izzybizzyk

[izzybizzyk]

normalize making the titles of your chapters song titles. i feel like it can show so much about what will happen in the chapter

[izzybizzyk]

yeah this didn't age well...

i kinda gave up on that and started writing something completely original but i write as quick as a two month old so bare with me

i am mainly working on it on wattpad so if you would like to check it out there when it is posted this is my user : izzylou7

love you guys!

girl im BEGGING.

PLEASE MAKE A SERIES I NEED MORE CHISHIYA ONES AGGHHH

OMGGG

im happy to announce it is in the works!!! it will probably take awhile but i have the prologue done

The Fall will be coming your way soon and thank you to all the love you guys have shown me so far🩷

[izzybizzyk]

Do y'all ever read a fic so good that it makes you want to elevate your own craft and also befriend the writer? It's almost like, "Hi! You write so well that you've inspired me to embark on a creative training arc. Also, can I yell about the character in your dms because you get it?"

[izzybizzyk]

ily girl thank you so much

hardcore smut babes. chishiya x reader and i need him to be rough but also praising you at the same time??? idk what im talking about but im sure you will make it great ilysm

You Can Take It

Shuntarō Chishiya x F!Reader

Summary: Being a doctor is hard work, only you can make it better.

Content Warning: NSFW (18+); porn with a little plot, smutty smut, just smut fr, daddy kink (you know why, say it with me), a little more of a rough Chishiya, Chishiya is OOC (let's pretend he is changed by Borderland, hm?), curse words

I won't tell anyone what or what not to do, but please interact responsibly ✨️

A/N: One hardcore/praise smutfic feat. Doctor Chishiya for @izzybizzyk 🫶🏻🌹

Not sure what possessed me to choose Doctor Chishiya for this, but damn I am glad for it YUM 🥵 I should have had him use the fucking belt, MISSED OPPORTUNITY (next time?)

Chishiya sighs as the warm, tranquil feeling of home washes over him; the blend of dinner cooking and your favorite bergamot candle flooding his senses. Today was the worst kind of day, filled with all the things he hated most about being a doctor; rich assholes being prioritized over sick children, entitled parents berating him over things he had no control over, the hospital being short-staffed as always - leaving the staff who were present being spread far too thinly to perform efficiently. It was all too much, and he needed relief. Needed you.

The melodic sound of your humming floats from the kitchen, echoing lightly through your shared home. Your husband imagines how pretty and soft you must look as you flit effortlessly about the space cooking for the two of you, his dress pants growing a little tighter. You are no doubt his favorite distraction from the world outside your sweet bubble of home, his stress from the day shifting quickly to desire for you.

Chishiya finds you at the stove facing away from him, still dressed in a buttoned floral blouse with the sleeves rolled up and a flowing black skirt that swirls around you as you sway to the song you're humming. He stifles a low groan as he approaches your unsuspecting form; left hand landing easily at your hip and his right arm snaking to hug your shoulders, pulling you back gently against his chest as he rocks with you to the music only you can hear. His hungry lips find the sweet spot where your neck meets your shoulder, eagerly sucking a colorful bruise to the surface of your delicate skin. His.

You're shaken from your own little world at his touch, gasping in surprise that your husband's finally home. You quickly melt into his arms as the clinical scent of the hospital lingering on his clothes infiltrates your senses. "Chishiya! Baby, you scared me," you chuckle, placing a hand to your chest for dramatic effect. "How was your day?" you inquire sweetly, just as kind and soft as he knew you would be tonight, completely oblivious to how turned on tense he was behind you.

He takes a beat to answer - fully invested in decorating your neck with his teeth and tongue, drawing languid moans from you. He wanted to ruin you. A Cheshire grin spreads across his face, teeth now nipping along the shell of your ear as his slender fingers ghost at your throat. "It's not Chishiya to you, not tonight," he murmurs, voice gruff and strained with something you recognize from his many years working in the hospital. Stress, desire, aching. His large thumb presses tightly against your pulse point, your quickened heart rate thumping back telling him you were just as excited for this as he was.

A pant of desire falls from your lips, experimentally grinding back against your husband's hardening member, the friction making the man gasp against your neck. You feel sinful shockwaves of excitement radiate straight to your core - Chishiya was not going to be gentle with you tonight. "Daddy?" You mewl hesitantly, unsure if this was the direction he was trying to take things, but hopeful that it was. Your husband acting like this - feral for you - was a rare occurrence, and you would always take advantage of it when you could.

The man behind you tenses, hands that had been skimming over your ribcage now frozen in place. You feel his hardened cock twitch in his dress pants against you, a low growl erupting deep within his chest. He knew he didn't give you this treatment often enough, that you would be desperate and dripping for him. And tonight, that's just what the doctor ordered.

He hums in approval, a sound more akin to a snarl, "Daddy had a bad day, kitten. Be a good girl and make him feel better." The most beautiful whimper leaves your lips when your husband spins you around to face him, shoving you roughly to the waxed tiled floor at his feet. The way you look up at him from your knees takes Chishiya's breath away - yes, this is exactly what he needed.

Your nimble fingers are quick to find his belt, eagerly yanking the piece of leather apart with a tiny clink of the buckle and granting you access into his slacks. You pull his cock out victoriously, mouth watering. He's already hard, leaking, throbbing before you even had him freed of the confines of his pants. The poor man is desperate for your touch, who are you to deny him? Chishiya hisses when you press your full, blushed lips in a chaste kiss to his tip, smearing his salty arousal along your lips. You love this part of your trysts, as evidenced by the way you're already soaking your panties, kissing and licking your husband's cock like the best lollipop you've ever had.

A now impatient growl leaves Chishiya's lips, his fingers roughly pinning back the curtain of hair that had been hiding your pretty face from him. He certainly couldn't have that. In an uncharacteristic move for the normally composed man, he bucks his hips forward, driving his cock through your lips and forcefully hitting the back of your throat. The sudden intrusion has you momentarily choking and sputtering against him, tears springing to the corners of your shining eyes. You recover masterfully, relaxing your throat and groaning deeply around his length, sending glorious vibrations through his body and straight to his core.

"Good girl," Chishiya whimpers, his hips rutting against you as he fucks your face, aching balls slapping against your chin with the force of his thrusts. His whimper of praise goes straight to your slick heat, pridefully relishing in the way you make him feel. "You're such a good fucking wife on your knees for me," he groans, glassy eyes studying your hollowed cheeks, the way you take every inch of his cock into your perfect mouth. Your eyebrows knit in your own pleasure, your cunt dripping. Life the perfect wife you are, you massage his sensitive balls with your left hand, the right digging sharp nail imprints into his ass as you draw him closer to you, nose kissing his pelvis with each drive of his hips.

Your husband's breaths come quicker and shallower on your quest towards his impending orgasm, his abdomen flexing as you take his veiny length against your tongue. The way you look up at him through tear-soaked eyelashes, soft locks entangled messily in his hands, has him whining unintelligible praises and soft, broken words.

"It's too good, angel. Fuck," he snarls, head falling back in pleasure. As much as he wants to cum like this, fucking into your pretty mouth wrapped tight around him, he pulls himself away with a wet pop.

You scowl adorably up at him with drool dripping down your chin, eyes narrowed in offense, expecting to have been fed by his hot cum shooting into your throat. "Daddy?" you question the man already yanking you up off the floor, breathless and far past desperation. "Gotta cum in your tight pussy, baby. Let me wreck you," The breath is knocked from your lungs when Chishiya's splayed palm shoves your torso down over the polished granite countertop, sending spice bottles and clean dishes clattering to the floor. The mess he makes of the kitchen only further excites him, his adrenaline coursing hotly through his body like a fever. He makes quick work of flipping your flowing skirt up and out of his way, dexterous digits sliding your panties to the side and diving between your slippery folds.

"So wet for Daddy, hm? You love choking on my cock that much?" You can only whimper, your husband's rough thumb pad brushing teasingly over your swollen clit. His thick middle finger thrusts into your hole at a steady pace, curling into the spongey spot that has you instantly seeing stars. You gasp wildly, clenching around him; the man smiling wickedly at the desperate way your body responds to him. He isn't gentle about adding his ring finger, breath hitching at the way you shudder against the cool metal of his wedding band. You're soon sobbing against the counter, head thrown in your arms as you climb your own precipice.

The rounded edge of the countertop digs into your abdomen as Chishiya covers you with his body weight, folding you in half against the surface. He pulls his fingers coated in your sweet arousal out, leaving you empty and clenched around nothing as he loops his fingers into your panties, removing the garment entirely from your body. Without warning, your husband's full length plunges into your dripping channel, your body contorting into a deep arch as you cry out in a mixture of shock and pleasure. You would never get used to his size. Chishiya relishes in the way your hips wriggle under him, gripping onto your throat with one hand, the other pressing into the small of your back in appreciation of your flexibility.

Your husband sets a brutal pace for the two of you, a wild, wrecked, feral sort of rhythm; his hands gripped so hard against your hips you knew there would be bruises to commemorate this session. Your tight cunt is stretched deliciously around his girth, your sopping heat enthusiastically absorbing the brunt of his stress. The sound of your arousal is dizzying, every slap of Chishiya's skin against your own echoing around the kitchen. "Fuck, you take me so well. This pussy was made for my cock, wasn't it?" he demands breathlessly, mind becoming hazy with lust. Your body responds violently to your husband's filthy words, your legs beginning to shake underneath you.

His cock beating against your cervix with a hard, deep cadence quickly ruins your existence. Just as he'd promised. The tight press of his fingertips against your throat, the snap of his hips into yours, the cool press of the countertop you're being fucked into, all converging and shattering your reality; your orgasm nearly drowning you in intensity as you clench around your husband's length. "Daddy!" you cry out desperately, unable to see or hear anything beyond euphoric pleasure.

Chishiya himself groans in ecstasy, the fluttering of your perfect pussy driving his own orgasm. "Fuck, baby. You're so good for me. Gonna cum, gonna fill this perfect pussy," he warns, delivering several more bruising thrusts that send you roughly into the countertop. Hot cum spurts out of him in ropes, filling your pussy and then some, his seed mixing with your juices and overflowing onto the pristine white floors.

Normally Chishiya would be done after cumming, would scoop you into his arms and coo apologies for taking his frustrations out on you. This time, though? His form remains tense. His hips don't even slow as you begin to approach overstimulation, the ridges of his cock imprinting themselves inside your tight hole. Your husband is drunk on the way his cum drips out of your pussy, gathering erotically around where the two of you are still joined together.

He still needs more. He's mesmerized by the way you writhe under him as he slams his cock deeper and deeper into you. "S-so deep, Daddy. T-too much," you mewl breathlessly, cockdrunk and keening for the man behind you.

"Come on sweetheart, you can take it," he coos mockingly, his length twitching inside you as he dominates over you. With one strong arm, he pulls your torso up to be flush against his chest, sharp teeth expertly finding his reddened mark from earlier. His free hand yanks at the delicate buttons of your pretty floral blouse, sending them cascading across the floor with force. Even through your fucked out haze you glare up at your husband for ruining your shirt, making him grin against your saliva covered skin. You're so precious to him. He'll buy you a million more shirts if you keep looking at him like that forever.

Your entire body trembles for him, unintelligible whines and moans being sung from your perfect lips, absolutely devastated and broken by him. He leans down to capture them in a wrathful kiss, never breaking stride as he pistons in and out of your pussy. With no effort at all, Chishiya has you flipped over onto your back, your shoulders resting against the counter and his body supporting the rest of your weight. It's not a particularly good or stable position, but the angle it allows your husband's cock to penetrate you is beyond worth the pain.

Your pussy tightens again around Chishiya's length, inducing another savage growl from the man. Talented fingers easily find your swollen clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive nub and making you gush arousal around him. "Look at how you soak me, baby. You needed this didn't you?" Your husband snarls. You nod your head weakly, broken whimpers and moans falling fast from your lips.

"Words, pretty thing. Tell Daddy how much you needed him to wreck you tonight," the man all but begs, his second orgasm cresting over the horizon. "I needed it Daddy! Please please make me cum," you beg, tears streaking down your face. Chishiya moans, fucking into you harder, faster, more brutally than before, "Cum for me, pretty baby." The sounds of your coupling are obscene, compounding with the slight pain from the position, and the absolute sinful pleasure he delivers you send you over the edge with a broken cry.

Your second orgasm shatters around you, freezing your body in place on the counter with your head thrown back against the granite; your pussy and legs spasming almost painfully with the force. You're cockdrunk and babbling incoherently, Chishiya burying himself to the hilt inside you as he spills deep inside your womb once more with a feral growl of bliss. He lifts you effortlessly to sit more comfortably on the countertop, sweaty forehead resting against yours. Both of your bodies shake in overstimulation and satisfaction, Chishiya's stress completely melted away.

For several moments, the only sounds that can be heard are your wrecked breathing, the clock ticking noisily on the wall, and the burning sizzle of the dinner you'd both long forgotten about.

Your beautiful glassy eyes find his, a hand coming up to card through his sweaty, messy locks. "Do you want to talk about it?" you finally ask him, so much love and understanding filling your eyes. The man smiles, turning to soak a towel in warm water before gently rubbing it through your folds to clean up your combined mess. When he's cared for you with great attention to detail, he presses a long, tender kiss to your swollen lips. "I think I worked it out of my system, thank you sweetheart," he says with a prideful smirk. You hum in acknowledgement, breath finally evening to a normal pace as you relax boneless against your husband's shoulder. Chishiya gratefully holds you there, rubbing one hand soothingly along your back, cooing, "My good girl. My perfect girl." You're nearly dozing off from the serenity of the moment, Chishiya pressing kisses to the side of your head and forehead, coaxing you to succumb to the rest you deserve.

Suddenly you shoot up in alarm, pulling quickly away from Chishiya and jumping down to shaky legs, "Our dinner!"

Chishiya stifles a laugh at the completely burnt and smoking food you'd been painstakingly making earlier. "Let's just order takeout and I'll run you a bath, hm?"

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Everything Tag List: @potato-vagina @28361573 @maxinehufflepuffprincess @mocchii-writes @monkey4lifer @trinibadgyal @izzybizzyk

Masterlist

Chishiya Tag List: @kimsrie @jjkxxy

Please don't hesitate to let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) any of my tag lists! You can specify if there's a character you like or if you want to see everything. Also, my asks and messages are open, PLEASE reach out, I would literally die to interact with you; ily guys endlessly 💕✨️

[izzybizzyk]

nothing to see here i promise.....

Accidentally clicking on tumblr when showing somebody something on my phone and the most outrageous booty clenching smut is the first thing that comes up

[izzybizzyk]

i can hear the lost sounds of this tour in my veins

“you’re so funny” thanks no one wanted to play with me as a little kid so i’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since to make them love me and make it seem effortless

[izzybizzyk]

i need to see some emotion in that man😭🙏

anybody willing to join the manifestation circle

we're manifesting a chishiya crying scene in s3 of aib btw

[izzybizzyk]

writing? oh, i’m definitely writing. in my head. during the most inconvenient times. like in the shower or when i’m about to fall asleep. actual typing? no, no, we don’t do that here.

[izzybizzyk]

you can tell a lot about a guy by the stuff you make up in your head about him

[izzybizzyk]

girl im BEGGING.

PLEASE MAKE A SERIES I NEED MORE CHISHIYA ONES AGGHHH

OMGGG

im happy to announce it is in the works!!! it will probably take awhile but i have the prologue done

The Fall will be coming your way soon and thank you to all the love you guys have shown me so far🩷

[izzybizzyk]

hey guys

hi so would you guys like for me to write a series? it probably wont be for a while because if i were to write one i would probably write the whole thing before posting any of it because i procrastinate and take too much time and i dont want to leave you guys hanging for weeks on end for the next part

i think if i were to do a series it would probably be chishiya from alice in borderland cause i love him sm and have so many ideas.

some of my ideas aren't original because im influenced HEAVILY by other creators. for example i love the idea of making the main character niragis little brother because it makes a good backstory for chishiya and niragis rivalry but ive already seen so many people do it and i dont want to take their amazing ideas. it also probably wont be as good as any of theirs

nevertheless i would still consider doing it if you guys want it. if you have any other suggestions please let me know i love to hear your feeback

thank you! - izzy

3.7.25

[izzybizzyk]

please guys😭

[izzybizzyk]

EVERYTHING I'VE WRITTEN

hello!!! these are all my works and my requests are open!

ALICE IN BORDERLAND

In the Midst Of Chaos - Chishiya x Reader

Between Life and Death - Chishiya x Reader

SQUID GAME

Beneath the Surface - Jun-ho X Reader

XO KITTY

Unexpected Valentine - Min-ho X Reader

last updated: 3.7.25

[izzybizzyk]

Between Life and Death (Chishiya x You - AIB)

The Borderlands had taken everything from you.

Your home. Your family. Your sense of safety.

But they couldn’t take him.

Chishiya had always been the one constant in your life—even before this nightmare began. Before the games, before the bloodshed, before every step you took felt like walking a razor’s edge. You had grown up together, running through the streets of Tokyo, him always two steps ahead, always watching, always calculating.

And now, in this hellscape, he was still here.

Even after everything, he was still here.

The night air burned in your lungs as you ran, your boots slamming against cracked pavement.

Behind you, gunshots rang out—too close. Too damn close.

“Keep moving,” Chishiya’s voice was low but sharp, pushing you forward. His fingers brushed against your wrist for only a second before he was gone again, slipping through the shadows like a ghost.

Your body ached, the wound in your side screaming with every step. Blood soaked through your shirt, dripping onto the concrete, leaving a trail behind you. Shit. They’d follow the blood.

You turned a sharp corner, ducking into the skeleton of an abandoned building. The walls were crumbling, windows shattered, glass crunching beneath your feet.

Chishiya was already there, waiting in the dark. His pale hair was streaked with someone else’s blood, his hoodie torn at the shoulder, but his expression was as unreadable as ever.

“Here,” he muttered, grabbing your arm and pulling you deeper into the ruins. “Sit.”

You collapsed against the cold wall, chest heaving, pain spreading like fire through your ribs.

Chishiya crouched beside you, pulling his backpack forward. “You’re bleeding too much,” he observed, eyes flicking down to your wound.

“No shit,” you hissed, wincing as he yanked your shirt up just enough to get a better look. His fingers were warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the cold, merciless world outside.

He worked quickly, pressing a wad of gauze against the wound. You flinched, a sharp gasp slipping through your lips. His jaw clenched.

“You should’ve let me handle it back there.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Yeah? And let you play the hero?”

Chishiya scoffed. “I don’t play hero.”

You knew that. Chishiya didn’t play hero.

He played survivor.

And yet, he was here, patching you up. Staying by your side.

His hands were steady as he wrapped the bandage around your torso, fingers brushing against your skin just enough to send something else burning through your veins—something that had nothing to do with pain.

You weren’t sure when it happened, when the looks he gave you started lasting just a little too long, when the space between you started feeling too heavy, too charged.

But now? Sitting here, his face inches from yours, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin—you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

You swallowed hard. “You should go.”

Chishiya didn’t move.

His hands lingered just a second too long before finally pulling back, his gaze locking onto yours. His eyes—sharp, piercing—held something you had never seen before.

“I’m not leaving you,” he said simply.

Your heart slammed against your ribs. “Chishiya—”

His lips were on yours before you could finish.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was desperate, almost rough, as if he had been holding back for too long and finally, finally let himself give in.

Your hands found his hoodie, gripping the fabric tightly as you pulled him closer. His fingers curled against your jaw, tilting your face up as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing against yours just enough to make you forget about the pain.

The sound of another gunshot shattered the moment.

Chishiya pulled back instantly, his breath uneven, eyes sharp as they darted toward the entrance.

You exhaled, the loss of his warmth leaving you cold. “Shit. They’re still hunting us.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet. “We need to move. Now.”

You gritted your teeth against the pain, nodding as you followed him. The adrenaline was wearing off, but you couldn’t stop now.

The two of you slipped through the ruins, staying low, keeping to the shadows. Your fingers grazed Chishiya’s for a second before he caught your hand completely, his grip tight, unrelenting.

“You’re bleeding,” you whispered.

He didn’t look at you, just kept pulling you forward. “So are you.”

The streets were empty—too empty. A trap.

Chishiya stopped suddenly, his grip on you tightening. His head tilted slightly, listening. Waiting.

Then—

A flicker of movement.

Left.

You barely had time to react before a figure lunged from the darkness. You twisted, but pain shot through your body, slowing you down—too slow—

A gunshot.

The man dropped, blood pooling beneath his head.

You whipped around to see Chishiya lowering the smoking gun, his expression completely blank.

But his fingers—his fingers were still wrapped tightly around yours, like he wasn’t sure he could let go.

For the first time in a long, long time, Chishiya looked afraid.

Not for himself.

For you.

Your throat tightened. “You didn’t have to—”

His grip on your wrist yanked you forward, his lips crashing against yours again, harder this time. This wasn’t hesitation—this was frustration, anger, relief.

A confession without words.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. “Don’t make me do that again,” he muttered.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “No promises.”

His smirk was faint, but it was there. “Of course not.”

Another shot rang out, forcing you both back into reality.

Chishiya exhaled sharply, stepping away—but he didn’t let go of your hand.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get out of here.”

And this time, when he pulled you forward, you followed.

Not because you had to.

But because for the first time, in a world that had taken everything, you had something to hold onto.

And you weren’t letting go.

[izzybizzyk]

In the Midst of Chaos - Chishiya (AIB) x Y/N

The Borderlands never let you forget that you were never safe. Even in the stillness of the night, the tension never truly faded. Every shadow could hide an enemy. Every sound could be the beginning of another fight for survival.

But here, in the dim light of an abandoned convenience store, with Chishiya sitting across from you, the danger felt distant.

Not gone—never gone—but quieter.

He was watching you, his sharp eyes flickering in the low glow of the lantern. Chishiya had always been unreadable, his thoughts locked behind smirks and lazy remarks, but you had been around him long enough to notice the subtle things. The way his fingers tapped idly against the counter, the slight shift in his posture when he was actually paying attention.

And right now? He was paying attention.

You tossed him a snack from your bag, and he caught it without looking, rolling it between his fingers before finally meeting your gaze.

“You’re staring,” he said smoothly.

You scoffed, leaning back against the shelf behind you. “So are you.”

His lips curled into the faintest smirk. “Maybe I’m just admiring your survival skills.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

There it was—that teasing edge, the playful distance he always kept between you. But tonight, something felt different. The space between you wasn’t just physical—it was charged, like an invisible thread was pulling you closer, testing just how much distance he was willing to keep.

You studied him, searching for a crack in his usual cool demeanor. “You could’ve left me behind so many times,” you murmured. “But you didn’t.”

Chishiya didn’t answer right away. He just tilted his head, his smirk flickering—just for a second—before he let out a quiet chuckle.

“Maybe I enjoy having you around,” he said, his voice softer this time, almost reluctant.

Your heart pounded harder than it should have. There it was.

He never said things outright, never gave too much away. But this? This was something real.

Slowly, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the counter between you. “Say it again,” you challenged, watching him closely.

Chishiya exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

He met your eyes then, and for once, he didn’t look away. The air between you grew heavy, thick with something unspoken. He was testing you, just like you were testing him, waiting to see who would break first.

Then, so subtly you almost missed it, his fingers brushed against yours on the counter. A barely-there touch, lingering just long enough to send a shiver up your spine.

You didn’t move away. Neither did he.

Your breath caught. The tension was unbearable now, stretching between you like a wire ready to snap.

And then it did.

Chishiya moved first.

One second, he was sitting there, unreadable as ever. The next, he was right there, closing the space between you, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was both careful and calculated—like he had weighed every possible consequence before finally deciding to take the risk.

His hand found your wrist, his grip firm but not demanding. He was waiting, giving you the chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

Instead, you leaned in, deepening the kiss just enough to feel the way his breath hitched ever so slightly, to feel the way his fingers tightened around yours like he had just realized he didn’t want to let go.

When he finally pulled back, his lips barely ghosting over yours, you could still feel the warmth of him, the electricity still buzzing between you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, Chishiya smirked. “So, does this mean you’re officially on my team?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “I think we both know I’ve been on your team for a while.”

Chishiya didn’t argue. He just watched you with that same quiet intensity, the corners of his mouth still curved in amusement—but there was something else in his eyes now.

Something real.

And in a world where everything was a game, that was the rarest thing of all.

[izzybizzyk]

Unexpected Valentine - Min ho Moon x Y/N

A/N: hiii this is my first writing i hope you enjoyy

contains: fluff and romance

Y/N had never been a huge fan of Valentine’s Day. It always felt a little forced—the grand gestures, the overpriced chocolates, the pressure to be in a relationship. But as they walked through KISS’s decorated halls, filled with pink and red streamers, heart-shaped balloons, and way too many couples holding hands, they couldn’t help but feel a little… left out.

“Ugh,” Y/N muttered under their breath, clutching their books tighter.

“Let me guess,” a familiar voice drawled from behind. “You’re one of those people who pretend to hate Valentine’s Day because you’ve never had a proper date.”

Y/N turned around and groaned. “Minho.”

Minho Moon stood there, effortlessly cool as always, in his perfectly pressed uniform and an annoyingly smug grin. His hair was styled like he’d just stepped off a movie set, and the confidence in his posture made it clear he knew it.

“I don’t hate Valentine’s Day,” Y/N said, rolling their eyes. “I just think it’s overrated.”

Minho scoffed. “Right. Says the person glaring at the happy couples like they personally offended you.”

“I’m not glaring—”

“Sure you’re not,” Minho cut in. “Come on, Y/N, you’ve got to admit, it’s at least fun to watch people stress over confessions and gifts.”

Y/N sighed. “I’d rather avoid the whole thing.”

Minho tilted his head, studying them for a moment. “So, you don’t care if you don’t get a Valentine?”

Y/N raised a brow. “Nope.”

“Good,” Minho said, slipping something into their hands. “Then you won’t mind this.”

Y/N looked down, confused, and their breath caught. A small, expensive-looking box of chocolates sat in their palm, wrapped in gold ribbon.

“What—”

Minho smirked. “Don’t read too much into it. I just thought you looked pathetic, walking around all bitter while everyone else was celebrating.”

Y/N stared at him, speechless. “You’re giving me pity chocolate?”

Minho shrugged. “Call it whatever you want.”

For a second, Y/N didn’t know what to say. But then they noticed the slight pink dusting his cheeks, the way he avoided their gaze just a little too long.

“Minho,” Y/N said slowly, a teasing smile forming. “Did you actually get me a Valentine?”

Minho scoffed, turning away. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Y/N laughed. “You totally did.”

“Shut up,” Minho muttered, walking off before they could see the deeper blush creeping up his neck.

Y/N looked down at the chocolates again, warmth spreading in their chest. Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

[izzybizzyk]

Beneath the Surface

The rain painted Seoul in a haze of neon reflections, the streets wet and glistening under dim streetlights. The air smelled of damp asphalt and coffee drifting from the small café where Y/N stood, hands buried in their coat pockets. Their breath curled in soft clouds in the cold air, but their mind was far from the weather.

It had been weeks. Weeks of silence. Weeks of uncertainty.

Jun-ho had a habit of disappearing without notice, but this time felt different. No texts. No cryptic “I’ll explain later” calls. Just a gaping void where he used to be.

Y/N had told themselves they wouldn’t wait around for him anymore. That they wouldn’t let his silence make a fool of them. And yet, here they were. Standing outside a café in the rain, heart jumping at every passing figure.

Then they saw him.

Jun-ho walked toward them with his usual quiet presence, his gaze scanning every shadow before settling on them. His dark hair was damp, strands clinging to his forehead. His coat was slightly unbuttoned, and underneath, Y/N could make out the faint outline of his gun holster.

But what worried them most wasn’t the gun.

It was the bruise along his jaw. The way his shoulders held tension like he was still bracing for a fight. The exhaustion pooling in his eyes.

Y/N swallowed down the urge to demand where he had been, what had happened to him. Instead, they exhaled sharply and crossed their arms.

“You’re late.”

Jun-ho’s lips twitched, but there was no real humor in them. “I know.”

Y/N searched his face. “Are you okay?”

A pause. Then the lie. “I’m fine.”

Y/N let out a quiet scoff. Same old Jun-ho. “You look like hell.”

Jun-ho huffed a breath, the closest thing to a laugh he could manage right now. “Good to see you too.”

Silence settled between them, thick and heavy, as the rain continued to fall around them. Y/N hated this part—this dance they always did. The one where they waited for him to let them in while he waited for them to stop asking.

They sighed. “At least come inside and eat something before you disappear again.”

Jun-ho hesitated. But then, with a slow nod, he followed them inside.

The café was warm, golden light casting soft shadows along the walls. It was nearly empty this late at night, just a few scattered customers—an elderly man sipping tea, a student typing away on a laptop, a couple sitting close in the corner, whispering between sips of coffee.

Y/N led Jun-ho to a table near the window, sliding into the seat across from him. They ordered two coffees and a sandwich—because they knew Jun-ho wouldn’t order for himself, and God knew when he last ate a proper meal.

Jun-ho sat stiffly, back straight, eyes still flicking toward the door like he couldn’t shake the habit of always being on alert. His fingers curled around the coffee cup when it arrived, but he didn’t drink it right away. He just held it, as if trying to soak in the warmth.

Y/N studied him for a moment before speaking. “When was the last time you slept?”

Jun-ho let out a quiet chuckle. “You sound like my boss.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He sighed, rubbing his temple. “A few nights ago.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “A few?”

Jun-ho looked down at his coffee. He didn’t need to say more. They knew what that meant.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Y/N murmured, voice softer now.

Jun-ho didn’t respond right away. His gaze was distant, as if he was somewhere else entirely.

Then, suddenly, he spoke. “I don’t deserve this.”

Y/N blinked. “Deserve what?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely—to the coffee, the warmth of the café, to them. “You.”

Y/N felt their chest tighten. “Jun-ho…”

He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You should be with someone who doesn’t disappear for weeks. Someone who doesn’t come back covered in bruises and lies.”

Y/N swallowed. “And yet, here I am.”

He finally met their eyes, and for the first time that night, his mask cracked. There was something raw in his gaze, something vulnerable.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N reached across the table, hesitating for only a moment before wrapping their fingers around his. His hand was cold, his grip firm but uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if he had the right to hold on.

“Then don’t,” Y/N whispered.

A muscle in his jaw tensed. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging just a little. He didn’t argue. He didn’t pull away.

For a moment, they just sat there, hands intertwined, the rain tapping gently against the window.

And for tonight—just for tonight—he let himself stay.

But Jun-ho never stayed for long.

A week passed before he disappeared again. No messages. No calls.

Y/N told themselves they wouldn’t wait. But when another week passed, they found themselves staring at their phone more often than they cared to admit.

Then, late one night, a knock came at their door.

Heart pounding, Y/N rushed to open it.

Jun-ho stood there, bruised and exhausted, rain dripping from his coat. His breathing was heavy, his eyes searching theirs as if afraid of what he might find.

Y/N wanted to be angry. They wanted to demand an explanation. But the words died on their tongue when they saw it—the silent plea in his gaze.

“I had nowhere else to go,” Jun-ho admitted, voice hoarse.

Y/N exhaled, stepping aside to let him in.

“You always have somewhere to go,” they murmured.

Jun-ho hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside, into the warmth of the home he never realized he had.

This time, he stayed.