His hands fumbled with the combination, his palms sweating. No—he couldn’t mess this up. He had to get the chocolates.

Just as he was about to give up, a student turned the corner and walked right toward him.

Panicking, Beomgyu froze. His mind raced as he thought of a way to cover his tracks. In a split second, he forced a smile, standing tall as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

“Oh, wow, these lockers sure are something,” Beomgyu said loudly, gesturing to the locker in front of him with exaggerated enthusiasm. “The craftsmanship on this model is amazing, don’t you think? You just have to appreciate a good locker.”

The student gave him a confused look but shrugged, continuing on their way, probably questioning Beomgyu’s sanity. Beomgyu let out a quiet sigh of relief before quickly returning to his mission.

After what felt like an eternity of fumbling, Beomgyu finally cracked the code and opened the locker. His eyes darted to the box inside, and he grinned. There it is.

As Soobin’s performance escalated, so did the crowd around him. You were still distracted, your attention fixed on Soobin’s exaggerated antics. Your attention had completely shifted from the contents of your locker to the chaos before you. Soobin was tripping over himself, flailing as if he were on the verge of falling apart.

Then, in a moment of pure absurdity, Soobin’s foot caught on the edge of the hallway’s floor tiles, sending him face-first toward the ground.

You gasped, rushing forward to check if he was okay. “Soobin!” you exclaimed, crouching beside him.

“Ugh... I’m fine...” he groaned, pulling himself up, though his face was now an unflattering shade of red from the sudden fall.

You shook your head, trying not to laugh as you helped him up. “Really, Soobin? You should’ve just sneezed like you were supposed to—”

But before you could finish, you noticed that the chaos around you had died down, and Beomgyu, now holding the box, was walking away.

You couldn’t help but give Soobin a look. “This is exactly why I stay away from you two. I can’t even focus on my own locker when you’re causing a scene like this.”

Soobin grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, totally not a scene, right?”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu, having gotten away with what he thought was a flawless heist, turned to Soobin with a triumphant grin.

“Hey, good acting, my guy. You really sold it out there.”

Soobin, still rubbing his nose from the fall, plastered a grin on his face. “Haha, totally was acting…”

Beomgyu paused, staring at Soobin for a moment. “Wait, what...?” His eyes narrowed as he noticed something that had escaped him before. "Dude, your nose is bleeding!"

Soobin’s grin faltered as he instinctively wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Oh... that’s not good, is it?” he muttered, his voice tinged with the realization that his “acting” might have been a little too realistic.

Beomgyu, now fully realizing that the situation was a bit more chaotic than he’d anticipated, gave a loud, exasperated groan. “You’re really going to make this difficult for me, aren’t you, Bin?”

The day was going fine until you caught sight of Beomgyu and Soobin acting weird—really weird. Beomgyu was standing with his hands awkwardly shoved into his pockets, his eyes darting from side to side as if trying to avoid looking too suspicious. Soobin, for his part, had his arms crossed, but his usual calm demeanor was noticeably absent. He kept glancing over at Beomgyu, who was clearly sweating bullets.

You raised an eyebrow as you walked toward them. “What’s going on with you two? You’re acting like you’ve just been caught red-handed.”

Beomgyu froze, his mouth opening and closing in a clear attempt to come up with a believable excuse. After a moment of awkward silence, he blurted, “Uh... locker security inspections. Yeah. You know, just making sure everyone’s lockers are secure. It’s, uh, an important job. Can’t leave it to anyone else, right?”

You stared at him for a second, clearly not buying it. You crossed your arms and gave him a pointed look. “Really? Locker security?”

Soobin smirked slightly but didn’t say anything, choosing to let Beomgyu sweat it out. You could already tell something was off.

“Uh-huh,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, whatever. I don’t have time to question your important work. Carry on.”

You left them to their questionable business, still not entirely convinced but deciding to let it slide for now. You turned around and headed to your next class.

Meanwhile, the chaos had only just begun.

Kai was standing in front of his locker, his brows furrowed in confusion as he sifted through his things. After a moment, he slammed the door shut with a frustrated grunt and started walking around the hallway, asking anyone who would listen.

“Has anyone seen my chocolates? I swear I left them right here. They’re nowhere to be found!” Kai’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of a few nearby students.

Beomgyu froze when he overheard the frantic questioning. His heart skipped a beat, and a cold sweat began to form on his forehead. He’d been so caught up in the heist that he hadn’t even realized his mistake.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Beomgyu muttered under his breath, panic starting to creep into his voice.

Soobin, who had been watching the whole thing unfold, couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Congratulations, my friend,” Soobin said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve officially upgraded from prankster to thief.”

Beomgyu shot him an exasperated look, his anxiety mounting. “I’m not a thief, Soobin! I was just—well, it wasn’t supposed to go this far…”

Soobin laughed louder, clearly enjoying Beomgyu’s misery. “Yeah, sure. Just borrowin’ them for a bit.”

“Shut up,” Beomgyu muttered, his mind racing for a way to fix this disaster. He had to get the chocolates back to Kai before anyone else found out.

Beomgyu and Soobin hastily came up with a plan to sneak the chocolates back into Kai’s locker, but, as expected, it didn’t go smoothly.

“Alright, we’ve got this,” Beomgyu said, his voice filled with forced confidence as they approached Kai’s locker. “We just have to slip them in when no one’s looking.”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “You sure about that? Because last time you ‘just had to slip something in,’ it didn’t exactly go according to plan.”

Beomgyu shot him a glare. “Not helping, Bin.”

They crouched near Kai’s locker, trying to look casual. Soobin slowly reached into his pocket to pull out the chocolates, but, in a comical turn of events, his fingers slipped, and the box went tumbling to the ground.

It hit the floor with a loud thud, bouncing once before it rolled straight toward the edge of the stairwell.

“Oh no,” Beomgyu groaned in horror. “Not again.”

Before Soobin could react, the box plummeted down the stairs, bouncing all the way to the bottom.

“I’ll go get it!” Beomgyu shouted, immediately bolting toward the stairs, his legs moving faster than his brain. He was halfway down before he realized what he was doing. Of course this would happen.

But just as Beomgyu reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up to see a figure emerging from the hallway—Kai. Kai, who was still asking around about his missing chocolates, had somehow found his way to the same stairwell. Beomgyu’s heart raced in panic.

Trying to salvage the situation, Beomgyu immediately froze mid-run, twisting his body into an awkward, exaggerated pose. He spread his arms wide as if trying to demonstrate some kind of parkour move, landing with an overly dramatic flourish.

“Oh, hey, Kai! Just, uh, practicing some parkour,” Beomgyu said, his voice forced as he tried to act casual, even though his face was already beet red from the sheer awkwardness of it all.

Kai blinked, clearly thrown off by Beomgyu’s strange behavior, but after a brief pause, he gave a stiff nod. “Uh... alright, sure. Parkour… looks good, Beomgyu,” Kai said with a nervous laugh before quickly turning to walk away.

Beomgyu let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, his body still in that awkward position. “Parkour...” he muttered to himself, still trying to act like he hadn’t just made a fool of himself.

Once he was sure Kai was gone, Beomgyu quickly snatched the box from the floor and stuffed it into the front of his hoodie, hoping no one would notice.

Just as Beomgyu was about to stand up, feeling a brief moment of relief, you appeared in front of him, your arms crossed and a confused look on your face.

“Beomgyu… Why do you look like a lumpy kangaroo?”

Beomgyu froze, his eyes wide in panic as you stared at him, clearly noticing the suspicious bulge in his hoodie.

“What? No!” Beomgyu stammered, trying to adjust his hoodie in a way that didn’t make it look even more suspicious. “It’s just, uh, I’m carrying some books... you know, heavy books.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “Uh-huh. Definitely looks like books.”

“Yep, books!” Beomgyu said with a nervous laugh, his hand awkwardly patting the bulge in his hoodie.

You tilted your head, still not buying his excuse. “Right. Well, I’ll leave you to it then, Kangaroo Beomgyu.”

With that, you walked away, leaving Beomgyu to stand there, cursing his luck. Soobin, watching the entire interaction from a distance, couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Smooth, Beomgyu. Real smooth,” Soobin called out, his voice full of mockery.

Beomgyu just groaned in defeat, mentally preparing for the rest of his disastrous day.

You had been keeping an eye on Beomgyu all day, watching him with increasing suspicion as he passed your locker with strange frequency. At first, you thought it was just a coincidence, but after the third time, you were certain something was off.

Beomgyu had been acting a little too... flustered. He kept glancing your way, and you caught him avoiding your gaze whenever you walked by. His usual carefree demeanor had been replaced by an almost comical nervous energy. It didn't take long for you to put two and two together: he was up to something.

You had no idea what that something was, but you were determined to find out.

By the time lunch ended, you had a plan. You'd wait until Beomgyu made his move, and when he did, you'd corner him. You just had to make sure you caught him in the act.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, you spotted Beomgyu sneaking past your locker once again, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was watching. You knew it was now or never.

You quickly approached, stepping in front of him to block his path. Beomgyu froze, his eyes widening as he took an awkward step back.

“Beomgyu,” you said, crossing your arms, “What are you up to?”

Beomgyu looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights. “Uh—uh, nothing! Just heading to class!” he stammered, his voice higher than usual.

You raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “Really? You’ve been acting weird all day. What’s going on?”

He looked around, his body stiffening as if preparing for an escape. “I... uh... I’m just... checking on something... very important. Locker security!” His eyes widened as though he was suddenly convinced this was a plausible excuse.

“Locker security?” You blinked. “Beomgyu, what do you mean by ‘locker security’?”

Beomgyu tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, you know! Just making sure no one’s... tampering with lockers, or... or stealing anything, you know? Like chocolates.”

You raised an eyebrow again, clearly unconvinced. “Chocolates? Beomgyu, do you honestly think I’m buying that?”

He flustered, his voice trembling. “I mean, uh... yeah! Locker safety is really important, okay? Especially for Valentine’s chocolates! They’re... uh... high-risk items!”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “And why does that sound like a terrible excuse?”

He opened his mouth, trying to come up with something better, but nothing came out. You had him cornered, and he knew it.

“Okay, okay! Fine, you caught me!” Beomgyu blurted, a little too loudly. “I... I may have borrowed someone’s chocolates. Just for a second! You know, to... uh, check them over, make sure they’re in perfect condition for delivery!”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Wait... borrowed someone’s chocolates? Who?”

Beomgyu’s eyes darted nervously. “Uh... well, I thought it might be poisoned! I—uh—didn’t want the owner of the chocolates to get hurt, so I... I took them for a bit. You know, to make sure they were safe.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Poisoned?” You shook your head, not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed by the sheer absurdity of his excuse. “Really? You think someone is poisoning chocolates in a school locker?”

Beomgyu nodded earnestly, clearly trying to sell the lie. “Yeah! You can never be too careful with these things, right? I was just... looking out for the owner’s safety!”

Before you could respond, you noticed something—Beomgyu was holding a box of chocolates wrapped in dark red paper. You’d seen that box before. In fact, you knew whose it was.

Kai’s.

You stared at him, realization dawning. “That’s Kai’s chocolates,” you said slowly, your voice flat. “What are you doing with them?”

Beomgyu froze, his face pale. “Uh... Kai’s chocolates... I didn’t steal them, it wasn’t me! I... uh... I was just... returning them!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Returning them?”

“Yes! Exactly! I just thought... Well, uh, I was just being a good Samaritan!” Beomgyu smiled awkwardly, but his charm wasn’t working this time.

Just as you were about to respond, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for those!” Kai said, walking toward you with a confused expression. “Where did my chocolates go?”

You and Beomgyu both turned to look at him. Beomgyu looked like he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Kai! Hey, uh, these... these are yours?” Beomgyu asked weakly, trying to act nonchalant as he awkwardly held the box out to Kai.

“Yeah, those are mine,” Kai said, raising an eyebrow. “But... why do you have them?”

Beomgyu gulped. “I... I was just—uh... you know, checking them out! Making sure they’re... uh... still good? It’s a... safety measure!”

Kai glanced at you, clearly trying to piece everything together. “Okay, I’m not really following. Why do you have them, Beomgyu?”

Beomgyu’s face flushed red as he tried to come up with an excuse, but before he could speak, you interrupted. “Wait a second. I get it now. You’ve been after my chocolates the whole time, haven’t you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No! I was just—”

“Admit it, Gyu,” you interrupted, your voice soft but firm. “You thought these were mine, and you took them because you didn’t want me giving them to someone else.”

Beomgyu froze. He opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. The guilt on his face was obvious.

You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Okay, okay, I admit it!” Beomgyu finally blurted, his voice frantic. “I took the chocolates because I didn’t want you to give them to anyone else, okay? I didn’t know how to tell you! I just—ugh, I didn’t want to see you giving them to someone else!”

Kai chuckled behind him. “Well, now this is getting interesting.”

You stood there, shocked by his confession. “Gyu... I made those chocolates for someone special,” you said softly, letting the words sink in.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Wait... what? Then... who...?”

You pulled a second box of chocolates from your bag, the real ones—the ones you’d made just for him—and held them out to him. “I made them for you, you dummy” you said softly.

For a moment, Beomgyu stood there, completely speechless. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. He stared at the box in your hand as though it might disappear any second.

“You made them for me?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You smiled, nodding. “Yeah. I figured you might need a little extra push to admit how you felt.”

Beomgyu’s eyes softened, and slowly, a wide grin spread across his face. “I... I can’t believe you’d do that for me.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Well, someone had to keep you on your toes.”

Beomgyu took the chocolates from you, his hands shaking slightly as he held them. “I... I don’t deserve these,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I just... made everything worse.”

You gave him a teasing grin. “It’s okay, Beomgyu. You were just a little jealous. But I’m glad you figured it out.”

He looked up at you, his usual confidence flickering back into his eyes, although there was still a hint of nervousness. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, still holding the chocolates. “Next time, I’ll just steal your heart instead.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back your smile. “Good luck with that, Beomgyu.”

“So,” Kai interrupted, leaning in with a smirk, “When’s the wedding?”

You shot him a glare, but inside, you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you. Maybe this chaotic Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

After the chaos settled down and Beomgyu was left to deal with the teasing, Soobin and Kai found a quiet spot near the school courtyard, watching the scene unfold in front of them. Beomgyu, still holding the box of chocolates, was getting playfully scolded by you. He looked embarrassed but happy at the same time—quite the rare sight.

Soobin crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on Beomgyu. “Why do I let him talk me into these things?” he muttered, shaking his head.

Kai, who had been smirking the entire time, glanced at Soobin. “Because you secretly love it,” he teased, giving his friend a knowing look.

Soobin shot him a look of disbelief. “No. I just don’t want him to cause more damage.”

Kai chuckled, nodding in agreement as they both watched Beomgyu finally get a teasing shove from you. “Yeah, it’s probably the best you can do, trying to keep him out of trouble.”

The two of them exchanged a look, clearly rooting for you and Beomgyu to get together. Soobin sighed, but there was a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I swear, this guy never learns.”

“So,” Soobin continued, glancing over at Kai with curiosity, “Who are you giving those chocolates to?”

Kai raised an eyebrow, the mischievous glint never leaving his eyes. “Oh, no one,” he said casually. “I bought them for myself at the 7-Eleven in front of the school. They were on sale, so why not?”

Soobin stared at him, unamused. “Then why the hell were you looking for it like a mad man earlier?”

Kai shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Hey! I’m not letting my money go to waste.”

Soobin shook his head, but a laugh escaped him anyway. “You're unbelievable.”

Kai just grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Hey, it’s all about the deals, my friend. Want some”

Soobin rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, turning his attention back to Beomgyu. "I still can’t believe the two get along so well," he muttered. "The chaos is real."

Kai snickered, glancing over at Beomgyu again. "They’re a match made in disaster. Honestly, I’m just here for the drama.”

Soobin sighed again, but there was no hiding the amusement in his expression now. "I can’t believe I’m actually looking forward to seeing how this mess turns out."

Kai grinned even wider. "I think it’s about to get interesting."

And so, despite all the chaos, The Great Valentine Heist was, in its own twisted way, a success. Beomgyu got the chocolates he’d been after (well, sort of), you finally got to admit your feelings, and even Soobin and Kai found themselves oddly satisfied with the results. After all, what’s a little mayhem between friends? Maybe, just maybe, there was something sweet to be found in all the madness.

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: Surprise!! Here's a fic for you guys to enjoy to start of february~ This was supposed to be posted ON valentine's but decided against it to make space for the collab so you'll get it early. Celebrating the start of February. No angst today since this month is all about love and sweet stuff, so I'll spare your tears for once (maybe saving them for the collab). Luv y'all!!

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

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