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ttturnitup · 3 hours ago

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I'll Be Your Umbrella | Kang Dae-sung

BIGBANG APRIL CHALLENGE - APRIL 21ST

Summary: You get caught in the rain on your way home, so your roommate decides to do something nice for you. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: fluff, making out, spice but no actual smut. Author's Note: Here's Day 21's challenge fic! I wasn't originally going to write for this prompt but the inspo struct and here we are. I hope you enjoy.

Work had gone on for much longer than you’d expected. You’d only planned to go into the office for a couple hours that morning and spend the rest of the day shopping with your friends, but when the rain had started to pour you’d decided to stay in the office the entire day, not wanting to go back out in the rain. You’d of course walked to the office that day, your apartment not being far but you hadn’t been prepared for the rain. With a sigh, you clicked your laptop shut and put it into your bag. You could finish the work at home, you needed to get out of here while the rain had subsided for a minute.

The air was chilly as you walked down the street, and just as your luck had it - the rain picked up two blocks from your apartment. You groaned, picking up your steps and practically running the two blocks home. You swung the apartment door open and placed your bag inside as you slid out of your shoes. The smell of your favorite dinner filled the apartment and you raised a brow as you came face to face with your roommate.

“Hi.” Daesung waved in greeting as he made his way towards the kitchen, you followed behind him.

“What’s all this?” Your hands ran up and down your arms for warmth as you stood in the kitchen.

“Figured you’d be hungry and it’s cold out so I thought I’d make noodles.” He turned to you, a lopsided grin on his face. Your stomach flipped in your chest at how adorable he was.

“You didn’t have to do all that.” You smiled at him as you grabbed a bowl, you stomach growling in response.

The two of you made your way to the living room, sitting closely on the couch as you slurped your noodles in silence. You shivered as you sat your bowl down, the warmth from the food only lasting seconds. Damn rain was going to end up getting you sick. You excused yourself, heading to your room to change into PJs, and grabbing the blanket off your bed before you made your way back to the living room.

Daesung had moved back to the kitchen, cleaning up dinner. He’d lit a candle in the living room and if you didn’t know any better you’d think you were on a date with your roommate. You knew that couldn’t be further from the truth, you were just friends. Daesung wasn’t into you and you were fine hiding your feelings from him for as long as you could. You just had a silly crush on him. As you moved to sit down you spotted his discarded hoodie and threw the blanket down, sliding the hoodie over your head.

“Want to watch a movie?” You yelled as you made yourself comfortable on the couch, the blanket wrapping around you tightly.

“Yeah, whatever you want.” Daesung called back from the kitchen.

You didn’t know how much longer he’d be so you took it upon yourself to find the perfect movie. A romcom, something nice for you and something your roommate would probably hate. He had said whatever you wanted though. You pulled the movie up and hit pause as you waited for him to finish in the kitchen. A few minutes later he returned, two glasses of wine in his hand. You raised a brow as he sat them down and patted the spot next to you on the couch.

“I don’t get any blanket?” He teased as he sat down.

You opened the blanket up, revealing your clothing choice underneath and Daesung’s heart stopped. He liked the way you looked in his clothes. The hoodie was almost comically too big on you but to him you looked gorgeous. He blinked and scooted closer to you, pulling the blanket up over him, hoping you hadn’t caught him staring. You scooted in closer to him, wanting his body heat to keep you warm as you started up the movie.

Daesung wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his side as he moved to lean back on the couch. Your heart thumped so loudly in your chest at how close you were, you wondered if he could hear it. You took a couple deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves as you wiggled closer to him, trying to get comfortable.

“Thank you for dinner. You really didn’t have to do that.” Daesung shrugged, a small smile falling on his lips.

“Felt like you deserved a home cooked meal, you’ve been working so hard lately.”

The same could be said about your roommate, you couldn’t remember the last time he’d been home for a week straight. It was nice having him around more, but him being here stirred up feelings you’d thought were gone until he’d grinned at you when you’d walked in the door. It just felt so natural, coming home soaked to the bone from a long day at the office, dinner waiting for you in the kitchen, you could get lost in nights like this. Nights with him. But it was all pretend, he was your roommate and your friend, nothing more.

“So have you. Now I have to do something nice for you.”

“This is more than enough.” His words made your heart race.

You shivered and snuggled in closer to him, his arm wrapping tightly around you as he pulled you both so that you were laying down. Your body half resting on him, half resting on the couch as you turned your attention to the movie. His arm traced lazy circles on your arm, his eyes on you as you watched the movie.

“I like you in my clothes.” You stiffened and he stilled underneath you, eyes widening. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“I like me in them too.” You both relaxed as you spoke.

Daesung brought his free hand up to cup your face as he lowered his head towards yours. His eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes, asking for silent permission. You nodded your head and his lips came crashing down on yours. Your mouth moved with his, months of pent up feelings pouring out into the kiss.

You moved ever so slightly to straddle his lap as Daesung’s tongue darted out, licking your lip, begging for entrance. Your lips parted and his tongue met yours in a battle of dominance as his hands moved to rest on your hips, holding you steady. His fingers toyed with the edge of your hoodie before he slid his hand up fully, resting his hand on your back. Your hips rocked against him and he moaned into your mouth. You could feel him getting hard beneath you.

His hand moved back to the end of the hoodie, tugging it up. You broke the kiss to get it off the rest of the way before your lips were back on his. Your hips rocked into his again and his hips met yours, his hands moved down to your ass and gave it a gentle squeeze as you moved against him, enjoying the friction despite the fabric between you.

“Maybe we should move this to the bedroom.” Daesung whispered against your lips and you nodded your head.

Daesung moved to sit up, his hand staying on your ass as your arms wound around his neck. He shifted his weight, his lips never leaving yours as he stood up, your legs wrapping around him. He carried you to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. The movie you’d started completely forgotten in the other room. You could get used to more cozy nights at home like this.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @loveesiren @gdinthehouseee @tulentiy @petersasteria @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @mirahyun @breakmeoff @1950schick @sherrayyyyy @flymetothexmoon

Writing challenge taglist: @bluesunss @berfgrimm @emmiesoverthemoon @sevendaysummer @currentloser @makeitworse @aizshallnotbefound @sherxoo @keiraryan @steponupbabe

#reblogged #rec #kang daesung x rec #AHHH SO GOOD SO CUTEEEE <33 #the hoodie #the cuddling on the couch #the end 👀#yessssss #marissa never misses <33

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ttturnitup · 6 hours ago

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a piece of your heart | kang daesung x reader

summary: distractions happen, but a shared hobby brings you closer together

word count: approx 5.6k

warnings: none, just some fluff!

author's note: this was written for day 18 of the april bigbang challenge - bonding over a shared hobby! i'm sorry for posting late, i just couldn't seem to get my stuff organised, and im sorry about the end (i really had trouble this time round) but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!

The morning sun filtered through the windows, warming you as you stood watching the door. You didn’t have to, of course - it’s not like you had x-ray vision that would let you see the postman before he knocked on the door. Seeing that the tracking information had changed overnight had gotten you excited, however, and you wanted to get your hands on the package as soon as possible. Impatient? Definitely, but you had never claimed to be anything else.

You were so focused on the door that the knocking startled you. You barely held back from making an embarrassing noise, moving quickly to answer the door, your excitement giving you an extra bounce in your step. You smiled warmly as you greeted your regular postman.

“Morning, Steve. Good route so far?”

“I get to see your beautiful face, so I can’t complain, can I?”

“Your husband know you’re flirting with me?”

Steve laughed, holding out the PDA for you to sign. You scribble the signature and swap the device over for the your package. Your smile grows wider as you hear the familiar rattle. You were tempted to shut the door without saying goodbye, but even your impatience had limits. You had the whole day ahead of you, anyway; a couple more moments wouldn’t do harm. Your expression gave something away, however, Steve laughing as he tucked away the PDA and adjusted his postal bag.

“I won’t keep you long today, Y/n. You look like you’re about to vibrate out of your skin. Gotta ask though, is it meant to sound like that?”

“That is the sound of happiness. It absolutely should sound like that.”

Steve simply laughed again, raising a hand in farewell. You waved back, watching for only a moment before dashing back inside, already pulling at the wrapping of the box. You paused once the door had closed behind you. The dining table would be the better option, but your eyes kept being drawn to the living room. Nostalgic memories came to the forefront: blanket forts, pieces strewn across the floor, the quiet drone of whatever show your parents were watching as you built whatever your imagination could conjure.

The decision was an easy one. You already were going to spend the day playing with Lego, so why not give into the childlike whimsy? Your back might not thank you tomorrow, but that was an issue for future you.

You hadn’t thought about Lego in years. You loved it as a kid, but as you grew up and life got busier, it fell to the wayside like things often did. It wasn’t until a co-worker gifted you a set for your birthday that you got back into it. Putting together the orchids piece by piece had brought you a sense of peace and happiness you hadn’t felt in a long time. You picked up more sets over time, keeping them aside for a day off or when you needed to disconnect from the world. But the package in your hands was different; you’d been wanting - needing - to create, but you were feeling restricted by the designs and the limited pieces. The opened package in your hands was the answer.

A giant box of classic pieces, with every colour and weird shape piece you could dream of. You dug your hand through the box, enjoying the sound of the pieces cascading like a clunky, plastic waterfall. You weren’t exaggerating before; the sound of the bricks against each other might have been loud, but it was pure happiness.

You start building. Simple things at first, little houses and structures and the like, but as the day went one, your creations got increasing complex and bizarre. Abnormally large towers with weird turrets, recreations of fairytale monsters, an attempt at a car with wings, a misshapen heart - nothing was off limits. It was freeing to just pick up the pieces and stack them together, seeing what idea you would gravitate towards next.

————————————————————————————————-

The morning turned into the afternoon, and the afternoon quickly gave way to early evening. You didn’t noice at first, but once you had, reality came back to you quickly. You’d barely moved all day outside of bathroom breaks and a light snack, too engrossed in your joy. You had no regrets. You stretched, working out the pins and needles from sitting on the ground for hours, and moved towards the light switch. You flipped it on, intending on making dinner and being a responsible adult for a little bit.

A knock on the door interrupts you.

You weren’t expecting anyone, especially not at this time of the day. Curious and cautious, you made your way to the door, looking through the peep hole. When you saw who it was, you swore loudly, causing the man on the other side to call out.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Hi! Give me a moment, Daesung!”

Daesung was at your door. Daesung was waiting politely to take you on a date. A date you had completely forgotten about. You looked down at yourself - not dressed up for a date, but that could easily be fixed. The same couldn’t be said for the very visible living room.

Fuck.

You close your eyes, taking a moment to calm down. There was no need to work yourself up. Daesung had been nothing but a sweetheart since the day you met; if he was rude or mean about the scattered pieces, it was better to know now before the relationship progressed. It wasn’t a dealbreaker by any means, but you guessed it would serve as a decent litmus test.

You opened the door, and you were met with a bright smile, one that lit up Daesung’s face.

“Daesung, hi. I’m so sorry, I completely spaced out. But if you come in, I’ll be ready in a few minutes?”

You stepped aside, an invitation for Daesung. He took it, the smile never dropping.

“It’s all good! The reservations not for a little bit anyway, so we still have time.” He paused, turning back to face you. “It’s nice to see you, Y/n.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and your heart rate picked up. It was a simple statement - nothing more than small talk, really - but Daesung said it with such sincerity that it made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Instead of being overwhelming like it had in the past, Daesung’s attention made you feel warm. Safe.

“Sorry about the mess. I’ll be right back, but feel free to make yourself comfortable!”

Daesung nodded in affirmation, his eyes drifting around your apartment. You saw him linger on the Lego, and you tried to quell the anxiety. It probably meant nothing. Just looking. You couldn’t stay to watch him, though, to analyse his reactions. You didn’t want to keep him waiting for longer than he already had.

Fifteen minutes later, and you had changed into more appropriate attire. The outfit clung to your body, showing it off, but it was still classy enough for the restaurant. You checked yourself out in the mirror; you looked good. Satisfied, you made your way back out to the living room. Daesung didn’t notice you, so you gave into the earlier desire to watch him.

He picked up your creations, careful and reverent. He inspected them, turning them over, interacting with any moving part he came across. The earlier panic dissipated. It was clear that Daesung wasn’t going to mock you for your hobby, not that you thought he would; you’d just had too many people look down on you in the past for interests that they thought were childish, and you now you always expected the worst.

“Those are why I wasn’t ready.”

At the sound of your voice, he looked up, a startled expression on his face.

“Oh, Y/n! I didn’t hear you….”

His sentence trailed off as he noticed what you were wearing. His eyes looked you over, a hungry gaze in them, and you felt yourself blush again.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes! Uh, yes. Y/n, you look…. wow.”

You stepped closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I meant my creations,” you teased, the opportunity too good to pass up, “but thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

Silence stretched between you. Moments passed, and the longer it went on, the more you worried that you had gone too far. You took a step back, ready to apologise, when you heard Daesung make a noise. Not just any noise, though, but a giggle. It was soft at first, but it didn’t take long before it was loud, filling the room with warmth. Your lips curl up in a smile, your own laughter joining his. It wasn’t that funny of a joke, but Daesung’s joy was infectious.

“I think they’re great, Y/n,” he said, once the laughter had died away. He picked up the heart shape, inspecting it once more before holding it up to you, showing it off like it was some precious treasure.

“I think I like this one the best.”

Your real heart started to beat faster. You wouldn’t say that Daesung was in your mind when you had been making it, but that would make you a liar. You had been thinking about your first date, about how well he treated you; you thought about how you could see a future with him, despite only knowing him for a short time. That vision was stronger now, seeing him surrounded by Lego, surrounded by pieces of plastic that represented who you were.

You had always tried to believe in the philosophy that your heart knew best. It had led you astray before, and it had hurt, leaving you wary. Cautious. But seeing Daesung literally hold your heart in his hands, with such tenderness and care? It was easy to believe in that philosophy seeing the proof of it.

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I think I like that one best, too. Still, I’m sorry for being late.”

Daesung shook his head, smiling wide.

“It happens to me all the time!”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah! I love Lego. It’s one of my favourite things to do on days off! It gives me a good chance to rest and - ”

“Recharge,” you finished off Daesung’s sentence. The excitement was hard to keep out of your voice, and you could see it reflected in his expression.

“Exactly! Would you like to see the last thing I built?”

Daesung pulled out his phone, and scrolled through his album to show off his latest Lego masterpiece. You responded with enthusiasm, asking him about the finer details of it, and he explained, showing different photos to highlight his talking points. You talked about your desire to just build without instructions, and Daesung admitted that he hadn’t done that in a long time, but maybe he should do it sometime soon. It was easy to get caught up in the back and forth of the conversation; you’d never really known anyone who understood this hobby of yours, at least not in real life.

The conversation would have continued for linger, if you weren't interrupted by your stomach growling. There’s more laughter as you glance over at the clock.

“Hey, Daesung, what time was the reservation?”

The tone of your voice made it clear immediately that regardless of what Daesung said, you were late. Very late. Time had gotten away from you - again. Daesung looked over at the clock, too, as if to confirm what he already knew. He let out a said little sigh, and you knew that you would do anything to make sure that never happened again, tonight or in the future.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just the Lego effect, right?”

That got you a little laugh, but it wasn’t enough. You could guess that he felt bad about your date not being, well, a date. But you had already had a good time tonight and you weren’t quite ready to say goodbye yet.

“Okay, sure, maybe the original date fell through. But you could stay, and we could order food? I just like spending time with you.”

Daesung’s eyes lit up immediately, any lingering sadness disappearing in an instant. He smiled wide, pulling you close. This time, he was the one pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I like spending time with you too, Y/n. Maybe… maybe we could spend that time building something together?”

You both looked over at the Lego before meeting each other’s gaze. You smiled wide, seeing it reflected back on Daesung’s face.

“It’s a date.”

—————————————————————————————————

Neither of you noticed when the sun came up a few hours later, too busy sharing pieces - and kisses.

challenge taglist; @wcnderlnds, @ldydeath, @loveesiren, @bluesunss, @emmiesoverthemoon, @eru-vande, @berfgrimm, @gdinthehouseee, @infinetlyforgotten, @petersasteria, @currentloser, @makeitworse, @sherxoo, @aizshallnotbefound @breakmeoff ♥

#orig. fic #kang daesung x reader #kang daesung x reader fic #kang daesung #bigbangaprilchallenge #d-lite x reader #d-lite x reader fic #daesung x reader

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ttturnitup · 10 hours ago

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i wish i hated you - Daesung/D-Lite

Pairing: daesung x idol!reader Summary: mutual breakups suck.

☆*: .｡. eternal sunshine masterlist .｡.:*☆

"I wish I hated you. I wish that weren't true. Wish there was worse to you. Wish you were worse to me."

You didn't know what happened. Both of you just knew one day when you looked at each other that it was over. It was calm and solemn. It was a mutual understanding, yet it was extremely sad. It was like staring at a stranger who you swore was familiar. Your personal goals never aligned anymore and you guessed it had been like that for a long time and both of you were just in denial. Maybe that's why you and Daesung tried so hard to that point that it felt unnatural.

It was a silent mutual breakup. Neither of your peers and family knew about it. Both of you moved out of your shared apartment, not wanting to stay at a place that was domestic to both of you. It was time for a new chapter.

You grabbed your last box and Daesung grabbed his. Both of you looked around your once shared home and he sighed happily.

"Thank you for the memories, Y/N. It's been a pleasure to have known you the way I did." Daesung smiled in content.

"Thank you for everything, Dae." You sighed. "I guess that's it for our chapter, but I'm happy it was you."

"I'm happy it was you too." He said as he looked at you. "I have nothing but good things to say about you and if people start rumors about me bad mouthing you, please know that I never said those things and that I'm always one call away."

"Me too, Dae. Me too." You said and gave him a side hug.

"I think I'm worth more than a side hug, Y/N." He chuckled lightly. He put down his box and as did you. He pulled you in for a tight hug, swaying both of you side by side. "I'm still grateful our paths have crossed. It's one thing I will never regret." Daesung mumbled as he pulled away to look at you, already crying.

"Hey, don't cry. I don't want you to be sad." He chuckled lightly, wiping your tears away.

"I wish I hated you so this thing's easier." You joked.

"You could never hate me, Y/N." Daesung laughed.

"That's true." You smiled, sniffing. You both grabbed your boxes and walked out the apartment, ready to go your separate ways.

When you reached your cars, you looked at him and he was already looking at you.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I won't."

You smiled at each other before leaving.

permanent taglist: @redhoodedtoad @billiesiousji @hayd3n8 @sherrayyyyy @nbjch05 @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @emmiesoverthemoon @breakmeoff @sayugarper @gdinthehouseee

daesung taglist: @tabibabib

eternal sunshine taglist: @sevendaysummer @sherxoo @whotfiscamellia @multifanxtvshows @patheticgirl127 @amyyforshort @sylviavf @steponupbabe @galgal-egg

#reblogged #rec #kang daesung x rec #MUTUAL BREAKUP BUT IT STILL HURTSSSS S #another excellent fic

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ttturnitup · 14 hours ago

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Hi babes ! Im so so happy for you <3 congrats on 1.5k :} may i req a

“you gonna be a good girl / boy for me?”

With boyfriend jiyong?

Thank you so much babes!!

Vali's 1500 Celebration (CLOSED)

warnings: daddy kink

#reblogged #rec #kwon jiyong x rec #nsfw #hell fucking yeah

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ttturnitup · 15 hours ago

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IN MY RESTLESS DREAMS

you’re reminiscent of her— too much for him to just let you go.

contains: dark themes. f!reader x inho. pregnancy (reader replaces junhee). age gap (reader 20, inho late 40s). obsession. freudian bc it’s by me. taboo relationship. light smut. 18+

the instant his eyes fell to your stomach, in-ho’s vision blared with red.

such a young girl— you appeared barely more than just a child yourself. even beneath the baggy tracksuit there was a visible bump of your belly. that tiny sign of life, it changes everything.

who the fuck let you in?

thoughts sunk talons into his brain— jagged and furious. his fingers twitched at his sides, tempted to grab the closest guard’s radio and have you pulled from the island.

if in-ho had of known, he would’ve had the recruiter’s head mounted on his office wall. that sadistic fuck— approaching a young expecting mother.

it defiled the principles behind the games.

in-ho glanced at the fellow men of the team hovering over you— the two marines: gi-hun’s friend and his ponytailed lackey. they were here to pay off debts caused by their own stupid, selfish choices. that wasn’t you. it couldn’t be.

his chest tightens, a fragmented memory of his late wife wafting through his mind. how she was determined to go through the surgery knowing she was pregnant. just as you were here, putting you and your baby’s life on the line, aware of the risks.

it left a rotten taste on his tongue. you weren’t trash— not like the other players. you were just a young (albeit naive) girl who presumably joined the games to support her child.

it was admirable, taking up the promise for money from a dodgy man in a suit for the good of your baby. he respected your courage— but he can’t feel anything other than dread for this next game. how were you meant to fair in the pentathlon with such a hindrance?

in-ho watched you talk amongst the team. they were curious, prying about the details of why you were here in such a state.

you remained nonchalant. you’re speaking about your pregnancy like it barely inconvenienced you— you just happen to be more hungry and less nimble than the other players.

you reminded him of his wife’s spirit. hell, even your features and your demeanour distantly resembled her. you could be her twin.

“you’re very brave, coming here.” in-ho’s voice cut through the others.

you give him a small smile, which he returns thoughtlessly.

the announcement of time up rings out through the room, and each team of five is directed to sit in rows.

player 388 was practically hanging off of you. there was a feeling simmering under in-ho’s skin— jealousy wasn’t quite the name for it. he just knew you should be talking to him in place of the boy. you hadn’t smiled at him like you did for in-ho.

of course, 388 made a (pathetic) attempt to sit next to you. in-ho lightly pushed him with his hand, stepping in front.

“you don’t mind if i sit here, do you?”

388 looked like a deer in headlights. in-ho had tried to keep his voice even, but there was a palpable shift in his energy. something dark. something unlike the player 001 they’ve come to know.

wordlessly, he steps aside with a meek nod. in-ho steals the spot next to you as all the players sit and listen to the instructions.

as the games are being explained, in in-ho’s peripheral he catches 388 craning his head to stare at you past him. as if in-ho’s not even there.

he claimed the seat next to you for a reason. in-ho glances at 388 with a still, yet intense, gaze— though he can’t contain how his lip twitches.

388 crumbles under the weight of in-ho’s stare, quietly leaning back in his spot.

that’s what i thought.

the first teams are called to the tracks. as their ankles are being shackled, in-ho turns to you, leaning in closer than he should. he angles his back to shield you from 388’s prying eyes.

“what was your name?” he keeps his voice low.

your brow quirks as you reveal your name. you pronounce it like it’s a question.

in-ho chuckles at that, trying out the sound of your name on his tongue. despite yourself, you smile with him.

“aren’t you a little young to talk to strange men in the subway?”

“old enough, since i’m talking to another one.” his expression, the faux warmth, drops ever so slightly. you just snicker at his reaction. “i’m twenty.”

in-ho exhales, recollecting himself. a pregnant twenty year old, condemned to this island and these games under his watch. he curses under his breath.

“what?”

“ah, it’s just..” his gaze falls to your stomach again. instinctively, you place a comforting hand over it.

“i can take care of myself.” you assert.

he nods, his mouth curving into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “i have no doubt.”

the crack of a gunshot to signal the game beginning makes both of your heads turn— as does in-ho’s stomach.

you’ll have to participate in this state. you’re carrying your baby with you.

rumination swirls in in-ho’s mind as he stares at you, watching the players in the pentathlon.

since taking up the mantle of frontman, in-ho had locked his grief in a box and kept them out of reach on the top shelf of his brain. and now here you were, embodying the soul of his late wife— knocking the box off the shelf and spilling its contents all over the floor.

you’ve got that same stubborn glint in your eyes, that same curve of your belly with life blooming inside. it wasn’t a mere coincidence that you approached in-ho and his group. and perhaps neither was the recruiter inviting you to the games.

this was fate. a second chance. in-ho would save what he couldn’t back then. you’d be the wife and child he’d succeed in protecting.

he’ll make sure of it.

“how far along are you?” in-ho murmurs.

you turn your attention to him, away from the game. the time was almost up for the players. he didn’t want you to witness the incoming bloodshed.

“seven months soon.” you whisper back.

in-ho reaches for you, and when you don’t budge, he rubs your arm reassuringly. you trade smiles. to you it’s an act of warmth. but in embracing in-ho’s touch, you’ve just let him mark you as his. you’ll come to understand that.

he needs to make certain of it. so, though he shouldn’t pry, he asks: “and the father?”

your smile fades. you shake your head, and your eyes falter to the ground, searching for comfort away from his. in-ho squeezes your shoulder— and he notices the slightest flinch from you.

“it’s okay.” you meet his gaze again, and he musters the kindest smile he can manage. he can’t recall the last time it could come to him naturally. “you’ve got me now.”

at that, your eyes light up. a glimmer of hope.

staring back into his, he can’t imagine there’d be little more than void for you to find.

you jolt at the sound of rapid gunfire. time had run out for the contestants. as if on instinct, you’re curling into in-ho’s chest, and he’s leaning forward to catch you in an embrace.

you shudder against him as he holds you through the noise of the slaughter. in-ho places a hand on your scalp, shushing you as he gently strokes your hair.

he dismisses the heads turning in your direction, particularly of the pony-tailed boy sitting next to him.

let it be known that you’re his. of course, you just hadn’t been told yet. but you’ll learn.

you weren’t scum. you weren’t a leech with bottomless greed. not like the others, those that the games were designed to cull. you didn’t belong here.

but now, you belonged to him. you were redemption. and he would redeem his shortcomings of his past with you— by any means necessary.

and this time around, he wouldn’t simply love you. he wouldn’t just hope for the best. hope is what got people killed.

no, he’d own it. control it. lock it down so tight no one can take it from him. you.

you push yourself from him, keeping your gaze from meeting his. he caught how your eyes were glossy.

“we’ll get you out of here.” he says, and he means it. “i’ll make sure of it.”

and he can. you may hate him for what he’ll have to do to keep his word. but you’ll be safe.

in-ho offers his open palm to you. and, like a silent agreement to his promise, you take it.

you will live. your baby will live.

our baby.

your team scraped by with a win. no thanks to in-ho, who’d been intentionally flunking his turn at spinning top.

he would’ve watched the others be shot dead with a grin, particularly 388— who he could’ve sworn was fucking holding your hand during the pentathlon.

you didn’t need his help. you didn’t need anyone that wasn’t in-ho.

after the game’s conclusion, the players sat around in groups, conversing while waiting for the next vote.

your team learned each other’s names. you softly repeated his once he stated it: young-il. it’s sweet, and it’ll be even sweeter when he hears his real name from your lips.

you go to stand, excusing yourself to the bathroom. before 388 (or dae-ho, as he’s learned) can get a word out, in-ho’s already offering to walk you there.

“thank you,” you mumble, in-ho at your side as you cross the room of bunks. the other players stares weighed heavy. “the bathroom guard makes me so uncomfortable. sometimes i’d rather have just wet the bed.”

in-ho chuckles from his chest. “really? well, i could tell him off.”

you scoff. you laugh it off together— as if he’s not serious.

he’d order them to put their gun to their head and pull the trigger if that’s what you so wished. anything for the mother of his kid.

in-ho waited in the corridor for you, giving you a reassuring smile as you disappeared into the ladies bathroom. he turned his gaze to the guard, hardening his face.

the guard returned an almost imperceptible nod. the message was clear.

in-ho’s head tilts at the sound of an approaching voice. as they get closer around wall, he recognises it as player 124: the one he ruffed up in front of everyone, alongside that purple-haired loudmouth.

“haven’t you seen how she walks? that old bastard must be having fun with her—”

in-ho’s stare was cold as they encountered him, stopping in their tracks.

player 124 exposes himself by stumbling over his words, grabbing at his dyed-haired friend’s sleeve for support.

in-ho moves to come off leaning the wall, and then 124 cracks.

“i’m sorry, sir. it was just a joke.” he takes a measly step back. “i’m sorry for speaking about your daughter like that.”

230 nods along, albeit his mind was clearly in a different place.

they’re idiot junkies who’ll probably kill each other in the special games. in-ho just needs to keep an eye on you until then, if they try anything. in that case he’ll kill them with his own hands.

your face appears on the other side of the ladies door as it swings open. in-ho turns his stare away from the men standing in front of him, and they usher into the male bathroom.

“did they want a round 2?” you quip.

in-ho shakes his head. he gives a low chuckle, but there’s no humour in it.

the tide of the vote had turned to the O’s once again. as gi-hun placed the last, fruitless vote— in-ho glanced at you, watching as you placed a hand over your stomach. this time wasn’t in comfort, but dread. you had to go through another game while carrying a child. his child.

in-ho stayed by your side. you even let him place a comforting hand on your knee, and his thumb drew soft circles over the fabric of your pants.

he’ll make it up to you for having to endure this under his watch. soon, you’ll be elsewhere— some place safer and sunnier. the three of you.

as there’s calls for lights out, in-ho takes his chance. he gets your attention by saying your name softly.

“would you be comfortable sharing my bed? i’d sleep easier, knowing you’re safe.”

your mouth parts slightly as you listened. it was forward, but he harboured no ill intent. you could tell that much. the corner of your lip curved with a smirk.

“i’m not too young to share a strange man’s bed?”

in-ho’s face twitches. he bites his tongue until he tastes copper.

clearly, you already have.

he composes himself with a smile. it wasn’t your fault. and with in-ho, you won’t feel hurt like that again.

the bed was barely wide enough for one person, let alone two. the thin mattress wasn’t any more comfortable than stone.

it wasn’t enough for you. nothing in this place is. but in-ho reminds himself that he’ll make it all up to you— in the meantime, it was enough to sleep under the same covers as him. breathe the same air.

in the dark, he watched your silhouette. your hair spilling over the pillow, the curve of your hip under the sheet. the rise and fall of your belly with each breath.

you shifted in your spot, letting out a soft exhale as you rolled over to face in-ho. the glow of the ceiling piggy bank illuminated your face. your eyes flutter open, brows crinkling when you notice he’s already looking at you.

“you’re still awake.” you whisper.

he didn’t answer. just nodded, eyes trained on your mouth. your lips were red raw, bitten from anxiety. he wanted to soothe them. he wanted to do a lot of things.

you scooted closer. “i don’t think i can sleep.”

what little distance there was between your bodies before, was now nonexistent. your arms, cradled against your chest, pressed against in-ho’s shirt. your knee bumped his. and your face— you were a mere breath away.

before he can think it, in-ho’s hand reaches for your waist. warm. possessive.

“you’re safe now,” he tells you quietly. “nothing will touch you while i’m here.”

your hand finds his chest, resting lightly over his shirt. “even if it’s you?”

in-ho’s mouth twitches. thoughtlessly, his fingers dig further into your waist. “i don’t count.”

you answer wordlessly, tilting your chin up to align with his face. your fingers curl at his chest, and your lips part ever so slightly. tentative— inviting.

then his mouth is on yours.

it was soft at first. just a question, not a demand. but when you pressed your body against him, something snapped.

the level-headed young-il act slipped off. in-ho kissed you like a crazed man. like he’d been starving, and you’re his only saving grace.

you mewl into his mouth, and he slides his hand under your shirt in kind— warm against your stomach, palm ghosting the swell of your belly before drifting upward.

he swallowed your breath, teasing his tongue against yours. he grinded his hips once— slow, hard.

you met it with impatience. clutching the fabric of his shirt, pressing yourself against his arousal with a soft whimper into his mouth. in-ho responded with a groan.

you repeat the action, kissing him needily as you rock against him— before in-ho pulls back, breathing hoarsely.

“no, not yet.”

you stare at him, left wanting. in-ho kisses your temple.

“another night.” he promises, dragging the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. you try to close your lips around it, but he retracts his hand with a hiss. “so impatient.”

in-ho pulls you against his chest, arms embracing you. you don’t fight it.

“sleep now. i’ve got you.”

even if you’d rather die playing these games, your fate belongs to him now.

and once this show was over— when the last body hit the floor and the last mask was hung up, he’ll quietly take you to his quarters. somewhere he can make certain you’re safe, somewhere no one knew your name but him.

you might hate him for it. maybe you’ll scream and cry and thrash about. but he was the father that stayed, protected you and your child.

and that makes you his— whether you like it or not.

note: this idea hasn’t left me alone so here it is expanded. also, it’d be wrong not to credit @murderofravens for inspiring me to even write for inho. go check her work out! (while writing this, i also learned of a s3 theory that junhee will give birth during the games and then inho steals her baby so.. there’s that.)

tags: @lightinbug @sherrayyyyy @ferrarifinnick @namsgyu @riddlerloveb0t @loveesiren @ttturnitup @avsarchivez

#reblogged #rec #hwang inho x rec #nsfw #YEAH LETS GO!!!#honestly love this wm

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ttturnitup · 18 hours ago

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yes, and? - G Dragon/Kwon Jiyong

Pairing: sibling!jiyong x sibling!reader (both idols) Summary: your older brother is your hero

☆*: .｡. eternal sunshine masterlist .｡.:*☆

"My face is sitting, I don't need no disguise (I don't need no disguise). Don't comment on my body, do not reply. Your business is yours, and mine is mine. Why do you care so much whose dick I ride? Why?"

Ever since you debuted with your group, DAWN, Jiyong made sure everyone knew how proud he was of you. He'd actively post stories using your songs to get the hype it deserves, he'd post pictures of you on his Instagram, and he'd even mention you a lot in interviews.

But of course, being THE G-Dragon's little sister isn't all sunshine and rainbows. There was a lot of scrutiny when you debuted, and you mostly blamed yourself for all the negative attention DAWN received. No one blamed you, but you felt responsible for it. You never told Jiyong, but he knew what was happening. He was your brother, after all.

He made a secret account that no one knew about and joined a Discord server, a DAWN subreddit, DAWN Tumblr communities, Facebook groups, Twitter group chats, etc. Everyone seemed to hate you all because everyone thought your talents weren't up to par with Jiyong.

Jiyong watched you grow into a woman you weren't meant to be. He always saw you as outgoing and growing into your features and talent. But because of the hate, you just became... hollow. It saddened him deeply. He saw the spark in your eyes vanish as years pass and he noticed how you're more quiet compared to when you debuted.

It wasn't until he read the comments on your Instagram pictures that he finally threw a fit in front of his best friends.

"Get a load of this bullshit: y/n pls get plastic surgery bc there's something wrong with your face. How could someone say that?!" Jiyong exclaimed angrily, continuing to scroll down.

"Jiyong, don't make yourself angry by reading those." Seunghyun warns him. "You're not getting any younger; you might get high blood pressure. Calm down."

"I don't care! They shouldn't talk about my sister that way." Jiyong sighed angrily.

"Well, you can address it in your interview. It's tomorrow, right? Just address it there." Youngbae suggested.

So, that's what he did. He just had to wait for the right time to say it. The right time came when the interviewer asked about you. It was then that he unleashed his anger and annoyance towards all of it.

"What's it like seeing your sister being an idol like you?"

"It's great! I just don't like seeing the hate she gets. It's so unnecessary! I read all of it. She's just nice enough to not tell me anything. Everything people say about her are so hurtful. They don't know that it hurts me too because I'm her brother." Jiyong said.

"I'm sure it does." The interviewer nodded. "But how do you feel about Y/N dating a BTS member when she was just dating Park Bo-gum not too long ago?"

Jiyong rolled his eyes, "That's her business, neither mine nor everyone else's. She can date whoever she wants to date. My only concern is if they treat her right. She's young, but she's also an adult. She can handle herself. I'll only interfere if she asks me for help."

"Is it true that Y/N got a nose job?"

"Alright, let me make this clear: she never got anything done. It also hurts mine and my family's feelings that people are actively telling her to fix her face. Why would she do that? If any of you really look at her, we look alike. Telling her to get her face done is like telling me to get my face done. And why would we do that, when we look like a mix of our parents? That's like telling us our parents are ugly." Jiyong explained.

"If she gets plastic surgery, what happens then? Will everyone be happy? Of course not. They'll find a new thing to hate on her. The other day pictures of her sitting down at a cafe while eating with her date went viral. I thought it was because she was on a date, which is ridiculous to be viral for in the first place, but turns out, she went viral because of her body roll. That's insane! Everyone has that. It's normal! When are we all going to stop policing people for having a normal body? She also got viral for having cellulite. I mean, come on! It's insane to hate a little girl so much."

"Little girl?"

Jiyong closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Sorry. Sometimes, I still see her as my 5-year-old sister who did nothing but dance. She's very sweet and she doesn't deserve all of those things."

Jiyong got a lot of pats on the back and he got praised for being a good brother, but the only person he wanted to hear from was you. When you called him in the middle of the night, he immediately answered.

"Y/N?" His voice a bit hoarse from being tired all day.

"Thank you." You said after a moment of silence. Jiyong smiled to himself and said, "You're my sister, Y/N. I have to set an example for you. I will defend you until my last breath, okay? I have your back."

"And I have yours." You said softly. Jiyong grinned, "Just know that everyday, I'm so grateful to be your older brother."

"I don't know how to cope with all of it." You cried.

His heart broke. "Y/N, don't listen to anything you hear and don't absorb anything you read. Their opinions don't matter because what matters is what you think. But I'm afraid I'm gonna have to nag you about a few things. Like, don't get plastic surgery and don't reply to whatever comment people have about your body. I'm going to be strict with those. It's your business, anyway."

"That's true. I mean, why do they care about who I ride, anyway?"

"Okay, that's-" Jiyong coughed. "I did NOT need to know that, but that's, uh, that's true. Why do they care, anyway? They're just jealous it's you and not them."

You chuckled, wiping your tears. "Love you, Jiyong."

"I love you too." He smiled. "Now, it's time for you to come clean. I just want to know- who are you really dating?"

"JIYONG!!!"

"I mean, I just want to know if I have a new brother-in-law!"

a/n: whoever reads this, i love you. pls be kind to yourself. pls allow yourself to grow into your features before getting poked and prodded by needles and all <3

permanent taglist: @redhoodedtoad @billiesiousji @hayd3n8 @sherrayyyyy @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @emmiesoverthemoon @breakmeoff @sayugarper @gdinthehouseee

jiyong taglist: @loveesiren @aizshallnotbefound

eternal sunshine taglist: @sevendaysummer @sherxoo @whotfiscamellia @multifanxtvshows @patheticgirl127 @amyyforshort @sylviavf @steponupbabe @galgal-egg

#reblogged #rec #kwon jiyong x rec #i love sibling dynamics!!!

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ttturnitup · 21 hours ago

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my friends r so talented. rb if ur friends are talented

#reblogged #im so fortunated to be friends with them for mamy reasons #but getting to see their talent and be helped and inspired by them is such an honour #i love you all

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ttturnitup · 22 hours ago

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no please, allow me

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 1.6k

summary: both you and chris are at battle in enforcing that chivalry has yet to die. but who will win?

tags: just short n sweet. pure fluff. slight suggestive part in the middle but not really graphic. enjoy!

It began, as so many sacred things do, in the quiet.

Sunlight had spilled through the gauzy curtains in soft, golden threads, dressing the apartment in the gentle hue of morning. The air had been still, reverent, and drowsy with warmth. From the kitchen, a kettle had begun to hum—a low, comforting sound that wrapped itself around the wooden beams and the breathing walls of your shared home.

Chris had risen before you. He always had.

You never asked him to. You had attempted, several times, to wake before him—to sneak past him with sleepy eyes and unbrushed hair in your valiant bid to prepare breakfast first—but somehow, without fail, he had always beaten you to it.

This morning had been no different. When you opened your eyes, the slippers by your bedside had already been placed neatly in reach, their interiors warm as if his hands had cradled them before setting them down. There had been toast on the table, buttered with absolute precision to every edge, and eggs that had clearly been coaxed into the shape of tiny hearts. He had insisted that he had “just thrown something together.”—his artistry betrayed him.

You had leaned in the doorway in silence, observing him in his natural state—humming under his breath, sleeves pushed up to the elbows of a threadbare sweater, hair tousled from sleep. There had been a peace to the way he moved, as though he was precisely where he had always meant to be.

You had stepped forward quietly, opened the drawer, and retrieved his favorite mug. He had noticed. His eyes had flicked toward you, a lazy, knowing smile curving at the corners of his mouth.

“Trying to steal my charm again?” he had teased, amusement tucked beneath his words like silk under lace.

“Trying to?” you had echoed, pouring the coffee before he could move, “More like succeeding to.”

His fingers had brushed yours as you passed the mug to him. He had not let go immediately. His thumb had traced a quiet path over your knuckles. The gesture had been small, nearly invisible to anyone else. But you had felt it—like a whisper to the soul.

“We’ll see about that,” he murmured, his dark eyes lingering on you as you turned to eat his meal.

With Chris, there had always been this—this delicate, unspoken duel. A ceaseless, affectionate sparring of tenderness. The two of you had existed in a continuous loop of care and quiet one-upmanship, each desperate to out-love the other with gestures so gentle they might have been missed by anyone not paying attention.

But you had always been paying attention.

At dinner, you had sat across from him in a quiet, amber-lit restaurant, your glasses of water catching the candlelight. He had lifted his, sipped once, eyes flickering to yours. You had done the same. He had placed his glass down deliberately, watching, waiting. So had you.

It had become a silent standoff—two stubborn hearts locked in a battle of generosity. Who would finish their water first? Who would have the honor of refilling the other’s glass?

You had taken a strategic sip.

He had taken two.

You had set your glass down, crossed your arms, and narrowed your eyes at him, a smile ghosting over your lips.

“Don’t even think about it,” you had warned.

“Too late,” he grinned, reaching for the glass bottle.

Alas, he was not fast enough. You had effectively snatched it before he could, and victory had never tasted as sweet as the smugness in your second sip of water.

Later, the bedroom light had been dimmed to a golden hush, casting slow-moving shadows across the duvet, and Chris had looked at you the way he always did when his kindness slipped into something heavier, needier—more deliberate.

He had not reached for you in hunger, but in worship.

His hands, calloused in places and gentle in others, had moved over you with the same reverence he reserved for delicate things. Every touch had spoken of intention. He had kissed your skin as though it were scripture, learning and reciting it all at once.

“You don't have to—” you had begun, already breathless from the way his lips had barely brushed along your inner thigh, a feathering of heat and desire.

“I want to,” he murmured, looking up through his lashes, voice wrapped in velvet. “Let me take care of you.”

And you had. Who were you to deny such a generous offer?

You had surrendered to him the way one might surrender to music or moonlight—utterly, quietly, without resistance. Because with Chris, giving had never been a transaction. It had been a language. One he had spoken fluently, eagerly, like it was instinct carved into him.

He had taken his time.

He always did.

As if every sigh that slipped from your lips was something he wanted to commit to memory. As if your pleasure was something holy, and he was the only worshipper needed.

He had never rushed you. He had watched you fall apart like it was the greatest honor he had ever known. His fingers had curled just right, his mouth patient and unrelenting, his name drawn from your throat like a prayer too long withheld.

And even when your body trembled from the force of it, when you reached down to pull him up, to offer him something in return, he had only kissed your wrist and smiled into your palm.

“Later,” he had whispered, voice low and rich with promise. “Let me give first.”

Because to Chris, love had always been an act of offering.

And in moments like these, he gave without restraint.

Later that week, in the entrance of a cozy bookstore, the two of you had stopped beneath the awning as soft rain had laced the sky. You had reached for the door handle.

But so had he.

Your hands had collided, and the moment had sparked into one of those ridiculous, lovely battles neither of you had intended but both of you had welcomed.

“Allow me,” he had said, bowing theatrically.

“Not a chance,” you had replied, already reaching again.

A breathless scuffle had ensued—one hand sliding above the other, elbows gently bumping, the door handle twisting back and forth like a prize sought by two laughing children. In the end, he had managed to open the door for you, and planted a swift, warm kiss on your temple and slid a hand on your waist, guiding you inside.

Every day with Chris had been filled with this kind of love. A thousand tiny wars of kindness. Disguised battles fought with umbrellas opened over the other’s head first, dinners cooked when the other insisted they were too tired, shoulders offered in silence during long subway rides home. You had discovered joy in hiding love notes in his coat pockets. He had retaliated by memorizing your favorite tea for every mood, ready with a steaming cup before you even spoke.

Once, on a particularly bitter evening, you had returned to find him wrapped in a blanket he had clearly meant for you. You had fallen asleep on the couch, curled around a cushion like something delicate. Rather than wake you, he had covered your frame with the second throw and cocooned himself into the smallest shape beside you, as if shrinking could somehow preserve the warmth meant for your comfort.

“Chris,” you had murmured upon waking, shifting to tug your blanket toward him. “You're shivering.”

“I didn't want you to be cold,” he had replied, voice softened by the remnants of sleep. “You always curl into a ball when you shiver. Like a cat.”

“You need warmth too.”

A pause. A snort.

“I like when you purr.”

That night, you had fallen in love with him again. Quietly, deeply, as if for the very first time.

And again the next morning, when he had offered you the first pancake with the slightly burned edge—your favorite. Again, when he had let you win the battle of who would carry the groceries, only to slip snacks into your pocket while your back was turned.

Every day, the war had continued. But it had never been one of damage—it had been a quiet revolution of softness. You would offer him the best looking and tasting pieces of fruit. He had tucked your charger into your bag before you noticed. You had pretended not to be tired so he could fall asleep first. He had feigned deep sleep, just to ensure you had the blanket.

There had been no laurels, no grand confessions proclaimed beneath fireworks or starlit stages. Only two hearts, steadfast and unspoken, engaged in a quiet contest where the scoreboard was marked not by triumph, but by tenderness—and the only victory was found in the curve of the other’s smile.

This had been your love story. Not carved into monuments or inked into timeless sonnets, but embroidered into the fabric of ordinary days. In the hum of the kettle, the warmth of a second blanket, the way he remembered how you liked your tea on weary evenings.

No matter how mundane a day turned out, not a single moment had ever felt small.

Even silence had a heartbeat. Each act—a dish dried, a door held open, a glass refilled—had spoken volumes. And beneath every gesture, a message lay nestled, gentle as breath:

I see you. I cherish you. Let me hold this life with you, in all the quiet ways that matter. For as long as you will let me.

And in return, you had spoken your answer without needing words—through folded laundry, kisses pressed softly to his shoulder when he least expected them.

Because in this tender, ceaseless war of kindness, you had both surrendered long ago.

And in that surrender, you both had found something far greater than victory.

You both had found home.

taglist (ask to be added here): @petersasteria @gdinthehouseee @aizshallnotbefound @burlesquerade @floofeh-purpi @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @ttturnitup @breakmeoff @sherrayyyyy @ricecake9999 @leni111 @scream-queen-25 @spiritualgirly444 @fairyprincesslvr21 @loonybunny1 @uuchii @sherxoo

#reblogged #rec #misc rec #wtf im yearning so hard rn

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ttturnitup · 1 day ago

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eyes on me (1)

summary: the beginning of your story with bigbang as a producer for the MADE documentary. but timing is everything in life. and it can split a person in two.

a/n: this will be a jiyong x reader x daesung series <3

The room was stifling.

You sat rigid, fingers clenched around your pen, silently willing yourself not to meet the eyes that had been burning into you for the last hour.

Unrelenting.

Dark.

Distrustful.

He hated you.

And he barely even knew your name.

Yang Hyunsuk continued talking, your boss nodding along beside you as you took notes diligently, pretending not to notice the weight of that gaze.

GDragon - Kwon Jiyong - made sharp, pointed comments between long stretches of silence. Each one caused your grip on the pen to falter.

“This is bullshit.”

“I refuse to cooperate.”

“I’d sooner jump off stage than film this documentary.”

This meeting was supposed to be exciting.

Your first real assignment beyond editing drafts or scrolling through fashion blogs - a role as a producer for Big Bang’s MADE tour documentary. But the band’s reactions were… mixed.

Understandable, of course.

They were intensely private.

And you?

You were the outsider, the threat. The girl with the pen and the camera and too many questions.

Especially to him.

Jiyong.

He didn’t trust you.

“I can assure you all that y/n is very good at her job,” your boss said, attempting to smooth things over. “She’ll ask questions only if you feel comfortable answering.”

“I won’t be answering anything,” Jiyong said flatly.

Hyunsuk sighed, clearly tired of this.

But then Daesung leaned forward, folding his hands on the glass table. “I think… this could be exciting.”

You met his kind eyes and gave a small, grateful smile. “A lot of artists look back on their tour footage fondly. We’re simply capturing the memories while they’re happening.”

“And sharing them with the world,” Jiyong muttered, not even looking at you.

You quickly looked down again.

“I’m in,” Youngbae offered with a shrug, glancing around. “I mean, how much harm could it do?”

“A lot,” Seunghyun muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “But… art is art. This is just another expression of it.”

Eventually, one by one, the others began to agree - mostly reluctantly, but the decision was made. The documentary was happening.

And you could finally breathe again.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You slipped out of the boardroom the moment the papers were signed and made a direct path to the water dispenser. Your hands trembled slightly as you filled the paper cup.

You’re okay. It’s fine. You’ve got this.

"I'm looking forward to it."

You jumped at the voice, nearly spilling your drink. Turning around, you found Daesung standing behind you, hands tucked in his pockets, smiling gently.

“Oh - sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

He tilted his head. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to say… I think this’ll be a good thing.”

You smiled, nerves easing. “Thank you. I’ve always wanted to travel, so it’s already a dream job.”

He grinned. “Ah, well… tour life isn't always that dreamy. We live off instant noodles, energy drinks and alcohol. Mostly Seunghyun and Jiyong’s fault, honestly.”

You laughed, surprising yourself. “Good to know. I enjoy a glass of wine myself."

“So you'll fit right in.” He chuckled, then hesitated. “You’ll be okay, y/n.”

You met his gaze. “I hope so.”

And just like that, the sharp edges of your day began to soften.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

It didn’t take long to learn that while the boys were a tight-knit group, each of them were wildly different in energy and temperament. Youngbae was warm and helpful. Seunghyun was mischievous but kind in his own way. Daesung was steady - your soft landing.

And Jiyong?

Jiyong was still a wall you couldn't climb.

He hadn’t said a word to you since that meeting. Hadn’t acknowledged your presence, even when the camera passed over him in rehearsals or during casual crew meals.

But he watched.

You felt it.

And it was only a matter of time before that fire did something more than just burn.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Touring with Big Bang was like being stuck inside a fever dream.

The days blurred into long stretches of rehearsal, cramped travel, last-minute tech issues, and night after night of performances that left you breathless - even from behind the camera.

And through all of it, you were alone.

Floating on the edges of the crew, invisible in the shadows, with your headphones on and your clipboard clutched like armour.

You were good at your job. Everyone said so.

But being surrounded by a group as close as BigBang- brothers in every sense of the word - made your isolation feel ten times heavier.

The hardest part?

Jiyong still hadn’t said a word to you.

He’d laugh with Youngbae, joke with Seunghyun, hang off Daesung’s shoulder like the most charming man on earth - but with you, it was silence.

Except his eyes.

He looked at you.

Always.

Sharp glances across the dressing room. Lingering stares during soundcheck. You’d turn a corner and find him already watching.

You couldn’t decide if you wanted to run or ask him why.

But then, during a show in Osaka, something cracked.

You were standing in the wings, eyes following Jiyong as he strutted off-stage after Zutter - sweat-soaked and breathless, his mic swinging from his hand.

He was dazzling.

Magnetic.

You didn’t expect him to look your way.

And you definitely didn’t expect him to collapse.

It was like a string had been cut - his body dropping suddenly, gracelessly, onto the floor.

The crew screamed.

Chaos erupted.

You didn’t think.

You just ran.

Dropping your gear, you were the first at his side, kneeling beside him as he fought to stay conscious.

His skin was blazing hot, clothes soaked through.

Heatstroke.

You’d seen it before.

And you knew it could be life-threatening.

You grabbed a cold bottle of water from the nearest outstretched hand, pressing it to his neck, fanning his face with your hand.

Other frantic hands joined yours, but they focused on tugging at his clothes, unzipping the jacket only to force a new one in its place.

"What are you doing?" you snapped at them but they didn't listen to you, only focused on dressing him for his next song.

The idol gasped for breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his vision blurred.

“Jiyong - hey, just breathe,” you urged, voice soft but firm. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

He blinked, dazed, unfocused. You could see the fear behind his eyes. The confusion.

“We need a medic - ” His manager was yelling behind you, but Jiyong’s fingers clutched yours suddenly.

Desperate.

Shaky.

Scared.

You didn’t pull away. You squeezed back.

It was the first time he’d touched you.

Minutes passed.

"I need to go back on," he murmured, trying to lift his head from the floor. "I need - " his head hit the ground again, unable to hold himself up.

He was still due to go back on stage for Bae Bae, the opening chords awakening him from his daze.

"You need to rest," you denied but a flurry of hands soon swept him up and somehow, he remained standing. Stumbling under the lights, finishing the song with sheer willpower and muscle memory.

But the moment he was offstage again, he collapsed straight into your arms.

You caught him.

Knees hitting the ground as he sagged against you. You carefully guided him to the ground, your hand became trapped beneath his head but you let it stay there, offering him what comfort you could.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

He didn’t speak. Didn’t open his eyes. Just gripped your hand like a lifeline.

And for that moment… there was no tense silence between you.

Just two people in the quiet chaos of something real.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You hadn't seen him since that night.

A week passed by and the band were finally ready to perform again. And they did. It had been nerve-wracking, watching from the sidelines, your eyes pinned to Jiyong the whole time - wondering if he was ok.

But he had put on a show stopping performance and you breathed out in relief when it was over.

“Hey,” Daesung appeared beside you just as you were packing up camera batteries in the empty dressing room. “Would you maybe, um... did you want to grab some drinks later?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Really? Me?”

"Daesung!" Seunghyun called from across the room, half-way out of the door. "Are you inviting her out tonight?"

"Yeah but - "

"Perfect. Meet us at the club! We've booked a booth." He was gone again and you turned your eyes back to Daesung whose shoulders slumped forward with a sigh.

"So it's a group outing?"

“Yeah.” He murmured. “I guess it is."

You hesitated, then nodded. “Okay... I'll see you there then."

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The club was already dark and hazy by the time you arrived.

You found the others crammed into a private lounge area in the back, sharing drinks and laughing together.

You weren’t exactly dressed to impress - light jacket, hair pinned back, your usual practical self - but Daesung smiled when he saw you.

He sat beside you for a while, keeping you company as Seunghyun and Youngbae got into a heated debate over setlists, but the music was so loud that it made casual conversation nearly impossible.

Eventually, Daesung leaned in.

“This isn't really my kind of scene,” he said, with a frown. “I think I’m gonna head back.”

“Oh… okay.” You tried not to sound disappointed.

“Did you - well, are you staying here?"

You blinked, then looked down at the drink in your hand. Was that an invitation to leave with him or was the alcohol making you read into things that weren't there?

“I guess?" You looked back at him, hopeful, waiting for his response.

He cleared his throat and nodded. "Ok. Stay safe, y/n. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

He gave your shoulder a warm squeeze and slipped out, leaving you sandwiched between a couple of backup dancers and your untouched drink.

A wave of disappointment and rejection rolled over you.

You needed air.

You saw the sign for the outdoor smoking area and hurried towards it. But the moment the door shut behind you, the music muffled, you felt a pair of eyes on you.

Jiyong was already out there. Alone.

Leaning against the far railing, cigarette between his fingers, drink in the other. The city lights scattered behind him like a crown, and even from this distance, you felt him watching you.

You froze.

He didn’t move. Just tilted his head slightly, lifting his glass in greeting.

You gave him a quick nod and crossed to the far end of the terrace, dragging in a breath as you leaned against the cool rail. You weren’t trying to bother him.

But then… you weren’t trying to avoid him either.

Minutes passed. You could hear the flick of his lighter, the exhale of smoke. Feel the weight of his gaze.

Then - footsteps.

Slow. Measured.

He stopped beside you, far too close for comfort, and yet you didn’t shift away.

“You don’t smoke,” he murmured, glancing down at your hands.

“Just needed air.”

He hummed low in his throat. “Me too," And then he took a long, pointed drag of his cigarette, looking down at you with an amused smirk.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "Very refreshing."

Jiyong nodded, raising a brow. "Ah, you see it's not just about the air out here. The view helps. I'm a very visual person."

His gaze travelled from the city lights back to you.

You didn’t answer.

His cologne was heady, his voice low and lazy with drink, and the heat of his body at your side was… distracting.

"I'm sorry I've been giving you such a hard time," he added after a beat. "I've been under a lot of pressure. And I don't always deal with my feelings very well. Especially if I'm nervous... You make me nervous - if that wasn't clear."

"Oh." You tightened your grip on the rail. "Is that... because of the documentary? Because of the questions?"

"What questions?" he teased. "You haven't asked me any yet."

You gave him a sidewards glance. "Is that such a surprise?"

He shook his head, casting his smile back to the city lights. "Ask me one now. I promise I'll answer."

"Ok..." You tilted your head in thought, wracking your brain for the right thing to say. All of the questions on your list back at the hotel seemed to slip your mind. "Are you having fun tonight?"

Jiyong hadn't been expecting that and laughed loudly, prompting you to smile. His radiance was infectious.

"No," he shook his head still smiling. "I wasn't, but now I think that's changing."

"Oh, it must be the fresh air," you inclined your head towards his burning cigarette with a playful smirk.

"Something like that," he murmured, taking a drag as he held your gaze. “Can I ask you a question now?”

“I'd prefer to remain a mystery,” you said smoothly.

“Shame.”

You met his intense gaze suddenly.

His lips were curved - not into a smile, not quite - and his eyes were hooded, flicking briefly to your mouth before meeting your stare again.

He set his glass down and dropped his cigarette into the remains of gold liquid.

Your breath caught.

Your heart was a drum in your chest, pounding louder than the bass of the club. His watchful gaze held you still - not demanding, but full of that unmistakable pull, the kind that made it hard to think.

You felt his hand skim the edge of your hip, then flatten against your lower back. The contact sent a shock straight through you.

“This is a bad idea,” you breathed.

“Definitely,” he said, before closing the distance.

His mouth caught yours in a kiss that was all fire and frustration, months of tension crashing together in one dizzying, hungry second.

He tasted like rum and smoke and trouble.

One hand tangled into your hair, the other still firm against your back as he drew you in.

You melted into his heated touch before you could stop yourself.

The kiss wasn’t slow or sweet - it was sharp-edged, breathless, the kind that left no room for questions.

Your back hit the railing and he pressed in closer, deepening it, tongue brushing yours as your hands gripped his jacket.

He pulled back just barely, lips grazing yours, breathing heavy. “Tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

Instead, you kissed him again - harder this time - fingers slipping into his hair, tugging, losing yourself in the heat of it all. The city lights behind your closed eyes blurred into nothing, the bass inside became background noise, and all you could feel was him.

When he finally pulled back for air, you were flushed, dazed, and trembling slightly.

His thumb dragged lightly over your bottom lip, and his eyes locked on yours with something unreadable.

“Come with me,” he said. It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be.

You let him take your hand.

The walk back to the hotel was a blur - the quiet hush of empty hallways, the weight of silence thick with anticipation.

His hotel door clicked shut behind you.

And the rest - the way he touched you like he’d been waiting all tour to have you, the soft gasp of your name in the dark, your hands fisted in his dark hair - it all unfolded like a secret you weren’t supposed to discover.

But you did.

You remembered it. Every second.

And so did he.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

It hadn't stopped there.

You had thought it would be over when you slipped out of Jiyong’s hotel room the morning after.

One night.

A simple mistake.

A mix of exhaustion, too much alcohol, and loneliness wrapped in heat and urgency. That’s all it was.

But then it happened again.

And you stopped counting eventually. Somewhere along the line, it stopped feeling like a mistake.

It wasn't just the sex - though God, that was something.

It was the way he looked at you in the dark, after everything.

Quiet.

Raw.

Human.

Not G-Dragon. Not the legend or the headline.

Just Jiyong.

Maybe it started as a way to blow off steam.

You were constantly chasing light, capturing emotion, stitching together a documentary that didn’t step too far into their privacy but still said something.

Meanwhile, he was burning at both ends - switching between stages and press rooms, trying to keep his head on straight when the weight of his persona grew too heavy.

And yet… when it was just the two of you - hidden behind locked doors and drawn curtains - it was like exhaling after holding your breath for days.

You saw him soften.

You saw him shed.

He became talkative during interviews, more present, more grounded. And you started smiling more too, laughing off the stress, knowing you'd have somewhere - someone - to fall into at the end of the night.

It wasn’t love.

But it was something.

And neither of you wanted to name it just yet.

So it stayed hidden.

Although you soon learned that privacy was rare in the life of an idol.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

It was meant to be a prank.

They’d done it to Jiyong before: wait till he was mid-shower, break into his hotel room with the spare key, film him briefly, and vanish before he could snatch the phone.

Classic chaos. Group tradition.

So that night, while Jiyong was in his suite - supposedly alone - the others crept in, snickering like children, phones already rolling to film his inevitable scream when he saw them.

But when they burst into the bathroom, throwing open the door with a loud “YAH, GDRAGON, NICE ASS - ”

They froze.

So did you.

You and Jiyong were both behind the steamy glass of the shower, pressed up against each other, your hands caught somewhere they shouldn’t be.

For a second, no one moved.

Then you shrieked.

Loudly.

Jiyong’s arm shot out to pull you behind him. “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Youngbae gasped and dropped his phone, covering his eyes. “Oh my god - ”

“Well that explains everything!” Seunghyun barked, already cackling as Daesung quickly backed out of the room. “I knew you were smiling more lately.”

“Hyung - shut the damn door!” Jiyong shouted.

Youngbae scrambled, eyes covered as he bashed into the door with a thud before blindly feeling for the handle and yanking it closed.

You leaned your forehead against Jiyong’s chest, mortified. “Oh my god.”

He sighed dramatically, rubbing your back. “Well, that’s one way to make it official.”

You smacked his shoulder. “This is so bad - ”

He grinned, brushing wet hair from your face. “Or maybe it's getting good.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

am i starting another series? yes. don't yell at me.

but don't worry, i've already got the next three chapters mostly finished...

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @maskedcrawford , @breakmeoff , @emmiesoverthemoon , @rafesbunniebby , @ricecake9999 , @fleabagspurplewife , @sylviavf , @ldydeath , @wonyluvi , @deliciousmagazinequeen

#reblogged #rec #kwon jiyong x rec #im also tagging this as #kang daesung x rec #bc it will be leading there thank u authors note #this is gonna be so fucking good

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ttturnitup · 1 day ago

Text

Don’t Tell Nobody | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

BIGBANG APRIL CHALLENGE - APRIL 20TH

Summary: You and Jiyong used to hate each other. But now that you’re in a secret relationship sometimes that hatred still seeps out. Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: 18+ mdni. Oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v., choking Author’s Note: Here is day 20 (!!) of the April challenge. I tried to capture this prompt as best I could, but I gave it a more playful approach than a toxic one. I need my boy to be happy sometimes I guess.

When you first met Jiyong you’d hated him. Every event you ran into each other you were met with glares and cold shoulders. There’d been no real reason for your mutual hatred for each other, there was nothing you could pinpoint it on. You had preferred it this way, not speaking at events, the brief fights you’d have when you had to work together. It was nice, solid, comfortable even. You didn’t like to think about the way your breath hitched when he looked at you. Didn’t want to admit that maybe there was something else boiling under the surface. Maybe you didn’t really hate him at all.

“Why does he hate me?” You whined to Seunghyun as Jiyong stormed past you, his shoulder bumping into you.

“Yeah like you’ve been an angel.” He teased. “Maybe try being nice to him.”

“Why should I? He’s never been nice to me.”

Your groups were touring together, it was torture for you having to spend so much time with him. You kept your distance for months - he did too. Jiyong watched from across the room while you joked around with Seunghyun, a glare on his face. You always thought there was something more going on there with them, how he was always so angry when the two of you were together. In reality he just didn’t like how easy it was for you to become friends with his friends. He wanted to be the one to make you laugh.

One night in the middle of the tour everything changed.

Your ex had somehow made his way to a show, he’d been banned but had found a way backstage. He’d cornered you alone. The shouting couldn’t be heard over the music, but Jiyong had forgotten something and walked in as he’d stepped just a little too close to you. He saw red but before he could punch the guy, security was there escorting him from the building. Jiyong had kept a close eye on you that night, never letting you too far from him. The rest had been history.

Nobody had noticed the shift, you two keeping up your fights for appearances, not sitting close to each other at group dinners. That didn’t stop your eyes from finding his, always catching him watching you when he couldn’t touch you. You spent your nights wrapped up in each other's arms. You’d sneak off between sets for stolen kisses in dark hallways away from prying eyes. You’d agreed this was too new, too special to announce in the middle of a tour.

It was the last night of the tour and you were having a hard time with your costumes. They were worn out, barely holding together and the costume designer had deemed herself worthless. The girls had given up on you and you were currently sitting on the floor, leaning against a couch while you tried to sew up a hole in your dress. A gentle knock on the door startled you and you looked up to see Jiyong entering the room.

“Go away.” You sniffled as you threw the needle down in frustration. You’d just have to pray the dress didn’t fall off on stage.

Jiyong smirked as he made his way over to you, kneeling on the ground in front of you.

“Let me look.” As he was about to crawl over to you you reached your leg out, your heel digging into his chest as you pushed him back.

“I said go away, Jiyong.”

Once you were in a mood like this, it was best to just leave you alone until the meltdown had ended. In your rational brain you knew the dress wouldn’t actually fall apart on stage but damn if you weren’t pissed that there wasn’t enough money in the budget for new outfits at least for tonight. JIyong didn’t care, he liked pushing your buttons.

Jiyong snorted, raising a brow as your heel dug into him. Your eyes locked and you let out a sigh as his hand ran across your thigh, moving your leg to rest comfortably on his shoulder. He didn’t need to explain to the crowd why he had heel marks all over his chest. He turned his head, placing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh and you let out a small moan. He smirked at the sound, getting the reaction he wanted before moving his lips away from you.

“I hate you.” You groaned as you moved your leg, giving him a gentle kick.

Jiyog smirked in response as he reached out to grab the fabric of your dress, giving it a quick once over.

“You’ll be fine out there, it’ll hold.”

It annoyed you how sure he sounded. As if he knew everything and you balled your hands into fists. Jiyong caught on to how tense you were, he might not be able to fix your dress but he could definitely help ease that tension. He pulled you closer as his lips moved back to your thigh, moving slowly over your skin, alternating between kisses and gentle bites, leaving small marks all over your inner thigh. Your hands found their way to his hair, tugging gently as he stopped his movements at your wet core.

“Damn, that wet for me already?” He teased,

His teeth hooked into the string of your panties as he tugged them down your legs, his eyes staying locked on yours. Once they were halfway down, his fingers hooked into them, pulling them the rest of the way off. He moved your other leg, positioning himself between your thighs as his fingers opened your lips. His tongue darted out, licking from your entrance to your clit, his tongue began swirling around your clit. You let out a moan, your heels digging into his shoulder blades and he hissed at the contact. He moved his hand, inserting two fingers as he began to pump in rhythm to his tongue.

It was too much, your body feeling warm as your head clouded with lust. Jiyong brought you close, his fingers curling inside you as his tongue swirled around your clit. He removed his fingers abruptly, his tongue lapping up your sweetness. He would never get tired of how you tasted. Your hips rocked against his tongue as he swirled around your clit faster. Just as he felt you about to release he pulled away.

“Ji, please.” you whined and he smirked as he moved, hovering over you.

His lips crashing down on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth and you moaned as you tasted yourself on him. Your tongues massaged together as your hands slid down his chest, towards his pants and unbuttoned them, pushing them down. Your hand cupped him through his boxers and he rocked into your hand. He shrugged out of his boxers and pulled you into his lap, switching you to being on top of him. You hoovered over him, your hand pumping his cock slowly as you positioned yourself. You lowered onto him slowly, so slowly taking him inch by inch until he was fully inside of you. You both moaned at the sensation, your walls clamping around him. You’d been so close to orgasm seconds ago that this simple movement almost set you off.

You rocked your hips, Jiyong letting out a moan as his hand moved to your throat, he squeezed gently applying pressure, and you choked out a moan as your hips rocked faster.

“Harder.” You moaned

Jiyong’s mouth moved to your neck, his tongue darting out to circle the sensitive spot right above your collarbone as his hand tightened around your throat. He bit down gently, making sure to leave a mark. You guys were trying to keep your relationship a secret but that didn’t mean he couldn’t leave his mark all over your body.

You brought your hand to his head, moving it back up to your face, your lips capturing his hungrily as his hips bucked up in rhythm with yours. Your movements got faster, the friction almost too much and Jiyong let out a low moan, one you knew all too well. He was getting close. His hand tightened around your throat as he brought his free hand to your clit, rubbing fast circles as you rocked your hips faster. The friction was too much and your walls clenched around him as you screamed out his name, riding out your orgasm. Jiyong’s hips bucked into yours with a deep thrust as he came inside you. You stopped moving, Jiyong inside of you as you relaxed against him, catching your breath.

His fingers loosened on your throat and you slid off him, moving to sit next to him. He turned to face you, his hand moving a stray piece of hair out of your face as he leaned in to kiss you. It was slow and sweet, the urgency from before gone as you two sat there wrapped up in each other. As if nothing else mattered but the two of you.

“I love you.” You whispered against his lips, your eyes widening as the confession slipped from your lips.

He didn’t respond at first, instead his hand moved to cup your cheek and he brought his lips to yours again, pressing them together so gently as if he was afraid you’d take the words back if he wasn’t careful. Your hand moved to rest on top of his and you sighed into the kiss.

“I love you too.” His eyes were unreadable as he moved to stand up, his hand reaching for yours to help pull you up.

He took his time smoothing out your hair before he moved to adjust your dress. Once he was satisfied that there were no signs of what you’d just done in the room he smiled at you. You just needed something to cover that mark on your neck. He reached over, handing you a scarf. It wasn’t a typical part of the costume but you happily took it, wrapping it around your neck before placing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“All good?” Seunghyun asked with a raised brow. You shrugged, pretending as if this was normal behavior.

“Jiyong thought he could fix my dress. Turns out he’s not good at everything.” He snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever you say princess. Not my problem, your dress is falling apart.” His eyes shone with love as he looked at you, but his face still showed that indifference everyone had grown used to.

“We’re not stupid, you know?” Seunghyun looked between the two of you, annoyance evident on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jiyong slapped his back, his arm moving to rest on his friend's shoulder. “Come on, let's go watch the shit show.” He grinned.

You rolled your eyes at both of them before turning to meet up with your group, taking your place for the show. Jiyong and Seunghyun watched from the sidelines as your group performed. His eyes on you the entire set. Seunghyun noticed, of course he did. Jiyong tried to play it off, saying he was worried his stitching wouldn’t hold and how bad it would be for everyone if there was a dress malfunction on the last night of tour. He knew it was bullshit, but neither of you were ready to leave your bubble. Your eyes met briefly and Jiyong raised a brow before looking away, showing complete indifference to your set. He knew that would drive you just the right amount of crazy to want to take it out on him after the show, and he couldn’t wait to get you alone later.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @loveesiren @gdinthehouseee @tulentiy @petersasteria @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @mirahyun @breakmeoff @1950schick @sherrayyyyy @flymetothexmoon

Writing challenge taglist: @bluesunss @berfgrimm @emmiesoverthemoon @sevendaysummer @currentloser @makeitworse @aizshallnotbefound @sherxoo @keiraryan @steponupbabe

#reblogged #rec #kwon jiyong x rec #hehehehehe yes #i loved this take #it was fun and flirty and just that right amount of hate that isnt actually hate but still gives a kick #nsfw #good fic by a good person #bigbangaprilchallenge

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ttturnitup · 1 day ago

Text

a good day

summary: it's the last episode of Good Day and the family spend the evening at an amusement park with a couple extra guests

The night air was warm and glowing, thick with the sugar-sweet scent of candy floss and popcorn.

Jiyong arrived at the gates of the theme park with Angel snuggly strapped against his chest and Diva leading the way, her tiny sneakers lighting up every time her feet hit the pavement.

“Faster, Appa! Come on!” she shouted, pointing at the rides.

“At least someone's excited,” Jiyong muttered with a soft smile, shifting the baby bag higher on his shoulder and following after her.

Angel let out a sleepy sound against him, her little fists clutching the edge of his shirt like she was already over it.

At the entrance, they were met by two familiar faces - Kwanghee bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Doni casually munching on a churro.

“There he is! GDragon!” Kwanghee sang, arms out wide in greeting, voice way too loud for the hour. “Aigoo, look at your family! How come you brought them to work?”

“They refused to stay home,” Jiyong lied. “They insisted on coming with me.”

As if he hadn't cancelled the babysitter and told his children all about the magical theme park that he just couldn't go to without taking them along.

“I'm gonna go on the ponies!” Diva screamed, bubbling with excitement as she gripped Jiyong's jeans.

“See,” he nodded in answer, adjusting Angel in the carrier as she let out a quiet coo.

"Oh sure," Doni huffed, taking another bite of his sugary treat. "Where's y/n?"

"Work thing," Jiyong murmured despondently, wishing that you were here too. He kissed the top of Angel's head, glad that at least he was able to feel the comfort of your presence through his babies.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Before anything else, Kwanghee dragged them to the nearest cart so Jiyong could purchase everyone matching fuzzy headbands.

Diva picked ones with bunny ears, of course, while Jiyong wore fluffy cat ears that matched Angel’s miniature version. Even Doni didn’t protest too hard when Jiyong planted a mouse headband on his head and said, “For unity.”

They were sitting on a bench sharing churros and juice boxes when the distant music of the carousel started playing.

Diva froze mid-bite. “THE PONIES!!!”

Jiyong didn’t even get a chance to react before she took off. “YAH - stay with me!” he called, jogging after her with Angel bouncing gently in the carrier.

As they reached the carousel, Diva gasped and pointed, “LOOK LOOK!” And there, gracefully circling around on a white horse with golden trim - was you.

Jiyong blinked, then lit up.

“JAGI?!”

His jaw dropped, then he started jumping up and down like a kid -until Angel squawked against his chest and he immediately froze. “Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, gently rubbing her back. “Appa got excited… Your Eomma's here!”

You waved at them mid-spin, grinning as you saw Diva running beside the ride, waving back at you.

“You said you had an event,” Jiyong mumbled when you finally stepped off and kissed him softly.

“Wrapped early,” you replied, adjusting Diva’s bunny ears before she sprinted toward the carousel.

Everyone climbed on - Kwanghee clinging dramatically to a horse, Jiyong holding Angel as he settled carefully onto his own horse, with you and Diva climbing next to him on a pink pony. Doni chose to sit behind on a chariot bench like the cool uncle.

Kwanghee kept trying to take selfies, stretching out his phone at wild angles while the carousel spun and Diva shouted, “AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN!” with every turn.

“Hyung - there are literally four cameras on us,” Jiyong muttered with a laugh. “Do we need all the selfies?”

“Yes,” Kwanghee replied. “For the memories.”

Angel dozed through most of it, nestled perfectly against her Appa’s chest while Diva reached over every few seconds to grab at Jiyong’s hand mid-spin. “We’re flying!”

You couldn’t stop smiling, your heart melting with every soft laugh, every goofy photo attempt, every time Jiyong turned toward you with that starry, giddy look in his eyes like he still couldn’t believe you were really there.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

After the carousel, snacks were devoured on a nearby bench.

Diva sat perched on Jiyong’s knee, crumbs all over her chin, still buzzing from the carousel ride. Angel was snoozing peacefully in your arms, her little headband tilted sideways, pacifier bobbing gently as she breathed.

That’s when everyone saw it.

Towering above, outlined in LED lights and looking way too intense for this hour of the night - the Gyro Drop.

Kwanghee gasped. “Let’s go!”

Jiyong raised a brow. “With the kids?”

“You, me, and y/n. Hyung can stay back with the girls.”

Doni blinked. “Wait, what - ”

"Absolutely not," Jiyong agreed and the older man nodded at him. "Besides, I'm a father now, I can't risk my life."

But you were already pushing off the bench. "C'mon Jiyong, it's been so long since I've ridden a Gyro-drop."

"Has it?" He raised a pointed brow at you.

"Yah! Save that kind of talk for yourselves," Hyungdon scolded, putting his churro to the side, suddenly uninterested. "Give the little one here then," he sighed.

“Hyung, if you're holding my baby, you’re wearing the carrier,” Jiyong said seriously, already unclipping the straps from his own chest.

“Aish! I know how to hold a baby. I have kids of my own, you know that, right?”

“I'm not taking chances.”

Within minutes, Doni was standing awkwardly in the baby carrier, Angel snuggled to his chest, still fast asleep, looking like a koala clinging to a very grumpy tree. Diva’s little hand was placed firmly in his.

Jiyong was still adjusting every strap meticulously. “And hold Jia’s hand. Don’t let her run. If she even thinks about going near a ride - ”

“I got it! I got it!” Doni waved him off, but Jiyong still lingered, looking over his shoulder ten times as you, him, and Kwanghee made your way toward the Gyro Drop tower.

As you were being strapped into the ride yourselves, Jiyong slipped his hand into yours.

Kwanghee peeked over at your interlocked hands. “Hyung can I hold your other hand?”

Jiyong didn’t even blink. “Hold your own hand.”

“I’ll scream louder if I don’t have a buddy - ”

“Don't worry Kwanghee, y/n is a loud screamer too." He said with a chuckle as the ride started to rise, the lights of the theme park growing smaller beneath you.

Kwanghee clutched his harness. “Okay now we're really high.”

You glanced over.

Jiyong, surprisingly, looked… chill. Relaxed, even.

“Not scared yet, old man?” you teased.

He scoffed in minor offence then smirked at you. “Please. This is easy. You know how many stages I’ve jumped off of?”

Kwanghee pouted. “Then why won’t you let me hold your - ”

Then came the drop - sudden, breathtaking, and heart-in-throat fast.

You screamed.

Kwanghee shrieked.

And Jiyong?

He threw his head back and laughed. Hair flying, eyes closed as he held tightly onto your hand.

When you touched down, adrenaline still buzzing, Jiyong turned to you with that familiar gleam in his eyes.

“Still got it.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “We’ll see if you say that on the next ride.”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Then came the log flume.

And this time, you had a plus one.

Diva was practically vibrating with joy when the staff confirmed she was tall enough to go on. She jumped up and down, squealing, “Eommaaaa! I go with you!”

Jiyong hesitated. “Is this one really safe for little ones?”

“They just sit and enjoy,” the staff reassured.

“Like a boat?”

“Yes. Mostly.”

Mostly?? Jiyong thought skeptically as he lifted Diva into the ride.

Soon you were all seated into the log-shaped boat - you at the front, Diva right behind you, Jiyong behind her with his arms and legs braced on either side, and Kwanghee in the very back, already giggling.

As the ride floated along its track, everything seemed peaceful. Gentle turns, dimly lit scenes of woodland creatures and faux riverbanks.

“Oh...this is fine,” Jiyong said, looking around at the scenic view.

“Mhmm,” you hummed.

“I’m glad we’re doing this together as a family.”

“Me too.” Kwanghee chirped and Jiyong rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

Click.

The boat started to ascend.

Click. Click.

“Wait.”

Click.

“Jagi… why’s it going up?”

You looked back with a grin. “We’re almost at the fun part!”

Jiyong’s hands gripped the sides of the seat. “It’s still going!”

“Yup.”

“It’s too high now. This is - this can't be safe for her?!”

“It's fine!" You reassured from the front, even though you couldn't see the drop yet.

He looked down at Diva, who was sitting between his legs, trying to peek at the view of the theme park as the ride continued to climb higher.

“Jagi! I think we should get off!”

“We’re halfway up now,” And at the peak, you called out, “Hands up, everyone!”

“Hands up!” Diva echoed, tiny arms in the air.

Jiyong panicked, yanking her arms down and wrapping himself around her like a human seatbelt. “NO NO NO. HOLD ON. HOLD - ”

And down you all went.

Then -

Splash.

The log flume plummeted into a wall of water.

The flash of a camera went off, capturing the moment perfectly:

You screaming in delight. Kwanghee gripping onto Jiyong’s shirt with both hands, nearly pulling him backward into his lap. And Jiyong, caught mid-yell, trying to shield Diva with his whole body.

When the boat finally coasted to a stop, drenched and breathless, Diva blinked slowly. Her hair was stuck to her forehead. Water dripped off her lashes.

“Baby, are you okay?” Jiyong gasped, checking her hands, her arms, her face.

She wiped her eyes. “I wanna go again!”

You laughed, glancing at them from over your shoulder.

“She’s a thrill seeker,” you said, proudly.

“She’s going to give me a heart attack,” Jiyong muttered, shaking his head. "Maybe I am too old for this."

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The group gathered near the now-dimming carousel lights, cheeks pink from the cold, bodies still slightly damp from the log flume.

Diva was half-asleep, swaying gently as she leaned against Jiyong’s leg, her little hand clutching the fabric of his jeans.

Angel had stirred again, wide-eyed and quietly taking in the glowing lights while still strapped securely to Doni’s chest. He’d stopped protesting hours ago and had begun patting her back automatically, completely smitten.

“She likes me,” he mumbled proudly to no one in particular.

Kwanghee, still full of energy, clapped his hands together. “Hyung, come on, one last thing! Let’s film a dance challenge. Right here. Theme park background, golden lighting - it's the perfect vibes!"

Everyone groaned in harmony.

"I'm tired," Jiyong mumbled.

Kwanghee was relentless. “Please! One last memory! It’s the last episode!”

Jiyong sighed and gently lifted Diva into Hyungdon's arms. Angel stared up at him whilst Diva rested her head on his shoulder, eyes softly falling closed.

“Aish, no more, Jiyong.” Doni muttered as he held both girls. "I won't have enough arms."

“Don’t drop my babies.” he warned sharply, adjusting his glasses as he got into position.

You held up the phone to record as Jiyong and Kwanghee got into position, the music starting up.

They danced - Kwanghee with his usual amount of flair, and Jiyong with a quiet ease, hitting the moves cleanly, even while teasing Kwanghee mid-routine.

As the song ended, Jiyong turned toward you, a little breathless. “Now I want one with you.”

You blinked. “I thought we were going home.”

“One more,” he grinned, hand outstretched. “For me. I want to dance with my wife.”

You laughed, handing back the phone to Kwanghee and stepping into the frame beside your husband.

The beat of 'Too Bad' started and the rhythm slipped right into your bones.

You moved in sync, playful and effortless - brushing shoulders, spinning, bumping hips. When he pulled you close at the end, you were both laughing together, a little flushed.

You looked up at him with a smirk. “I guess I've still got it too,” you said smugly.

"Always, Jagi," He grinned, pulled you closer, and pressed a kiss to your lips - sweet and full of pride.

Doni groaned. “Can we not do this in front of the children?”

“They’re asleep,” Jiyong mumbled, not pulling away.

Kwanghee was giddy as he reviewed the footage. “I got it! Hey! Jiyongieeee why didn't you kiss me at the end of ours? Can we re-shoot it?!"

And just like that, the camera panned wide - the carousel spinning gently behind, the soft twinkle of the theme park fading into the night.

You tucked under Jiyong’s arm. Doni beside you with the girls. And Kwanghee threw out his arms and loudly exclaimed:

“Best family ever! This is what Good Day was all about!”

And just like that, the night ended. With wet socks, tired giggles, full hearts, and the best kind of chaos.

A good day indeed.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

i found this one really hard to write but it was highly requested so i hope it was ok!

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @breakmeoff , @emmiesoverthemoon , @rafesbunniebby , @ricecake9999 , @fleabagspurplewife , @sylviavf , @ldydeath , @wonyluvi , @deliciousmagazinequeen

#reblogged #rec #kwon jiyong x rec #GDAD STORIES ALWAYS GO SO HARD!!!#its so sweet and good and my heart is happy

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ttturnitup · 2 days ago

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supernatural - G Dragon/Kwon Jiyong

Pairing: jiyong x reader (high school au, childhood friends au) Summary: he's been down bad for you ever since and he's not ashamed of it.

"This love's possessin' me, but I don't mind at all. It's taking over me, don't wanna fight the fall."

Little Jiyong was your neighbor and you basically grew up together. You were in the same grade and you went to the same school. Your moms were best friends and it was clear that they both wanted you two to end up together.

He'd always pick you up from your house so you can go and play together at the park nearby. He'd push you on the swings and he'd always pull back the swing whenever you'd get tired. He'd follow you around town whenever he'd see you leave the house, just to make sure you're safe. He was so caring and loving towards you, yet you didn't pay him any mind.

You're both in high school now and he's still the same head-over-heels-Jiyong that you knew. He'd pick you up from your house so you can walk to school together. He'd always shout at the top of his lungs so you could hear him.

"Y/N!! Let's go or we'll be late!"

"C'mon, Y/N! If we leave now, we can buy something from the convenience store. My treat!"

"My mom packed me extra kimchi just for you, Y/N. Let's go!"

At school, you'd avoid him like the plague. You didn't want people to think he was whipped or something. You weren't even dating. You guys are just friends... and he happens to be in love with you.

You knew, of course. He was very obvious.

"Look, it's your girlfriend." Seunghyun snickered as he saw you enter the cafeteria. Jiyong glanced at you and he gave you a bright smile and a big wave with two of his arms up.

"Y/N!!! Over here!!!" He said, loud enough for a few heads to turn. You looked at him and gave him a curt nod before walking to the table where your friends sat.

Jiyong smiled to himself as he put his arms down. He kept his eyes on you for a few more seconds before he continued eating.

"That's it? All she does is nod and you're suddenly happy for the rest of the day?" Youngbae asked. Jiyong with his mouth full, looked at him and nodded. "Dang, you're whipped." Youngbae laughed, causing the others to laugh too.

Jiyong swallowed his food and said, "At least I get noticed by my crush everyday. Hyorin doesn't even know you exist."

"Take that back." Youngbae glared at him playfully.

"Nope." Jiyong grinned, popping the 'p'. "i don't mind, you know. I don't mind being whipped for her. She's the most amazing girl ever and I only want her to be the only girl in my life."

"Really?" Daesung asked, Jiyong nodded happily.

"Even if you're both, let's say, away at separate colleges?" Seunghyun challenged.

"We wouldn't be at separate colleges anyway because I'll just go on and follow her. Someone familiar has to take care of her, y'know." Jiyong answered confidently.

"You're serious? She's the only girl for you? Isn't it a bit too early to tell?" Daesung questioned. He never really bothered with love and relationships.

"I knew I loved her when we were 6. I knew I wanted to marry her when we were in 8th grade. She's my constant." Jiyong said as he stared off into space with a silly smile on his face. His mind was off imagining things about what you two would do in the future.

"What if you're not her constant?" Seunghyun dared to ask. In truth, he was scared of the outcome. Despite looking like a cinnamon roll, Jiyong was pretty scary.

Jiyong's gaze broke when he turned to Seunghyun, "If that tragic thing is true, then she'd still be my constant. When I said that I loved her, I meant it. I'm hopelessly in love with her and I think I'm falling in love with her as each day passes by. I'm not ashamed of my love for her. If there's one thing I'd like to do forever, it's falling in love with her all over again."

permanent taglist: @redhoodedtoad @billiesiousji @hayd3n8 @sherrayyyyy @nbjch05 @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @emmiesoverthemoon @breakmeoff @sayugarper @gdinthehouseee

jiyong taglist: @loveesiren @aizshallnotbefound

eternal sunshine taglist: @sevendaysummer @sherxoo @whotfiscamellia @multifanxtvshows @patheticgirl127 @amyyforshort @sylviavf @steponupbabe @galgal-egg

#reblogged #rec #kwon jiyong x rec #damn where can i find devotion like that #amazing as always <333

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ttturnitup · 2 days ago

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Coup de foudre Choi Seunghyun x F!Reader

Big bang april challenge - April 19th

summary: struggling to get tickets happens to the best of us. risking your life and getting saved by your former best friend? That's less likely. But the odds are never zero.

warnings: none. created a kpop group for plot's sake

a/n: im tired?! sorry if this is bad. thank you again to @ldydeath and @wcnderlnds for this challenge.

The 'Coup de Foudre' exists.

It means lightning strike. Love at first sight. It is not a mere coincidence. Chemical reactions, hormones, the heart accelerates, the world narrows to just one person.

And we believe it.

VIVARA's debut album was called Coup de Foudre. They took the word from French and altered its meaning. Although they debuted in the early 2000's, they truly gained popularity with their breakout hits such as Starlight Rush and Eclipsed Heart.

What is amusing is that YG Entertainment manages their account too.

Just like BigBang. Your former best friend's group.

You pressed your bag against your back and ran through the pitch-black night.

You don’t believe in love at first sight, and that’s why you adore their band. Their first album had hit all the right spots. When nobody knew them, you were there, singing Break or streak until there was no more air in your lungs and your parents threatened to kick you out (they didn't).

Or in highschool, when you got rejected, and they released Reverie. Only real fans got the secret message. It was about dreaming but spoke of nightmares.

Or Eleven pretty clouds. When you adopted your first dog, Cinnamon - a tiny bark machine with too much energy. It felt like sunshine and cotton candy.

Or, even later. When your childhood best friend suddenly ghosted you. And they released Limbs. That song was controversial. It was exactly what you needed to get him out of your system.

So when they announced a concert in Seoul, you were thrilled. As a teenager, your parents were intransigent. Their kid was not going to a concert. (They also didn't want to pay). As an adult, however, you had the means and the absolute will to.

The problem is that despite being a loyal fan when they had no one, no one asks for your opinion when their band skyrockets, and you’re left scrambling for a concert ticket that seems impossible to get.

Loyalty doesn’t pay off.

Yet, on Tuesday, even though you had to work the next day, you opened your laptop at midnight. The sales would begin at three o’clock, but the website was quickly overloaded, like before a big sale - you had to camp out to secure tickets.

On coffee and tea, you endured until three, battling sleep. You tried studying, reading on your phone - nothing worked.

At 2:59 a.m., your bank card details were entered. At 3:01:37 a.m., the tickets were gone.

All because you mistook a 0 for an O in the card details.

Shame and stubbornness coexisted within you. They pushed you to search further, no matter what you had to go through. You were getting a ticket. Wherever. Resale sites. Groups. Ads. The newspaper.

NOTHING. NOWHERE.

Was this what your loyalty to the band was worth? You were fed up. So, you posted an ad on a site with no hope, and a message appeared.

“October 17th, under Hangang Bridge. $500. 11 p.m.”

The fact that it was in dollars was suspicious, but you printed the tickets at a shady exchange agent who charged way more than their worth in wons.

It felt like you were walking to your death, but you secretly hid your dog in your backpack. Just in case. She was a small harmless thing, but she barked so loudly it could shatter eardrums.

And so you ran through the pitch-black night. Under the bridge. Where broken bottles lie. Out of breath, you paused by a streetlamp, feeling your dog stir, and resumed running.

You checked your watch. 10:54 p.m. The bridge was in front of you. You were on time. You descended into the sand and took shelter in the shadow, waiting with clenched hands.

A masked man arrived after a few minutes.

“Money first.”

You frowned. “At the same time.”

“MONEY FIRST!”

You took your bag off your back and muttered, “OK, OK.” Then you opened it.

“Please, no noise, Cinnamon.”

She stuck out her tongue, panting with joy. You reached into the bag, pulling out the bundles. But before extending your hand, you hesitated.

“I still prefer to exchange at the same time…”

The man suddenly slammed you against the wall, and your bag fell, rolling near the edge.

“LET GO OF ME!”

“WHERE’S THE MONEY?”

“IN MY BAG! FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, LET GO-”

Cinnamon suddenly leaped out, barking loudly.

“Where’s this damn dog from-!”

He tried to kick her, but one strike sent him crashing onto the asphalt. Another one to the ground. A third came from the foot straight into his stomach. The man groaned.

It was the moment Cinnamon bit his wrist while barking. The man, nearly crying, struggled to get up, stumbling away headfirst.

Your savior was breathing heavily.

“Damn it, if it wasn’t for Cinnamon’s barking, you’d be dead!”

Holding your chest, you collapsed. Seunghyun dropped down behind you. “Are you okay?”

He leaned close to your face, Cinnamon curled in your arms. You nodded, sniffling. “I was so scared.”

Then all the emotions resurfaced.

“T.O.P? What are you doing here?”

He made a sort of pout. “It sounds weird coming from you.”

You couldn't hear him. The emotions were still so strong. Your heart was racing. You cupped your face in your hands. “How did you find me?”

His mask was up. He pulled it down and got closer to you.

“I was passing by and recognized Cinnamon’s barking. I thought it was an illusion. I haven't heard her in forever.”

He stood up and dusted off his pants, then extended his hand to you.

“What was that man doing?”

“He wanted my money for a VIVARA ticket,” you said softly.

"That band you used to force me to listen to?"

You chuckled, laughing at the memory. "Acting like you disliked it. I saw you swaying your head, once."

You didn't need to look to know he was smiling. "Their lyrics made no sense. They put random words together."

Tapping his shoulder, you checked Cinnamon was still strutting next to you. "You're acting like saying Fantastic baby on repeat makes sense," you rolled your eyes.

"Pffft. You saw this?"

That's where you stopped walking, heat burning your cheeks. "It's... it was a hit. Everyone saw it. That's it."

"Your ears are red, cheonsa. Don't lie to me."

Ugh! This man. "Well, you were gone, and I needed to check you were alive. That is all."

He faltered. "About that-"

You interrupted him. "No I'm good. I don't care. It's fine. I'm fine." But your voice was shaking. "Only thing saddening me right now is that I will never get to see VIVARA live."

"You can."

He stopped walking. You halted too, surprised. "Why did you stop? And can what?"

"A ticket. I can get one for you. Or as many tickets as you want."

The cold air from the river made you realize that rain was about to fall. "What?"

You rubbed your cold arm to calm the goosebumps. Seunghyun started walking again and took off his long black jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

“Jiyong know the main girl. They wanted to collaborate. It’s super easy for me to get you a ticket.”

You shook your head, still shocked. But you couldn't. That was unfair. And you were acting as if Seunghyun hadn't disappeared from your life for years, gotten in a popular boys band, released at least three hit songs.

“No, I can’t ask you for that. At least I’ll pay you back-”

He stopped you again, his hands on your shoulders.

“Hey, cheonsa, what are we? For life, for death, you remember?”

You chuckled weakly, avoiding his gaze.

“That was when we were kids. Should I remind you who broke the promise?”

His fingers tightened around your shoulder, but he didn’t answer. He took two steps back, and you continued walking through the dark night.

The first raindrops fell.

“Should I pass you the ticket tomorrow?”

"I said no."

"And I don't care. Just tell me if I should come by Donggyo tomorrow or meet you somewhere."

Your eyes darkened.

“I moved out.”

The rain intensified. You started to feel cold and pulled his jacket tighter around your shoulders. “You’re going to catch a cold," you told him.

He shook his head.

“No.”

But you saw him shiver.

“Seunghyun, you’re still a terrible liar.”

He laughed softly, stopping once again in the middle of the path, near the river.

“Will you come to one of our concerts? They miss you, too. You were friend with Jiyong. It's not fair to him.”

You looked at him, eyes shadowed by what seemed like tears but was actually rain. A flash of lightning split the sky.

You smiled. You both acted like this was normal, but you knew you could not be friends again. It was fun to pretend.

“If the line is as long as for VIVARA…”

Shaking his head, he fumbled for his phone in his pocket.

“One call, that’s enough. I’ll give you the ticket you want.”

Cinnamon was happily shaking her tail next to you.

"Just call me, cheonsa. I'll always answer."

You both looked at each other. You both knew it was a lie.

The air suddenly grew colder.

“That’s not fair.”

He laughed. “It’s the perks of being the best friend of a famous rapper. Life’s unfair.”

A bolt of lightning tore across the sky. Cinnamon flinched and jumped in your arms. Seunghyun observed her tenderly.

You both stopped walking.

You looked at him properly for the first time in so many years.

He was still as familiar as before.

But something unfamiliar settled in your chest as you stared at him, wet hair, droplets rolling down his chin, rosy lips half-smiling and tender eyes.

The distance was so vast.

We believe that Coup de Foudre happens between strangers.

Then why is your heart racing for the first time ever looking at your old best friend?

"I guess I'll send it by mail," he murmured, breaking the silence. "Still got the same address?"

You nodded, unable to look away, glued to his dark eyes. He came closer. Lifted his hand. Wiped a raindrop from your cheek. Infinitely gently wrapped his arms around your body. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

Then, he pulled away.

♪

You sat alone in a sold-out stadium.

The lights dimmed. The crowd roared. VIVARA took the stage.

They sang Reverie.

In the back of your mind, you could hear his voice whispering: for life and for death.

But he wasn’t in the seat beside you.

He never was.

You learned from a friend the group tore apart. You imagined going to his apartment with a bass and snacks. Forcing him to watch you sing. Making him laugh. Forget.

You still have his jacket.

You still can’t listen to Limbs without crying.

Cinnamon still sleeps next to you every night.

The Coup de Foudre exists.

It’s not always beautiful.

Sometimes, it strikes only one person.

And it burns.

Forever.

sorry if it's rushed! I overestimated my planning skills.

tag list: @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @loveesiren @sevendaysummer @gdinthehouseee @eru-vande @bluesunss @emmiesoverthemoon @petersasteria @currentloser @makeitworse @berfgrimm @sherxoo @aizshallnotbefound @keiraryan

normal tag list: @michelllleee @breakmeoff

#reblogged #rec #choi seunghyun rec #bigbangaprilchallenge #ooohhhh this hurt hut it was so good #loved the way the prompt was used!!!#this will occupy my brain for a while thank you

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ttturnitup · 2 days ago

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eternal sunshine - Daesung/D-Lite

Pairing: daesung x reader Summary: you're a liar. collab with @emmiesoverthemoon <3 Part 1

"I don't care what people say. We both know I couldn't change you. I guess you could say the same, can't rearrange truth. I've never seen someone lie like you do, so much even you start to think it's true. Get me out of this loop."

Daesung felt free. He'd already grieved your relationship and he was happier than ever. The guys saw it too and they were happy for him. He smiled a lot more, he laughed more, he made funnier jokes, and he hung out with his beloved friends more. He even got himself a goldfish to take care of and named it 'Happy'.

He was just enjoying his peaceful day, feeding Happy, and cleaning around his place until he got a call from Jiyong.

"Dae, have you seen Y/N's interview?" Jiyong asked in a hurry. He heard Jiyong shuffling around, as if he was moving around his apartment.

"No, do I have to? Also, what're you doing?" Daesung asked.

"I'm just cleaning around while watching random shit on YouTube. I bought a new tv and wanted to try it out. Anyway, as I was cleaning, Y/N's latest interview played on tv. She started talking shit about you! I swear! I was so, so mad! I was planning on driving there and give her a piece of my mind, but I figured you'd want to watch it first before I throw hands." Jiyong explained.

Daesung nodded, "Alright. I mean, I don't really care anymore because it's done and over with, but-"

"Dae, you don't understand." Jiyong sighed, taking a seat on his couch. "I saw the comments and everyone was saying shit about your relationship with her and how you were as a boyfriend. Now that Y/N has released a clearly false narrative, they're saying shit about you. You're a brother to me, and I don't like that."

Daesung stayed silent for a moment. Should he watch the interview or should he just let it be?

"Hello? Dae? You still there?"

"Um, yeah. I'll- I'll give it a watch." Daesung said, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes! Go ahead. Call me when you're done... and when you'll do some damage because I feel like doing damage." Jiyong said excitedly.

Daesung laughed, "Okay, okay."

He hung up and turned on his tv to go to YouTube. He searched for your latest interview and began watching. He sat on his couch and leaned back as he listened to what you have to say.

And what you said bewildered him to his core. He could only focus on your words.

"I was blindsided when we broke up. I mean, it happened privately, but I wasn't expecting him to leave at all."

"I just think he didn't love me anymore."

"He would brush me off every time I cried."

"He just never cared about me."

"I'm not saying I don't recommend him to be anyone's boyfriend, but he wasn't the right boyfriend for me."

"He changed for the worst."

Daesung was fuming. He immediately called Jiyong and his hyung answered on the first ring. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jiyong beat him to it.

"Are you as mad as I am?" Jiyong immediately asked, getting his car keys. "Because I watched it again just to get me riled up and all. You know what? Don't talk. I'm coming to pick you up and we'll fight this girl."

Just like that, he hung up. Daesung stared at his phone and shrugged. A few minutes later, Jiyong texts him that he's already outside, waiting for him. Daesung grabbed his coat and keys and left.

Jiyong quickly drove to your apartment and parked. They both got out of the car and went straight to your unit.

Jiyong asked Daesung a bunch of questions.

"What'll you say to her?"

"What will you do when you see her?"

"Is this going to be like a Gabriela Montez and Sharpay Evans moment from High School Musical 2?"

By the time they reached your door, Jiyong was patting Daesung on the back. "You can do this. I'll be right here if you need back up." Jiyong assured him as he watched Daesung ring your doorbell.

Your friend answered the door, "Daesung? You've got some nerve showing up here and you brought a friend too! How dare-"

"What're you doing here?" You asked, as you stood behind your friend, taking a good look at an angry Daesung.

"You know damn well what I'm doing here." Daesung said calmly, but you can sense his deep anger. "May we come in?"

"I'm kind of hosting girls' night. Can we do this some other time?" You said, crossing your arms. "You're intruding."

"Wow." He chuckled humorlessly. "I'm kind of living my own life, but you chose to do an interview to talk shit and tell lies about me and I would like to address it now."

"Can we at least do this in private?" You asked.

Daesung looked at Jiyong who shook his head. They both turned to face you and Daesung argued, "You told lies about me in public. The least you can do is allow me to defend myself in front of you, my hyung, and your friends."

"Fine." You gritted your teeth. "Come in."

Both Daesung and Jiyong walked in your apartment and your friend closed the door behind them. Jiyong made a beeline towards your kitchen island where the champagne was and he got himself a glass. Daesung followed you to the living room where the rest of your friends were and they all stared at both of you. Jiyong was watching from afar, taking small sips of your expensive champagne and he felt the tension thicken.

"Tell me what you've told the interviewer about me. If you've got something to say, at least say it to my face, right?" Daesung said bitterly.

"I-" You sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I don't know why I lied. It just came out and it kept going and-"

"Or maybe, you're just a pathological liar because it seems like you've started to think everything you lied about was true. It's not fair for you to say all those things about me when you and I both know that you left me alone to fight for our relationship." Daesung seethed.

"Y/N, you resented me for everything I did and said. You told me to grow up when I was crying over you; over us. I wasn't mentally stable and you didn't have an ounce of empathy." He continued as he looked at you dead in the eyes.

"But no one's perfect. I didn't lie completely. You were, at one point, not the boyfriend I wanted you to be." You shrugged.

"Yeah? Well, you weren't the girlfriend I needed you to be, but you don't see me going to an interview to talk shit about you. I would've thought we'd be graceful about it, considering the time we spent together. It really was a time I cherished." He retorted.

"Oh, please. I was basically the perfect girlfriend." You rolled your eyes.

Daesung stared at you; really stared at you. He stared at your nonchalant expression and your wandering eyes. He stared at your face; the face he once loved and complimented everyday. Now, just resents it. Did he regret it? No. Loving you was something he could never regret. Choosing you was his best decision and if he were still with you, he'd choose you everyday, but it's over now. Leaving you was the best decision he ever made and he didn't regret it either.

"I showed you every side of me and I just wanted you to choose me like how I chose you." He said softly as he looked at the ground and gave a small chuckle. He looked back at you and sighed, "You know what? I'm sorry. I'll be the first one to apologize for my shortcomings, but don't stand there and think you have nothing to apologize for. Don't stand there and think you never thought of me as a burden or as someone less than. You want me to grow up? Well, here I am." He gestured to himself.

The whole apartment was silent. Your friends looked at both of you back and forth. Jiyong had a proud smile on his face while raising a glass to Daesung, even though Daesung wasn't looking.

"Have a good life, Y/N. Truly. I hope the next time you give an interview, please leave me out of it because I respect you enough to leave you alone. At least give me the same respect back." Daesung said before turning to leave.

He gave a quick nod to your friends and he motioned for Jiyong to leave too. Jiyong nodded and down the champagne left in his glass and left with Daesung.

"Are you okay? How did you feel? I was so proud of you back there!" Jiyong said all at once, making Daesung chuckle.

"I'm okay now; I'm more than okay, actually. I needed to let that shit out." Daesung smiled.

a/n: apologies for the delay!

permanent taglist: @redhoodedtoad @billiesiousji @hayd3n8 @sherrayyyyy @nbjch05 @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @emmiesoverthemoon @breakmeoff @sayugarper @gdinthehouseee

daesung taglist: @tabibabib

eternal sunshine taglist: @sylviavf @amyyforshort @patheticgirl127 @multifanxtvshows @whotfiscamellia @sherxoo @sevendaysummer @steponupbabe @galgal-egg

#reblogged #rec #kang daesung x rec #YES READER IN THE WRONG IM EATING THIS UP #oh hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah

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ttturnitup · 2 days ago

Text

𝖢𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖬𝗒 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 (𝖯𝗍. 9)

Choi Seunghyun x fem!reader x Kwon Jiyong | CMH Masterlist

a/n: here it is and it sucks. stop rushing me.

warnings: mention of abortion, hospital/medical stuff, angst

wc: 3.9k+

You woke to the sound of the sharp vibration of your phone rattling on the nightstand like a siren in the silence. Another buzz followed. Then another. The piercing ring of Seunghyun’s phone joined in, creating a chaotic chorus that immediately set your heart racing.

You sat up at the same time, both of you jerking upright in the darkness, disoriented and blinking against the sudden panic. The soft moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a silver haze over the room, but it did little to calm the storm inside your chest.

With trembling fingers, you reached for your phone, your vision still adjusting as your thumb swiped at the screen. A flood of missed calls. Group chats exploding. Name after name—Youngbae, Daesung, even staff. But one message stood out, over and over, haunting your screen like a ghost.

Jiyong flatlined. He’s back in surgery. We don’t know if he’s going to make it.

Your breath caught in your throat. The words didn’t feel real. They didn’t register. You blinked again. As if somehow they’d change, as if the message would rewrite itself into something less cruel.

Beside you, Seunghyun let out a strangled gasp, his own screen illuminating the sheer terror washing over his face. “No... no, no, no—Y/n, he’s—he’s gonna fucking die! He’s fucking dead!”

His voice cracked violently, each word edged in panic, raw and ragged like a fresh wound. He shoved the blankets off and stood abruptly, pacing around the room. His hands clawed through his hair as if he could rip the fear out of his head. “I should’ve been there—we should’ve—what if this is it?! What if we never—”

“No!” Your voice tore through the room, loud and desperate. You flung the blankets aside and stood, tears already blurring your vision. “He’s not dead! He’s not—” Your voice faltered, chest tightening. “He’s not...”

But your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

And you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

Seunghyun collapsed back onto the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands, his shoulders trembling violently. You knelt beside him, grabbing his wrists and pulling them away just enough to see the heartbreak in his eyes.

“I can’t lose him…” he whispered, barely audible. “Not like this. Not without saying goodbye. Not when…” He trailed off.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding on for dear life as sobs shook both of your bodies. The air felt thinner now, the weight of fear and uncertainty pressing into your lungs.

“Let’s go.” Your voice was sharp, no room for argument, as you grabbed your bag and snatched Seunghyun’s car keys from the counter.

Seunghyun blinked, caught off guard. “W–What?”

You didn’t turn around. “Get dressed. We’re going to the hospital.”

He froze for half a second before the panic set in. Without another word, he rushed to his closet, fumbling with the first pair of sweats he could find, tugging on an old t-shirt with trembling hands. His face had gone pale, and you could see the terror setting in behind his eyes.

You didn’t wait. The second he was dressed, the two of you bolted out the door. You didn’t even glance at the elevator—you both flew down the stairwell, heartbeats thudding like war drums in your ears with each floor you passed. The penthouse might’ve been on the top level, but right now, nothing could’ve moved faster than your will to get to Jiyong.

The parking garage felt too quiet when you finally reached it. You slid into the driver’s seat of Seunghyun’s car without a word, yanking the door shut as he scrambled in beside you, hands shaking uncontrollably.

The second the engine roared to life, you peeled out of the garage, tires squealing against the concrete. Seunghyun sat hunched in the passenger seat, gripping his knees, his chest heaving with ragged sobs. You kept your eyes on the road, clutching the steering wheel like it was the only thing holding you together, biting back your own tears that threatened to spill.

Your throat burned. Your hands ached from how tightly you were holding on. But all you could think about was Jiyong. Please let him be okay.

When the hospital finally came into view, you barely slowed down. You pulled into the emergency lot at a crooked angle and flung the door open while the car was still rolling. Both of you were already running before the engine cut off completely.

The sterile brightness of the ER hit you like a train. Beeping monitors. The distant echo of intercoms. The smell of antiseptic and dread. And then—Daesung. Seungri. Standing in the waiting area like statues carved from grief.

“Where is he?!” Seunghyun shouted, his voice cracking from a place deep inside.

Daesung caught him just in time, holding him back with both arms. “He’s in surgery again! They had to take him back in—Youngbae’s with him. We just have to wait!” He said as Seunghyun broke down in his arms.

But your legs were already moving.

You pushed past them, heart racing, lungs burning.

“Y/n!” Seungri stepped forward, catching you around the waist, his grip firm. “You can’t go in there!”

Your vision blurred with tears and rage. Without thinking, you drove your elbow into his stomach, just hard enough to make him stumble. His grip loosened and you broke free.

“Y/n, stop!”

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Because no matter how long it took you to admit it—he might’ve been the love of your life.

And if he didn’t make it through that surgery, you didn’t know how you were supposed to keep breathing.

You sobbed into Youngbae’s shoulder, your fingers clutching the fabric of his jacket like a lifeline as the two of you sat outside the operating room. Two hours. Two fucking hours. And with every second that ticked by, it felt like Jiyong was slipping further and further from you—like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, watching the person you love fall and being utterly powerless to stop it.

“What if—” your voice cracked as another sob ripped through your chest. “What if I never get to tell him I love him too…”

Youngbae didn’t speak right away. His hand rubbed soft, unsure circles along your back. You could feel the hesitancy in his touch—this was the first time he was learning the full extent of the mess between you, Jiyong, and Seunghyun. But he didn’t ask. Didn’t pry. Not now. Not when the love of both your lives was fighting to stay alive a few feet away.

“He’s going to be okay,” Youngbae whispered, voice steady but gentle. “We just have to pray…”

Under normal circumstances, you would’ve scoffed at that. Rolled your eyes. Religion had never been your thing—you never believed in some divine plan or higher power. But now? Now you’d kneel on crushed glass if it meant getting one more chance to see Jiyong open his eyes. To hear him call you Jagiya with that crooked little grin that made your heart flutter. To tell him. To fix everything.

So you let Youngbae lead you down the hall, through the too-quiet corridors, and into the hospital chapel. You sat beside him in a pew that smelled of old wood and lemon cleaner, eyes glassy as he began to pray. You didn’t speak his words. You couldn’t. Instead, you silently begged. Please let him wake up. Please let him live. Please give me a second chance to love him the right way. Even if I don’t know what that looks like yet. Even if it’s messy. Just let me try.

—

Three more agonizing hours passed before a doctor finally emerged. You shot to your feet so fast the world tilted.

“He’s stable,” the doctor said. “We expect him to pull through.”

The relief was instantaneous—and yet not. You wanted to collapse with it, to scream, to laugh, to cry all at once. But instead you just nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks as the doctor continued.

“We can only allow one person at a time.”

You turned to Youngbae, your lip trembling, eyes silently pleading. He smiled softly and nodded. “Go,” he said. “He needs you.”

You hugged him tightly before following the doctor through the double doors, your hands shaking as you entered Jiyong’s room.

And then you saw him.

Your knees nearly buckled.

He looked so broken. His face was swollen, bruised beyond recognition. Tubes ran from his mouth and nose. Machines beeped and clicked like a grotesque lullaby. The sound of the heart monitor was steady, but even that didn’t calm you. He looked so small in that bed. So fragile.

“Fuck, Ji…” you whispered, voice cracking. You stumbled toward the chair beside his bed and collapsed into it, your hand reaching out for the only part of him that seemed untouched—his hand.

His skin was cold.

You flinched. A fresh wave of panic gripped your chest.

You stroked your thumb gently over his knuckles, tears dripping onto the hospital sheets. “I’m so sorry,” you choked out. “I should’ve told you. I should’ve been there. I—I was scared and stupid and now you’re here and I don’t know how to fix this. But I swear to god, if you just wake up, I’ll never waste another second.”

—

Day three.

Three fucking days.

You were curled up in the same uncomfortable chair that had practically molded to your body at this point, the sharp ache in your neck a reminder that you hadn’t left his side. He still hadn’t woken up.

Daesung and Youngbae had visited earlier, quietly taking shifts and encouraging you to shower, eat, breathe—but you refused. You wouldn’t leave. Not until he opened his eyes.

“Y/n, come on,” Daesung had urged. “Just go get cleaned up.”

“I don’t want to,” you mumbled, burrowing further into the chair like a petulant child.

But then Seunghyun walked in.

You didn’t even notice him until he was right beside you, grabbing your arm gently. “Y/n, get up.”

You jerked away, venom in your voice. “Fuck off, Seunghyun!”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he pulled you to your feet with unexpected strength and led you into the hallway before you could protest again.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” you screamed, shoving him hard.

He didn’t yell back. Didn’t flinch. Just looked at you, tired and haunted.

“Let’s go have a cigarette,” he said softly, voice low, steady.

You stared at him, chest heaving. And for some reason, in that moment, something told you to follow him.

So you did.

The door creaked shut behind you as you stepped out onto the top floor of the parking garage, the night air biting and cold despite the heat that clung to your skin from hours of crying. The city glowed dimly below, but up here, it felt like another world—quiet, detached, like time had paused just for the two of you.

Seunghyun didn’t say anything as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. His hands were steady, but his eyes weren’t. He held the pack out wordlessly. You took one.

He lit yours for you, the flame briefly illuminating the hollows beneath your eyes, then lit his own. You both took a drag, and the familiar burn of nicotine settled into your lungs, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

Silence hung between you, thick and heavy, coiling around all the words neither of you wanted to say. You both leaned against the concrete railing, exhaling into the void.

Then, Seunghyun broke the silence.

“Do you love him?”

His voice was calm. Too calm. Like he already knew the answer. Like he just needed to hear you say it out loud to make it real.

“Yes,” you whispered, your breath fogging slightly in the cold. “I do.”

He inhaled sharply, not from the cigarette. From the ache in his chest. He nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the skyline. Another drag, another pause.

“Do you love me?” he asked, softer this time. Like it hurt to even ask.

You turned to look at him. Really look at him. His profile was worn—eyes red, jaw clenched like he was holding everything in.

“Yes,” you said. And your voice cracked this time.

Because that was the truth too.

You loved them both.

And it was breaking you apart.

“So what happens when Jiyong wakes up?” Seunghyun asked, his voice low but sharp, like he was holding back something dangerous.

Your eyes stayed glued to the horizon, refusing to meet his. “I-I don’t know, Seunghyun…” you murmured. “When he wakes up, he’s gonna need rest, and space and—”

He cut you off with a bitter laugh, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with too much force. “Well then I guess we should at least figure our shit out now, huh?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, steeling yourself. “Okay, Seunghyun. Let’s talk.”

He didn’t ease into it. He started pacing, his movements stiff and erratic like his body was barely holding his fury in check.

“So first of all,” he began, voice rising, “you were fucking my best friend.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he barely gave you the chance.

“It was before—” you started.

“Yeah, before we were dating. I know that,” he snapped. “But that doesn’t change what it was. You were still fucking him, Y/n. And then you started dating me. So what the fuck was I supposed to be?!”

You flinched at the venom in his words.

“I liked you,” you said flatly, but the words sounded pathetic even to your own ears.

“Oh, you liked me?” he repeated mockingly, shaking his head with a humorless laugh. “Tell me something, how many times did you think about him when we fucked?”

Your face twisted, your stomach turning at the question, but you said nothing.

The silence spoke for you. And it gutted him.

He took a shaky breath, his voice dropping to something more broken. “And then I find out I held you while you cried over aborting his baby?”

“Don’t—” Your voice cracked. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Well too fucking bad!” he roared, stepping toward you like he might break apart if he didn’t move. “You don’t get to not talk about it, Y/n! You lied! You let me sit there, hold you, love you through it—and you never even told me the fucking truth!”

Tears burned your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet. “I needed you,” you choked out. “I needed someone, and Jiyong—Jiyong was a fucking prick to me, Seunghyun. He was cruel. He treated me like I was disposable. That’s why I got rid of it. I knew he wouldn’t care. He didn’t care.”

Seunghyun’s mouth opened slightly, his breath hitching like the weight of your words had finally punctured through all his anger. His eyes welled up, and for the first time, he didn’t look mad—he looked destroyed. You just needed someone. Not him, but someone.

“I think you should go,” he whispered, voice almost trembling.

“No,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

He blinked. His expression twisted, like your refusal was something he physically couldn’t comprehend. “What?”

“I said no,” you repeated. “I love him too, Seunghyun. And I’m not going anywhere.”

The pain in his face morphed into something colder, crueler—a shield.

He scoffed, shaking his head with a sharp exhale. “Then at least take a fucking shower. You reek of guilt.”

And before you could even process the jab, he turned and walked off—his footsteps echoing in the hollow space behind him.

The moment he disappeared, everything crumbled. You collapsed where you stood, sobs finally breaking free, echoing across the rooftop like a siren’s wail—loud, raw, and full of everything you never got to say.

You had showered. Changed into clean clothes. Even managed to eat a few bites of something bland and forgettable. But none of it touched the hollow ache inside you.

The others had gone down to the cafeteria for some space, some air. Probably to avoid sitting in the same room as Seunghyun while the silence between you all grew more unbearable by the second. The secret was out now. Everyone knew.

And you weren’t sure what stung more—your shame, or the way no one could look at you for too long.

You didn’t know what you were anymore. To any of them. To the group. To your job. To Seunghyun. Not that either of you had said the words it’s over, but you could feel it. In every glance he didn’t give you. In every inch he kept between your bodies. You had lost him.

Still… right now, none of it mattered. You were here for one reason only.

Your fingers were laced with Jiyong’s as you rested your head on the edge of the hospital bed, your eyes fixed on the slow, steady rise of his chest. He looked so fragile beneath the white sheets and wires. Like porcelain that had already cracked once too many times.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking beneath the weight of the confession. “For all of it.”

You weren’t even sure he could hear you. But it didn’t stop you from saying it. Again and again.

And then… you felt it.

A slight twitch—barely anything—but his fingers brushed against yours.

Your head shot up, heart in your throat.

“Ji?” you breathed, eyes scanning his face. His eyelids fluttered faintly, and your body went still. “Ji, are you—are you awake?”

It took a few moments, but his lashes finally lifted, his gaze unfocused as he tried to adjust to the room, the light, the machines, you.

His eyes found yours—groggy, glassy, but aware.

You wanted to throw your arms around him. To cry into his chest. To beg him to forgive you. But you didn’t. You didn’t know if you were still allowed.

“Are you thirsty?” you asked instead, voice too small. “Do you need water?”

He let out a low, gravelly groan and nodded faintly. You rushed to grab the plastic water bottle the hospital had provided, fumbling with the straw before pressing it gently to his lips.

“Take it slow, okay?” you murmured.

He sipped. Your heart thundered in your ears as you watched the most mundane act feel like a fucking miracle. He was alive. He was finally awake.

When he pulled away, you set the bottle aside and stared at him, lips parted, unsure if you should speak or stay silent. You just… needed to hear his voice. Anything.

Finally, he rasped, “You’re here.”

You nodded, offering a half-hearted smile. “Yeah. I’m here…”

He blinked slowly, swallowing hard. “What happened?”

Your chest tightened like a vice. “You were in a car accident,” you said carefully. “It was bad, Ji. I-I didn’t know if you were going to wake up…”

He was quiet for a long moment, his gaze distant.

“Wish I didn’t,” he mumbled.

Your stomach dropped. “Don’t say that,” you said quickly, your voice cracking. “Please don’t.”

But he didn’t respond to your plea. His eyes moved, searching the room.

“Where’s Seunghyun?”

That one question shattered you.

He remembered. He remembered everything. And you knew it from that one simple question.

The world tilted slightly, your breath catching in your throat. You’d waited days for him to wake up—prayed for it—but now that he was conscious, all you felt was the weight of loss pressing in on you.

“I’ll… I’ll go get him,” you whispered, blinking fast to hold back tears. “But first I should get the nurse.”

“I don’t nee—”

“Shut up, Jiyong.” Your voice was sharper than you meant, brittle with heartbreak. You couldn’t bear to hear another word. Not now.

You left the room in a blur, moving down the hallway with a hollow thud in your chest. You flagged the nearest nurse and told her he was awake, giving only the essentials before heading to the waiting room.

The boys stood the moment they saw you.

“He’s awake,” you said, barely above a whisper.

A collective sigh of relief washed over them—smiles, quiet laughter, even a few tears.

But you didn’t share in their joy. Not really.

You stepped toward Seunghyun, your eyes meeting his. His expression was unreadable—guarded, cold.

“He wants you,” you said, your voice bitter and quiet, almost like a final goodbye.

You held his gaze for a second too long—long enough for your chest to ache with everything you weren’t saying—then turned without another word and walked straight out of the building, into the open air, where your tears finally fell freely.

Daesung, Youngbae, and Seungri had spent the last twenty minutes gathered around Jiyong’s bed, their relief palpable in every tearful laugh and affectionate jab. They clung to him like gravity, trading stories and cracking stupid jokes, their voices light with joy, even as their eyes stayed glassy with unshed tears. Seeing him awake—alive—had soothed something deep in each of them. Their leader. Their brother. Still breathing.

Meanwhile, Seunghyun stood outside.

A cigarette burned between his fingers, the bitter smoke curling around his face as he leaned heavily against the cold wall of the hospital. He hadn't gone in. Not yet.

He didn’t feel ready.

The emotions inside him were a war zone—guilt, anger, love, betrayal, heartbreak—all colliding so violently he felt like a damn grenade about to go off.

He wanted to hold Jiyong, bury his face in his shoulder, and tell him how scared he was. How fucking lost he’d felt without him. But he also wanted to grab him by the collar, slam him against the wall and scream: Why didn’t you fucking tell me?

Why did you lie?

Why did you both lie?

The hospital doors slid open behind him, breaking through the thick fog of his thoughts.

Youngbae stepped out first, followed closely by Daesung and Seungri. The quiet understanding on their faces said enough—they knew what this moment meant.

“He wants to see you, hyung,” Youngbae said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

Seunghyun nodded once, wordlessly, dropping the cigarette and grinding it out beneath his boot. Then, without another look at the others, he turned and headed back into the hospital.

Each step toward Jiyong’s room felt heavier than the last.

When he reached the door, his hand hovered near the handle, hesitating for just a second. His heart was thudding, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

He knocked lightly, barely more than a tap, then slowly pushed the door open.

There he was.

His best fucking friend. Or so he thought.

Bruised and broken, his skin pale against the hospital sheets, IV lines tangled beside his arm. And in his hand?—a damn juice box.

Like nothing had changed.

Like the world hadn’t fucking shattered.

Jiyong looked up as the door clicked shut behind Seunghyun. His lips curved into a tired smile, eyes softer than they had any right to be.

“Hey, hyung.”

That was all it took.

Seunghyun’s breath caught in his throat, the sound of that familiar voice nearly unraveling him on the spot.

“Hey…” he rasped back, his voice low and tight.

He didn’t move right away.

Didn’t know whether he wanted to hug him—or hit him.

Maybe both.

Tags: @infinetlyforgotten @ldydeath @c1delight @divinefeminineeeee @nicklet94 @fleabagspurplewife @rafesbunniebby @dear-satan @princessadedulce @aerangi @Bcfcpsh @fairyprincesslvr21 @rositapinchesfresita @steponupbabe @w31rd3rg1rl @gdinthehouseee @petersasteria @emmiesoverthemoon @pinkpunkdynamite @modzmadness @breakmeoff @Sofws @burlesquerade @eru-vande @Amyyforshort @korevictrix @gdgirl21 @aizshallnotbefound @ttturnitup @Keiraryan @mashtatosworld @Kai-277 @Loonybubny1 @sherrayyyyy @sharnnnnnn @juliskopf @97claudia97 @shad0wcast @lilysdoll @scream-queen-25 @rubyylovestoread @wickedbutlovely @sherxoo @cannotdriveinastraightline @crashmunson @whotfiscamellia @heartubeatusalon @slut4namgyu @ricecake9999 @makeitworse

#reblogged #rec #kwon jiyong x rec #choi seunghyun x rec #HOLY FUCK #another amazing chapter #i have some deep feelings about this series #vali youre amazing <3

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ttturnitup · 2 days ago

Note

vali!!! congrats on 1.5k, it’s so deserved. you already know you’re one of my fave people and i’m so glad everyone else knows you’re amazing too.

✍️ for seunghyun with this from the sms prompts: [ 📲 sms: ] you’re single. i'm single. i feel like this is a problem we can solve together.

okay bye queen ilysm 💕

I love you so very much, sissy!!! Thank you for always being amazing and supporting me :') <3

Sorry in advance that this kinda sucks 😭 but it did end up kind of long ;P

Vali's 1500 Celebration

warnings: smut (fingering), edging kinda?

wc: 1.2k+

You sat hunched in the studio chair, fingers aimlessly twisting knobs on the soundboard while Seunghyun hummed into the mic, ad-libbing melodies that probably wouldn’t even make the final cut. His voice echoed through the monitors, smooth and unbothered. Meanwhile, your patience was thinning.

You glanced at the clock, lips pressing into a line. You were supposed to be out by now—getting drinks, maybe laughing, maybe kissing someone who seemed decent enough on paper. But instead, here you were, babysitting the booth and trying not to let your irritation show.

Your phone buzzed beside you. You snatched it up, heart tugging toward hope even though your gut already knew.

Sorry, can’t make it tonight.

Of course not. Third time's the charm, right? You stared at the message for a beat, then replied with a dry thumbs-up before hitting block. Your stomach sank. Not because you liked him all that much, but because you were tired—tired of hoping, tired of trying, tired of being a second thought.

Your mood dipped hard, and it must've shifted your whole vibe, because a second later, Seunghyun stopped mid-note. His voice cut out, and you looked up to see him pulling the headphones off, brow furrowed as he pushed open the booth door.

He studied you with those dark, observant eyes. “Alright, what’s going on?”

You shook your head, leaning back in the chair. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you’ve got that face.”

“What face?”

“The one that says, ‘I’m two seconds from committing a felony.’”

You let out a dry laugh. “My date bailed. Again.”

Seunghyun tilted his head, watching you. “He’s a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t planning to marry the guy. I just needed to fu—” You stopped yourself, cheeks burning as your mouth snapped shut.

His lips curved into a slow, amused smirk. “You just needed to what, exactly?”

You rolled your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. “Nothing. Forget it. Let’s finish the track.”

He stepped closer, voice lowering with a teasing lilt. “No no… I’d much rather you finish your sentence.”

Your eyes met his, tension humming like static between you. You swallowed thickly, heart pounding with a rhythm far more dangerous than any track you were trying to produce.

“I just…” you paused, eyes flicking downward as heat rushed to your cheeks, “It’s been a while. Okay?”

A soft blush bloomed across your skin, and you hated how easy it was for Seunghyun to notice.

His grin widened, something mischievous dancing behind his eyes. “Hey,” he said gently, “I get it. I know the feeling.”

You gave a weak, embarrassed smile, unsure how to steer the conversation anywhere but here. Your fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of your hoodie, heart thudding way too loudly for how casual you were trying to appear.

And then, just as you were about to awkwardly change the subject, he said it.

“Want me to help you out?”

You blinked. “W-What?”

He leaned in a little, voice low and smooth. His gaze locked with yours and held it. “I said… do you want me to help you out?”

You stared at him, lips parted, trying to wrap your head around what he was actually offering. “Why would you—what do you mean—are you serious?” you stammered, each word more breathless than the last.

Seunghyun’s smirk deepened. “You’re single. I’m single. Seems like a problem we could solve together.” He paused, giving you an out. “But only if you want to.”

You opened your mouth to say something reasonable—rational—but instead, your traitorous heart answered first.

“I do!” you blurted, eyes going wide the second the words left your mouth. “I mean… I want to…I just—shit.”

Seunghyun chuckled under his breath, stepping in close enough that you could smell the faint trace of his cologne. He tilted his head, eyes flicking to your lips before meeting your gaze again.

“You look really fucking cute when you’re nervous,” he murmured.

“Oh my God, shut up,” you said, swatting his chest half-heartedly with a smile. “I’m not nervous.”

He caught your hand easily, holding it gently between his fingers before tugging you just a little closer. His breath was warm against your lips, his voice barely a whisper now.

“No?” he teased. “Then why’s your heart beating so fast?”

You couldn’t speak—your breath hitched, your mind blank, overtaken by the magnetic pull of him. Your gaze dropped to his lips, heavy with longing, suddenly desperate to know what he tasted like.

And as if he could hear the thought echoing through your skull, Seunghyun leaned in and captured your mouth in a kiss that was anything but tentative—hot, hungry, and laced with weeks of unspoken tension.

You let out a soft moan into his mouth, arms winding around his neck as he guided you backward, his hands firm on your waist. You gasped softly as he lifted you onto the edge of the desk, stepping between your legs like he belonged there—like he knew just how long you’d wanted this.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against your lips, asking for entry. You opened for him willingly, greedily, fingers already working at the buttons of his shirt, pushing the fabric off his shoulders to reveal the hard lines beneath.

He broke the kiss only long enough to trail his lips down your neck, kissing and nipping at your throat, your collarbone, making your skin burn with desire. His hands slipped to the waistband of your pants, fingertips teasing the hem.

He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through your skin. “Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he muttered, sliding his hand into your pants, fingers brushing the soaked fabric of your panties.

You tugged him closer, your body already trembling. “Been a while,” you whispered, smirking against his lips.

He chuckled, dark and amused, his fingers grazing your entrance before sliding up to your clit, gathering your slick. “It’s so fucking hard to focus when you walk around looking like that every day.”

You gasped as he pushed a finger inside you, your hips twitching forward. His pace was slow, deliberate, drawing out every ounce of anticipation.

“Fuck…” you breathed, head falling forward against his shoulder.

“That feel good, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you whimpered, barely able to nod.

He stilled his hand. “Use your words.”

“Please… need more,” you begged, your voice needy and trembling.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, adding a second finger and curling them as he pumped deeper, faster. The pleasure came in waves, crashing through you, your moans muffled by his mouth as he kissed you again.

“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he whispered, watching the way your body writhed under his touch. “Cum for me, baby. And don’t worry…” His lips brushed your ear. “It won’t be the only time tonight.”

You were so close, the coil tightening in your belly, your nails digging into his shoulders—

*SLAM*

The sound of a door slamming echoed down the hallway.

You both froze.

“What the fuck was that?” you gasped, breathless, heart racing for a very different reason now.

Seunghyun’s eyes narrowed, head tilting toward the studio door. “No one else is supposed to be here…”

You could hear them now—faint voices, footsteps approaching. Panic flared in your chest.

Seunghyun looked back at you, fingers still buried deep inside, his voice low and urgent. “What do you say we take this back to my place?”

You were panting, trembling, desperate.

“Please,” you whispered.

He grinned, kissing your forehead as he carefully withdrew his fingers, brushing one last teasing stroke against your thigh.

“Then let’s get the hell out of here before someone sees how wrecked you already are.”

#reblogged #rec #choi seunghyun x rec #nsfw #vali simply never misses #i really loved the interaction in this one

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