#kpop g dragon

[loveesiren]

Choi Seunghyun x reader virgin🤭 (if you are comfortable)

𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎

Choi Seung-hyun (T.O.P) x virgin!reader

synopsis: Y/n decides her boyfriend, Seunghyun, should be her first

warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, fluffy goodness

wc: 3.7k+

Lazy days like today were your favorite. There was something so blissful about having no obligations, no responsibilities pulling either of you away. It was your day off, and for once, Seunghyun didn’t have to be at the studio or in rehearsal. After months of back-to-back shows and endless travel, BigBang had finally wrapped up their tour, and all he wanted was to spend every possible second with you.

You still remembered the night you met him like it was yesterday. A year ago, you had been working a shift at the event center, slinging drinks for excited fans after the concert. He had walked up to the bar, all confidence and charisma, ordering a glass of wine with that signature smirk of his. What was supposed to be a quick drink turned into an hour-and-a-half-long conversation, laughter weaving between you like an unspoken connection. His manager had practically dragged him away, but not before he scribbled his number on a napkin and told you to call him. And now, a year later, three months into your official relationship, you had never been happier.

Both of you were private people, and that suited you just fine. There had been rumors, of course—whispers in fan circles, pictures snapped of the two of you together—but neither of you had confirmed nor denied anything. Instead, you lived in your own little world, undisturbed by outside noise. Seunghyun treated you like royalty, taking you to lavish restaurants, surprising you with bouquets of flowers and little gifts, constantly reminding you of how beautiful you were. He never pushed, never made you uncomfortable, always the perfect gentleman. It was almost too good to be true.

Today has been nothing short of perfect. The two of you curled up together on the couch, legs tangled, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s presence. The rain drummed steadily against the massive windows of Seunghyun’s apartment, casting soft, gray light over the room. Takeout containers littered the coffee table and a movie played in the background, its dialogue little more than a hum beneath the rhythm of the rain.

A particularly spicy scene flickered across the screen, and you shifted slightly, your mind drifting to thoughts that had been plaguing you for weeks. Since being with Seunghyun, something inside you had ignited, a desire unlike anything you had ever felt before. The late-night thoughts, the lingering heat pooling between your thighs—it was all because of him. Pleasuring yourself in the shower, like you had done for years, no longer satisfied you. You craved something more. Something real.

Seunghyun knew you were a virgin, and he respected that, never pushing for more than what you were comfortable with. But you wanted him. Needed him. Weeks ago, you had made up your mind—you were ready. You had been extra flirty, touching him more, giving him subtle hints, but he never took the bait. At first, you thought maybe he didn’t notice. Now, you were convinced he was holding back on purpose.

Frustration simmered beneath your skin, and you decided enough was enough.

Slowly, you shifted, turning to straddle his lap. His dark eyes flickered with surprise, but he didn’t move, watching you carefully. You cupped his face, pulling him into a deep, lingering kiss. He responded instantly, his hands finding your hips, his lips moving in sync with yours. When his tongue slid against yours, you let out a soft moan, pressing down against his thigh, seeking friction where you needed it most.

His grip on you tightened. “What are you doing, baby?” he murmured between kisses, his voice low, strained.

“I want you…” you whispered, trailing your lips down the column of his throat. You felt him tense beneath you, his breathing growing uneven, and when you shifted again, his arousal pressed against you, hot and hard even through his sweats. A satisfied smile tugged at your lips before you crashed your mouth back onto his.

Seunghyun groaned against your lips before suddenly pulling back, his hands gripping your waist to still your movements. “Mmm, fuck… baby, stop…”

You frowned, your brows knitting together in confusion. “Why?”

He let out a breathy chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Because, you’re really turning me on right now.”

“That’s the point,” you countered, tilting your head slightly, eyes locked onto his.

His expression softened, but there was something else there, something deeper—conflict. “Baby…”

“I’m ready, Se,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I want it to be you.”

He leaned back into the couch, his hands still resting on your hips. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to find any hesitation, any doubt. But there was none. All he saw was you—flushed, eager, beautiful. And in that moment, every unholy thought he had been suppressing came rushing to the surface.

He exhaled deeply, his grip tightening just slightly. “You don’t know how hard it is for me to hold back with you.”

“Then don’t.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The rain outside continued to fall, the movie long forgotten in the background. It was just you and him, the heat between you threatening to consume everything in its path.

And then, finally, he pulled you down, crashing his lips to yours, surrendering to the inevitable.

You smiled, pressing your body flush against his, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his clothes. His lips moved against yours with an intoxicating rhythm, tongues tangling in a slow, deliberate dance. Your hands, desperate and trembling with need, flew to his waistband, fingers fumbling with the fabric in an attempt to rid him of it.

"Settle, baby," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "Let me take care of you first, yeah? Gotta get you ready…" He punctuated his words with a sharp nip at your neck, making you shudder beneath him.

"Okay…" you panted, breathless, your body already pulsing with anticipation.

His hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, his fingers tracing over the damp heat between your thighs. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as his middle finger ran teasingly through your slick folds, barely pressing against you. Your body trembled at the sensation.

"You tell me if you want me to stop, okay? At any point," he whispered, his lips brushing against your jaw, his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"O-okay…" you stammered, barely able to form words. "Keep going, please."

Your plea was all he needed. His finger moved slowly, collecting your arousal before pressing inside your aching core. A sweet moan spilled from your lips, your head tilting back as pleasure consumed you.

"Shit… you're so fucking wet," he groaned, his voice dripping with restraint as he fought to control himself.

His finger pumped in and out at a torturously slow pace, the cool metal of his ring adding a delicious contrast to the heat pooling between your thighs. His free hand trailed up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lips before pressing inside.

"Suck, baby," he instructed, his gaze locked onto you, dark and hooded with desire.

You obeyed without hesitation, wrapping your lips around his thumb and swirling your tongue over the pad. His eyes darkened further, a low growl vibrating in his chest as he watched you with a mix of hunger and adoration.

As his fingers worked you open, your hips instinctively moved to match his rhythm, rolling against his touch in slow, desperate motions.

"I'm gonna add another finger, stretch you out a bit, okay?" he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"Mhmm," you moaned, nodding eagerly.

He slipped another finger inside, curling them slightly, and you gasped, gripping his shoulders as your walls clenched around him. The initial discomfort melted into pleasure, and soon, you were rocking against his hand, chasing the overwhelming heat building deep within you.

"This okay?" he asked, his gaze searching your face, his voice softer now, filled with concern despite the raw desire consuming him.

You nodded, relaxing against him. "Feels so good…" you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder.

He angled his fingers just right, pressing against that perfect spot, and your body jerked in response. A whimper escaped your lips, sending a rush of satisfaction through him. His thumb found your swollen clit, circling it in slow, tantalizing strokes, building you up higher, faster.

The tension coiled in your stomach, your breaths growing shorter, panting his name like a prayer.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he coaxed, his lips tracing the curve of your jaw. "Cum for me like a good girl…"

His words were your undoing. The knot in your core unraveled, pleasure washing over you in waves as your body trembled on top of him. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your nails digging into his shoulders as you let go with a cry of bliss.

"Fuck!" you gasped, your body pulsing against him, shuddering as he helped you ride out your high.

"That's my girl…" he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction, watching you with dark, lust-blown eyes.

As your body relaxed against him, he slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips. His tongue darted out, tasting you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"That was amazing…" you panted, a lazy, sated smile tugging at your lips. "I want more."

Seunghyun exhaled a shaky breath, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "You sure?"

You nodded eagerly. "Please. I want to have sex with you."

A deep, guttural groan rumbled from his chest as his hands found your hips, gripping them firmly. "Fuuckkk…" he exhaled, his head dropping to your shoulder for a moment before lifting to meet your gaze. His hands slid down to palm your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh.

Then, with effortless strength, he lifted you into his arms. You gasped, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"Where are we going?" you asked, your voice soft, innocent despite the fire still burning between your thighs.

He smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before whispering, "Your first time is not going to happen on the couch. I’m going to make love to you properly. In our bed."

Your heart swelled at the possessiveness in his tone, at the way he said "our bed" like it had always been yours, like you belonged there—with him.

Smiling, you tightened your hold around him, letting him carry you away, excitement building at your core once again.

Seunghyun’s lips molded to yours, slow and deep, before he gently pushed you back onto the bed. A surprised giggle bubbled from your lips as you bounced against the soft mattress, your breath catching when you looked up at him. The way he stood there, dark eyes locked onto yours, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths—it sent heat rushing through your veins.

Then, with a deliberate slowness, he peeled his shirt over his head.

Your lips parted slightly as you took him in, the golden glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows over the defined ridges of his body. He was tan, toned, every inch of him sculpted like a masterpiece. You’d seen him like this before, but something about this moment felt entirely different—maybe because you knew you were about to experience all of him. No barriers, no teasing restraint. Just raw, unfiltered desire.

A shiver ran down your spine as he leaned down, hovering over you, his warmth seeping into your skin. His hand cupped your cheek, fingers tracing along your jawline with an almost reverent touch before he guided your lips back to his. His kiss was slow, intoxicating, his tongue gliding against yours in a way that made your head spin.

You moaned softly into his mouth, your body arching instinctively toward him. Sure, you’d kissed Seunghyun plenty of times before. But not like this. Not with this kind of hunger—like he was trying to memorize the taste of you, like he needed you to breathe.

His hand slipped beneath your shirt, fingertips featherlight as they traced over your stomach, your ribs, before settling on your breast. A sharp gasp left your lips as he massaged the soft flesh, his thumb grazing over your nipple before rolling it between his fingers. The sensation made your breath hitch, your thighs pressing together in anticipation.

“That feel good, baby?” His voice was husky, dripping with desire, his lips brushing against your neck, tracing a path down to your shoulder.

“Mhmm…” you whimpered, barely able to form words. “S’good…”

Seunghyun sat up slightly, his fingers curling around the hem of your shirt—well, his shirt, the one you’d been lounging in all day. He tugged it up and over your head, tossing it to the side. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you beneath him, bare and vulnerable, but entirely unafraid.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” he murmured, his fingers ghosting over your skin as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

Warmth bloomed in your chest at his words. You believed him when he told you that. With him, you never had to second-guess, never had to doubt.

Still, you couldn’t help but tease him, arching your back slightly as you looked up at him through your lashes. “I wanna be sexy,” you murmured, lips curling into a playful smirk.

Seunghyun groaned, dropping his forehead against yours. “God, you are so. fucking. sexy.” His voice was strained, thick with want, before he crashed his lips onto yours again—this time, rougher, more desperate. His kiss left you breathless, lips swollen, body aching for more.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You think I didn’t notice how flirty you’ve been the past few weeks?” His hand trailed down your stomach, slow and teasing, before slipping under the waistband of your sweatpants. “Wearing those tiny shorts around the house… giving me those innocent little looks with those big, pretty eyes…” His fingers dipped lower, grazing over the growing heat between your thighs. “Pressing your tits together just to see me react.”

You gasped as he slid a single finger into you, your body jolting at the sensation.

“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy,” he growled, watching your reaction intently, his free hand gripping your thigh to keep you still.

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah?” you whispered, voice barely audible.

His smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with something dark and knowing. “Yeah,” he murmured, slipping his finger out only to circle your entrance, teasing, taunting.

You let out a needy whimper, your body straining toward him. “So, what are you gonna do about it?” 

He sat back, hooking his fingers into your sweatpants and dragging them down your legs with a slow, torturous precision. He tossed them to the side without a care, his gaze locked onto you, devouring you whole. And then, with a wicked grin, he settled between your thighs. “Guess you’re about to find out.”

You barely processed his words before his tongue found your clit, swirling over your sensitive bud with a slow, devastating precision. A shuddering gasp left your lips as pleasure shot through you like a live wire, your fingers clawing at the sheets, searching for something—anything—to anchor yourself.

“Oh, fuck! Seunghyun!” Your voice was wrecked, desperate, a plea wrapped in pleasure.

Your hands found his hair, threading your fingers through it, tugging just enough to feel him groan against you. The vibration sent another sharp jolt of pleasure straight to your core. He devoured you like a man starved, every stroke of his tongue possessive, every flick of his lips insatiable.

“God, you taste so fucking good…” he murmured, voice thick with lust before diving back in, his tongue lapping at you like he couldn't get enough.

Your thighs trembled, the telltale knot in your stomach coiling tighter and tighter, seconds away from snapping. It was overwhelming, his mouth, his hands gripping your hips like he owned you, the heat pooling in your lower belly—

“Oh, God, I’m close—Seunghyun, stop!”

The words left you in a breathless rush, and instantly, he pulled away, his head snapping up in alarm. His lips were slick with you, his eyes wide with concern.

“What? I’m sorry!” His reaction was immediate, panicked, as if he’d done something wrong.

A breathless giggle bubbled from your lips as you reached for him, your fingers tilting his chin up. “No, it’s okay,” you reassured him, still panting. “I just want to cum on your dick.”

His pupils darkened, his lips parting slightly at your words. A slow, sinful smile spread across his face as he crawled up your body, his hands trailing reverently over your curves, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

“Are you sure you want this?” His voice was softer now, hesitant. His biggest fear wasn’t the moment—it was making you feel anything less than cherished.

Your hands framed his face, your thumb stroking over his cheek. “I do, Se. I love you. And I trust you.”

Something shifted in his gaze, something deeper, something sacred. His entire body seemed to melt at your confession, and he captured your lips in a kiss so slow and tender it stole the breath from your lungs.

“I love you, too.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was raw, unfiltered, filled with emotion.

He sat back just enough to rid himself of his sweatpants and boxers, his gaze never leaving yours. Your heart raced in anticipation as he settled between your thighs, his tip teasing your entrance, running through your slick folds.

Your breath hitched, every nerve ending in your body alive with anticipation. This was it—a moment you had dreamed about, wondered about, and now, it was happening.

He pressed into you slowly, his thick length stretching you inch by inch. The pleasure was laced with a sharp sting, your body adjusting to the new intrusion. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you gasped.

“Shit…” you breathed, trying to relax around him.

His brows furrowed immediately. “Want me to stop?” His voice was urgent, worried.

You shook your head. “No, no. Keep going. Just…slow…”

He nodded, placing a grounding hand on your hip as he continued to push in, giving you time to adjust. His breath came out in a shudder when he bottomed out, his forehead pressing against yours.

“Fuck, you’re so tight…” he groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fought to stay still.

You let out a shaky chuckle, the initial discomfort giving way to something warmer, something deeper.

“Feel okay?” he asked, his lips brushing over your jaw, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“Yeah…” you whispered, your body finally accommodating him. “Just…God, you’re big…”

A low, amused laugh rumbled from his chest, and he kissed you softly. “Just try to relax, okay? We can stay just like this if you need to.”

You took a slow breath, allowing your body to mold around him, to welcome him. His lips trailed featherlight kisses across your face, his patience endless.

Then, finally—

“Okay,” you breathed, meeting his gaze. “You can move.”

He searched your face for any uncertainty, but when he found none, he gave you a slow, deep kiss and pulled out just enough before thrusting back in. The motion sent a delicious spark through you, the pleasure beginning to eclipse the ache.

His movements were deliberate, slow and steady, giving you time to adjust, to feel every inch of him. And then, the pain was gone—replaced by something so intoxicating it had you gasping his name.

“You feel so good…” he murmured, his breath hot against your neck as his pace increased just slightly.

“Go faster, please,” you begged, your voice breathless, needy.

He groaned at your words and obeyed, his hips moving with more urgency, more purpose, hitting that perfect spot inside of you. A strangled moan escaped your lips, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.

“Oh my God…” you panted, pleasure coursing through you in waves.

“Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last long…” Seunghyun admitted, his voice strained, his control slipping.

“Me either,” you whined, eyes shut tight, the build-up sending you dangerously close to the edge. “I’m on the pill.”

His movements faltered for half a second, his eyes flicking to yours in shock. “What?”

A breathless smirk played on your lips. “Told you I was ready.”

Something snapped in him at that. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and he grabbed your leg, pushing it back just enough to hit even deeper.

“I fucking love you, Y/N,” he groaned before pounding into you with newfound intensity, his thrusts deep, desperate, perfect.

The coil in your stomach twisted tighter and tighter, your moans turning into cries of ecstasy as it finally snapped.

“Oh, Seunghyun!” You shattered around him, clinging to him as your body trembled through the waves of pleasure.

His thrusts became erratic, his breath ragged as he chased his own release. A strangled moan left his lips as he spilled into you, his entire body tensing before collapsing onto you, spent and breathless.

The world felt hazy, your bodies tangled together, the only sound in the room was your heavy breathing and the faint pounding of your heart.

Slowly, he pulled out, rolling onto his side and immediately pulling you into his arms. His lips pressed to your temple, warm and reverent.

“Was that okay?” he murmured against your skin. “Did I hurt you?”

You smiled sleepily, tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “That was fucking amazing, Seunghyun. Thank you.”

He exhaled, as if relieved, and wrapped you tighter in his arms, pressing kiss after kiss to your forehead.

“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s take a shower, and then I’ll make you dinner, okay?”

“Mmm, can’t move,” you teased, your limbs still boneless from pleasure.

“Then I’ll just have to carry you,” he chuckled, standing up and scooping you into his arms effortlessly.

You giggled, curling into his warmth.

That night, as he cleaned you up, cooked for you, and held you close, Seunghyun couldn’t stop thinking about how much he loved you. And as you finally fell asleep in his lap, his heart full, he realized something—

One day, he was going to marry you.

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[jedisupernova]

married life with kwon jiyong

notes minors dni contains fem aged up reader (same age as jiyong), reader has a normal job, always written with plus size reader in mind as i am myself but anyone can read, slice of life, tooth rotting fluff, gentle love, suggestiveness, playful bickering and banter, mentions of drinking and smoking, smut (in the morning, oral f and m receiving, primarily sub!jiyong though it can switch), some angst (mentions of hardships and arguments, allusions to his hiatus and your struggles of being with a public figure,) overall just him being one of the keys to my heart, and inevitable typos.

requested? no because i can't be normal about anything! and i want this man so bad! this is my first time writing for jiyong; please be kind. this one is long. i really liked writing this, i hope you enjoy :)

life outside of your shared apartment is very busy, at times chaotic, and noisy. your husband and you live very different lives, and have done so since you started dating twelve years ago; him being a renowned musician, respected artist and performer, and a highly in demand global celebrity both on stage and at fashion week. you, on the other hand, worked as an executive assistant at a firm in the city for almost as long as you've been with jiyong. it came with its own stresses and discrepancies, as any job does. but when you two are home, all that matters are your wedding bands, feeding the cats, and snuggling so close on the couch that your body temperatures become one.

the love you share is at an atomic level. it doesn't manifest in finishing each other's sentences, per se, but more so jiyong knows whether you want coffee or tea that morning simply from how deep your frown is when waddling out of the bathroom. you can tell when a cold is creeping up on him simply from the sound his nostrils make upon an inhale, leaving him a steaming mug of ginger tea on his bedside table for him to drink before sleeping. if your hands are busy, he'll clip your earrings on for you. jiyong cleans your reading glasses every morning without fail, no matter how late either of you are—in the middle of his morning smoke, whilst you're in the shower, or when the coffee pot is brewing. or when you're running really late, hastily collecting your keys and trying to finish your toast, he squats down, shoe in one hand and your ankle in the other, saying "put your foot in," sliding your shoes on for you. you give him your hand without thinking when his fingers become restless. you pull him into your arms when he's being more quiet than usual. his hand will reach over to your cheek, thumb gently rubbing in a sheer streak of sunscreen that wasn't blended all the way before planting a kiss on the same spot. when he calls you, depending on the time of day, it's either to get lunch together or an attempt to get you to call off work early ("i'll tell my boss the same excuse as you if you do it too, honey." "jiyongie, cut it out. i'm late for a meeting. you're your own boss, anyway." "i married a smart one, hm?"), or how heavy his steps were when walking gave hint to how tired he was that day. you were the other's second nature—a soul meshed; equation solved.

jiyong initially fell for how unapologetic you are. who would've thought on your third date with the utmost famous kpop idol, that you'd be rapping his part in 'we belong together' to him at a random noraebang in gangnam at one in the morning? you remember thinking you couldn't believe you made it this far with him, so you just decided to do whatever—to see what happens, but also alleviate nerves, primarily. albeit you mumbled through a third of it and your hiccups from the soju you shared echoed loudly into the microphone—but you charmed the fuck out of him. he hadn't laughed that hard in a long while, and his flustered state followed him all the way home and into calling you the next day. it trickled into your relationship as it became more serious and into marriage: you were never afraid to tell him an accessory didn't go with an outfit (which has caused some petty arguments), not act like you liked a track when you didn't, or let him think he landed a joke well on a variety show (he always did, though. you just teased him so you could squish his cheeks from how deeply he pouted.) your honesty was refreshing, considering how easy it was to be surrounded by yes-men in the industry he's in.

jiyong showed his love in front of his staff, too. it wasn't only apparent in your holding of his hand in your lap during car rides, or his hand on your lower back as he showed you around sets for his music videos, but just how he visibly brightened at the sight of his wife. even in the midst of a contentious conversation with his team over creative direction, you sucked him out it just by walking into the room. that smile, the glow on his face—it was damning. better yet, you joined in too, unable to ignore the frustrated furrow of his eyebrows. some staffers couldn't help but gossip on their lunch breaks sometimes, saying in those meetings it felt like they were sat with the co-presidents of a company, or giggle over how they overheard you planting rather loud kisses on your husband's face, talking sweetly when you thought you two were alone and out of earshot ("you're my baby—my sweetheart." you kissed his cheek, soon landing on his lips with his makeshift pout from your holding of his face. "i am." he hummed, puckering his lips. "i'm your big baby."—"that's the same man who was growling into the mic the first day i met him?" said one assistant to another over lunch. "no, it makes sense," she countered with the shake of her head after taking a sip of her drink. "he's also the same guy who wrote 'good boy.'"

he does not go to sleep without you. jiyong makes due when he's overseas, albeit begrudgingly and does not let you hang up the facetime call when you both fall asleep. when you're both home, he gets up off the couch and takes your hand, tugging it. "come to bed. it's almost eleven." he said, pulling your arm. "i'm in the middle of my show, my love." you respond, pulling him back towards you. "i'll give you my ipad. now, c'mon." "fine, fine." you give in, pressing the power button on the remote before getting up. his free hand held your jaw, squishing your cheeks together and pouting your lips, placing a playful kiss. "thank you, my baby." he muttered. "yeah, yeah," you said before his lips returned to yours. "it better be charged." and it was, perched in your lap, finishing your episode with his airpods, too, jiyong snoring quietly beside you, having fallen asleep with his hand atop yours over the duvet.

when he comes home after extra exhausting days at work—especially if it was comeback prep, a studio session, a music video or performance filming day that began early that morning—he's very mumbly. upper half of his face hidden under a thick beanie, placing a lazy peck on your cheek as a greeting, shuffling to the shower, and plopping down almost cartoonishly at the dining table with a huff. you bring him a bowl of steaming leftovers from your cooking like clockwork. before you turn around to go get white wine for the both of you, jiyong takes your hand in his, pressing kisses onto your soft skin; a wordless thank you. you brush back his hair with your fingers, kissing his forehead. "i love you too." you say. "eat well, hm?"

you retrieve the previously opened bottle of white wine from one of the kitchen cabinets, carrying two glasses in your other hand. you pour the same amount for him and yourself, cheersing wordlessly before taking a drink. it was then that you saw jiyong still had a colored lens on—his left eye his natural brown, the right an unnatural pale grey, looking at you like an inverted mangekyo sharingan since the pupils weren't completely aligned—and thought to yourself oh! ... must've been a really long day, then.

he plans birthday and anniversary gifts months in advance. early in your relationship, he gifted very often, until he had no choice but to dial it down at your request. you lived in a small studio apartment until you moved in with him a year before he proposed, and there was only so much room for gifts varying from weekly flower bouquets (your personal favorite, even if it meant your kitchen counter and coffee table were virtually unusable with vases filled with daises, roses, and carnations), cartier bracelets ("do i look like someone who has somewhere to wear this to?" "yes, you do. on our trip to jeju next weekend and every single date after that."), or a first edition print of a book you love ("you spend too much money on me." "i would open my own bank just to take care of you.") even so, jiyong still has his ways—a new perfume on your vanity on the anniversary of his asking to be your boyfriend; a weekend getaway for your birthday; restocking your skincare whenever he walks in on you screwing the cap off your moisturizer to get the last bits of it; a mini tin of chocolate truffles paired with a loving handwritten note he always leaves on your bedside table before he travels overseas, even if you see him off to the airport.

wedding anniversaries are mainly spent at home. you've traveled elsewhere for the occasion before, but as you got older, cooking a warm meal together, opening a bottle of champagne, cutting expensive tiramisu cake, and sharing kisses on the couch sufficed more than enough. some anniversaries are tipsier than others, featuring either a comedically inebriated attempt of recreating your wedding dance ("and then i spun you around—" "no, you dipped me, jiyong." "hey! you don't think i know what happened at my own wedding?" "i was there, too! and you dipped me!") whilst the cats meow in protest of the noise, or going down a youtube rabbit hole and him begging you not to put on the bigbang secret garden parody in the recommended ("but it's my favorite thing you've ever done!" "stop lying, i know you like zutter the most!"), or the tradition of him playing 'HoneyBaeGirl,' a short song he wrote—and many since then��about you after becoming official all those years ago ("'girl, you make my pen fly off my paper, but not as fast as the stork that'll carry our baby' ... you really liked me that much?" "you say this every year, and i always tell you that i started looking at rings before our six months.")

however, without fail, every year jiyong is the last to fall asleep on the night of your anniversary. your upper half atop his, legs entangled underneath the fluffy duvet, his arms wrapped around your back, hands holding your head to his chest; two tall glasses once filled with water on his nightside table, downed before bed in an effort to thwart a possible hangover the next day. it's the feeling of his fingers combing your hair back that lulls you to sleep, along with the intermittent flutter of kisses to your forehead, and the vibrations of his chuckles against your ear when you mumbled something tiredly. "i love you so much, honey. thank you for another year." he spoke quietly. "i love you too," you muttered, slumber heavy in your senses. "let's do a millennia." he grinned. "let's do it."

when you fall asleep, his palm rests along your jaw, thumb tracing the supple skin of your cheekbone back and forth. his eyes would watch the rise and fall of your chest against his, or peer down at your face. so blissfully asleep, so easily beautiful. no matter how late at night, or how much liquor he drank, as if on cue, his mind shuffled through memories in a scattered sequence—the first time you spoke on the phone so long that the early morning sun caught him off guard; the coordinated efforts to see you in private; when your relationship leaked anyway during your two year anniversary trip (whilst you were still actively on it); when you were defiant upon his suggesting to break up to protect you ("why should i compromise for people who live in a false reality?"); hundreds of hours spent in the studio when dates felt impossible with his schedule, to you ultimately getting fed up and just meeting him where he was, leading to endless recordings he's kept on his laptop of you haphazardly attempting to rap to a beat he's made or sampling you in songs that stay between the two of you; his proposal, and both of yours blubbering tears ("c-can i—will you—" "—y-yes! oh my god, yes!" "i have to finish the question—oh my god, i can't breath through my own tears—c'mere, i'll wipe yours."); or one night on your four year wedding anniversary trip when you two were at polar opposite ends of the hotel lobby after a particularly rowdy night at the club together following a romantic dinner, both equally drunk if not you rivaling him—jiyong sat in a cushioned chair, on the phone with either an assistant, producer, or his financial advisor. you didn't know, nor the third rum and coke looming in your system hadn't made you care all that much. you were too busy trying to keep your eyes open to not out your deep inebriation to the poor concierge working the overnight shift whilst jiyong spoke quietly albeit with a finger in his other ear as if he was still in the club.

it was his recollection of this next part that always made jiyong grin to himself, the vibrations of his chuckle against your ear resulting in your satisfied yet meek hum amidst your slumber: "could you—would you be able to bring more towels to suite 403?" you asked politely, attempting irrationally to thwart the continued slurring of your words by straightening your posture. "it should be under the name . . . " your eyes went wide. "oh my goodness, what's my name?" you looked around worriedly, catching your shaky balance by gripping the counter, unable to believe that you were so far gone that your surname temporarily slipped from your consciousness. the concierge tried to get your attention saying she knew who you were as she was the person who checked you in a few days ago, but your fingers tapped your lips anxiously, seeing jiyong get up from his seat and walk over. "ji . .. jiyong—" you tried to call him over, but it felt like your voice couldn't go above a certain point. you turned back to the concierge, blurting the first thing that came to mind: "dragon. try dragon." you pointed to the computer, irrational worry knotted between your eyebrows. then your heart dropped for an entirely different reason: "i just compromised our safety." "what?" jiyong giggled beside you, hand finding your hip. "i leave you alone for two minutes and you're talking like you're in a bond film." you quickly leaned towards his ear, making yourself dizzy in the process. "i just told them you're g-dragon." you whispered frantically. he couldn't hold in his laughter, finding the ordeal amusing. the look on your face wasn't any better. he was pocketing this memory forever."that's fine, my love. they know—" "—i told them i'm mrs. dragon!" you whispered. "well, for one: you are." he shrugged his shoulders, hiccuping in the middle of his colorful laughter. "and two: its fine," jiyong assured, taking your hand. its good that we're leaving tomorrow, though. his inner monologue percolated at the back of his head. "let's head to our room. we're gonna feel this in the morning."

speaking of mornings: they're sacred in your household. historically, jiyong's the first to wake. but he doesn't get up until a while later, often silently coexisting with your sleeping form. call it two lost souls finding each other in this life, mere coincidence, or whatever it may be, but you wake up no more than a half hour after him—jiyong's ears perking up at the sound of your all-too-familiar, prolonged hmph. he scoots over, duvet rustling as his body molds against yours, lips finding that spot on your temple. you respond with the gradual wrapping of your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer, warmth doubling. "good morning." he mumbled lowly, satisfied with your barely passing verbal response of another hmph. after a while, you nudge him off, feeling sweat start to build. "m'boiling." "you're s'mean." jiyong protested weakly, but obliged, moving back lazily to his side of the bed. like clockwork, jiyong felt a tug at the collar of his shirt, or hand on his shoulder if he slept without one some moments later, beckoning him when you were more awake, voice coherent. "come back here." "i thought i almost killed you." "stop being dramatic. its barely seven in the morning." "you made me this way." "fine. then i'll take the car myself to work." it took a moment, but jiyong turned back to you, huffing with an air of faux stubbornness upon your lips finding his cheek. "you know i always take to you to work." jiyong muttered into your neck. "its non-negotiable." you adjusted your position, relieving your back and allowing him to lay more comfortably between your legs, warmth of your thighs snuggling against his waist. "anything's on the table if you act stupid enough." "i don't have the brainpower for a witty comeback." "be quiet and let me hold you, then."

you were devastatingly beautiful in the mornings. one peek into your brain and jiyong knew you would think your dry lips, oily t-zone, shorts that rode up your ass comedically and uncomfortably, and sleep lines running across your cheek and arm after a restful night of sleep wasn't exactly the sight—but you were wrong; you were a sight to behold. jiyong's held that sense of awe from the first time you fell asleep beside him on one of your first movie nights as twenty-something-year-olds—never forgetting what it felt like to internalize the sound of your softened breaths, or your head dropping to his shoulder. to have your trust whilst you were in such a vulnerable state tugged at his tear ducts, despite his failed argument of "its because we were watching 'little miss sunshine' that i got so worked up," only to be pulled into your arms upon your catching sight of his increasingly glossy eyes, adorning his face with kisses.

it was the same sensation today as he opened his eyes, thumb tracing the wrinkles of your bottom lip before settling in the temporary divot of your cheek casted by your pillow; waist welcoming the subtle grip of those thick thighs that bestow upon him both heavenly pleasures and a sense of home; fingers fluttering past your rolls for his palm to grip the side of your right thigh, feeling the plushness of your skin nurtured by moisturizer and body oil applied the night before, humming in content at the soft prickle of body hair against his palm; hand sneaking past the bottom hem of your shorts, thumb kneading the powdery plushness of your ass, earning him a shaky breath as his lips peppered kisses onto your neck. jiyong slowly trailed down your chest, propping himself up with his free elbow, pulling your cami down enough to expose your right breast. he relished in your scent, basking in the lingering luxurious vanilla as his lips encircled your areola before taking it entirely in his mouth. he suckled with intent, lapping your hardening peak with his eyes closed. if he didn't think about it, he'd lull himself to sleep. it's happened before.

you brought his free hand to your lips, pressing kisses onto his fingertips until you cut yourself off with a small moan, looking down at your husband completely lost in you. the sun had barely began to rise, but here you two were, clearing either of your senses of slumber with your concurrent libidos—like you weren't a day past twenty-four; going at it in a company car before he walked into the practice room with an unmatched aura and graphic tee on inside out, hair tousled. "make it quick," you whispered, bottom lip caught between your teeth when his hand kneaded your left breast. "have to get up in fifteen minutes." "got it." he murmured. jiyong worked quickly, shoving his pants below his knees whilst you pull your shorts down enough to let him in with ease. it was a picturesque way to start your day: holding onto your husband's shoulders as he worked his hips into yours, listening to his quick pants since he's historically ignored the fact that he's more sensitive in the mornings as to not keep himself from making love to the pussy god herself carved for and bestowed upon him all those years ago—every squeeze a blessing; squirm fruitful bounty; utterance of your name a prayer.

jiyong sounded so frail in your ear, begging for mercy from something he started. "s-shit—f-fuck—slow d-down—" he said to no one but himself, voice falling into a mewl, breathing heavily. "how do you—how do you still feel so g-good after all this time? huh?" he's felt you unabashedly raw for years, but some part of him will always be left in awe—where does he begin? jiyong already sees the pearly gates when the skeleton of his name is whispered meekly through your teeth, let alone how it seems you mutually long for one another in your respective rem cycles, considering you slip so swiftly into one another—literally and metaphorically—mere minutes after you've woken up. its not that odd or rather dubious cliché of "feeling young again" or whatever the fuck—its the familiarity of someone that keeps you sane and drives you crazy all the same. and how your muscle memory serves you right even in a state of slight deliriousness, wrapping your legs as best you can around his waist as his heavy balls plop against the bottom of your ass . . . it was beyond jiyong how he wasn't a father of five yet.

"mmf! fuck! t-taking it s-so well—so e-early in the m-morning, too." "w-wouldn't want it any other—o-oh my god, just like that! just like that!" you grabbed at the back of his shoulders, chest pushing into his, your back arching. "harder, jiyongie. h-harder." the look on your face was his motivation to keep going despite his increasingly blurry vision and mounting pressure on his knees from being in the same position. there it was—the face he strived to make music to encapsulate; etched in his memory so many times, but when he sees it, its like he's never seen it before; if someone showed twenty-year-old him a photo of you and told him you were going to be his wife, he'd need a defibrillator. "f-fuck! h—h-haa!" he whimpered faintly, eyebrows contorted upward, hearing the bed creak as he rammed into you. you were in a state of bliss: hair messy, dried drop of drool in the corner of your mouth, toes curling into the linen, sleepies in the corners of your eyes—stretched out by the love of your life at 7:15 in the morning. you weren't particularly religious, but perhaps this is what being god's favorite feels like.

he's a pussy eater to his core. you spent months stuffing your face into your pillow so your roommates wouldn't overhear at three in the morning; jiyong put a chair to the door when you came by promptly before he was due to work with the company producers that day, making way for you two to become masters at hiding what went down less than an hour before on the same couch his boss was now sitting on; your honeymoon reeked of it—and he's a devout enjoyer to this day. the night you sat on his face for the first time, he booked a studio afterwards whilst you slept peacefully next to him on your full size bed—saying some of the raunchiest shit he's ever thought of into that microphone when no one was around. only to play it for you the next night he was over at your apartment, physically feeling his soul achieve completion when you mounted his face again, disappearing between your thighs; seeing double when you rode his cock like it was your last night alive. it was also a rare night where all of your roommates were out—you didn't take that opportunity lightly. or gently. or timidly, really.

his gaze lingers on you in the kitchen the weekends you have off, stealing glances whilst you tried to make something out of the leftovers from the fridge for lunch; growing sick of ordering in all the time. jiyong's attention had long strayed from whatever was playing on the television, fingers toying with the press-on that was half-on half-off his middle finger, eyes barely diverting from you—relaxed in a cami and shorts, stomach peeking over the top hem, your cellulite and curvature of your body illuminated by the streaks of sunlight pouring in from the balcony window—even when one of the cat's dotingly rubbed against his leg when walking past. he got up from the couch, making his way over. he initially made his presence known with his palm tracing your hips, following the curvature of your ass before his chin settled on your shoulder. it was normal—nothing to be picked up on; a gesture you love so tenderly. in fact, you were the one who turned your head to look at him with a soft grin, leaning in and giving him a sweet kiss. it was the way jiyong reconnected it—slow and with a soft, stuttered hum—that you knew what was up.

"not now." you tutted. as if on cue, your stomach grumbled lowly. "m'hungry." "i am too." jiyong's palm rode up your stomach before nestling on your breast, kneading it slowly—another familiar touch, you just didn't have the patience for it right now. his other hand moved the strap of your cami on your other shoulder, letting it fall down your arm, pressing a kiss onto your skin. "you look s'good. can't help it. wanna taste." he muttered. "here, i'll get on the floor. just stay there." before he made his descent, you turned your head. "you're the one who told me his left knee's been giving him problems these last few days. has that suddenly disappeared?" he pouted. "i wanted to be sexy." you mimicked his pout, jutting your bottom lip. "midday on sunday when i'm trying to make us sandwiches out of more than tuna and leftover kimchi?" you quip. he leaned closer, rivaling your faux pout. "mhm," he closed the gap, kissing your cheek. "should've done it this morning when i had the chance. got too shy." you scoffed. "don't make me laugh," you said. "you're the same person who—what was it, again? the second?" you thought aloud; the memory clear in your head as confirmation. "oh, right. yeah—when you were called into the office the second time dispatch got those photos of us, and you told your boss you'd write a song about our 'tender love' to drive up album sales, since that's what he always talked about." jiyong shrugged his shoulders. "i gave him an in. but i am shy." "you can be. sometimes." "all the time." "sometimes." "all the time."

you adore his facial hair to the point of contemplating hiding his shaving kit. his hiatus, as it riddled him with questions of who he is and where he stands in the world, had its own unexpected pockets of unbridled humanity not tainted by the unforgiving eye of societal pressures. it showed in how jiyong texted you whilst you were at work when it became him being the one waiting for his spouse to come home—photos of the cats, what he made for lunch and planned on either making or ordering for dinner, and that he was going an episode back on the series you two were watching together because he didn't remember how a certain plot point progressed. this was especially prevalent during his military service: Don't worry, I'll remember where we left off

on those days he had his scruff—lining his upper lip and peppering his chin—you were unabashed. sure, in the first year or two when you started dating, it was shy glances and hiding your disappointment when he showed up to your apartment freshly-shaven before a comeback. jiyong may have been young, but he wasn't clueless. it was hard not to put the pieces together whenever it was always "one more kiss" when he left for the night, seeing your eyes flutter to his mouth before leaning in again; your back already arched when he trailed kisses down your inner thighs before eating you out, muffling your own moans behind your palm from how good his scruff felt against your skin. this was certainly the tipping point. you never forgot what his "let me hear you" sounded like—slightly demanding, but all the more knowing. it made you moan louder, unabashedly stuffing his face into your cunt with his tongue's every ministration.

the floodgates had opened with you knowing he knew; fucking him as he tried to fuck you from behind, embattling for power. jiyong tried to keep his composure—it was the hottest thing he's ever fucking seen—keeping his grip on your hips, grunting in the midst of your moans. it was the clapping of skin and watching your globes recoil after hitting his pelvis repeatedly that made him surrender his grip to the headboard to keep his balance. and your breathy fucking "jiyongie—j-jiyongie!" bottom lip caught between your teeth, eyebrows curled upward; elbows and knees set ablaze, stomach rubbing uncomfortably against the duvet, but it felt too good to stop. "f-feel so fucking good!" you cried, eyes rolling back hearing his whimper. "fuck me back. fuck me back—n-need it, baby. need it s'bad." jiyong slowly pulled out, leaving only his tip in, hearing you wince longingly at the loss of him filling you up. the condom was creamy and visibly wet. he moaned when he saw his cock twitch inside of you. "all—all this—hngh! f-fuck!" he gradually pushed back in, feeling your gummy walls welcome him like never before. "a-all this b-because of some facial hair, baby? yeah?" "y-yes!" you gasped, eyes squeezing shut when his hips showed no mercy. jiyong ate his own words when he came over a different night, telling you he was going to shave tomorrow, thinking he would be able to handle whatever came his way with a smug grin. he looked ghostly an hour later—spread eagle on your bed, hands lifeless on either side of your ass, only mustering enough strength to kiss you back to break it with his own pathetic whimper, begging for more.

now its sweet hums of satisfaction feeling his scruff when he gives you a kiss before work, tracing it with your fingers as he lulls himself to sleep, or admiring how beautiful he looks. don't get it twisted—those desires never went away. jiyong leads you to his lips with his tongue the nights he comes home from traveling abroad, kissing you in just the way you like, but also the way he knows you feel his four-day-old scruff against your skin. it earns him the chill of your engagement ring and wedding band on the back of his neck, reconnecting the kiss sensually but with a hint of hunger, tilting your head to deepen it. you broke the kiss to catch your breath, forehead landing on his as the water sloshed around you in the tub, his fingers fucking you underneath the rose-scented suds. "a little gentler, jiyongie." "m'sorry," he mumbled. "its okay—" "—just missed my love so much, is all." "missed you t-too." his lips cast a kiss on your shoulder before settling his forehead there, hearing your more satisfied breath when he altered his pace.

or a few days later, when he was trying so hard to watch the confession between the two leads of a series he's been waiting eighteen episodes to see with you, but just couldn't stop himself from shoving his dick deeper into your mouth. there you were, back of your head facing the television, laying comfortably on your side with your feet curled up on the bed, listening to the dialogue whilst sucking your husband's dick. you did it with bliss—like second nature, only opening your eyes to catch your breath and pump his hard cock coated with a mixture of his slick and your spit. he watched you with deeply furrowed eyebrows and his bottom lip begging for mercy—contrasting wildly with how casually he propped his head up with his elbow on his pillow. "f-fuck—a-agh!" he mewled, eyes squeezing shut as you did what he loved most, and may or may not have percolated at the back of his mind when he gifted you a lady dior bag for your birthday that year—sucking hard on his tip, then slowly letting go. the sound your cheeks made when un-hollowing was diabolical. twenty-five year old jiyong would want to somehow sneak that into a b-side, distorting the sound enough to pass it as part of the beat drop or something—anything; seamless to the listener, sinful to him. the idea still stood all these years later, but perhaps he would stick to just keeping it in the lyrics . . .

"hngh! oh my fucking—" jiyong's hand slipped into your hair without thinking, at your complete helm as he watched you take more than half of him into your mouth, sucking hard, before bobbing up and down normally. his voice was a noticeable octave higher—"like that, like that—k-keep—keep going!" "shut up," you muttered. you readjusted yourself on your elbow, feeling your neck begin to strain, his hand falling lifeless onto the bed. you let go of his dick, wiping the drool from the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, noticing how his cock barely moved from how hard it was. you started pumping him again, hearing him suck a breath through his teeth. "can't hear the tv. turn up the volume." "o-okay, honey—" jiyong gasped when he returned to your mouth. "okay—f-fuck! oh, fuck—okay!" he reached with his non-dominant hand to the nightside table, aimlessly grabbing for the remote, knocking it to the floor in the process. the small crash made you nearly choke on his dick, popping off quickly in attempts to stifle your laughter behind your hand. "s'fine—s'fine. i got it—" he tried to reach down, but to no avail. "get back here," you beckoned, tugging at his shirt. "you've waited long enough."

this goes without saying, but you have everything you could ever need. from the moment he gave you his black card after a year of dating to use on anything you want, spending five minutes after that ensuring you that he was in the right state of mind ("why're you giving this to me? you barely know me." "what? you and i both know i know you enough to trust you.") to calling you that same week to tell you its okay to use it after seeing only two charges for coffee a few days apart ("i want to take care of you. you're the only one for me, you know that?" "you're crazy." "well, for you." "i set myself up for that one, didn't i?") to feeling utmost satisfaction seeing charges for household maintenance or paying for a movie night with your friends ("it felt rebellious to spend twenty dollars per ticket for five people with someone else's money." "i think you're the funniest person i know.")

you weren't exactly a public figure—jiyong made sure of that as much as he possibly could, as it was your wish—but that didn't mean you were completely or utterly unrecognizable. photos of existed out there of the two of you, either floated around by dispatch, or when your thank-you-for-attending cards containing your official wedding portrait leaked to the press—both with years in-between them. you went to concerts when you felt comfortable enough or could. he never pressured you to do something you didn't want to, but if he really wanted you to come (which was more often than not, if not all the time,) he'd find his ways: "there's going to be a fun rendition of crooked, and my hair will be styled the way you like." "jiyong, i already took my pto. i'm coming." "i love you so much."

in the years of his hiatus, there were several months that went by where everything felt fine, so you took public transit. it wasn't much or often, per se, only when jiyong felt too under the weather to drive you ("head down to the lot. i'll get the keys, baby." "you look ghostly. i'll leave ginger tea brewing on the stove before i leave."), wasn't home, or when he woke up feeling a little off, opting to stay in bed for a little while longer after giving you a tender kiss goodbye. if you looked out the window long enough during that fifteen minute commute, you suddenly felt like the twenty-one year old you once were that wasn't able to be on time for anything, let alone for classes. there were some days you would see the knowing glances from other passengers, or double takes a fool wouldn't notice. to your fortune, they either didn't say anything, or you sped to the escalator before they could.

one evening after work, however, you weren't headed home but out to dinner with a friend. several stops before your usual terminal, cutting down the usual fifteen minute ride to four—remember that. you rushed into the crowded train car before the doors closed, holding onto a nearby pole a small group of passengers around you gripped, fixing your hair that was messily tousled by the wind and securing your purse over your shoulder. in the midst of that, you caught sight of a prototype peaceminusone daisy pin, having forgotten you clipped it onto your blazer weeks ago after jiyong showed you the new collaboration he was working on. it was a moment that lasted mere seconds, the pin covered up by your purse strap after adjusting your posture, but it was enough for someone to see and make the connection after recognizing you. you hadn't realized someone was tailing you until you were outside of the restaurant. jiyong didn't let you go on public transit again for over a year, hiring an on-call chauffeur that same week.

private as you were, and as much the universe tested the both of you—you and jiyong had ways of finding humor amidst the turmoil. he's culturally ordained the king of kpop, yes, but also is equally deserving of the title of being-subtle-but-not-silent—exhibit a being the year when he showed up to paris fashion week with a strategically placed dark maroon-hued kiss mark in the divot of his collarbone, purposefully poking out of the collar of the chanel piece he was wearing. you did it in a rush in the bathroom of his hotel suite as he was running late; the idea coming to the both of you when you put the finishing touches on his outfit—a long-standing tradition usually administered through dusting something off his clothing, adjusting an accessory, or in this case, applying one. netizens ate each other alive—some saying it was what it clearly was, despite the angle of the photos and his clothing hiding a lot but not all, and others convincing themselves it was a birthmark not seen before that day, or a new tattoo. exhibit b being when you were spotted on a "rare public outing" (dispatch's words, not yours; you're no stranger to grocery runs) wearing a very obviously bootlegged g-dragon shirt—his face pixelated and off-center in the front, name separated by several spaces as opposed to a hyphen in the back; a gag gift from a friend a few christmases ago. he thought it was hilarious, sending you the photos himself: You look hot. The guy on your shirt not so much :)

it was a lovely surprise to see you in the crowd when bigbang returned to the stage at mama, stood in a closed-off section of the seating with members of his staff. the lip readers of the internet metaphorically rode off into the sunset after revealing to the world that you, indeed, said gleefully to his manager that you've known for years: "he looks so fucking good, oh my god!" and "i'm glad he went with that necklace!" whilst pointing at the stage—all before dancing and shouting the words back to him like it was your last night alive, of course. another staff member took a video and sent it to the group chat for him to watch in bed whilst you did your skincare in the en suite, tucked into his side, burying his face into his pillow as his face grew warmer.

to this day, he becomes so unexpectedly shy. that same night, for example, you had to use both hands to tug his shoulder to get him to look at you. even then, he still hid his face in his pillow, not having the gall to look at you or wipe that stupid smile off his face. your kisses to his warming cheek didn't help him, let alone your usual line: "you've made me see stars. now you don't want to see me?" you said by his ear, hand rubbing up his back tenderly, giggling upon hearing his muffled groan. "don't say that," he elongated the last syllable, arm slinging over your waist, fingers grazing the top of your ass. "you know i can't bear it." "mhm," you hummed, voice sounding akin to honey. "at least give me a goodnight kiss. i worked so hard cheering for you tonight, you know?" you smiled, hand now coming up to brush his hair back, ushering him to you. jiyong lifted his head, bringing his lips to yours. your hand held his cheek, kissing him back, lips separating slowly. "i love you." you whispered. "i love you more."

or when you two make lunch together, him washing and cutting the vegetables whilst you looked for the pan needed to sauté for the quick dish you decided to make that afternoon. you placed the pan on the stove, turning the correlating knob to ignite the fire underneath, drizzling it with olive oil whilst it began to heat up; an anecdote from work commentating everything. "thought i heard something about lay-offs. turns out, it was just that asshole co-worker that got laid over the weekend." jiyong's eyebrows raised, amused. "you heard that on your lunch break?" you gave him a look that deepened his upside down grin, shaking your head. "the shit i hear, my love," you tutted. "i'm surprised i'm not stuck in a state of perpetual grievance." he let out a laugh, his eyes kissing at the end. "you can be so funny, you know?" "can be?" you quipped, unable to hide your grin. "i thought it was the funniest person you knew, hm?" you tugged at this shirt, bringing his cheek to your lips.

your hand found his lower back, rubbing sweetly. "have you finished halving the tomatoes? i think the rice should be done by now." you thought aloud, peering over to the opposite end of the counter, seeing the steam pour out of the cooker. "mhm. almost." he murmured, feeling his neck and face warm. you turned to look at him, seeing the all-too-familiar avoidant gaze and awkwardly readjusting of his posture, topped off with a sharp inhale through his nostrils. you smiled knowingly, wrapping your arms around his waist, looking up at him. "did i blink and suddenly twenty-four year old jiyong showed up?" "stop it." he murmured, prolonging that last syllable. "you were so cute back then—" "—am i not cute now?" "hush. let me say my case." his face scrunched up with his smile, landing his forehead against yours. "we didn't know bullshit about anything. you were so keen to please. in more ways that one." he buried his face in your neck, making you laugh, skin hot against yours as your hands traveled up his back. "you're going to kill me." he muttered. "you know," you said to him. "there's not a boring day with you."

arguments aren't non-existent. when they occurred, you both knew each other well enough to take whatever course of action necessary: talking it out, or if things still felt too hot, taking a breather. you trusted each other to know things would mend, no matter if it was immediate or after some hours of silence. the only exception was if one happened before he had to travel for work—he squashed that shit like a bug. he learned that lesson the hard way in his mid-twenties, thinking he could hold out and carry a grudge to prove a point over some petty argument, only to fly home during the first two-day break on tour, knocking on your door when he knew you were home from work. jiyong couldn't live with it, being hundreds if not thousands of miles away from you, knowing something was pestering your mind, or hurt was ruminating somewhere inside you. no relationship is perfect, but he would be damned if he didn't at least try—especially through the ruckus you've endured from being with someone as famous as him. to jiyong, its the least he could do. he feels fortunate the universe led him to a spouse who wants to handle things with care as much as he does—to move mutually and maturely.

when he misses you, its palpable. whether it be when you leave the passenger's seat after he drops you off at work, or when you can't come with him to new york fashion week, he feels it. as do you. its never nice to wake up to an empty house, or an unfamiliar hotel room, but you make due. texts suffice as much as it can if you can't facetime, making you grin to yourself at your desk: Do you like it? he sent over a mirror selfie and staff-taken photos of him in a chanel ensemble he wore to a runway show in what was his afternoon and your early morning, hearting the one where he looked a little caught off guard. I do! Your hair color clashes with the outfit, though you typed back, stifling your laughter at his response ten minutes later: I'm not coming home. I'm laughing too much at my desk you're going to get me in trouble, you responded, only to have to put your hand over your mouth and muffle yourself. Stop laughing at my misery

jiyong texted you throughout the night for you to read in the morning: photos of his food, Here's the beer I paid way too much for, asking about the cats, and selfies of him in any state: one eye open with the other closed as his makeup artist does his eyeshadow; him pretending to smoke his lighter; one where nothing but his eyes and forehead are visible with the car window down halfway, a glimpse of the empire state building behind him with the accompanying Do you know where I am right now; I think we should have gotten married here; to the most recent I miss you a lot my baby. Call me when you wake up sent an hour ago. it was early morning for you and early evening for jiyong—you swiped right on his last message: Good morning from my side of the world; Are you at your hotel? Make sure you're outside in about 10 min. I'm going to have breakfast on the balcony, we can look at the same sky together

jiyong was out to dinner with his staff, excusing himself from the table when your texts came through. he stepped outside, your phone vibrating after you took your first bite of toast. he felt his sinuses loosen, his eyes misty at the sound of your voice on the other end of the line. it hadn't even been twelve hours since he last heard you, but he got worked up nonetheless: "hello? jiyong, can you hear me?" "yeah, honey. i can hear you," he nodded, blinking hard. "i have—i have the wifi. i'm outside. out to dinner." he swallowed. "what does the sky look like for you? its getting dark here. central park is across the street, and i think i see the moon over one of the trees." "hmm," you thought aloud, leaning to your left. "its early here. the sun hasn't come over the building yet. but the sky is clear. its nice today." "yeah?" he smiled, his vision blurry. "thats—thats good. i'm glad, honey." he nodded, looking down at the sidewalk pavement. "listen, uh . . . you need to stop being randomly poetic over text." "randomly poetic?" "like—like what you said about looking at the same sky, or something." his mind was scrambled. you heard him sniffle. "it hit me—it hit me a little hard."

"oh," your heart melted. "i'm . . . sorry?" you heard him laugh on the other side of the line, hiding your face behind your hand from no one. "its okay, honey. its okay." he assured with a stupidly big smile, despite you not being able to see. "i guess what i'm trying to say is, i don't know how i got so lucky." he shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. "and my plane can't come fast enough, you know?" "i know." you nodded, looking down at the floor, corner of your lip caught between your teeth whilst your eyes watered. "you can't make me cry not even an hour after i wake up. you should pay a fine. or something." he let out a colorful laugh, not paying mind to the stares he got from passerbys. "thats fair." he said. "i have to finish breakfast and plate the cats' food. the car'll be coming in ten minutes." "you need to quit that damn job and spend all your time with me. i've been telling you for years now, baby."

you smirked to yourself, taking a bite of your toast. "listen, you keep crying over me like this," you said after taking a sip of water. "then maybe becoming a trophy wife is written in my fate." you joked, hearing him laugh. "i love you!" he exclaimed, smile evident in his voice. "i love you so fucking much, holy shit." "if you're still up by then, i'll call you during my lunch break." "oh, i'll be up. don't worry." he shook his head in reassurance, free hand on his hip. "i'll stay up for you. let me know when you get to work, okay? i love you." "i love you tenderly."

honey's taglist! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა: @gongyoosgf, @infinetlyforgotten, @mesopotamism, @riddlerloveb0t, @pepsicolapussi

[havonte]

Top shows his appreciation towards GD

[topsquid]

G Dragon gifs from him 8lo8lo8lome Instagram live today!!

[reniberries]

TRIPLE THREAT . choi seung-hyun and kwon ji-yong

extras . chapter one sneak peak

summary: in which three of the biggest k-pop idols in 2016 can’t seem to stay away from each other, even as the media tries to tear them apart.

warnings: choi seung-hyun x female reader x kwon ji-yong, polyamorous relationship, smut, angst, toxic industries

total wc: 508 words

31/12/2023 . Y/N’S APARTMENT . 12:34

You had told yourself you weren't going to read the bloody article. That you didn't care what the world had to say about you anymore, and that anyone who was still using your name was only doing so for nostalgia's sake. Even the stupid title was pissing you off, 'looking back on Korea's biggest idols!', how utterly ridiculous, it had been almost six years since the world had heard from you, yet they were treating your name like you'd been dead for two decades.

It took a few seconds of scrolling to find your own name, kindly placed at number three out of the mere fifty-odd names mentioned.

'L/N Y/N, more commonly known as SOL, was one of the most well-known idols between the years 2013 to 2017. her unique alternative sense of fashion, and her hybrid mix of Korean pop and rock set her aside from other idols around this time. Having signed with YG Entertainment, who wanted to defer from the typical idol aesthetic, solo artist Y/N was used as a test to kickstart this new sub genre of K-pop.' Where did they even get this information from? Wikipedia? Famous birthdays?

It wasn't incorrect, per se, but the wording left an icky feeling lingering inside your stomach. They'd made you seem important, as though you'd actually managed to make some kind of change within the industry. You had tried, God, you tried, but there was only so much you could say when nobody was willing to listen.

Against your better judgement, you kept reading.

'As part of the YG family, Y/N was well acquainted with their other artists, such as BIGBANG and 2NE1, and has participated in many collaborations with the aforementioned groups.' Christ Almighty, you were half tempted to throw your laptop across your living room. Technically, you had asked for this, to relive the past, but actually reading it, seeing the words on your screen, brought the memories of your past crashing down on you in waves.

You should have stopped there, as soon as you'd caught a glimpse of their names written in an ugly font. Perhaps it was curiosity, or some sort of morbid punishment for yourself, that forced you to read on.

'At the beginning of 2018, L/N Y/N was involved in a series of controversies relating to BIGBANG members Choi Seung-hyun (T.O.P) and Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon). After a whistleblowing incident, it was revealed to the public that Y/N had been partaking in the act of smoking marijuana, along with rumours of an inappropriate relationship between herself and the two aforementioned males. These issues were detrimental to her fall in fame and respect as an idol.'

That was the last straw. The one that made you slam your laptop shut and quite literally chuck it to the other end of the couch. Then, you yelled. Screamed until your throat became raw and then screamed some more.

As if they knew the truth, as if they knew anything about you and the people you love— loved.

author’s note: hi! the amount of love shown to triple threat already has been so nice to see, and i’m super happy to share the story! i thought posting a little sneak peak would keep you guys excited for the first chapter

© reniberries . please do not copy or repost my work on any other platforms !

[emmiesoverthemoon]

GIRL your writing is ama-ZING!!! i need answers of why you arent like globally FAMOUS by now like—-

if youd like, could you maybe do something like headcanon-y?? like bigbang as your bf doing __ or something idk!

i know u will spit out something incredible like you always do ;) THANK U SO MUCH ☺️

that is so nice of u to say tysm! ill try my best to do as u wish:)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he’s so boyfriend

Pairings: choi seunghyun x reader / kwon jiyong x reader / kang daesung x reader

Word Count: 4,315

Summary: just cute little scenarios between u and each guy as requested :)

part two part three

note: i purposely didnt include taeyang because he’s married and it felt weird to me so sorry about that! pls forgive me🙏🏻

pov: you got a haircut

seunghyun: nonchalant teases

You walk into the living room, your newly styled hair catching the light just right, feeling a little nervous but hopeful. Seunghyun is lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone, looking effortlessly relaxed. You stand there for a moment, waiting for him to look up, your hands fidgeting slightly as you wait for his reaction.

"Hey, Seunghyun," you call, your voice a little unsure. "Notice anything different?"

He does not look up immediately, his thumb scrolling lazily across the screen. "Hmm? What, did you get a new outfit?" he asks nonchalantly, as if he doesn’t even notice how different you look. You feel your stomach flutter nervously, unsure if he’s joking or actually hasn’t noticed.

You were about to say something when he finally looks up at you, his eyes scanning your appearance. "Ohhh wait... I know," he says with a teasing smile. "You got your hair done, didn’t you?" His voice is full of feigned nonchalance, like he’s somehow too cool to be impressed. Your face flushed in embarrassment.

Then, Seunghyun’s grin widens, and you catch the gleam in his eyes. "You look gorgeous," he says, his voice soft and sincere, but there is a hint of mischief in his smile. "I just love seeing you all flustered for a second."

You blink, realising it was a playful tease. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns on you, and a small laugh escapes your lips. "You’re awful," you say, shaking your head in mock exasperation, though you can’t help but smile.

He chuckles, standing up and walking over to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I know. But you look amazing, really," he adds, his tone softening, and you can’t help but melt at the sincerity in his voice.

jiyong: private hairdresser

You sit in front of the mirror, fingers gently running through your hair, wondering whether it’s time for a trim. Jiyong, who has been quietly observing you from across the room, catches your gaze and flashes a knowing smile. You both know well that when it comes to your hair, you can be particularly picky. He had learned this first-hand after the time he dyed your hair for you for the first time—meticulously mixing the colors, then giving it a gentle trim. When he finished, you were thrilled with the result, and his confidence as a stylist only grew from there.

"You want a trim, don’t you?" Jiyong asks, his tone light yet sincere, his gaze fixed on you with an almost intuitive understanding.

You nod, not even needing to say anything further. He had always been attuned to what you need, especially when it comes to something as personal as your hair. After that first experience, where he’d so carefully tended to your hair, you’d grown to trust him with it completely. And, as it turned out, his skills were impeccable. From that day forward, whenever you wanted a trim—or any little change to your hair—you knew you could rely on him. No appointments, no salon waiting rooms. Just him, a set of scissors, and a calm, focused energy that made you feel completely at ease.

With a soft chuckle, he pats the chair beside him. "Come here, I’ll do it. You know I don’t mind. Just tell me how much you want off."

You smile, feeling a wave of warmth. It’s one of those simple, intimate moments—where he not only remembers the little things about you but also goes out of his way to make sure you feel cared for in the most thoughtful ways. Jiyong is not just cutting your hair; he’s taking care of something precious to you, and it’s that quiet, gentle understanding that makes you appreciate him even more.

daesung: loving overthinker

The moment you step through the front door, Daesung’s eyes immediately light up, his smile widening in delight. “Wow, your hair looks incredible!” he exclaims, practically bouncing on his heels. His enthusiasm is so genuine that it almost feels like a celebration of your new look. “It looks so beautiful on you! I love it!”

For a split second, he pauses, his gaze flickering between your face and your hair, as if considering the implications of his excitement. The realisation hits him like a wave: he does not want you to think that he is implying you looked bad before. His hands fly to his face, and a flurry of nervousness floods his expression. “I mean, not that you didn’t look amazing before! You always look great, but this… it’s just so fresh, you know?” he stammers, trying to assure you that it’s not a comparison, merely admiration.

You can’t help but laugh at his adorably flustered reaction, a soft warmth blooming in your chest. He is certainly the type to pour all his love and affection into every moment, and right now, his heart is spilling over. Without a second thought, he moves closer, running his fingers gently through the ends of your hair, as if savoring the feel of the fresh cut. “It just feels so new,” he says, almost in awe. “I think I might be in love with it.”

Every touch, every word, is soaked in pure affection—Daesung never holds back when it comes to showing how much he adores you, and this is no exception. He cannot help but marvel at how something as simple as a haircut can make you even more radiant, and he has all the love in the world to give.

pov: helping yourself to his wardrobe

jiyong: fashion cultivator

Jiyong’s eyes light up with that signature gleam whenever he sees you in his clothes. It’s a small thing, but to him, it feels like a sweet, intimate form of affection. One evening, after an effortlessly casual suggestion, he tosses you a selection of designer outfits he believes you will stun in. "Hey, try these on," he says, his voice light but filled with fondness. "I think you will look amazing in them."

You raise an eyebrow, amused, but decide to indulge him. Stepping into his clothes, you feel the fabric hang differently on you—larger, looser, but somehow more comforting. You do a little walk across the room, giving him a playful twirl.

Jiyong watches with that same adoration in his eyes, his mouth slightly parted as he takes in the sight of you in his clothes. His voice, low and teasing, fills the space. "Wow, you look so hot, so gorgeous in my clothes baby," he says, the words slipping out in a way that only makes you blush more. You laugh, shaking your head, your cheeks heated from the flattery. "Oh my gosh, Jiyong, stop."

He doesn’t stop, though. In fact, he grins wider, clearly enjoying every second of it. But it is not just about how good you look; it is the way he can see how much you enjoy the moment, how you trust him enough to play along with his little games, that makes his heart swell.

Although Jiyong absolutely loves seeing you in his clothes, there is a small, playful part of him that finds even more delight in the moment when it is time to take those clothes off. The teasing glint in his eye when he tells you, “But, between you and me, I think I enjoy taking it off you just a little more,” makes the room feel warmer. You roll your eyes, laughing but secretly enjoying the playful flirtation.

A balance between admiration and affection, between the thrill of seeing you dressed in his things and the even sweeter joy of undressing you, not just physically, but in every other way, too. With each moment, he makes you feel not only loved but like the most important person in his world.

daesung: returns the favour (tries to)

Daesung’s eyes widen the moment you step out wearing his new jacket. His reaction is immediate, his mouth parting in surprise. “You look better than me in that,” he exclaims, his voice soft but filled with genuine awe. Without missing a beat, he adds, “Please, have it. It suits you so much more than it ever suited me.”

You watch as he freezes in place, his cheeks flushing a soft pink, as if the realization of how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life just hit him all at once. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, the admiration in his eyes clear. “I really scored,” he mutters under his breath, almost in disbelief, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. His heart swells with affection for you, and his shyness only adds to the sweetness of the moment.

Unable to resist the playful urge to return the favour, he opens one of your drawers and retrieves a shirt, grinning. However, once he attempts to slip it on, it becomes immediately apparent that the shirt is much too small— his muscular frame is too broad for the fit of your top.

Daesung freezes once again, his face going an even deeper shade of red as his biceps stretch the fabric to its limits. His arm muscles are so defined that they make the shirt look comically small, and the sight has him utterly flustered. “Ah, uh… maybe not,” he says with a sheepish laugh, trying to adjust the sleeves with a nervous chuckle. “It seems like I’ve made a bit of a mistake there. My muscles might’ve just ruined this.”

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, still blushing, but he cannot hide the fact that he finds the entire situation endearing. It’s moments like this, small and tender, that remind him just how much he treasures you in his life.

seunghyun: playful annoyance

Seunghyun has this endearing way of acting “annoyed” whenever you casually grab one of his clothes, but anyone who knows him well can tell it is just an act. The moment you reach for one of his favorite jackets, his eyes narrow playfully, and he crosses his arms with a mock sigh. “Princess I just washed that. I didn’t even get to wear it yet,” he says, his tone dripping with exaggerated annoyance, though the hint of a smile at the corners of his lips betrays him.

What he doesn’t admit, however, is that he purposely places his items—especially the ones he knows you adore—in the most obvious spots. His shirts, jackets, and accessories are always within easy reach, as if he’s leaving little hints for you, an unspoken invitation for you to take whatever you like. It’s his subtle way of telling you that you can have anything, without ever needing to say the words aloud.

While he may joke about it, there is something profoundly genuine behind his actions. Seunghyun is the type of man who believes that actions speak louder than words. He doesn't need to express his affection through grand gestures or declarations. Instead, it’s the small, everyday things—like leaving his clothes lying around for you to claim as your own—that convey just how deeply he cares for you. His playful “annoyance” is just a cover for how much he loves the idea of you wearing his things, a silent yet meaningful gesture that shows how much you mean to him.

pov: missing you while you’re at work

daesung: a little clingy

As soon as you step into work, Daesung begins to text you, his messages coming in rapid succession. “I’m withering away without you,” he writes first, followed almost immediately by another: “Answer me now or I’ll die.” His playful exaggeration masks the truth—he misses you deeply. Every minute that passes without you feels a little too long for him. He can’t help but send these messages, his affection for you pouring out in the most dramatic, endearing ways.

By the time you return home, if you’ve had a good day, you can expect Daesung to greet you with a flood of warmth. The moment he sees you, he is all smiles, his arms opening wide as he practically envelops you in a tight embrace. “You’re finally here,” he murmurs into your hair, holding you with a kind of quiet intensity. “I missed you so much.”

If you hadn’t had a rough day, he would refuse to let go, his arms locking around you as though afraid you might slip away again. It’s not a possessiveness, but rather the deep affection he holds for you—his desire to keep you close, to feel the comfort of your presence. His playful texts earlier were just a small indication of how much he cherishes you, how the simplest moments without you feel incomplete. If you had had a bad day, expect a bath if your preferred temperature drawn for you, equipped with anything you could him for to help you relax. Massage? Solitude? Wine and a meal? Daesung has got you covered, no questions asked.

seunghyun: subtle but sweet

Seunghyun is the epitome of calm when you’re at work, sending the occasional text or casually checking in, but never overwhelming you. He is cool and composed, his messages lighthearted and easygoing, giving you the space you need during your day. It’s clear, however, that he misses you. The moment you walk through the door, the change in his demeanor is subtle but undeniable.

Without saying a word, he takes a few steps toward you, his hand brushing gently against yours as if confirming you are really there, as if his mind needs a little reassurance. He does this repeatedly, not in an overwhelming way, but with soft, fleeting touches—his fingers grazing the back of your hand as you walk past, a hand resting lightly on your shoulder as you take off your coat, or the softest tap on your arm as you sit down. They are brief moments, just enough to remind both of you that he is there, that you are there.

It’s his way of showing affection, of expressing how much he missed you without saying a word. There’s a tenderness in how he keeps his touches gentle and brief, knowing that you’ve been working all day and don’t need any added pressure. But the more he touches you, the more his fondness for you is revealed—his quiet way of letting you know he is happy you are home, and that his world feels a little more complete with you in it.

jiyong: bragging rights

While you’re at work, Jiyong is never far from your thoughts, and he makes sure you know it. He sends you playful pictures throughout the day—pictures of the cats in their most mischievous poses or snapshots of him pulling silly faces. “You could be having so much fun with us right now,” he teases in one message, “but you're at wooorrrkkk ha ha ha.” His lighthearted tone brings a smile to your face, and even though you’re busy, it’s hard not to feel warmth from his affection.

By the time you return home, the energy shifts as Jiyong greets you with that familiar, cheerful smile. “Yay, you’re home!” he exclaims, as though he’s been waiting for this moment all day. He’s already thinking of ways to unwind with you, his favorite part of the day. “Let’s have a nap, or something,” he suggests softly, his tone filled with a kind of quiet contentment. His hands gently pull you toward the couch, and you can’t help but melt into his embrace.

It’s in these moments, when the silliness and sweetness merge, that you realize how much he treasures the simple time spent with you. It’s not about grand gestures—it’s about the little things, like sending silly pictures to brighten your day or wanting nothing more than to curl up together and rest. In his eyes, being with you is the most natural and beautiful thing in the world.

pov: a person talks about wanting you when you’re not around to him

jiyong: secure and confident

Jiyong is the kind of person who exudes nothing but pure confidence, especially when it comes to you. It’s not arrogance; it’s the unshakable security he feels in your relationship, the deep trust and certainty that you two are exactly where you're meant to be. When someone mentions you in his presence while you're away, his smile turns just a bit smug—he can practically feel their gaze lingering, but he knows better.

"She’s amazing, isn’t she?" someone might say, a hint of something more than just respectful admiration in their voice. Jiyong’s response is immediate, dripping with confidence. “You wish she would look at you like she looks at me,” he says casually, the words smooth but laced with a subtle challenge. He knows that no one can take your attention away from him—not even if they tried.

"Want her?" Jiyong continues, his tone almost mocking now, his confidence radiating like a shield. "Get in line. You’ll be waiting for a long, long time." His smirk deepens, and there’s an almost playful menace in the way he claims you. It’s not that he’s territorial; it’s just that you’re his, and he’s fully aware of it. No one else stands a chance, and he has no qualms about making that clear.

He’s secure, so secure in the bond you share that he doesn’t even need to raise his voice or act possessive. His quiet self-assurance says it all. You are his, and there’s no room for doubt. Even when others try to make their presence known, Jiyong’s smirk tells them everything they need to know—he’s not worried, not jealous. He’s too busy being confident in the fact that you chose him, and that’s more than enough.

daesung: chaotic and lighthearted

Daesung’s reaction to jealousy is a little more chaotic, a lot more playful, and full of the kind of silly energy that only he could pull off. When someone dares to show interest in you while you’re out, he doesn’t hold back. The moment the interaction happens, he’s already making his presence known, albeit in his own quirky way.

“You want her?” he says loudly, with a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Well, that’s too bad! She’s already spoken for… by me!” His voice rings with exaggerated confidence, a mix of playfulness and possessiveness, though it’s all in good fun. It’s clear to anyone within earshot that he knows you would never leave him, and he’s just having a bit of fun with the situation. He’s not worried, but he sure does like making his claim known.

But it doesn’t end there. After the interaction, Daesung can’t resist sending you a message, a mix of amusement and endearing insecurity creeping into his words. “Someone told me this, can you believe it?” he writes, adding a string of laughing emoticons. “Tell me I’m your favorite right now.” His playful tone betrays how much he craves that reassurance, even though he knows you’d never even consider anyone else.

It’s in these moments that Daesung’s bright nature shines through—he’s not afraid to be a little extra when it comes to you, and he loves making sure you know just how much he values you. There’s something so charming about the way he mixes his lighthearted teasing with his unwavering affection for you.

seunghyun: collected and soft

Seunghyun, ever the composed figure, handles the situation with a quiet, collected air. When another man makes his interest in you known, he stands firm, his demeanor cool and dismissive. “Cute,” he might say, the words measured and calm. “But she’s happily with me, so I’d rather you didn’t say all that. It’s disrespectful.” His voice remains steady, his expression neutral—he has no need to raise his tone or escalate things. He’s confident in your relationship, and he knows that no one can truly take you away from him.

But as he returns home to you later, the interaction lingers in his mind. Seunghyun has always been secure in your love, and you make sure he knows you choose him every day. Even so, there’s still that fleeting, subtle twinge of insecurity—something he won’t fully admit but can’t quite shake. It’s the way his mind keeps replaying the encounter, and despite his outward calm, he can’t help but feel a little put off by it all.

When you greet him, sensing something is off, you offer the reassurance he needs in your usual way. “That guy was probably ugly as hell anyway,” you tease with a playful smile. “I hate him.”

In an instant, Seunghyun’s posture shifts. The slight tension that had been pulling at him dissolves, replaced by a softer, possessive warmth. His gaze softens, and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he takes a step closer. “You are so wanted by many,” he murmurs, his voice tender, but with that unmistakable edge of possessiveness that only he could express so gently. His hands wrap around your waist, tugging you flush to his torso, a smirk spreads across his face. “But you are all mine. I don’t like to share.”

His words, though possessive, are laced with affection and a kind of quiet pride. It’s not about control or doubt—it’s about the way he cherishes you and the security he finds in knowing you are his, always. With that, the lingering insecurity melts away, and all that remains is the warmth of his love for you.

pov: you have a moment of insecurity

seunghyun: actions are louder than words

There’s a moment, one of those quiet, unspoken instances, where Seunghyun sees a part of himself in you. It’s subtle, but it cracks his heart just a little bit—watching you wrestle with your own insecurities, feeling that weight of self-doubt that he’s familiar with all too well. He’s not one to say much about feelings, preferring instead to show them through actions. So, when he sees you struggle, he doesn’t need to fill the space with words right away.

Instead, he pulls you closer to him, his arms wrapping around you with that quiet certainty you’ve come to know. His hands slide through your hair gently, the motion soothing, a physical reassurance that he’s here, that you’re safe, that you are seen. He lets you vent, allowing you the space to voice your frustrations, your fears, whatever is troubling you in that moment. He listens intently, his touch a grounding force, offering nothing but patience and understanding.

When you’ve said everything you need to, and there’s a fragile silence between you, Seunghyun’s voice breaks it softly, but with an undercurrent of sincerity that can’t be denied. “You don’t need to be perfect,” he says, the words carefully chosen, weighted with meaning. “I love you exactly as you are.”

It’s a simple statement, but it carries the weight of everything he feels for you—the love that doesn’t demand perfection, the acceptance that goes beyond superficial flaws, the devotion to the real, raw person you are. In that moment, his words are not just reassurance; they are a promise. A promise that no matter what, you are enough for him, just as you are.

daesung: pure loving disbelief

Daesung is completely astonished when he hears that you’re feeling insecure. To him, you are nothing short of perfection—an angel sent from heaven, someone so effortlessly radiant that the very idea of you doubting your worth confounds him. He can’t fathom it, and his heart aches at the thought that you might not see yourself the way he does.

Without a second thought, he showers you with affection. His voice, warm and genuine, fills the air as he starts to heap compliments upon you, one after the other, each word more sincere than the last. “You are incredible,” he says, his tone full of admiration. “No one could ever compare to you.”

As if his words weren’t enough, Daesung’s hands are all over you, not in any overwhelming way, but in a gentle, comforting manner. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose—each kiss infused with love and tenderness. The rhythm of his affection is steady, like a gentle reassurance that you are more than enough, more than what you give yourself credit for.

And, slowly, as his kisses and words sink in, you begin to feel it—his love, his unwavering belief in you. “Don’t let anyone make you feel less amazing than you are,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice full of certainty. The softness in his voice carries a deep, protective warmth, and as you look at him, you can’t help but smile. His ability to see you as perfect, just as you are, fills you with a newfound sense of confidence. In his eyes, there is no one better than you.

jiyong: tender, simple yet meaningful support

In your moment of vulnerability, Jiyong’s presence is a steady, calming force. He’s not one to rush in with words; instead, he allows the silence to stretch between you both, giving you the space to gather your thoughts or share whatever is on your mind. His quiet understanding fills the space, an unspoken comfort that lets you know he’s there, ready to listen if you choose to speak.

When the silence lingers, he finally reaches for your hands, his touch warm and gentle. His fingers move in slow, soothing circles, a soft reassurance that grounds you. He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes filled with sincerity and a depth of affection that words could never fully capture.

"I’m not going anywhere," he says, his voice low and steady, the promise wrapped in every syllable. "You are the best thing I could ever ask for."

His words are simple, but they carry the weight of everything he feels for you—his unwavering commitment, his deep love, and his absolute certainty in who you are. In that moment, his reassurance is all-encompassing, easing the weight on your heart, making you feel cherished and secure. With Jiyong, you never have to worry. He is there, always, loving you exactly as you are.

i hope you enjoyed reading those! my requests are open if you have anything you’d like from me

thx for reading!

[bigbangicons]

welcome back my king ♡ kwon jiyong is back.

do not repost

[rosones]

social media au - being in a relationship with gdragon

liked by xxxibgdrgn, chanelofficial, & 6,479,283 others

y/n ✓ - chanel , paris fashion week

view comments

kyliejenner ✓ - hottie

liked by author

user - love that she’s an ambassador 🤍

user - her fashion sense gives me life

user - baddest bitch EVER

liked by y/n, chanelofficial, ttt, & 7,374,938 others

xxxibgdrgn ✓- chanel

view comments

user - he’s so fine

user - did him and y/n go to the show together???

ttt ✓ - 😍😍

liked by author

user - love me a man who can be masculine and feminine at the same time

user - his nails are always so cute

[bambambwi]

I Want One Too!

You and your boyfriend, Kwon Ji Yong, were invited to a show where you had to babysit a toddler. (slight mentions of smut at the end)

────────────────────

As the car pulled up in front of the house, you glanced over at ji yong, who was carefully holding a neatly wrapped gift bag on his lap. His eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"You think the she will like these?" he asked, lifting the bag slightly.

‘’Of course! Who wouldn’t love gifts from Kwon Ji Yong ?" you said smiling.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Let’s hope so..’’

With that, the two of you stepped out of the car and walked toward the front door. You knocked gently a few times, and soon, a figure appeared. Introducing himself as junseo, the toddler’s father, he stepped aside and welcomed you both into the house.

ji yong looked around, holding the gift bag, eager to spot the baby girl. You stood behind him, leaning over his shoulder as you searched for her too.

“sua!’’ the father called out, and a tiny face peeked out from the pink tent. ‘‘Look, it’s ji yong and y/n! I’ve been telling you about them."

You both leaned forward slightly, waving at sua as ji yong held up the gift bag. ‘’Hi, sua! we brought you a gift, look!’’

She walked toward you both and curiously peeked into the gift bag Ji Yong was holding. Smiling, ji yong kneeled down to open the gift with sua, while junseo walked to the front door, grabbing his bag. ‘’See you in five, darling!’’ he called out before stepping outside.

"Wow! Pretty nails!’’ sua squealed as you sat down beside her. ‘’Wow, so pretty! sua, would you like to put them on?’’ you asked.

To both of your surprise, she shook her head. ji yong sat in disbelief for a moment before sua suddenly pointed at your hand. ji yong leaned in closer, laughing.

‘‘Haha, okay! Let’s put them on y/n’s hand instead!’’

Once sua finished with your right hand, ji yong gently took your left hand so she could continue, but to your surprise again, she shook her head again.

‘’You’re only doing one hand, sua?’’ you asked, tilting your head.

‘‘I want to do ji yong’s hand now!’’ sua giggled, excitedly jumping onto your lap.

After she finished with his hand, ji yong shifted closer to you, pulling out his phone for a picture. You both raised your hands to show off sua’s work while she flashed the cutest smile ever.

Unable to hold back his excitement over her cuteness, ji yong fell back laughing. sua, who had been sitting on your lap, now giggled as she ended up sitting on his stomach.

ji yong let out a playful groan, dramatically placing a hand over his chest. “Ahh, sua, you got me! I can’t move!”

sua gasped, her eyes widening. “Oh no!” she giggled, patting his cheeks with her tiny hands.

He grinned up at you, then looked at sua. “y/n! Help me! I’m under attack!”

You crossed your arms, pretending to think but before you could respond, sua giggled and clapped her hands. “Join me, y/n!”

Laughing, you reached over and lightly tickled his side, making him squirm even more.

ji yong groaned in fake defeat. “I can’t believe this…!’’ while sua cheered, raising her hands.

‘’hey, sua are you hungry?’’ you asked and when she nodded, you got up and walked into the kitchen to get the food her father had prepared before heading out.

Still lying on the floor, ji yong watched as sua walked over to grab the remote for the television. He helped her switch to the channel she wanted without getting up. Satisfied, she took the remote and lay down on top of him, resting her face on his chest while facing the screen, her tiny hands dangling over his sides. He gently placed his hand on her back, unaware that her eyes were slowly beginning to close.

Luckily, you returned to the living room just in time to see sua almost drifting off to sleep. Gently raising your voice, you called out to ji yong to wake her up while you placed her food on the table.

He sat upright with sua on his lap, holding her securely. As you began to spoon-feed her, ji yong gently cupped her cheeks, trying to keep her from dozing off.

"Last bite, sua! Say aah’’ you said, holding up the spoon.

Once she took the last bite, you stood up and gathered the empty plates to wash them, while ji yong helped sua drink some water.

After taking the empty glass from ji yong and washing it, you placed it back before returning to the living room.

looking up at the clock, you glanced back at ji yong and said ‘’its almost 6pm’’

“sua, let's go pick out your pajamas with y/n. It’s almost your bedtime" ji yong said with a smile.

sua rubbed her eyes sleepily but nodded, reaching out for your hand. You gently took it and led her toward her room. Opening the small dresser, you glanced at sua with a smile.

"Which one do you want to wear tonight?"

She scanned the options with tired eyes before pointing to a pink pajama set with little bunny prints. as ji yong headed back to the living room while you stayed to help sua change. Once she was dressed in her bunny pajamas, she let out a tiny yawn, rubbing her eyes before reaching for you. Meanwhile, ji yong waited on the couch, glancing toward the hallway to check if she was ready.

You carried sua to the living room, gently patting her back as she slowly drifted off to sleep with her head resting on your shoulder. Noticing the two of you, ji yong walked over quietly, leaning in to take a closer look at the peacefully sleeping sua.

"Aw, she’s the cutest’’ ji yong whispered, smiling as he gently brushed a strand of hair from sua’s face.

you hummed in response, shifting slightly as ji yong placed a hand on your back for support, leaning in to get a closer look at sua.

ji yong smiled softly, watching the way sua’s tiny breaths fell into rhythm. “She really knocked out fast,” he whispered, careful not to wake her.

You chuckled quietly. “She had a long day of playing and defeating you in battle.”

 “Hey, I let her win.” he said scoffing playfully

You gave him a knowing look, and he smirked before gently brushing his fingers over sua’s back. “She’s so small,” he murmured, almost in awe. he glanced at you, his gaze softening “You’re really good with her, you know?”

Before you could respond, the sound of the front door clicking open caught both of your attention, junseo had returned.

"Seems like she fell asleep, haha’’ junseo chuckled softly as he stepped inside, setting his things down before gently reaching out to take sua from your arms.

"She had a great time’’ you said with a smile, carefully passing sua to junseo.

He chuckled, ‘’I’ll put her to bed now’’ he said walking into her room. You and ji yong quietly followed behind, watching as he gently laid her down on the bed, tucking her in with care.

"Sleep well, sua’’ you both whispered softly before quietly stepping out of her room.

junseo walked you both to the door, smiling as he thanked you for coming today.

"I’ll never hear the end of you two from her again’’ junseo chuckled, shaking his head fondly.

"We’d gladly come back if sua wants us to!’ ji yong said with a grin as he walked away from the door.

"You know, it wouldn’t hurt to have a little one running around the house’’ ji yong teased with a mischievous grin, pulling you close by the waist as you both walked toward the car.

“ji yong!" you exclaimed, playfully nudging his side as you felt your cheeks warm up.

He chuckled, opening the car door. "What? I’m just saying… wouldn’t it be nice?" he teased while getting in.

Shaking your head with a small smile, you buckled your seatbelt. "Let’s get through today first before you start planning for the future" you replied.

he pouted dramatically, turning to you with wide eyes.

"But I don’t want to..'' he whined, gripping the steering wheel.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Don’t want to what?"

he leaned back in his seat with a sigh, his hand casually running along your thigh.

"To wait that long'' he muttered, a playful smirk creeping onto his lips.

You felt a shiver at his touch and shot him a look, but before you could respond, he suddenly leaned in, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. His hand tightened slightly on your thigh, pulling you closer.

Your breath hitched at the intensity, but you quickly melted into it, your hands instinctively reaching for him. The warmth of his lips, the way he held you, it was all consuming.

When he finally pulled away, he didn’t say another word just started the car and began driving home. His hand, however, remained on your thigh, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles against your skin.

feeling warmth spread through you at his touch. “ji.. focus on the road" you muttered, trying to sound firm, but your voice wavered slightly.

He just smirked, keeping his eyes on the road as his fingers continued their slow, teasing circles on your thigh.

When he finally pulled up to your place, he put the car in park but didn’t move to get out. Instead, he turned to you, his eyes dark with mischief.

"You look nervous" he mused, tilting his head slightly.

You scoffed, trying to play it off. "I’m not!”

As you stepped out of the car, your legs felt a little unsteady, heat creeping up your spine from the way he had just looked at you. You barely had time to take a breath before he was right behind you, his presence overwhelming.

he murmured against your ear, his voice low and teasing. "No running tonight."

────────────────────

[wardo]

G-DRAGON, DAESUNG and TAEYANG performing HOME SWEET HOME

[pinkmoontaco]

Hii it's me again lol about the g dragon, can i request something like kwon jiyong x idol reader, reader is younger than him (OF COURSE LEGAL AGE HAHA), she's a soloist or in a girl group (you decide 🥰) when bigbang performed in the mama awards just last year so iconic lol, after they performed they have to sit with other artists, he purposely planned talked to some staffs to make his and her group sit together, and they have some moments that the fans caught on and yes HAHAHA you continue BUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT, idk if you could understand it 😔😔😔 i dont know to explain this properly lol

Exposed || Kwon Jiyong

Pairing: Idol Jiyong X Idol Reader Genre: Fluff Summary: Jiyong and Y/N, a idol from a popular girl group, have been secretly dating. However, their relationship starts sparking rumors after several accidental (and not-so-accidental) moments at the MAMA Awards. A.N: Please let me know if you guys want a part 2 continuation of this story

Please give it lots of love and support! Don’t forget to leave your thoughts, comments and don't forget to follow for more stories like this—they mean so much to me and help me improve. Your feedback and encouragement keep me motivated to keep writing. Thank you for being patient and sticking with me. Love you guys 💖💖 And also feel free to make any request for any other members or other groups M.list

The night was electric. BIGBANG had just finished their performance, a stage that would be talked about for years. The energy was still buzzing in the air as the members walked off, their breathing still heavy from the adrenaline. And from his place on stage, Jiyong had already located you.

Your group had been watching from the front rows, standing, clapping, and cheering along with the other artists. But unlike the rest, you felt the heat of his gaze.

You knew you had to play it cool. You kept your eyes forward, lips pressed together in the perfect image of a professional junior idol. But when he bowed, when he let his eyes flicker to yours for half a second longer than necessary, you felt your pulse quicken.

It wasn’t over.

Because when it came time for seating arrangements, suddenly, your group was ushered toward BIGBANG’s section.

Your leader glanced at the staff in confusion. “Oh, we’re sitting here?”

A staff member just nodded, completely unaware of the tension brewing beneath the surface. Or maybe they did know. After all, Jiyong had made sure of it.

As you sat down, your assigned seat just happened to be diagonal from his. Close enough for accidental touches. Close enough for subtle games.

And Jiyong? Oh, he was enjoying himself.

The first time your knees brushed, you thought it was an accident. The seating was cramped, and idols were squeezed together with barely any space to move.

But then it happened again.

This time, he pressed his knee deliberately against yours.

You didn’t react. You kept your posture perfect, eyes locked on the stage. But your fingers curled slightly in your lap.

And that was exactly what he wanted.

Jiyong chuckled under his breath, low enough that only you could hear.

"You're good at this," he murmured, barely moving his lips.

You exhaled slowly, keeping your eyes on the performance. "At what?"

"At pretending like I’m not here," he mused. Then, leaning slightly closer, he added, "But I know you feel it."

Your breath hitched. The warmth of his leg against yours, the way his voice sent a shiver down your spine—you hated how easily he affected you.

But two could play this game.

So, without missing a beat, you pressed your knee back against his.

And that was the moment his smirk faltered.

Sometime during the award announcements, a staff member brought bottled water to each table. You twisted open your cap, taking a small sip—only to nearly choke when Jiyong’s ringed fingers casually reached forward, stealing your bottle.

Before you could react, he took a slow sip, completely unbothered.

Your eyes widened, but he merely wiped the corner of his lips with his thumb, setting the bottle back down in front of you.

"Yah," you whispered, shooting him a glare.

"Problem?" he asked innocently, tilting his head.

You scoffed, reaching for another bottle, but before you could, he leaned over and slid the original bottle back toward you.

His voice was barely above a whisper. "Just drink from mine."

Your stomach flipped. You hated that he was enjoying this.

And you hated even more that you took the bottle and drank from it.

It started as something harmless. Just a quick glance in his direction.

But you didn’t realize the camera had zoomed in on you.

At that exact moment, Jiyong, ever the instigator, tapped his fingers against the table in a rhythm only you recognized—a song he’d written for you.

Your lips parted slightly in surprise. He noticed.

And before you could stop it—before you could school your expression into something neutral—your lips curled up in the tiniest smile.

And the fans caught everything.

The camera cut away almost instantly, but not fast enough.

Twitter exploded.

"WHY DID Y/N JUST SMILE OUT OF NOWHERE WHEN GD WAS TAPPING THE TABLE HELPPP"

"WHAT WAS HE TAPPING?? HELLO CODEBREAKERS??"

"Y/N SMILING AFTER GD LOOKED HER WAY... Y'ALL WE'VE SEEN THIS BEFORE 👀"

"GD took HER bottle?? And she didn’t even react?? Oh nah they are not slick."

And then—dispatch dropped a clip.

A grainy, fan-taken video from the upper seats of the arena. The footage was shaky, but clear enough to show:

Jiyong passing your group a drink, but ONLY handing it to you.

The knee touch under the table.

Your stolen glance. Your tiny, traitorous smile.

It was subtle. Barely noticeable to anyone who wasn’t looking.

But the fans? They saw everything.

The awards continued, but you barely registered the winners.

Because Jiyong wasn’t done.

His fingers drummed against the table again. This time, the rhythm wasn’t a song. It was a message.

T-A-L-K T-O M-E

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head slightly.

Jiyong grinned. He saw that.

Then, the absolute menace that he was, he raised a brow and mouthed, "Scared?"

You nearly scoffed. Oh, he wanted to play? Fine.

You leaned in slightly, just enough for only him to hear.

"Oppa," you murmured, voice sweet but laced with warning. "Behave."

The effect was immediate.

Jiyong’s smirk twitched, his fingers freezing for just a second—because he liked it when you called him that. And you knew it.

His hand curled into a loose fist on the table, jaw tightening for a moment before he exhaled and shot you a half-lidded gaze.

"That’s unfair," he murmured back, voice husky.

You bit back a smirk.

You knew Jiyong was watching.

You felt it.

The moment your group took the stage, the energy in the arena shifted—louder screams, flashing lights, and a certain someone sitting comfortably in the artist section, front row, with that signature smirk.

At first, he was composed—just nodding to the beat, sunglasses perfectly in place.

But then?

Then came your part.

The camera panned to him just as you stepped forward for your solo.

The moment your hips rolled, your gaze sharp and commanding—

Jiyong?

Gone.

The man leaned forward, elbows on his knees, sunglasses sliding down his nose as he openly stared.

The live audience noticed instantly.

"HE'S STARING. HE IS NOT EVEN HIDING IT."

"DID Y'ALL SEE HIS SMIRK WHEN Y/N DID HER PART? EXCUSE ME????"

"THIS IS NOT EVEN A FANBOY REACTION. THAT'S A MAN ADMIRING HIS WOMAN."

It got worse when you locked eyes with him for half a second.

Jiyong?

Smirked.

The type of smirk that said, "You know exactly what you're doing, jagiya."

The camera caught it all.

And just when people thought it couldn’t get any more insane—

Mid-performance, a cameraman—who deserves a RAISE—zoomed in on Jiyong again.

This time?

The man was biting his lip.

"JAIL. JAIL FOR THIS MAN."

"Y/N NEEDS TO PAY FOR MY THERAPY BECAUSE HER PERFORMANCE GOT GD LIKE THAT."

"HE'S SO OBVIOUS IT'S EMBARRASSING PLEASE."

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck.

Jiyong?

Still shameless.

By the time your performance ended, he was back to normal, clapping like nothing happened.

But when you walked back to your seat—next to him—he leaned over and whispered:

"You almost killed me up there, sweetheart."

You gritted your teeth. "Serves you right."

He chuckled, voice dangerously low.

"Just wait till later."

Your breath hitched.

And just like that—the night wasn’t over yet.

At the very end of the night, artists were standing, clapping, saying their goodbyes.

Jiyong was walking ahead with the BIGBANG members when, for just a second, he glanced over his shoulder at you.

And you looked back.

The moment lasted only a second, but someone caught it on camera.

A single, slow-motion GIF.

Jiyong turning his head, looking back at you.

Your eyes meeting his.

That split-second smirk before he faced forward again.

Twitter? In flames.

"HE LOOKED BACK. HE LOOKED BACK. OH MY GOD HE LOOKED BACK."

"That was NOT a casual glance. That was a ‘meet me later’ look."

"THE SMIRK. I CAN’T BREATHE."

"They think they’re being sneaky. THEY ARE NOT."

Later That Night…

Your phone buzzed.

Jiyong: So, when are we announcing the wedding?

You: Jiyong-ah.

Jiyong: Yes, my love?

You: I’m going to kill you.

Jiyong: But you’ll miss me too much, won’t you?

YOU: You did that on purpose right?

Jiyong: Of course I did. How else will they know you’re mine?

You: WE ARE NOT GETTING CAUGHT.

Jiyong: Sweetheart, we’ve already been caught.

Jiyong: You looked unreal tonight.

You: You made it OBVIOUS.

Jiyong: You make it hard to behave, jagiya.

You: STOP.

Jiyong: Make me. 😏

You groaned, flopping onto your bed. The worst part? He wasn’t wrong.

And the actual worst part?

You liked it.

It started as fan theories.

A harmless coincidence.

But by the time the MAMA afterparty ended, it had escalated into a full-blown scandal.

TRENDING ON TWITTER

#GDxY/N #Y/N_LuckyGirl #GDRAGON_LostHisCool

THE CLUES THAT STARTED IT ALL:

The Seating Arrangement Scandal

Why was your group suddenly seated next to BigBang when it wasn’t in the original floor plan? 🤨

Fans dug up footage of Jiyong talking to staff before the show.

"HE PLANNED IT. THIS MAN WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO SIT NEXT TO HER."

Jiyong’s Reactions = A Man Down BAD

The lip bite. The smirk. The unholy stare.

"We’ve seen GD fanboy before, but this? This is different."

"He was watching like he already KNEW how that dress looked up close." 😭😭

The Afterparty Coincidence

You and Jiyong left around the same time.

Different cars, but same direction.

Fans noticed your manager looking stressed while BigBang’s team tried to be low-key.

"They didn’t even try to stagger their exits. HELP."

The Matching Accessories Debacle

The next day, Jiyong posted an Instagram story.

A hand, casually holding a glass of wine.

A familiar ring on his finger—the same one you were seen wearing months ago.

"SO WEARING COUPLE RINGS IS JUST A THING NOW? OKAY."

THE COMPANY RESPONSES = SUSPICIOUS AF

Your Agency:

"Y/N and G-Dragon are just industry colleagues. The seating was arranged by MAMA organizers."

YG Entertainment:

"We do not comment on our artists' personal lives."

TRANSLATION: "We're not denying it."

"YG NOT EVEN TRYING TO LIE LMFAO."

"If they weren’t dating, they’d have shut this down IMMEDIATELY. Oh, they’re so caught."

"Just drop the wedding invitation at this point."

After days of speculation, Jiyong did what he does best—

Trolled everyone.

NEW IG POST: A selfie. Smirking. Caption?

"I love MAMA."

THAT’S. IT.

"HE'S PLAYING WITH US HELP."

"SIR JUST CONFIRM IT OR DENY IT. DON’T TEASE US LIKE THIS."

"This man enjoys chaos too much I can’t."

THE INTERNET STILL HASN’T RECOVERED.

And neither have you. 😭🔥

If people weren’t sure before—

Now?

They were certain.

All thanks to one tiny, completely avoidable mistake.

NEW IG POST: Y/N’s Group Behind-The-Scenes Photos!

Your group’s official account posted casual snapshots from rehearsals, practice rooms, and random candid moments from recent schedules.

Harmless, right?

Wrong.

Because eagle-eyed fans noticed something immediately.

THE CLUE THAT BROKE THE INTERNET:

In one mirror selfie, you were holding your phone in the corner.

Reflected in the mirror? A very familiar-looking silver bracelet.

The exact same bracelet Jiyong had been wearing for years.

FAN REACTIONS = PURE CHAOS

"I NEED EVERYONE TO ZOOM IN RIGHT NOW."

"THAT. THAT IS GD’S BRACELET. THAT MAN DOESN’T TAKE IT OFF."

"SO SHE WAS WITH HIM? OR…???"

"Not them getting caught by a MIRROR REFLECTION."

Hours after the bracelet debacle, Jiyong—being Jiyong—made everything worse.

NEW IG POST: A Random Aesthetic Shot

A simple photo of his hand, resting casually on a table.

Except…

The bracelet was front and center.

The background? Suspiciously similar to a place you had visited just days ago.

Caption?

"Good things should be kept close." 😏

FAN REACTIONS = ABSOLUTE CHAOS

"SIR. SIR, THIS IS NOT SUBTLE."

"ARE THEY EVEN HIDING ANYMORE??"

"Y/N POST THE MATCHING PHOTO OR WE RIOT."

"I feel like we’re getting a dating confirmation in 3…2…1."

Chats:

You: Jiyong. YOU. NEED. TO. STOP. 😡

Jiyong: Stop what?

You: YOU KNOW WHAT.

Jiyong: I just like my bracelet. 🤷

You: I WILL THROW THAT BRACELET INTO THE OCEAN.

Jiyong: Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t dive in after it.

You: I AM BLOCKING YOU.

Jiyong: Again? Cute. 😘

One week later, just when the rumors started to die down—

Jiyong did something so reckless that even your company gave up.

NEW IG STORY: A simple photo of his hand intertwined with someone else’s.

The angle? Purposely vague.

But the bracelet?

Still there.

And the nail polish color on the other hand?

The exact same shade you had worn the day before.

Caption?

"Some things don’t need to be explained."

INSTANT WORLDWIDE MELTDOWN.

OFFICIAL STATEMENT FROM BOTH AGENCIES:

"We ask fans to respect our artists’ personal lives."

TRANSLATION: "Yeah, they’re dating. We’re tired. Leave us alone."

THE INTERNET GOES INSANE

"AFTER ALL THAT TEASING, WE FINALLY HAVE CONFIRMATION???"

"GD REALLY SAID SOFT LAUNCH THEN HARD LAUNCH LMAO."

"Y/N YOU ARE THE LUCKIEST WOMAN ALIVE."

"MAMA 2024 BETTER HAVE A COUPLE SEAT ARRANGEMENT READY."

You: Are you happy now?? 😩

Jiyong: Very. 😌

You: You're insufferable.

Jiyong: You love me, though. 😘

You: …Shut up.

Jiyong: Make me. 😏

[loveesiren]

𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝙲𝚛𝚢

Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon) x Reader

a/n: hehehe I was thinking about this time I had sex on acid and I needed to write something. First Jiyong fic so I hope you like! also, disclaimer: in no way shape or form am I trying to convey that GD is like this or uses any sort of drugs. This is purely fiction. Also, if you use any sort of drugs, please be smart and safe. Not all trips are like this so please don't go out trying get this experience 😭

synopsis: Y/n and Ji-yong had been best friends for years but their relationship reaches a new level when they get the chance to try something new.

warnings: drug use (LSD), tripping, smut, fluff, sex under the influence

wc: 3k

“Have you ever done it before?” you asked, holding up the small baggie between your fingers. Inside, two tiny, rainbow-dipped squares of paper rested delicately against the plastic, shimmering under the dim glow of the living room light.

Jiyong glanced down at them, his dark eyes reflecting curiosity and just a hint of hesitation. “No. Have you?”

You shook your head, lips curling slightly at the thought. “Dae gave them to me. On the house—said it was the coolest experience she’s ever had.” You tilted your head, studying Jiyong’s expression. “She said it makes everything… I don’t know, awesome.”

Jiyong sat cross-legged beside you on the couch, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at the tabs. “I’m down if you’re down,” he finally said, his voice lighter, reassuring. He was your best friend, after all. If anyone made you feel safe trying something new, it was him. “I still have a few days off. It won’t last that long, right?”

“Dae said about twelve hours,” you reassured him. “Give or take.”

He hummed, eyes flicking up to yours before a slow grin stretched across his face. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Your stomach fluttered with nervous excitement as you tore open the bag, handing him one of the delicate squares before pressing your own onto your tongue. It tasted like nothing, dissolving slightly as it settled in your mouth.

“She said to let it sit for a while,” you murmured, pressing it between your gums as Jiyong followed suit. A few seconds of silence passed. “What should we do while we wait?” you asked, shifting your weight on the couch.

Jiyong shrugged, scrolling through the seemingly endless options on the TV. “Wanna watch a movie?”

You nodded, curling into the couch cushions as he finally settled on Alice in Wonderland. “If we’re gonna trip, might as well watch something trippy.”

You chuckled. “Good choice.”

As the film began, the room grew darker, the screen’s colorful animations painting both of your faces in a kaleidoscope of hues. Time felt like a strange, stretchy concept—minutes turning into moments, moments into lifetimes. The warmth of Jiyong’s body beside you felt grounding, yet the anticipation of what was to come kept you buzzing beneath your skin.

Then, about an hour in, it hit.

Your head lolled against Jiyong’s shoulder, jaw slack as the screen in front of you twisted and twirled, every color dripping down into the next. The walls breathed in tandem with your heartbeat, the air itself shimmering like static. You blinked slowly, watching as the ceiling seemed to ripple like the surface of a pond.

“Hey, Ji…” Your voice came out in a whisper, reverberating in your own ears like an echo in an endless canyon. “D-do you feel anything?”

Jiyong exhaled, long and slow, before answering. “I feel… something.” His voice wasn’t just sound—it was silk, a melody that wrapped itself around your skin like a warm ribbon.

You shivered, mesmerized. “Say something again.”

“Something?” he teased, turning his head to look at you, but the way his voice moved—like liquid honey pouring into your brain—made you gasp.

Your gaze locked onto his, and you swore his pupils had swallowed the entire galaxy. “Whoa, your pupils are huge,” he murmured, amusement flickering in his smile.

“So are yours.” You reached a hand out to touch his face, but as your fingers moved through the air, they left behind colorful, trailing echoes—shimmering ribbons of pink, blue, and gold that lingered for seconds before fading. “Oh my god,” you giggled, stretching your fingers again just to watch the colors dance.

Jiyong laughed, his voice vibrating through you like the strumming of a bass guitar. “You have, like… a pink aura,” he said, eyes fixed on you. “Like strawberries.”

Your lips curled into a grin as you stared at his neon-green hair, the strands pulsing and swaying as if they had a life of their own. “Your hair is moving.”

His eyes widened, and he ran his fingers through the strands. “No way.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “It’s alive. I think it’s trying to tell me secrets.”

Jiyong burst out laughing, throwing his head back against the couch. The motion sent a ripple through the air like a soundwave, and you giggled in response, feeling the vibrations of his laughter deep in your chest.

“I think we’re tripping,” you finally admitted, voice laced with wonder.

Jiyong sighed, a dazed, blissed-out grin on his face as he stared up at the ceiling, where the paint swirled in hypnotic patterns.

“Cool,” he breathed, utterly amazed.

Everything felt limitless. The walls of the penthouse no longer confined you; they simply melted into the fabric of your existence, expanding outward into the endless night. A sudden, undeniable urge pulled at you—you needed to see the city, to feel its pulse beneath your skin.

Slowly, you forced yourself up from the couch. The warmth of where you had been sitting clung to your skin, and for a fleeting moment, leaving it felt like stepping away from a cocoon of safety. A shiver ran through your body, but the sensation was electric, exhilarating rather than chilling. Your bare toes sank into the plush shag rug of Jiyong’s living room, the fibers so impossibly soft that they sent tingles up your spine. It was like walking on a cloud, each step sinking into bliss.

You glanced down at yourself—just a tight tank top and black panties. When had you stripped down? The thought flickered through your mind like a shooting star—there and gone in an instant, unimportant in the grand scheme of this moment. The only thing that mattered was now.

A soft gasp left your lips as your gaze drifted toward the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. Seoul stretched before you, a sea of twinkling lights dancing like a mirage in the distance. The sight was breathtaking, the city pulsating with life, its energy calling to you like a lover’s whisper.

“Wow…” The word barely escaped your lips as your feet carried you toward the balcony.

Behind you, Jiyong’s fingers skimmed over his phone screen as he added songs to the queue, and the soft hum of bass-heavy dubstep filled the room. The vibrations seeped into your bones, thrumming in sync with your heartbeat. The sound wrapped around you like silk, and without thinking, you let yourself sway to the rhythm, your long hair cascading down your back like liquid gold.

You had no idea that Jiyong was watching you.

From his place on the couch, he was entranced. The way the city lights framed your silhouette against the dark sky made you look ethereal, almost unreal. Your body moved with the music, effortless, hypnotic—like a dream unfolding before him. His cigarette burned between his fingers, forgotten as he watched you sway in the cool night air.

You lingered outside, though time had become meaningless. What felt like moments stretched into eternity, and when you finally drifted back inside, leaving the wide balcony doors open to let the night breeze in, the clock on the wall read 2 a.m.

The music had deepened, the bass vibrating through the walls. You couldn’t stop yourself from moving, couldn’t help the way your hips followed the rhythm as you floated across the room.

Jiyong was still watching you.

You caught his gaze—hooded eyes locked onto you like you were the only thing that existed in the universe. He sat sprawled out on the couch, legs spread lazily, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His black silk shirt was unbuttoned, exposing the intricate tattoos scrawled across his body. The dim city lights made his neon-green hair look like it was glowing.

“Ji, come dance with me…” You giggled, your voice carrying like the melody of the song playing in the background.

He smirked, the sight sending heat straight through your veins. With a final drag, he stubbed out his cigarette and rose to his feet, stretching his arms above his head before making his way toward you.

Jiyong took your hand, fingers lacing with yours as he twirled you effortlessly. “This is so cool,” he murmured, voice a velvety hum in your ear. His head rested against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as his hands found your hips and pulled you flush against him.

The sensation was intoxicating. His touch, his scent, the warmth of his body pressing into yours—it sent shivers of pleasure down your spine.

“Love you, Ji…” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, but they felt so natural, so right.

He lifted his head, strands of electric green falling into his eyes as he looked at you—really looked at you. “I love you, Y/n…”

Your breath hitched.

Something shifted.

This wasn’t just Kwon Ji-Yong—your best friend, your partner-in-crime.

This was your soulmate. The one you had loved for so long, but had never found the courage to say it out loud. But now, here, in this euphoric haze, the connection between you burned so brightly, so intensely, that you needed him. Not just his presence. All of him.

And he knew.

You didn’t need words. The way your eyes locked, the way your lips parted slightly, the way his hands gripped your waist just a little tighter—everything was understood in that instant.

Jiyong leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, and the moment they connected, fireworks erupted inside you. The world around you dissolved, leaving only the sensation of his mouth on yours, his tongue moving in perfect sync with yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him impossibly closer, and he groaned against your lips, deep and desperate.

Your knees gave out, but he was there—always there—catching you, holding you steady. His lips never left yours, only breaking away briefly to whisper against your mouth, “Can I take you to bed?”

The words sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

“Please,” you breathed, voice laced with need.

A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips. He took your hand, guiding you toward his bedroom.

The king-sized bed was draped in silk and velvet, rich shades of crimson and black casting the perfect contrast against the moonlight spilling through the windows. The scene was beautiful—a reflection of the moment itself, dark and intimate, heated yet soft.

Jiyong turned to you, his fingers tilting your chin up before pulling you into another kiss—deeper this time, more possessive. As he walked you both toward the bed, his silk shirt slipped from his shoulders, pooling on the floor. His tattoos stood in sharp relief against his golden skin, and for a moment, you could only stare—dazed, overwhelmed, hungry.

The second your back met the sheets, you were in heaven. The fabric was cool against your flushed skin, sending a shiver up your spine, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of Jiyong’s body hovering over you. His lips were everywhere—trailing over your face, your jaw, the column of your throat. They whispered over your collarbones, traced the curve of your shoulders, dipped lower to explore every inch of you he could find. His kisses were slow, reverent, as if he were worshiping you with each press of his lips.

“Mmm… Ji…” His name spilled from your lips in a soft, breathy whisper, a sound that sent a jolt of pleasure through his veins.

Jiyong grinned against your skin, his mouth just above yours, teasing. “Say my name again.”

You barely hesitated, your fingers tangling in his hair as you murmured, “Jiyong…”

A soft groan rumbled from his chest. The sound alone made your body ache for him. He rested his forehead against your sternum, letting himself linger there for a moment, savoring the way your heartbeat raced beneath his lips. Then, slowly, he hooked his index finger under the fabric of your panties, tugging lightly.

“This okay, baby?” His voice was hushed, thick with longing.

That one simple word—baby—sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach, warmth blooming deep inside you.

“Yes,” you breathed, arching into his touch. “Keep going…”

He smirked, pleased by your desperation, and helped you out of your shirt, his fingers ghosting over your skin as he discarded the fabric. He took his time, trailing kisses downward, each touch of his lips sparking tiny electric shocks that ignited beneath your skin. His mouth traced a slow, tantalizing path from your collarbone to the swell of your breasts, down your stomach, lower still.

Your breath hitched when he hooked his fingers into your panties and dragged them down your legs, his touch featherlight as his fingers brushed your thighs. The cool air sent goosebumps across your bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the fire smoldering in Jiyong’s gaze as he took you in, drinking in every inch of you like you were something sacred.

He placed soft, wet kisses along the inside of your thighs, taking his time, savoring your taste on his lips. The teasing was agonizing. Each press of his mouth sent waves of anticipation pooling between your legs, leaving you squirming beneath him.

Your own hands roamed over your body, desperate to do something, anything, to ease the ache. And then, finally—finally—his lips brushed over your clit, the first touch so delicate, so excruciatingly slow, that your whole body shuddered.

“Oh, god…” you whimpered, throwing your arms over your face as pleasure coursed through you like liquid fire.

Jiyong groaned in response, gripping your thighs tighter as he licked a slow, deliberate stripe over your dripping core. His tongue moved with purpose—soft, languid strokes at first, building into something more intense. He explored you like he had all the time in the world, savoring every moan, every breathless plea that fell from your lips.

Your body writhed beneath him as he worked you closer and closer to the edge, his tongue dipping inside you before sliding back up to that sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking, sucking, teasing in ways that made you tremble. The pleasure was overwhelming, your body tensing, ready to snap.

“Fuck, Ji… I’m gonna—” You gasped, hands clutching the silk sheets.

But just as your orgasm coiled in your stomach, he pulled away, leaving you breathless and aching, the loss so sudden it was nearly painful.

A whimper of protest left your lips, but Jiyong was already climbing back up your body, his lips ghosting over your skin, soothing you with each kiss. His hands fumbled with the zipper of his jeans as he kissed his way up your neck, over your cheek, finally capturing your lips in a heated, dizzying kiss.

“I want you,” he murmured between kisses, his voice husky, needy. “I want you to cum with me inside you.”

The words alone sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins.

He finally rid himself of his pants, and in that moment, both of you were fully bare, bodies pressed together, skin to skin. The heat of him, the weight of him, the way his body fit against yours—it was intoxicating. Overwhelming. Perfect.

Jiyong cupped your cheek, searching your gaze. “Is this okay, baby? Can I make love to you?” His voice was breathless, almost nervous.

“God, yes,” you whined, pulling him down into another kiss.

He smiled against your lips, then slowly—so agonizingly slow—he pushed inside of you, inch by inch. The stretch was delicious, a perfect blend of pleasure and pressure, and your eyes fluttered shut as you adjusted to his size. A low, guttural groan escaped Jiyong’s throat, his forehead dropping to yours.

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. The sight of you—lips parted, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide with pleasure—made his stomach tighten. But when he noticed the glassy shimmer in your eyes, his breath hitched.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, concern flickering across his face.

A soft, adoring smile graced your lips. “Yes… yes. I just—” You exhaled shakily. “I just love you.”

Jiyong’s heart clenched, and his expression softened into something breathtakingly tender. He pressed his lips to yours, slow and deep, before murmuring, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this…”

And then he moved.

His thrusts were slow, deliberate, filled with an aching kind of passion that sent pleasure rolling through your body in waves. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, gasping at the way he stretched you, filled you. The sensation was intoxicating—the friction, the heat, the way he fit inside you like he was made for you.

Your nails raked down his back, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer, deeper. His pace quickened, his breath ragged as he lost himself in you, in the way your body responded to his every move.

He looked down at you, his eyes dark with awe. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your lips. “Oh God, Y/n… You’re so beautiful. So pretty you could make the stars cry…” he whispered.

His words pushed you over the edge.

“Fuck, Ji—I love you, I love you!” you cried, your whole body trembling as pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave. A single, warm tear slid down your cheek as your release shattered through you.

Jiyong groaned, burying his face in your neck as he followed, his body tensing before he spilled inside you, his fingers lacing with yours as he held onto you through it all.

The moment stretched, warm and golden, neither of you wanting to move, to break the connection. He didn’t pull out right away, simply resting against you, his head on your shoulder, his hand still gripping yours. You felt whole. Complete. “I love you…” he whispered.

When he finally slipped out of you, he rolled to the side, still holding you close, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple. Both of you were a euphoric, breathless mess, your skin slick with sweat, hearts still hammering in unison.

Silence stretched between you, comfortable and warm.

Then, softly, Jiyong murmured, “Do you wanna take a shower? With me?” There was a slight nervousness in his voice, as if he wasn’t sure how to ask.

You smiled, running your fingers through his messy hair. “Yes.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, leading you toward the bathroom, you knew—this was only the beginning of something you’d been yearning for for years.

I don't have a taglist for GD yet so I'm just using my T.O.P/Thanos tag list. Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed! :)

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© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

[rik0shii]

Hihi!! May i request a g dragon x kpop idol reader ? (Maybe she is from the group 2ne1) and its like how they fall for eachother in shared concerts , award shows , interviews etc..

sorry if this is not specific enough ^^”

Lysm!!

Stolen Glances & Silent Love

(A G-Dragon x K-pop Idol!Reader Love Story – 2NE1 Era)

G-Dragon and the reader, a 2NE1 member, slowly fall for each other through shared performances, award shows, and quiet moments backstage. Their chemistry grows over time, leading to an unspoken but undeniable connection.

hii!! tysm for requesting! i hope this is to your liking,reposts and comments are appreciated!

part 2 is here

The first time you met G-Dragon, it was backstage at your debut stage.

BIGBANG had just finished performing, their energy still radiating in the waiting room, while you and your fellow 2NE1 members were mentally preparing for your first-ever live broadcast. The nerves had kicked in, but your leader, CL, had been hyping you up, telling you that everything would be fine.

Then, in the middle of that chaotic moment, a voice cut through.

“Nervous?”

You turned to see G-Dragon, leaning against the doorway, watching you with an amused but understanding gaze. You had admired him for years—who hadn’t? He was G-Dragon, the leader of BIGBANG, the genius behind some of K-pop’s biggest hits.

“A little,” you admitted, gripping your mic.

“Good,” he chuckled. “Means you care. Just don’t forget to have fun. YG picked you girls for a reason.”

He gave you a small nod before walking off, and as simple as it was, his words stuck with you.

That night, you performed like your life depended on it. And when you came off stage, the first person you made eye contact with was him. He was watching, smiling, and clapping.

That was the beginning.

Award Shows & Hidden Conversations

As 2NE1’s success skyrocketed, your interactions with G-Dragon became more frequent. YG Family was close, and between overlapping schedules, joint performances, and year-end award shows, you found yourself in his orbit often.

One of the most memorable moments happened at an MAMA Awards show.

2NE1 and BIGBANG were seated at the same table, and cameras frequently cut to your reactions throughout the night. You were mindful of your expressions, but whenever something funny happened on stage, you and Jiyong would instinctively glance at each other.

It was a game you two had—sharing silent conversations across the room.

When 2NE1 was announced as the Best Female Group, the entire YG table erupted in cheers, but your eyes sought out Jiyong’s first. He grinned at you, clapping enthusiastically, and as you walked past him to get to the stage, he leaned in ever so slightly and murmured,

“Told you you had that fire.”

You almost tripped in your heels.

Later that night, while waiting for the encore stage, you found yourself standing next to him backstage. The two of you watched as idols from different companies congratulated each other, some exchanging polite bows, others hugging excitedly.

“You should enjoy this more,” Jiyong suddenly said.

You tilted your head. “I am enjoying it.”

He smirked. “No, I mean… let yourself have fun. Don’t get so caught up in the pressure.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re G-Dragon. You own the stage.”

For a second, something shifted in his expression. He looked like he wanted to say something, but before he could, CL called for you, and just like that, the moment was gone.

But it lingered in your mind for a long time after.

Interviews & Subtle Flirting

The industry started noticing the way you and G-Dragon interacted.

During a variety show appearance, a segment about ideal types came up. One of the MCs jokingly asked,

“YG artists are close, right? Have you ever had a crush on someone from your company?”

Your members laughed and teased each other, but you only smiled and took a sip of water.

Then, the MC turned to Jiyong, who was also a guest on the show.

“How about you, GD? Anyone from YG catch your eye?”

The question was innocent, but the moment it was asked, you felt CL and Dara subtly glance at you. Trying to stay composed, you kept your expression neutral.

Jiyong smirked. “YG has a lot of talented people. Hard not to be impressed.”

The MCs weren’t satisfied. “Come on, give us a name!”

He tapped his chin playfully, pretending to think. Then, with a casual shrug, he said, “Well, I’ve always thought someone with… a strong stage presence and great energy is attractive.”

It was vague enough to be safe, but everyone at the table knew who he meant.

Your members giggled, nudging you, while you simply rolled your eyes and tried to focus on your drink. But the warmth on your cheeks betrayed you.

Shared Stages, Shared Feelings

Things escalated during a YG Family Concert.

For a special collaboration stage, you were paired with G-Dragon for a remix of one of his solo songs.

Rehearsals were fun—he was playful, always finding ways to make you laugh. He’d tease you about your dance moves, challenge you to freestyle battles, and even joke about how you were too serious about nailing the performance.

“If we mess up, just blame it on me,” he’d say. “I’m used to taking the heat.”

But when the real performance happened, the atmosphere changed.

There was something different in the way he looked at you under the stage lights, the way his hand lingered on your waist a second too long, the way your voices blended effortlessly.

Fans noticed. Your members noticed. Even YG himself raised an eyebrow.

And after the show, when you found yourselves alone in the hallway, catching your breath, Jiyong simply looked at you and smirked.

“That was fun.”

You exhaled, still processing everything. “Yeah… it was.”

He tilted his head. “You’re thinking too much again.”

You shot him a look. “You always say that.”

He shrugged, grinning. “Because it’s true.”

And just like that, he walked off, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding.

Late-Night Conversations & Quiet Confessions

The more time passed, the more stolen moments you two shared.

Late-night studio visits where he’d play you unreleased tracks and ask for your opinion. Messages exchanged between busy schedules. Inside jokes whispered during interviews.

One night, after a particularly long day of rehearsals, you found yourself on the YG rooftop, staring at the city skyline. The air was cool, and without thinking, he draped his jacket over your shoulders.

“You ever think about what comes after all this?” he asked.

You glanced at him. “Sometimes. But I don’t know if I want to imagine a future without music.”

He smiled, nodding. “Same. But lately… I think I’d want a future with someone who understands it, too.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe he wasn’t just talking about music anymore.

The Beginning of Something More

There was no dramatic confession. No grand gestures.

Just stolen glances, quiet conversations, and a slow realization that somewhere along the way, between concerts, award shows, and late-night talks, you had fallen for each other.

And maybe—just maybe—he had fallen first.

[saraaisfree]

gdragon fam are we well? (im not)

[moonzzip]

spill the tea | kwon jiyong

a/n – so, I wrote this during class, I couldn't pay attention, I was thinking too much about jiyong. I don't know if I'll do another part, it depends on your reaction, initially, I don't plan on doing pt.2, I'm enjoying doing a bit of angst so much, i don't understand... again, I just wrote what came to my head, the english is still kind of... bad, but I hope you like it!

everything has been lightly reviewed, please let me know of any grammar error/incorrect word!

summary: jiyong is anxious, very nervous about appearing on stage again in front of so many people, but you appear.

pairing: jiyong x gn!reader

warnings: a fair amount of self-deprecation, abusive work, mentions of anxiety, reader has confidence issues, angst, fluff

lowercase letters, word count: 1,1k (again)

spinning the rings on his fingers, jiyong’s palms sweat, and he unconsciously wipes them on his light pink pants. looking around absentmindedly, his thoughts race a mile a minute, and he exhales hurriedly.

hearing two soft knocks on the door, he looks at it, a bit confused.

“jiyong-nim?” you whisper, peeking in with only half of your face visible, your body still outside.

the man nods, giving you permission to enter. you smile softly and finally step inside.

“excuse me…” your voice is gentle, barely above a whisper, not wanting to be a bother. “since i know you like tea, i decided to make some and bring it to you.”

in your hand, you hold a metallic thermal bottle, and in the other, a small, delicate package of chocolate cookies you had baked just a few hours ago.

you can’t help but wonder how he must be feeling, returning to the stage after so many years. being part of his personal staff, you and the team always communicate with him directly.

well… not you. the others.

you never had the courage—nor the opportunity, really. not for lack of trying, but because of someone specific.

of course, the great g-dragon would have a highly qualified team of professionals. but you never felt like one of them, and that person made sure to remind you of your “proper place.” the moment jiyong turned his back, all of her frustrations were dumped onto you. maybe you were hired as a verbal punching bag for the “blessed being” without realizing it. it made you wonder if you had remembered to read the fine print.

she didn’t even bother to call you by your name—always using other names, but never yours.

of course, you had thought about reporting it, but someone as insignificant as you in this industry, compared to her—who is beloved and has more connections than you could count—who’s to say she wouldn’t send someone to get rid of you while you’re in the bathroom? you never know. you know they would never fire her. you losing your job would be much easier than any close employee of jiyong’s facing consequences.

you? a new hire? who gets stepped on by senior staff? reporting her and expecting her to be fired for abuse of power and verbal harassment—if that’s even considered a crime? never. only in your dreams.

you’ve always known that keeping quiet avoids unnecessary arguments, even if you constantly bite your tongue to hold back a sharp reply. you need this job to survive. the salary is too good, and you think you can endure a certain level of mistreatment. at the end of the day, you’re working for g-dragon.

kwon jiyong.

so, you put up with a little more.

you’ve always been someone who minds their own business, who hates being a burden, who puts effort and dedication into everything you do. that’s what got you here, and you won’t let nerves over trivial things get the best of you.

sometimes, you stop and wonder if it’s worth tolerating such ridiculous treatment. but then you remind yourself—you’re on your own. you handle things as best as you can with what you have.

just you and yourself.

you don’t remember having any true friendships you’d take with you for life. maybe some colleagues, but nothing like “i need a shoulder to lean on, can i talk to you?”

you don’t dwell on it. you don’t even seek that kind of connection anymore—you gave up long ago.

you care too much about what others think of you. you like leaving a good impression—being seen as reliable, always prepared, capable of doing whatever is asked of you.

but you also let people step on you—on your pride, almost on you, literally.

when did that become “okay”?

you have no idea. it feels like it’s always been this way. you’re invisible. never invited to anything. you watch others having fun, calling each other out for drinks, and you can’t even picture yourself in a situation like that.

honestly?

you silence your thoughts for now.

you hand him the tea and cookies, and he stands up, bowing politely, ever so charming. a small smile grace his beautiful face, bringing a subtle glow of admiration to your own, soon he sits down again.

“i tried making passion fruit tea with pomegranate… passion fruit helps with stress and mood, pomegranate helps with the throat in case of hoarseness or pain, and also—”

jiyong watches you ramble (your voice still soft and low, almost a whisper), his lips forming a small pout, eyes slightly wide, eyebrows subtly raised. one hand rests on his chin, legs crossed, elbow propped up.

for the first time since arriving here, he finds himself distracted, momentarily forgetting his nerves and anxiety.

thinking back, he realizes he has never interacted with you directly.

of course, he’s seen you around—always busy, whether carrying heavy boxes, taking notes from a distance, staying late to fix a loose button or sequin on his outfit, bringing drinks, coffee, and snacks for everyone (never personally handing them to him), and countless other tasks that he’s almost certain aren’t your responsibility.

he’s never seen you with anyone. a friend, or something like that.

not that he had noticed before.

but, you know, when people are close, it’s something you can feel.

jiyong’s thoughts (just like your rambling) are abruptly interrupted by the loud, sudden swing of the dressing room door.

both of your heads snap toward the sound.

“jiyo-ssi!! you’re up next, it’s packed today, hurry up!”

ah, it’s her. the very person who used you as her personal punching bag.

without so much as a polite greeting, she shoves you aside and grabs jiyong’s arm.

still surprised, he simply looks ahead as he’s dragged away in a rush.

you just stare down at your hands, now clasped together in front of you, until—

“___?”

startled, you look up—and see g-d smiling at you.

in your eyes, he glows.

“thank you so much. i feel a lot better now.”

his voice, deep yet gentle, carries the words, and suddenly, the world seems more colorful as you both look directly at each other.

have you ever noticed how beautiful his eyes are?

and then, the door closes.

you stay there, frozen, until your legs weaken, and you crouch down, placing a hand over your racing heart, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“…but you didn’t even drink the tea…” you murmur, embarrassed.

a/n – thanks for the positive reactions on 'thinkin' bout you'! I'm glad you liked it, it just makes me want to write more. this time I heard JK's 'still with you', it brought up a lot of feelings and I ended up pouring it all out in the reader's self-deprecating parts. Sorry not sorry. sorry again for my english, feel free to correct me kindly!